#begging this show to be lit without green/orange/pink once

[liarsource]

Pretty Little Liars: Summer School. May 9th.

[bush-viper-cutie]

Chapter One: The New House

Pairing: Snape x OC

Word Count: 2,472

Rating: E

Plot:  Severus, forced to live with his parents once again, moves into a new house with them… except the house itself isn’t new. Its old, very old indeed.

Warnings: none

A/N: Snapetober! I will be posting chapters often to this slice-of-life gothic slow-burn romance I have in my head :D Not following any prompts but I hope the general atmosphere of these chapters are spooky? Mixed with some gothic… maybe some supernatural elements ahead ;) Enjoy :D

Posted: 10/1/21

Chapter List

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~*~*~ = time skip

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Severus Snape hated his life. His parents were awful, his family had no money, no support from anyone, and everyone he'd ever known hated him. The majority of his 20 years of life had been like that, except for a small bit of it where it wasn't, where it had been alright. For a few quick years, he had one friend who understood him, although it was now as he sat in the backseat of his father's car, looking up at the clouds, that he wondered if she ever did.

The clouds coated the sky, covering every sliver of sunshine with thick grey. No light broke through and as a result, everything looked as miserable as his life felt. The droning of the car engine and tires on concrete grated his ears as he tried for peace of mind.

His father's suitcase - sandwiched above Severus' trunk and his mother's large bag - dug into his side, poking at him deeper with every turn the car took. They'd been driving for almost an hour but he knew they weren't even close to their destination; they were still inside the city, still inside its limits. He didn't need to know where they were going, even if he'd like to, he knew his father couldn't afford to move to any city nor any country home close by.

His mother sat quietly in the passenger seat, watching classy houses with nice, white picket fences and short little rose hedges pass by as they drove. She looked away from the window when they stopped at lights or when his father needed to look at the map for directions; Severus suspected she didn't want to know if any of the four-member families out on their daily evening walk around their block looked in to see who owned the beat-up little pile of scrap metal driving by their house.

He didn't care though. He hardly cared about anything lately. The last time he could remember caring was the scroll parchment he'd received for graduating Hogwarts. That was all he'd wanted for two years. After he'd lost his only friend - his only best friend - he focused on school and school alone. He thought everything about his life would change the second he got hold of that certificate. For a few long days it had felt like a first-place trophy, but it wasn't. It was what it was: A certificate, of completion, of participation. Nothing more.

Maybe he could have been something. If he'd gotten a job, saved up while living with his parents, and finally moved out, leaving them behind forever... But he didn't do that. He spent two years wasting time meddling in a bigoted cult working, selling potions for scrap. Hardly making enough to stay off the streets pretending like it was better than living at home just because the new sinking ship he'd found himself in was with his friends. Maybe eventually he could have made it work if it hadn't been for the Aurors who busted their small section of Death Eaters dedicated to making money selling illegal potions.

He supposed they threw themselves a party, thinking themselves big-shots, catching a handful of young adults making money out the back of a shady pub. He remembered the headline in the Daily Prophet: "Fourteen Death Eaters caught and awaiting sentencing". He supposed his mother thought herself a saint now too, bailing him out, saving him from days of "possible abuse" as if it were any worse than the prison he'd lived in all his life.

At first, he couldn't figure why - not for the life of him - she'd even care what happened to him. He wasn't a child and he wasn't her problem anymore. He knew she derived some sick pleasure knowing he not only owed his existence to her but now his freedom as well... and then it all came out. They bought a new house and it wasn't built to be kept up by two people, hell not even three but he was sure his extra pair of hands would come very handy to them.

They didn't even need to pay him. Not only was he their child, but that bail money was something he couldn't even attempt at paying back, and not because it had been a lot. She'd paid it in wizarding money left over from her witch days and she knew his wand had been broken as part of his sentencing. He'd have to beg some stuck-up department deep in the government for a wand permit which cost money. Then he'd have to buy himself a new wand, then work to pay her back all while "bumming" it at home while his father yelled about getting a "real job", one that didn't involve "devil magic" in the "devil society" that was the wizarding world. And he was sure he wouldn't be able to show up for work with a bruised eye or swollen jaw, even if by some miracle his employer could look past his new criminal record.

He held in a wince as the car turned again and the top luggage fell onto his head. He was back to old habits trying to pretend he didn't exist.

"Hey," Tobias said, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "Fix that."

Without a word, Severus shoved the luggage back onto the pile behind the driver's seat and sat back. They were on the outskirts of society now. The scenery had turned to country, and the smog of the city had cleared, though the skies were still dark.

His father stopped for a few moments and refolded the map on his lap. His mother carried on watching the world outside, unresponsive to either of them or the happenings inside the car.

"What's that say," Tobias handed Severus the map and lit a cigarette while he waited, not bothering to open the window.

Severus brought the map up to his eyes and squinted. His eyesight was poor and worsened by the approaching dark. "S-starts with 'c'..."

"S'got a double 't' or 'h'?"

"'H'." Severus handed it back and Tobias started driving again.  He took several turns and headed onto a rougher road.

Within minutes the tame country became wild and morphed into a long stretch of woods. For the first few minutes, he hadn't even noticed despite being completely focused on the environment that passed them, like his mother still was. The first few trees seemed to go on, and just when he thought they'd clear them and continue driving past open fields, the trees persisted until he realized they were deep inside a forest now.

A few more minutes passed and they finally did exit the forest into a wide field of dead chopped trees cleared to the side on either edge of the steep hill the car was climbing. Severus sat up finally, hearing his spine crack and snap into place after being hunched over for the better part of the day. He liked the colorful mushrooms and bright green moss growing on the black logs of the discarded trees.

"Here," Tobias grumbled, rolling down the window. He flicked his cigarette butt and rolled it back up.

Severus sat forward and looked out the windshield up at the house they were approaching. It was large and clearly abandoned, probably for a good decade. The shingles were covered in dead leaves, the paint was chipping, the windows were gray and smeared with dirt likely blown during wind storms. The porch was missing a step and the columns holding up the covering were slanted. It was more yellow at the top and browner at the bottom - rot on the foundation most likely.

He slumped back in his seat. At least, if it turned out horrible, if it came down the second they stepped inside, or the walls melted from mold before their eyes, their old home was still waiting for them, the cursed thing. Almost all houses back home on Spinners End were abandoned. No one to sell to, no one to buy decrepit eyesores in the shadow of rundown factories. But at least he still had the option if it all went wrong.

~*~*~

Severus stuffed his suitcase into the closet, kicked it in, and shut the door. Unpacking could wait. He turned around and looked at his room as a whole. It was small, located up the stairs in a corner. It had a slanted roof which was odd, considering there was a third floor above him. It would do though, it was on the opposite side of the house as his parent's room, so it would certainly do quite nicely.

He moved to the window and looked out to watch the mist settle below. His father was gone to town to purchase things they'd need: a lighter apparently for the fireplaces since this house was built before furnaces and never renovated. He felt like a poor house servant to a rich Lord, but it was better than feeling like a roach in his old home. They needed coal too, or maybe wood, whatever old metal kitchen stoves and ovens used.

Severus walked out of his room to look down the hall again. It was a larger house than he was used to - it practically felt like a palace - and was sure it would take a few days to memorize how to find the correct corridor places.  It wasn't Like Hogwarts, which typically took several years to memorize the right paths.

He walked down the opposite way he came and observed the way the dust clung to the walls giving the blue wallpaper a very muted look. The original owners liked their colors, practically every room had a different color to it. Corridors were blue, bedrooms green, dining room orange, library red, kitchen white, bathrooms pink... At least none of the colors were very offensive to the eyes, even without the dust they were all very muted and earthy.

He had explored the bottom floor, the second floor had all the bedrooms, and the third-floor stairs must be around somewhere, hidden. As he walked a new corridor he noticed there were spaces on the wall which had, at one time or another, held frames or mirrors but they were long gone. He turned the corner to a long hallway with very tall windows on one side. He could see the mist again and possibly behind it was more to the forest surrounding the house. He mentally noted which turn brought him to the back wall of the house. He walked on and at the center were the stairs to the third floor tucked into a gap in the wall opposite the windows.

The handrails were covered in dust and between the wood pillars were cobwebs that swayed as he crept up. There was an open floor filled with ghostly sheet-covered furniture. A chandelier holding half-used candles lay on the floor with a long chain still connected to the ceiling. Its crystals refracted light from the large windows on either side of the room.

He sat on a couch - not bothering with the cloth - and sighed. Eventually, they'd put him up to getting all this old stuff down so that his father could sell it, although, they'd already been inside once before and said they couldn't find the stairs to this floor - or large room.

He got up and walked back down the stairs peering into the small crevice between the handrail and wall. When he reached the bottom step he noticed the indent on the edge of the left-hand wall and pulled on it. A little ring popped out and when he pulled on that, the wall rolled out. No, it was a door. He pulled it further and closed it behind him. He stepped back against the windows. The wallpaper blended seamlessly and would have been hard for him to tell that it was a door at all. He pressed the blue-colored ring back against the wall and walked back to his room.

~*~*~

Severus heard a car door slam and sat up in bed. His father was finally back with the supplies to hopefully get dinner started. His nap must have been a few hours because the sun had already dipped below the tree lines.

"Severus," his father called out to him, his echoes from one side of the house bounced off every wall to reach Severus' ears. "Now."

He swung his legs over the bed and left his room, stumbling down the dark hallway towards the front of the house. He stopped at the foot of the stairs looking down. His father was smoking again and had dropped several grocery bags on the floor. He blew the smoke out of his mouth and looked up at Severus, then motioned for the bags and pointed in the general direction of the kitchen.

Severus obeyed and carried them in, placing them on the counter - which had been dusted - and started taking out the contents. The only modern appliance in the house was the fridge, tall silver and brand new; it must have been the real major cost of the house.

His father had bought a large head of cabbage and a pack of sausages. There were matches but no coal which means they might be having cold soup for dinner again. He put everything away and came back to stand at the door.

He stepped aside as Tobias entered the house again. Severus thought about stepping out and walking around for a bit, not wanting to be in the same house as his parents, but felt the distance between his room and theirs was enough for today.

He turned to the stairs and saw his mother holding the banister looking down at him.

"Tomorrow there'll be a list of chores for you in the kitchen," she said. Her stiff voice echoed throughout the house and she kept her eyes on him waiting for a response.

He gave none and she left, unbothered. It was the way of their relationship. She'd ignore everything he said, and he'd do the same. He walked up the stairs, hearing how they creaked and groaned under his weight, echoing off walls and resonating down the hall. He headed to his room and closed the door. It was only around nine, fully dark, but he was done with the day. Dinner wasn't worth facing them and staying awake any longer wasn't worth the boredom and loneliness.

He took his pillow out of his trunk and fell onto the bed, almost disappointed it didn't break and send any amount of adrenaline or chemical of any kind to his brain. He moved his pillow, slid his arm under it, and closed his eyes.

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Chapter List

Next Chapter –>

[wastelandcth]

empathy - cth

summary: a wedding date with best friend!calum leads to new discoveries. 

anon requested: maybe a lil wedding date imagine with best friend calum to your cousin’s wedding or somethin 🥺🥺 and possibly the cheesy best friends to lovers trope!!

author’s notes: this one was fun to write, i haven’t done anything outside of the doves for a few weeks so it was a nice break! also, the origin story to the empathy hoodie, what more could you want?

masterlist || request

Calum was always down for a good time. That was one of the main reasons why you two had managed to become so close in your friendship. Whether it was spontaneous sleepovers with wine and crappy movies or going to the beach on a cloudy day to see if it would rain, Calum was always one text away. You were grateful for that, because moving to Los Angeles on your own had been such a scary and new adventure and you met Calum your first week there. It was almost like some magical force had blessed you with him because you two instantly clicked and you found yourself wanting to learn more about the guy with brown eyes who had spilled his oat milk next to you at the grocery store. 

It was even more of a blessing now, when your mother had called you a few weeks before your cousin's wedding to inform you that you needed to bring a date to the big day. Normally, that wouldn't have been an issue, but since you'd recently broken up with your partner of a few months and dating in LA was just an obstacle course not ready to be dealt with. So when you texted Calum two weeks before the wedding begging him to accompany you as your date, you almost cried in relief when he asked when you'd need him to pick you up.

The drive to the northern part of California had been eventful. Calum had decided that leaving a day early would give you enough time to explore some of the small towns along the Pacific Coast Highway. That day was filled with karaoke while watching the ocean waves pass by the car, eating way too many french fries, and laughing over memes and tiktoks. It felt carefree, the anxiety over the fact your family was about to meet one of your best friends soon gone as the sunset lit up the sky with pinks and oranges. Calum had stopped at a motel with pink walls that seemed to blend into the sky, the car coming to a stop in front of the lobby as you sat waiting for him to come back with a key.

You were watching him from the glass doors, chuckling as he smiled at something the receptionist had told him. He was wearing his favorite hoodie, a green one that you'd embroidered for him one day while you were both spending the spring day together. He'd been having a hard time writing at home so he asked if it was okay to go over and try to find inspiration there. You'd been working on a present for your sister's birthday present, an embroidery of her dog, when Calum had shown up. He'd sat down next to you while you both quietly worked on your own projects, the warmth from his body making you lean into him without even realizing it. It wasn't long before you had convinced him to take off the plain green hoodie he was wearing and let you embroider something on it. 

"What are you thinking of doing?" he asked you, a smile on his face as he watched you pull the fabric tight on the hoop. 

"Empathy,' you nodded, "Reminds me of you."

The warm feeling that settled in your stomach that day was something you hadn't felt before when you had been around Calum. It felt like when you had laid in the sunny grass a few months back when Calum had promised to show you around the city for the best spots to find peace and quiet. It was warm and safe and everything you'd never had before.

"We should get some dinner," Calum mumbled as he got back into the car, taking you out of the warm memories, "I saw a few places down the street that looked promising, maybe we could check them out?" 

"Yeah, of course." you mumbled and nodded, trying to forget the warmth in your chest. 

The wedding ceremony had come and gone, vows and tears shed from both sides of the family. Calum had clapped and grinned down at you as the groom and bride walked down the aisle, squeezing the side of your waist as he led you out after everyone started to walk towards the reception. Meeting your family had been less eventful than you had imagined, everyone seeming to take to Calum almost as easily as you had. Your mother had proceeded to tell him how much she had appreciated that you had a friend in LA and your father had talked with him about the latest news to come out of the soccer world once Calum had informed him that he also tried to keep up with league news. 

After dinner, which had mostly been your parents chatting with Calum while your sister snuck in teasing glances when Calum's hand found a place on your thigh. The warm feeling hadn't gone away since the day in the motel. The harder you tried to push it away, the more you noticed it. At dinner, whenever Calum's eyes met yours, you couldn't help but blush and lose track of whatever story you had been telling. During the ceremony, his hand had been in yours, the warmth of his body keeping you calm as you noticed the usually bounce of your nervous leg calmed down. 

"Do you want dance?" Calum whispered in your ear at one point, everyone else who had been sitting at the table had left, leaving just the two of you alone. His hand was still on your thigh, squeezing the exposed skin gently as he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Y-yeah, dancing sounds fun." you whispered and cleared your throat as you stood up with him, leading him over to the dance floor. 

Calum's arms were the best place on Earth, that's all you knew as you both danced the night away, your bodies pressing against one another as the songs slowed down and more and more people left. Your eyes met Calum, a smile adorning his face as he sang along to whatever song was playing, your mind was too busy trying not to blush as you leaned your forehead against his. A second passed between you two, both too afraid for things to change but both too eager to let anymore time pass, before your lips met one another. A sigh left Calum, making you eager to press your lips to him again when you felt the strong arms around your waist pull you closer. 

The moon was still high in the sky when you both walked out of the ballroom, Calum's hand wrapped around your waist as you both made your way back up to the room somewhere on the fifth floor. Your head was laying on his shoulder, a shiver running through you as you stepped into the room and were met with a gust of chilly air. You slipped off your dress in the bathroom, letting the silky material pool at your feet, and changed into whatever pajamas you'd managed to grab from your bag before you had rushed into the bathroom to give yourself time to think about what had happened that night. Calum was sitting on the edge of bed, his curls a mess as he looked up at you. The green hoodie sat next to him, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth as you watched the gears in his brain turn. 

"You seemed like you were cold, I thought you would want to wear it to sleep." Calum mumbled after a few seconds of silence, his fingers fiddling with the loose thread of his sweatpants. 

You nodded, taking the hoodie and slipping it over yourself, Calum's scent engulfing you as the green hoodie brought the same warmth you'd been feeling for the past two days. Calum's hands found their place on your waist again, pulling you closer into his embrace, and it wasn't long before you were on his lap. Your hands rested on his shoulders as you both looked at one another, something unspoken passing between the two of you before your lips met and Calum leaned back onto the bed with you in his arms.

taglist: @hoodhoran​ @finelliine​ @moonlightcriess​ @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver​ @calpops​ @karajaynetoday​ @notlukehemmo​ @calumrose​ @devilatmydoor​ @lyss-xo​ @lowkeyflop​

[rymndsmth]

querencia (jang han seo)

🎤 hello and gather around fellow himbo lovers, here is a small fic about our beloved and his life after That guy kicks the bucket. also idk how i managed to turn this into a love story? anyways lmfao, hope y’all enjoy! 

Everything felt so different.

Truthfully, Han Seo never imagined what his life could be like, would be like, without the proverbial ever tightening noose around his neck. One that had been unexpectedly and disappointingly placed on him as a child by the one person that was supposed to remove such things. He was now free of that person, and the fear that stemmed from veering off the path set by them, but wasn’t entirely too certain that he was free of that feeling. 

His muscles couldn’t shake it. The sudden chill to the bone, the anticipation of retaliation from an act that hadn’t yet occurred. Such an act that could never occur anymore given that his brother was dead. He knew this, but his mind had never been good at accepting possibilities that were positive. 

This much was evident in the case of his relationship with Vincenzo. There was no reason why the stoic yet baby faced Mafia member would want to keep him around, at least not any that he could see. So, Han Seo spent the first few weeks asking the question both silently and aloud, will you kill me? Vincenzo had the motive, it’s not exactly like his hands were clean in his previous dealings with Babel, and he most certainly had the means.

It wasn’t until Han Seo was told that because he was trying to make amends, he wouldn’t end up in the Jang family crypt well before his time that he started to feel at ease. Still, for months after that conversation, he still had the nagging feeling that some invisible fist was lurking around every bend. 

Regardless of that, Han Seo decided he would not waste his liberation however short lived it might have been. He made up his mind that he was going to do all the things that he was either too scared or outright forbidden to do before. The first thing on his list was to clean up his business. Luckily for him, the Guillotine file made it easy to weed out the snakes in the grass and allow him to steer Babel in the direction that the core of the business was about. 

The hardest part was going to be restoring the public’s faith in the organization. Cha Young told him as much, and advised him not to agonize over it as there will be new corruption that will grab their attention (and hers). He intended to be the Chairman that such a company deserved, and therefore continued to study no matter how nonsensical and outdated the information seemed. 

The second order of business was moving out of the place that felt more like a prison than a home to one that he liked. The realtor immediately recommended a few luxury places, but he turned them down to their surprise. Maybe it was due to the fact that he had seen what the quest for material wealth had done to his family (or more realistically because he wanted to be closer to newfound hyung  and his girlfriend). 

Either way, the house he settled on had its luxuries, but in a more affordable and quaint neighborhood. Han Seo even went as far as to attempt painting on his own, which went as well as expected for someone that didn’t even know the difference between a brush and a roller. 

Being able to do what he wanted proved to be chaotic at times. There was no one to stop him from going on last minute trips to Jeju just for oranges and a quick dip into the ocean. Or to take away all the sweet and savory snacks that he found at these things called convenience stores. 

He would stay up all night sometimes, not to binge watch all the shows he missed out on, but just to sit in silence. He didn’t know that the quiet could be so nice. That it was a space of tranquility and relaxation rather than one filled with anxiety. Of course, Han Seo more often than not regretted the choice not to sleep and ended up at the cafe a few blocks from his place. 

While obviously no one had better coffee than the one at Babel, he found himself going to the cozy spot with increasing frequency because of her. The first time he saw her, she was deciding on which apple to choose from the basket beside the register. He then noticed that her canvas bag was filled with art supplies, and decided that it was a brilliant idea to draw a conclusion. 

I think the one to the right would make a great subject on paper, he grinned. 

She stared at him in a way that made him contemplate whether to not she was related to Vincenzo hyung before replying flatly:

I’m looking for the tartest one to go with my tea. 

He was left a bumbling mess of flustered sounds and rapidly blinks, not getting the opportunity to insert some retort that undoubtably would’ve put him deeper into the realm of idiot. 

The following morning he went again. No cup of coffee, not even the ridiculously overpriced espresso at Babel, would give him that jolt of electricity he felt under her gaze. And sure enough, she was there. This time her apple sat upon a folded napkin right beside her tea, and in front of them both was her sketchpad. On the page? A picture of the fruit. He couldn’t control the noise of exasperation that left him as he passed her table. On his way out he tossed over his shoulder with a grin so wide it hurt:

Nice drawing. 

Their interactions continued in that same vein. Short, filled with just the right amount of bite. The balance of who had the best and last say constantly shifting, becoming somewhat of a competition. 

You’re outside today, is that weed your subject?

As if there weren’t enough clowns in this neighborhood already.

You buy a lot of lattes for an artist that’s supposed to be starving.

Ironic coming from the gentrifier walking around a working class neighborhood in thousand dollar shoes.  

He had look up what that g word meant after their last exchange.

There was something else he never got to do in his past. Sure, Han Seo had the occasional date or two, but commitment? That was out of the question. It wouldn’t have served his brother well if there was anyone around that would motivate him to step out from his hold. The realization that he never had a serious relationship hadn’t hit him until he started to have inconvenient thoughts during board meetings about stuff like taking a long afternoon stroll, and holding hands with her.

Han Seo could barely focus on the stack of jargon dense reading before him. He sent Vincenzo a text saying that he was coming over with soju, not waiting for a reply before making the short journey to Geumga. Cha Young’s face fell when she answered the door, muttering that she thought he was her delivery, but lit up once she saw he brought along alcohol. After poking around the rice he begged for them to share and sighing loudly for half an hour, Vincenzo ushered him out. He implored him to get a hobby so that these late night visits wouldn’t become a habit.  

He was confused by that. Weren’t studying and running a company hobbies? On his walk back home he spotted a flyer that someone was offering private classes for beginners painting. The nightmare of a time he had trying to get the walls in his kitchen evenly colored popped up in his brain, instantly making him tear off one of the numbers. He didn’t exactly know how learning to paint homes was going to be a practical hobby, but hell, he would have something to show Vincenzo later. 

While he was on one of his impromptu trips to the seaside, Han Seo had his assistant set up the class for him to take when he returned. As a gift for the instructor, he thought it would be nice to bring them an extra bag of oranges. If the session sucked, or if he hated it, at the very least there was going to be something to brighten the mood. 

The day he got back, he even went as far as to tidy up the place on his own and put some fresh flowers around so the air was lightly scented. He practically waited at the door until the alarm sounded to let him know that his instructor arrived. 

Is this a joke? She huffed.

No, I didn’t even know you were the teacher! His protest was adamant. I was on a trip and even brought back Jeju- He paused. Han Seo knew he wasn’t the brightest, but bringing up the oranges seemed like it would upset her given their previous history. 

You brought back what? Her brow raised.

Mmm, good energy! Don’t you feel the vibes from the ocean? He spread his arms wide. 

Han Seo waved her inside hurriedly, trying desperately to get past the awkward exchange. Of all people, he never would’ve thought it would be the neighborhood’s cute sass machine. A small noise of happiness couldn’t be stopped from escaping him as she accepted the invitation. Her eyes scanned the place without restraint, nose wrinkling when she took a look at the kitchen. 

Where are your supplies? A slender finger ran across the surface of his counter. 

Supplies? He thought that was included in the price for the lessons. 

She sighed, placing a sketchbook, brushes, and small pots of paint onto the table. It was now very apparent to him that the advertisement did not mean what he thought it did. Thank goodness he also didn’t decide to open his mouth about that beforehand, it probably would’ve made her smack him with her bag. 

Here, the materials were slid over when he sat. Paint something.

His facial expression surely mirrored what he was thinking. Han Seo had no recollection of ever trying to do this, not even during the course of his way overpriced private school education. She urged him on with a nod, only relaxing into her chair when he flipped open the book and picked up a fine brush. 

There was nothing in particular he wanted to paint. Hell, he didn’t even know if he wanted to paint at all. This was simply something random that came up when he needed it. 

To avoid being chastised, he dipped his brush into the light blue color and started swiping randomly across the blank page. He swapped the brush and added some dark green, then pink, and finished if off with small dots of white. At the end it looked like something a toddler would’ve considered a masterpiece. She eyed it with surprising interest. 

You clearly didn’t know what you wanted to achieve with this, or why you were doing it at all. 

Han Seo was about to interject with a prideful defense before she continued. 

That’s good. It’s better to work with an unbiased mind. Her eyes met his. Your technique is shit though. 

He laughed, like truly laughed. It was a full bellied, unashamedly loud, attack of sonic waves. She seemed to find it amusing, a hint of a smile dancing across her lips. 

Alright, let’s start with how to actually hold a paintbrush. 

There was no telling when their interactions had gone from less than playful banter to warm and friendly (still with a side of joking). Han Seo couldn’t put his finger on it. Did it happen during the second lesson where he mistakenly put paint on her hands, and didn’t settle for no when he said he would wash them off for her? 

Or was it the time he was running late for work, but the barista already had his order prepared because she told them that he was on the way? Perhaps it was the time she had to reschedule their Saturday morning for the evening instead, and all he could think about was trying to replicate the color of her alcohol flushed cheeks onto the page before him. 

Han Seo had never done the whole confession thing before, so he wasn’t sure about how it worked. An unfamiliar kind of anxiety crept up his spine as he poured glasses of wine and organized a fruit plate. Soft music played in the background accompanied by the crackle of the expensive candles he bought specifically for the occasion. Her mouth parted slightly as she took everything in once she arrived for what was supposed to be an ordinary session involving watercolors. 

Wow, got a hot date later or something? Her legs seemed to automatically take her to the table. 

Actually, He brought the glasses over to where she sat. It’s for you. 

Oh…She gasped. A few seconds passed that felt more like minutes before she picked one up and held it high. Cheers then!

Something about it made him feel like he made a mistake. Did he misread their change in demeanor towards one another? Was she truly just being kinder to him because she considered him to only be a friend? Han Seo tried to not let the embarrassment he felt seep into the room, keeping a smile locked and loaded for when she made a witty remark about stuff like him painting in the most inappropriate white button down. 

Don’t you have something to say to me? She quipped, neatly putting her things away after he finished. 

Me? I- no…I... He clenched his fists. Why couldn’t he come out and say it?! This was as good as a chance as he was ever going to get. If he let this opportunity slip, he wasn’t sure if there would be one again. He had to act, he had to-

What sounded like a small growl came from her as she raked her hand through her hair. She pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, her nose just shy of rubbing against his. 

Jang Han Seo, when are you gonna stop driving me insane? She murmured, labored breaths dancing across his cupid’s bow. 

If only she knew how true and reciprocated that question was to him too. From the moment he couldn’t fight against thoughts about her entering his mind, to the smile she wore when he stepped across his threshold, and the way she said his goddamned name, it was all enough to make him want to combust. To burst out of his skin, transforming into something or someone else entirely. A person that fully accepted that there were no more restraints on their lives, that they was no more fear and no more betrayal. Someone that was completely in control, and free to take what was theirs. And so he did. 

It was painful, almost, the first time he kissed her. The second time even more so. By the third time, coupled with the question of her tongue prodding at his bottom lip, Han Seo had shedded the last of his previous being. He cupped her face, thumbs toying with her curled sideburns as he consumed her. Quiet whimpers made way for desperate cries, shivers were replaced by the searing heat of skin on skin. 

The high he’d chased fruitlessly so many times throughout his life was finally achieved with his arms wrapped tightly around her, their bodies pressed together as she shuddered and sighed his name. He was in disbelief that what he had experienced was real, so he chased it again and again, receiving the same result each time his sweat slicked forehead bowed to meet hers. 

Han Seo would learn that it could be obtained outside of that space they filled with the tangible evidence of their desire. It was also in buying melon flavored ice pops to eat in the park together on sunny days. The look on Vincenzo and Cha Young’s face when he timidly made the introduction. Her expression when she took her first bite of Hee Soo’s tteokbokki. When Mr. Nam and her had an hour long debate on which shade of red made the most realistic fake blood color. The flashing Best Chairman Ever coming from her phone when Babel secured their biggest deal yet without any dirty deals behind the scenes. 

That feeling, one that outshone the other by such a long shot that it was nearly eradicated, had been there all along in the life he’d made. She just helped him see it.  

[itstittycitybaby]

Flirty and Lin Halloween Special

a/n: ok before you all come and fuck me, this is just a special alright. the timeline is non existent. thinking of a christmas special now but flirty is wearing the santa outfit that regina george wears. also thank you to the anon for giving me this idea and giving me premission to write it! it was sooo much fun :)). with that being said here’s tonight’s halloween special. 

Warnings: NSFW 18+,mommy kink, slight pet play?, degradation, thigh riding.

It was stupid really. Halloween was a holiday where drunken idiots paraded around and made stupid decisions. If you were to ask the police in Republic City what day they arrested people the most on, all of them would collectively agree that it was Halloween night. Which meant more paper work to file and sign and an even grumpier Chief.

“Plllleeeeaseeee, it’ll be soo much fun! For old times sake?” Lin regretted agreeing to showing up to Asami’s mansion for a foolish party. But the way you pleaded and batted your lashes made Lin feel weak. You knew if you batted your lashes and asked sweetly, Lin would give you anything. Even the damn moon. So, here she was.

Lin stepped into the mansion. Cheesy pumpkin decorations and spooky ghosts  hung throughout the entrance of the manor. Fog from smoke machines whisped around the main entrance. Lights winkled and hung from the banisters of the stairs in a pattern of red, orange, and yellow. Lin had to give Asami credit for the decorations. She really outdone herself.

“Chief!” Lin groaned. She hoped to sneak in unnoticed but fate seemed to have other plans in store. “What,” she grumbled at Mako. “Just surprised to see you,” he answered, a drink in hand. Bolin stood beside him talking to some girl in a green ball gown and gold masquerade mask. Lin knew it wasn’t you, but she wished it was. At least then she wouldn’t have to talk to these idiots.

 “I’m surprised I even bothered to show up,” she snarked. “I’m glad you did,” Asami piped up with a cheerful smile, revealing fake fangs. She wore a black lace dress with a slit and low cut on the top. A train of black lace pooled around her feet. There was fake red blood under her lips. ‘Typical’. “Nice costume,” Asami said, pointing to the cat ears on Lin’s head. You had begged her to at least wear something festive instead of her armor. “Thanks,” Lin muttered. Her eyes shifted around the room. She seemed to be searching from something. Searching for you.

Mako and Asami glanced at each other awkwardly. The air became tense and uncomfortable but Lin ignored it. She was busy trying to find your face in the crowd. “There’s refreshments in the ball room with some dancing. Knock yourself out!” Giving one last smile to Lin, Asami left her alone with the two idiot brothers, black lace pillowing behind her. It was going to be a long night.

****

 Lin’s heart stopped. The infamous pink silk bunny suit was back. She didn’t know you even still had it. It barely covered your chest and it made your ass pop out. White fluffy bunny ears sat on your head and there was a little white puff ball sitting above your ass. On your thighs were pink heart garters with white thigh high stockings.

The choker topped it all off. It was pink with frilly white lace on the sides and a pink bow with a bell stuck in the middle. It rang softly every time you moved. You were chatting with some of the guests while pouring a fruity drink. Bolin had been the first to see you. His eyes popped out of his head and his jaw hung open. Lin scoffed and her brows furrowed, looking in the direction his eyes fell. Lin felt her face become red and her lips pulled into a sneer; she was absolutely seething. How dare that idiot gawk at you like that? Her eyes narrowed dangerously, lips curling. 

“See something you like,” she barked. “N-no m’am,” Bolin stammered, eyes snapping away from yours. His gaze fell to his shoes and he stubbornly refused to look up. Lin could see Bolin’s cheeks scarlet. Mako coughed with his cheeks turning pink and refused to glance in your direction. “E-excuse us Chief,” Mako mumbled, pulling his brother by the back of the collar. Lin ignored him and trained her eyes on you.

****

“Bumi!” Your best friend turned around. A cigar hung out of his lips and a glass of rum in cupped in his hand. Bumi’s eyes lit up once he saw you. “Oof,” he grunted from the bone crushing hug you gave him. You smelt faintly of cotton candy.

“Ya look great! never thought I’d see this again” Bumi said, gesturing to the signature bunny costume. You giggled, “Thanks! Lin’s probably already been threatening people because of it.”

Bumi let out a booming laugh. Several glances were thrown your way but you didn’t care. You missed him. It had been so long since you’ve seen your best friend. Bumi was a kindhearted soul who was very thoughtful (even if his brother and Lin disagreed). You could always count on him.

“She was always a jealous one wasn’t she?” You nodded, sipping the vodka in your punch and relishing the burn that traveled down your throat. Asami mentioned there wasn’t going to be any alcohol, so you snuck a tiny bottle of liquor in your costume. It would be lame without a drink. The vodka made the fruit punch taste a little more bitter. How Lin could drink vodka straight up was beyond you.

“How’s er..the lad doing?” You smiled sadly at the mention of your brother. “Good enough. Haven’t been able to see him in a while. You know how he is, working and stressing himself out to the max.”

“Jus’ like a bright inventor I know. They work too hard on themselves.” You smiled, “Well, we know where he gets it from.” The two of you stood next to each other in comfortable silence. Bumi seemed lost in thought as he swirled his glass full of rum around. “Is Tenzin here?” He chuckled at the light snarkiness in your voice. You never seemed to let go of the grudge you held against Bumi’s brother. 

He followed your gaze to the dance floor. People were piled on it and dressed in different costumes. Their hips swung to the pulsing beat. The floor was foggy from the smoke machine and balloons glided through the air as they floated up and down. “Nah,” Bumi scoffed, “mentioned Pema taking the kids out trick or treating..I think.” You hummed. From what you heard Tenzin’s wife seemed nice but..you always held a grudge. 

“Hey guys!” You and Bumi turned to Korra and Asami. “Hey,” you replied happily. “Great decorations Asami!” She grinned, fake fangs glinting in the light. “Thanks! It took so long to get the lights up there.” She gestured to the twinkling yellow, red, and orange lights scattered onto the ceiling of the ballroom.

“You look great!” You grinned, “Thanks Korra! Decided to dig this one up from the good ol’ days.” “Must be why Lin was so grumpy earlier,” Asami piped up, a knowing smirk on her face. You chuckled. “Seems I’ve lost her. She’ll find me eventually.” The three of you chatted a bit more before Asami and Korra excused themselves. Asami’s dress trailed elegantly behind her and an elegant arm around Korra’s shoulders. They both looked hot tonight.

“When do you think the two of them will get together,” Bumi asked. “Twenty bucks says in a week.” Bumi grinned, taking your outstretched hand and shaking it. “Deal.”

As Bumi rambled on about something, you could feel the eyes staring in your back. Tingles traveled down your spine and your blood ran cold. The idea of someone watching you made you nervous. You glanced around, but there was no face in the crowd.

It’s fine, just being paranoid, you thought as you tuned into the conversation. You had turn a second too early, for most of the crowd dispersed from the floor, revealing a cat ready to pounce.

****

Lin watched your hips swing around on the dance floor. The bunny suit made your ass swell even more. Spirits, how she missed this outfit. You didn’t notice her hungry stare as she observed from afar. 

You looked so happy dancing the night away. Lin had stalked you like a cat watching its pray as the night became older. You were always a social butterfly and loved sweeping the crowed off its feet. Anyone in your eyes deserved a chance to have fun despite Lin’s grumbling when the two of you went out. Still, it surprised her that you were friends with Tenzin’s oaf of a brother. But you were kind and caring, even if you were naive. 

Lin chuckled darkly as she weaved her way through people’s sweating bodies. The grime between people and their dancing was disgusting, but she shook it off. Her mission was getting to you.

You were a few yards away from Lin. Her footsteps became slower and more calculated the closer she got. Your back was turned to her as you moved to the music. Lin loved how vulnerable you were. So unaware and carefree. At first glance you seemed innocent and sweet, but Lin knew better. No, you were naughty to the bone.

As you were about to turn around, Lin pounced. Her arms wrapped around the front your body, chest pressing up against your back. You squeaked, much to Lin’s delight. Her dark red lips pressed gently against the shell of your ear. You shivered, trying to wiggle out of her grip. Lin’s arms tightened around you as a warning, trapping you against her.

You shivered as her dark chuckle sent goosebumps down your bare spine. “Ah ah ah,” Lin tutted, pressing you even closer. Her armor was cold and the metal dug into your back. “Seems like I’ve caught me a little rabbit.”

Your cheeks flushed red and you let out a whine. Lin laughed; its dark tone made you excited and nervous. Her lips kissed your ear gently. She trailed her lips down from your jaw to your neck. You shivered again making Lin hum. She nuzzled into your neck and inhaled. “Cotton candy hm? How fitting.” You swallowed thickly, eyes darting to the crowd. No one seemed to be paying attention to the two of you. That was good.

Lin followed your gaze. “Think they’re watching? Seeing what a slutty bunny you are? Maybe they should watch us, so they know what happens to whores prancing around waiting to be bent over. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You muffled a soft whimper and clamped your thighs together. Lin chuckled and kissed the side of your neck gently. She barely even started and you were already so needy.

“Too bad I don’t like to share what’s mine,” she whispered softly into your ear. Her words swept across your skin making you tremble. Lin’s fingers traveled up your chest and to the pink choker around you neck. The lace was delicate and soft in her fingers as she tugged on it softly. The bell jingled loud enough for the two of you to hear over the music. “Fuck,” she cursed softly, “What I’d give to fuck you with that collar on.”

“L-Lin,” you whimpered, face burning with shame. Lin smirked, letting the collar go. Your lips pulled into a pout as her arms let go of you. “Meet me in the closet in the main hallway. First one to the left. Five minutes. Or else.” She smacked your ass making you squeak. It stung only a little but still hard enough to where you rubbed it gently. “In a second I just gotta-” You turned around to see her. She was gone.

****

You tore through the floor quickly, running through the crowds. Damn these heels! Were you desperate? Maybe to other people but dammit you wanted to get fucked so hard in this suit!

Your heels clacked onto the tile floor. “Hey Y/N!” ‘God fucking-’ “Yes,” you gritted out, turning to find Asami. “Going somewhere?” You hated the smirk and the knowing twinkle in her eye. She held in a laugh at the dark lipstick marks on your neck. “Just gotta pee,” you lied, turning to bolt like your life depended on it. “Don’t let me stop you,” Asami said winking. You grumbled, cheeks flaming with shame as you hurried to the closet.

****

You almost cried with joy as you faced the closet door. You had gotten there just in the nick of time. Asami had almost put your life on the line but you made it. You glanced around quickly to make sure no other party goers were watching. ‘Coast’s clear’. As you opened the door, a hand reached out and yanked you in there.

You yelped as your back was shoved into the wall. A hand clamped over your mouth tightly. The door closed with a soft thud. The sound of the lock turning made you tingle with excitement. “Shhh,” Lin cooed, fingers slowly trailing up to your chest. “Don’t want anyone to find us hm?” You whimpered as her fingers lightly rubbed over your nipples. The sensation was muffled from the silk bunny suit covering them.

You tried tugging the suit down to let your chest free, but a hand smacked you. You grumbled, rubbing the top of your hand softly. “Keep it on.” “Yes mommy,” you whined. “Good bunny,” Lin cooed softly. She smirked as she felt you tremble underneath her. 

Lin kissed your jaw softly. You let out a sigh, wrapping your hands around her shoulders. Her soft lips trailed down your neck with kisses and bites. Once Lin got to the side that drove you wild she started sucking. “Mmm~,” you moaned softly as she sucked purple hickeys into your skin. Lin’s left thumb pressed lightly against your nipple. The silky fabric sent tingles down your spine. Her other hand cupped your jaw lightly. She suckled lightly under your jaw, knowing that place drove you wild. You moaned softly as her thumb rubbed your nipple harder.

 Her lips pulled away from your neck. You grumbled, making Lin snort. “Suck,” she commanded, swiping her right thumb over your pink glossy lips.

Immediately, you took the finger in her mouth. Lin hummed as your tongue swirled around her it. Your warm and wet lips wrapped around her thumb, coating it in spit. You nibbled on the tip of her thumb gently, smearing her finger with pink gloss. She always went wild seeing your mouth a mess after choking or slobbering all over whatever she gave you.

Lin pulled away. The sound making a wet pop. You whined pathetically. “Be a good bunny and take what I give you. Don’t want to be punished do you?” “No mommy, I’ll be good I promise.” “Good rabbit,” Lin purred, pinching your nipple lightly as a reward. Your brain felt hazy and dizzy already. The closet was pitch black and you wished you could see her. You were afraid of the dark, but with Lin kissing and sucking in all the right places, she was the only thing you could focus on.

Her lips smashed against yours and she nibbled on your bottom lip. You bit her lip playfully and refused to open them in retaliation. She growled against your mouth, fingers inching up to your chest. You mewled as they pinched and rubbed your left nipple over the silk. It felt so smooth and cool over your chest. Lin slipped her tongue through your lips. She stroked her tongue along the roof of your mouth, and you moaned whenever she finally sucked on yours. The feeling of her red lipstick mixing with your gloss made you cringe. Lin grinned wickedly against your lips. She always loved to make you messy and needy.

 Your knees held your trembling legs up. They quivered and you felt weak pinned to the wall, feeling dizzy. “Lin,” you whimpered, pulling away from her lips. “I’m gonna fall.” 

Lin chuckled. “Can’t have that can we?” The sound of her metal armor shifting rang in your ears. In the distance the music could be heard along with some outside chatter.

You whined as her knee slid between your legs, thigh jutting against your crotch. Your body became hot and prickly as her thigh brushed up against you. “What did I say about keeping quiet? If you keep moaning like a whore, I’ll fuck you in this closet for everyone to hear what happens to a needy slut,” Lin hissed.

Her right hand cupped your throat, fingers splayed gently on the sides of it. Your heart thumped in your chest with anticipation. 

You squeaked as a harsh slap came down onto your thigh. “I asked you a question, bitch. Answer me.” “Sorry,” you whined, “I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet!” Lin smirked, satisfied with your answer. “Good. Now grind on my thigh and cum like the good whore you are. If you do, I might consider fucking you silly with my strap tonight.”

Lin laughed once you jumped down on her thigh with eagerness. You bit your lip harshly and focused on your breathing as you shifted slowly. A small amount of relief poured through your body. “Keep going,” she commanded, left hand ghosting over your chest again. 

Eventually, you got a good rhythm down. Your rocked your hips and rubbed your crotch down on Lin’s thigh. “Mmm~,” you moaned softly, trying so hard to keep quiet. Lin smirked, her fingers squeezing the sides of your throat gently. Blood rushed to your head as you focused on breathing. The high from grinding on Lin’s thigh, and the pleasure combined with her hand wrapped around your throat felt so good.

“What I’d give to see that stupid look on your face. You’ve just barely started and I’ve already got you turning into a dumb fucking bunny.” Whimpering, you grinded down faster. Your hips were already getting tired and your legs began to ache.

Lin’s hand suddenly let go of your throat. The rush of air that knocked into your chest made you choke. She snickered. “Good little rabbit,” she cooed. Lin leaned her head down. Her lips wrapped around your covered nipple and sucked. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you whimpered. Her tongue felt so good over the satin and the way your hips rocked against her thigh made your core sing.

The closet was getting hotter and stuffier. The bell on your choker rang every time you straddled Lin’s thigh and used it to get off. Your cheeks were hot along with your arms and collarbone. There was sweat beading on your head, threatening to roll off of your brow.

 “Mommy,” you moaned softly. She hummed in reply, the vibrations on your nipple causing you to squeak. Her right hand slowly tugged down the bunny suit, revealing your chest bare and free.

You whimpered as the air hit your bare chest. Lin kissed your left nipple. Without the fabric covering it, the sensations were more powerful. Her lips wrapped around it softly and sucked gently. You whined and grinded harder. Your legs and knees burned so bad but you didn’t want to stop. You wanted to cum on your girlfriend’s thigh and let the whole world know who you belonged to.

The closet became more stuffy the longer the two of you were locked in here. It made you try harder and harder to get your release. Lin’s fingers gently swept over your right one. She rolled the soft bud between the pads of her fingers. Your brain turned into mush and your pleading became a mantra of Lin’s name. Your stomach curled with heat and your core burned with pleasure.

Lin’s lips kissed your chest as her finger’s worked your nipples. They were sore and ached from the sensitivity of being sucked on so harshly. Lin kissed between your chest before sucking the skin there. You groaned as the delicious pleasure buzzed through you. Her lips trailed all over your chest leaving hickies in their wake. Lin pulled away, fingers gently rubbing your nipples again. It made you hiss from how much it ached but Lin didn’t stop. “Are you gonna cum?” “Yessss,” you whined, crotch rubbing against her leg harshly. “Good. Cum on my thigh like the naughty bunny you are.”

Lin smashed her lips against yours to muffle your cries. You trembled as you came, body trembling and shaking against the wall. She smirked against your lips at the sound of the bell on your choker ringing loudly.

Lin held you up with her hands around your waist and gently removed her thigh between your legs. She kissed your forehead softly murmuring sweet things. “You did so well for me,” she praised, kissing all over your sweaty face and hot cheeks. “Can you stand?” 

“I think so.” She let go of you slowly, but her hands hovered around you in case you started to fall. Your knees trembled but you could stand even if it was a bit wobbly. “Yea, I can stand.” Lin smiled, pulling the string on the ceiling. You hissed softly as the closet light burned your eyes. 

“You look so sexy messed up like that,” Lin sighed, taking in your tossled hair and messed up lip gloss. You looked at her confused as she handed you her coat. She laughed, “Wear it. Unless you want someone to see my claim on you.” You sputtered, throwing on her jacket and zipping it up. It reached your knees and it would shield you from the cold air outside. Lin chuckled and sent you one last wink before slipping out of the closet. You waited a few more moments before running after her.

****

Asami, Bolin, Mako, and Korra, watched you zoom by them, yelling a quick “Bye guys!” over your shoulder.

“What’s her deal,” Mako asked brows furrowing deeply. Bolin refused to look up from anywhere but his drink and muttered a “I don’t know.” “It looks like they got attacked by a monster,” Korra said, her voice confused but mostly concerned. Asami grinned. She had gotten a good look at the dark red lipstick smeared all over your lips before you ran out. “Oh they were attacked by a monster alright. Quite a grumpy one.” 

Three heads turned to her with quizzical looks on their face. “What are you talking about?!” Asami snickered, sipping her wine. “Doesn’t matter,” she replied cryptically, “I have more people to host to.” Asami winked before turning away from them and left. The train of her black lace dress swept behind her as Korra and Mako watched her disappear into the crowd, very confused.

[anarchist-puppet-on-strings]

Long Distance Calls

SUMMARY: Marvin is on a tour and Jackie misses his datemate.

Jackie bounced his leg up and down impatiently as the white dots on screen grew and shrunk. He’s excited: he hasn’t seen Marvin in a few days and that was via laptop. He wished he could see him in person but he was in New York currently.

The dots continued to appear and disappear, only increasing his anticipation. It always took the other a bit to answer, so he wasn’t too worried.

Then the call connected and he was met with Marv’s face. The first thing he noticed was the other wasn’t wearing his signature mask. The second being he’s frowning gently though that wasn’t too uncommon.

Jackie couldn’t help but grin at the sight of him. He misses him so much. “Hey!”

His frown melted away, the tired look in his eyes turning into something gentler. “Hi, Jay!”

“How’re ya doing?”

“Same old, same old. I’m a bit tired from the latest show, but otherwise fine.”

“How’d the show go?” The hero asked. Hearing the other talk about his shows was always something Jackie enjoyed. Marvin just lit up.

“Great! I was a bit worried feeling in the neutral zone for a show again but I think the braid and glitter threw people off!” He They said, sounding genuinely excited, digging through their bag and pulling out a pack of wet wipes.

He couldn’t help but smile softly at them. Silence took over their conversation.

"So... how's New York?" Jackie asked, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve.

Marvin hummed distractedly, wiping the makeup off their face. Their scars were visible now. "Okay, I guess. It's certainly a lot bigger than home. It's quite pretty at night I suppose. There's just... a lot more people than I'm used to."

Instead of pointing out how they called Kalifall their home, Jackie scrunched his brows together. "Oh, well... did ya like performing there?"

The magician shrugged, the dirty wipe in their hand going up in cyan flames. "Sort of. People are quite rude but there was a much larger audience than I thought, so that was nice."

The hero hummed, burrowing further into his dragon onesie. He normally only wore it when Marv is gone. It’s red and has black horns and wings and a cute face on the hood. He had jokingly bought it when Marv picked out a sparkly unicorn onesie. He never expected to seriously wear it but here he was.

“Has anything happened while I’ve been gone?” They asked, undoing their black tuxedo.

The sight of the sheer amount of glitter dusting it made Jackie cringe at the thought of getting it cleaned. On the other hand, their brown, green, and silver hair is still full of pink glitter. He thinks it's cute. He had to shake his head and actively focus on the question.

“Nah, not much really. The Puppets vandalized some stuff and ended up stabbing someone, but otherwise nothing else has happened.”

“That's good. Well, not the stabbing but-”

Jackie chuckled, chin propped up on his hand. “I know what ya mean, Mar, don't getcha panties inna twist.”

Marvin huffed, pulling their dress shirt over their head and tugging their pants off. They pulled on a mint spaghetti strap tank top and some neon orange shorts on.

“You doing alright?” Marvin asked suddenly, startling Jackie.

He knew what they meant. They both were aware of the fact that he didn't do very well alone. It made him more reckless and less upbeat.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I jus’ miss you is all.”

“Well-” Marvin said, pulling their ponytail out and running their fingers through their hair, shaking some glitter out-”I’m heading back home tomorrow.”

Jackie couldn't help but perk up at the reminder. Marvin had been gone over five weeks, and the apartment is much emptier without them—now that Jackie actually knew what it’s like having someone else besides him living in the apartment.

“Thank christ, takin care of your lil hellspawns is exhausting,” Jackie laughed.

“They're angels!” They argued, settling back down into the hotel bed.

Jackie narrowed his eyes. “One of them fucking bit me!’

“You were handling them wrong then!”

“I beg to differ.”

Their eyes were cold. “Then beg.”

They dissolved into a fit of chuckles and giggles before they tapered off into a comfortable silence.

“Hey, what time is it for you?” Marvin asked.

Jackie debated about lying but the other could just look it up anyway. “Around 3 am.”

“Seriously, Jay? Don't you have patrol?”

He grinned. “I went out a lil earlier so I could talk with you!” The way the other's face softened made his cheeks warm.

“Okay, well, it's still 3 am. And you should be sleeping. Even firecrackers need a break.”

He yawned, feeling too tired to point out that firecrackers kept going until they died once the fuse was lit. “Okay, okay,” he relented, leaning back against the wall while shifting the laptop in his lap. He raised an eyebrow seeing Marvin settle further back onto the bed.

“Not gonna wash the glitter outta your hair?”

They huffed tiredly, rolling their eyes. “Nah, too tired to deal with that. Don’t think the drain would like so much glitter being forced down its throat.”

Jackie chuckled before yawning again, humming contentedly when his jaw cracked. “Well, I don’t think housekeeping is gonna be happy with ya.”

Marvin laughed and the sound made Jackie’s heart melt. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“You don’t think about a lot of things.”

“Hey, fuck off!”

He smiled, eyes drooping as he yawned yet again.

“Seriously: sleep, you dork.”

He whined, “I dun wanna! That means we have to hang up!”

Marvin shot him a sideways look as they yanked a charger out of their suitcase and hooked it up to their laptop. They smiled impishly. “Who said anything like that?” Setting the device on the nightstand, they rolled over and rested their head on their arm. They stared at Jackie with half lidded dark blue eyes hidden behind long lashes. “Now sleep.”

He groaned, shoving several things off his nightstand and onto the floor to make room for his computer. Marvin raised an eyebrow and gave him a deadpan stare.

“Oops?” He tried sheepishly.

They sighed, letting their eyes fall shut. “Goodnight, Jay,” they mumbled.

“Night...” he whispered back, scooching under the covers and rolling to face the camera.

While Marvin fell asleep rather quickly, getting comfortable is easier said than done. Jackie’s heart hurt at the separation and the bed felt unnaturally empty and cold. The only thing that made it hurt a little less was watching his partner sleep. The deep breaths the other drew in and the slow exhales helped him loosen up.

Although Jackie stayed up later than Marvin, he ended up falling asleep a while later, his soul longing for his partner on another continent.

(A/N) I’ve held on this story for so long because I kept making edits and it still never felt right??? Still doesn’t but I’m posting anyways!!! It’s been in my docs for weeks!!!

Tag list: @assbutt-of-the-readers, @stuck-in-a-l-o-o-p, @bloodsoakedheretic

[pickalilywrites]

Zeketra (is that the ship name :-/) where Petra and Zeke are on a blind date. You're the best writer1

You’re the best! And, yes, that’s what @clio-moria and I use as the ship name ^^

Blind Date

Zeketra. Modern AU.

3150 words. 

Petra waits impatiently at the bar, smiling quickly and shaking her head when a waiter stops at her table to ask if she’d like a drink while she waits for her date. A part of her hopes he won’t show at all. She’s sure if he did, he’d only turn out to be a serial killer. After all, what kind of man uses a dating app if not to find potential victims? The only reason she agreed to this was because Hanji had practically begged her to, complaining that they had scoured the edges of all the dating apps in existence in order to find her the perfect and this man, Hanji claims, is certainly the one that Petra has been waiting for all her life. Doubtful, but Petra decided that a drink (only one!) wouldn’t hurt and scheduled a short date at a bar close to her apartment. If things went well, perhaps the date would be more than just a drink. If not…she could just down her drink fairly quickly and dash away. The way things are looking, the date seems to be more of the latter because it’s been ten minutes since he was supposed to arrive, and he didn’t have the decency to text her about being late.

She sighs and checks her phone, thinking that the time isn’t going by fast enough. Once fifteen minutes pass, she can return home and just let Hanji know that she’d been stood up and that no date had taken place. She’s fine with being single anyway. She doesn’t understand why Hanji was making such a big deal about this guy.

Truthfully, Petra doesn’t even know what the guy looks like. Hanji had refused to show her a picture and her friend had been the one to coordinate the blind date. Even though Petra had told her that it would be impossible for her to recognize him when he walked into the room, Hanji told her not to worry. She’d certainly know it was him once she saw him.

Petra looks lazily around the room right now, her gaze glossing over every man that appears to be single in the dimly lit bar. Really, it could be anyone because Hanji had given her absolutely no hint at all about who it could be. It could be the slightly balding man in the corner who’s drinking his third glass of beer, face red and glowing from all the alcohol. It could be the young man who looks nervously about him like he’s not supposed to be here. Petra suspects that it’s either his first time in a bar or he’s snuck in here using a fake ID. Perhaps both. Maybe it’s even the dark stranger with the sour expression sitting at the counter and complaining about his day with the bartender. Or, Petra thinks, that dashing man who had just walked in, his blond hair grown out so that it frames his chiseled face. He even has a well-grown beard and a decent mustache, two things that Petra had never thought of as attractive until now, that make him look like he could be a young Greek god. Ah, but it’s not as if Hanji would ever hook her up with someone that looked as perfect as that.

She looks down at her table again, frowning at her expression reflected in the table’s surface. She traces a finger around a stain, wondering when the last time anyone had wiped it down.

If there was someone Hanji had set her up with, it would probably be someone who looked rather ordinary, right? A guy who looked too good was bound to fool around sooner or later, but Hanji would never accept anyone who looked less than acceptable. Not that Petra knows what Hanji’s idea of acceptable is. Ah, but a guy like the one who had just walked in is impossible, Petra thinks. She laughs to herself, but when she looks up, she’s startled to find that very man standing in front of her.

“Miss Ral?” he asks with a polite smile on his face. She didn’t think it was possible, but he looks even better up close. His blond hair falls in such perfect waves, his eyes a gorgeous green that Petra didn’t know existed, and he stands so tall before her that she’s sure that he’s not human at all. He must be a statue chiseled from the gods come to life. How is it that her name is the one that comes from his lips? “You are Petra Ral, correct? I’m Zeke Jaeger. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting very long.”

She had intended to be indifferent when her date finally arrived and apologized for making her wait so long, but she can only mumble that it’s fine and that she herself had only just got here even though that’s a lie.

“That’s good to hear, although I’d feel better if you allowed me to get you a drink as an apology,” he says to her. She wishes he’d stop smiling at her. She might faint if he doesn’t. Really, it should be a crime that someone as beautiful as he exists. “Is there something in particular you’d like?”

She’s not sure what she tells him to get her, but she must have told him something because he gives her another charming smile before disappearing to the bar to retrieve their orders. Once he’s gone, she whips out her phone to text Hanji.

Hanji, what the fuck? This guy isn’t real. She receives a text from her friend almost immediately.

What??? Did he catfish me? And I thought I was so careful too! I’m sorry, Petra baby ☹

Petra sighs, running a hand through her hair and then regretting it immediately because it would only make it look messier and she had already put minimal effort into preparing for this date. She wishes she had put on a nicer dress at least and worked a little bit more on her makeup. Zeke probably regrets ever agreeing to meet her in the first place.

No, I mean he just looks too good to be true. He looks like he stepped out of a men’s fashion magazine.

Ohhh. Here, Hanji inserts a winky face with a heart. Only the best for you, Petra! And if you think he’s impressive now, you should see him without a shirt. Although maybe you will tonight…

Petra rolls her eyes thinking that Hanji is being ridiculous, but she receives a picture of Zeke on her phone and her jaw nearly drops to the floor.

She’s seen pictures of photogenic people before, but none of them hold a candle to Zeke Jaeger especially when he’s standing on the beach hardly looking at the camera. The sun sets in the background, the sky painted a perfect blend of soft pinks and oranges and yellows, and the ocean reflect the warmth of those colors against its cool blue waters. The background, though, as beautiful as it is can’t match the perfection that is Zeke.

He’s reaching up to run a hand through his hair, giving Petra a good view of his perfectly toned chest. The shirt he had worn deprived her of a sight of his impressive abs, glistening from the water he had just emerged from like a child of Aphrodite. Her eyes follow the water dripping down his chest and she bites her lip when she sees the shorts that are slung low on his hips. Good lord, she might actually say yes if he asks her to sleep with him tonight. Heck, she might ask him to sleep with her.

“Your drink, Miss Ral,” Zeke says as he approaches their table with their drinks.

Petra’s so startled that she drops her phone, catching it right before it hits the ground. Hastily, she turns off the screen of her phone and shoves it into her purse so that he can’t see that she’s been ogling half-naked pictures of him. She giggles nervously to show him that everything’s fine, tucking her hair behind her ears as he places her drink in front of her. She tries hard not to stare at him too hard, but she knows that she’ll spend most of the night thinking about the heavenly body hiding beneath his clothing. Goddamn it, Hanji.

“Just letting my friend know that I’m fine,” Petra says with a forced smile. She feels the need to fidget some more, but she doesn’t want to seem any more awkward than she already is so she sits still with her hands folded on the table.

“Ah, yes, Hanji. I hope you didn’t tell them that I came late,” Zeke says. He lifts his drink – a rum and coke – to his lips and takes a slow sip. Somehow, he manages to make even this simple action attractive and Petra finds herself having to look away, her face flushing. “They mentioned that they wouldn’t hesitate to ruin me if I didn’t treat you to a less than perfect evening. I’ve probably ruined that already by not arriving to our date on time.”

“Oh, I only waited for a few minutes,” Petra lies. She can’t understand how a man like this could be apologizing to her. She reaches for her own glass to give herself something to drink (Is this an old-fashioned? She’s not sure) and says, “I’m sure you have your reasons.”

“I do owe you an explanation at least,” Zeke says. “I was helping a woman catch her dog. Its leash snapped, and the silly little thing was running around the park. It took quite a while, but we managed to capture it in the end. The time completely slipped away from me and I had to come later than I wanted to. All disheveled after the chase too. I’m sorry I look like such a mess even though you yourself look so lovely tonight. I assure you that I’m usually very punctual to important dates such as these.”

First of all, she can’t believe that he’s apologizing for how he looks right now because he doesn’t look messy at all to her, his hair just sexily tousled and his button-up unbuttoned in such a way that she can see his perfect collar bones peeking out. Compared to her in a dress she had tossed on lazily with her hair brushed quickly before she ran out the door to meet him, he looks infinitely better. It’s difficult to tell if he’s flattering her to be polite or if he genuinely does think she’s beautiful. Or maybe Hanji paid him. They do have those boyfriends to rent in China. Perhaps they’re making their way over here as well.

Then, of course, there’s the fact that he was only late to their date because he was helping a woman find her dog. It’s probably the only acceptable reason for anyone to be late to anything and Petra can feel her heart melt.

“A dog?” Petra says. “Was it very cute? Oh, I’m so glad you were able to catch it in the end.”

“It was adorable,” Zeke tells her with a grin, “but I wasn’t able to get a picture. I do have pictures of my own dogs if you’d like to see them.”

“You have more than one?”

He slides his phone over to her and shows him his lock screen. There are the dogs he had mentioned – one a gorgeous golden retriever and the other a black Labrador with a sleek and shiny coat. They’re as photogenic as their owner, smiling for the camera like a couple of animal models.

Just when she thought he couldn’t get more perfect he reveals that he has pets. Petra’s honestly afraid that she might find out this is all a dream and that she’s about to wake up soon.

“Do you have any pets of your own?” Zeke asks her.

“Oh no,” Petra laughs. She takes a sip of her drink, thinking that the alcohol might calm her down. She’s surprised by how much it burns down her throat, and she coughs a little bit before answering. “My apartment doesn’t allow for pets although I’d love to keep a dog or a cat sometime.”

“Well, perhaps you can meet mine sometime,” Zeke says.

The more he reveals about himself, the more intriguing she finds him. He has a younger half-brother named Eren and although they have a seven-year age gap between them, they’re quite close. He works as a business analyst at banking company after double majoring in finance and management with a minor in accounting at Sina University. He likes to volunteer at his local library every other week when they hold book sales and borrows books because he already has too many lying around his house to buy any more. He walks his dogs every night and in the mornings on the weekends. He enjoys a drink with his friends every now and again but not all that often.

She thought she would feel dull talking about him in comparison, but he hangs onto her every word and seems genuinely interested in her life. He asks her about what it’s like to work at a publishing house (not very exciting, but at least she now knows everything about supernatural romance novels), her hobbies (reading, watching movies, and baking even though she’s not really good at it), and her favorite places to go when she’s not working (the park because she likes the ambience when she’s going out to read and the mall for the theaters and grabbing a bite to eat afterward, but she purposely forgets to mention the beach because just thinking about it makes her feel like a pervert). It doesn’t take long for her to get used to his gaze and she finds herself being able to converse with him effortlessly without stumbling over herself.

Although she had intended this date to go by much sooner (really, she was planning on just downing her drink in about five minutes if things were going downhill), she sipped her drink slowly and carefully to spend as much time with him as possible. It seems he does the same because it takes quite a bit of time to finish his own drink, only taking sips after she’s finished speaking with him because he wants to give her his full attention when she talks. Still, they finish their drinks too quickly and she regrets not picking a restaurant to dine at.

“How is it that you don’t have a girlfriend yet?” Petra says. The alcohol has loosened her tongue some, allowing her to ask questions she never would otherwise. She swirls the melted ice around in the bottom of her glass, taking a sip and then frowning when she remembers she’s already finished her drink and all that’s left is ice water. “It’s like you walked out of a Jane Austen novel.”

“Ah, Miss Austen,” Zeke says with an affectionate smile on his face. “I’m flattered, but I’m afraid I’m nowhere near as charming as Mr. Darcy or Mr. Knightley.”

No, he’s far more divine than any of those men can be because he’s real and sitting in front of her in flesh and blood whereas those fictional male leads will only be words in a book or (if you’re a fan of the movie adaptations) men on the screen.

“Do you really have such bad luck with dating that you had to resort to a dating app though?” Petra asks curiously. He could have any woman on the street if he really wanted, she’s sure.

“My brother says I’m quite picky,” Zeke says with a sheepish smile that Petra thinks is surprisingly adorable. “He was the one to actually set me up with an online profile and suggested you were perfect with me.”

She makes a mental note to thank his brother if she ever meets him.

“Did you want to come inside?” Petra asks, feeling nervous again. Perhaps it’s too early to ask him to come inside her apartment (she’s not even sure the last time she properly cleaned the place or if she has anything embarrassing lying around), but she doesn’t want this night to end. She curses herself for being so practically cynical. Why couldn’t she just be optimistically romantic for once in her life?

He refuses, of course, and she shouldn’t feel so disappointed, but she does until he clarifies, “Only because I need to go feed my dogs. I thought it would be fine since it seemed we were only to go out for drinks. If I had known we were going out afterward, I would have gotten a sitter.��

“Ah, that’s fine,” Petra says hastily.

“But another time for sure, if you’ll have me,” Zeke says. Could it be that he’s looking at her shyly? Doesn’t he know by now that she could never refuse him? It’d be a sin to turn down a man like him. “Is next week too soon?”

“Of course not,” Petra says, and then she stops breathing completely because she finds his face so close to hers as he leans down, cupping her face delicately in his hands.

“I’ll look forward to it then,” he replies with that same perfect smile before pressing a kiss against her mouth.

She’s so surprised that she stands there in shock for a second before realizing that this isn’t a dream at all, that this night is all somehow magically real, and melts into him. She thinks she’s never been kissed so sweetly before, the taste of lips laced with a bit of bitterness from the rum and coke he had earlier, and likes the way he firmly plants his mouth on hers. She knots a fist into his shirt to bring him closer, kissing him back but hoping that she doesn’t seem too eager. Too quickly he pulls away and she an involuntary sigh escapes her lips once he parts, making him smile.

“Was that too forward of me?” he asks softly. He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “I know we’ve just met, but I couldn’t resist.”

“Not at all,” Petra replies breathlessly. “That was…perfect.”

“Those are my feelings as well,” Zeke says with a grin. He steps away, hands in his pockets. “We’ll go over details when you’re free and hopefully we’ll see each other again soon. It was delightful meeting you, Petra.”

“Likewise,” Petra murmurs.

As soon as he leaves, Petra runs up the stairs to her apartment to text Hanji.

You’ll never guess what happened, she texts.

You naughty girl! Did you sleep with him already? Hanji sends her a string of suggestive emojis and a lot of…eggplant emojis.

Petra rolls her eyes. No, but I did have the most wonderful evening.

She can practically hear Hanji screaming from the other side. So spill!

So she does.

[save-the-spiral]

Headcanons about the schools when feeling betrayed?

(Lots of death. Like, the betrayer got people killed, ruined so much. They deserve this. But yeah, cruel murder with reason! Also some swearing. Hope you enjoy! I had to rewrite the storm and ice parts completely differently because I deleted my progress on accident and got salty, lmao.)

The storm wizard is looking at this traitor, this waste of air, without really seeing them. Nonetheless, they watch the other wizard crumpled on the ground, blubbering and begging like a scared child. The storm wizard’s face is impassive, empty. Thunder booms deafeningly, and lightning strikes. The lightning strikes and smites and the blood on the traitor’s hands will always stain what’s left. What’s left? Well, a memory and a particularly black scorch mark on the cobblestones that will never be cleaned. 

The ice wizard stares at the traitorous wizard before them. They are both standing, but the thaumaturge is the only one of them armed with a wand, even if they won’t use it. Eventually, the back-stabber tries to speak, only to find that their mouth was frozen shut. Their entire body was freezing, their body heat gradually cooling, so slowly that they hadn’t noticed. They could only move their eyes, and how they pleaded. How their eyes made them look even more pitiful than the ice wizard had thought possible. The blank slate of the ice wizard’s face changed. Mischief lit up their eyes. A smirk curled their face, showing the softness of their cheeks where people thought they were all bone and angles. With purpose, the ice wizard strode forward, and placed a hand on the traitor’s chest. The frozen body seemed to fall over in slow motion, then shattered on the ground like glass.

Our fire wizard isn’t one for standoffs, for letting the traitor even try to defend their abhorrent actions. Instant and drastic measures are taken. The fire wizard locks eyes with them, and the pyromancer’s body becomes engulfed in flames, swirling in reds and oranges and pinks and yellows, a sunset of a tornado. The rapidly swirling fire spreads wider and wider, until the entire area is nothing but flames. The fire wizard gabs at the clothing covering their own heart as they fall to their knees in the eye of this disaster, and they are wracked with sobs in the most horrifically beautiful way, their emotions causing the flames to destroy maliciously, vengeance the only thing their fire knows now. 

The death wizard reacts the most terribly. To think, they spent those hours, days, years, agonizing about trusting their life and safety to another person. Then, the one they trust most ruins everything. The traitor smiles expectantly, their expression light as they say this like it was common knowledge. “You’re a necromancer. Shouldn’t death and destruction be, like, your thing?”. But no. no no no no no. Death is about counteracting the too powerful, about bringing the universe to rights. How dare they? How dare the person closest to them smile like that? How dare they presume the death wizard’s intentions based off of the magic they practice? The death wizard’s face contorts into a mocking sneer. With no words, they bring their arms up, their fingers twitching like a puppeteer controlling the strings. An army of the undead claw up, through the ground. They surround the death wizard and the traitor. “Death and destruction, huh?” The necromancer laughs cruelly. They bare their teeth, looking more like the monsters they summon than the wizard they should be. “I’ll show you real death and destruction, asshole.”

The myth wizard is the most in denial. “Y-You wouldn’t!”. Their eyes wide and disbelieving, their hands shaking. Their friend, their most trusted ally, wouldn’t use them like this. Wouldn’t let innocent blood stain both of their hands, until the red would never be washed out of the lines creasing the conjurer’s palms. When their friend laughs, cruel yet still happy somehow, they know the true length of the betrayal they’ve been subjected to. “H-How dare you?!” The myth wizard’s eyes no longer hold that naivete as they once did. “You… You’re a monster.” the conjurer almost whispered, the shaking in their hands returning with a vengeance. This deep upset hurt creeped like a poison through their mind. They raised their weapon, then struck the ground. A large chasm formed, the small cracks that would soon widen racing towards the traitor’s feet. 

The life wizard steps back, falters. Their face falls until they will surely cry. The traitor has the face of a satisfied wildcat who has just made a kill. But the traitor is caught off guard by the theurgist’s tone. “You- You really are a monstrosity of a person, y’know.” The life wizard shakes their head, tutting like a dissapointed nurse, or a dentist who knows that you haven’t been flossing. Something trivial like that. “Now, my question is, why does everyone feel the need to treat me like a child? Like some delicate thing they can take advantage of?” The rhetorical questions fall flat and unanswered as the life wizard advances, looking like a predator that had already cornered their prey. The traitor steps back so quickly they promptly fall on their ass. The laugh the life wizard lets loose is nowhere near their soft chuckles, not even in the same area code as the giggles that take them over when their particularly excited. This laugh is mocking, like a teacher who always picks on that one student that is just annoying. “Just because I don’t usually attack doesn’t mean I’m some helpless infant.” Cards are summoned into the life wizard’s hand, fanning out to show the life symbols on the back, vibrant green on the typical brown of a spell card. They pick a card, grinning. Then they cast it and the world goes green green green green. Then black.

The balance wizard jabbed their wand in the direction of the traitor. making them stand, unable to move at all. The balance wizard places their weapon gently on the ground, and approached the back-stabber. “Y’know, in Krokotopia, there are tales of the afterlife only being available after a passed test.” The sorcerer walks slowly around the prone body of the traitor, circling and staring with the keen eyes of a hawk, an eagle. “You see, they take your heart, and they weigh it on these scales, comparing it to a feather of pure white. A feather of truth. If your heart is too heavy, too burdened by the sins that cling to you like the tendrils of the darkest monsters, then your heart sinks.” They stop in front of the betrayer, staring them in the eyes. “And if your heart sinks, they feed it to a monster. And you cease to exist. Game over.” The weapon was summoned back into the sorcerer’s hand, gently prodding at the underside of the traitor’s chin, making their head tilt up. Their eyes meet again, and the traitor suddenly realizes the truest extent of their actions. They feel remorse and guilt and pain and if they could take it all back they would. The balance wizard only smiles slightly, as if thinking of a funny joke. “I wonder if you would pass the test?” And, like an hourglass flipped over, sand seemed to be pouring from the body of the traitor, until there is nothing left but small tan crystals stuck between the stones of the cobbled street. 

[jaroslavlewis]

30 Kisses: Heiji and Kazuha- Clouds and Sun Ray

30 Kisses: Heiji and Kazuha

First Kiss: Clouds and Sun Ray

Author: Jaroslav Lewis

Fandom: Detective Conan

Theme: #11-gardenia

Summary: It was a day that could've been. She is nothing but a wishful thinking, the most painful 'what if' in their life.

Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan or any of Gosho Aoyama's characters. I simply kidnap them when I'm bored and make them binge watch K-dramas with me. Don't worry I make popcorn for them too.

It wouldn't change anything but he did it anyway. It took him a lot of pondering. He didn't want to hurt her by commemorating the day itself. It would only bring up hurtful memories but he figured he couldn't just forget it, even if it did hurt her and even if it did hurt him as well.

It was a day that could have been. It was a day that they patiently and excitedly waited for but never came. It was probably stupid, but he thought it was all the more reason for him to remember that day because it was the least he could do to make up for what he did. She was nothing but a memory short lived, a wishful thinking, their most painful what if.

And so, the first thing he thought of and did that morning was rush to the nearest flower shop to buy gardenias. He picked the white ones because for a very cliché' reason they reminded him of purity and heaven, something he felt that he would easily associate with her. He never got to know her long enough to find more things to associate with her, but he felt it. It was his instinct. He was after all, a part of her just as she could have been a part of his.

He watched the florist arrange the flowers into a nice bouquet and bitterly thought that if that day could have gone as planned, the flowers could have been fancier and would be later sitting on a side table next to a hospital bed where the knocked out, Hattori Kazuha would be resting. But instead, it would later be placed in an empty room, still on a side table but next to a crib without a baby.

He could remember the look on his wife's face when she told him about her. The image of her bright light green eyes and excited but slightly worried smile was painted in his mind, deep within his memory.

It was a Friday night when she told him. He came home from work after solving a nerve-wracking case, one of which, coincidentally, involved the life of child, a little girl of age three named Aya-chan.

It was a mere kidnapping case. He was able to solve it right on time to rescue the young hostage, but it was one of those cases that tested not only his mind as a detective, but also his instinct as a potential parent. Hattori Heiji had been in the crime-solving industry long enough to see the bad and the ugly, the impossible, the unbelievable and the most monstrous kinds of crime man could ever do to their fellow. But one thing he couldn't stand were cases that involved children, especially when their lives are in danger. Other than the fact that the life of an innocent at stake brought more pressure on him as a detective, Heiji hated that criminals could be so cold-hearted to involve young minds in their dirty business.

On the way home, he wondered how he might have felt if it were his kid that was in danger. He knew he'd lose his mind if it happened to him. He could remember the helplessness in Aya-chan's father's face when he begged him to save her. It was an image he could never shrug off of his head.

His mind was still on the case when he entered his residence. It was only when she showed up to greet him that he snapped out from his thoughts. It was her usual greeting that he always looked forward to, after a day's work.

She'd always rush to his arms as soon as she hears him by the door. She'd wrap her arms around his neck and look up at him with a beautiful smile on her face, a smile that would always tell him that she was excited to see him and that she missed him even if it had only been just a few hours that passed that she had not seen him. It was pretty silly since they saw each other every day and they have been together since childhood but he knew, he'd never get tired of her and the familiarity of her that had always felt like home.

"Tough case? She asked, as if reading his mind and he simply nodded as he took off his shoes, placing them on the rack. He then, took off his coat, hanging it by a coat rack just by where he placed his shoes.

"Well, then maybe I have somethin' that would cheer ya' up." She said, excitedly dragging him all the way to their kitchen. He loosened his tie and smiled to himself as he let her drag him.

He was surprised when he found the dining table all set in a fancy way. There were beautifully folded table napkins for the two of them and lighted scented candles as a centerpiece. She even prepared a nice dinner for that night. He had to admit he was pretty impressed with how she managed to do all the work. Kazuha after all, works in the intel division of the Osaka Prefecture Police Department, under her father, Police Chief Criminal Investigator Toyama Ginshiro. Though she didn't get involved much in cases, her work was pretty toxic too. It amazed him how easily she could multitask from being a career woman to being an all-around wife. He also couldn't help but get a little worried at the thought that he might have forgotten about a special occasion. He knew their anniversary wasn't until a few months. It wasn't her birthday. It wasn't his either. Besides, who the hell forgets about their own birthday. Hmmm Kudo of course but he was in no way like him. Well, he was in other ways a lot like him but he certainly wasn't the type to forget his own birthday.

"What's the occasion?" He asked, slightly hoping that the innocent question wouldn't cause her to be angry.

"Oh, nothin'. I just figured, I wanted to do a little somethin'." She simply answered. Although, he could easily read that something was up. He noticed how awfully giddy she was, not to mention the slight flush on her cheeks and the big smile on her face.

"Really?" He asked again, taunting her as he raised an eyebrow. Kazuha giggled adorably as she reached for the bottle of wine and poured an amount to both of their glasses.

"Sometimes I hate the fact that you're an incredibly smart detective." She said, finally giving up as she saw no reason to delay an important announcement. Heiji couldn't help but grin at her little compliment. She actually called him a smart detective. Yep, something was definitely up.

She stood from her seat to approach the refrigerator and take out a box of cake. Heiji immediately noted that she chose his favorite shop after seeing the familiar packaging.

"I was saving the news for dessert, but you read me easily so I figured, what the hell." She said as she placed the box in front of him. "First close your eyes."

"Is it really necessary?" He tried to protest being the stubborn man that he is.

"Oh, just do it and don't spoil the surprise. I'm trying to be romantic here." She scolded and he finally did as he was told. On cue, she opened the box and lit some candles to put on the cake and once she was done she asked him to open his eyes for the surprise in his life.

In front of him was a white-frosted cake with a sparkling candle and a fondant baby cradle on top. Written on it were the words "Congratulations, Daddy Heiji!" in orange and green icing. Heiji was speechless for a moment. He choked a half-sob, half laugh and he turned to her for confirmation.

"I'm a… I'm gonna be a..." He said still in shock and a bit confused but very much happy. Kazuha smiled at him and waited for him to process the news.

"Wait so you're…" He added as he looked from her then down to her belly and then back at her smiling face again. She nodded as she showed him a stick. It had two red lines and he knew it could only mean one thing. He said no more and he stood up to hug her. Tears of joy fell from her eyes as she hugged him back and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I can't believe it. I'm going to be a dad." And he finally said it. He felt stupid for not noticing. For the past few weeks Kazuha had been showing some obvious symptoms. First, her monthly "visitor" failed to "pay a visit" and then there was the morning sickness. Despite having a keen eye for details he never saw it coming, but nevertheless he was glad.

"I'm gonna be a dad…" He repeated making Kazuha laugh. "And you're going to be a mom… And I love you so much…"

"I love you too, Heiji…"

It had only been 8 weeks of pregnancy but the couple had already decided to decorate the baby's room as early as possible. Being the excited parents that they were Heiji and Kazuha had already bought the essentials. The crib was already delivered and had been sitting unassembled, inside a box in their room. It was the weekend and Heiji impulsively decided that it would be a good time to get started on the decorating. Kazuha didn't have the heart to disagree. Though it seemed a little too early, she was psyched about the idea and went on with his plan. The two had a hard time deciding what color would be good for the room, especially since they still had no idea about what the baby's gender would be. In the end they went with pastel green and orange since it was their favorite colors. The two also decided that colors were after all, just colors and that they wanted to raise their kid in an environment where things weren't sort out and stereotyped based on gender. It had them thinking, why did colors have to be categorized anyway? Who the hell came up with green and blue being a boy's color and pink and orange being a girl's color? What's with that bs?

In just a few hours the room was fully painted and Heiji came out of the baby's room with paint stains all over his clothes. Kazuha on the other hand, was left waiting in their own room until the paint dries and until the paint smell was out. Despite her protests, Heiji managed to keep her out of the paint. He didn't want her to absorb the strong chemicals that could be harmful for her and for the baby. Right after the paint had dried, Heiji decided to assemble the crib. When the paint smell was gone, He allowed Kazuha to see the room and add some finishing touches.

Using friendly toxic-free, poster paint, Kazuha painted little details on the wall, an abstract tree right on one of the corners of the room, where the crib would be placed. She also drew a cute squirrel peaking from one of the branches of the tree. She put drew some flowers with intricate details. Heiji was amazed. Kazuha had always been very artistic.

When they were done with the room, they took a few moments to stay in it and appreciate their team effort.

"I bet the baby would like this room a lot." Heiji said, innocently making Kazuha laugh.

"I doubt that the baby would even be old enough to remember how this room would look like." Kazuha pointed out.

"But still. It's a nice room. I bet the baby wouldn't have to worry about monsters under the crib or inside the baby closet or elsewhere…"

Five months and after frequent visits to the doctor, Heiji and Kazuha had found out that they were going to have a baby girl. The two sat on their living room couch sprawled together while looking through Heiji's Ellery Queen books for some odd reason that Kazuha requested him to read one of them to her or to the baby, rather.

"I thought this stuff bores you." Heiji said as he settled the book to the side and scooted closer to his wife holding her against him as they both tried to fit in one small blanket together.

"Well, it still does, but I figured it would be good for the baby. I read in one book that reading is a great way to connect with the baby. Also, I want our baby to be able to recognize your voice so I want you to read to her." She explained sheepishly. "Other than that, I kind of hope that she'd get your intelligence, and your great deductive reasoning skills."

"Really, now?" Heiji chuckled, smiling smuggling to himself, making Kazuha glare playfully at him as she lightly hit his abdomen with her elbow, causing him to yelp.

"Ya' know, even if you're such a detective geek, you're really smart and I want our daughter to be as smart as you are." She admitted as she took one of Heiji's books and leaned closer against him so that she could rest her head on his chest.

"Why'd ya' want her to be as smart as me? You're pretty smart yourself too. Ya' had good grades in Kaiho. Ya' even graduated with honors in college while juggling it with your extra-curricular activities." Heiji opposed.

"Well, still… I'm not a genius, like you are. Besides, I was only a diligent student. You on the other hand, have an eidetic memory. You could ace any test without having to spend too much time studying." Kazuha reasoned, pouting childishly.

"Well, being diligent still beats being smart." Heiji chuckled as he gave her a pat on the head. "Say, you think if she'd have my eidetic memory and your good studying habits she'd beat every kid in school?"

"Maybe. Let's hope she gets our best features."Kazuha said optimistically as she gazed at her protruding belly.

"Yeah. Then she'd have your eyes and she'd look just like you…" Heiji sighed, daydreamingly. "And I wouldn't be able to say no to her. I'd spoil her a lot, I bet…"

"Excuse me, what would you like to put in the card?" The florist asked as she leaned on the counter with a pen on her hand and a plain yellow gift card on the other. Heiji immediately snapped out of his thoughts to turn his attention to her.

"Oh… Please write down, 'For Hattori Elle,'" He requested, letting her name linger for a while as he watched the florist scribble down an impressive calligraphy writing on the card. He figured the name had such a good ring to it. It felt so warm saying it and it stung his heart that he'd never get to go around saying her name more often.

"Is that all?" The florist asked, tapping the pen as she waited for Heiji to continue his message on the card. Heiji paused for a while before he found the right words.

"Our ray of sunshine..."

He and Kazuha decided to name her Elle, after Heiji's favorite mystery novelist, Ellery Queen. Kazuha liked the Western ring to it and that the name was less traditional making it somehow unique in Japan. She also looked up the meaning of the name and found out that it meant "sun ray" in Greek origin.

Just like the sun that she is, the sun that she was supposed to be, she brightened their day with her mere existence, with the mere thought that she'd someday be a little ray of sunshine in their life. But the weather was unpredictable. They never anticipated the storm that would come and take her away, filling their life with nothing but dark clouds.

She couldn't understand why but she felt so off since that morning. She wondered if it was just her unstable hormones, being pregnant and all. She had a heavy feeling in her chest. She couldn't explain it but she felt awfully restless.

There was no logical explanation but Kazuha's instincts had become very accurate as the years passed, especially when it came to Heiji's welfare. It was also one of the reasons why her grip on superstitious beliefs was so strong. Kazuha relied on Omamori so much that she made a matching pair for her and Heiji. And though many have thought of the gesture as silly and cheesy (as Heiji did in the past), for some great "coincidence" the charm seemed to have protected them from harm several times. Kazuha believed, however that those instances weren't just mere coincidences. The Omamori worked for real. It was proven and tested.

That afternoon, Heiji showed up in her office, as promised that they planned to have lunch together. Their plans however were cancelled, as soon as Heiji received a phone call from his father, Police Superintendent Hattori Heizo, asking him to work on a murder case.

"Gomene, Kazuha. I can't have lunch with you today. Something came up and Oyaji wants me to look into a case." Heiji explained with an apologetic look on his face.

"It's okay… I can just have lunch with Otousan, today or Otaki-han." Kazuha said assuringly, though deep down she felt worried.

"Well, I'll see you later, okay?" Heiji bid, leaning closer to her to give her a good bye kiss. His lips softly brushed against her forehead. When he pulled away, he lingered for a moment. He gently tucked her bangs behind her ear and gave her a smile before he proceeded to walk away.

"Umm, Heiji?" She called albeit hesitating for a few seconds. She searched his emerald orbs with her peridots, worriedly as soon as he stopped on his tracks to turn his attention towards her.

"Ne?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Did you bring your Omamori with you?" She asked and he paused for a moment to think.

"Yeah, I remembered I…" He brought his hand to his neck and collar bone area, where he usually wore it as a necklace, only to find it missing. He searched his pocket to and brought out his phone to see if it was hanging as its accessory, but it wasn't there either. He recalled his actions earlier that morning and it struck him that he had accidentally left it inside Elle's Room, when he went there before he and Kazuha took off to work.

"Oh crap." He cursed. Kazuha's heart beat rapidly against her chest, like she was about to have a panic attack. "Ahhh. I forgot it in Elle's room. I went to look for her sonogram picture so I could place it inside, the Omamori pouch, so it'd have yours and hers in it."

Kazuha felt like strangling him for a moment, only to be awfully touched by his intentions. All of a sudden her frustrations subsided, but the uneasy feeling was still there. She sighed, but decided not to make a big deal about it. Stress was bad for the baby and other than that, she knew that Heiji could be a little absent-minded at times because of work.

Being a detective had a lot of dangers. She witnessed it several times. Trouble and death followed Heiji around like a lost puppy and that was the main reason why she wanted him to have his Omamori AT ALL TIMES.

It stressed her out a lot that of all the times he'd have to forget it, it was on that day when she was feeling unexplainably uneasy. Instinctively, she reached for hers and took it off. She tiptoed to reach up to her husband's tall stature and slid the Omamori necklace to his head down to his neck, where it was supposed to be.

"Hey… Ya don't hafta, Kazuha. I'll be fine. Don't you need this more? After all, I'm leaving you here all alone with the baby and..."

"It's no problem. I'll just be here anyway. Besides, Otousan and Otaki-han's going to be here. We'll be fine, Heiji." She assured him before she tiptoed again to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. "We'll see you later, okay?"

Heiji finished the case just in time for dinner and as soon as he and his colleagues have wrapped up, he went straight to pick up Kazuha. His wife was relieved that he was able to come back without being harmed. She figured she might have been just a little paranoid that day and that there was nothing to worry about at all.

She decided to shrug the thought. There was nothing to be worried about. They were going to be fine. Or so she thought.

It turns out, it was too early for her to let her guard down. Her premonition was right after all…

The couple decided to have dinner at their favorite restaurant that served the best Okonomiyaki in the whole of Japan. On the way there, Heiji noticed a black car trailing them. It had been following them around for some time now. He felt tensed, but he didn't want Kazuha to find out. He didn't want her to panic, especially when she's carrying their baby. His grip on the car's steering wheel tightened, thinking that no matter what happens, he was going to protect his wife and their unborn daughter. He decided to speed up a little, hoping to lose the unknown "stalker" but his car went just as fast as he did.

It didn't take too long for Kazuha to notice that something seemed to be bothering Heiji. She glanced at him for a moment and noticed that his knuckles have gone white from gripping the steering wheel to hard. He also looked pretty tense. Panic started to fill her heart.

"Heiji, don't you think we're going a little too fast?" She asked worriedly. He didn't answer as his attention was towards the rare view mirror and the reflection of the mysterious follower by their tail. Heiji grunted as he went faster to lose the other car, but to no avail. He even noticed that it went past by them and slowed down so that it was just beside their car, right by Kazuha's side to be exact. He looked at the car from his peripheral vision. Its windows were heavily tinted.

"Heiji, what's going on?" Kazuha yelped as he sped on. The other car picked up its pace and went closer to theirs, lightly hitting Kazuha's side. "Heiji!"

Heiji immediately took his gun from their car's glove compartment, one which he is allowed to carry for safety and emergencies. Kazuha shook in fear as she watched Heiji grip the steering wheel with his left and the gun with his right. The driver from the other car had had lowered his window. He glanced at the reckless driver to see his face, but he had a cap, a mask and shades on to conceal his identity. The only thing that he could make out was that the dangerous follower is most likely a man who might have been someone he had angered from his cases. He also saw that the man had already pointed a gun towards them. Whether it was him or Kazuha that he was pointing at, he wasn't sure. Heiji felt his left hand freeze in panic.

For someone who wasn't in his situation, it would be easier to say that to shoot first was safer, but Heiji wasn't confident in his aim, other than that, it's more difficult to shoot someone in a moving vehicle especially when he's also operating a moving vehicle of his own. He could save himself and his wife from being shot, but they could die from a car accident. Also, if he fired and then missed, the guy would fire back and worse he could hit Kazuha and the baby.

He lost it, however when the guy started firing at them. He missed. Heiji started firing back, but kept missing as well. A beeping sound filled his ears as he tried to focused on the road and on the crazy guy who was trying to harm him and his family. He could hear Kazuha's faint screams and crying.

The shooting stopped when the guy hit Heiji's wheel, causing it to burst resulting to Heiji losing control of his own vehicle. Heiji's car, sped up and before he knew it, he was slamming to a post. The criminal sped away as soon as he met his victory.

Minutes later, Heiji was awaken by faint sound of paramedics and police cars. He opened his eyes groggily, recalling the events that had transpired. As his eyes slowly adjusted, he spotted a broken dashboard. The faint smell of gasoline filled his nostrils. He felt slightly numb due to his injuries. His head felt damp as he touched it with his hand. He looked and noticed that his blood gushed from his forehead, an injury he got from the impact which caused him to slam his head on the dashboard. He immediately snapped as soon as he realized that Kazuha was with him, sitting on his passenger's seat. He looked at her and noticed that she wasn't looking so good either and probably did worse. She was still unconscious. She had wounds on her face. There was a lot of blood, mostly in between her legs.

He started to forget that he had injuries of his own. He started to fear the worst thing possible. His heart throbbed rapidly in fear as he slowly took her seatbelt off. He lightly tapped her shoulder, as he tried to wake her, but to no avail.

"Kazuha! Oi. Kazuha. Wake up!" He said, almost shouting in panic.

It wasn't long before the police and the paramedics got them out of their crashed car. Paramedics tried to tend to Heiji's wounds, but he fought back, saying that he had to see Kazuha first. He watched as they put her in a stretcher, inside an ambulance.

He found it hard to process what was happening in his surroundings. The sound of the sirens was deafening. There were police everywhere and some reporters.

"I need to see my wife!" He shouted angrily at the paramedic who was trying to calm him down.

"We are doing the best we can, sir but you have to calm down and get your wounds treated." One of the doctors said.

"You don't understand. My wife is badly injured and she… She's pregnant. Our baby-" He shrugged out of one of the nurses' grip and tried to get away. The paramedics held him down and within seconds, he was out.

"Kazuha… Elle… Kami-san…Onegai…" Were the last words he spoke before he drifted to slumber.

As soon as he got home, he set the flowers in one of Kazuha's favorite vases. He poured a little water in it to keep it fresh and stuck the yellow card on the vase with an adhesive tape. He took a few moments to stare at the gardenias for a while. He briefly glanced at his watch and noticed that it was already in the afternoon. He silently thought to himself that at that hour he could have been watching a tired Kazuha in her sleep. Minutes later he could have been sitting next to her groggy, but already awake self as the nurse puts a tiny bundle of joy in her arms. He could've been gazing at their daughter right now and he could have been holding her after Kazuha has had her turn. He could've but he couldn't.

It was supposed to be Baby Elle's birthday. Except, there was no Baby Elle at least, no more. She is now, nothing more but a wishful thinking, the most painful 'what if' in Heiji and Kazuha's life. He lost her and in some sort of way, he kind of lost Kazuha as well.

Long were the nights he spent blaming himself as he lays down on their bed, with Kazuha's side empty. Long were the nights that he'd spray her perfume on her pillows so that he'd get through the day of missing her so badly. She wouldn't sleep beside him anymore. She preferred being left alone, spending most of her days and nights locked up in Elle's room. She wouldn't even talk to him. He figured, he deserved it. It was his fault that Elle was gone. He couldn't protect her. He couldn't protect Kazuha either.

He snapped from his reverie as soon as he heard her footsteps. He figured, Kazuha had finally decided to go out of Elle's room for a while, but he knew she wouldn't be staying too long. She'd only go out when she'd feel a little hungry or thirsty. Right after she's done, she'd go back and lock herself up again.

She showed up clad in her loose pajamas. Her hair was tied up in a tangled messy bun. Her eyes were blank and puffy and dark circles appeared under them. She had been a totally different person since the incident, very far from the bright and cheerful Kazuha that he once knew.

"Hey…" He said, clearing his throat as he greeted her awkwardly. It felt crazy how suddenly, he felt like he was talking to some stranger, when apparently, she's someone he had known for so many years. After the incident, Heiji could never figure out how to approach her. Other than the fact that guilt held him back, Kazuha had been mentally and emotionally unstable for four months now, since the incident. She felt so fragile and he was afraid that any careless move he'd do would cause her to break.

"Do you want anything? I could fix something up for you." He offered when he got no response from her. He watched as she moved past him to get a glass of water. She wouldn't even look at him. She had been avoiding his existence ever since.

After she drank the whole glass of water in one gulp, she turned to go back to Elle's room, but stopped on her tracks when she noticed the vase of Gardenias on the table, in front of her husband. She paused and stared for a while, but said nothing. Heiji watched her actions and felt a little tense. He froze when she looked at him blankly, as if asking for an explanation but was too numb to care that much.

"I hope you don't mind. It's just that I remembered what today's supposed to be." He spoke softly and somewhat carefully as he tried to avoid her cold gaze.

"It doesn't matter. It doesn't change the fact that she's gone. It's not going to bring her back…" She told him with so much bitterness in her voice as she turned her back to him. Heiji watched her walk away. He stared at the vase of gardenias sitting on the table as he listened to her slam the door. He closed his eyes and sighed.

Heiji woke up to the sterile white of a hospital room. Albeit his headache and recurring numbness on some parts of his body, his mind immediately drifted to his wife as her traumatizing, badly injured image flashed on his mind. His eyes searched the room and found his parents sitting by his bed. His worried mother came to hug him, protectively and his father stood by next to her.

"You're finally awake! Do you want anything? How are you feeling? You had us worried, dear." Shizuka spoke as she gently brushed her son's messy hair.

"Toyama and I are working on the case. We've also had some guys helping out. Your detective friend from Tokyo, Kudo came by too, when you were unconscious. He said he'd look into the case too." Heizo informed calmly, but Heiji didn't seem to be processing what his father had just said. His eyes were blank and he was silent for a while.

"Where's Kazuha?" He asked, feeling tensed. He silently prayed that what he feared the most didn't turn out to be. Shizuka and Heizo were both hesitant to respond for a while. Shizuha gently squeezed her son's hand and gave him a sad smile.

"Heiji, Kazuha-chan's okay. She's still unconscious and resting well in the room right next to you. The doctor said she'll be waking up by tomorrow or maybe in a few hours." She responded. Heiji let out a sigh of relief. He could never forgive himself if something had happened to her. He however knew that it was still too early to be jumping for joy. There was another life he had to worry about. "But Heiji…"

And there was the but...

That "but". The indicator that there was apparently bad news after the good news.

"Heiji… We lost the baby… Kazuha-chan had a miscarriage… I'm so sorry, dear…" Shizuka felt so hurt to break the news to him. She knew how it felt. She was after all, a parent. Heiji was in a state of shock as his mother's words echoed in his head. It took a few seconds to register to him and suddenly he felt his fists roll into a tight ball. And then the tears fell.

And though, Heizo wasn't the type of father to be expressive, he knew at that moment his son needed him. He gave his son a light pat on the back.

"I'm sorry, son." He manage to say, though he couldn't find the right words and he knew no words could make Heiji ever feel better. He had lost his daughter and no apology, no sense of empathy, was ever going to bring that back.

A surge of emotions went through Heiji. He was hurt, he was mourning for his loss and most of all he was angry, with the man who hurt his family but mostly, with himself. He started to punch the bed and the rails by his side, his knuckles went numb and then he started beating himself, crying and screaming. Heizo tried to hold him down and Shizuka wrapped his arms around her son.

"Heiji, please calm down…" Shizuka begged as she hugged him tight. Heizo held his son's bleeding fists. Soon Heiji's crying slowly subsided and he started to calm down.

"I need to see her." He said. His tone was cold and his eyes were blank and lifeless. Shizuka hesitated, but she knew Heiji needed to see his wife. She loosened her hold around him and nodded. She and her husband held their son up and together they went to Kazuha's room and found her sleeping in her bed. The Toyamas were pretty restless too. Shizuka went to hug Kazuha's mother, her longtime friend. As mothers, they both knew the pain. Kazuha carried Elle for 5 months, looking ahead of a great future with her child, and now it was taken away from her…

"She still hasn't woken up…" Ginshiro said as he stroked his daughter's hair. His expression was sad as he stared at Kazuha's wounds and bruises. Even if Kazuha had grown up and had started a new life with his pal's boy, in the end she was still his little girl. He felt hurt seeing her in such state.

Heiji slowly walked towards his father-in-law who acknowledged his presence. Ginshiro gave the young detective a light pat on the back before he left her with his wife. He also took his wife and Heiji's parents with him to give the couple some privacy. Heiji sat on a chair by Kazuha's bed. He slowly and hesitantly reached to stroke her hair, carefully touching her as she seemed so fragile. He then reached to hold her soft hand in his and then brought it to his lips, kissing it gingerly. And then he choked on a sob. He struggled with his breathing as he tried to stop himself from crying again, only to be betrayed by his rebellious tears.

"I'm sorry, Kazuha… I'm sorry…" He whispered over and over again, until he got tired and fell asleep.

He stayed by her side until she woke up. He waited painstakingly and patiently until she opened her eyes and found him sitting by her bed as he held her hand. Her eyes slowly adjusted to her surroundings. Her head ached and she noticed that she had an iv stuck to her arm. Her body was sore and she had bandages and gauze all over her.

"Heiji…" She said as she tried to sit up straight. Heiji stood to help adjust her pillows so that she could be comfortable.

"Hey…" He greeted her. "You finally woke up…"

She didn't respond as she took a few moments to stare at his face. He had bruises too, but she was relieved that he was okay and then she felt a heavy feeling in her chest. As if she had lost something…

And then she remembered…

"Heiji, how's Elle-chan?" She asked as she looked into his eyes. Heiji paused for a moment as he sat down. He didn't know where to start. It broke his heart that Kazuha was badly injured and the first thing that popped into her mind was Elle's safety. She had completely forgotten about herself because she cared about the baby's life, more than her own. Heiji knew right then and there that Kazuha was so much ready to be a mother and it broke his heart that that chance was taken from her.

"Heiji… Did something happen to our daughter?" She asked again, her tone briefly rose as soon as she received no response from him.

"Kazuha… Kazuha, listen to me, okay?" He said as he cupped her face in his hands. He stroked her hair lightly and held both of her hands in his. He squeezed them tightly as he looked into her eyes. Tears were already forming at the corners. She knew his tone. It wasn't gonna be good. She felt it, but she still hoped.

"Kazuha… Elle is… Elle is gone. We lost her… I'm sorry." He said, remorsefully and she broke down in tears. He sat on her bed, by her side and held her tight. She cried and screamed and thrashed. She hit his chest and tried to push him away. He hushed at her as he held her in his arms and tried to stop her from hurting herself.

"No… She's not gone." She kept saying, still in her denial state. "She's not gone. You're lying!"

Tears flowed endlessly from her eyes, soaking Heiji's T-shirt. Eventually she got tired from getting away from Heiji. His embrace loosened as her loud cries turned into quiet sniffles.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" He said repeatedly, though he knew his apology never mattered. His hugs wouldn't make the pain go away. There was nothing he could do to reverse the time. He could never bring Elle back. At that moment, Heiji wished he was the one who had died.

And for months now, he had been slowly dying, but probably not as much as Kazuha had been.

Heiji juggled work, taking care of Kazuha and solving the case regarding the assault done to both of them. It was hard for him, but he figured it could be his own way of coping and of healing. He needed to keep himself busy and distracted so that he'd forget about his loneliness. He vented all his anger and frustrations to capturing their assailant. He swore to make him pay.

The family made sure that Kazuha had all the help she could get. They took her to a psychiatrist regularly and signed her up for a support group. But depression, was crippling. Kazuha barely showed any improvement and got even worse with each day that passed.

It had come to the point of self-harm. Heiji found her inside their bathroom, lying almost lifelessly on the floor next to a pool of blood. Next to the pool of blood was a bloody box cutter. She had bloody lines on her left wrist. Kazuha almost died due to blood loss. If Heiji had not come on time, he would have lost her.

It was hard for him, but he knew that they had to solve the problem together. Kazuha hadn't spoken to him since the miscarriage. Heiji, in some sort of way, avoided her as well to escape conflict. Though he always checked up on her, he always felt too guilty to be around her that much. He also decided to give her some space. But after seeing her remnants of self-harm, he knew he couldn't run away from their problems. He knew she needed him and it was time that he focused on her more.

"Why?" He asked as he sat in front of her and stared at her carefully bandaged wrist. It was probably a stupid question, but he knew they had to talk about it. Kazuha stared into blank space and did not give him any response.

"Let's talk about it, Kazuha. Tell me everything. You want to punch me? Scream at me? Go ahead. Just… Just don't hurt yourself. Do you understand? Don't do this again." He said, controlling his tone, trying to be gentle with her as possible. He touched her shoulder and she shrugged his hand off of her angrily.

"You wouldn't understand." She mumbled under her breath. She avoided his gaze as she spoke. She clenched her fist tight and soon tears fell from her eyes again.

Heiji tried to wipe her tears away, but she swatted his hand off.

"You didn't carry her for five months! You never loved her as much as I did!" She shouted, accusingly at him. She looked at him with so much hate, an image that had been tattooed in Heiji's mind permanently.

Heiji felt a surge of emotions rush through him. His chest hurt as her words rang in his ears. He didn't show it, but he was mourning as well. And it hurt him that Kazuha had accused him of not loving Elle when in fact, she meant the whole world to him.

"Now, you're just being unfair, Kazuha. You know that's not true." He argued, slightly losing control of the situation as his emotions messed with his mind. He let out an exhausted sigh as he tried to regain composure. He didn't want it to end badly with her especially when she was in such state.

"Look… I'm working on the case, okay? I'm trying to figure out who did it, so-"

"And there you go again…" She chuckled bitterly and sarcastically as she cut him off. "It's always the cases, right Heiji? Because being a detective is so important to you, ne, Heiji? If you hadn't been a detective, this wouldn't have happened. If you loved Elle more than your job, she would still be with us. The man wouldn't have targeted you and me. The accident wouldn't have happened."

Heiji's throat dried upon her response. She looked him at him straight in the eye. Her expression was cold.

"It's your fault she's gone. You killed her."

Her words stabbed his heart like knives. In the end, no matter how much Heiji tried to look at it, Kazuha was right. Being a detective, Heiji had successfully served many civilians but as a husband and father, he was a failure. He couldn't save his own daughter and he couldn't save his own wife from slowly dying inside. What was the point of being a detective when he couldn't even protect his own family?

Heiji decided to draw the line. He quit his job as a detective. It was the toughest decision he had to make and it shocked many of his colleagues. The news became very controversial and spread all over Japan like wild fire. Heiji still worked in the headquarters, taking calls from the emergency hotline and fixing reports on criminal cases. But that was it. He didn't get involved in cases anymore. It gave him more time to look after Kazuha as well. He took all sharp objects and anything she could use to hurt herself away from her. He also made sure that someone looked after her when he's at work.

He had handed his case to his father, father-in-law and Otaki-han. He also asked for Kudo's help. Though Shinichi was disappointed with his resignation, in the end he understood and respected his decision. Ran also offered to represent him and Kazuha in court as their lawyer.

It took some time, but they were able to track the assailant. It turns out the guy was the brother of one of the criminals Heiji sent to jail. He wanted revenge and he got it. The guy was sent to jail. Heiji and Kazuha got justice for Elle's death but it didn't make everything better. It didn't bring back Elle. It didn't make Kazuha better and it didn't save Heiji from breaking with each day that passed.

Heiji shortly followed Kazuha to Elle's room so that he can place the flowers on Elle's little side table drawer. He was surprised to find the door unlocked. Kazuha would normally lock it so she was alone. He decided to knock before entering either way. She didn't respond and so he let himself in. He found her standing by the crib as she looked at Elle's framed sonogram which she held in her hand. She looked at him briefly to acknowledge his presence but immediately looked away as she met his gaze.

"I'll just put these here and be on my way out." He said, as if asking for permission.

"Do what you want." She mumbled as she turned her back to him and tiptoed to reach the mobile toy hanging right above Elle's crib. She gently turned the key right on the middle part of the hanging toy so that it would rotate and play soft lullaby music. He walked past her and went straight to the side table drawer to place the vase there.

He stood for a moment to gaze at his wife who was absentmindedly listening to the lullaby music as she stared at Elle's sonogram and gingerly touched it with her fingers. His body moved on its own as he walked towards her. He stood right behind her before he slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, giving her a tight, needy back hug. Kazuha was taken aback. She froze and tensed, but she didn't push him a way. He Rested his chin on her shoulder and then he let out a soft, remorseful sigh. He inhaled her familiar scent of lavender. He missed her. He missed holding her and so he held her tighter, relishing the moment before it all ended, before she could push him away. He noticed that she lost a lot of weight and it worried him. She felt so fragile under his touch and it scared him.

Kazuha felt uneasy, but she felt that she didn't want to push him away. She moved a little, to get a little comfortable, but Heiji spoke.

"Just give me a few minutes." He begged. "Just let me hold you for just a short while. Just this once, Kazuha…"

She listened and let him hold her. She felt a feeling of warmth and security she hadn't felt for the past few months that she had avoided him. She refused to admit, but she missed him just as much. Suddenly, all the hurt and anger started to subside. It was a different feeling, but it made her feel less heavy, like a part of her heaping emotional baggage had been discarded. Soon, she felt him rest his forehead on her shoulder. Her shirt sleeve was then soaked with his tears.

"I know I have no right, but I miss her a lot today. I miss her every day." He said, choking on his tears. Though she couldn't see him, she could tell that he was crying. He was just as broken as she was and though he tried to hide it and showed off a strong façade, he was hurting too.

For the past four months, Heiji and Kazuha's relationship had been falling apart and in some sort of way, Heiji had been trying to hold it together. He had been holding on even if she had somehow, already let go. He reached out to her so many times, but she pushed him away every time. But though she acted coldly towards him, she remembered all his efforts. Like all those times he secretly sneaked into Elle's room while she was sleeping and put a blanket on her. Kazuha knew and in some sort of way, though she never showed it, appreciated it.

"I know I'm not your favorite person right now, but I want you to know that I'm gonna wait until you forgive me, until you learn to love me again no matter how long it takes." He said before planting a soft kiss on top of her head. He slowly loosened his embrace and let her go. He turned to leave her but just as he was about to walk towards the door, she placed the frame of Elle's sonogram inside the crib and turned to hold him. This time, she was the one giving him a back hug.

"Ahou." She spoke. It had been so long since she had addressed him with their mutual pet name for each other. It sent a feeling of nostalgia towards both of them. She rested her forehead on his nape. Hot tears fell from her eyes and soaked the back of his shirt's collar. "I never stopped loving you, Heiji…"

It had also been so long since she had said his name. Kazuha figured she loved and missed the way his name rolls off her lips and Heiji felt the same way. He lifted his hand to touch the back of hers as he stood and let her hold him. He missed the warmth of her body against him. His heart felt more alive than ever.

"It's just that when she left, it felt like she took my heart with her. I was hurting, Heiji. I'm sorry. I felt so empty." She sobbed. Heiji decided to gently shrug off of her embrace to face her. He lifted her chin and looked into her tearful peridot orbs. She looked into his and noticed that he had been crying as well, an image of him she never saw every day. He looked more vulnerable and imperfect in his state, but she saw a side of him that reminded her that he was also human. Heiji always seemed so strong to her. Even when they were kids, she never once saw him cry. It made her forget that he was also capable of falling and breaking.

"I wanted her too. I wanted her so much, Kazuha. I loved her too, ya' know…" He said and she nodded, regretfully.

"I know, Heiji. I know. I'm sorry." It was her turn to wipe his tears. "I was a mess. I'm sorry I hurt you. I know I can't take back what I said, but I never meant to say it. I just… I was so angry with the world, with everyone. I was so absorbed in the pain I felt I never realized, you were hurting too."

Heiji smiled softly and shook his head. He took her in his arms and embraced her longingly. She rested her head on his chest and returned his embrace. She inhaled the smell of gardenias that had stuck to him when he had brought the flowers and arranged them on the vase. It mixed with his familiar scent that she loved and missed so much.

"Can we start over again, Heiji?" She asked as she pulled away to look at him. He brushed her hair with his fingers and nodded. Just like that all hurt, anger and emptiness subsided.

"I'd love that." He replied softly before he leaned in to brush his lips softly against hers. His kiss was gentle but in some way needy and longing. She returned his kiss with the same level of need. She missed him and he missed her. Hurt made them forget, but slowly, time let them heal and remember how much they loved each other.

The gardenias lay in Elle's room, soon to wither and collect dust as time passed. But Heiji and Kazuha's love rose and grew stronger than ever. Though the flowers lay forgotten in the dark corner of a baby room, Elle's memory, though short-lived remained in Heiji and Kazuha's hearts forever.

AN: Okay, I don't know if people still do these LJ challenges, but I wanted to try it and phew! This took really long to write. I remember my first KazuHei One Shot was really long, about 6000k+ words. I never expected this one to be much longer than the first (Check out "Beneath Cherry Blossoms in Sannouzi Temple"). Again, I'm sorry if this was way too long to be a one shot and I'm sorry if I bored you! TT_TT I've always wanted to write a scenario in which we'd see a more vulnerable Heiji. He and Shinichi were always portrayed strongly in the series. They always felt invincible and there were only rare instances where you'd see them break down a little. I wanted to do something that would incorporated more of Heiji's emotions as a human instead of a detective. In some sort of way, this is how I pictured Heiji falling. IDK if it felt OOC to you guys, but I wanted to capture his and Kazuha's emotions. That's why I wrote from the part where they were a happy couple to slowly transition to the dark parts in the present. I also did this to show you guys how much Heiji and Kazuha wanted the baby in their lives, hence the situation. IDK if I made it clear.

You guys might be wondering how I came up with the name Elle for KazuHei's daughter. So here's the explanation: I'm one of the people in the DC fandom that has joined the bandwagon of naming Shinichi and Ran's future son, Conan and I figured if ShinRan would get to name their kid after Shinichi's favorite writer, I think Heiji should get to name his kid after Ellery Queen. Hahaha Weird right?

Anyway, I hope that I was able to present the theme well in this one shot. I'm also sorry if this one felt too heavy to be my opening story to my 30 Kisses version of Heiji and Kazuha, I promise that I'd make happier and lighter ones in the future. I hope you guys support me in this. Thank you for reading and please feel free to tell me what you think about this fanfic!

With love,

~J

[planetcallisto]

— palette

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: angst and a tiny tiny tiny bit of fluff

warnings: swearing, just a day of bad luck

word count: 4831

A/N: this was a request from anon, I took a lot of artistic liberties with the “accident” part because I didn’t want it to turn out to be too typical, I hope you still enjoy it.  Also there are quite a few perspective changes but hopefully they’re obvious enough, I tried to make them clear.

“Is there someone you need to tell us about?”

“No.”

"Thank you," you call out to the bus driver. They muster up a simple smile before shutting the doors and driving off. Even inside the warm, insulated bus, somehow the sharp fall breeze still made the people inside, lethargic.

Lethargic in the way that the petal of a shrivelling flower would snap and take it's time before hitting the ground to join the rest of it's discoloured colony. But to you it was anything but.

As it breezed by your uncovered legs and picked up bunches of your skirt, it also pulled back the edges of your lips. But you weren't cold. It almost felt like the wind was warming you, despite it being the complete opposite.

A smile washed over your face just as you saw the oh-so-familiar park bench. It was a little faded since the last time you saw it. It's usual coffee brown was now but a mere caramel. Though the nostalgia it held was as strong as ever.

"Hey, um, are you cold?"

"Yeah just a little though-"

"Why did you wear a skirt knowing it was chilly?"

"I thought you'd like it. You did buy it for me."

"Ah, you're right."

"Here take this back you're gonna get cold without it."

"No, please just keep it."

"But Jungkook-"

"If I kiss you will you stop complaining?"

"Mhm."

"Oh, how you play with my emotions."

"Just shut up, I'm taking you up on that offer right now."

"Only because I love you."

"Whatever you say Jeon."

The last few birds who could still withstand the cold chirped by and flew off with dizzying determination. And with that you were left alone in the city's only park. There were no children running around and throwing sand at each other. No older couples taking their daily walk. Nothing but the sound of leaves falling the cars speeding past you.

He sat on the edge if the couch, ready to jump up the second the phone rang. He'd been waiting for wait felt like hours but it had all been worth it when it's tones filled the small apartment.

"Hey." He breathed happily. His heart was pounding and he couldn't seem to wipe the smile off his face.

"Hey Jungkook. How've you been?"

Her voice was as soft as ever. Like if you had pulled apart a cone and watched the honey string between it. Or the stroke that the paint brush left on the canvas. Smooth and unforgettable.

"Are you free today?"

Hesitation ran through him. The only thing he could think of in that moment was you, sitting in your cute skirt, waiting for him on the familiar brown bench.

"Jungkook?"

"Ah, yeah sorry."

"So are you free today?"

A breath pushed past his lips.

"Yeah, I'm not busy."

You wouldn't mind, right?

‘Jungkook-ah, where are you?’

It was the third text you sent in the last 10 minutes. The sun was slowly descending painting the sky in oranges and yellows. Clouds were pushed out of the way, almost as if the sun wanted to be in the spotlight. November was a month of rain and cloudy days. It was the month of warm coffees and strolls in the park. The month of holding hands in pockets and sharing scarves.

Where was he?

Approaching the hour mark since the time you promised to meet him, it was probably best if you went home. According to your philosophy, if you have to call him to ask where he is then it's already too late.

The wind had picked up and it was no longer comforting. It was pinching at your skin, sure to leave it red and irritated. Whispers were laced throughout reminding you that 'hey he forgot about you'.

It was becoming hard the keep your tears from pouring over your cheeks, and especially so when the bus you'd taken to get here shows up with the same bus driver. He looked at you with sympathy and also some kind of judgement. The wind followed you into the bus but not before whisking your skirt well over your thighs, revealing  only other layer you had underneath them.

Quickly you held the fabric down and ran to an empty seat near the front so that you wouldn't have to lock eyes with anyone there.

'Jungkook-ah are you okay?'

Another desperate text.

If someone had been looking over your shoulder they would've noticed the onslaught of texts you'd sent the man with a heart beside his name with absolutely no reply. It had been years since you've been to that park with him and in that time you moved from your previous studio, which happened to be very close, to somewhere much farther. The bus ride from the park back to the station alone was almost an hour on good days, but noticing the traffic and cars filled with those more distressed than you, it was going to be a long ride.

"It's been so long."

He couldn't help but break out into an uncontrollable smile. She was sat in front of him in her signature baggy sweater and large doey eyes. Since the time they'd been away from each other he'd moved on and found you, the absolute love of his life. But now, as he sat in her presence, it reminded him of the fire she lit inside him all those years ago.

"I've missed you."

Her lips were tinted a dark pink and they coaxed him.

"I missed you more."

11pm.

Back at the station.

The wind was significantly crisper and your mind had long ago been whisked away with it.

It wasn't a long walk to your car but it might as well have been. Your skirt was continuously caught in the wind but after the embarrassment you were through today, you did not care to fix it. And besides it was too dark for anyone to notice.

Never once did you think Jungkook would stand you up like he did. The bright red car finally made it's way into view and you pulled out the keys from your bag. Your body fell into the, unlock the car, open the door, get in routine. Although this time there was an extra step. It consisted of sitting in the seat with your stare set to somewhere outside the windshield as every decision you've made thus far comes into question.

'Jungkook-ah I'm going home. Don't wait for me.'

With the boiling anger slowly building in the pit of your stomach you twist the keys in the ignition and make your way home, dignity already trailing far behind you.

"It was nice seeing you again Jungkook." She smelled of roses.

Roses whom are beautiful from afar, but once you tried to pick them up their thorns would puncture your skin and send a deadly venom into your veins. Their beauty unmatched and hers alike.

His blood had finally cured itself of the toxic she had once set in his body. But it was fall and flowers were holding onto what little life they had left, sprouting seeds and wisps in hopes of living till the next spring.

The moment her voice shot through the phone in the morning he knew that she was taking her last chance to sink her thorns into him to try and coax him back to her. And it seems like she's succeeded.

"I can't believe you actually came out to see me today."

"I told you I was free didn't I?"

Free.

That he was not.

Because you'd been waiting for him.

And he did not show up.

Fuck.

"I'M GOING RELAX, THERE'S PEOPLE IN FRONT OF ME."

You shout out the window before quickly closing it and focusing on the road in front of you. The rain began to fall and everyone decided that right at this moment they needed to get home. Whether it was because it's 12am on a Friday or because the world had officially made the decision to work against you, no one had time for patience, certainly not you.

It's been 10 minutes since you put the car in park, probably amongst other people who've done the same. There seemed to be something going on ahead of the traffic leaving hundreds of people trapped in their cars and waiting. The worst combination one could produce.

The ringtone Jungkook had set for himself on your phone rang for the umpteenth time since you got into the car and there was no way you were going to answer it. He wanted to play this way? Then so be it.

Just as the streetlight shone green your foot tapped down on the gas. It wasn't until a few seconds too late that you realized that your car was still in park and it was the impact from the car behind which sent the thought through your head. The car jerked forward bringing you with it for sure to leave burn marks across your uncovered skin from the seat belt. Almost immediately the motor choked up and died down and every light inside the car dimmed to nothing.

All at once the cuts on your hand and your eyes poured. Blood from your palms and salted tears from the corners of your eyes. If no one had seen the accident they would have thought you’d just gotten into a fight, one you definitely did not win.

Right on cue lightning struck and thunder sounded. If you were to step outside it would become hard to distinguish your tears from the rain as both were falling in heavily now.

You were stuck alone with a middle aged man knocking on your window, asking you for an explanation on, "WHY THE FUCK DID YOU NOT GO," and how "IF YOU DIDN'T LOOK SO FEEBLE I WOULD'VE KICKED YOUR ASS."

Fuck you Jeon Jungkook.

No matter how much you love him, he still throws you through the depths of hell to come back out half dead begging for him to hold you in his arms.

But now it seemed like the only arms yearning for you were those of the middle aged man outside your car. And he was not looking for a kind confrontation.

The tow truck drove away with you car, the back end almost completely destroyed, scratched and the paint worn off. Metal shone through the large gauges revealing the interior body. How incidental. Today was the day that Jungkook had finally ripped his last scar in you. This ploy was what turned you transparent, into simply a bundle of bones.

For the third time you climbed onto the bus with what little energy you had left and luckily it was a different driver. The disparity must’ve been emanating off of you because the driver along with everyone else on the bus gave you the same pitying expression you’d seen at least 5 other times today. One filled with forced melancholy just to make it seem like ‘hey you aren’t the only one’.

Whether it was genuine or passive aggressive was besides you. You could use any empathy you could get.

Not even 5 minutes would go by without that familiar ringtone would climb through your pocket and startle all the passengers. You made it a mission not to answer, even if the screen on the phone read,

‘53 missed calls from: Jungkook♡’

A sigh was all that you could muster up, and apparently it had been so filled with wistful gloom that it even made the wind outside dismal, if that was even possible at this point.

You were this close to asking the driver to stop the bus and get off wherever here was. The scenery outside was much clearer than that near the park but was also terrifyingly unfamiliar,

Next stop: Port Hope.

Was this all a crazy dream that you couldn’t seem to wake up from? Because that’s what it was starting to feel like.

Immediately you turned to the woman next to you, dressed in a simple dress pant and a blouse, most likely a school teacher who had to stay after school a little too long for that special staff meeting.

“Excuse me ma’am?”

Her students must’ve been a handful today, younger children, because her reaction time was slower than you’d expect from an elementary school teacher, hypothetically anyways.

“Yes?”

“What bus number is this?”

When someone asks ‘what ____’ about anything automatically means that they are lost and did on accident. It was the universal signal for ‘help me because I’m already worried as it is’. Though it might also be bright green flashing go sing to whoever was feeling in the mood of kidnapping some stupidly hopeful youngster.

“89.”

Oh.

Oh.

Not only did you get on the wrong bus but you also waited until it’s very last stop to ask. All the people rushed passed you and you envied the knowing look in their eyes. They knew what they were doing, where they were going and more importantly that they did not half to stand outside in the cold with a skirt on.

Your best option at this point? Ask the driver if you could ride all the way back to the station and just walk, or maybe if the earth wasn’t planning to turn it's ‘Satan mode’ on you, as if it hadn’t already, you’d find a taxi driver willing to take you back on what little change you had left.

‘67 Message from: don’t answer’

The wait at the edge of the road only grew longer and longer especially after seeing a dozens taxis with people already in them.

Though Jungkook was still just as persistent. And what you hated about yourself was that you knew the moment you saw his face you would descend into his oh-so-familiar embrace. No one knew that more than yourself; you were way to forgiving. His little stunt sent you on the wildest goose chase of your lifetime. Usually people would aspire to find something precious; love, money, gold, but you were in need of a trip home.

“Excuse me! EXCUSE ME?”

A man wearing a large winters hat ripped you from your thoughts. The bright light that sat atop his car read “TAXI” and then a string of number which, if you would have known them, could have been helpful.

“Did you hail a taxi or not?”

He was quite irritated and you were in no place to be offended. You stood there like the soles of your shoes had spiked that puncture through the solid cement.

“Yes.”

It sounded more desperate than you had hoped, but at this point anything would do.

Just as you bent to climb into the back seat of the car something in your knee cracked and shot electricity through your whole body. Once again your were frozen in your place.

How pathetic did you look? Ripped up, teary eyed, bleeding and with burn marks on your skin. 

What a mess.

“Are you okay?”

Knowing that he couldn’t see you, you still nodded and flopped down onto the seat to try and alleviate the growing pain.

“Please sir, just drive me home.”

Even if it was the loud DING of the elevator and seeing such a familiar face on the other side of the doors that tore the breath from your lungs, it was something you were going to ignore. Anything that was remotely sudden startled you now. On the way home, the taxi driver had decided that It’s still beautiful was an appropriate song to play. The irony of seeing him smile and sing along really brought the painting to a finish. All you could see was colour and it overwhelmed you. Vibrant shades of greens and oranges emanated from him and wrapped themselves around you, passive aggressively. They yelled and shouted in delight, more than ready to pass it onto you, but the somber blue hues that seeped from your body was enough to scare them off. And you saw the same in him too.

Easily forgiving was something you were ready to rid yourself of, especially in a moment like this. Yet, Jungkook knew you too well. The words ‘don’t answer’ flashed on the screen of your phone and his stupidly cute picture accompanied it. Hesitantly you ran your finger over the red button.

‘The caller you are trying to reach is not available at this moment, please try again later.’

Shock was floating in the air, though in two very different forms.

“Y/N-”

“So now you want to give an explanation?”

Usually, people would say that the first person to cry in a fight was the loser, that you were weak and so emotionally driven that you couldn't even stay composed enough to have a civil conversation. Oddly enough, it empowered you. It was like a landed hit on the opposer, you were torn apart emotionally, physically and mentally, yet you still had enough in you to tear him apart. The personification of I fall, you’re coming with me’.

“I really didn’t think you’d mind. You’re always so nonchalant about everything, Y/N please I’m so sorry-”

“Jungkook, you need to move out of the way.”

“Will you listen to me?”

“No.”

For the second time in a matter of minutes you managed to fix his face into the same shocked expression, “Why not?”

“Do you not understand? It’s a only a matter of days before my parents marry me off to Mr.I’m-financially-stable-and-friends-of-your-parents. They’ve been planning this since the moment they met him. Free to make your own decision? Isn’t that such a joke?”

Who was Jungkook to them? A random boy with ‘long shot dreams of becoming a musician’. In the prime of company growth and the media playing such a large role in everything, something as ambitious as a musician was laughable. And after the way you’d seen the life with one was like, you began to attain the same suspicion.

“This is what’s best for you, we promise honey.”

Never have they been more wrong about something. You respected them, they raised you into who you are today, yet could they be this naive? More time in the world comes with intellect; isn’t that what you’ve been told your entire life?

“But what if I love someone else?”

A light scent of fear brushed over their faces but was quickly replaced with some form of pity, but not the kind some people seek. It was more of a ‘you really think that’s a choice?’ kind of expression.

Out of feigned interest they asked, “Is there someone else?”

Was this the earth’s way of giving you a second chance? Mother nature herself was begging you to tell the truth; the sky cleared of the rain and the sun shone straight through the glass of the apartment. All this time you felt like your parents hand been forcing your brush strokes. They let you choose the colours yet they ultimately decided what to do with them and this was the first time you felt in control. Baby blues were all you could see, the colour of wishful thinking. The tip of your brush was millimeters from the canvas but something held you back.

“Honey, we don’t want you to end up like us. Please, we’re trying to push you away from that. We want you to be successful and not under the thousands of dollars of debt. You want you to live a happy life.”

It was your dad who spoke up next, “Is there someone you need to tell us about?’

“No.”

He did not speak a word. From the time you’d been together he found that you fell into your own word a lot and it was best for him to sit back and wait it out.

“Y/N...just look at you, at least let us go inside and here take my jacket. You idiot, you’re skin is basically blue from the cold. I’ll help you with it-”

“Now I’m the idiot?”

“What?”

“Today was potentially the last day for us to relive the days where things were less complicated and yet you still choose to go out without me?”

“How many times do you want me to tell you I’m sorry? Huh?”

Your fingers wrap around the collar of the jacket he’d thrusted your way and shove it back to his chest, “That’s not going to cut it anymore.”

“ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME? I. AM. SORRY. WHAT DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND?”

You wished it hadn’t taken you aback as much as it did, but his voice was loud enough to boom through the doors of the apartments nearby.

“I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand. Jungkook, after Sunday, this, is not something that can happen anymore. I’ve told you this a million times and you always brush it off like I’m joking. Why do you think that after the 2 years we’ve been together that you still haven't met my parents?”

This time, it was his turn to fall into realization, “I didn’t think you were serious.”

A scoff pushed it's way past your lips, “Why would I lie to you?”

You've never given him any reason to ever think that you were lying. In fact, he was the one who insisted on telling the truth no matter what.

“Move Jungkook, I’m tired and beat up and hungry. I don’t need this from you.”

“Let’s go eat. I’ll buy you something. What about some fries? Or maybe pizza, you were craving that earlier right? Or we could go to that new burger place you wanted to eat at-”

“NO. PLEASE I’M BEGGING JUST MOVE.”

The silence quickly grew as you caught yourself before you spoke any more.

“Why are you being so stubborn, I told you I was sorry. What the fuck do you want from me?”

“Nothing Jungkook, absolutely nothing.”

“So?”

The thought had been on your mind for a while now. Was this all really worth it anymore? Three nights from now you were probably gonna be in the bed of another man with a obscenely large ring on your finger, replacing the one there now. A simple silver band with a heart engraved into it.

“Ah...Uh...Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“Are you busy?”

“Uh no just finishing my essay.”

He hadn’t even gotten up from his spot and his cheeks were already faded pink. Light from the lamp next to him cascaded over the silver ring; a cheesy hollow heart carved into it. No one had ever seen him so defeated and vulnerable but this is the way you made him feel. Weakly, he stands up and makes his way to the bar stool you sat on. Your hair was messy and lined papers scattered the table ahead of you.

“Y/N?”

“Yes Kook?”

Pet names. There to remind him that he meant something to someone. And he loved them.

“Give me your hand.”

It was almost a demand. You spun around on the chair and his trembling fingers gripped yours. Warmth radiated from him and his oversized red sweater, where he could hide all his nerves, though they were finally creeping up on him.

The ring slid onto your finger with ease and fit next to perfectly. Just as his lips turned up into a smile you leaned in and kissed him like it was the first time in years.

“I love you so much.”

Chocolate from the earlier cake pig-out lingered on his lips and it made you laugh, “You taste like chocolate.”

“You love chocolate.”

“I know.”

Just as easy as it sat around your finger, it slid off. Although it had worn down over the years and the heart was becoming shallower. Ironic isn’t it? As time went on the ring wore down until the heart was barely visible, yours alike. Each day the two of you were apart began to feel more normal than when you were together. It had become regular to not talk to him for a few days before reuniting for a whole week and back again. The metal around your finger was a physical reminder of your attachment to him. Everyday it stared back at you with it's luster and nostalgia, almost as if it was begging to return to that time. To the time when it was new and whole: unscratched and un-tattered. When your parents were to busy with their own lives to care about what you were doing with your time and if all that ‘homework’ was actually getting done. When the two of you went on midnight convenience store runs in the middle of the night because you were craving one of those spicy cups of ramen.

“I think you need to take this.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Jungkook just take it. I swear to fucking god-”

“WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THIS? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I FUCKING LOVE YOU? I WILL GET ON MY KNEES AND BEG YOUR PARENTS IF I HAVE TOO.”

Your fingers tightened around the ring and heat ran through your veins. There was absolutely no other action to be taken. None of this is exactly how you wanted it to be but did you have a choice? Not really.

“I DON’T HAVE A FUCKING CHOICE ANYMORE JUNGKOOK. JUST TAKE THE FUCKING RING BEFORE-” and you stop yourself.

Before? Before what exactly?

Before you fall in love with him all over again? Before you decide that your parents aren't allowed to dictate your major life choices? Before you say something you’re going to regret for the rest of your life?

“THERE I TOOK THE RING FROM YOU. IS THAT BETTER? WHAT. ARE YOU GOING TO TELL ME YOU DON’T LOVE ME ANYMORE AS THE ICING ON THE FUCKING CAKE? HUH?”

Definitely the latter. That was one thing you hated about yourself: saying things you didn’t mean just to cut the argument short because you hated confrontation.

“I’m sorry Jungkook,”

“I WAS KIDDING YOU DON'T HAVE TO ACTUALLY FUCKING DO IT.”

With that, you said the words that you desperately tried to hold back. Maybe it was the smell of iron from the dried blood on your lips. Or the fact that your knee was being impaled by satan’s actual spear. You regretted it before you even spoke; it hurt you just as much as it hurt him, maybe even more. But by the look on his face it was arrogant of you to even assume that.

“I don’t love you anymore.”

Everything around you might as well have faded into black and white. ‘Life was not single dimensioned’ they told you. ‘It was a multifaceted and full of colours everyone could see, but some would ignore’, they said. Though, from the way it’s been treating you was like an old painting: ready to cover you up with a clean layer of gesso and begin to paint the starts of someone else's life. You’ve done it before. A picture of a boy with the softest brown hair with an even softer pair of brown eyes hung itself on your wall and refused to be moved. In time, you began painting over him, creating a new story for him in which you were a part of. Where instead of his doe eyes fixated up they were stuck on you. And when you thought that all it needed was a few last strokes the familiar scent of gesso brought it’s way back into your life. Just like your parents had forced your hand with Jungkook before, it had happened again, but this time it was permanent.

“Do you, Y/N, take _____ as your lawfully wedded husband?”

The gesso has dried and once again you were painting the beginnings of a new life. One where your parents kept a firm grip on the brush and sent it only in straight clean lines. There was absolutely no experimentation with colour, leaving you with the dull greys they left in your palette. Even the tears it had collected over the many sleepless nights was not enough to wash away the white mask. If you tried to scrape it off the canvas would tear ruining the painting on the top and the other one you had covered.

What do they say? Beauty is in the eye if the beholder?

To you, it was an array of clouded skies with tears pouring down from the skies itself. But everyone else seemed to look at it through a completely different lens. Some with shades of purple as deep as envy itself and others with the blues of wishful thinking - thoughts that had come true - more specific to your parents.

Mother nature was not done with you either. If the letters that formed his name could be written in the sky as an obvious plead then they would have been there if you looked up. But instead you were met with drops of rain, greyer than you remember them to be.

“I do.”