#and boy am i judging yall hard

[nartml]

"I don't like wolfstar—"

"Sasusaku are my otp—"

"THW was the perfect ending—"

"Hisoka is so hot—"

"TPW was exploitative and incredibly harmful—"

"Coho is such a great writer—"

"Taylor Swift could write Shakespeare but Shakespeare couldn't write folklore—"

"Opinions can't be wrong—"

"[insert every other horrendous take I've ever heard]"

Shhhh shh shhhh, nobody asked for your irrelevant thoughts go away

[othercrossee]

Need the kind of idgaf attitude kpop idols have after doing something problematic 🥶🥶🥶

[dearmura]

heyyy can i request a riki fic where yall argue and u ignore him but he tries realll hard to make it up to u?? tysmmmm

all that matters

☆ cw. she/her pronouns used to refer to reader

☆ pairings. idol! riki × fem! reader

☆ genre. established relationship, fluff, a little angst (they make up in the end dw), misunderstandings

☆ synopsis. when you refuse to talk to riki after a disagreement, he can't stand it, doing everything in his power to make it up to you

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

you have the reached the voicemail of nishimura riki, please leave a message after the tone *beeeeep*

rolling your eyes, you lock your phone, throwing it across your bed with a humph, curling yourself into a ball as you sulk under your blanket. as per usual, it was late at night, way to late to stay out, and riki was still not home from practice. a few texts sent to the other members suggests that practice ended hours ago, yet, riki stayed much later, like always

you appreciated his hard work, you really did. but was it so wrong to miss one's boyfriend? to want to spend time with him? it sure seemed like it to you, considering his empty promises everyday of coming home early, which he never seemed to fulfill

just as you were about to sulk further, you heard keys just outside your door, jolting you from your thoughts. though you were mad, in the end, you still missed him and couldn't resist greeting him, albeit, ready to scold him

slowly creaking the door open, riki assumed you were asleep by now considering how late it was but was instantly proven wrong when he was greeted to a fuming y/n tapping her foot, arms crossed

he knew he was screwed

"hey, angel~ why are you up so late? you didn't have to wait for me you kn-"

"don't 'angel' me, nishimura. I should be asking you that same question, now shouldn't I?" you interrupt, not giving him the chance to sweet talk his way out of this one

"y/n..." he continued, your name feeling weird as it rolls off his tongue, not being used to calling you anything other then a term of endearment

"I'm sorry, I really really am, but I have a comeback just around the corner and that's my priority right now" he tries. though, judging by your reaction, he assumes his words weren't the best articulated. you scoff

"more important than me? you didn't even bother to answer my calls. and don't even try to say you were busy, nishimura. I know practice ended hours ago" you knew you were being a little immature, but you couldn't think straight, fed up with ignorance

"baby I-" "just leave me alone. it's not like you care enough to prioritize me anyway" you spit bitterly

he tried to approach you but you just pulled away, needing a moment to yourself. in the heat of the moment, you walked away, leaving the boy dumbfounded as he watched your figure slowly reach rather and rather away from him. as you reached your room, you slammed the door, sliding down the wooden frame as tears brimmed in your eyes. you knew you were being dramatic but your mind was too clouded by emotions to even care

finally snapping out of his thoughts, riki quickly followed after you, only to be met with the door to his face. the quiet hitches of your breath from beyond the door made his heart break and mind go into overdrive, absolutely hating himself for being the reason you were in that state. as he tries to reason with you, you only pull away further, needing a moment to collect yourself, leaving him feeling what he could only describe as empty

he couldn't be upset with anyone but himself. he knew he was in the wrong for neglecting your feelings and needs in favor his work. he knew you had every reason under the sun be mad at him right now. but he couldn't deny how much he wanted you in his arms right now, showering you with kisses and being lulled to sleep by your little snores. in respect of your wishes, he painfully parts from the door, a tear slipping down his cheek as he lays on the couch. as you sulk to yourself, you don't even realize your boyfriend just in the other room crying himself to sleep, drowning in guilt and self loathing

✧

the next morning, you wake up with a pounding headache, reminding you of your tears the previous night. with a clearer mind, you reminisce of how dramatic you were being and feel a pang of guilt when you see the boy not sleeping beside you. groggily, you shuffle out of bed and into the kitchen to search for the boy, but he is no where to be seen. the thought of him heading to practice this early saddened you just as it did before

with a heavy sigh, you opened the fridge door, searching for something to eat when the front door opened. at this point, you were fed up with his audacity. the fact that he knew you were upset and didn't even try to reason with you, only continuing to make the same mistake again. not even wanting to bother with him, you storm back into your room before he could reach the kitchen

unbeknownst to you, the boy walked in, a devasting smile on his face as he held a bouquet of flowers in his arms, a DVD of your favorite movie, and your favorite snacks, waking up extra early to head to the store as soon as it opened. as he searched the house, his shoulders dropped when you were no where in sight. knocking at your door, he tries to keep a cheery mood but is slapped in the face when you don't even want to talk to him

at this point, his emotions got the best of him and he couldn't hold back his tears. sliding down the door, he drops down to his knees and sobs, utterly disgusted with himself

just beyond the door, you hear little sniffles and whines. though you were upset, he was still your boyfriend after all. worrily, you open the door and your eyes are met with a slumped riki with tear-stained eyes, disheveled hair, and a tear soaked shirt. looking up, he only sobs more

"I-I'm so *hiccup* sorry, angel. I know I'm a horrible *hiccup* boyfriend. p-please don't break up with *hiccup* me" his voice breaks as he offers you the bouquet of flowers, the DVD and snack bags scattered behind him

seeing his state only brought you to tears. wordlessly, you dropped to your knees with him and embraced him a tight hug. the warmth of his hold you missed oh so much brought you indescribable comfort

"no I'm sorry for pushing you away, my love. and I would never break up with you" you reassure him, feeling his hold tighten around you. face emerging from the crook of your neck, he manages to whisper out

"I'm sorry I was so *sniff* selfish and didn't prioritize y-" "shh shh shh, it's okay baby. I understand. you're with me now, that's all that matters" you massage his scalp, placing little pecks here and there, successfully calming him down

"now let's watch this movie" you reach for the DVD laid behind the boy, giving him a smile

"and I call dibs on the Takis" you state matter of factly, making him giggle, ruffling your hair at your cuteness

"it's all yours, princess"

fin

[thatssonanii]

Flashback #2

A/N: Hey yall! I been missing for quite some time but I just can't seem to finish this upcoming chapter (I've been tryna finish it since I dropped ch. 12) so I'm probably gonna start the chapter over. And some stuff happened that quite frankly made me a lil apprehensive to even continue this fic but ima keep going. In the meantime, I was able to write this flashback for yall. Let me know how yall like it. ⭐⭐LIKE, REBLOG, COMMENT, SHARE⭐⭐

Warnings: Cursing, arguing, typos, 18+ MINORS DNI

Do not copy my shit & post it anywhere else or take credit for my hard work!

Masterlist

Chapter Twelve

Hassan rubbed his throbbing temple as he listened to his ex-wife go on and on. From the moment Nadine picked him up from the airport, all she had done was rant about Moriah sneaking out with Zilla, wanting to find out how long the two of them had been doing so and exactly what the two of them had been doing together. Knowing that if he said anything, he would lose his temper and that was something he didn’t like to do and rarely did. All he wanted was to get his daughter.

“I hope her little ass enjoyed herself because it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let her go out without me again,” Nadine sassed as she eased into a turn.

Hassan looked around then at her. “Where are you going?”

“Home, Hassan. Did you hear what I said?”

“I heard you, I’ll get to that in a minute.” He answered quickly. “Why are we going to the house?”

Nadine glanced at him from the road, a confused look on her face. “Are you not staying at the house?”

“We need to go get Moriah, Nadine. You know that.”

She scoffed. “It’s damn near midnight, Hassan. They are not gonna let her out right now and even if they would, her ass would still be sitting in there until the morning.”

Leaning his head back against the headrest, Hassan took slow deep breaths trying to calm his nerves. Once he found out that Moriah hadn’t been abducted, he was relieved but it didn’t last long. His ex-wife waited until he informed her that he’d switched his flight for a later one to tell him that she had their daughter sitting at the detention center.

“Nadine,” he called out to her in a soft tone, “If you knew they wouldn’t let her out this late, you should have gone and got her sooner.”

“And what would she have learned? Nothing.”

“Being put in handcuffs, riding in the back of a police car and being booked did enough. Do you know what kind of kids you put her in there with?”

She chuckled. “I sure do. That was the point. She’ll learn that jail isn’t where she wants to be.”

Opening his eyes, Hassan turned to look at her trying to keep his anger at bay. “You know like I know that sneaking out with Zilla is the extent of everything. She hasn’t done anything else.”

“And that is supposed to make it okay? That bad ass boy is rubbing off on her. I need to nip it in the bud right now.”

“What if somebody does something to her in there?” He asked.

She shrugged. “The girl knows how to fight so she better fight back.”

His brows rose in shock. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Wow,” he scoffed, “And what if this does the opposite of what you want? You know she starts actually doing bad things. What then?”

“Hassan, just drop it. She is going to learn her lesson this time and that’ll be it.”

“For your sake, you better hope she isn’t harmed while she’s in there.”

“No, she better hope that the judge goes easy on her and just gives her community service.”

Those words triggered Hassan and got his blood boiling. He couldn’t contain his anger anymore. 

“Nadine, we are not pressing charges! She is our daughter for fucks sake! Just like I told you when we spoke earlier, charges are not an option! Am I being clear here?”

“She’s my child, I have custody of her so if I wanna press charges then that’s exactly what the hell I’m gonna do, Hassan! I am not a little girl, I do not need your permission to discipline our child!” She screamed pulling into the driveway. 

She snatched her seatbelt off after killing the engine then jumped out with her purse and keys trying to get to the door before him. Choosing to get his bag later, Hassan followed closely behind his ex-wife and rushed in behind her, slamming the door closed. 

“She lives with you but I have sole custody of her! Or did you forget? I let her stay because I did not want to uproot her so yeah, you do need my permission!”

Nadine tossed her things aside, going to get in his face. “I don’t need a got damn thing from you, Hassan! I am her mother and I will decide what’s best for her!”

“Don’t piss me off, Nadine. You don’t wanna do that.” He firmly stated in an eerily calm voice. 

Taking a chance, Nadine leaned up on her toes to kiss him, catching him off guard. He pulled away, taking a step back from her giving her an incredulous look.

“Don’t.” 

That was all he said before going back outside to retrieve his belongings. 

The next morning, Hassan and Nadine went to pick their daughter up. He insisted on driving, not wanting her to make unnecessary stops or the long route. Their drive was silent aside from Nadine trying to make small talk.

While they waited for Moriah to be brought out to them, the officer from the prior day approached them.

“Good morning. Am I to assume that I can close this out?” He asked looking more to Hassan than Nadine.

“Yeah. Get rid of it. We not doin that.” Hassan informed him.

Nadine sucked her teeth. “How long can we think on it?” She ignored Hassan staring at the side of her face, keeping her eyes on the uncomfortable officer. “Well?”

“24 hours but ma’am, I don’t think that’s a good idea. She seems like a good kid and she had a really rough day and night yesterday. I think she gets the point.” He explained. He hoped she listened or Hassan would make her listen. 

“Rough, you say? What happened?” She pushed with a small smirk.

Before he could elaborate, another officer came from the back with Moriah. She looked worn out, her hair was a mess and there were tear stains on her face. Seeing her made the smirk on Nadine’s face grow

“Daddy,” Moriah sobbed softly. She walked into his arms, breaking into a full blown sob as soon as her head hit his chest. 

Fire rose in his chest feeling his daughter’s sobs shake her body as well as his own. This was something that he wasn’t going to let go as easily as he knew Nadine was hoping. The officer took Hassan’s answer as the final answer and handed Nadine some paperwork before bidding them a good day. 

“Are you hurt? Are you okay? Did they bother you?”

Upon getting back to the house, Hassan carried his daughter to her room and sat on the side of the bed talking to her. She moved around her room to get a change of clothes so that she could shower.

“My side and back hurts,” she answered softly, trying not to cry. “They wouldn’t leave me alone. They took my pillow and my blanket too.”

“I’m so sorry, Rye. What happened to your side and back?”

“They had these bunks in there for us and they put me on the second. The girl under me,” she paused to wipe her tears, “She wanted to be on that bunk and told me to move. I told her no because I didn’t wanna get in trouble and because Zay said not to let them punk me.”

Hassan chuckled a bit at that. “I’m listening.”

“She kept telling me to move and I kept telling her no then she pushed me off the bunk to the floor.”

His brows furrowed. “What? What did the officers do?”

“Nothing,” she cried, “They just said to stop playing around. One girl in there was nice to me though. They bothered her too.”

Hassan tried to hide his anger from his daughter, not wanting to upset her more. “I’m glad you’re outta there. And don’t worry about nothing, I’m not gonna let your mama press charges. Okay?”

Moriah nodded solemnly.

“Good. You shower and take a nap. When you get up, I’ll take you to see Isayah and get you some food. Sounds good?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re my babygirl. You never have to thank me.”

As soon as he heard the shower running, Hassan went to the master bedroom where Nadine was lying across the bed on the phone and watching television. She rolled her eyes, muting the television.

“Can I help you, Hassan?”

“Hang up the phone.” He demanded calmly.

“For what? I’m talking to my sister.”

Hassan took a deep breath. “Unless you want your sister to hear me chew yo ass out, I suggest you hang it up.”

Nadine’s frown deepened hearing her sister laugh which was the only reason she hung the phone up. She sat up, moving to the side of the bed. “If you think you’re gonna chew me out about the charges then you’re mistaken. Might as well turn back around and leave my room. I don’t give a damn what you say, I’m doing it.”

“So you think I’m gonna let you do that to her? Is that what you think?”

“It's not what I think,” she sassed with a smirk, “It’s what I know. She’s gonna learn her lesson.”

“At what cost, Nadine? They pushed her off the top bunk! They took her shit and would not leave her be! That was only 24 hours in there!”

“Good!” She screamed jumping up. “Good! And I hope they lock her ass up for a whole year so them girls can do worse! Her ass deserves it!”

Hassan’s nostrils flared and his heart sunk at her words. He started to pace back and forth, keeping his eyes on his ex-wife. He took notice of her trembling hands and the way she nervously switched her weight from hip to hip.

“Just cause she cried to you, you think she learned her lesson and she didn’t. She just knows that a few tears will get you to lay off but that don’t work on me!”

“You pushing it, Nadine! You really pushing it!”

Nadine approached him, jabbing her finger into his chest. “Yeah and what are you gonna do about it, huh? What is Hassan gonna do about it? I do what the hell I want and there’s nothing that you can do or say about it!”

He grabbed her hand, roughly pushing her away from him. “If you press charges after I told you not to, I’m gonna take her with me and you’ll never see her again. I’ll make sure of it.”

“You can’t take her!”

Hassan caught her hand just as it came up to slap him. “I can and I will. If I have to move back here or fly her back and forth to see her friends every other weekend then I will if it means she’s away from your ass. Try me.”

“You’re really gonna take her away from me?” She asked with tears in her eyes. “She’s my baby. All I have left since you left me.”

Hassan again roughly let her hand go. “Oh now you care? You only want her for selfish reasons so keep the water works to yourself.”

“The only reason I did any of this is because I care about her well-being and how she turns out, Hassan!” She cried. “I care unlike the rest of you!”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “But you heard what I said, if you do that I’m taking her with me and you know I will.”

While their parents spoke, Zilla and Moriah went to his bedroom to talk. As soon as he closed and locked his door, he went to his best friend wrapping his arms around her tightly, letting her cry on his chest. He never knew what to say in these situations but he knew that giving her physical comfort was the next next thing. They stood in their embrace for a few minutes before she pulled away, he pulled her to sit on his bed with him. 

“You ain’t let them hoes bother you, did you?” He asked, making her smile a little.

“I tried not to. It was hard.” She admitted softly.

He sucked his teeth. “You know what I told you, Fat. What they do?”

Moriah told him the same thing she had told her father earlier. “But I’m okay, Zay.”

Ignoring her words, he lifted the sides of her shirt and the back to check her out. Gingerly, he touched the small bruise on her left side making his hiss and move away from his touch.

“You ain’t okay, that shit hurt, Fat. You ain’t beat they ass?”

“No,” she frowned, “I didn’t wanna get in any more trouble and have to stay even longer.”

He sighed heavily. “I get that but if your mom stay on that bullshit then you goin back in there and they gon remember that you ain’t do shit about them fucking with you.”

“My dad said she’s not gonna.”

“But we both know how she is, Fat.”

She huffed lying back on his bed. “I trust him, you need to trust him too. I’ll be fine.”

He rubbed her thigh trying to comfort her. “Aight, Fat. You gon call your new friend? What was her name?”

“Her name is Dreka. I gave her my number to call me. She’s a runaway too.”

“Too?” He asked, laughing. “You get caught sneakin out one time and now you a runaway. Yeah aight, Fat.”

She pushed at his back laughing. “Shut up. I been locked up, Ima thug now. I’ll shank you.”

“Ooooh, I’m so scared.” He joked.

“Hassan, I really am sorry about this. Don’t worry, if I have to make him sleep in my bed I will make sure they don’t do that again.”

Hassan waved her off taking a drink of his soda. “No, no. You don’t gotta apologize. It was Rye’s choice too. The person that should be apologizing is Nadine.”

“Can’t argue with that,” she chuckled. “‘Please tell me that she’s not thinking of pressing charges still.”

“She’s not and if she does, she knows what’ll happen.”

Leata raised a brow, interested. “And what’s that?”

“I’m gonna take Rye with me and she’ll never see her again.” He answered with a straight face. 

Leata was conflicted. She would be glad to get Moriah away from Nadine but she’d miss the girl and knew her son would. And she wouldn’t want Hassan in any trouble.

“You think she’d let you just take her like that?”

He smiled at her. “She doesn’t have to let me do anything. As far as the courts and the system is concerned, I have sole custody of Moriah. Not joint, not none of that. Sole custody.”

“Wait … what?” She laughed. “How the hell did you pull that off? When were you gonna tell me? And why the hell is she not with you?”

He laughed heartily at her reaction, giving her a shrug. “She wanted certain things in the divorce and I had a counter for each of them. In this case, she wanted to keep living in the house and I got sole custody of Rye. She’s not with me because she didn’t want to leave her friends, school and Zay. She said she could handle four more years with her. So that’s why I didn’t tell anybody. But Nadine knows so she should act accordingly.”

“Wow … gave up custody for a house.” Leata shook her head, thinking. “Albeit a nice house but you said live in, not own.”

“Yup,” he grinned, going to take another sip, “She wanted me to keep paying the bills and figured if I gave it to her outright I wouldn’t pay them.”

“She thought she was playing you but she played herself cause there’s no way you wouldn’t pay the bills if Moriah was still there.”

“Exactly but here we are.”

“I always told her that she was too smart for her own good,’ she chuckled, “So where do we go from here?”

Hassan rubbed through his beard. “I’m gonna talk to Zay, you’re gonna talk to Rye and hopefully get them both on the same page with us about everything so that we can all have some sort of peace. Cause I’m getting too old for this shit with her.”

“I hear that but okay good plan. Also, I wanted to share something with you.”

“What’s up?”

“After we got home yesterday, I talked to Isayah to see how long the two of them had been sneaking out and everything,” she explained in a low tone, “He said it’s been about four or five months. I asked him if they were having sex, he told me no and he didn’t get an attitude or anything when I asked so I believed him. He said they only kissed one time.”

“But?” 

Hassan could sense the other thought lingering in the air.

“I’m not entirely sure how long that’s gonna last. They’re coming around to the fact that they like each other and find each other attractive. If you don’t mind, I was going to have a little talk with Rye because I know Nadine isn’t and if she does it won’t be helpful.”

Hassan nodded thinking about her offer. “Yeah, yeah … that’s fine with me. I’ll slide that into my talk with Zay. You think we’ll make it outta these high school years without a baby?” He joked.

Leata laughed so hard she started to cough. “Hassan, I hate you but honestly we’re probably not getting out of them without a baby or a baby scare and God help us all if there’s an actual baby.”

[notnights]

Is Creep by Radiohead more Jax coded or Gangle coded?

Hey this gives me the opportunity to mention "Creep by Radiohead" was a very shortly lived tumblr meme a few years back, and I genuinely don't think a lot of people knew that judging by the reactions people had to this picture,

and by the fact that because of the reactions I saw to this picture, I went to go find evidence this was once a meme (and possibly what Gooseworx was making a funny about here maybe??) only to find out it was such a niche meme there is no "knowyourmeme" page about it or even people talking about this specific meme outside of tumblr.

And I feel insane because I can't find any proof, but I KNOW it happened, it would be stuff like "person makes playlist for their fav supervillain, and it's just creep by radiohead" and the [supervillain playlist] is replaced with almost anything else and then "but it's just creep by radiohead" or "and it's creep by radio head"

Kind of the same as people who meme on "Dollhouse" by Melanie Martinez because so many teenage girls will describe the song as their family because just like Creep by Radiohead, there's enough relatability to it even if the stories don't line up exactly with one's life. Teenage boy relates to Creep by Radiohead, Joker relates to Creep by Radiohead, real! memed on!

Which, back to the Jax picture, I had originally ASSUMED this was the joke of this piece. That Jax's life from our perspective, at the moment, is nothing like Creep by Radiohead, or is it? Because again, there's that vague enough relatability for any fan to listen to this song and take SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT ABOUT JAX from it. Half of this song is about loving someone else, or about not fitting in, or about not having control, and people dove in, what parts relate to Jax, etc etc.

A meta joke, about oh Jax is finding this song relatable that's funny on it's own, fans seeing this photo and song will start guessing about stuff it means for Jax, even though the reality is, Creep by Radiohead has such a wide reach. Even if it meant anything specifically for Jax, there would be so many guesses as to what that might specifically be, no one would know right. This is on par with other funny tweets Goose has made before in relation to keeping fans guessing: "when you see fanart of something close to canon---it was fast food uniforms" <- her first tweet, NO one was going to guess right, it's vague enough to make people think and go crazy but not confirm anything, the follow up tweet, showing it was never serious at all, relevant but nothing no one needed to think too hard on. It was months until we got the punchline but god that was funny. Saying this song ALSO relates to Gangle shows further the vague wide relatability of it, everyone gets something out of this song one way or another, for themselves, for a character, whatever. More over this is part of my ribbunny playlist long before this image of Jax was posted. And you're probably at this point being like, NIGHTS WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT!!!

AND I'M SHAKING YALL AND SAYING I SWEAR THIS IMAGE OF JAX IS SUPPOSE TO BE BASED OFF A NICHE TUMBLR MEME AND I FEEL LIKE IM INSANE BECAUSE IM THE ONLY ONE WHO REMEMBERS IT!!! OR MAYBE I AM JUST INSANE!!!

[sweetlves]

our tandem hearts…

synopsis. reminiscing a small yet meaningful moment with chuuya

characters/pairings. teenage!chuuya nakahara x teenage!gn reader

genre. fluffy fluff

tw. none

a/n. idk how i didnt notice, but this is literally the same exact concept of my other gojo fic…major clown moment yall 🧍🏻‍♀️

chuuya nakahara.

a name you’re all too familiar with. the boy whose been formally assigned as your partner from the leader of the port mafia himself. sadly a few weeks later the infamous osamu dazai had been partnered up with you two as well.

but this isn’t about dazai, this is about chuuya nakahara. you are very accommodated with empathy, but for some reason, chuuya is a very hard person to read.

of course it’s dumb to judge someone’s character just by observing; is what surprisingly a lot of people say. but little do they know, observation can go a long way. just watching someone; their habits, body language, speech and of course, eyes can reveal a whole lot about them.

spacing out while watching chuuya was an accident at first. but gradually, you realize when it’s just you two enveloped by silence. he is a broken boy deep down inside. that is an obvious point, considering you two are in the port mafia.

but his eyes say different. vacant at first, but noticeably shift into pain and sadness. even though he seems to wear his heart on his sleeve, that doesn’t mean he’s shown it all. that stubborn hot-headed facade as a cover-up, not letting anyone hurt him.

looking up at the setting sky, you have flashbacks to the memories you’ve had with him. seeing that joyful smile of his, hearing a genuine laugh that he himself was probably not aware of. and especially looking into his eyes, show that at the end of the day. this boy is only a kid. a kid being surrounded by death and violence.

looking back at chuuya, he’s still spaced out, gazing at the beautiful sky. you smile to yourself. he senses your stare and turns to you.

“what?” he says raising an eyebrow

“nothing” you reply back with a soft smile

staring for a few seconds, eyes noticeably softening. “…weirdo,” he whispers.

“hey chuuya…”

“yeah?” he turns to look at you once again. you divert your eyes to the sky.

“if you weren’t in the port mafia, what would you do?”

“…what?…that’s a stupid question.”

“cmon, be honest,” you say with a smile in your voice.

“…hm…well…i don’t really know?” he leans back on his arms. “what would you do?”

“i’d wanna go to school.” he stays silent.

“and go shopping…and eat at pretty restaurants with friends!” your eyes sparkling with excitement.

he just stares at you, eyes soft with admiration, eyebrows raised.

“…well that’s…stupid. we’re in the port mafia, that’ll never be possible.”

“yeah i know…it’s a nice thought though.” you lay on your back, knees up, while chuuya sits there with his arms propped up on his as well.

“…do you think we’d be friends if we weren’t in the mafia?”

“what’s with these dumb questions..?”

“just curious~” he lays down side by side with you.

“argh…i don’t know” you turn your head to him.

“seriously…I’m like your only friend! besides dazai”

“no you’re not, you’re my partner,” he grumbles.

“i might as well be, we’re all we’ve got after all.” he stays silent, his eyes slightly looking at you. his mouth open, looking like he’s hesitant to say something.

“…ugh” he closes his eyes while grumbling as always.

“well that doesn’t sound like you like me,” you say with a soft giggle.

“i prefer you over dazai.”

“ah, so i am your last resort!?” you lightly push his hand.

“shut it already…” his eyes still closed.

“alright alright~.” silence takes over and you turn to chuuya.

“…you sleepy?” you whisper softly.

“..mm…yeah a little.” he whispers back groggily.

“hah, me too. today was exhausting…”

“yeah…” he opens his eyes slightly, “…thanks for staying,” he whispers.

silence takes over again. you feel the presence of his hand lying right next to yours. hands brushing just millimeters away. for some reason your touch senses heightened, the space between your hands feeling like a magnets, pulling the both together.

his pinkey brushing against yours. the small touch felt like electricity. you inch your hand closer as well. eventually his fingers interlock with yours perfectly.

everything feels so perfect right now. you could get used to these moments with chuuya.

© sweetlves. all works belong to me, please do not copy, translate, and repost on other social media platforms.

[planet-crait]

I lied again. We’re back on episode 6 because I can finally watch it lolz.

Aww Hazel and Jasmine are having a sleepover. I can’t recall the last time I had a sleepover…. Probably was like middle school.

Regardless of my terrible social life they’re both being silly and adorable and I just love that. Then hanging around like bats is both cute and terrifying all at once. How does Jasmine out the cucumbers right on her eyeballs that would hurt. So much. Oh yeah I was right this is where most likely the new girl whose name I still don’t know yet probably joins the friend group.

This is another painful reminder though of the fact that Chester and AJ…never seemed to care all that much about Timmy. We don’t see them really hang out outside of school and sometimes it felt like they where only friends because they’re all social outcasts rather then actually getting along which is just really sad and definitely doesn’t remind me at all of my own childhood nope not one bit (do you believe me).

It is nice to see Hazel having friends that care about her and are involved in her life. It’s not only nice to see but can add some stakes to putting her at risk of accidentally revealing Cosmo and Wanda. I don’t know if that aspect will come into play but it could.

Wait wait Winn is non binary. I love that oh my gosh. I’m loving this rep we’re seeing in the show just so casually in it. Like no one seems to be misgendering them which is great (fuck did I misgender them my bad yall.) I do think kids should be allowed to explore their gender identity and have some wiggle room to see who they are and I love the show is allowing kids to do that.

Dev trying to one up Hazel’s sleep over is hilarious. Oh wait Jasmine what are you doing girl?? Hazel is your friend! Hazel uh don’t lie, that’s not going to win over friends. Besides I thought you didn’t care about being cool? You need to be honest. Also would people really think a hotel is fancier than a mansion?

Umm what about the other people who live in that complex won’t they…notice? I mean I guess Hazel realized her parents but what about everyone else? The chihuahua’s guarding the literal safe are hilarious but uh if her parents have to leave won’t they notice?

Speaking of notice wasn’t there an episode about Jasmine coming over to Hazels place? Or maybe they went over to Jasmines? I’m not sure. Oh nope she was how is Hazel going to explain this away? But see I mentioned earlier the friends being closer thing could cause some issues? I love the potential stress from Jasmine knowing Hazel is lying and she can’t come clean because she’ll lose Cosmo and Wanda. And potentially Jasmine since their friendship started because of a wish? Maybe? That side of it goes a little more into uncharted territory that’s for sure.

I am no architect but uh I don't think columns would ever have a supporting beam like that. I know its for Winn to stake off of but they could have done something else to make that work.

Also also was this just a conservative Christian parents thing or was it more common before for girls and boy to not be allowed at the same sleepover? Just genuinely curious for such young kids its weird to do that sure but I get the concerns as they get older.

Okay don’t judge me I’m doing research on skateboarding for uh a fic I’m working on and holy shit that kickflip is an insanely hard move to pull off while stationary like shit it’s not realistic but they’re an incredibly good skateboarder. Even Cosmo and Wanda are impressed.

Okay so I’ve worked in hotels I have a degree in hospitality and two employees does not a hotel make. Not even a cheap motel could run with two employees much less a five star hotel. I could go into a whole tangent about how hotels get their five star rating and it’s not reviews like a lot of people think it’s actually about service level and I won’t dive in too deep here but no. Two employees would not even come close to any sort of reasonable staffing levels which if Dev shows up I imagine he’ll know something is off fast. Also uh they went way to overboard on the chandeliers lolz.

Winn seems like a genuinely cool kid like they aren’t put off by Jasmine and Hazels excitement and genuinely is happy to answer questions and share about themselves. A question I don’t think anyone will ask except me, does Winn dye their hair or is it supposed to be naturally purple? I am very invested in this question.

Aww Hazel thanking Cosmo and Wanda is just adorable and I love their fist bump when she walks away. Huh I expected Dev to crash the sleepover but apparently not. Maybe it’s me knowing the depth he’ll be getting later on but I kind of almost feel bad for Dev right now. He’s a jerk currently but he’s also a kid of a rich family he’s got to have problems from that.

WHY IS HAZEL FLYING THE HELICOPTER? Girl what are you doing??!!!?? Cosmo and Wanda this isn’t proper Godparenting!!! And this is why you don’t out chandeliers in helicopters.

Okay I laughed when I saw the sign for uninhabited forest animals too sign. I just. I don’t know why I was about to ask “what about the inevitable damage crashing the helicopter will cause” and the show immediately went “nope it’s fine I know it’s implausible but it’s fine”.

I am starting to wonder how this wish will go “wrong” so to speak. Every episode so far it has and I have a few guesses but I’m not really sure what will be the thing that makes it all go wrong and how it will all resolve.

Aww they’re friends. Ahh the good old days when hanging out for like a couple days f hours made you immediate friends (toobadthosedisntlast) ehem. Oh huh I wonder if this news broadcast will cause the issue?

Ohh huh not any of my suspects most likely. Seems Hazel may let the game get to her head which is how this went for Timmy. I mean sure it makes sense but I did enjoy the show not retreading the exact same ground even if this is a good lesson to remember. I’m not at the end yet just reading the signs of what probably will happen.

Oh huh I may have been wrong again it may be less fame gets to her head and more the stress gets to her. Maybe I should stop trying to predict and just see what happens.

Ohh poor Winn and Jasmine trying to play board games and being blown off with over and over again. Oh I like Cosmo and Wanda calling out Hazel. I mean running a hotel is a lot of work but she’s a kid and she should be hanging out with her friends.

Wait did Cosmo and Wanda send them to SPACE WITH NO GEAR???? Oh they are dead. Vicious. (Whycoulsnttheydothattotimmysparents) ehem wow I have a bad cough today ignore that it’s over text. But see this is why you don’t only have two employees it’s way too much work. I guess it’s technically three people but that’s still not nearly enough people.

I’m glad they forgave Hazel pretty quickly. I am not a fan of when people demand groveling for forgiveness especially since she wasn’t like mean to them directly more got caught up in other things which while not great isn’t like as mean as what happened with Timmy. Though. Wouldn’t everyone notice the apartments changing from a hotel to a messy apartment? With the episode ending I feel like that’s gonna get yadda yadda’d past. Poor Hazels dad. He’s right but no one is listening to him. Why didn’t the emu vanish as well why did Cosmo have to toss it out? I have questions.

Yeah Dev sucks but oof getting chased by an animal is uh terrifying. Overall I think this is my new favorite episode so far. The writing flows better things that happen overall flow well and just works overall. I was way off base on how things would go wrong with this wish but that’s okay sometimes, they didn’t mislead or anything I was just wildly guessing lolz.

Onto episode uh 8? Oh jeez jumping out of order is getting so confusing lolz. Hopefully this is the last time I have to do that.

[hydrate-or-diedrate]

DAY 4 OF READING HOMESTUCK WE STARTING ACT 3 BABEYYY

According to the thing I'm looking at this act is about 400 pages so we'll see if I finish it in one day or not

Oh hello! Jade is a new name :0 that's someone I haven't even heard of from general fandom nonsense! So this is the little Fiver, huh?

Forgetful and too many interests to keep track of? I vibe

She plays the flute I can't wai- oh dear god

Her garden is lovely, at least

Casual teleportation okay- ah my apologies, casual transportalization

:0 Bassist? Hewwo? I wanna see the silly little girl play a sweet bass riff hewwoooo

"Pet and best friend named BECQUEREL" what you're just not gonna specify what he is? Ominous

Ahhh so she's a furry? Good for her

Ah not a furry

I-irradiated?? Steak??

SWEET BASS MUSIC YEAHHHH

Oh holy shit this lunchtop is gonna give me a headache

Oh lordy more midnight crew? Violence? Heck yeah

BEATDOWN (STRIDER STYLE)?

YEAH KILL THAT PUPPET MURDER HIM FUCK YEAH

Oh uh oh Dave sweety you seem to be getting beaten by the puppet actually

Goodness Cal is truly horrific

I love how sweet Jade is 😭

I'm sorry Rose, are you leaving your mother to burn up there? Hi??

OH GOSH JOHN IS GETTING MERCED

Thank God for nannaquin, if she offered me a cookie I'd take it despite my hatred of clowns

You know what while the captchalogue stuff bores me after a while I can respect that the author put so much effort into designing it, this is a lot of detail

Punch card calculator? Oh I so need to abuse this immediately

Nevermind I actually don't want to deal with images right now lmaoo

Having fun with the chess board imagery, eh, Andrew?

Oh Jade's grandpa is the collector of all collectors I see

Worm

Fuck carcinoGeneticist all my homies hate carcinoGeneticist

THEY ARE SQUIRTLE GLASSES

These brothers are really on their mall ninja shit

One of my friends called Dave's older brother "fuckable" and I'm judging them hardcore rn

YEAH JOHN AND NANNA FUCK EM UP

I respect the Peregrine Mendicant

Tea set? Ah tea set

KITTY

Oh my God this kitten is so cute

Into the room? 👀👀👀

INTO THE DAD'S ROOM

Aw fine, into the foyer

Oh my gosh Jade's grandfather is so silly looking and oh my gosh he's a statue??

Oh he's DEAD

I love the kitten so much it's not even funny

Oo time to feed the beast!

THE SHAPE

At last we are in the father's room

Aw man it's boring business guy things

John's dad is a badass look at he go

Finally a modus that doesn't make me want to die

Oh no it's gotten worse

HE GOT A LITTLE SUIT WHAT A LITTLE BUSINESS GUY

I am living for John's mental breakdowns

THE SHAPE OF THE GUY! BEC! THE BEAST THE GUY THE DUDE!

Arf

Yall it is so hard for me to not binge this entire comic since I have free time, I didn't expect to enjoy it this much

Bec is a very good boy

Damn Rose is in hot water. Well, hot not-water. Fire she's on fire

DREAMBOT?

VODKA MUTINI

MOVE THE FUCK OVER SERENITY MUTIE IS NEW BEST CHARACTER

Mr Mayor 🥺

Fuck it were shotgunning all of act 3 in one night because I have no self control right now

THE WRINKLEFUCKER

AT LAST THE PUPPET IS DEAD

Bec in da lava

JOHN AWAKENS

These trolls are absolutely going to be plot relevant later too, damn. It's such a funky mix of "every single thing is important" and "this is for a visual gag"

And now the Aimless Renegade

Is this guy a cop? He seems like a pissy little cop so far

"YOU ARE THE LAW WHOOPS" this is a great comic

THE BUTTERFLY WAS INNOCENT

Baby Jaaaade 🥹🥹🥹

Hey Jade this temple looks really ominous

Is he gonna drink the piss

WIZARD CAAAAAAT

And that's the end of act 3 now we got Rose in here babeyyyyyy

I can see why this story used to be so popular and is still loved to this day this is so damn fun :)

[duck-in-a-thrift-store]

Alright guys here's the first room closeup (+ headcanons/notes), by popular demand:

~Mike & Will's room~

(Plz don't judge my choice of wall art I pretty much just picked it bc it matched the wallpaper colors and there weren't a lot of good options)

Ok so design details

I know yall see that blue and yellow, and the green in the middle. All very intentional. The bed w/ the yellow blanket is Will's & the one w/ the blue blanket is Mike's. They sit on the rug when they're having their little heart-to-hearts that the rest of the party never seem to be a part of for "some reason"

Also, these boys wear a lot of fuckin stripes, so. Blue and yellow striped wallpaper? Green striped rug? Idk man it was screaming byler what can I say

And then there's a record player or whatever on the dresser between them, bc as we all know Will is a music guy and Mike lets Will do whatever he wants even if that means keeping him up listening to his favorite song all night bc he'd never forgive himself if Vecna somehow got Will bc Mike made him turn it off*

*So, to explain what that's all about: after his repeated failed attempts with Max, One went after Will next bc y'know, lots of trauma, easy target, etc (at least that's what the mf thought, I'm pretty sure Will lowkey has powers or smthn)

(This happened before the start of the au btw so it's just sort of background info, it might be mentioned but it won't be happening in present)

But anyway Will almost got Vecna'd and it was partially Mike's fault bc they got in a fight, Mike said smthn stupid and Will ran off, we know the drill (Mike still blames himself for it even tho they made up & Will forgave him and is fine)

Mike kinda lost his shit, honestly I'm thinking in his terror he pushed El too hard to save Will (when she was already doing her best obviously bc that's her brother) and that was part of why they broke up bc even El realized he cared more about Will than her- Mike is pretty much the only one who doesn't know yet lol

And they all survived obviously but now they're both kinda extra paranoid about it and even though they've moved far away and One hasn't followed them they still worry that some day he might track them down, so they fall into a (compulsive) habit of playing Will's favorite songs on repeat

(I'm not giving you his fav songs bc first of all I can't even decide my own fav song and also it just feels really presumptuous like that's too personal of a thing for me to decide for somebody else. I take music very seriously & very personally ok. Funnily enough tho I am listening to "should I stay or should I go" at this very moment)

Anywho, moving along

That desk by the door is mostly used for coming up with new campaigns they don't want the others to spoil (it's ok for their roommate to have insider knowledge that's not an unfair advantage or anything and besides it just can't be helped y'know? /s) no but they do collaborate sometimes and they work so well together as storytellers that the others find it lowkey unsettling (Dustin and Lucas are used to it tho)

>tw: vaguely suicidal themes?

Someone, not thinking I guess, makes an offhand joke about them being on the ground floor so they don't have to worry about Mike jumping out the window, and Will, who somehow hadn't ever actually heard the whole "quarry story," asks what that's supposed to mean and then they very awkwardly have to explain and he's basically like "oh my god what the hell that's not fucking funny why would you joke about that" and for a while after learning about it he's extra conscious of any self-deprecating/self-sacrificing type shit Mike says

Also they have "crazy together" written somewhere in the room no one else will see it. It's uncertain where, or whose idea it was, or why they did it, but they did. Probably to sort of make the room feel more like it was claimed as *theirs* after having to move to a new house far away from familiarity, and as a reminder to always be there for each other when times are tough

[malevolententity]

PROJECT 14!! I TOOK A BREAK FROM PATTERNING RICHAS!!

oh boy!! this took all of quarentena part 1 to make!! its been a few years since i made anything mesh so whipping up this hat in? what 5 and a half hours? maybe 6? i have not checked the vod time and i was also Cooking Dinner during a portion of it so time is hard to judge on how long this actually took. but it was fun! it Did reawaken my urge to crochet a mesh shirt even tho i would never wear it because it would be so uncomfortable. but making mesh is just so very mindless in a way thats good for me. maybe i should make a mesh blanket to scratch that itch.

we have an array of models for this item! to try and show off the mesh say hello to the bobby i made back in? oh the beginning of april i believe? i dont think any of you have actually seen bobby he might have been a twitter exclusive, say hi to bobby. we also have green garlic my bulbasaur showing off the mesh the best i believe!

QUARENTENA SEASON THOUGHTS! YES I AM CALLING IT A SEASON THERES GONNA BE 2 EPS. SEASON 1 ONLY HAD 3 EPS. THIS TOO CAN BE A SEASON!

i am blown away by how fun this group is and the skills they all have to roleplay in a second or third language for like 6 hours with basically no breaks to speak their natural languages. that is taxing to do and to deliver a story on top of that? i am so proud and impressed with all of them. also holy shit????????? no one fucking died???? i was convinced when the oneshot, now season, was announced that it was going to be a dungeon crawl that ends in everyone dying. i cant believe theyre all still alive after that?? AND THEN THERES ANOTHER EPISODE IRL NEXT WEEK?? i cant wait for the tpk next week!

i love this entire cast of characters theyre all such weird fucking guys in the most complimentary ways. I LOVE THAT WE BASICALLY GOT A SAW MOVIE??? THRIVING!! in a move that shall surprise no one. diego is my favorite. look at him. he is guy of all time to me. BUT OKAY THEYRE ALL WEIRD and usually when you have a cast of weirdos theres always someone who doesnt gel but they all did!! they all fought each other!!! but they all still complimented each others insanity and. this is what the party comp is To Me

i am too lazy to open photoshot for this tonight. maybe you get it proper tomorrow<3

i loved the ending. i loved the slow realization on everyones faces that in saving themselves they might be killing the world and still themselves!!!! also i cant wait to see the fall out next week. i am so fucking upset my dnd game is scheduled for around the same time so i am going to miss probably the first 2ish hours but i know my dash and the official!!!! twitter updates account!!! will catch me up on those two hours so i can jump back in. but AAAA oh i loved this. i dont know if it was on purpose that this felt like a zero escape game at times but oh man the production quality in this vs where m at in season 2 is just mind blowing. i knew it got better once they started being in the studio but this was so great for a home game. ALSO YALL GO CHECK ON AMY??? GO GET THE KID??? YOU CANT JUST LEAVE THE TRAUMATIZED BABY ALONE AFTER EVERYTHING U DID TO KEEP HER ALIVE??? GO GET HER?????

AND ALSO?? STUDIO NEXT WEEK?? BRAZIL MEETUP??? OH I AM SO PLEASED TO SEE IT ALL AND WHAT HAPPENS. this is def my longest update for this silly crochet project i started just a few months ago and i apologize but also. i dont because this show does mean so much more to me than i know how to put into words. and its been a long time since i fell in love with a tabletop universe this quickly. and i feel so grateful that i got to be introduced to this ttrpg earlier this year, and got to pull some friends into watching quarentena tonight because theyve heard me gushing about how good this universe is and how i trust this to be satisfying horror which is so hard to do in ttrpgs, but thats another post for another day.

[daddyd0nt]

So are you a radfem or are you thirsting for girlcock? You are so all over with your posts are you pro-woman or pro-trans?

It has been like 2 years since I claimed the radfem label, I think they have a lot of really regressive ideas about horror and horror is my special interest as an autistic person and I really can't handle people who try to moralize fiction instead of calling their local precincts in a phone-bank situation and demanding that the untested rape kits be run or writing letters to women in prison/visiting elderly women in nursing homes, running drives for supplies for single mothers, escorting at a clinic, anything that takes more effort than going "that art that was made to be disturbing is disturbing so anybody who interacts with it or appreciates any aspect of it as art is immoral and a bad feminist". Like Yeah I like early Lucifer Valentine movies because they were a major part of my teen years and as a bulimic I relate to them in a weird way but Ive also volunteered as a clinic escort 3 times this year for a 7 hour shift in the freezing cold and last time I was in the hospital took both a girl who had never been before and was just 18 under my wing and protected her from the heroin fuckboys and also an older woman who was half-lucid I would personally go to her room when there was a meal or activity to make sure she didn't get left behind and we bonded over liking VC Andrews and she called me her "bonus granddaughter" by the time I was discharged, and then I called her twice a week until she was discharged and we lost touch. Can yall who judge me say that you've done as much? What are you actually doing for women if you are wasting time moralizing fiction?

Also i consider gender dysphoria to be a mental illness, which I personally have, I am detransitioned. I don't want people who have cocks in some of my private spaces but Im also a strong believer that we need to create 3rd sex safe spaces and cis-free spaces for trans people to be safe in. But im not "sucking girlcock" (im guessing you are a "rudefem" or whatever) by trying to be inclusive when I can be and treat everybody with dignity and basic respect regardless of their gender. I don't like making people feel bad because Im not trying to put myself in the place of the bullies who hurt me in my teens to feel better, it doesn't make me feel good to point out ways trans women don't pass or misgender them on purpose. When I feel as if I've hurt somebody's feelings, I feel bad. I don't have this hatred for trans people that a lot of the radfem community professes, another reason why I stopped identifying with the community. Again, when I was in the hospital, everybody under 20 was trans. I protected those kids FIRECLY. I corrected the old people immediately when they misgendered them ("You're so silly, Mr. Smith, Aiden is a boy, he just has a young face") and we had a lot of really great conversations about dysphoria which one of them later contact me on facebook and said I gave them the courage to detransition.

Im not trying to post "consistent" politics because I disagree with and agree with different aspects of most political issues and I don't owe anybody consistency. This is my personal vent blog Im not running for office. Ralph Waldo Emmerson wrote, "A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day. — 'Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.' — Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood." I think that sums it up better than I could.

[winderlylandchime]

2x16 1/2 He actually clapped his hands together and went ‘lets get this love confession on the road!!!’ So let’s all hold hands for this unfortunate moment that we are about to witness, i believe this is the exact definition of stolen innocence.

‘It is Justin’s birthday..and Ben’s, my god he’s so boring that he can’t even have his own birthday. Why are we suddenly sad over going to Babylon? Justin, my boy, an episode ago you were living your best life there? He’s probably just tired’ ‘oh Brian hates birthdays, i thought it was just his birthday he hated. OH WAIT he’s pretending so that he can surprise him duuuh!!’ ‘Oh wow Ben’s whole thing is yoga and Buddhism..no party on the planet could make that look fun...I’m gonna need Mel and Lindsay to stop, what will they do? HEY! Talk to Bri Bri first, you will mess up his plans for his birthday surprise! Or are they in on it? *looks at me all shocked* theyre in on it aren’t they? They’re gonna take him to a dinner and Brian will be there waiti- VIOLIN RECITAL? Why are they ignoring him if he said he’s not into it? This will be the most boring birthday ever. But don’t worry Bri Bri will come through’ he now paused the episode on the loft scene because he swears he knows the song in the background but he can’t figure it out and no app is helping him. And i wish i was joking when i say that it took him 20 minutes to discover the song because when he made me look up songs listed for the ep, it was the wrong one. He is now angry at the band bc they are the reason he couldn’t find it. Now finally back to the episode. ‘Awww Brian is fixing his tie, didn’t Justin wear a tie the entire season 1? Would it kill Mel to smile at Brian once? Just once? Can she leave? I don’t like her anymore, she is far too negative for my vibes. Aww he told him to not work too hard. I agree with Lindsay but don’t worry he will show him his present bc this is all a pla- see! he is flipping through ART BOOKS! He is planning a surprise for Justin and i cant wait!’ And now it’s the beginning of Ethan and i wish i was joking when i said that I actually flinched when the violin music started. ‘justin…this is not this exciting so calm down. Is he seriously drawing him? *he paused on Ethans face* is that supposed to be a goatee? Is that…is he for real? Nobody on that set told him to shave? Oh I do not like the vibes of this. Justin only draws Brian, why is he drawing this lil shit now? *pauses on Ethan again* WAIT IS THAT BUFFYS BOYFRIEND?! Oh i hated him there. Justin, stop drawing him.’ (Please send me your thoughts and strength because i am physically ill at the sight of Ethan and now I actually have to suffer him.) ‘justin..why do we care about this dude so much? A lesbian success story? Melly, ill be the judge of that because right now i am not happy. Oh what a pretentious prick. Just take the fucking complime- he did not blame the fact that he sucked on justin? Oldest trick in the book well get fucked goatee boy because WE HAVE A BRIAN! Why are mel and Linds so happy about whatever the fuck this bullshit is? Ohhhh big whoop you have your own CD well Brian has his own loft and a car and a comic book!’ He paused the episode again and went outside for a smoke and when i asked about it, he just pointed to the tv where Ethan was on it and screamed with his hands shaking around his head. ‘Why is he playing the violin music for Brian? Justin, we are done. The concert is over and we are now back to reality! OH BRIAN HAS A PRESENT! WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY! WHAT DID I SAY WAS GONNA HAPPEN?! I said this will happen and nobody believed me!! AND NOW YALL LOOK LIKE A FOO-….okay, I did not see this happening’ ‘….Emmett, you could’ve just ordered sushi. Oh debbie, is here too. Seriously is mel ever fucking quiet? Do these two not know how to mind their business? My god, mel and lindsay really dont know how to mind their fucking business! It was a dumb present okay but can they mind their own for a second. Have they ever had a successful party? Debbie shut the fuck up, i too would hate strangers in my house AND my phone stolen by my boyfriend!’

"‘lets get this love confession on the road!!!’ So let’s all hold hands for this unfortunate moment that we are about to witness, i believe this is the exact definition of stolen innocence." Setting a prayer circle for you and Brother.

He's pretending he hates birthdays and he should check with Mel and Linds so they don't ruin the surprise. Oh nooooooo.

Yes why on this green earth would you take him to a violin recital?!?! Inquiring minds want to know. If only Justin had said "nah that sounds boring" and stuck to his guns. IF ONLY. (Although I do believe they needed to break up for relationship growth but still the way Ethan happened was NOT IT).

Ohhhh big whoop you have your own CD well Brian has his own loft and a car and a comic book! <- YES. BROTHER

And then we have the racist party... Emmett you could have just ordered sushi.

And no, they have never had a successful party. Vacations and parties come to die in QAF 'verse.

[my-bipolar-journal]

27th June 2023

I can never have her read this

Letter to tamana

I miss u sometimes. Like I am doing well.. I don't regret leaving the group. I don't wanna rejoin...I hv found a few friends. They are good. I have trisha for the female bestie thing but I hate that I forgot why I didn't share things with ppl why I had secrets...ion regret telling them to u..u were gr8...its just now I have frnds but Ion hv a frnd. I mean usually when I get out of groups it's like easy it's always easy I hv had so many frnd groups but I never had smONE I'd started telling everything to. I m out here being vulnerable coz I feel like it'll give me closure from our frndship. I never lied when I said u made me believe in female frndships... I hv frnds I hv known since nursery but I never shared shit about my life with any1 until I git scolded by u for not sharing shit with u... it's ok ...n when I say it's ok it's not for u it's for myself...just reassuring myself that it's gonna be ok...tbh ion even miss tanav as much as i miss you....I just miss having someone to send

Cute dresses to

And someone to talk about all the guys i talk with knowing they won't judge me. I honestly was my most vulnerable self with u n it's hard not having u when I have a gud news or I m feeling like evaporating again

And I feel it often..the wish to evaporate

Ever since the jaspreet shit happened n then the parth shit. But when the yuehvir shit happened staying there became the cause of wanting to evaporate

All I had was u I was never angry at u no matter wat went wrong or whose sides we were on...maybe the group wasn't for me

But I honestly felt like u were made for mw

Now we won't ever get to see each other again

I might be starting college next month and so much has happened in the last months. So many ppl. So many boys. Janvi n Tanish broke up AGAIN but ion hv anyone to tell it to...I was better before I met u....maybe when we used to hate each other before the trip...it was gud. I was with ppl I didn't call my frnds but I never called anyone my frnd other than u

U were new n u got me hooked to having a fckinggg best frnd

U honestly ruined my life

when i got that offer letter today u were the first person i wanted to tell it to

but when u didnt pick up that call i realised i no longer had u

n when we were on that call i realised it was over. i m ok with how it turned out. i'll remember u as the girl who went against the dress code coz i wanted to wear a saree n she didnt want me to be alone.

. ill rmmbr u as someone who wanted us to get the same colleges n go on trips together. i didnt go to rishikesh. i just couldn't with you. Ill rmmbr u as sm1 who got me to sit on a khachar and made vaishnodevi happened. I’ll miss you I can not not miss you, but I am glad I no longer have you

ion care if u ss it or read it out to ppl on a grp call. ion care about them anymore. they have done shit and the fact that they have the odesity to call it a fight instead of a betrayal. i never wanna see their faces again. i dont wanna have to do anything with you i hate you and tanav the most coz you two were someone i really really thought fck it dont rply this is just for u to know n yall to know that it wasnt a fight . a fight was wat we had in 11th coz i reciprocated to it. this was way worse yudhvir is a pc of shit. jaspreet a two faced bitch. Tanav is just pretend yk i was wrong ion wanna rmmbr u as a frnd i wanna hate u for not standing up for me. for screwing me over. for being the worst best frnd i hv ever ever had. for making me hate myself . for chosing parth over me even though i thought i was your best frnd you can nevr be a gud female frdn u dont know female frndships ion ever ever want u back i deleted all your no.s but i went to a grp to call u

ill get rid of every way to contact u again i hope we never cross paths

[3416]

k but it is so hard to exist when youre not skinny i swear i

[cherrycola27]

HUNG UP

Chapter 4

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC Adaline Carson

Warnings: Language, drinking, allusion to Smut. Hangman being Hangman. Minors DNI 18+

"Oh my God Roos are you okay?" Adaline said running to his side. Rooster couldn't help but laugh.

"Told you it would work." He winked at her. Adaline smacked him upside the head. It was true his plan did work. While he was singing Rooster had noticed Jake leave the bar room like his ass was on fire. As he finished his song he whispered a plan in Adas ear. She had followed him outside where moments before Jake "caught them" he asked Adaline if she trusted him and told her to just go with it. One fake make out and some dirty talk later Roosters plan had worked.

"I can't believe he slapped you!" Ada exclaimed giving Bradley the once over. "Not the first time and won't be the last." He shrugged. "But at least we know how he really feels about you. I give it a week of us fake dating before he is confessing his love to you and begging you to be his girl." Rooster smiled proudly. "You'd better be right Bradshaw because I would hate for him to mess up your pretty little face." Adaline told him patting the spot where Jake had slapped Rooster moments ago.

"Oh so you think my face is pretty now?" Rooster raised an eyebrow. "Can it Bradshaw or next time I don't stop him." Adaline shot back. She and Rooster collected their things from inside and left the Hard Deck. Rooster dropped Ada off... she couldn't deal with his snoring another night. After she showered she flopped down on her bed and groaned. Even though Rooster had graced her with his presence the past two nights her sheets still held onto the spicy sweet scent of Jake.

Across town, once he had collected himself Jake told himself he needed to come up with a plan to win Adaline... his Adaline back. He couldn't deny his feelings any longer. He was in love with her. He had been since the first time he met her eight months ago when she was giving him stitches on his thumb after he had caught it in a canopy and how she joked asking him if he would give the experience two thumbs down if he could.

He needed to talk to someone... someone who understood women... someone who wouldn't judge him. He found himself pulling in front of a small bungalow. He knew it was late but he still pounded on the door. He was just about to walk away when the porch light turned on. "Bob? What are you doing here?" He asked when the door swung open to reveal someone he wasn't expecting. "Babe who's at the... Jesus Hangman it's one in the morning what are you doing here?" Siren said with sleep in her voice.

"I came to talk to you Si, ask for some advice. But never mind why I'm here why is Bobby Boy here?" Jake asked

"We're dating Dickhead. We have been for like five months. You would have known if you paid attention to someone other than yourself or Ada." Bob deadpanned not happy that his sleep had been interrupted.

"Okay cool... good for yall... listen, Si I really need your help... I fucked things up with Adaline and I know yall are close please help me!" Jake asked not missing a beat. "Can this not wait until a decent hour. We have training in the morning for crying out loud Seresin!" Siren grumbled.

"Please.... no it can't I am begging you!" Jake pleaded.

"Ugh fine." Siren rolled her eyes and let Jake in. "I'll go start some coffee." Bob muttered heading for the kitchen

"Okay so..." Jake began sitting at the kitchen island. "Ah ah ah" Siren stopped him holding up one finger taking a long sip of coffee from the mug Bob had handed her. "Ahh... now that's it. Now thay i am caffeinated you may begin." Siren said setting the mug down.

"Okay so I really messed things up with Adaline. We had this casual thing going on and somewhere along the way I caught feelings and I got scared and I kinda sorta slept with one of her friends when she was at that medical conference a few weeks ago and now she is dating Rooster and I can't stand it. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't be with another girl because all I can think about is her and how much I care about her... Jesus I'm in love with her!" Bob and Siren both sat there in silence processing the word vomit Jake had just spewed out.

"I think we might need something stronger than coffee for this Sadie." Bob said heading back in the kitchen to find some alcohol.

"Well... thats a lot to process Jake." Sadie (Siren) said looking into her her coffee cup. Bob came back with a glass of wine for all three of them. Sadie took a long drink of hers. "Did I mention that I also caught her and Rooster about to hook up outside the Hard Deck a few hours ago and I kinda slapped him across the face." Jake said innocently while taking a sip of his wine

"What the fuck Bagman?" Bob called almost choking on his drink. "I know... its bad... can yall please help me. I don't want to lose her" Jake ran his fingers through his hair.

"Honesty Jake, you just need to man up and tell her exactly how you feel. All that word vomit you just let out here... you need to tell her. Go to her house with some flowers and get on your needs and beg her to take you back. Admit that you fucked up and pray that she and Rooster are just a casual fling because she is trying to get over you. If you want her, show her. Prove it!" Siren laid it out for him.

"But Rooster has been there the past couple nights and we had a huge fight. She probably hates my guts!" Jake whined.

"Then wait til Rooster leaves one day, and put your big boy pants on and tell Ada how you feel. Man up Jake." Bob added.

"Bob just told me to man up... what has the world become?" Jake laughed. "A world where I'm getting laid and you aren't." Bob quipped back.

"Jesus Bob, I'm going to have to change your name from Baby on Board to Big Ol' Balls if you keep this up." Jake stated getting up from his seat.

"I'll keep that in mind next time we are in the sky Bagman. Don't do anything tonight. Give Ada a couple days to cool off. Go home, get some sleep and think about what we told you." Bob said escorting his friend to the door.

"Thanks you guys. Sorry I woke you up. See you tomorrow!" Hangman called over his shoulder. He walked back to his car and took a deep breath. Bob and Si were right. If he wanted to get his girl back he had to be honest with her and more importantly with himself.

"Okay Seresin... time to man up and admit your feelings." Jake whispered as he drove home.

Tag List: @marvelsvalhalla @shanimallina87

[mirahuyooo]

Memento Mei | knj

Memento Mei | Recordatio — Soulmate! AU

—   Remembering, to you, meant carrying a great deal of sorrows, but in spite of it all, you will do what you have long sworn to do—never forget.

Word Count: 10,168 (woAH ik) Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader Content/s: FLUFF, drAMa, ANGST, romance, pining, slow burn?? joon is one patient man OwO, flower language, NAMJOONING with NAMJOON h i m s e l f, NAMJOON IS A SWEETHEART, mrs (L/N) ships you two on hARD MODE, past lives both cute and tragic lol, historical inaccuracies with the past lives bc i may like history but my braincells were fizzing out, Soulmate AU, Reincarnation AU

[masterlist] | Part of the [Recordatio Series]

A/N: hi hello this is me channeling my grief of not being able to make it to the concert 😭😭😭 (to those of you who did i hope you guys have fun aND GIVE THE BOYS L O T S OF LOVE YALL 💞💕💞💕💗 ) this certainly took longer than expected but AyEeEE I L O V E this oneee bc I, too, am a slut for dramatics, soulmates, and the flower language ;((( This one got A LOT longer than anticipated too like AAAA and I know the implications of the synopsis and moodboard have made this a little predictable but shHHHHH enjoy reaDING THIS!!!

As the morning breeze blew against his wool coat, Namjoon clutched the bouquet tighter in his hold. Occupied by interviews, practices, and deadlines, it had been months since he had managed to have a chance to visit his past incarnation’s grave at the cemetery. The last flowers must be wilting away by now, he thinks to himself, looking at the fresh ones in his hand. Hope these last longer.

The idol then adjusts the mask on his face to further secure himself from being discovered. Many have raised their brows at the news of his self-established practice, and he’s sure the press would have a field day if they were to find him walking around a quaint cemetery. 

It was an odd custom to follow, that’s true—a lot wouldn’t really go on to seek out their past lives that much—but it had been one he decided to keep a few years back, especially since the circumstances allowed him to do so. It was for old time’s sake, after all, and with his tendency to not remember the entirety of the myriad lives he had lived, the sentiments couldn’t be helped.

His feet began to lead him naturally to where he had discovered his grave to be—a cobblestone settled somewhere a little further in. In the midst of his walk, Namjoon recalls the words written onto the slab. 

Ahn Jungnam 1951 - 1994 Beloved teacher, father & husband

His last life was a bland plaster wall compared to the vibrant graffiti that is his current lifetime. He had been a humble college professor then, who worked hard to provide for a family he dearly loved. The most excitement he would’ve gotten out of the week was having to entertain his son on a free day. His life was simple and peaceful, though he had lost a battle against cancer in his later years.

That very touch of serenity calms him sometimes, makes him feel ordinary for even just a fleeting second.  

Soon, however, the tall man’s steps slowed to a halt as he caught sight of a young woman from afar. She was clad in a tan trench coat, kneeling in front of the very grave he frequented. The cogs in his head began turning as he lost sense of reality whilst thinking to himself.

Is she the one who’s been leaving the other bouquets since last month?

It was most likely so, Namjoon decided. Judging by the flowers the young woman has with her now, Namjoon concluded that it’s the same flowers that he came across before. It’s always the same bouquet of red and purple flowers—different from the white roses that he would occasionally see rotting amidst the grass and stone slab.

But who is she then? Is she my past life’s granddaughter?

His brows furrowed, however, when he remembered the birth of his grandchild, just a few months shy from his previous death. No, that can’t be. I had a grandson. She can’t possibly be a distant relative. No one else really visits his grave as diligently as he does.

As Namjoon whips up a storm of questions in his head, his heart starts racing. His palms began sweating. It only got worse as he noticed the woman pack her things and stand up to leave.

All too suddenly, it felt like the world was on a timer, and his mind was reeling at the thought of the consequences he has yet to know but still dreads nonetheless. Something within him was clawing, begging to know who on Earth this woman was.

Namjoon could hardly believe the way he was reacting. This was getting ridiculous. He hasn’t felt these kinds of nerves since—

Letting his instincts take their reign upon him, his heart continued to hammer against the confines of his rib cages. He got closer and closer, letting his feet lead him towards the woman sitting all by herself at the corner of the diner.

He watched as her eyes skimmed over the dishes that the menu offered. She’s beautiful, he thought to himself, but is she who I think she is?

He had to make sure—he had to.

“Excuse me?” he began, “Miss?”

The tone that accompanied his words was pathetic as they left his lips. Instinctively, he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick his peers would often poke fun at. His bread cheeks soon set ablaze at the realization of his current appearance. 

Still, as embarrassed as he was, the young woman looked up at him, a soft smile pulling at her soft pink lips. He watched as the recognition sparks in her eyes and the excitement seizes her face.

Air was knocked out of his lungs as she lunged towards him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Butterflies erupt within him as he feels her nuzzle into his neck.  

“You remembered.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen at the memory triggered by his anxious constitution, a soft gasp falling from his lips at the indication of who this woman might be.

What if she’s who I think she is? What if she’s my soulmate?

The chances may be slim, but it can’t be fully impossible. After all, his instincts have almost always been exceptionally good.

Alas, it appears that he’s been too occupied with his thoughts. The distance between them grows, Namjoon realizes—albeit a little bit too late. Without thinking twice, he wills his feet to pick up the pace once more, not paying mind to the bouquet of roses in his hands that was slowly falling apart from his recklessly hasty movements.

Though he didn’t want to make a scene, a part of him wanted to scream from the top of his lungs. Damn it. He’s been waiting for this ever since he got his first trigger back in middle school. Come on, Kim Namjoon. Hurry up, and put those long legs to use.

With his inside voice cheering him on, Namjoon manages to catch the woman by the street. Alas, she had already crossed the other side of the road. All too sudden, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. “Excuse me!” he exclaimed, raising an arm to wave over at her. “Miss!”

A few heads turned from his commotion—fortunately, so did hers.

At that moment, the world was put on a pause, as all else seemed to cease to exist. The drumming in his heart was unmistakably familiar. His instincts have yet to fail him once more.

Even with half of his face covered with a black face mask, his heart swelled as he caught sight of the spark in her eyes—one he knew to be recognition. He watched as her eyes blurred with tears, realizing not too long after that his were doing the same.

He knew with her (e/c) eyes that he was home. This is it. It is her.

The smile that seizes his face beneath the mask was a torture for his cheeks, but his dimples remained present—too overjoyed to be bothered. His eyes had turned into crescents that pushed a few tears to slide down the sides of his face.

She breaks their eye contact to look around her, on both sides of the road, and at the streetlights that count a few seconds down. Taking the chance, she raced against the ticking clock, quickly crossing the road back towards him.

All these years, he’s been stuck with memories of lifetimes he can’t return to.

All these years, he’s waited anxiously to cross paths with his soulmate again.

All these years, she’s finally here.

In the corner of his eyes, Namjoon catches sight of a motorcycle in a hurry, speeding through the otherwise barely occupied street. His eyes widened, his body launching forward as he tried to stop her in her tracks.

“Wait!”

Outcries erupted from the crowd around him, as the collision happened before them. The man driving the motorcycle—a mere delivery boy—skids to a stop, panic setting into his eyes at the sight of the person he just hit. “Oh my God…” he gasped in horror, getting off to check on her. “Ma’am, are you okay?!”

Namjoon rushes towards the woman who, just seconds ago, he realized to be his soulmate, pushing past the crowd gathering. She lies on the pavement, unmoving with eyes slowly blinking as if her entire being was still processing what just happened. Blood was pooling beneath her, and he was unsure where it was coming from.

“Hey, hey,” he softly coos as he kneels beside her, careful not to move her body and worsen any injury by accident. Pulling his mask down, he tries to give a smile, but it’s shaky and betrays any strong upfront he was trying to show. “Don’t close your eyes, darling,” he tells her, “please.”

The woman stares at him, taking him in, but she gives no response. Somewhere, he hears someone calling for an ambulance, and it sends some sort of relief through him. “You hear that?” he urges her to hold on. “Help is coming, so stay awake, hm?”

She manages to crack a small smile, her hand inching closer to hold his. “You…” she tries to speak, but it comes out frail. A tear falls down the corner of her eyes.

Namjoon gently intertwines his fingers with hers as he uses his other hand to wipe at his tears. His heart hammers against his chest as he sees her losing grip on her consciousness. “Shh, don’t speak,” Namjoon hushes her, “don’t waste your energy, okay?”

Still, the woman persists, giving his hand a weak squeeze. Her eyes held so much that she wanted to say, but the two of them knew that time and fate’s grace upon them was uncertain. With the last of her strength, her words came to him in soft relief.

“You remembered…”

Namjoon gapes as her (e/c) eyes fall to a close. “No, no, no,” he utters under his breath, trying to look around for a sign of the ambulance. “Please, please!” he pleads, inching to shake her into waking up, but he knew that would do more harm than good. He collapses on the arm that held her hand, praying for a miracle to any god out there who would listen—even when he doesn’t worship one in the first place.

“Please, wake up.”

All these years, and she slips past his fingertips yet again.

Blooms of red and purple were nestled gently on her lap, the same way it cradled his head on one side. “They’re beautiful,” her voice softly declares, smiling down at her lap both at him and the flowers he stole from some garden on his way to meet her.

“Very,” he grins cheekily in a way that showed the dimples she loved to poke at, though he wasn’t necessarily thinking about the flowers and she knew that well enough to playfully roll her eyes at him.

She looked onto the beach before them, the sea breeze blowing her hair back as the amusement park in the distance continued to be idle background music.

“I love you.”

She couldn’t avoid the gasp that left her lips at the moment of his sudden confession. There on her lap, he pressed a kiss against the palm that rested against his cheek. “Forever.”

“I’d hope so,” she giggles, “I’m your soulmate after all.”

He smiles at that, and so does she. Ah yes, what a fortunate life this is for them to have met so easily and early and have more time to grow old together.

Her fingertips traced the slope of his nose, tapping the point of it at the end before she gave him a smile so full of love and affection.

“I love you, too,” she tells him, “forever.”

Eyes fluttering open, you immediately take note of the ringing in your head. It’s the very blank and static state of it that sends your chest heaving. Your vision blurred as your eyes stings, later wetting your cheeks.

You were crying. Why am I crying?

Looking around you, the bland, white walls of the room didn’t make you feel better at all—especially upon realizing you were hooked to a machine. A hospital—you were at a hospital.

“You’re awake.”

A man you hadn’t noticed before was staring at your figure in disbelief. That incredulous look turns into relief in an instant, as a smile spreads across his face and reveals a set of dimples that stirred something in you.

“You’re awake,” he repeats it, more to himself as he inches closer to your bed. He almost laughs at the news of it, as if he had hardly expected this day to come. Immediately, he flags down a nurse by the door and urges a doctor to come quickly.

You could only look at this man, head whirring to try and gauge him. Though his presence was like warmth on a cold winter’s day, the seasons suddenly turned scorching as you were reminded of your initial panic. The ringing in your head, the unfamiliar environment, and the heavy feeling in your chest for something you’re not entirely knowledgeable of.

“Who are you?”

The moment such words left your lips, you saw the fast flurry of emotions flashing across his eyes—emotions you couldn’t quite process well, but the overall falter to his posture was enough to tell you that what you said had gotten rid of any good in the moment.

It takes a while, but the man composes himself, taking a step back as he rubs the back of his neck like it’d relieve him of the awkward tension. “I’m…” he clears his throat before giving you a small smile, “I’m Kim Namjoon.”

It was then that the doctor came in, followed closely by a nurse or two. “Good morning, miss,” the doctor asks, adjusting his glasses as he gives you an amicable smile. “Do you remember your name? Do you know where you are?”

“I’m…” you began, but the cogs in your head were taking their time. The minutes it took you to respond was concerning to say the least. “(Y/N),” you eventually say, “I’m (Y/N) (L/N)… I’m in a… hospital…”

The rest of the questions go by like a blur in your head. In the end, you were told you were unconscious for about three months, and that, judging by your responses, you were likely suffering from retrograde amnesia after the accident. You could recall basic and old memories—your name, your family’s name, where you grew up, where you graduated—but your head was blank at the aspect of recent events.  

You still have so many questions you want to ask—not to the doctors, but to the Kim Namjoon who was there the moment you woke up. You have no recollection of him before, so he must be someone you knew just recently. 

Finding it difficult to tear your eyes away from his figure, you find yourself in an absent-minded trance. He was tall—really tall. You may just have to strain your neck a little to look up at him if you were to stand.

“(Y/N)? You alright?”

The deep voice that came out of his lips was a gentle rumble that somehow soothed you but sent little shivers down your spine—pleasant shivers, you think. Alas, your reverie ended when you came to a realization that he was talking to you. “Sorry,” you blink slowly, realizing that he was now just a few feet away from your hospital bed. “I… I was just thinking of something.” 

Namjoon nods, thoughtfully. “Do you...” he mulls over his words, “do you have any questions for me? I’d be glad to answer them for you.” 

You fiddled with the fabric of the blanket on your fingertips. You needed more details, you decided. “Wh—” you stammer, “what happened? Tell me more about what happened.”

A bitter smile, you notice, comes across his face. “You got hit by a delivery boy on your way to cross the street,” he tells you as he moves to a nearby table that was home to miscellaneous things—bags, snacks, and flowers among other things. “I was the one that admitted you to the hospital,” he tells you plainly, handing over a bag to you. “This is yours.”

The leather material shakes in your hands, your strength still not fully back in your system. 

“Your mother’s here, by the way,” Namjoon then tells you, catching you by surprise. “I told her about the incident. She flew here to watch over you while I’m away.”

Though glad to hear your mother was here, the last part of his words piqued your interest. If he had your mother flown here so she could take care of you while he was away, then does that mean he’s come by more than once?

“Who are you to me?” you find yourself asking that aloud. Was he a friend? A colleague? A lover?

You fluster at the thought of the last option, but soon see that Namjoon seems to be red as well. “Well…” he purses his lips, thinking of what to say. “I’m your—”

Just then, the door bursts open. A familiar woman frantically comes through, going first to Namjoon. “Where’s (Y/N)?” she asks him, “I heard she’s awake?”

He must’ve been in the way of her seeing you already awake. Before Namjoon could answer, you spoke up, voice still a bit raspy. “Mom?” you meekly call out. “I’m right here.”

Your mother immediately rushes to your side. You feel her urge to pull you in an embrace, but your current state doesn't allow her to recklessly do so. “Oh, thank goodness,” she sighs in relief as she clings onto your hand. “You’re okay.”

Your mother’s concern ends up being a catalyst to the emotions you’ve been bottling up. "I'm sorry," you ended up saying, voice quivering as you held back tears. 

Both Namjoon and your mother furrow their eyebrows together. It was your mother, who was nearest to you, that reached forth to caress your cheeks in comfort. "Nonsense, honey," your mother softly chastises. "What on earth do you have to say sorry for?"

She was right. You didn’t intend for any of this to happen at all, but your thoughts have already come to a conclusion about your burdens. "It must've been a bother to hear about the accident," you say, looking at the white sheets on your lap. "The bill, too," you suddenly gasp, "how much is it?"

Your mother shakes her head. "Don't worry about those things, honey," she tells you, "Namjoon's been helping me deal with that."

At the mention of his name, Namjoon, who had been occupied for a moment with something on his phone, looked up in confusion. "Mom said you've been a great help with my hospitalization," you give him a grateful smile, "Thank you."

A slight flush of red stretched across his cheeks and ears as he held back the beginnings of a shy grin at your words. "It's no problem, at all," he gently says, “I’m glad to be of help.”

There was a flutter in your heart that you pushed away, chalking it up to gratitude over the acts of a kind stranger. It was then you noticed the frequent flashing of his phone, something you could tell he deliberately tries to ignore. "Do you have somewhere else to be?" you softly ask, catching him off guard.

It takes Namjoon a while but he nods in embarrassment. “Is it important?” you stare at the device throwing up a tantrum. You wonder what it is that’s demanding his time from you so much. Was it his job? Was it his friends? Was it a significant other?

Somehow, that last part hurts to think of.

He nods again. You didn’t understand why he’s so hesitant to leave when he’s needed somewhere else. Did it have to do with what you two are? 

Alas, you didn’t have time to unpack all of that now. “It’s fine,” you assure him, “I’d hate to hold you back.” 

The man before you looked so torn that you, yourself, felt a bit downcast. "Alright..." he sighs in defeat, hesitantly taking the baseball cap and mask by the table, and securing it on his head. "I'm so sorry to leave so soon."

"It's alright, Namjoon," your mother smiles. "Take care."

Namjoon gives a polite bow and smiles. Distracted by his dimples, you only offer a meek wave with your hand. "I'll visit as soon as I can," he tells you. "Get well soon."

Numbly, you nod as something in you stirs.  Something in you feels at ease with his presence. Something in you feels fuzzy seeing his smile. Something in you hates to see him go—but not knowing what exactly makes you feel these things has forced you to keep your mouth shut. 

Not a moment later the door closes, your mysterious knight in shining armor gone. 

It was an absolute torture, really, to have be stuck for the next month in the dull walls of your hospital room doing recovery. On the bright side, it was nice to hear from your doctor that you were progressing quite nicely. You were still missing bits and pieces, of course, but it was something you couldn't force your brain to just up and do. 

That aside, it was the promise of getting out of the hospital that really pulled you through the gruelling hours you spent there. It was the curiosity, you suppose, of seeing the world you once knew and experiencing it again. 

There was also a certain boy that you found yourself looking forward to. Kim Namjoon would visit every week if he could, and he would bring with him food that actually tastes good (don't tell the hospital cafeteria that), some board games, red and purple flowers, or other things that made your stay a little worthwhile. He even came around bringing his friends around—Jimin and Taehyung, if your brain didn't fail to remind you clearly—and it was the most intense game of UNO you've ever had the chance to remember. 

If your mom had to take a break or go back to your apartment for something, Namjoon would be more than glad to watch over you. He already spends hours with his visits as is. The two of you would talk about anything, watch any movie on the television, or listen to his music. 

It was another thing that caught you off guard actually. 

Kim Namjoon is an idol. 

You had heard of his vibrant life nearly a week into your waking up. Still in the hospital bed, the two of you were sitting together as you waited for your mother to come back from your apartment. He had been reading a book, whilst you were idly flipping through the television channels. 

A music show came on and you swore one of the men looked like him. Styled to the nines and ready for the spotlight, he looked good—really, really good. 

“Is that you, Namjoon?” you had instantly asked him, pointing to the television. Never had you seen him so flustered before, but Namjoon managed to explain himself.

It was true. He is an idol—the leader of Bangtan Sonyeondan, an international KPop sensation, a man so sought after by millions of people around the world. 

It was hard to wrap your head around. To think that the man before you, the one who had been so diligently visiting you, was a celebrity. The constant ringing of his phone, the long intervals between his visits, and his fussing over a mask and a cap suddenly made so much sense. 

There were things you’ve managed to piece together from the weeks after your discharge from the hospital. It was thanks to your kind landlady and neighbors that you found out you were living in South Korea for about five years now. You had a decent job and a decent apartment. You seemed to have a decent life for yourself too.

There was still something missing though, but you still couldn’t put your finger on it. A large void in your heart that gapes at you, aching to be satiated with whatever it was that was taken from it on that fateful accident. 

In spite of that little mishap, however, you fell into a routine quite easily. Even if there were fragments in your memories missing, you still managed to wake up on time, go to work, come home to your mom, and spend time with her after finishing any other possible duties at hand. Those were what your weekdays consisted of, but on weekends? Weekends were for—

Knock, knock, knock. 

“Namjoon, good morning,” you hear your mom’s cheerful voice greet him by the door.

“Good morning, ma’am.” You could almost see that dimpley smile on his face.

A smile, too, blossoms on your face before you knew it. As usual, Namjoon was here on time. 

You take a frantic lookover of yourself at the mirror on your wall. Your outfit was simple enough—knit sweater over a midi dress and a trusty satchel to keep your things—but you worried somehow that it might not be a good match for whatever it is that was planned for today.

Exiting your room, you look up to see a familiar large man waving at you by the hallway with his other hand poorly hiding something behind his back. “Hello,” you greet him with a smile, “did you eat breakfast yet?” 

Namjoon sheepishly shakes his head as he hands you a small bouquet of red and purple flowers. They were a custom at this point, Namjoon having been so used to bringing you such flowers during his hospital visits that he had come to bring you them to every outing as well. "Didn't have enough time to," he then tells you as he slightly trails behind you to the kitchen where you took a big glass and filled it with water for a makeshift vase. The grin on his face persists as he sees you set the vase next to the ones that held the flowers he had brought you two weeks ago. 

A hum leaves your lips. "Guess that makes two of us," you say, awkwardly fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. 

“You two can grab a bite on the way then,” your mother suddenly swings into the kitchen, laying down a coat onto your shoulders as she presses a kiss on your cheeks. 

Her actions startle you. “But, mo—”

“I’m going to the spa, sweetie,” your mother declares as she excitedly ushers you and Namjoon out the door. “You two have fun!”

As the usual black car that served as your ride together on days like this came to a stop, Namjoon slides the door open for you and you murmur a shy thanks. “Thanks again,” you thank the man on the steering wheel as well, Namjoon grinning along with you as you both earned yourselves a little wave back from the driver.

The driver starts the car again to look for a parking spot, leaving you alone with Namjoon. It was then you prompted the question in your head. “Where are we going this time?” you ask him, head tilting to the side. 

Namjoon gestures to a building nearby. It was relatively big and the people walking around were sparse, giving it a more calm and private aura. “A museum,” he simply tells you this with a grin so contagious that your own lips couldn't help but beam back at him.

These were what you easily found yourself looking forward to in the weeks since you had been discharged from the hospital. Today would be Namjoon's third effort on taking you around Seoul—to refresh your memories, he had said, and to hang out together, too. Namjoon took you biking along Han River on the first time, bought the both of you some bungeo-ppang while watching the sun set on your little break. Then, he took you to an aquarium two weeks ago, too, dragging you around to point excitedly and gawk together at any cute sea critter he saw. 

Such moments like these were precious, not only because you were spending time with him, or because you were getting more and more familiar with the city, but because you knew for a fact that time for Namjoon was precious and yet he chose to spend it with you. 

You couldn’t understand how on Earth you managed to cross paths with a celebrity before your accident, or what exactly made you so special that a celebrity like him would find the time to fit you in his busy, busy schedule, but either way, you understood that your time together was a chance for Namjoon to take a break from his famous persona.  

“Your mom was awfully excited for spa day, wasn’t she?” Namjoon chuckles as the two of you walk along the street towards the museum.

This effectively knocks you out from your reverie. “To be fair, she’s always been interested in trying those sorts of things out,” you then shrug with a grin, as you check your phone for the time and the weather. “I think she thinks of you as a babysitter at this point.”

Namjoon, being the gentleman he is, only grins. You could swear you can imagine those dimples under his mask. “It’s alright,” he tells you, “I don’t mind at all.” 

All of a sudden, the idol comes to a sharp halt, making you look at him in confusion. He doesn’t answer—he doesn’t even look you in the eyes. Instead, his fingers suddenly weave together with yours. 

Naturally, his actions shock you to the point of having a blush spreading across your cheeks. You look onwards, and it suddenly clicks. Before you was a traffic light directing cars through the street that separated you two from the museum itself.

The accident.

Bits of it were still blurry in your head—all you knew, really, was that it hurt. Namjoon, on the other hand, was the one that must’ve seen the accident first hand, and the one that looked out for you in the hospital first in the place of your mother. 

You return your gaze to Namjoon, giving his hand a small squeeze in assurance. He finally glances your way, embarrassment written across his eyes, but you both do nothing to take your hands apart as the two of you crossed the road. 

His concern warms your heart and envelops you in an air so safe and sound. Kim Namjoon is clearly a blessing in your life—a literal angel from the heavens sent down to grace you with his presence. Whatever fate stitched your paths together, you were grateful for it. 

You did notice something, however. No matter how much you can chalk it up to him just being a nice guy, there were signs that resonated from him—signs that told you he may be caring for you just a little bit more than friends do. Fond smiles, lingering touches, constant hanging out, pretty flowers—no one, as far as you could tell, has ever given you this many flowers.  

You didn't want to assume, but you didn't want to go on like this either—not when you may or may not be hoping for a little bit of something. 

Eventually, you get the courage to ask him some time inside the museum. “Namjoon?” you hushly call out, unsure of whether or not you should keep your distance or take a step closer.

He takes his gaze away from the modern masterpiece on the wall, naturally taking a step closer to give his full attention to you. “Yeah?”

With the way he ended your own inner argument, your mind buffers for a moment at the good ruler-length distance between you both. You tear your gaze away, the damned chicken in you coming out at the last minute. You could feel Namjoon looking down at you in concern, but stood patiently still for your words. 

“Who are you to me?” you ask, voice so soft and feeble that the nerves were dreadfully obvious. A part of you mentally gives you a slap and a push to get all of this over with. “You…” you clear your throat, “You never really answered my question.. back then… at the hospital...”

To be honest with yourself, a part of you hoped that those flowers, those visits, those little touches meant something more. There was no shame in liking a man like Namjoon. He's a gentle giant with so much talent, love, and wisdom to give. Who wouldn't crush hard for the likes of him?

Oh wow. It feels weird to come to terms with your feelings—that giddy but antsy feeling in your belly, that rapid heart beating, that frantic buzzing of your head as all it could ever think now is him. It's a resounding conclusion, a childish need to start squealing overtaking your senses. 

Him. Him. Him.

I have a crush on him.

Before you, however, Namjoon stiffens. “Oh,” he says. 

And that one sound was somehow enough to blow a crack onto your heart. Fuck. Your eyes go wide in panic and distress. Did I complicate things? Did I make him uncomfortable?

“It’s fine!” you rushed to ease his discomfort. “You don’t have to answer me! Forget I said anythi—”

Namjoon’s eyes meet with yours, the indecipherable state of them stealing the words from your mouth and rendering you anticipating his. “You’re...” he began, searching for his choice of words. “You’re someone I really cherish in life.”

You nod softly, both endeared and disappointed to hear such words from his mouth. You wanted something specific—be it the words you wanted to hear or the words that could’ve broken your heart. Whether it was the "I like you" that would've made you the happiest woman alive or the "You're like a friend/sister to me" that would've shattered your daydream and give you a slap back to reality, "You're someone I really cherish in life" was a sentence that tiptoed on a line between two drastic territories. 

Namjoon settled for something a little vague.

Does he cherish you as a woman romantically or platonically?

Does he want to start calling these things dates too? 

Does he want to keep walking along with your hands intertwined too? 

Something—was it the desperate hopeless romantic in you?—told you that he was holding back. With the way his jaw was clenched, you came to think he’s frustrated with something—clearly something he’s not ready to talk about yet, so you do your best to move on. “That’s great,” you say, nonetheless, a bittersweet smile on your lips. “You’re someone I cherish, too.”

Someone I really hold dear to my heart.

It must've been obvious—your disdain—else, Namjoon wouldn't have spoke again to ease the awkward tension in the air. 

"We haven't known each other for that long before the incident," he tells you, rubbing at the back of his neck, "but you really have become someone I hold dear to my heart."

Then and there, your heart skips a beat. 

Something chaotic arose in you, a little devil that crawled from the very depths of your mind to wreak havoc with the new realized crush you had on the man beside you. There was barely friendship to ruin then if you two hadn't known each other for that long. 

Well, aside from the bond you've made together in the months you've been awake. 

Still, with this fresh news he told you, he made it sound like you two were too much strangers to have been anything. 

"It isn't that hard to like you."

Namjoon's head almost snaps to look at you. Your own hand almost snaps to slap it over your wretched mouth. The two of you could only gawk at each other. 

"What did you say?" a flabbergasted Namjoon asks you. 

A groan leaves you for a moment, you wanting—begging—the ground to just swallow you whole. Alas, all you could do is suck it up and be a big girl. "What I meant by that is," you cleared your throat, "it's a shame we weren't already well-acquainted before the accident. I think we could've been more than friends."

Namjoon gawks at you still. 

You take a deep breath. "I like you, Joon," you confess, the exhale you make seemingly taking the weight off your heart too. "I know it's too sudden, but I think I see you as someone more than just a friend."

The big oaf is still processing. "You… do?"

A laugh manages to escape you, finding amusement in his shock. "Yes," you say earnestly, feeling a bit more confident with your confession. "You're kind, handsome, and just a really awesome person," you tell him, "I meant it when I said you're someone I cherish."

His dimples resurface, and you are yet again helpless. Namjoon's eyes were soft yet twinkling as he gazed into yours. "I meant it to."

Two weeks passed by since that fateful day at the museum, and Namjoon was yet again occupied with his duties. It was fine of course—who were you to demand things from him?—but what didn’t sit right with you was how things were still a bit vague between you two. 

He acknowledged your crush. He even seemed to like it, too. Alas, in the midst of your giddy victory over not being outright rejected, you forgot to ask him for a clear answer too. 

Did he like you too?

You grow antsy by the minute, thoughts plaguing your overthinking brain to the point of a slight headache.

Fuck it.

You take a leap of faith—not caring if it was recklessly foolish of you—and grab your phone to type out the beginnings of your grand scheme to fully woo Kim Namjoon yourself. The words your fingers bring to life start off casual enough. 

Simple and easy enough to get out of, it only took you a few minutes of debating and overthinking to press that send button. 

It took three (painful) hours to get a reply, the sound of a notification springing you up from your dilapidated state on your bed. 

Your heart almost drops at the subtle rejection, but it doesn't hurt that much. Just a little bit. With a sigh, you type out your response, glad to know he’s somewhat available enough now that you’ve heard from him. 

A part of you fussed if what you sent was too cringey or awkwardly put, but his next words made you forget such thoughts in an instant.

You waited a couple more minutes, but nothing followed. Was that it? No worries, I will?

Another text interrupts the awful ache that just started to bubble within you, replacing it instead with confusion.

Ding dong

You hear the faint ring of the doorbell from your room, making you freeze. You glance at the words on your phone, then at the door where you could hear the distant voice of your mother answering the door. Not a moment later...

“(Y/N)!” she called out. “You have a delivery!”

As if they could bulge out, your eyes widened even further as you pocket your phone and slipped off your bed—pajamas, bed head, and all. Your feet took you to the kitchen where you heard your mother go about.  

There at the table were familiar flowers in red and purple, and just by looking at it, a sense of giddiness washes over you. You gently take them in your hand as the other fishes for your phone in the pocket of your hoodie. 

The smile on your face made your cheeks hurt.

Alas, there can only be so much good things you could have for a day.

“Are those from Namjoon?” your mother peeks from the kitchen, a warm smile stretching across her face as she resorts to leaning against the wall to look over at you.

Instinctively, you take a small whiff of the bouquet in hand as you tuck your phone away. “Yeah,” you absentmindedly reply with a ghost of a smile unknowingly making it to your face, almost forgetting about the fact that you were fretting over him in the first place.

You were oblivious to your mother’s pleased reaction. “What a sweetheart,” she muses, approaching you to take a closer look at the flowers. She rests both of her callous hands on each of your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze of excitement. “I’m so glad he’s your soulmate, sweetie,” she gushes, “he’s quite the keeper.”

At such words, you froze, heart skipping a beat. All this time, you had only thought Namjoon to be a friend you were having an awful crush on—but a soulmate?

Right, the soulmate system. How could you have forgotten to put soulmates into the whole equation of this?

“I’m sorry,” you breathlessly gawked, “did you just say soulmate?”

It seems like the soulmate system still works for the likes of Namjoon, whom Fate has robbed his soulmate of their memories from time long passed. 

No words could ever truly define how beyond ecstatic Namjoon is to hear such words from her. (Y/N) (L/N), his soulmate and other half for the rest of eternity and end of time, likes him. Even without remembering him as her soulmate, she likes him. It wasn't love just yet, but Namjoon was in no rush—not when everything was starting to fall back into place. 

Still, it begs a question in his head; will it be alright to try now?

Namjoon stares at the unconscious state of his soulmate, insides knotting together in an entangled mess of nerves and fury. He had just gotten off a discussion with the young delivery boy, the poor lad a sniffling mess as he was interrogated by Namjoon, his soulmate’s mother, and a lawyer. Mrs. (L/N) decided not to put up any charges, pitying the poor boy. 

“Thank you, Namjoon,” the woman told him, voice soft and hoarse, dripping with fatigue from both the travel and the grief.

Namjoon bows, a bit jittery—he was meeting his potential mother-in-law, after all. “It’s nothing, ma’am,” he shyly says, “I just wanted to make sure (Y/N) gets treated as best as possible.”

This notion causes Mrs. (L/N) to raise a brow. She hasn’t heard of a ‘Namjoon’ from her daughter before.“Does my daughter know you, Namjoon?”

Namjoon froze for a moment, but opted for honesty—not that he would’ve had the chance of being a believable liar when he’s this much of a wreck at the moment. “Uh...” he mulls his words over, “a little, ma’am.” 

Seeing confusion, he explains the situation further. “We met just a few minutes before the accident,” he tells her, breath shaking at the memory of the wave, the street, the crash, and the blood. His tears almost flooded his eyes again. “I’m her,” he shakily sighs with a bittersweet smile, “soulmate.”

Mrs. (L/N) was shocked for a moment, but soon enough an understanding flashed before her eyes.  She nods softly, staring at her daughter again with a fond smile. (Y/N) had been born with a lot of her past life memories intact, often crying about them.

Knowing that her daughter could've been happy with her soulmate already, but this happened instead, made (M/N) quite teary. Still, she was glad her daughter had a reliable soulmate. “Thank you for taking care of her in that short moment then,” she smiled, truly grateful.  

Infamous dimples proudly resurface on Namjoon’s cheeks, in spite of the shy demeanor in his smile. “She’s my soulmate, ma’am,” he said, “I’ll be taking care of her for the rest of my life, if fate allows me to.”

Namjoon's heart hammered against his chest as he recalled that moment at the hospital. 

Take care of (Y/N). Such were the words that he had pinned atop his many, many thoughts.

Alas, each day, it was getting harder and harder to keep himself in line—keep the longing and aching part of him locked away somewhere. He worries, thinks, and worries some more. 

Even if she liked him, it doesn't necessarily make it clear if he should court her now or wait for her triggers to start setting in. He wouldn't want to make the risk of an explosive trigger higher with a romantic relationship and end up putting her in pain. No. He will never let her get hurt. Never again. 

Take care of (Y/N)—he would often remind himself. Worry about her first before your feelings, Namjoon. You can do this.

A familiar ringtone rips through the air, pulling Namjoon from his internal debate. The contact on his phone read out the very name engraved in his head and his heart almost jumped out. 

He was just thinking of her. 

Not having it in him to distance himself more than he already has, Namjoon slides his finger across his phone. "Hello, (Y/N)?" he says, clearing his throat. A part of him worries that his poor choice of words in their chat earlier may have come across wrong in some way, or if she had som—

"We need to talk."

There was a shake in her voice. It didn’t sound furious—it didn’t sound like anything. It was numb almost, and that alone was enough to stop Namjoon’s world for a moment. “About what? Did something happen?” he immediately asks, a storm of worry brewing within him.  

Alas, he looks at his desk before him, littered with papers and work all over as a product of his reckless pursuit to keep his mind off of her. “I’m sorry, I can’t leave right now but if ther—”

A heavy breath puts an end to his words. “Namjoon, please,” you plea, emotions of all sorts drowning two simple words. It hurts to hear his name fall from your lips that way. 

Namjoon gets up, easily admitting defeat as he leaves his studio. “Alright. Wait for me.”

There can only be so much good things you could have for a day. 

Namjoon is your soulmate.

“Oh dear, I thought he told you already,” was what your mother had said after her little slip up. “With all the little dates you two have been to, I thought you would’ve known by now, sweetie.”

The news shook you to your core and you were elated and distraught all the same. You didn’t have a trigger. You didn’t have any prior memories. You were just left with a statement. 

Namjoon is your soulmate.

It was something that felt so right to hear, but with barely anything else to back it up, there was still doubt in your heart. 

Is that why he was hesitant? 

Why did he tell me in the first place? 

Was it bad?

Hell, you didn't even think to add soulmates to your grand scheme of wooing Kim Namjoon. How could the entire soulmate system slip past your mind in the past few months you've been awake?!

Namjoon is your soulmate.

You need to hear it from Namjoon yourself—hear if it’s true that the universe meant for you to be together, hear why he chose to hide that fact from you. 

And so, here you were at Han River waiting for him. 

“(Y/N)?”

Your heart stops to hear your name from an all too familiar voice. You couldn’t find it in you to turn around just yet, wanting nothing more than to put this all into pause. You weren’t a fan of confrontation—not after your miserable attempt in the museum. 

Footsteps approach you, and you know just who it is. You didn’t have to look up either. The feet that set its place before you and the bench you sat in were familiar shoes, yet all they served to be was a backdrop for the flowers presented to you.  

“You just sent me flowers an hour ago,” you manage to find your voice in a hushed whisper, a part of you wanting to laugh but your harried thoughts wouldn’t let you. It took a lot to look up at him—at the man who you first met in a hospital, at the man who held your heart, at the man who was apparently your soulmate all along.

Namjoon flusters before you, almost putting the small bunch in his hands away. Knowing his shortcoming, however, he remains with his hand outstretched. “You sounded upset,” he says, pulling his mask down to talk with you properly. “I thought they might make you feel better.”

Managing a small smile, you glance down at the flowers of red and purple he presents to you. As you gently took the bouquet from his hands, you couldn’t ignore the ringing in your head that seemed to be screaming out to you. 

“(Y/N)?” you faintly hear Namjoon’s voice call out to you in concern. There was a secure grip that held you up by the arms as you staggered a bit. 

You try to come back to reality. You try—but your senses wane. 

Alas, in spite of your best efforts, you were plunged into cold waters, unable to hear anything. Your breath hitched as the pinch in your heart began to escalate. In the confines of your own mind, you were frantically clawing your way out of the abyss—desperate to reach the surface and find out the truth.

Come on, (Y/N). Remember.

“Welcome to Purple Blooms, how may I help you?”

A warm smile made it to your face as you entered the premises of your local flower shop. You took notice that the attendant by the desk isn’t the usual blonde that manned the shop, but you greeted her nonetheless. “Hi,” you said with a slight bow, “I’m (Y/N) (L/N). I ordered a bouquet of—” 

“Red carnations and statices?” she piped, after your name seemed to ring a bell in her head. When you had replied with a nod, she disappeared to the staff room of the shop to retrieve your order.

Biding your time, you looked around to take in your surroundings, in spite of being so accustomed to the small shop in all of your months here. The scent of flowers in the air was prominent, but what really made you giddy was the amount of meaning these beauties possessed.

You knew quite a handful of the flower language—courtesy of your past lives’ fascination with them. To you, there was always an element of creative passion in the flowers and the message they convey could do wonders.

“Miss?”

Turning back to the attendant, you gave her a grateful smile as you handed her the money in exchange for the bouquet in her hands. “I had fun arranging this one,” she tells you, smiling brightly. “It was one of my first bouquets.”

Your eyebrows shot up in interest as you cradled the bouquet closer to you, taking a whiff of the flowers. “Really?” you mused, “You did a good job then. Thank you.”

“Any time, ma’am,” she beams, “Come again!”

As you exited the quaint shop, you waved the woman goodbye and went on your way to the cemetery—as you usually do with the bouquets. You gazed down on the red and purple hues in your hand, feeling the wistfully warm sensation in your heart.

You knew just what these flowers meant to you and your soulmate.

The utter joy in the air was easily contagious, the sun shining over the field only serving to amplify the vibrant aura of the moment. Before you stood your bestest friend in a raggedy shirt, loose pants, and wild hair askew in all sorts of directions. “For you, my lady,” she declared in a feign manly tone, revealing the flowers from behind him with a wide grin and a silly bow that makes you giggle as you do a similarly exaggerated bow. 

“Thank you, good sir,” you beam back, happily taking the small bunch she had likely stolen from Mrs. Hopkins’ garden. The flowers were pretty shades of purple and red—a gesture you didn’t quite understand as a twelve year old girl.

There were a lot of things you didn’t understand as a twelve year old, actually. Why your best friend’s roguish and carefree attitude was so frowned upon, why the boys in town had to be so cruel, why she had to be sent away. 

You would, however, in your later years, find the flowers to be a combination of red carnations and statices that, thanks to the book of flower language you came across in a library, respectively meant sincere love and remembrance. 

It is through this you saw flashes of the same flowers being given between two people. It is through this you had your very first trigger. 

There in that old house of a childhood long passed, tears fell upon the withered petals pressed and preserved in between the pages of your old favorite book. The truth dawned on you, leaving you helpless to do anything now that you had a husband and children to look after. 

Your soulmate and your best friend, one in the same. Your soulmate, a woman you haven’t seen in two decades, haven’t heard of since she was forced to board that ship to the new world with her older brother.

You cry—cry for the love you never had the chance to have with your other half in this lifetime, cry for what could’ve been but didn’t. 

In the next life, you vow. I’ll remember and love you more.

You remember now. 

That was the first lifetime in which neither of you remembered anything. So close yet so far, an almost that plagued that past incarnate of yours till the end of her life. 

It was funny, you thought. You were crying just as hard as this when your memories started coming to you when you were around ten. Your parents couldn’t understand the hysterics you were in, and nearly had to rush you to the hospital. This was the bitter and awful side of the soulmate system that the world had to become accustomed to. 

It became a catalyst for you maturing at such a young age—to know of customs and moments long gone, to have the knowledge of centuries return to you in days, to become suddenly so aware and so daunted of the fact that you were part of the soulmate system. 

You remember where your most recent incarnate had lived with her soulmate—Korea. It had been a quiet life, one you hoped you’d have in this life too. You supposed it was because of this that you were so drawn to go to South Korea too, causing you to study hard in order to convince your parents to go on a holiday trip around there.

You remember being fifteen and wanting to visit their graves for nostalgia’s sake on that very trip, laying down that bouquet of red carnations and statices over the cobblestone with tears and a bittersweet smile. 

You remember the pitiful gazes your mom would give you as she could only watch you at a distance, knowing she can’t do much with your past lives other than to support your current self. 

You remember deciding to just live in Korea all together as soon as you graduated, applying into multiple companies until you got accepted by your current employer—constantly going through places you’ve been to while making new adventures to tell, too.

You remember that day.

You remember going to the flower shop you frequent, remember smiling at the new employee who handed you the bouquet. 

You remember going to the cemetery, giving a short message over the grave and a silent prayer to meet your soulmate soon.   

You remember someone calling your name as you left, a man frantically waving at you from the other side of the street. 

Him. In an instant, you knew just who he was—knew just who those kind eyes belonged to. 

Your soulmate. Your other half.

Kim Namjoon. 

The sight of you trembling sent Namjoon’s head in a flurry of emotions. He sat you down, worried with the way your knees were buckling. He waits beside you, rubbing circles onto your back as he watched you stare down at the bouquet in your hands through your tears. 

It was after a long, almost torturous moment that he saw the weak turn you made to face him. Namjoon sees the recognition and struggle shining in your eyes as they flow with tears. “You remembered,” he softly gasps, eyes blurring with tears himself as he realizes this. His heavy heart eases for a moment, but it comes to a shortstop. 

Another wave of tears hit, a sob breaking past your lips as you nod, leaning close. “Oh, baby...” he sighs, heart clenching at the sight of you. Namjoon easily wraps his arms around you—both as a result of his own emotions and an effort to comfort you. 

“I remember,” you breathe, clutching his jacket tighter as you bury your head into his neck further. “I remember...”

Namjoon presses a gentle kiss into your hair. “Yes, you do,” he says as he pulls away and smiles gently at you, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I’m so happy you do.”

You clumsily rub away at your face in embarrassment of him seeing you like this, hands wet with more tears. “I’m sorry,” you sniffled.

The universe blessed you with a patient gentle giant for a soulmate. Namjoon brushes your hair away from your face, his touch of great effect calming you down from the rollercoaster that your surge of memories gave you. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, jagi,” he hushes you with gentle strokes on the back of your hand. “Cry it out. Deep breaths.”  

Doing as he said, you regain your composure—enough to at least form your words more coherently. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, voice a little hoarse and quiet that Namjoon had trouble understanding at first.

“What?”

The windows to your soul came to meet with his and Namjoon sees the pain swimming in them. “Why didn’t you tell me you were my soulmate?” you say, a little more clearly and a little more hurt. 

There was a guilty expression on Namjoon’s face and he shamefully looked away for a moment, but he takes a deep breath to man himself up. “I didn’t want to lay it on you so suddenly. You woke up barely knowing anything, after all.” he admitted, looking down at both of your hands. “ I thought, what if I suddenly cause a trigger? Wouldn’t it make things worse for her? I didn’t want that to happen.”

Alright, so he had a point, but— “I would’ve wanted to know that sooner, Joon,” you tell him, still upset having spent weeks pining for him, only to find out he’s been pining after you too but didn’t say anything about it.

“I know,” Namjoon sighs, looking at the sky to keep any more of his tears at bay. “I suppose I got scared of hurting you or seeing you in pain. I saw you get hit by a motorcycle,” he told you, “on the day I first saw you in this lifetime, I saw you get hit.”

The tremble on his voice easily elicits your own tears to come back. Namjoon sees this and gently shakes his head, a silent message for you to not waste any more tears. He presses a soft kiss onto your forehead before resting his own against it. 

Your eyes flutter to a close as you revel in his presence. “I’m sorry for hurting you even though I said I didn’t want to,” you hear him murmur, making a breathless chuckle leave your lips.

“It was pretty rude of you to do,” you jokingly muse, and Namjoon drops his head onto your shoulder with a groan, embarrassed of himself. 

The idol in your embrace savors the moment he had in your arms. “I know, I know...” he murmured, “I’m a terrible soulmate.”

Pulling away, you squish his face in your hands. “But you’re a great guy,” you coo at him, “and I still really, really like you.”

His dimples make their appearance, making you grin back at him. “Really?” he asks, eyes shining at the implication of your forgiveness.

You nod, cheeks hurt from all the giddy, happy feels. “Really.”

“I really, really like you, too,” he muses, the both of you chuckling. Elated, Namjoon leaned forwards and brought his lips onto your forehead yet again. “You won’t ever be in pain again,” he swore to you, “not if I can help it.”

As a smile blossoms in your lips, you close your eyes and lean forth, melting into his arms. Everything in your heart has fallen into place. 

It was alright now.

You remember. Both of you do.

It was now time to officially start anew in this lifetime, make new memories, and then some.