#bubbly toes was my favorite song as a kid

[strawberri-syrup]

jack johnson is literally the musician of all time

[coeurify]

LACY, OH LACY

ellie williams.

·˚ ༘ * “like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots. you got the one thing that i want."

pairing: ellie williams x f!reader. summary: you’ve got the one thing ellie wants, and it’s rotting her thoughts of you. based on lacy by olivia rodrigo. warning: my first go at true angst, but a happy ending! i took a much sadder direction with the song lol. reader is described as having a father figure. looks of reader never described beside that there’s ribbons in their hair. they/them pronouns used. for a GUTS writing challenge in writing server!

Envy was a nasty thing. Ellie knew that. Ellie knew that the way her lip curled down upon the sight of your frame disappearing into the Tipsy Bison in Jackson was unfair.

Ellie knew that the way her body tensed whenever you were followed quickly by an older man, one who grumbled and wiped at his sleepy eyes, wasn’t fair. The way she turned on her heel and walked away each time she saw you two, the pebbles under the toe of her converse being kicked away, that wasn’t fair either.

But god, did it tie her stomach in tiny little knots, ones that made it hard to swallow, hard to look away when your shining eyes met her’s across the street somedays.

Sometimes, she tries to blame it on sleep. She tells herself the angry feeling bubbling in her stomach is simply a result of the sleepless nights. Of the shaking and panting breaths that shoot from her as she awakes from another never ending nightmare.

But most days, she realizes it’s only an excuse. This sick feeling is reserved only for you, and Ellie wishes she could swallow it down like a shot, but it instead pools in her mouth, poisoning her movements, her thoughts, her everything around you.

When you smile the smile Ellie knew all too well, It only made her feel worse. It shouldn’t, really, Ellie should quirk her lips up in response, wave you over maybe. Joel would have insisted. But lately she just raised a hand in a softer, colder response before finding a new corner to escape down.

Hell, if Joel was here, if things were different, he would have tilted his chin up knowingly when Ellie’s own chin jutted down at the sight of you, her cheeks painted pink with something akin to affection, rather than the near constant shade of frighteningly pale her face seemed to be lately.

He had done so a million times.

When Ellie was only a measly sixteen, telling Joel she just couldn't let you stay the night while Joel and your old man went on a particularly long patrol.

“I barely even know them!” Ellie had fought, her arms crossed over the quickly beating heart in her chest. She knew you, she knew you liked to wear ribbon in your hair, she knew your favorite color was blue because your favorite shoes were that color, and she knew you were pretty. So fucking pretty, the kind that made her stomach turn all mushy and gross when she tried to talk to you over the semi regular shared dinners Joel and a few other older men around town had insisted upon.

Joel just shook his head, seemingly fighting back one of those chuckles that made it sound like he knew something Ellie didn’t. Ellie hated when he did that. “You know them well enough, kid.” was all Joel had responded, patting Ellie’s slumped back.

Joel did it when you coaxed Ellie out of her little garage for dinner inside of Joel’s, a few years later. He would never say anything, not when he could barely get Ellie to say hello anymore, but a look was all that was needed. Green meeting a more tired looking brown for just a split second, and Ellie knew. Joel saw right through the nervous looks Ellie threw your way, saw through how Ellie insisted on totally platonically complimenting you every time you walked through the door. Ellie’s knees were always pointed your way at the table, and Joel always saw.

“They’re pretty,” Joel said later that night, voice careful as he watched Ellie, who watched the dishes she silently cleaned off the table. “Sweet too, too sweet for a hell like this.” Joel could barely finish the words before he heard the creak of the door, before the house was quiet again.

The last time you were brought up, Ellie remembers being cold. She’s often cold now, but the night on the porch was one of the first truly cold nights in Jackson. It stung her nose while she walked outside of the Tipsy Bison, leaving a crowd of shocked faces.

She felt stupid, so stupid that it made the wind feel even icier against her skin. God, why did she have to dance with Dina? Her eyes had been settled on you all fucking night, but Dina was always a firecracker, always tugging Ellie to dance or talk loudly at the bar top. Ellie couldn’t stop heaving as she slammed the door. Did you think they were together too? Did you think Dina was leaning in to kiss her like Seth thought? Dina wasn’t. Ellie wanted to tell you that as soon as Dina’s lips came to her ear, “They’re watching, El.”

But Seth broke the dance before Ellie could. Joel only made it worse in Ellie eyes, and yet you still followed her out the building.

Of course you did.

“Ellie,” she remembers you saying so softly, as if she might break if you had raised your voice even a little. Maybe she would have, she was a fragile thing that night, something easily crushed in your hands. Hands that had been gripped by yours outside the Bar that night.

You were the only one who didn’t look at her like she had two heads after the Seth incident, after her face had gone red at the sight of Joel. Her harsh words to the older man didn’t scare you away, didn’t make you crumble her between your finger tips.

“You should talk to him.” Your breath hit her face, the only warmth in that fucking air, and ellie remembers smelling something that was just as delicate as a pastry, maybe a perfume your father found on a patrol, maybe just you.

You cared. Something Ellie had convinced herself otherwise of, something that didn’t make sense in her mind. Why did you have any worry about she and Joel? How did it concern you at all? But it did, and Ellie listened to you.

Ellie walked up that frosted porch, arms swinging nervously, searching for space on the wooden railing. Ellie let Joel join her, let him ask about you.

“You like them?” Joel’s hands cupped his coffee, his head tilted Ellie’s way.

Ellie remembers so vividly how she turned away, tucking her chin near her shoulder. “I’m so stupid.”

Ellie could see how Joel’s head shook lightly, “You ain’t. They’d be lucky to have you.”

Ellie wishes she answered him that night, wishes she would have sat back on the porch, wishes she didn’t call him an asshole. Ellie wishes a lot of things about that night. Maybe she would have hugged him, if she had known. Maybe she would have started that conversation with forgiveness, rather than a hint of it, thrown at the end of her scrambled words, swallowed by her eyes she willed not to cry.

Ellie wishes for a lot of things, but she knows it’s useless.

Just as useless as avoiding you, now.

You had worn a black ribbon in your hair, the day of Joel’s burial. You had hugged Ellie so tightly, and Ellie almost could feel the heartbeat she swore she lost.

“I’m so sorry,” you had blubbered into her solid frame, and she almost tucked her nose into the skin of your neck, almost let the scent of your perfume calm her. But she just thanked you, pulled back and wiped one of her shaking thumbs over your tear streaked face. She was wiping your tears that day, and somehow it felt like the only right thing to do.

But Ellie remembers that day for another reason. It had been the first day she noticed the sick feeling in her stomach. The first time the hue of pink that always clouded her vision around you was dusted green instead, jealousy clawing at her throat.

She hated it. She hated how she couldn’t look away from where you slumped against your father’s chest. How his hand rubbed your shaking back as his breath puffed out in cold little clouds.

She hated how it reminded her of him.

Ellie stood alone, and watched on, feeling the tightening green branches of whatever awfulness was growing in the pit of her stomach. She cursed whatever it was laying above space, she dug the ball of her feet into the freezing grass and she cursed the earth for leaving her here to have to see this.

She walked home alone that night, shrugging you off with a rather monotone, “Go home, don’t worry about me,” when your eyes met hers in the cold air. She saw how you deflated lightly, saw how your eyes dropped to the ground. It made her feel more nauseous. She swallowed her feelings, the good and the bad, and wrapped her arms around herself as she turned.

That night Ellie veered away from her garage, finding comfort instead on the old couch that sat in Joel’s living room, and she thinks it may be the quietest place she has ever heard. She wonders what you may be doing. Was the creaking of the walls all you heard in your Jackson home too? Surely you hadn’t ripped an old and faded jacket from a closet that did not belong to you to use as a makeshift blanket, like Ellie had.

No, Ellie is sure your father walked close to you all the way home, sure he pulled out the chair at the kitchen table for you and offered you dinner, she’s even sure he had managed to crack a smile from you.

Ellie goes to sleep with a sick stomach.

“You're jealous, that’s natural,” Dina told her a few weeks later, after another stint of that awful green vine rooting itself in Ellie, one that kept her from taking you up on an offer to help clean up Shimmer. The growing seed that made her shake her head at you and offer a small and untruthful, “Don’t need any help.”

Dina handed Ellie a cup of warm tea in the cold garage. Ellie wouldn’t drink it, and she also wouldn’t eat any of the meals the Jackson residents left at her doorstep. But everyone still tried.

“But I shouldn’t be,” Ellie’s voice didn’t sound like her own. It was void of any vibrancy, any spark that Ellie’s tongue usually made. It was empty, spoken coldly. cold for herself, cold for that feeling in her chest.

“You’re grieving, El, it’s ok.”

Dina pressed a kind hand to her shoulder, and despite the way Ellie poisoned you in her mind, she still found herself wishing it was yours instead.

And now, more weeks that all pressed confusingly together had passed. The flower’s outside Joel’s were covered by snow, wilted and drained of life. His house had been empty since Ellie stole some of his old clothes a week back, a jacket that embarrassingly laid on the edge of her chair as she swung open the door of her garage turned home, glancing at another container on her doormat.

It was from you, of course it was. Ellie was sure you had been sent from some sort of heaven she was far too damned to ever access. A small note held your handwriting, and Ellie leaned down, grasping the food, the warmth burning at her frozen fingers.

Maria said she didn't see you at supply day again. I think you’d like this. I remember you eating it a lot at the dinners.

ps. you’re doing great in patrols, glad you went back to them. you’re one of the best jackson has.

xx.

A strand of auburn hair fell across her cheek as her chin dipped down, eyelashes tickling her skin as they closed.

Ellie was avoiding you, you had to have known that. Jesse knew it, Dina knew it, hell, even Tommy had commented on it last time he came by. Sure, Ellie was avoiding nearly everyone still, but it was no secret she turned the corner whenever you and your old man were around.

But here you were, making her food, leaving her notes of praise, complimenting her as if you had any need to. It made Ellie’s always down pointed lip quiver for a moment. You still fucking cared. Just like always.

It didn’t feel nice, it didn’t feel like how it would’ve if she got this note months ago. Then she would’ve clapped a hand over her heated cheek, stuffed it under a notebook like a kid with a crush.

But now, it felt more like an ache. A burning in her chest that made her push the door back open and slide the container on the waiting table near her door.

She should eat it later, that would be the kind thing to do. But the little voice whispers in Ellie’s ear again, the voice that drips poison over the thankfulness blossoming in her chest, ‘You think he helped them make that?’ the voice asked.

The palm of her hand pressed to her eyes as she leaned on the doorway, “Fuck.” Ellie muttered.

She kicked the wood, “Fuck!”

Ellie slammed her already bruised fist on the cracked wood and yelped. The splitting pain broke the girl from her mini temper tantrum, and the empty hand cupped the throbbing skin, a pair of teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

Surely this wasn’t a normal way to react to something so kind, something as simple as food. She didn’t have to overthink every small thing, didn’t have to let her brain flip every positive to a negative, but how does Ellie stop what she has grown so accustomed to?

Ellie’s first attempt to rid her chest of the vines that constricted her ribs was a deep breath and a squeeze of her eyes. She pretends she can smell your perfume still lingering in the air, she imagines your cheeks turned up in a smile, she wonders what color of ribbon you found this week to turn into some new hair tool, and then she exhaled.

Maybe if she thought hard enough, the vines would retreat, the ache on her bones would feel more like the silk of your touch. Maybe she can let herself care more about what you give her, kindness, food, those stupid butterflies she used to feel whenever you spoke, that set of pastel oil paints from a year ago. Rather than letting that voice remind her of all the things you could not give her, things you could not repair.

You hadn’t taken Joel from her, your old man hadn’t either. You having that.. having him, it wouldn’t make any of what Ellie was going through change. She swallowed the truth down like nails as she turned away from the garage.

When Ellie opens her eyes again, her vision seems a little more bright.

By the time Ellie winds up at the stable, she is pressed closely by Dina who tends to Japan, brushing quietly

Ellie breaks the silence first, and it surprises both when the first word from her mouth is your name.

Dina’s gaze shoots over, and Ellie can almost see the thin ice she is debating stepping on, lips parting. You were never an easy topic, and usually when El uttered the syllables of your name, Dina was in for a long and drawn out conversation she never knew truly how to maneuver, the conversation layered with every confusing feeling Ellie had for you. The guilt, the jealousy. Everything in between.

Ellie beats her to speaking again, “They left me food again today. I woke up to it.”

Dina nods slowly, eyes falling back to her horse. “That’s nice of them.”

“It is,” Ellie agrees, flexing her bruising knuckles. “Left a note too, complimenting me and shit.”

The brunette to the side of her pauses for a moment, her boots turning in lightly as she judged her next step. “If you had told me this a year ago, I think you would’ve blabbered for like.. forty minutes about how they were ‘the greatest thing ever to exist’ or convinced me it meant they were in love with you.”

The air is silent, and Dina thinks she may have overstepped.

But the vines have taken on a softer sort of squeezing on Ellie’s chest now, one that felt like the ribbon you wore.

“Yea,” she smiled lightly, and Dina stumbled a bit, maybe out of pure shock. “Yea I probably would have.”

The silence finds them again, though there’s no thickness to it, and Ellie finds her heavy shoulders just slightly less pained for a moment.

Until the stable door swings open, and Ellie watches as Dina’s head turns. She can tell from the look on her face alone, on the way she blinks a few times and glances at Ellie.

You had just walked through.

You walk by where Japan and Shimmer stood, and you smiled like you always did.

This time, Ellie’s chest only tightened lightly. She only felt the small tug of ribbon when she recognized the flannel you had pushed up to your elbows, one she had seen your father wear on patrols many times.

This time, Ellie tries to smile back. She doesn’t let that burn find her stomach, doesn’t let the voice sneer at the clothing and remind Ellie of what she did not have. This time, Ellie speaks instead.

“Thanks for the food.”

You look almost as nervous as Ellie feels. You probably didn’t expect responses by this point.

“Oh it’s no problem,” you shake your head and smile. “Hope you enjoy it.”

Ellie nods, tensing up, useless to decide where this conversation should go, where it could go.

Just as the branches begin to curl around her lungs again, Dina cuts them down with her voice.

��El and I thought about sharing it after patrol today, maybe over some shitty movie. You in?”

The auburn haired girl shoots an aimed look at Dina, but the way you light up and step closer, the way she can smell that pastry scent again, it calms her lightly.

“It’ll be fun,” Ellie offered, voice cracking toward the end.

“Yea,” you smile, toes bouncing like they did when you were excited. Toes covered by your favorite shade of blue shoes. “I’d really like that.”

When you meet Ellie’s eyes, she can see pink instead of green again for the first time.

[wonder-doughnut]

Some of my Wonder-Red headcanons because for some reason I've never made a post about my Red headcanons:

He definitely drives with both hands on the wheel at all times and his back straight, but I don't think he has a car and hasn't had one for his entire life. He probably graduated high school, moved to Blossom City for college, never left, and now just takes public transport to get around. He hasn't driven a car since he got his license.

He can't stand medical stuff and gets nauseated at the sight of surgery being performed. He can still go to the doctor just fine, but as soon as guts are being poked at and things are cut open, he's gotta tune-out.

He stutters trying to say certain "dirty words" in any context outside an educational one. They make him uncomfortable. He very carefully tip-toes around saying words pertaining to bathroom or sex related subjects. Blue and Green figured this out one day and tried to harass Red into saying words an immature person would find funny. Red did not fall for it, and was not amused.

He never uses profanity. He never developed the habit and decided it would be a good thing to maintain because he works with children.

He is a Good Christian Boy™. Probably goes to church and partakes in a lot of local activities like charities and fundraisers. I like to think he regularly chaperones a group of church-going kids, doing things like Christmas caroling and playing at the park.

Ever since the death of his father, he has had consistent problems with nightmares. He started doing crossword puzzles before bed to relax and get his mind off things. It helps prevent nightmares.

While Red takes good care of himself and his health, he is not a health nut. I get this idea from the illustrations for the difficulty settings where he can be seen eating a doughnut and also a slice of pizza. I like to think he'd be a scrawny little nerd, but he took up working out as a means to cope with his painful emotions.

He enjoys soundtracks to musicals and stage shows. He was raised in part by Commander Nelson, whose hobby is theater, so I can imagine Red probably was exposed to all sorts of performing arts. I like to think that when Red feels particularly bubbly, he sings songs from his favorite musicals, and if Nelson is around, they sing together.

[rose-of-oz]

🦁 Kelly Henderson, my beloved?

Oooh, yes, yay!! Thanks so much for this, Anna!!

Their favorite gem stone: Amethysts.

Their most heroic moment: Saving Steve from being attacked by a demo-bat in the season four Upside Down battle and managing to rip the thing’s wing off.

A superstition they believe in (if they do believe in them): You will never catch this girl walking under a ladder.

Their favorite 2000s song: “Bubbly” by Colbie Caillat.

Their first pet: A little goldfish she named Daisy.

Their favorite video game: She’s very skilled at PacMan.

Their lowest moment: Having to drag her little brother away from Eddie’s body in the Upside Down, trying to tell him they had to go while he fought and screamed, even as she was sobbing over such an awful loss herself.

Their crime against humanity (whether that's an actual crime or something cringeworthy/embarrassing they've done): Her absolutely ridiculous dad jokes; Steve may be the mom of the kids, but Kelly is the dad.

Their middle name: Louise.

If they have sloppy or neat handwriting: It kind of toes the line; it can be read, but sometimes you have to look closely to be able to.

Send me 🦁 + an OC!!

[dedmar]

All I wanna do is talk about Leonidas all day but I have to be a normal person >:(

-Physically in his late 30s (37-ish?) but I keep bumping this back— he could be pushing 40s honestly. Actually 255 and doesn’t age. -really smart but also very very ditzy

-has Raynaud’s and Marfan Syndrome (lips/toes/fingers are cold/turn blue easily d/t genetics and connective tissue disorder that causes ppl to be really tall)

-with his 2 ahoge he’s 6’7”, without he’s 6’4” , weighs maybe 145-150lbs

-fucking loves sugary coffee and desserts

-technically has a doctorate in medicine but it’s from 1880-something so ???

-mentally stuck in the 60s-70s. Considers it the best era for fashion/music—but not for food. He prefers modern food (especially junk food)

-bi/pan but too dense to realize ppl wanna fuck him

-charisma powerhouse and very outgoing but also an introvert that gets exhausted from socializing and needs a lot of time to recover

-the overt charisma is probably a cover-up for his insecurity

-is the more responsible one (but that’s not saying a ton…)

-very much a stoner in the 60s-70s, stopped as he grew more detached from the world and became more introverted. Still has plants he tends to tho. Will smoke with Ruby occasionally.

-Very well meaning and has a good heart but finds his exuberance and obsessiveness over details often hinders goals and makes things worse

-also very much a caregiver, but again struggles with overdoing things and complicating them.

-perky and positive!!! Except when something goes wrong, then he wears his heart on his sleeve and cries. A lot. Rarely ever shows anger or frustration (it usually bubbles over into tears anyways)

-experiments on himself. Of course. He’s gotta know why he’s living so fucking long and not aging. -his favorite color is yellow

-his favorite song is “love the one you’re with” by the Isley Brothers

-probably was present at the first sci-fi/comic conventions

-read every single one of the Star Wars extended universe books plus any pulpy sci-fi books he got his hands on

-fine at cooking, better at gardening than you’d expect

-hates having his head touched but likes having his hair short, so 99% of the time his hair is this awkward shaggy cut with 2 cowlicks poking out where he either half cut it and gave up, or he’s overdue for another cut and putting it off. Sometimes puts it up in a low ponytail or clip

-big time cuddler. Starved for affection (like 200 years starved).

-overfunctioner that overthinks for other peoples’ sake, even to his own detriment or it becomes illogical (ie “oh I think I’m in love with him but if I tell him he’ll feel obligated to reciprocate and I don’t want to put that on him, he’s already been through a lot. I won’t say anything and wait for him to approach me, and if anything just be a good friend!!! *cries*” or “If I help her with her groceries she’ll feel the need to thank me or compensate me in some way and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. Besides, I don’t want her to think I don’t think she’s capable!”)

-loves with his whole heart and honestly probably lets people in too easily. He gets hurt a lot :(

I’m in love with him your honor he’s everything to me he was my best friend when I was a lonely kid and he’s still my bby man!!!!

ok thanks bye!!!!

[declanfs]

10/22/23

Quick little hike at the battlefield, and by quick I mean 3.5 miles of carrying your through the forest. You did not want to ride in the backpack. You did RUN the first .2 miles. Then I gave you a piggy back ride until my arms got too tired and then dada carried you for like 1.5-2 miles. I carried you the last mile or so I think, but it might not have been that far and just felt like it because you weight 32 pounds and are very long. It didn’t help that it was cutting into your ideal nap time, so we can’t blame you.

We saw lots of cool mushrooms, a baby copperhead (possibly), and a cool green and purple caterpillar. I didn’t take many photos because it’s hard to take pictures when your arms are full of a baby.

You still love magnatiles, and this is a house you built all by yourself. You love to make “cloud towers” like from Tumble Leaf and sometimes they are so tall that you have to use a step stool to stack the pieces on the very top. You like to pick things out of the book for me or dad to make, and then you really like to smash them all up. We make garages for mater and lighting McQueen, for your monster trucks, and have made a zoo for your animals and many other random things I can’t remember. I just really liked this thing that you made all by yourself, it looks like a castle and is very arty with how you stood some pieces up and laid others on their sides. It’s fun to watch you play on your own because you get in a super focused zone and you’ll play for 15-20 minutes singing songs to yourself and talking for you people or just talking to yourself as you figure out what you’re doing.

Sometimes your toys get stuck or are falling down and other toys have to help them. Sometimes you just line up every single block or car or magnatile in a line that is like 3 feet to 30 feet long depending on what you are using. Earlier you spent a good chunk of time pouring water into your new balance scale thing. You’re a very skilled pourer and I don’t think you spilled even a drop.

Today you actually helped me with toy rotation. You tell me which toys you want to keep out or put away (usually it’s putting all the last week’s toys away), and then you are entertained for a good hour or more because all the “new” toys pull your play in all kinds of directions. This week the train table has all your construction vehicles and kinetic sand. The playroom has the ABC puzzle, some books, your rock and roll monster truck, the lovevery flowers and peg board, and bubble blowing train that pop and Deedee got you for Christmas last year. You were afraid of the train at first because it’s kind of loud and it didn’t help that it fell on your toe at one point, but now you love it and it played for like 30 minutes straight with its very loud music. **cringe smile**

The last little update is that we went to Belvedere with Granny on Friday. She took the day off and it was perfect. It was a bit cool and the rain didn’t start until we were driving home. Your favorite favorite part was probably the corn maze. I’m going to add two more videos from this day (slide + maze), but you loving the maze was such a funny surprise to granny and me. It’s like you knew exactly what to do and exactly where to go and you basically ran through the entire thing to lead us to the exit without getting lost once. You were gleefully and maniacally laughing as we could barely keep up with you as you raced around the corners, but it was so fun. You wanted to hide in the corn and jump out to scare granny and you were so pleased with yourself about following the paths and leading the way. You are such a joy.

You are still unsure of the big bouncy pillow. I think you are deterred by all the other kids being on there and jumping and running around in complete chaos. Which I totally understand, I bet it feels really scary to be so small and to see all these other bodies bouncing and running around with no predictability. At one point, another boy spun around and his foot barely grazed the top of your head. I don’t even think he noticed because you fell at almost the same exact time and his sock probably skimmed the top of your hair, but you noticed. You said “mama, he kicked me.” So the next time he came over I tried to advocate for you to teach you how to talk to the other kids and how you have to stand up for yourself, but it’s sooo hard. I mostly just made observations about how he almost kicked you on accident and then talked about how it was lucky that no one got hurt. This is so tricky because I don’t know where that kid’s adult was and I feel like all adults handle things differently. And I’m sure that 99% of adults would prefer to handle situations with their kid on their own. But, I promise to work on this. To strengthen my voice so your voice will be strong too.

Another favorite was the corn pit. This was our second time here in two weeks so you knew what you did and did not want to do. The corn pit, the pig races, feeding the animals, the big bubbles, and the obstacle course thing were on your YES list.

Being a pig pal and the zip line swing things were on your NO list. You enjoyed the slide a lot, but we did not do it as much as I expected. I definitely want to go back to Sneads so you can do their mountain slides again, especially if we go on a weekday in the beginning of the week and no one else is there!

We opted to get pumpkins at the store because Belvedere is so expensive and we ran out of time to go on the hayride before they closed at 2. I’m not sure you would have wanted to anyway though, so it’s all good and we will try again next year.

[dokuixote]

building blocks & casual conversation

yoon jeonghan x gn!reader (<1k words)

genre: fluff-est of fluff

recommended songs: 1 2 3

“do you think you’ll say yes?” jeonghan suddenly blurts out taking your attention away from the newly-bought lego hogwarts castle you’ve both been building all afternoon.

you raise your brows in confusion because his eyes that’s still on the blocks made you wonder if he even meant to say it out loud.

jeonghan then asks for the second time with his conviction disguised behind a smirk, “you’ll say yes, won’t you?”

he shifts his body sitting on the wooden floor of your shared apartment to sit behind you, and you feel his chin rest on your shoulder.

“why don’t we start with the right question: what the hell are you talking about?” you retort knowing that it is not impossible for your boyfriend to initiate a nonsensical discussion.

just last week, jeonghan brought up evidences of his belief on the secret existence of aliens on earth, a week before that it was a theory of smartphones making kids today (more) stupid because many of them believe in santa claus—conversation topics with jeonghan are limitless, he talks to you about everything under the sun. sometimes, those beyond it too.

‘it’s to keep you on your toes’, he once stated when you criticized his very questionable topics.

as you ignore his cool breath on your nape and his warm fingertips on your stomach, some parts of your mind are attempting to follow the instruction manual laid out in front of you, while most of it are busy wondering about jeonghan’s query.

“if i ask you to marry me,” he casually pecks the sides of your neck while he asks, “you’ll say yes, right?”

you feel him gently pull you closer so you’re completely leaning back on his chest, an arm lazily draped on your waist tucking you in.

“are you sure you won’t get sick of me?” you teasingly squint up at him to lessen the load his serious question put on you.

“are you sure you won’t get sick of me?” you teasingly squint up at him to lessen the load his serious question put on you.

and you pray he didn’t hear the underlying worry because you never expected him to bring up marriage 3 years in the relationship. you didn’t expect him to bring it up at all.

he flicks a finger on your forehead and you yelp both in surprise and in pain.

“that’s impossible.” jeonghan scoffs as if you just said the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard in his entire life. “i love you this much already today with your scowls and temper, so trust me, babe, it’d be much easier for me to love you with wrinkles and weak knees.” he cheekily professes while pinching your nose.

you grunt and give his hand a slight slap in which he only laughs at in amusement and satisfaction, “see? case on point.”

even with his silly remark, jeonghan notices a slight frown present in the curved corners of your mouth. he gently lets you go from his hug and moves closer in front of you instead, so that your knees touch and his face is a breath away from yours.

“tell me, how will i get sick of this when my favorite thing to do is loving you? hm?“ jeonghan whispers.

“lies. building these stupid blocks are your favorite thing to do.” you feign sulking.

“first of all, they’re not stupid. second of all, just shut up and kiss me.” jeonghan mumbles before leaning into you, the smile you feel on his mouth giving you the reassurance you didn’t even know you needed.

ah, there’s my jeonghan, a giggle bubbles from your chest.

you remove his hands from you to sit upright and cross your arms.

“but what if i say no?” you challenge him even though there’s already a silent, mutual agreement that you will, without a doubt, say yes to marrying him if he asks. when he asks.

jeonghan being the jeonghan that he his, the one that never backs down, he mocks your pose with pure smugness written all over his face, “of course you won’t say no to me. you said yes to me three years ago, what makes you think i can’t make you do it again now?”

“i said no to you four times.” you emphasize the number as you recalled an incredibly charming but very insistent jeonghan, who, according to his own words, was sparing you from making an unwise decision by not taking no for an answer when he was asking you out.

“well i still made you say yes, didn’t i?” jeonghan argues and throws a lego brick he picked up on the floor at your leg.

“you did. unfortunately.” you jokingly say under your breath as you pick it up and go back to the unfinished castle.

jeonghan sees a smile lingering on your face, and although it’s at the expense of his younger self, your happiness is disarming. with all the knowledge he has, he still has no idea how you managed to take down the walls that he carefully built over the years when he met you.

you’re too preoccupied by putting the plastic pieces of lego together to notice the fondest look jeonghan’s giving you at the side. you’re so endearing he can’t look away, affectionate admiration seen in his eyes while he memorizes each expression you make when you’re focused. his heart swells when his ears catch a song he’s never heard before but might be his favorite now that you’re softly singing it.

yeah, i’m in this forever. jeonghan nods to himself.

and suddenly, the weight of the velvet box sitting in the deep pocket of his sweatpants felt lighter.

…maybe this conversation isn’t over just yet.

[hattywatch]

J. Vesey - July for the Whole Year 4

A/N: Chapter 4. Tell a friend to tell a friend. Comments, critique, and conjecture encouraged. Jimmy's looking so fine these days y'all. NYC agrees with him.

<< Chapter 3

March 2020

Jimmy: The season is going to pause, wish I was back in ny. We’d have nothing but time to catch up on GoT now.

Like I’d let you in my bubble. 

Jimmy: Who are you kidding, I’m the best bubble partner. 

No comment. :P

______

April 2020

Do you have toilet paper, should I send you some? You never remember until it’s too late.

Jimmy: lol, my mom sent me some. Good looking out. 

______

“I’ll tell you when to hit play! Don’t hit it without me!” It’s makeshift for sure, but you figured out how to watch Netflix together over video chat. Everyone has been going crazy over this Tiger King show and there’s literally nothing else to do, so what’s the harm. You haven’t seen another human in about two weeks, save when you went to the grocery store to pick up some essentials for Mr. Callahan and he waved at you as you left the package outside his door. Even that was exciting contact. Plus you’re missing Jimmy extra.

“I cannot believe you talked me into this. This looks like the dumbest thing I have ever seen.”

His laugh, you’ve missed that laugh so much. Your cheeks hurt as your smile stretches, “I miss you so much.” You don’t mean the words to blurt out like they do; honest and out there for him to hear, read into, draw conclusions from. 

Jimmy’s face is a welcomed sight, so your smile doesn’t even falter when he pokes at you. “Oh my Godddd. Shut up! You get to pick the next one. Probably going to make me watch something Boston, so I have to listen to that terrible accent for hours on end.”

______

“Yeah, me too. Like a limb,” his smile is a little soft, a little sad, but he’s Jimmy and he’s notoriously stoic, so he straightens up on his couch and grabs his remote, “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

 

May 2020

Who do we cheer for now, Brady, Kevin? An unknown third party?

Jimmy: I’m gunna flip a coin. Tampa looks good though, hate to say it. 

Gross.

______

October 2020

Jimmy: You gunna to visit me when the borders open back up? It’s pretty cool up here, I think you’d like it. 

Only if you’re paying for Tim Hortons. 

Jimmy: Not with this contract.

______

December 2020

Jimmy: Did you get a package 👀👀

I have to check the mailroom when I get home, why?? Did you buy me something! 🙃

Jimmy: Maybe. Keep an eye out.  

______

As soon as you get in the building you rush to the mailroom and it’s there. A plain brown Amazon box, but when you open it, there's another box inside, shabbily wrapped in blue paper, tied in a white ribbon. 

You snap a photo and send it to Jimmy, 

It's here! Proud of your wrapping tbh!

Tucked under the ribbon, you start with the envelope, pulling out the Christmas card. It features a cartoon Santa proudly proclaiming "I hear there's some Hos in this house?" shaking a judgmental finger at the naughty list in his hand. 

Jimmy's tight, sloppy handwriting covers the inside of the card and your smile grows, happy he thought of you enough to fill the left panel of the card entirely with a handwritten message. 

When you finally tear the ribbon off and the paper open you're not surprised to see the bright blue jersey with the Leafs insignia on it. You are slightly surprised that Jimmy's name is across the back and his number is on the sleeve. You're warm to your toes thinking about him branding you in this way, even if you also have Kevin's jersey in the back of your closet and have never had a second thought about Hayes being stitched across your back. 

(Y/n),

I thought you'd like this card, since I've seen your Spotify unwrapped and you've played this song more than any one person should. Freak. 

Here's a new jersey so you can remember who your favorite player is. I had to change my number, which sucks, but I can't have you representing Philly. That's gross and blue looks way better on you anyway.

I know I said I couldn't afford Timmies on this contract, but here’s a bag anyway. Their coffee is really good and I don’t know when the country will re-open so you can visit and get a real one. I got you plain, French Vanilla is superior though. Even if you disagree. 

We can’t have you embarrassing yourself at family skate again, so I hope these are the right size. Take them to the rink when it opens, have the blades sharpened and the skates baked. They’ll fit your feet better and they won’t hurt as much. Whenever I get to come visit we’ll practice.

Hope you like it, miss you. 

Merry Christmas, 

Jimmy

The skates do fit. He got you hockey ones so they’re chunky and black and not at all the sleek ice skating ones the rinks usually give you when you rent them. It’s so Jimmy that your heart skips at the idea of him spending time, thinking of a thoughtful gift, trying to figure out your damned shoe size, and wrapping the box alone in his apartment. 

You’re not sure when you started sniffling, but the card is damp from the few tears that have slid down your face and you laugh in spite of yourself. The distance definitely hasn’t made any of this easier. 

This is really thoughtful. I can’t wait to try them out. <3

Jimmy: You’re crying, aren’t you?

______

January 2021

Jimmy: Did you listen to this new Drivers License song yet? Seems up your alley. 

RED LIGHTS STOP SIGNS!!!

Jimmy: I’ll take that as a yes.

______

The phone only rings once before he answers. “Hello?” His camera is facing the ceiling, so you can’t see his face, but it looks like he’s eating lunch.

“Watch Bridgerton with me?” it’s not really a whine, but it’s a little pitchy. He heaves a sigh and he picks up the phone so he’s finally in frame, munching on his pizza. You continue before he has the chance to turn you down, “Please? Everyone at work is talking about it, it’s only 8 episodes, please? You made me watch all those Ben Affleck movies last year! I barely even complained even though Matt’s the better actor.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m off Sunday we can start it then,” he tears into a piece of crust. 

Smiling, you remind him, “You’re my best friend,” before you hang up and send him a calendar invite. 

______

March 2021

Jimmy: I take it back, you’d like Vancouver better. 

Missing me, Jimbo?

Jimmy: Maybe

______

July 2021

With restrictions eased up, you find yourself toying with the idea of a weekend trip to Boston. You’ve typed out about 60 messages to Jimmy telling him you may be in town, but you backspaced each and every one, because you’re a coward. 

You haven’t been in the same state in almost two years, stuck video chatting during lock down, which has become a weekly ritual that you haven’t dropped since the world began slowly opening back up. Still though, something about seeing him in person has your heart rate picking up and your palms sweating.

In the end you sleepily reveal it when Jimmy calls you to say goodnight.

Your phone jingled loudly in your ear, you could probably put it on silent while you slept, but then you'd miss these calls, Jimmy's profile picture smiling on your screen before you answer and clear your throat.

"Hey," you sigh into your pillow at the content feeling that blankets your body. 

"Hey, I'm walking home from the bar and I wanted to say goodnight."

"Okay, goodnight," you're quietly breathing into the phone, smiling to yourself at the sweet gesture. 

He laughs, "ooookay, you don't want to talk to me? You already asleep?"

"A little, but I always want to talk to you." You'll be embarrassed by your admission in the morning. In the dark it's just honest and you feel light saying it out loud. 

He's quiet now and you hear the cars passing him by as he walks. 

"I haven't seen you in forever," he trails off and your decision is practically made for you.

"I'm thinking about taking the day off Friday and shipping up to Boston for the weekend, but the hotels are so much money" you're slightly more awake now, nervous for some reason that you both will feel differently in person since it's been so long. 

He takes in a breath, "Do it. You can stay with me." 

"Okay," it's Jimmy, it's Jimmy, it's Jimmy- your heart thumps. No reason to be nervous. 

"Okay!" You can hear his smile through the phone and when you both hang up you slip easily back into sleep. 

______

Jimmy's laughter booms through your headphones, "What do you mean 'what if you don't recognize me?' We video chat like every day you know what I look like."

You're feeling silly and giddy and bubbly only 2 hours away from Boston according to your itinerary. 

"I should like, bring a red rose like Lorelei and Rory do in Gilmore Girls, just in case. So you know who I am." You look out the window in the train, watching the landscape blaze by. 

"Any excuse to bring up the fuckin' Gilmore Girls. I'm sure we'll be okay."

"I'm hanging up on you, you interrupted my music and now you're slandering the Gilmores. See you soon."

You cut off whatever he was about to say and hang up, cackling with delight as he calls you back immediately. 

"This is (y/n), how can I assist?"

"I can't stand you. When is 'soon?'"

"Two hours. You better be ready to eat. I'm starving."

"Okay, soon."

______

South Station is pretty empty, which you expected considering it's noon on a Friday. You try to call Jimmy but his phone goes to voicemail both times you call, so you stand and wait, knowing he'd never leave you hanging, so you find a bench and open your phone, scrolling through mindlessly. 

Someone sits down next to you so you slide a little to the left without looking up wondering if you should call Jimmy again, but the person clears their throat and shoves a bouquet of roses at you. 

Pushing them to the side you see Jimmy's smiling face. "I figured it's been a while, maybe one rose wouldn't do the trick if you forgot what I looked like."

In that moment, Jimmy smiling at you in a train station at 12 on a Friday, it takes everything in you not to lean over and kiss him square on the mouth. 

______

"So what do you want to do today?" Jimmy says around a mouthful of sushi. Between you and Kevin constantly shoving your rolls at him, he's by no means an aficionado, but he's come around. 

"I don't know. Last time I was here we did a bunch of touristy things," you pause chopsticks halfway to your mouth, "Show me Harvard."

Jimmy's too happy to oblige. 

The two of you pile into his Jeep and drive to Cambridge, stopping briefly to grab coffee. "I used to come here all the time," Jimmy places his order and lets you keep looking, "sit at that table and try to finish my papers before midnight. Is it weird that I miss it?"

"Not at all," you confirm. His eyes are fond and you're happy you're here to see this version of him. "Can I have the same?" You place your order to the young girl behind the counter, her glasses are wide and her chemistry book is sat next to her, pages face down, spine bent to save her place. 

"You're going to hate it, it's sweet," Jimmy warns, but you shrug your shoulders and nod to the barista to continue making your copy of Jimmy's nostalgic order. 

______

You spend your day traversing the campus, being suitably impressed by the history and slightly in awe by the IQs you're surrounded by. The art museum is a particular delight- full of classic Van Goghs, Degas, and Stieglitzes, but also housing fine Japanese art, Buddhist statues, and textiles you haven't seen before. 

He sidles up behind you quietly and you don't realize until he whispers, bent down and leaning over your shoulder, "Four years here and I never came in here. Kinda crazy."

Swatting him you answer, "Uncultured swine," and grab his hand to pull him to the next room.

It's full of earlier photography, and you stop in front of Stieglitz's The Glow of Night, depicting an empty street, glowing in the evening; only a few horse-drawn carriages sit in the distance under the glow of the streetlights. 

"I miss New York," Jimmy mumbles under his breath.

Your eyebrows raise, "You're Boston through and through, I can't believe you just said that outloud." 

He shrugs, "I love it here, I do. But I guess I miss the early years. Us and the boys, young and stupid." 

He sounds doleful and it stings your heart. "I think we all miss that," you reply gently, hand looping through his arm. 

"Do you think you'd ever move," it's close to the topic at hand, but a distinct deviation, so you think on it, staring intently at the photo in front of you. 

"I don't know. A few years ago I'd have said never..." Jimmy nods, seemingly content with your answer, but looks at his phone and notices the time. 

"C'mon. They're going to close soon, let's go home."

You're not home. 

You're about 200 miles away to be exact, but it certainly doesn't feel that way. 

______

Sunday morning you're sat in a hole in the wall getting breakfast with Jimmy. Your train leaves in the late afternoon and Jimmy's trying to pack as much into the day as he can, so you appreciate the quiet time at the table with him. 

He's fidgeting a little and you can't take it, a little on edge from the close proximity of the weekend. 

"Just take the bed!" He's not shouting but it's definitely as close as you've ever seen him to being short of patience. 

"No! You're letting me stay for free! I saved so much money not staying in a hotel, I'll sleep out here!" 

Jimmy picks up your bags and tosses them onto his bed. "Night! There's clean towels in the bathroom. Shout if you need anything." He gently pushes you into his room and closes the door behind you. 

His bed is plush and you snuggle in after huffing at your defeat, washing your face, and changing into your pajamas. You would have thought you'd fall asleep quickly, a long day of travel followed by a ton of walking typically tires you out, but you're in Jimmy's bed. 

You're in Jimmy's bed and it smells like him.

You're in Jimmy's bed and it smells like him and you're having a crisis. 

"Do you think you'd ever move?" His question replays in your mind. 

A few summers ago you told Gracia never, but you're not so sure that you couldn't be easily persuaded if the right person asked.

"You're ignoring me." Jimmy flicks your coffee cup. The tinkling noise pills you from your daydream and you shake your head. 

"Sorry, what?"

"I said," He repeats himself, "I'm a free agent in the fall… maybe I'll end up on the East Coast and we can do this more often…" he smirks, "you know, having breakfast and you ignoring me." 

Desperately you wish you were annoyed at his teasing, but you can't find it in you, "That would actually be awesome. Is that a possibility?" 

Stirring too much sugar into his coffee he looks optimistic, “Anything is possible.”

[luvdsc]

august.

Bad habits are hard to break, and you’ve made a terrible one of loving him.

pairing :: liu yangyang x reader genre :: fluff, angst ⋮ best friend + college au word count :: 10,500 words warnings :: none. playlist :: time lapse (taeyeon) ⋆ 2 kids (taemin) ⋆ daydreams (exes) ⋆ sharing you (lany) ⋆ august (taylor swift) ⋆ too close to love (will hyde) ⋆ sad stripped (lany) ⋆ strangers (taemin) ⋆ the 1 (taylor swift) author’s note :: can you believe that i literally wrote this entire 10k fic in one day aka today ??? whew this gave me the same rush that i got when i wrote my research paper in the class it was due for the day of, printed it out during break, and handed it in at the end of class :’) ↳ part of the almost collaboration series.

Liu Yangyang is jumping fences to escape late night parties, shared laughter over childhood favorite cartoons on February mornings, midnight dancing in the refrigerator light, and November kisses stolen in between the shelves of the nearby 7-Eleven. He is obscure doodles in the margins of your physics notes, good intentions laced in December’s mistakes, strawberry lemonade and broken truths wrapped in summer bliss, and September endings with honest lies.

He is your August, he is your everything, but he isn’t yours.

AUGUST 2018.

August has barely begun to fade away.

You’re eighteen years old, and you’re drunk off of your first taste of freedom, one toe already dipping into the shiny pleasures of adulthood. Your new roommate, Karina, has excitedly told you about the famous beach night themed frat party that kick starts every school year at your university. Everybody who’s anybody would be there, and your heart already races at the thought of going to your very first college party.

“Coral or blue?” Karina holds up a solid colored neon blue bikini and a striped, bright pink one for you to choose between.

“Blue.” You nod towards the first option, and she discards the other one back into the open drawer. You pull out a marigold yellow one and a black one lined with white strings, wordlessly gesturing towards them, and she immediately points to the latter.

“That one is gonna look so cute on you. Well, both would, but I love that one.”

You grin at her, silently thanking whoever decided to pair the two of you together for the random dorming. “Perfect, thanks. Do you know any of the guys hosting the party?”

“Yeah, Dejun? He’s really sweet and a year above us. I met him in the music elective I’m taking.” She turns to take off her shirt and tosses it to the side, pulling on her bikini and wriggling into a pair of ripped jean shorts. “You?”

“Kind of? Jaemin is in my project group in Intro to Engineering. He’s rushing for that frat.” You quickly change out of your outfit and into your chosen swim top and daisy dukes. You make sure to grab a pair of black flip flops from your closet. The bundle of nerves in your stomach grows as you step out of your dorm with your new friend, a bit anxious but also excited to attend your very first party.

Thank goodness for summer weather. It’s still a nice, warm 75 degrees Fahrenheit according to your weather app when you and Karina finally make your way to the frat house. The sun barely begins to set, but the party slash dayger had started earlier and is in full swing. There’s a DJ set up out front, blasting some sort of EDM music, and the lawn is absolutely covered in foam. You see the source of it shakily set up on the roof of the patio along with a couple of boys sitting up there, Hawaiian shirts barely covering their figures. You catch the eye of Jaemin, who happily waves at you from his vantage point, and you wave back at him.

“Oh my god, I love college,” Karina says, grabbing your arm excitedly as the two of you step into the foam. You reach down to pick up some of it before flicking it towards your roommate, who squeals before scooping some up and throwing it in your direction as well.

“Ready for our first shitty college drink?” You pull her through the mass of other students and towards the horribly decorated tiki bar stationed in the corner of the patio.

“Hell yeah, let’s do it.”

The two of you stumble over, still throwing handfuls of foam at each other amidst giggles before making a full stop in front of the bar. The older boy behind the makeshift counter lazily grins at you both, a shell necklace hanging loosely around his neck, and his unbuttoned orange Hawaiian shirt gives you a nice flash of his toned abs.

“Hey, I’m Johnny. What can I get for you two?”

“Two vodka shots, please.”

“Alright, ID?”

You freeze, and Karina’s grip on your arm tightens, and then Johnny laughs, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Relax, I’m just messing with you, freshie. Two vodka shots coming right up.”

He pulls out two small plastic cups and pours out the drinks for you. “How many do you want?”

“This is good for now, thanks.” You and Karina pick up the drinks, smiling a little nervously at him. He flashes another amused smile at you. “Alright, come back anytime if you want another.”

You move away from the patio, and Karina follows close behind. The two of you throw back the drinks and dispose of the empty cups quickly. The burning sensation in your throat disappears after a few seconds, and you turn to your roommate. “Should we find our friends?”

“I think I see Dejun back there! Let’s go say hi, I can introduce you to him.” Karina drags you through the rising foam, the bubbles clinging to your skin, and when you go past the DJ stand, you feel the pounding bass reverberating in your chest harder than ever. You trek past the gate and into the backyard where the foam has risen to your waist, thanks to the enclosed fences. She taps on the shoulder of a boy with the prettiest almond eyes you have ever seen, and you shyly smile at him when he greets you.

“Hey, I’m Dejun.”

Oh my god, even his voice sounds pretty. Older college boys are definitely better and hotter than high school boys. Heck, they’re better than freshman boys. Nobody wants to date a freshman dude, not even the freshman girls.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You extend your hand, but then realize how stupid that must be. You hastily start to retract your hand, but he laughs and warmly grasps your hand. Smiling at you, he shakes it firmly, squeezing your hand gently before letting go.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

The butterflies in your stomach grow in volume as the conversation goes on, and you’re positively enamored by the end of the night. Karina had given you a look earlier before walking off with Dejun’s friend and joining the dancing crowd. With the addition of his phone number in your pocket and a promise to show you a new song he’s working on with his guitar next Friday, you’re walking on cloud nine.

“Do you want something to drink? I need a refill, and I can go grab you one,” he asks, and you’re about to offer to go with him, but then you remember the teasing upperclassman and simply agree, asking for another shot of vodka.

After he disappears, you look around, eyeing the crowd and wondering if you can spot your roommate anywhere. You bump into someone lightly and turn around to apologize. Your eyes meet a pair of curiously bright ones.

“Sorry about that, I’m looking for my roomie.”

The boy gives you a Cheshire Cat grin. He’s wearing one of those dumb Hawaiian shirts, too, and it’s unbuttoned, but he has a white T-shirt layered underneath it. “No biggie, it’s a massive party and it’s crowded. Who are you looking for?”

“Ah, I don’t know if you know her, but Karina? She went off with this dude, Kunhang, I think?”

His eyes light up at that name. “Oh, I know him! I saw him earlier by the keg stands inside. Your friend might be there, too. I can—”

“THE COPS ARE COMING!” A loud voice bellows, and you freeze up. Suddenly, the music is shut off as everyone starts running away. You start to panic, the terror rising in your chest, and the boy in front of you grabs your hand and pulls you with him. “What are you doing?! Don’t just stand there! We gotta go!”

“Wait, but Kar—” You start to object, but cut yourself off when you bump into his back as he abruptly stops. He scans the backyard, quickly assessing the situation before turning to you.

“There’s way too many people trapped in here, we’re not gonna make it to the gate. We need to climb over the fence. I’ll hoist you up, and you can help me up from there.”

“I don’t even know you,” you protest, and he throws you a look.

“Hi, I’m Yangyang, nice to meet you, I don’t want to get my ass hauled out by the police and continue the icebreakers in jail, so let’s move now. We good?”

“Yeah, okay, we’re good,” you say faintly, mind still whirling around as you try to grasp the situation. “I’m Y/N.”

“Great, now up you go.”

He immediately picks you up without any warning, and you almost fall backwards, arms flailing before you grasp the top of the fence and pull yourself up. Balancing precariously on top of it, you grab his arm, tugging him up until he’s sitting right next to you, too. The both of you swing your legs over the fence and jump down to the other side. You let out a sigh of relief, squatting down as you clutch your heart.

“Oh my god, we made it. I didn’t get arrested at my first party.”

“What an amazing accomplishment.” Yangyang brushes off the back of his shorts. “We aren’t going to jail. Freshman year is gonna be a breeze if your bar is set this low.”

“Hey!” You frown at him, standing up and crossing your arms over your chest. “How do you know I’m a freshman?”

“It’s written all over your face.” You give him a look, and he relents. “Only a freshman would be this scared of getting caught.”

“So are you an upperclassman?”

“Nah, this is my first party, too. I’m rushing for Nu Chi. Hold on, wait here.” He sneaks around the edge of the fence, peering around for a few seconds before jogging back towards you. “Okay, the police are over there. I’m gonna have to wait a while before going back in.”

“You have to go back?”

“Part of tonight’s rush process,” he sighs before turning to you. “Do you live on campus?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna walk back now,” you answer, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “It’s late, and I’m not in a partying mood anymore.”

“I can walk you back,” he offers, and you shoot him a grateful smile.

“That’d be great, thanks.”

The two of you start the trek back, an awkward lull in the conversation making itself known. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering slightly when a soft breeze picks up. There’s a light rustling noise, and you pay no mind to it until a soft cloth is draped over your shoulders. Eyes widening, you notice the colorful, palm tree-printed button down shirt wrapped around you and the boy next to you, looking straight ahead with his hands shoved into his pockets. Smiling to yourself, you slip on the shirt, loosely buttoning the front of it.

“So, Yangyang,” you casually begin, testing his name on your tongue for the first time. You decide you like it. It’s cute. He turns to you, raising an eyebrow, and you continue, “Since our lives are no longer in jeopardy, we can continue the icebreakers, right?”

His lips curve into a smile. “Alright, shoot. What’s your first question?”

“Captain America or Iron Man?”

“Oh, Iron Man, hands down. He’s so…”

You meet him in August.

FEBRUARY 2019.

“Hey, where’s your cereal? The Reese’s one?”

February marks six months of your relationship with Dejun. It also marks six months of your friendship with Yangyang. It is time for your weekly Sunday rituals of watching old cartoons and eating breakfast, and you could’ve sworn that box was still half full last week. You rummage through the top drawer Yangyang had designated for snacks and other foods in his dorm as he takes out the milk from his mini fridge and carries it over to his desk.

“I ran out a few days ago. There’s Cinnamon Toast Crunch somewhere in there though.”

With a victorious cry, you manage to pull out the slightly crushed box of the aforementioned cereal from underneath the packages of flamin’ hot Cheetos and spicy nacho Doritos and triumphantly bring it over to your best friend. He already pulls out two bowls (which were stolen from the dining hall) and hands over the plastic spoons in his grasp (which was also taken from the dining hall).

“Thanks.” After dropping a spoon into each bowl, you shake out the sugary cereal squares before pouring the milk because you’re not an absolute heathen who puts milk in first, like Sicheng. Yangyang clambers up to his top bunk bed, and you carefully pass over the two bowls of cereal, milk sloshing precariously near the edges. You climb up afterwards, and he gives you your bowl once you settle down.

“So, Scooby Doo or Pokémon?”

“Mm, we watched Pokémon last Sunday already, so let’s do Scooby Doo this time.” He nods in agreement, pulling up the cartoon from the queue in Netflix, and the two of you lean back against the ginormous mound of pillows and stuffed animals of his that occupy nearly half of his bed.

You’re shoveling a spoonful of cereal into your mouth when he casually asks, “So how’re you and Dejun doing?”

Choking slightly, you quickly swallow. “We’re doing good. I think he booked a table at the Italian restaurant down the street for Valentine’s Day. Are you doing anything for Valentine’s?”

“I’m forcing Renjun to come watch that “‘Happy Death Day’ movie with me.” The faint sounds of the Scooby Doo theme song plays in the background as you hum in acknowledgement, mouth twisting into a mischievous smirk.

“That’s so sweet. So who confessed to who? Not gonna lie, I thought you had a crush on Hyuck, not Jun.”

“... I would shove you right now, but I just did my laundry, and rewashing my comforter is expensive and I’m out of quarters.”

You stick your tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes before lifting his bowl up to sip the best part of having Cinnamon Toast Crunch: the milk infused with all the cinnamony, sugary goodness. You let your spoon fall back into your bowl with a soft clink, a sudden worrying thought popping into your head.

“I bought him some customized guitar picks and a pretty composition book. Do you think he’ll like it?”

“That’s a pretty basic gift, isn’t it? It feels like something Kun would get him,” he teases, but his heart falls when he notices you chewing on your bottom lip, spoon held limply in your hand.

“Hey, I’m just joking, of course he would like it. He’s completely whipped. He’ll love anything from you.” Yangyang’s voice grows softer, and he fiddles with a stray thread on his comforter, avoiding eye contact with you. “I know I would.”

He looks up slightly and sees you smiling gratefully at him, eyes shining bright. He quickly ducks his head, turning away slightly to hide the hues of pink blooming on his cheeks. He feels you leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder with a quiet sigh, and his breath hitches in his throat.

“Thanks, Yang.”

Replaying the sight of your smile in his mind makes his stomach flip flop, and he resists the overwhelming urge to tell you you’re pretty, pushing it back into the farthest crevice of his mind.  Your head on his shoulder makes him feel like he’s carrying the entire world, and he doesn’t know what to do. He paints on a tight smile of his own, silently hoping you can’t hear the way his heart nearly pounds out of his chest.

Yangyang knows that having feelings for his best friend, specifically one of his good friends’ girlfriends, is something he absolutely should not be doing, but he can’t help it. His stupid heart refuses to listen to his brain. For now, all he can do is desperately hope that this dumb crush of his goes away soon because while 99% of his friends are oblivious (including you), Ten and Donghyuck are not. They’ll be able to spot his feelings from a mile away, like how Kun always knows when there’s a good sale going on at the Asian supermarket downtown (This week, it was the 50% off bean sprouts and chili paste).

Letting out an inaudible sigh, Yangyang carefully rests his head on top of yours. Clutching the empty bowl with one hand, he shoves his other one under his thigh to stop himself from reaching over and tangling his fingers with yours. He stares at the screen, watching until the bright colors blur together.

“Anytime.”

He likes you in February.

AUGUST 2019.

The earth spins around the sun for another time, and August makes its presence known once again. It’s Thursday night, and you’re sitting on the countertop in Nu Chi Theta’s kitchen, swinging your legs back and forth as Yangyang struggles to make some scrambled eggs because the half filled carton of eggs the two of you managed to find is the only thing that isn’t expired (besides Jeno’s protein shakes, but neither of you are gonna touch that cardboard tasting monstrosity).

“Maybe I should make it.” You peer over at the frying pan, wincing when you see the full damage of your future meal. “Did you use oil?”

“Of course I did!” he exclaims indignantly before pitifully pushing around the nearly charred mess of yolk and whites around with his spatula. “I’m not Mark.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, waving your hand around to dissipate the acrid burning smell, and Yangyang throws you a dirty look. He grabs a fork and stabs a small chunk of the eggs. Picking it up, he brings it closer to his mouth before hesitating. His eyes dart to you, and you raise your eyebrows at him, a silent challenge in your gaze. The sad piece of egg hovers in the air for a few more seconds before he defeatedly drops it back into the pan.

“Okay, what if we just Uber Eats some McDonald’s?” Turning off the stove, he then tosses the remnants of his cooking into the trash and drops the pan into the sink.

“Stellar plan. Best idea you’ve had all night.” You hop off the counter to stand next to him, propping your chin on his shoulder to see him pull up the app. He immediately puts in your usual order along with his before holding it up for you to see it better.

“Looks good?”

“Looks perfect.”

He clicks the confirmation button, and the delivery is set to come in 30 minutes. You’re suddenly hyper aware of how close you are with your chest pressed against his back and hastily move away, warmth spreading across your cheeks.

Glancing over at your best friend, you don't miss the way Yangyang smiles down at something on his phone before his fingers fly across the screen. When he looks up, you immediately turn away, focusing your eyes on anything but him.

“Hey, you’re going to the Alpha Sig formal, right?” Yangyang calls out, and you throw on a teasing grin.

“You mean Alpha Sigma Psi, also known as the sorority I’m in?”

“Ah, right, yeah.” He flushes, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “But you’re going, right?”

You nod, the sudden realization creeping up on you. “Oh yeah, I am, thanks for reminding me. I completely forgot to ask, but do you want t—”

“Ningning just asked me to go with her,” Yangyang blurts out, and you freeze, failing to hide your shock for a split second before you regain your composure.

“Oh wow, that’s great, Yang! I’ll see you there then.” You try to give him a convincing smile. He wrings his hands, biting his bottom lip. Something is on his mind. You can tell. He’s not someone to hold back with his words, but this time, he is.

“I… I don’t know if I’m gonna go,” he says at last. Your heart picks up a little at that. Does that mean he doesn’t want to go to the dance at all? Or does he not want to go with Ningning? If you asked him now, would it make a difference?

“I’ve never slow danced,” he confesses, leaning against the opposite counter, and your heart drops. So that was it. Of course, he wouldn’t reject Ningning. She’s an absolute goddess, heck, you wouldn’t say no if she asked you either. You stamp out that last flicker of hope.

“What if I suck at it?” he continues, absentmindedly carding his fingers through his hair. “Oh god, I bet Yukhei and Kunhang are never gonna let me live it down. I can do choreographed dances, but I’m gonna mess up over a stupid slow dance. But where am I supposed to put my hands?! Like on her shoulders? Her waist? Do I hold her hand?”

Your eyes follow the way his hair ruffles slightly, and you wonder if it’s as soft as it looks. You swallow hard before saying quietly, “I can teach you?”

His hand pauses mid-movement, and your eyes fly down to meet his. His eyes widen, and he contemplates your offer for a split second before nodding excitedly. “Yeah, that’d be great! Can you teach me right now? While we wait for our food to come!”

“S-sure,” you stammer, flustered at the sudden acceptance and his eagerness. “Um, here? In the kitchen?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugs before straightening up. “The lights should be dimmed, right? We can kind of mimic that here to set the mood or whatever.”

He goes over and fiddles with the light switch, flicking it on and off, and you laugh, walking over and placing your hand over his. “What are you doing? Some kind of Kevin Nguyen mating call to look for a rave bae?”

“First off, I’m offended that you think I’d be one of them,” Yangyang narrows his eyes at you. “Secondly, I’m trying to make this feel more formal dance-y. Oh, wait!”

He turns off the lights for the last time and reaches over to pull open the refrigerator doors, the artificial fluorescent light pouring out and mixing with the faint beams coming in through the window from the street lamps outside. He grins at you, satisfied. “Romantic, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but the amused smile on your face gives away your true feelings. “Wow, Romeo, you swept me off my feet. The food is gonna go bad, and Kun is gonna kill you for the high electricity bill.”

“What food? Jeno’s protein shakes probably never expire.” He snorts before standing closer to you, his hands resting on either side of you on the counter. You can see the pretty gold flecks in his irises, and your breath gets caught in your throat. “And I guess this means you gotta teach me fast before we waste more electricity, right?”

You place your hands on his chest and lightly push him away, and he laughs, stepping back. You let out a shaky breath, remembering that your lungs need oxygen in order to, you know, continue living.

“Okay,” you clear your throat before pulling out your phone and putting on a slow song. “Ready?”

“You chose Ed Sheeran? Thinking Out Loud? Really?”

You raise your hands up defensively. “Hey, he’s the king of sappy slow songs that all girls want to be played at their weddings for their first dance.”

When your legs don't work like they used to before,

And I can't sweep you off of your feet,

Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?

Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?

“Is this the song you want played at your wedding?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and your face grows warm. You ignore the question, and this time, you’re the one taking a bold step forward, a few centimeters now separating you and your best friend. You see his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps lightly before meeting your eyes.

And darling, I will be loving you 'til we're seventy,

And baby, my heart could still fall as hard at twenty-three,

And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways.

“So, your hands go here.” You take his hands and place them on either side of your waist. His arms freeze up. “Relax, Yang. Precious cargo here.”

He lets out a chuckle, loosening his grip as he starts to relax. You reach up and slide your arms around his neck, interlocking your fingers. You gaze back at him, saying softly, “Now pull me closer.”

He does so.

Maybe just the touch of a hand,

Oh me I fall in love with you every single day,

And I just wanna tell you I am.

“And now follow my lead. We’re going to take one step. And then another. We’re just slowly turning in a circle.”

After a few spins and steps, you stop leading and let yourself be led. Yangyang continues to hold onto you carefully, and you can hear him muttering a 1, 2, 3, 4 count under his breath until he finally gets the hang of it. He grows a little braver, pulling you even closer.

So honey now,

Take me into your loving arms,

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars.

“Are you going with Dejun?” he asks quietly, and you stiffen at the mention at him before shaking your head.

“No, we broke up in July.”

Yangyang falters in his step before recovering. “Oh. You never told me.”

“Yeah.” You struggle to keep your voice level. “I just… he’s your friend, and I didn’t want to make it weird.”

“You’re my best friend though,” he says firmly, looking you directly in the eyes. His grip on your waist tightens. “It’s his loss. That dumbass just lost the best person who’ll ever come into his life.”

You give him a tired half smile, one that doesn’t quite meet your eyes. He hugs you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and securing you against his chest. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and hope that he doesn’t feel how quickly your heart beats in your chest.

Place your head on my beating heart,

I'm thinking out loud,

Maybe we found love right where we are.

“Thanks, Yang,” you whisper, your breath tickling his skin. He envelops you tightly, and the two of you continue to spin in slow circles, quietly dancing in the refrigerator light as the remaining verses of the song warble in the background.

You think you finally understand what Dejun meant when he said he’s breaking up with you because your heart was already occupied by someone else.

You fall in love with him in August.

NOVEMBER 2019.

[ 12:54 a.m. ] yang 🐏🤪: hey you up?

[ 12:54 a.m. ] yang 🐏🤪: 7/11 in ten mins?

Tiredly rubbing your eyes, you stumble out of your dorm building, one of Jeno’s sweaters draped over your figure. November nights are cold, but this one seems chillier than usual. Yangyang stands near the front steps, and he stiffens up when he notices whose hoodie you’re wearing. He makes no mention of it though when you join him.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He glances over to you as the two of you walk side by side to the small convenience store just on the edge of campus. You shake your head, shoving your hands into the front pocket of your sweater.

“I was up cramming for midterms. I could use a break anyway,” you shrug. A wisp of your hair falls in your face, and Yangyang starts to reach out to fix it, but forces himself to keep his hand by his side. You reach out to carelessly brush it away, tucking it behind your ear.

“What about you?” You look over at him, noting the bags under his eyes. “Rough night?”

He smiles tiredly at you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he kicks a stray pebble along the sidewalk. “More like rough week. Two more midterms left, and they’re for electromagnetic theory and linear systems.”

“Oh god, good luck. I took linear systems today, and it was absolutely brutal.” You wince, brightening up when you see the familiar neon orange, red, and green lights up ahead.

“Maybe I should just withdraw and take it again next quarter,” your best friend grumbles, kicking the stone as far as he possibly can.

“You really want another quarter with Hwang?”

“You’re right,” he sighs, “I just need to get a C+ to maintain my GPA. C if I’m pushing it.”

The two of you hurry over to the 7-Eleven, quickening your pace, until you reach the store doors, and you pull them open. Entering quickly, you push the door open slightly wider, and Yangyang slips in behind you. The cashier doesn’t even look up, texting away on his phone. You make a beeline towards the chips aisle, grabbing a bag of flamin’ hot Cheetos and a pack of sour gummy worms.

“What are you getting, Yang?” You call out over your shoulder, eyes zeroing in on the Red Bull stand at the end of the aisle. When you hear no response, you halt in your steps, turning around. Yangyang stands in the middle of the aisle, looking dazed under the fluorescent lights.

Putting your items back on the shelf, you approach him, reaching out and touching his arm gently. “Yangyang, what’s wrong?”

He jerks back before silently holding up his phone for you to see. There’s a slew of text messages from Ningning a few hours ago, and a quick scan tells you all you need to know. Your heart weighs heavily in your chest when you look back at him, a forlorn expression on his face.

“She dumped me,” he says quietly, shoving the phone back into his pocket. “She said our relationship was like a friendship. She didn’t feel anything. She said we could still be friends if I wanted to be though.”

He jabs a large bag of Lays potato chips angrily as his voice raises slightly higher. “But I don’t get it. Do friends take each other on dates? Do friends spend the night? Do friends hug each other and hold hands walking to class? Do friends spend three hundred dollars to do a surprise weekend trip for their birthday?”

He whirls around to face you, and he’s so close that you can see those pretty golden sparkles in his eyes again. Suddenly, his hands are cupping your face, and the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before they flutter shut, and you press your lips against his. The 90s pop station music playing overhead seems to fade away, and all you can focus on is that your best friend tastes like spearmint gum and grape soju. He pulls away abruptly, the realization of what he’s done finally hitting him as his chest heaves up and down.

“Do friends kiss like this?”

His voice is barely a whisper, but it cuts through the silence. You feel like you’re spinning out of control, a split second from careening and crashing.

“No, we—they don’t,” you mumble, and Yangyang sees the starstruck look in your eyes, and he wants to apologize: to say sorry for kissing you. But he doesn’t. Because for some reason, he doesn’t feel sorry. He closes his eyes, curling his hands into fists before exhaling slowly. He sees you looking back at him this time, and he wonders if you feel as equally lost as he does.

Because you’re right. Friends don’t kiss each other like that. Friends don’t feel like this about each other.

He kisses you in November.

AUGUST 2020.

The sun still shines bright late into the day, and August greets you like an old friend. You’re absentmindedly doodling in the margins of your notebook designated for Quantum Mechanics. Yangyang sits next to you in the lecture hall, making a bunch of origami cranes before tossing them at Renjun’s head right in front of him. When the bird reaches its target for the sixth time in a row, the annoyed boy whirls around in his seat, glaring at your best friend.

“Stop that,” he hisses, and Yangyang innocently raises his hands in the air. Renjun angrily frowns at him before turning back around in his seat. After a few minutes, Yangyang flicks another crane towards his friend. If this was a cartoon, you would see steam blowing out of your friend’s ears. You silently watch as he wordlessly picks up his phone, seething as he presses on a particular number.

Suddenly, Travis Scott’s SICKO MODE starts blasting, amplified by the large auditorium-like room. The professor goes silent, and everyone turns to see Yangyang scrambling to pick up his phone. He fumbles around for a few seconds with it before finally shutting it off and putting it on vibrate mode. Cheeks burning red, he meekly puts his phone back in his bag and squeaks out a “sorry” before sinking down in his chair (You can see the culprit grinning like the cat ate the canary right in front of him. Karma’s a bitch who also goes by the name of Renjun).

You pat his arm consolingly as he sulks next to you for a few minutes, mouth jutting out into a pout. You decide to take pity on him and lean closer to him, whispering quietly, “Would it make you feel better if I bought you boba after class?”

Immediately, he brightens up. “One oolong milk tea, half sugar with white pearls and coconut jelly?”

“Yes, I’ll pay for your overpriced drink,” you huff, thinking about how his one seven dollar drink could buy you a whole rotisserie chicken that’ll last you a week. At least the fluffy dog at Cloudy with a Chance of Boba is cute and fun to play with. “I’ll even get the honey waffle fries.”

“Heck yeah!” he whisper-yells, fist pumping quietly before he suddenly deflates. “Wait, I can’t. I promised Lia I’d get lunch with her.”

Ah, right, there’s Lia now. Yangyang’s new girlfriend: the only other student who went to Düsseldorf, Germany to study abroad over the summer, and inevitably, the two of them became close. All you really know about her is that she’s pretty, she’s in Iota Theta Zeta, and she followed you on Instagram a few weeks ago (of course, you followed her back because of the unspoken best friend and girlfriend policy).

Her page looks carefully curated, and there’s a common pink tinted theme going on throughout her feed. She has over a thousand followers, and it seems like Yangyang fits perfectly in her magazine curated life, judging by how he occupies nearly every picture taken in the summer with her or how he’s tagged as the photographer. You can’t deny that they look good together, pointedly shoving the green eyed monster back under the bed.

You take a peek at your messy Instagram page where you only post pictures when you’re half drunk, so there’s no semblance of uniformity anywhere. You shrug at him, pocketing your phone.

“No biggie. I’ll see if Karina is up for some boba. She’s been holed up in the dance studio already, and it’s only week two of classes, can you believe it?”

“I remember Ten was the same way,” Yangyang hums, eyes fixated on his phone and fingers tapping away. He laughs quietly, lips curling into a pretty smile, and you glance over curiously.

“What’s so funny?”

“Hmm?” Yangyang finally tears his eyes away from his screen for a split second to look at you before another buzz takes his attention away. He’s distracted, lovestruck, and you wistfully smile before turning back to your notes.

“Sorry, what’d you say earlier?” he loudly whispers a few minutes later, and you barely glance up from the large bulbasaur doodle you’re in the progress of completing right next to the chart marking the wave functions for a bouncing ball that you had copied down from the blackboard.

“Oh, I just asked what was so funny,” you murmur, coloring in the flowers you drew around the Pokémon with your blue ballpoint pen.

He looks confused for a moment before lighting up. “Oh! It was just a German joke. It’s not really funny if I translate it though.”

“Got it, no worries.” You notice the professor starting a new example problem, and you abandon your drawing, focusing on the formulas rapidly filling up the chalkboards in front of you. A quiet chuckle echoes in your ears, and you pause in your note taking to look over and see your best friend still typing on his phone. You make a mental reminder to create a copy of your notes for him later on when you pass the library on the way to the dining hall.

“Hey, Y/N.” Yangyang nudges you gently. “Rain check on the boba?”

You offer him a soft smile. “Of course. Anytime.”

He gives you a quick grin in return before his attention returns to the device in his hand—or rather, the pretty girl behind those texts. Your best friend is sitting right next to you, but you’ve never felt so far away. You know distance makes the heart grow fonder, but you don’t think it’s possible to be even fonder of him than you are now. Bad habits are hard to break, and you’ve made a terrible one of loving him. No wonder it’s beginning to hurt so much.

You lose him in August.

DECEMBER 2020.

December is the coldest month of the year, yet it is also simultaneously the warmest with all the holiday festivities it brings. If Yangyang were to choose a month to describe you, it’d be this one. You are a walking paradox, a conundrum he might never solve, an oxymoron come to life. He doesn’t understand how you can be his best friend, yet feel like a stranger; a friend who he wants as a lover; someone who has created such an impact in his life, but disappears seamlessly here and there.

He wonders when you’ve gotten so distant. He wonders why he never noticed the way you seemed to slip away through the cracks until it’s now nearing the end of the year, and the last time he’s seen you in person was before the November autumn break.

But you’re here.

You’re standing right next to the punch bowl filled with spiked eggnog, wearing a garish knitted button down jumper with brightly colored Christmas lights decorating it. It’s perfectly in theme with the Ugly Christmas Sweater party Nu Chi is holding, and Yangyang is beyond ecstatic to know that you’re attending. He had texted you an invite two weeks ago, and you merely reacted with a thumbs up.

Yangyang swears he was going to follow up with you on that, but he got so caught up with midterms, then meeting Lia’s family for Thanksgiving, then studying for finals, and then finally, preparing for this party. Buying enough beer for twenty-three keg stands is a lot more difficult than it seems (Donghyuck’s car broke down halfway during one trip, and they all had to carry back the packs of beers to the house in 40 degree weather in their Sperry boat shoes and Patagonia long sleeves that definitely weren’t cut out for this kind of weather).

His girlfriend is somewhere in the room, wearing the other half of the reindeer sweater she forced him to put on, but all he can focus on is you. He hurriedly makes his way over, skidding to a stop in front of you, and you’re startled before a smile spreads across your face.

“Hey, you, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You grin at him, reaching out to poke the reindeer tail sticking out from the front of his itchy sweater (Lia got to wear the head half of the reindeer, while he was stuck with the behind).

“Yeah, how have you been?” He reaches around you to pick up a cup and pour himself some eggnog. He offers you one, but you decline with a small shake of your head.

“I’ve been doing good, a bit tired with finals coming up, but what’s new?” You joke, grabbing one of the sugar cookies from the table. You’re secretly surprised that they actually have real food (No, Hyuck, Jell-O shots do not count as real food). You suspect Jaemin has something to do with it. He always contributes to the annual Greek row bake sale.

“Are you here with someone? Did Karina come?” he asks, curiosity coating every word. He looks around for your roommate, but she’s nowhere to be found.

You shake your head. “No, I actually came with—”

“Me!”

Yukhei bounds over, slipping an arm over your shoulder. He hands you a new cup of apple cider, which you accept gratefully. He grins happily at Yangyang, who freezes up at the sight of his tall friend. “I asked her to be my date for the party, and she agreed. She also made our sweaters! Aren’t they so cool? There’s even lights that spell my name and play Christmas songs. She did a bunch of cool programming tricks to make them work.”

Yangyang realizes with a start that the two of you are indeed wearing matching sweaters, and that leaves a rather sour taste in his mouth (and it definitely wasn’t because of expired eggnog). The corners of his lips tilt downward as he presses his lips together tightly.

“So… you two are together?” He gestures between you and Yukhei with a forced laugh. Jealousy never did look good on anybody, and unfortunately, he’s not an exception.

“We’re just seeing each other and seeing how it goes for now,” you answer quietly, noting the way your best friend reacts. You have always been good at reading him, and you tread carefully now, not wanting to make a scene. Drunk Yangyang never holds anything back, and he’s had quite a few pre-game shots already (It definitely doesn’t help that he’s a lightweight, too).

“I see. How did you guys meet? Or I guess, start talking?” He attempts to look intimidating, staring down at Yukhei, but it’s a difficult feat to accomplish, especially when he’s trying to stare down a six foot guy who’s more like an overgrown puppy and his friend.

“Oh, she came by for one of your boba runs, but you were still out with Lia. So I asked if I could go with her.” Yukhei flashes his pearly whites at you, and you chuckle, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“I said yes, and we hit it off, I guess.”

“You guess? And you took him on our boba runs?”

“You were out with Lia,” you say defensively, and he blanches when he hears his girlfriend’s name come out of your mouth.

“You could’ve waited,” he mutters, but you still hear it, and you give him a scathing look, finally too tired of this push and pull game that’s been going on behind the scenes for nearly three years now.

“I did. I waited over an hour here for you, but you didn’t show up or even text me that you were gonna be late. Yukhei was nice enough to offer to go with me.”

He stays silent, and you gnaw on your bottom lip, unsure of what to say next. Yukhei looks at you in concern, but you reach up and squeeze his hand reassuringly, which your best friend doesn’t fail to notice, his lips pressing into an even thinner line.

“I don’t understand what the deal is,” you finally burst out, startling both boys. “What’s the big deal about me and Yukhei going out?”

Something inside of him finally snaps. “The big deal is that you’re basically sleeping through my list of friends and then breaking up with them! First Dejun, then Jeno, now Yukhei? Who’s next? Should I give Renjun a heads up? Pencil you into his planner? Or Sicheng?  Sungchan? You have a class with him, so you’re bound to flirt with him, too, right? When are you gonna stop fucking around with my frien—”

He gasps, stopping mid-outburst as he stares at you in disbelief. Apple cider slides down from his hair, dripping onto his face and soaking into his sweater, the sticky juice clinging to his skin uncomfortably. You’re absolutely seething, the empty cup crackling in your clenched fist. Shocked, Yukhei carefully tugs the plastic away from you and places it on the table before replacing it with his own hand, his thumb caressing circles on the back of your hand soothingly. Yangyang doesn’t dare to meet his furious gaze, lifting his chin to look at you instead. The entire room has hushed down by now, all eyes staring directly at the three of you in a mixture of surprise and slight terror.

“Screw you, Yangyang,” you say lowly, voice shaking with anger. Tears form on the edge of your waterline, but you blink them away before hastily brushing a stray droplet from your cheek. “They asked me out. I said yes. We went out. It didn’t work out. We move on. Just like how you’ve gone out with my  friends. And they didn’t work out, so you moved on. So what’s so wrong about that? What’s so wrong about trying again to find love?”

He can’t answer you, curling his hands into fists until his fingernails indent miniature crescents in his palms—until the pain overtakes the feelings that are threatening to spill from his heart. Yangyang may not be yours, but he doesn’t like the fact that he can’t call you his either.

Love. That’s what you want, that’s what you crave, but not if it’s from him. So what is he supposed to do with love that’s unwanted? It’s bursting at the seams, and he has nowhere to hide it anymore.

He loves you in December.

AUGUST 2021.

August sneaks up on you this time around, and you find yourself in Kunhang’s apartment. All of your close friends are here, starting the last year of youth with one final first day party. You think back to that day three years ago: when your eyes met a pair of equally bright ones for the first time.

Curled up next to Yukhei on the couch, you look across the room and meet those very same eyes, although they seem hazier this time around. Lia is wrapped around his arm, and you think it’s quite ironic how both your and his relationships remain the same after all this time. Perhaps you both were bad luck for each other, leading to the other’s demise with short lived relationships. He looks away from you.

The rules of truth or dare are simple. You cannot ask the same person again until three other people have been asked first, and no one can be asked more than three times in each round. And, for reasons you can’t understand, everyone seems to take the code of truth seriously.

“I’ll start,” Kunhang announces, leaning back in one of the several beanbags he has in his place. “Goeun, truth or dare?”

Goeun sighs, leaning back on the palms of her hands. “Dare.”

“You and Mark, seven minutes in heaven.” Hendery points towards the coat closet, and the immediate reaction of hoots and wolf whistles has the girl rolling her eyes. With an exasperated huff, she stands up and pulls a red faced Mark along with her.

“Wait, you gotta pick the next person!” Donghyuck calls out, and she stops in her tracks, throwing open the closet door and shrugging. “You can choose for me.”

With that, she and Mark disappear behind the door, and Donghyuck turns toward the rest of the group, eyes glimmering mischievously. You pay no attention to him, absentmindedly playing with Yukhei’s fingers. You tug one of his rings off his finger, and he smiles, plucking it from your grasp carefully before holding your hand. He carefully slides it onto your right ring finger, but it falls off. Grinning, he pretends to try it on every single one of your fingers until finally settling on your thumb. The ring fits snugly there, and you admire it, wriggling your thumb around.

“Well, look at that. It fits you. I think that means we’re meant to be,” Yukhei says, smiling broadly, and you laugh, interlocking your fingers with his again before glancing down at the silver engraved band resting on your finger. The weight of the metal feels heavy resting against your knuckle.

“Yangyang, truth or dare.”

Donghyuck’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you instinctively perk up in your seat at the sound of his name before freezing up in your spot. Yukhei squeezes your hand softly, and you tighten your grip around his fingers.

“Truth.”

“You’re no fun,” Donghyuck sighs, slouching back against the armrest. Yukhei leans over and whispers something in his ear before settling back next to you, shifting slightly to wrap his arm around you. Donghyuck lifts an eyebrow at your boyfriend before shrugging. “Okay, here’s an easy one. Are you in love…”

“Yes.”  is his immediate response, and you notice how Lia absolutely preens next to him.

“… with Y/N?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you immediately turn your head to look at Yukhei, your eyes growing wide in horror. He looks apologetic, shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry, but just the way he looks at you, it’s so obvious, and I had to know.”

You whip around to face the boy in question. With bated breath, you look at him, but Yangyang stares at the center of the floor, struggling internally. Everyone is quiet, and it reminds you of the calm before a storm. At last, he looks up, gazing right at you, and you can almost swear that you see those pretty little gold flecks in his irises from here.

“Yes,” Yangyang confesses quietly.

There’s almost a collective gasp rippling through the room, and Yukhei lets out an inaudible swear under his breath. Your grip on his hand grows slack as you fumble to get a grasp on the entire situation.

He loves you. He loves you. He loves you.

The words echo in your mind like a mantra until it grows so loud that you can’t hear any of your own thoughts anymore. Lia is in absolute hysterics, demanding an explanation from him, but he merely shrugs her off. Standing up, he quickly moves to leave the room, glancing at you one more time before disappearing out the front door.

It’s like your body is on auto-pilot after this. You drop Yukhei’s hand, immediately standing up and rushing after your best friend, paying no mind to the hushed whispers that only seem to increase in volume once you leave. You step out onto the porch, and there he is, sitting on the steps.

You quietly stand behind him, contemplating what to say and carefully choosing your next words. But there’s only one question on your mind.

“Why did you say that?”

He stays silent for a moment, staring out at the moon shining brightly ahead. “Because I meant it.”

Your heart wrenches in your chest. “You shouldn’t.”

He finally turns to look at you, an indescribable look in his eyes. It reminds you of heartbreak. “But I do. And I tried not to for the past three fucking years, but I can’t anymore.”

“Since freshman year?” You feel the tears well up in your eyes, and this time, you let them go. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yangyang grips onto the edge of the stairs tightly, frustration ringing with every word that falls from his mouth. “Because I was scared. And I thought you never felt the same way. You’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Yang…” You whisper, hand reaching out as you let it hover over his shoulder for a few seconds. Then, you pull back, curling your fingers into fists, pressing crescent indentations into the palms of your hands.

He stands up, whirling around to look at you, desperate. “Tell me I’m not too late. Please, Y/N.”

Something inside of you breaks. You open your mouth and start to say something when the door opens behind you. Turning around, you see Yukhei. His eyes widen when he sees the two of you standing there.

You know this is it. This is the moment. This is where you have to decide.

“I, I was just looking for you. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Yukhei awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna go back in and—”

“No, wait, it’s okay,” you gently interrupt him. You reach out and slip your hand into his, and he relaxes, giving you a relieved smile. You smile softly back at your boyfriend before turning to face him, eyes apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Yangyang.”

He and you are asymptotes: two lines curving towards each other, but never touching; two hands reaching towards each other, but never interlocking; two people tangling their red strings of fate, but never tying.

You give him one last glance before going back inside with Yukhei.

You break his heart in August.

SEPTEMBER 2021.

September is supposed to be a new beginning: the transition from summer to autumn. Yangyang doesn’t think he can let go of you as easily as the trees shed their green for gold and red. Wherever he goes, wherever he looks, little reminders of you bloom in every crevice. You’re absolutely everywhere and nowhere, and it drives him crazy.

He thinks he’s gone completely insane when he hears your laugh while he’s walking to the laundromat one day. He shoves his airpods in and continues on his way until he sees you. Walking across the street, there you are. You’re on the phone with someone, and he contemplates going over to say hello. But suddenly, you’re hanging up the phone and waving eagerly at someone. When he turns his head to look, his heart drops and gets buried six feet under. He hurriedly ducks into a nearby bookstore and watches as you run up to Yukhei, slipping your hand into his like it’s second nature to you now. The two of you walk off together, and Yangyang is left standing at the window of the store until the shop owner politely asks if there’s anything he needs.

He doubts a time machine is something they have in stock, so he silently shakes his head and steps out onto the street once again. It is now silent and empty.

He loses you in September.

AUGUST 2022.

A lot can change in eleven months.

You’re twenty two years old, but you feel like you’re eighteen again. You know you’re going to see him for the first time since September at Kun’s housewarming. You had repeatedly assured Yukhei that you’d be fine. After all, life goes on; the world doesn’t stop just because you had a falling out with your best friend, even if it may have been a little more than that. Nevertheless, a year has nearly passed. Time is known to be the best healer, and perhaps your heart has shed its old skin and habits.

Your hand is safely enveloped in Yukhei’s, and the two of you walk towards your older friend’s new apartment. He playfully swings your interlocked hands back and forth, and you giggle, tightening your grip around his fingers. You stop in front of the door, the muffled sounds of a party slipping through the cracks. You suck in a breath, shoulders tensed. He’s in there.

“Are you okay?”

Yukhei squeezes your hand gently, voice laced with concern. You remember to breathe, exhaling slowly and relaxing before nodding. You smile up at him. “I’m okay.”

“If you want, we can go back home now, have another NCIS marathon, and drink this by ourselves.” Yukhei waves around the nice bottle of wine the two of you had brought for Kun. “We can even stop by the convenience store and get some ramen.”

You laugh quietly, the corners of your lips upturning with mirth. “It’s okay, I’m fine, Yukhei, I promise. Plus, I have you, right?”

He brightens up at that, practically beaming at you, and your heart skips a beat. “Right!”

You reach out and knock on the door. Kun greets the two of you, and you enter his apartment. Yukhei still doesn’t let go of your hand, and you follow behind him as you weave your way through the living room, greeting some of your friends. You hear Kunhang calling out to your boyfriend from the kitchen and feel him hesitate next to you. You squeeze his hand gently before letting go and nudging him in the direction of his friend. Yukhei gives you one last look, but you wave him off, smiling goodnaturedly and silently assuring that you’re okay. He swoops down and leaves behind a soft kiss for you before going.

You walk over to the alcohol table, pouring yourself something to drink. Leaning against the wall, you take a sip of your drink, your eyes flitting over the rim of your cup and slowly scanning the room. It feels like forever, like everything is moving in slow motion, like the world is submerged underwater, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.

You find him easily. After all, it’s hard to forget someone whose features you’ve memorized over the past four years. Your eyes map the delicate outline of his face once more, and for a moment, you wonder if red is still his favorite color, or who he shares a carton of Ben and Jerry’s with nowadays. You wonder if he thinks of you sometimes, too.

But then, you wonder where Yukhei is. You search around until you see your boyfriend still standing in the kitchen, laughing at something your mutual friend said. Your eyes soften when you see him grab your favorite snack. You turn back around, your heart swelling in your chest tenfold, and your lips curl upwards, an endeared expression on your face.

That’s when you notice that he’s looking at you.

You brace yourself, waiting for the tidal wave of emotions to wash over you and the quickening of your heart rate to greet you like an old friend. Because that’s what always happens when you’re around him. After all, he is the biggest what-if in your life. He is someone you almost loved forever, someone you almost stayed for.

And yet, nothing happens. You wait a little longer. The world still goes round, and you’re still breathing. There’s no shortness of breath, no erratic heart palpitations, no sweaty palms, absolutely nothing. Liu Yangyang is a stranger in a familiar body, and your heart remains still.

You give Yangyang a faint smile, nodding towards him, and it feels like a sudden jolt in his heart. Time stops, and all he can see is you. You look beautiful. You have always been beautiful. This is his chance. Whatever higher entity out there has taken pity on him and given him a second try to make it right. He finally takes a step towards you, and the tender, encouraging expression in your eyes gives him the strength to take another one. After all, the eyes are the windows to the soul. Clutching his drink in hand, he pushes his way through the crowd. He’s only eight, seven, six, five steps away from you now. A smile grows on his face as relief curls around his heart like a bandage. You’re standing there, waiting for him, smiling at him.

And suddenly, you’re no longer looking at him.

You stopped looking at him.

Yukhei makes his presence known next to you, excitedly chattering about something and gesturing towards the kitchen as he hands you something to eat. It’s a snickerdoodle cookie. Your favorite. Your eyes are fixated on the tall boy, positively sparkling as you beam at him.

Yangyang feels like he can’t breathe. The bandage is ripped off, and all he can feel is excruciating pain like a thousand pinpricks into his heart before the numbness hits. He freezes, rooting himself in that spot on the scratched hardwood floor as his colleagues and friends continue to jostle around him. As his world crumbles around him, he can’t tear his eyes away from you. They stay on you, the barest traces of nostalgia lingering in the dimmed golden flecks of his irises that you had still admired all those months ago. It’s like he’s trapped in a silent film, stuck in a fish bowl and swimming in circles, and he watches in horror as you outstretch your hand and intertwine your fingers around Yukhei’s, leaning up to press your lips against his tenderly. Your boyfriend looks at you like you hung the stars in the night sky yourself (He would believe it if you said you did).

You don’t look at him like that anymore.

Yangyang remembers when you used to. When you used to love him. When you were almost his. He feels something inside of him break for a second time.

The world continues to spin, and yet, he’s still not moving. He’s stuck in quicksand, sinking deeper and deeper as everyone around him moves on—as you move on. He desperately tries to keep you in his view, and his feet finally pick up as he lurches forward. He’s not fast enough. You’re slipping away, walking away from him, hand in hand with Yukhei, disappearing around the corner of the hallway, and he can’t do anything about it. It’s too late. He’s too late. The sticky remnants of cheap beer run down his wrist, and it finally registers in his mind that he had crushed the flimsy plastic cup in his hand sometime in between now and then. In a crowded room full of people, he’s left standing there, alone and lonely.

Almost is the worst way to love someone, Yangyang bitterly realizes. It hurts to lose someone you almost love. No, it was never an ‘almost’. He most certainly loved—loves—you. And it should be impossible to lose someone who was never his to begin with, yet he has. All this time, he thought he had you, but it had always been the other way around.

He was your August, he was your everything, and he is yours.

But you will never be his.

You let go of him in August.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Cupid

Note: This is for @afriendlyblackhottie​​ Brat and Birthday challenge. Happy Bday Month 🎉🎈🎊🎂🍰! I chose Cupid by 112. Chris art work by @nix-akimbo​ she is amazing here is the original.

Summery: Ransom likes a bridesmaid.

Warning: Daddy Kink, gag, oral (reader receives), sex

Groomsman Band member Ransom x Black Reader, Knives out Alternative Universe

Leaning in the archway of the reception hall you sighed watching the newlyweds dance their first dance. You didn't want to be here. Not after all the shit he put Courtney, the bride, through.

But your bestie was the kind of girl that could not function without a man in her life. He had cheated on her five times, that you knew of. You were sure there was more, but she as well as you were tired of the berating.

It was always the same. He cheated, she cried, you picked up the pieces and then when he was ready she would go back. Pathetic.

"Aw don't pout princess your day will come" your eyes rolled at the sound of his voice. You had the misfortune to be linked with Ransom, the cousin of the groom. All the other bridesmaids drooled over him, but you weren't impressed. This rich boy was looking to add to his body count so you only interacted with him only when you needed to.

Their family had paid for this whole affair. You nearly punched one of the grooms relatives when she made a remark on Courtney's color choices. They were all on your shit list.

Just ignore him. Its almost over and you will never have to see him again.

As the song ended everyone applauded while you made your way over to the open bar. Your wrist was snagged as you crossed his path. Snatching it back you looked at him as if he grew another head.

"Look you don't want to be here I don't want to be here. Let's be miserable together." He held up his hands in surrender. You were stuck on this island and you were smart enough not to fall for dumb shit so you gave yourself permission to relax.

You both took over an empty table in the back of the massive hall. Ransom disappeared for a bit, then returned with two bottles of champagne and two glasses. The bar was an open bar, but you were sure they weren't handing out bottles left and right.

"OK let's play a game to pass the time." Ransom proposed as he approached.

"Game? What kind of game?" You waited curiously. Sitting the glasses and bottles down Ransom proceeded to pop the cork on one of the bottles of Champaign.

"We both take turns pointing out people we think the other would fuck."your mouth fell open with his boldness as he spoke. "If you guess wrong you have to take a sip. Yatta yatta you get it."

"Are you just trying to get me drunk?" You squint at him playfully suspicious.

"Nah, just bored. So come on let's play."

You watched as he poured the glasses to the brim, when he handed you the bubbling glass you thanked him. Ransom moved his chair next to you, sitting shoulder to shoulder so you both were sure to have the same view of the people on the floor.

"Ladies first" he held his glass high. You clinked your glass with his signaling ‘good game’.

"What about her?" You pointed to Courtney's great aunt. The lovely woman was at least eighty-seven, you knew this would be a 'no', but why not start off with a softball.

He gave you a look that made you snort.

"Wow was that a laugh? I seriously didn't think the ice queen was capable. You didn't even smile for the wedding photos. Achievement unlocked." Ransom was full of himself.

"No one is gonna believe I got the frost queen to crack a smile." Ransom boasted.

You took a sip from your glass so you didn't have to reply. There was nothing to smile about. You didn't approve of this wedding so you weren't going to act like you were. Courtney was lucky you even agreed to be a bridesmaid.

"OK my turn." He observed the crowded floor, before finding his mark. "Glasses two o'clock."

You searched out 'Glasses' and scoped him out. Tall, put together nicely. "Yep."

"Really?" He gave you a look, that made it hard to fight back the curl of your lip.

"Yep..I have particular taste." You say casually with a shrug.

"Well all right to each his own I guess."

"My turn" you stopped for a beat then found her. " Oh what about her?" you pointed to a tall slender blonde.

"Ugh no...That's my aunt."

"Oooops....My bad... let me see who else, umm" you looked around the room, but he only looked at you.

"Oh! Oh! Her" you pointed to Stephani, a younger cousin of Courtney's. Thick thighed, uber fit college student.

"You can't go twice. Take your sip."

"What that was your aunt that cant count" you argued back.

"A no is a no" he tutted.

"Fine" you gulped from your glass and waited your turn.

"OK my turn. Hmm...What about him" he pointed to an older man that was chatting up a bridesmaid that was way to young for him.

"Eww nah not my type, but he might have gotten a yes back in the day." You tilted your head with a smirk.

"Oh thank gawd. That's my dad."

"What the fuck? Dude gross" you slapped at his shoulder and laughed. Ransom rubbed it fanning pain.

"Hey you picked my aunt" he chuckled with you.

"Yeah but I didn't know she was your aunt!"

After finishing the first bottle you started to feel loose. Ransom's arm stretched out along the back of your chair, slyly rubbing circles on your bare arm, while you leaned snuggled into his side as you both continue to people watch.

"So what do you do?" You asked him.

Ransom was silent for a moment. Taking a long swig from the glass before looking over at you and sighing.

"I'm in a band."

"Oh really, is that your little hobby you do before you take over the board seat at your grand-papa's company?" you bit back a laugh. Ransom frowned at you, but you didn't care.

You knew of the older Thrombey, the famous author and owner of a publishing house. Through rehearsal you watched the interactions between the two and you knew that Ransom was the favorite of the acclaimed writer's brood.

"I don't want anything to do with that company believe it or not. I love music always have."

"Must be nice to play in a band bankrolled by a publishing house. What are y'all called 'Blood and Rock'" you laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

"Ha wrong again. We're called 'Coffee and Roses'. And I've been cut of financially ever since I got these bad boys" Ransom shimmed out of his blazer and rolled up his sleeves. His well toned arms were completely covered in ink. When he pulled down his collar you were able to see the massive art work that encompassed his neck, you bit into your bottom lip as he allowed you to ogle him. "This art work was not board approved " he joked. The booze mixed with Ransom's rocker bod was starting to lower your inhibitions and you needed to put a stop to it.

"Your cousin is a piece of shit." You changed the subject before taking a pull from your glass.

"Yeah well he gets that from his dad, he's always been an asshole."

"Apples don't fall far do they?" You snipped. When Ransom didn't respond you looked over, he was looking at his father who had now moved on to another pretty young thing.

"He made a mistake and he is fixing it." Ransom replied, suddenly in defense of his cousin.

The mistake in question was a child, by another woman. That baby you thought would be the final straw to break the camels back.

"Diamonds don't fix problems." You didn't come from money, but you knew that this wedding was a band-aid. And once it got wet you wondered what would be the gift for the next 'mistake'.

The groom had always bought his way out of his binds. The more he fucked up the more money he poured on it. This wedding you couldn't even fathom the cost. The wedding ring alone looked like it could choke a horse. And this destination wedding on his dime made you think on what happened in the interim leading up to this event.

"You're a really good friend. She's lucky that she has someone that cares so much." You both stared into the distance at the couple. They danced and smiled at each other so happy, but you felt sick. Ransom's sweet words made you immediately suspicious of his intent, his cousin had a habit of talking sweet, but he was a fucking snake. You weren't going to end up like Courtney.

"Look don't think that just because we got all chummy that all of a sudden I am gonna want to bang one out." You hit your glass on the table harder than you meant to, it tipped over and spilled out the rest of your drink.

When a little bit of the liquid trickled off the table and hit your dress you pushed away from the table. Just a tiny bit, nothing major to fuss about, but you had hit your limit. You'd done the wedding, you took the pictures and you stuck around for the reception. It was time to go.

You weren't about to be some random rich kids one night stand. So you stormed off. Thankfully the ball room was not far from the adjoining hotel. Marching you fumed and you cursed your friend for being this dumb, yourself for not doing more to stop this and almost falling for Ransom's charm. Mashing the buttons you thought of changing your number, wiping your hands from this friendship and looking into an overnight flight back home.

How much worse would it be now that she was legally married to that douche bag. The thought of them having kids only served to further irked you.

Before the elevator door could close a hand sliced down the middle, halting the closure.

You stood stunned as Ransom appeared out of breath and in-between the open doors.

**"Baby, I'm so tired of the way you turn my words into deception and lies"**

Ransom consumed the space between you two. Your ass hit the hand rail as the doors closed.

"I am not my father, I am not my cousin. I liked you." His confession made your heart flutter.

Don't be stupid. He is the same as the rest of his family. Don't fall for his game.

His hands rested on the bar on either side of your hips as he stood toe to toe with you. You rolled your eyes and scoffed turning away from him, unable to keep staring into those eyes.

**Don't misunderstand me when I try to speak my mind I'm only saying what's in my heart**

With one finger he brought your focus back to him. You frowned at him, you weren't weak. You weren't falling for him no matter how much your body wanted to throw in the towel.

**Cupid doesn't lie** He leaned in close and you held your breath as your heart raced.

**But you won't know unless you give it a try** Ransom whispered over your lips before kissing you gently. You broke down allowing him to invade your mouth. His lips felt soft and his firm arms a welcome feeling as they wrapped around you.

The elevator dinged loudly and you pulled back. Your lipstick smeared on his mouth made for a funny sight. Looking at the number it was your floor then back at him.

**Give it a try** Ransom pleaded.

A switch flipped inside you. Angry at yourself you pushed past him and marched to your hotel room.

He is just a spoiled rich kid trying to have fun. Don't fall for it. You try and convince yourself.

He shouted as the doors closed and you tried to ignore him.

**Cupid doesn't lie**

He shouted again. You halted, but refused to look.

"All men lie" You stopped as you replied back at him. There wasn't a woman in your life that wasn't hurt and you didn't want to join that club. You wanted to protect yourself at all cost. You heard the elevator doors close so you let out a sigh of relief.

What if you were wrong. What if he was right? A nagging thought bubbled in your mind. He was fun, you felt at easy around him. Some part of you yearned for him to come back.

You were so lost in your own head that you hadn't heard him rush up behind you. Ransom quickly spun you around, his eyes boring into your soul. The sight of which made it hard to stay angry.

**"Oh baby, true love won't lie...But we won't know unless we give it a try"**

He kissed you again. This time more hungry than before, so much so it took your breath away as he pulled back.

**"Give it a try"** he pleaded yet again.

It was hard to get the door open with Ransom latched onto your face. Fumbling with the key you tried blindly several times to get the card in the slot with your back pressed hard against the door.

Frustrated Ransom snatched the card and opened the door for you.

"Thanks Daddy" you teased, looking up through your lashes at him.

"Daddy huh?" The grin that grew on his face was devilish indeed. "So that's it...You act all bratty to get Daddy to react. Huh?"

Scooping you off your feet he carried you across the threshold. You were so surprised that he was able to handle your weight with ease, as he walked you over to the bed, before tossing you.

"Keep the dress on and pull your tits out" he command as he furiously unbuttoned his shirt.

You marveled at the fit rocker. He revealed more tats as he opened his shirt. Pushing down your off the shoulder strap you yanked your top down. Your half bra going down with it, allowing your breast to bounce free.

"Stand up."

Without a word you rose to your feet.

"Turn around."

Again you followed his orders. The way he commanded you made your need soak through your panties.

"Gonna come deep in that pretty pussy, show you who you belong to" Ransom taunted into the shell of your ear. "Say ahh."

The neck tie that had long since come undone was now being wrapped around your open mouth, wrapping it  quickly then knotting the fabric.  

Once secure Ransom proceeded to massage your breast from behind. As he tweaked your nipples you felt his cock, hard and stiff pressed into your ass.

You pushed and rubbed against it toying with him, the hum that buzzed from his lips almost sounded primal. "Nothing but a big tease huh? Daddy's going to show you what he thinks about teases."

Pushing you over on the bed you yelped through your gag. Looking over your shoulder you watched as Ransom bunched up the fabric of your dress, tossing it over your hips to expose your ass.

Feeling cocky you twerked your ass before him, the look in his eye showed that he approved of the sight. Ransom palmed your cheeks with both his hands, kneading the soft tissue as he rubbed his erection on you.

One hand moved around your hips and on the outer-lining of your panties.

"Fuck baby girl is that all for me?" Ransom's finger pulled at the elastic that touched your bud. He felt the drenched panties and pulled them back until they snapped back in place.

"Fuck baby girl" he purred.

Ransom lowered himself onto his hunches, pulling your panties down with them. You felt his tongue lapping gently at your folds. The sensation sending shivers throughout your body.

His tongue separated your lips, you knees wanted to cave at the tantalizing feel of him. Through your gag you moaned, the slow torture of his feasting was bringing you close to the finish line.

Ransom sucked hard on your bare mound adding a finger as he rose to his feet. "You taste so sweet baby." He praised as he curled his fingers inside of you.

"Do you want to come on my cock or my fingers?" He asked as your cunt tensed around his digits. Ransom knew you were getting close and you hoped he would choose the former.

"I cant hear you" he added another digit as you begged through your gag. You wanted to feel him all of him, but there was no way to make your answer clear through the fabric.

"Well, if you are not going to answer I will pick for you."

Ransom knew what you wanted, even with your desperate mumbling. Kicking your legs father apart he then removed his fingers. You whimpered at the lack of touch, but you were also thrilled to finally get what you really wanted.

The sound of his zipper going down made you antsy. You danced on the heels of your feet with anticipation of his next move.

Ransom took his cock in one hand while he spread one of your cheeks with the other. He rubbed his cock against the deep pink within your folds.

Toying with you as you mumbled through the tie. His pre-cum mixed with your juices as he pressed his tip hard against your opening.

"Are you gonna be a good girl from me?" He teased. You furiously nodded 'yes'.

You felt the pressure of him entering you as drool seeped past your gag. "Do you belong to me?" He halted, the sudden stop drove you crazy. Again you nod and shouted 'yes' through your restraint.

"Good girl."

Ransom filled you to your core, only stopping when you sheathed him completely. You gripped the fabric of the hotel duvet, you hadn't expected him to be so big.

The slapping of flesh on flesh filled the room. His moans mixed with the sounds of your sloppy sex were enough to send you over the edge.

Ransom controlled the pace, his length undeterred by your lack of space to take him in. You cried through your gag as he sent jolts through your body. "You were made for me" he proclaimed as he snapped his hips into you.

Your mewls were muffled by the tie, but you were sure whoever was in the room next to you could still make out what was happening here.

"Fuck" he growled as he fucked you into the bed. "I'm gonna fill you up."

"Gonna make you nice and round" he slapped your ass as he thrusted. You felt your core tighten.

"Fuck Daddy I want to come on your cock!" You finally shouted as the gag finally slipped from your lips.

"Come in me Daddy!" You felt him twitch inside you at your desperate pleading.

"Oh baby girl your tempting me."

"Please!" You panted.

"Fuck" Ransom shouted as he shot his load inside you. You felt him coat you as you milked him dry.

Ransom fell on-top of you and your knees buckled, causing you both to fall forward onto the bed. Ransom moved off you, sweaty and exhausted. "Don't think that I'm done with you yet."

[somebodycall911onabc]

Some post-4x13 Buddie because ummmm no to everything that just went down and whatever the hell they're doing with that promo. Pre-relationship Eddie introspection, guest-starring sleepy Buck and Chris (how often can I have these two idiots—Buck and Eddie, not Chris—wake each other up too goddamn early in the morning; the answer is infinite).

Eddie wakes up.

The world is a quiet, washed-out hum of static and dim light. He listens to his breath, in and out, in and out, as the room comes into focus. The rhythmic beeping monitor. The rough sheets over his chest. The hollowed-out numb of his shoulder where—

fuck. Where he’d been shot.

Eddie blinks open his eyes and grimaces. He’s probably doped to hell but his shoulder aches like forest fire, like a pain that will consume him and the whole world too, if he lets it. His head feels like someone pumped it full of air right up until the point before it bursts. He grits his teeth and gathers saliva on his tongue, carefully distributes it so that when he swallows, it will feel less like he’s ingesting a quart of sand. He knows this song and dance. He wiggles his fingers and toes and notes that remarkably, everything’s in working order. He wonders how often you can cheat death before that karma comes to get you.

Although he thinks Buck would probably go to bat for him, even against death himself. The heart monitor spikes as Eddie remembers with a vicious and cruel clarity Buck’s eyes on his as Eddie shuddered and collapsed. Buck’s wide, deer-in-headlights eyes, all that Eddie could see, just two pinprick pupils until there was nothing else, just the black, blank darkness.

Eddie tips his head to the side and opens his eyes, unclenching his fists, and nearly reels back when he sees Ana. She’s crumpled in the seat beside him, her chin resting on her collarbone, her long, dark eyelashes twitching against her cheek as she sleeps.

He closes his eyes and turns his head away.

But Ana’s a light sleeper. She was already waking up when he looked at her, roused from the shallow depths of unconsciousness by the change in Eddie’s breathing pattern, or something. His eyes are still closed when she croaks out, “Eddie?”

He looks at her.

“Eddie!” She says, raising her hands to flutter them over his chest, his face, his un-wounded shoulder. “You’re awake! You’re alive! Thank God,” she says, fervent. Like a prayer.

“Guess I’m just… lucky,” Eddie wheezes out. She smiles at him, eyes watering, and he gave the PG-version of his Silver Star story in her classroom but there’s no hint of recognition in her eyes.

“Either the luckiest man alive, or the unluckiest,” she says. “I’m pretty sure a lucky man wouldn’t be shot at quite so much.” She presses a kiss to his temple and Eddie has the horrible impulse to bat her away from him like she’s an overbearing aunt.

God, he’s an idiot. And it would take getting shot for him to realize it.

“What… happened?” Eddie asks, relieved when she leans back and settles into her chair.

“I’m not sure… I heard there was a sniper on the scene. The police think he might be targeting first responders, because how could this year get any worse?” When she shakes her head, her curls bounce in a way Eddie found appealing, once. It feels like a million years ago.

“Chris?” He asks, heart racing once more. She glances at the monitor and then back to him, offering a reassuring smile that does little to soothe his nerves.

“He’s OK. Buck’s with him.” Those three words calm Eddie instantly, like someone turning off an electric kettle, the worry bubbling up inside him simmering to a still. Because it means Chris is OK, and so is Buck. “I’m really grateful to Buck,” Ana is saying, taking his hand in hers, drawing his attention back to her. “It means I get to be here, with you.” She smiles at him like he’s fragile.

Wrong.

Eddie looks at her and doesn’t know how to tell her. How to tell her that the right thing would be for her to be at Chris’s side. That Chris always came first. Chris was the first and only priority. Chris was Eddie’s heart, raw and exposed, just like Bobby had said.

He looks at her and thinks about Chris’s smile, how he lights up the minute Ana walks in the room. He thinks about Chris confessing to him, quiet and anxious, that he’d asked Santa to find Mommy. He thinks about his parents telling him that the proper thing to do was to marry the girl carrying his child, even if he wasn’t sure he loved her.

Chris has been and will always be the most important thing in Eddie’s life. But Eddie’s starting to realize that even with a Northstar as good and perfect as Chris, Eddie didn’t always make the best choices. For himself, for Chris, or for their family.

“Can you call Buck, for me?” Eddie asks, brushing his thumb over Ana’s delicate knuckles. “If it’s not too late. I want to see my boys.”

She hastily bends down to pick up her purse and fumble her phone out, tell him it was fine, Buck had wanted her to call him as soon as Eddie woke up, anyway. He catches a glimpse of a “5” as she unlocks the phone and opens her contact list.

In the early morning, hospital quiet, Eddie can hear the phone ring on the other end of the line. Once, twice. Click.

“Hello?’ Buck asks, voice scratchy with sleep.

“Let me talk to him,” Eddie says, before Ana can get a word in. She hesitates, opens her mouth, but he holds her gaze until she extends the phone to him. Eddie’s hand is steady when he takes it from her.

“Hey,” Eddie says. Buck’s bleary-eyed, curls smashed to one side of his head, half his face obscured by a dark shape.

“Eddie,” Buck says, a ragged, relieved sound. He shifts, and Eddie hears him say, “Chris, Chris wake up, it’s your dad, Chris, he’s OK!”

And then there’s another face, pressing too close to the camera, so that Eddie mostly sees a nostril and some chin.

“Daddy!” Chris whoops, and Eddie smiles, and Buck pulls Chris back from the phone screen so Eddie can see him.

“Hey there, buddy,” Eddie says, “sorry I scared you.”

“W-wasn’t scared,” Chris insists, blinking rapidly because without his glasses, the world was mostly a multi-colored smudge. “I had Buck.”

Buck—who settles Chris’s glasses over his face with heartbreaking tenderness. Buck—who wraps an arm around Chris and scoots them back against the headboard so they can both see Eddie. Buck—who had clearly been sleeping in Chris’s bed, keeping him safe while Eddie was getting several pints of blood pumped into his body and shrapnel extricated from his shoulder.

“That’s good,” Eddie says. “Really good.”

“We knew you’d be OK,” Buck says. “Right, Superman?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause of your lucky charm.”

Eddie has to close his eyes against that. Chris is still so young, still Disney-innocent and honey-sweet, and Buck knew exactly what to say to calm Chris down. He knew Chris’s favorite bedtime story and the playlist Eddie made for him to help Chris fall asleep.

“That’s right,” Eddie chokes out. “My St. Christopher medal.”

“No.” Eddie blinks at that, at the stubborn line of Chris’s mouth. “Me. And Buck.”

Buck looks just about as surprised as Eddie feels.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“What?” Buck asks.

“What?” Chris asks, confused at their confusion. He addresses Buck. “Daddy said that I was his good l-l-luck charm. Because he loves me. A-and he loves you, so you’re his good luck charm too.”

Eddie isn’t sure if his kid is perceptive or just putting together ideas in the way only kids can. But it doesn’t really matter, because he isn’t wrong.

“Got me there,” Eddie agrees. “I must be pretty lucky, since I’ve got the both of you watching my back.”

Buck’s smiling a pleased, sunshine grin. The room is too dark and the connection is too poor, but Eddie would bet money that Buck’s blushing.

Eddie very deliberately doesn’t look at Ana.

“We’ll come visit as soon as the hospital opens,” Buck promises. “It’s good you called, because we should probably get going.”

To his right, Chris gives a huge yawn.

“You sure? I’m not going anywhere.”

“You think we’re gonna be able to sleep now that you’re awake? No way.”

“No way!’ Chris agrees.

“We’ll be there in fifteen. Twenty. Ten?” Buck looks down at Chris.

“Five!” Chris shouts. “The f-firetruck could make it in five minutes!”

“But we only have Buck’s jeep,” Buck says, pouting at Chris. “Definitely not a firetruck.”

“Fifteen,” Chris amends.

“OK,” Eddie says with a laugh that barely hurts. “I’ll see you soon. Thanks, Buck.”

“For what?” Buck asks, ruffling Chris’s hair with the hand that had been draped over Chris’s shoulders. “Be there soon.”

The call disconnects with the finality of a book snapping shut. He squares his shoulders (as much as he can while lying in an inclined hospital bed with a bullet injury) and turns his head to face Ana.

Her eyes are narrowed and hard, like ice over a troubled stream.

“So,” she says, slow and calm, “Buck?”

“Yeah” Eddie says. It’s all he can say. He can’t tell her how to be what he needs, what Chris needs. He can’t tell her to put Chris first like a reflex, like an instinct.

He doesn’t blame her. He isn’t mad at her. He isn’t even disappointed. He’s as shocked as anyone that he met someone who understood, immediately and profoundly, that Chris was Eddie’s world. Eddie had never counted on someone like Buck. And it was time he stopped running from that and accepted it for the undeserved, unparallelled gift that it was.

“I’m sorry,” he adds.

“Me too.” Ana takes her phone back with a snap of her wrist and drops it in her purse. “I’m going to go home.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, feeling a little guilty. He knows what it’s like to feel left behind, waking up with nothing but a note and the realization that you could never be good enough.

Ana gets to her feet and smooths the wrinkles of her blouse, and for a moment she reminds him so much of Shannon that he’s dizzy. The straight back, the self-posession, the tumble of curls swept over her shoulder.

He hopes Ana finds a love worthy of her, someone who will treasure her and believe her when she says, “sometimes our limitations let us know who we are.”

Because Eddie looked at the world like a challenge. He threw himself into it like the world might burn up tomorrow, but he would fight to the last breath anyway. He peeled away honorable discharge and may experience lifelong mobility dilemmas and we know what’s best for him and don’t you know how hard it is to be a single father like strips of old paint.

And Buck was the same way. Buck was I had to do it and didn’t you know Jim Abbot played baseball with only one hand and I’m in. You wanted us to bond, Cap. We might end up real close.

Eddie watches Ana leave, her heels clicking sharp against the tiled floor. At the door, she turns her head.

“I am glad you’re OK, Edmundo.”

“Thank you.”

And then she’s gone.

And then Eddie waits, anticipation mounting, for his boys to bring him home.

[antihero-writings]

Before it Kills You Too (Ch2 Snippets 1, 2 & 3)

Fandom: Lore Olympus

Chapter Summary: When Hera gets into a car accident after a fight, Zeus has a moment to ruminate on their relationship. Written using the song “Wait” by Maroon 5 as a prompt.

Character Focus: Zeus

Please note!! This is the previous Ch2 snippets I posted + a new snippet (the new snippet starts with “I would venture to guess she was driving too fast.”)

I’ve been having trouble with this chapter for a very long time, so I’ve decided to post it snippet-by-snippet, because that seems like the only way I’ll successfully finish this fic. 

While this should be as close to the final version as it can be, anything in this snippet is subject to change when the full chapter comes out. (And, hey, to that end, if there’s anything you think needs to be edited here, please kindly let me know!!)

Im really excited about this snippet!! Definitely one of my favorite parts of the chapter!!

Thanks again SO much to those who support this fic and want to read more!! The fact that you want to read more really does mean the world to me!! I appreciate your kind comments so much!!

I’d really appreciate it if you could leave a comment and/or reblog!!! I’m not kidding when I say that makes my week!!

Tagging some folks who’ve shown interest!! @jayyy007 @autumnmoon21 @sunsetsofanemoia, @lynnie51 @what-the-fuckaroni @masquejj

And please do let me know if you’d like me to add you to a taglist for this fic, or message you when new snippets/the next chapter come/s out!!

Chapter 2 Snippets 1, 2 & 3:

Hera was standing in the crowded meadow, surrounded by her friends, laughing that girly little giggle full of sunshine that just about made Zeus’ heart ooze in a puddle out of his chest.

Her blue dress made her eyes look like two shimmering sapphires.

“Have I seen her in a dress that color?” Zeus inquired excitedly from behind the bushes.

“How can we know what you’ve seen?” Aidoneus muttered. “With you creeping around, you might have seen her naked for all we know.”

Zeus punched him in the arm, (lightly).

“I don’t think she’s worn a dress that color!” Posiedon bubbled.

“Thank you, Posiedon. At least someone can answer a question.”

“I think she looks like the sea on summer day.” He put his hands on his face, them sliding slowly.

Zeus eyed him. “Alright, keep it in your toga, Little Green Man.”

“Should we really be here?” Aidoneus muttered. “We weren’t invited.”

“Oh come on,” Zeus stood up, putting his hands on his hips. “Who wouldn’t want to see the King of the gods here?”

Poseidon grinned and stood up behind his brother. “No one!”

“Hestia, Demeter… assorted sane people.” Hades muttered as he stood to follow.

“If that’s sanity I’m glad I’m insane.” Zeus trilled as he strutted up to the entrance.

A cute pink nymph—(rather well endowed in the chestal region—not that he noticed!)—greeted them at the archway.

“Oh! Zeus!” She flushed and bowed. “It’s an honor. Welcome!”

“Why it’s an honor to meet you, my lady.” He kissed her hand, and she giggled. “See?” he turned to his brothers. “They’re delighted to have us.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling.” Hades muttered.

Hera was closer now; she smelled like summer, and she looked like it too. Poseidon was right about the ocean thing; she practically shimmered as she spoke with her friends.

“I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“Wait—!” Hades was soon swallowed by the crowd.

Zeus scooched behind her at lightning speed. One by one her friends began to take notice, their eyes widening.

Hera took a step back and would have tripped in surprise if he hadn’t caught her.

“Careful there, you might fall, Birthday Girl.”

“Oh, Zeus!” She looked up at him, the back of her head hitting his chest, “hi!”

That golden smile.

“I made you something!” As she spun to face him, he produced a little carving of a bird from his pocket. (And, no, he didn’t make it).

“Oh!” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, gently taking it from him, “It’s beautiful!”

All his responsibilities and stresses melted away with the sight of that smile, and he forgot there was anyone else at the party…in the world.

(…He wished he saw that smile anymore.)

Zeus’ chair was spinning empty at his desk before his assistant could say another word—

And Olympus wept, distant peals of thunder rending the sky into pieces.

Lightning crackled and cackled through his hair, creating violet tracks through the air, as Zeus sped through the sky.

It was freezing, and people were staring, but he didn’t care.

All that mattered was getting to his wife.

“My you look stunning.” Zeus sidled up behind his wife, running his fingers gently along her arm. “Is that a new dress?”

“New as that girlfriend of yours.” Hera grunted.

His eyes widened with shock, his voice with an indignant undertone to it. “Is something wrong?”

She paused a moment. He could see words fluttering behind her lips—(like they did so often, too often)—the words Yes you did something wrong, how can you not know?

He knew she wouldn’t believe him when he said he didn’t mean to hurt her.

“You weren’t invited,” she said softly.

“Not invited? Me?” He put his hand to his chest, like the thought of him ever not being welcome to somewhere was absurd. “To what?”

“The party, you nitwit!” She whirled around, her hair nearly whipping him in the face. “You just came barging in like you owned the place!”

“Well…to be fair—”

He stopped short at the look in her eyes, like two blue-hot flames.

He knew it was taking her a great amount of effort not to slap him.

“Do you know how long I’d been preparing for that?! How long it took me to get everything just right? I told you, but you never even listened, did you? And then you just barged right in!”

“Why are you so upset? What’s so important about a party?!”

“They were my friends.” Her gaze softened, and her tone became more serious. “They were—” Until she cut herself off, and her expression hardened as she whirled around, her hair billowing behind her.

“Bunny, wait!” His tone was softer too.

He wished she’d just turn around. That he could say sorry.

Was it really so hard? He should have started there.

Had he ever apologized for that?

He was always doing that; barging in where he wasn’t welcome. The world was his, yes but…he had to concede there were some parts of it he ought not just barge in on.

When he burst into the hospital, however, they wouldn’t dare tell him he wasn’t invited, wouldn’t dare tell him he couldn’t see her.

“Where. is my. wife?” Lightning slammed into a lamppost just outside the front door, shattering its glass box, and making the light spark, the rain pounding at the window like rabid dogs.

The desk clerk looked like she was about to pee out of sheer fear.

“Sh-sh-she’s not out of surgery yet, your majesty...I understand you want to see her, but I can’t let you…until-until they’re finished.” She was practically vibrating. “I assure you the moment she gets out, we’ll notify you.”

Surgery? He wanted to demand. She��s the queen of the gods, how could she be in surgery?

Electricity sparked in his eyes, trailing throughout his hair. He could say I demand you let me see her. He could say I don’t care! She’s my wife, and I’m not waiting! She’s fine! She’s the queen—she’s my queen—she won’t be hurt from a little car accident!

But there were some places he ought not just barge in on… and the surgeons room was probably one of them.

The lightning let out a sighing crackle, before he closed his eyes, his hair falling back upon his shoulders. It was then that he noticed he was dripping wet from head to toe. He sighed himself before muttering something like a garbled “I understand, thank you.” And turning to sit in the lobby. Behind him the desk clerk’s coworker held her to keep her from fainting.

He snapped his fingers, drying off, so as not to get their nice, barf-colored carpet all wet. Once he sat down in a chair—(the cushions didn’t have any cush to them)—a kid in the chair across from him scooched away.

He could have that kid lightly charred if he wanted.

Instead he settled for a nice glare, and reached over to pick up last month’s—(or maybe it was a few months ago)—issue of  “Goddess weekly” listening to the rain die down to a drum.

The same old gossip. Usually if he picked one of these up he’d check for any news he ought to be aware of. You know, as the king. Not to mention the ladies weren’t unappealing. Now he flicked through without seeing any of it.

Speaking of ladies, there was a nymph sitting across the room from him, her skin blue, her ears down, and a cute little half smile. She surely wasn’t in here for anything serious. She kept glancing from her own magazine to him—but not in a nervous way. If he wasn’t mistaken, she wouldn’t be opposed to a session of hide-the-German-sausage.

If he wanted he could take her there in a darkened closet in the hallway. It wouldn’t take long—(if it didn’t need to…or it could take all night). That would be a nice way to relieve the stress bubbling in his body.

—Someone was laying next to him, her skin smooth, practically glowing. There was rather a lot of it exposed.

She turned over, her eyes fluttering open, a small smile creasing her features as she rolled onto his chest, tickling his chin with her fingers.

“I had a wonderful time,” she twittered, and he practically purred, staring into those big blue eyes, glittering like river stones.

He pushed her green hair behind her ear.

“Is that all? I’d like to think a night with the King of the gods would be more than merely ‘wonderful.’”

She giggled. “No no, it was much more than wonderful! It was spectacular! Mind-blowing!” She threw her arms in the air.

“That’s more like it.” He grinned—

When was that again? Two years ago, or two days ago?

It could have been either.

Had he apologized for that?

Would it have mattered if he had? Would she have forgiven him? Would he have stopped?—

Bile rose in his throat, and he dove his nose so hard into the magazine he almost smacked himself with it.

His wife was bruised and bleeding, and potentially worse in a nearby room, at the mercy of some quack holding a scalpel and a few comforting words…and here he was thinking of betraying her for the…

How many times had it been now?

He threw the magazine back on the table and sank in the chair till his head was nearly on the bottom cushion, his lip flapping his he blew out a breath, making his hair fly up a little.

The kid and his mom got called, and seemed glad of a reason to leave.

After a healthy dose of moping he pulled out his phone. After checking fatesbook and playing a few games he decided it was time to open his messages.

He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted some sensible and non-conjugal company.

He scrolled through and clicked on a name.

A number of old conversations sprinkled the page, often detailing Zeus asking about getting together and the correspondent saying they were busy.

He thought a moment about what to say—(a rare occurrence for him)—before deciding any vague requests would probably get ignored, so he simply decided the boldfaced truth:

Hera’s been in a car accident. She’s in surgery.

“WHAT?!” The word was spoken aloud—and very loudly at that.

Hades was standing in front of him. If the king being here wasn’t enough reason for weird looks, this outburst had sent more than a few eyes their way.

Zeus did a finger wave at the nymph, before he grabbed his brother’s arm, whisking him off to a less crowded hallway.

The only thing here was a vending machine, and a few overly picturesque pictures of trees.

“How did this happen?!”  Hades shout-whispered.

“I would venture to guess she was driving too fast.”

“I could have gathered that myself, thank you very much!” Hades was clearly trying not to shout. “What was she doing?! Where was she going?!”

Zeus rolled folded his arms. “Does it matter?”

“Sure it matters! Well at least it’d be good to know!”

“…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?! What do you mean you don’t know?! She’s your wife—!”

“I said I don’t know!” he kicked the vending machine.

The air shattered and reformed itself.

Zeus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, his voice softening. “I…I don’t know.”

Two sides of him warred. One wanted to shout at Hades. He expected him to know where she was at all times? Oh yeah, that would go over well with her. What kind of helicopter husband would he be then?

And yet, it felt wrong for him not to know. Like some sort of failure. She was his wife. Shouldn’t he? Shouldn’t he have asked? Shouldn’t he care?

Hades’ gaze softened.

“I upset her.” Zeus murmured. “We got into a fight.”

Hades leaned against the wall. He was probably resisting the urge to say he could have gathered that too.

Zeus leaned his head forward onto the glass of the vending machine, his hair falling to the side, his reflection vaguely eyeing him.

“We got into a fight and she…I hadn’t even realized she went for a drive.” He paused, observing the chocolate and chips sitting in neat rows in the machine. “Do you think she liked Twyx?”

“Huh?”

“Do you think she liked Twyx?”

Hades pondered it a moment. “Probably. She tends to like things with caramel in them.”

Zeus smiled wryly. “See? I didn’t even know that.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to ask her all your burning questions about her favorite candy flavors very soon.”

“That’s not the point.” Zeus whispered.

Zeus was feeling a little off-kilter.

He nearly fell into a three-thousand drachma vase.

Okay, make that a lot.

The sound of heels on the staircase. The white one they’d painted for that one event…what had they been celebrating again?

His hazy gaze made her glitter even more than usual.

“Have I ever told you that you’re like the sea on a summer’s day?” Zeus’ voice came out blurry. He put his hand in his hair, trying to look sexy, you know, like the kind of guy you’d wanna forgive.

This was met by her hair slapping him in the face as she walked by him. She paused a few steps below him, turning.

“Is that alcohol I smell on your breath?”

“I may have had one—“ He hiccuped, “or five, appletinis.”

“And this is what? An intelligent conversation you’re trying to have?” She folded her arms over her chest.

“Actually,” he held up a finger. The action made him feel off-balance so he leaned against the railing, trying to land in a sexy pose. “There is something I wanted to say.”

“You’re barely coherent when you’re sober, at least spare me until then.”

He rolled his eyes—(and made himself feel even dizzier).

She turned to go back up the stairs.

“Wait!” He shouted.

She stopped, looked over her shoulder, eyes narrow as a cat’s. “What?”

“I-hic!” He covered his mouth as if embarrassed. Clearly emotion was dangerous. “I wasn’t trying to get wasted! I just-hic!-needed more than three or four to say this.”

“Oh yeah? Spit it out Grape Sorbet.” She folded her arms over her chest.

“I’m…” he held on to the railing for support. “I’m sorry.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“You…You were right.” He took a step closer.

“About what?” Her breath bated.

“I just…I didn’t want to admit it. I couldn’t…” He looked away. “I couldn’t tell you sober.”

“About what?” The words had a rough edge to them, her chest heaving with breath.

Ah. She knew. She knew what he was going to say, even before he said it.

“I…I did cheat on you.”

“Wh-What?” Her eyes tinted red…but there was so much hurt in the word.

Fear and shame rose in tandem like ocean waves, threatening to bowl him over, and he realized that the truth wasn’t going to help at all. But all he could do was let it pour out of him.

“You-hic-You asked if I was with-hic—”

“Stop.” She covered her mouth as if to keep the worst words from spilling out, tears welling in her eyes.

“But I—”

“I said stop!” Her voice rang through the room like something shattering.

Maybe something was.

Her heels against the stairs, fast and sharp, and away.

“Wait!”

Turn around please, let me apologize, let me explain, I won’t do it again.

He threw up in the vase.

“Daddy? What was that all about?” The small voice made his blood run cold. “What did you cheat at? Were you playing a game?”

Zeus turned, horrified, to see Ares, hiding behind a crack in the door.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at her.” He breathed. “It was stupid, really.”

Hades put a dollar in the vending machine and punched in a number.

“People say all kinds of things when they’re angry. Doesn’t mean you’re bad, just means you’re people. Which…” Hades looked him up and down, adding under his breath, “I wonder about sometimes.”

“...You must think I’m a terrible husband.”

Hades grabbed two chocolate bars and handed one to his brother.

“I think you need something sweet, maybe a little hydration, and some rest.”

Zeus unwrapped the bar and took a bite, not really tasting anything.

After a moment Hades sighed.

“It’s not so simple as that.” Hades said between bites, “I don’t necessarily think there’s such a thing as a ‘terrible husband’ or ‘the best husband.’ I…I don’t even think there’s such a thing as good and bad people. There’s just…people. There’s just husbands. But there are rules that come with being a person, and/or being a husband and…” he paused, trying to choose his words carefully, “you don’t always follow those rules.”

Zeus fell back against the wall, looking at the floor, denials dying in his throat.

It was raining.

No, actually it was pouring. And thundering. The lightning was like cracks in a collapsing sky, and Zeus’s gut was twisting like the snakes on the head of a gorgon.

“What? You-you think you can just undo this?!” Hera’s words were biting. “It’s done!” Her laugh was wry and sardonic, like an ache in her throat, red tainting the blue of her eyes. “You can’t just fix something like that! Once someone cheats at the game no one else just keeps playing!”

“It was a mistake! One stupid night!”

“One stupid night, huh?! Then how do you explain this?!” She held up his phone. The pictures. The…Oh Gaia.

The snakes in his gut bit down, and he bit his lip looking away. He hadn’t known she knew about that.

“You’ve got it all wrong! That was just—!”

“I thought you were different!” She bit off his excuse, the anger cracked, and the pain was bleeding through, and he wasn’t the only one making it rain: A tear fell down her face, then another, her mascara running black along her cheeks. “You made me smile, you made me laugh! You saved your brothers from your father. And I thought we could make a kingdom—a world—together!” She shook her head, grimacing, trying and failing to keep more tears from falling. “I thought we could be something!”

“We are! We have! I just made a mistake! I—!”

“No, Zeus.” There was a finality to her tone.

Tears streamed down her face now. He hated it when she cried. She didn’t do it often, and whenever she did he was ready to smite whoever hurt her but…he’d hurt her worst of all.

“I thought you were different. But you’re—“ the words were like an antique vase, riddled with cracks. “You’re just another bad guy.” She punched him in the arm, and the vase broke, the defiance into pain. She punched him in the arm…but it was weak and far too soft, and that’s how he knew she was really hurt; she could bring the sky down on him if she wanted.

She looked down at her hand, twisting her wedding ring with a finger.

“I’m staying with a friend tonight.”

Her wedding ring tinkled on the floor.

As she turned and walked away the word rang out like he was hoping his voice alone could rewrite his sins and bring her back:

“Wait!”

She didn’t stop, didn’t turn, didn’t make any indication she’d even heard him.

“Please…Please just wait.” These were soft.

He fell to his knees on the marble, scooping up her wedding ring and enclosing it in his fingers, holding it to his forehead, and trying not to bring the sky down upon himself.

He’d seen her angry. He’d seen her sad. But this? Seeing her break for him…was so much worse.

It reminded him too much of another time. Of a scar on her stomach. How she broke herself just to be his.

—(And he wondered, for a fleeting moment, if it would have been better if he had been the one to break.)—

“There you are!” Said a voice. “You can come see her now,”—a cleared throat— “your Majesty.”

*

Notes: Aright, so this chapter had a few things I was unsure about I thought I’d ask about here!

1. Does anyone have any other clever play-on-words for candy brands? I feel like Zeus would know that she likes caramel in general, so it’d make more sense if Hades said “she likes [X similar candy] so she’d probably like Twyx.” But Twyx is all my brain came up with and I don’t even know that it’s all that good XD

2. I’m aware that the gods don’t call each other “people” they call each other “beings.” However, Hades’ lines don’t have as much impact with “beings.” Did the fact that I used “people” stick out too much? Should I change it to “beings”?

3. I know Ancient Greek wedding ceremonies are different from ours, and they might not even have wedding rings. But that image was so impactful for me I decided to use it. Should I remove it? Or did you find it impactful?

Please let me know if there’s anything you felt was inaccurate to their characters!!

Thanks so much for reading!! 💕💕

[tailorvizsla]

Hi! I really love your writing, and I was wondering if you could write a story about Grogu interacting with mother!Reader, preferably from Grogu’s perspective? I love and simp for Din as much as the next horny life form, but I also have the instictinual need to mother and baby Grogu every time I see him on screen 🥺 Thank you!!!

Title: Little Cold Fingers Pairing: None intended. (Maybe there could be a hint of Din Djarin x OC if you squint?) Wordcount: ~1200 Rating: PG Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, AU (because the Razor Crest lives, damnit), blink-and-you’ll-miss-it bittersweet introspection Author’s Notes: Thank you for the ask, @zeuswasaslut​! I hope you enjoy this! Grogu muses about the woman he sees as his mother.  :D

Feel free to send in asks or requests! My inbox is open.

📚 My Master List 📚  

It was so cold.

Colder than anything he had ever known before. Even when he had been locked up with the Bad People, his little fingers and toes had never hurt from the cold like this before. For hours, white fluff had been piling up against the sides of the Big Noisy – Razor Crest, as Baba called the ship – while wind howled and screamed. The metal walls protecting them muffled most of the noise, but his ears still hurt when the wind grew shrill.

Grogu felt a familiar tickling in his nose and sneezed, tucking his face into his elbow. Just like Bu taught him to avoid spreading germs.

His cold ears lifted as Bu came into the room.

“Are you cold, little one?” she asked in her sweet voice.

He trilled at her, hoping she would understand his annoyance as he lifted his arms to her. Two very warm arms scooped him up. Grogu clung to the front of her shirt as she settled him into her warm, fluffy vest, buttoning it up until only his face and ears were poking out over the top.

“There we go,” she said, her voice a little bit muffled. “Better?”

He let out a cheeeep. Much better.

This is how he preferred being carried. This place right next to Bu’s heart was warm and secure. He could also watch everything that was going on. And maybe steal some bites of whatever Bu was eating or drinking. Bu went to the cabinet and grabbed her little basket of sewing supplies. Then she put his old pants down on the table.

How did she always find the holes in his clothes so quickly? He watched as she snipped off a piece of khaki thread and threaded it through the needle. She sewed the patch on quickly, her needle flashing in the dim light as it worked in and out of the fabric. She started to sing quietly. He knew this song and his ears perked up.

He tried singing with her, but his mouth couldn’t form the mouth noises right. So, he just made it up as he went along. Her happiness bubbled up like the fizzy water she bought in town, or maybe like those pretty yellow flowers they had picked a long time ago.

He started to giggle, unable to hold back his glee as the little flecks of Bu’s joy alighted on his upturned face like sunshine. Then Bu started to laugh along with him, and they shared their little butterfly kisses of joy until he couldn’t breathe and he forgot what song they were singing.

“One day, you’ll sing along with me,” Bu said, and he felt a flash of sadness, because that heavy presence in his chest told him that they weren’t going to have much longer together. He pushed it away. No matter how short their time together was, he would love every moment of it, and keep the memories near his heart.

“There we go,” she said, holding up his pants. “I wish I could get you some new ones, but…not this time, I think. Maybe next month. I should be able to sell some of my embroidery at the market. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

He cooed.

All that mattered to him was that she fixed them. Their family didn’t have much, but they were happy. He was happy, and that was all he cared about after so many years with the Bad People. No matter how many holes he accidentally put into his clothes, Bu always patched them up. Even if they ate the same thing over and over, his tummy was always full. (Having a full tummy never stopped him from hunting his favorite snacks, even if the wriggly ones made Bu scream a bit.)

Suddenly, the big door in the back of the ship sank down, letting a gust of ice-cold wind and snow into the ship. Grogu immediately felt a rush of pure elation fill him as Baba climbed up the long ramp, dragging a big bag behind himself. The bag was full of something but it was empty, the kind of emptiness Grogu knew not to ask about. Baba threw the bag into the Forbidden Room and locked the door. Then he came closer.

Grogu reached out with one hand and squeezed Baba’s icy fingers.

“Hey, kid,” he said. “Being good?”

Always.

He chirped and pulled his arm back into the safe, warm cocoon inside Bu’s vest. He sneezed. This time, he wasn’t able to cover his face in time, so he wiped his face with his sleeve. Icky.

“Is it still too cold?” Baba asked, and Grogu could feel his concern. It was prickly and sharp and made his nose tickle. He didn’t like it that much. Bu nodded.

“I think the heating coils have gone out again,” she responded. “I couldn’t figure it out from the cockpit.”

“Kriff,” Baba sighed. “I’ll get us out of here. Then I’ll see what I can do for repairs, alright? Keep him warm.”

“Aye,” Bu says, “Hear that, Grogu? You get to hang out with me for a little longer.”

He had no problem staying here where it was warm. Bu shivered. Grogu could feel her discomfort, and he grumbled to himself, tugging at Baba with that warm feeling in his chest. Baba paused. He reached up and unpinned his cloak. Then he draped it around them, nestling it around her shoulders.

“Keep that until I can get this icebox warmed up,” Baba said. “And you. Ask before doing that again. Remember what we said about privacy?”

Grogu chirped sheepishly and nodded. He did forget about that rule a lot. Good thing Baba never got angry with him. He closed his eyes and tilted his head up into Baba’s hand as he rubbed his ears. The Bad People pinched him a lot but his buire never hurt him. It made him feel very happy and safe.

Baba reached up and pinned the material into place, draping it around his head. Grogu relaxed as Baba went to the ladder. He wanted his ball, but he wanted to stay here more than he wanted his toy. He tilted his head back, noting the big smile on Bu’s face. He chirped. Maybe one day Baba would take his big shiny hat off for Bu.

Grogu yawned and wiped at his eyes. Then he pulled his head in and wriggled around until he was facing Bu. He felt her button up the vest around his head and it got nice and dark. Just what his eyes needed for a quick nap.

Even though he had only known his Baba and his Bu for just a few months, he had never felt this safe and happy before. He knew this was where his home was and where he was going to stay.

With those thoughts out of the way, Grogu drifted off, imagining all the wonderful, tasty food his Bu would make for him tonight.

-

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Tags:

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[pink-purplesunset]

A light cannot exist without shadow.

Before the history that people like you and I know, Gods walked the Earth like common man. Virgin lands laid untouched and unbroken, waters ran clear and free of debris. Gods had a much simpler view on life. Many things as well as what happened to mere mortals, left them unbothered. Because of this, they then chose to leave the land, returning to the sky. In their wake they left their children to rule Earth, to keep it from ending in chaos.

There were two sides both ruled by family blood, one of light, the other of dark. The first born, named Jin, came to be known as a being of darkness, an evil no one had seen before. Soon many others who shared that same deep iniquity began to follow him, morphing into what the people called Dreadlings. They took a form stuck between light and dark, eventually forming the largest army of men and women on the planet. With this power Jin ruled the planet and for many years all people knew was darkness.

Years later, his sister gracefully named Nabi, was born. She radiated light, love and all that is good and had come into the world as a bright beacon for many. Her union onto Earth had been celebrated, a prophecy had been filled giving many the courage to stand up to the darkness that had overtaken the land. Nabi was quickly labeled their savior, and thrust into the role of Earth's Guardian.

Contradictory to might you may think, both sides united as one.

With a small army Nabi confronted her brother, her charms and purity quickly talking him down from his horrid reign. From that day both siblings remained close and confided in each other to rule to planet as two instead of one. Peace was to remain on both sides for the remainder of their immortal lives, both making agreements to never harm one another.

Many years later is where this story begins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On an ordinary day, one with warm winds and feathery skies, a hummed song hangs in the air, coming from a figure that bathes in a waterfall nearby. The area is secluded on each side by natural rocks and tall pine trees, a field of colorful wild flowers blanketing the surrounding area.

Nabi runs her fingers through silvery locks, sighing in ecstasy when the cold-water leaves goosebumps on her skin in contrast to the warm sun. She was used to days like this, with birds chirping in her ear and the smell of wild mint in the air.

Every day was almost completely the same for her and had been since her descend onto Earth.

She would be awoken by one of her chambermaids, they would help her into a morning steam, feed her, brush her hair and adorn her in clothes and jewelry that were made by the God Plutus, a regular gift she would receive from her family to praise her for getting along with her brother. Then she would be whisked off to play the role of mediator and politician, listening to the complaints and opinions of the people, an event the Primary Gods had suggested to keep the people happy, only to then be ushered into the Chapel to be broadcasted across the world giving the morning prayers. Something enforced by the clergy so that the Primary Gods would not be forgotten. By noon, she was off to some lectures which gave her more insight on how the common man lived, giving her a looks at which areas of the world needed her healing the most.

She lived this life everyday without stray. Until recently.

She, her brother and their armies, where the only being on Earth that could manipulate reality. Nabi could control elements, weather, the human body and much more. Her brother could do the same but in opposite effects. She found herself free time under the mask of ability training.

A few hours before dusk she would visit the stable under disguise and gallop off on her favorite friesian outside the kingdom walls to a place she only knew. Here she could be herself, do what she wanted and imagine a life where she was normal. A life where she would be able to find a love, have kids and a simple job before coming home for the night to a family.

This became her new normal.

Gradually her brother began to find out, only giving her a mild scolding before focusing on the many tasks that encompassed a a kingdom. Eventually as she would sneak out more and was caught, the scolding became punishment.

There was many rules amongst her life and one of them was never letting someone outside the inner walls of the palace to see her appearance. She was a goddess of purity, anyone who started to lust after her could taint her aura, eventually turning her into a being like her brother. The Primary Gods demanded balance, she was to never be tainted or it would bring the end to her and her brother.

But Nabi had a rebellious soul. She would continue to sneak out, no matter what her brother threatened.

Nabi sighed in delight once again as the water left small pools on her body, smiling when she noticed a curious bystander near the entrance to her secluded area. She knew him well, a soldier sided with the light and a fierce warrior she had watched from the sidelines for some time now. He had been drawn in by the sweet sound of her voice before, something he could not resist. He had visited her often within the past months, giving her something, someone, to look forward to.

She knew he could not see much of her as the waterfall did well to give her a natural veil, all to be seen was her hair, as it twinkled like stars whenever the light caught it. She watched as he stared in wonder, still oblivious to her own. She abruptly stopped the humming and stepped out of the running water allowing her eyes to peer into his own, which now were splayed wide with fear.

It was absolute law never to approach or see the Guardian unless given clearance, offenders would face the wrath of Jin aka death.

Before he could run, Nabi let out a small chuckle making him stop in his tracks. She held eye contact with him, not bothering to dress in her robes before she walked forward.

He had seen her like this before.

"You came to see me again." She smiled.

Not believing his senses the man remained frozen. Nabi made her way directly in front of him, in all her glory. She continued to smile, trying to fill the man with ease.

"You are Jimin correct?" Her features remained soft and her eyes twinkled. "You should really try and hide yourself more, I catch you being here everytime." He continued to gape at her, not sure of how to react. "It's nice to meet you again." She added with a grin, her hand glided from her side to grab his.

Jimin gulped and continued to stare at her flawless skin.

"I- I did not mean to oppose on you Guardian."

He then diverted his eyes down, not mustering the courage to bring his hand away from hers.

With a small laugh Nabi pulled him closer to her. Her unoccupied hand came up and began stroking the man's hair. Causing Jimin to hold his breath.

"It's alright." She laughs. "you being here tends to make my day." She hugged him a little closer, always eager for a warm embrace. "Besides... I happen to know that you like being here too."

Within her embrace she allows the memories she had taken from him to flow back. With a small gasp Jimin brings his eyes back to hers.

Nabi laughs at the familiar reaction.

"Please stay." She whispers once she recognizes the familiar lust that settles in his eyes.

Jimin lets out the breath he was holding and pushes away from her in shock.

"Am I not to be punished?!" He spoke loudly. Causing Nabi's smile to slip. "Isn't this breaking the law?!

Putting back on her smiley mask, she puts both hands over the man's mouth. She could never get used to his reaction, even after experiencing it many times.

"My brother is not here and you side with me. Fear nothing."

She takes her hands away and wraps one around his wrist dragging him backwards with her into the water.

"Come now."

Nabi frowns when he is not looking as she is running behind schedule now and her guards will soon come looking for her.

Jimin does nothing but comply, hushed by her words and newly acquired memories serving him well. When both are fully under the roaring waterfall, he smiles at the small invisible bubble protecting them from the heavy water above. He eyes Nabi from head to toe before capturing her lips in his. She smiles at him in childish wonderment before diving back into him for more. His hands begin to move over her body, ghosting over her nipples to pull a moan from her. He bites her lip as he smiles although it begins to fall.

"Please don't take these memories away from me again." He asks in a pleading whisper.

He looks into her eyes and can tell she's hiding from him.

From yards away both of them can hear the footfalls of horses.

"I'm afraid we must part now." She breathes out, distancing herself but catching his hands in hers once again. "Please visit again, I really miss you when you're gone."

A sadness overtakes Jimin's face but is quickly replaced with panic as Nabi places her hand on his forehead and wipes the memories of their meeting from his mind. She places him gently on the dry moss below them, her magic still protecting the area from the water above.

With one final look she once again leaves the waterfall and dresses in time for her guards to appear through the trees. One dressed in gold ornate armor, displaying her own insignia, the other made up in an armor of volcanic rock that somehow still glows red hot.

"You know the entire palace begins to panic in your absence." States the one in gold. He looks to his side where Jin's soldier stands. "Please do not force me out here with one of the Dreadlings again."

Nabi smiles and begins to walk towards the two.

"Where would the kingdom be without you playing my babysitter Hobi?" She allows them to place her veil over her head and help her onto her horse. "Although I do agree that my brother did not have to send one of his own." She squints at the heat radiating off the man as she looks at him. "The fresh air must feel like poison to you V."

The dark soldier remains stoic and leaves to mount his own horse with no reply.

"Always a man of many words." Remarks Hobi as they all set off towards the palace.

The ride takes them down the steep mountainside, through a forest of large cedars and along the edge of the wall that surrounds the kingdom. They tactfully stop at a spot on the northside of the wall, where Nabi is able to manipulate some loose rock and allow a gap big enough for them to walk through with their horses.

"How will your brother feel knowing you have left the walls again?" V finally speaks up once they are inside.

Nabi just smiles and closes the wall behind them.

"Why must you threaten me with this same line every time you're forced to fetch me? We both know you don't plan on telling him. "

V sighs and continues to peer forwards, knowing too that she speaks the truth. After a few more minutes sulking he again speaks up.

"You rely too much on the false relationship you've created for us in your head. You know who I remain loyal to."

Nabi giggles and shakes off the remark.

"Ok, Ok Mr. IHateFriendshipandLove. I will believe your words from now on until proven otherwise." She rides up closer to him and whispers "I'll tell the chefs to serve japchae in the commissary tonight." He shivers from their closeness while with a wink she makes her way away from him and towards Hobi.

After follows a few minutes of silence with the exception of chuckles she and Hobi share in their own conversation. V then clears his throat, edging his horse on to get closer to the two. He makes sure to make eye contact with Nabi.

"Although I do not appreciate the endearment of friendship, I will gladly accept the food."

He then hurries his horse forward.

Behind him, Nabi and Hobi share another knowing look and a small laugh as they continue to the gate of the palace. It is a massive structure, half white, half black marble, with gold welded gates connecting it's center. On all sides it is guarded by a mix of gold and black clade soldiers.

"May the dark bring forth the light!" All the soldiers shout when they identify her and draw the gate upwards.

Entering, Nabi breaks off from her two escorts, turning in her saddle to address the two men.

"You guys can head back to the barracks, I can take it from here."

Hobi gives her a deliberate glare.

"Promise to appear before your brother as soon as possible so he does not kill us both and NO more adventures today." He makes sure to point at her to add emphasis.

Nabi rolls her eyes. "I would never allow him to do such a thing." Hobi opens his mouth ready to retort. "-But I promise to see him to save you both from his nagging."

"Thank you, milady." Hobi jeers with a silly bow, still on his horse. "Now stay out of trouble and I shall see you later after dinner." He gives a big wave and follows V towards the side of the palace where workers and military are housed.

"Let's go Lucent." She pats her horse's shoulder and gives him a small squeeze to continue to the stable she and Jin shared.

Like usual, the overly decorated palace yards were occupied by the gardeners that kept it looking clean and the pious followers that would used the gardens as a place to pray. Regardless of who they were, when they noticed Nabi, they would drop what they were doing to pay respect to her. Something she did not always enjoy. Finally making her way towards the royal wing and the stables that connected to it, she was met by her stable hand Yoongi with is arms crossed.

"Overstayed your time outside again I see." He uncrossed his arms and grabbed her horse by the bridle. "I should have known something was up when Lucent was gone from his stall again this morning." He gave a small smile while petting the horse on his nose. He looked up to Nabi "Do you want me to put him away for you?"

Nabi dismounted and gave Lucent a big hug around his neck.

"Yes, thank you. You're once again a lifesaver Yoongi." She let go of the horse and handed the reins over to him. "I'm unfortunately late to a meeting to humor my brother right now, as it seems everyone in the palace knows I was outside again."

"You're not exactly secretive about it anymore." Yoongi states.

Nabi gives him a cheeky smile. Yoongi clears his throat and begins to take care of the horse. "Sorry Guardian, I'll just be on my way."

He walks away and glances behind him to see Nabi gathering her long robes and hurriedly walking up the many steps that led to the entrance of the colossal palace.

Nabi could hear Yoongi's small laugh from behind her as she went, making her smile.

Many of the palace workers that recognized her would too stop what they were doing to bow, she would do her best to do the same with her hurried pace. Not even bothering to change out of her normal robes, a somewhat dull look compared to her usual attire to help her blend in, as she ran to find the door to her brother's room.

Stepping inside, she was met with a brotherless room. She wrapped her arms around herself, needing a source of comfort to prepare her for the talk she was about to get. There was nothing dark and scary about the place, but it still caused a cold chill to run down her back and the hairs on her arms raise. The room was very well kept considering Jin did not let any workers into the room or around his belongings. As she walked further in, the corner of the room drew Nabi's attention where a large canvas sat, the first few details of a panting started. There was a deep emotion attached to it, something dark and consuming, as well as many other feelings she was unable to be explain, it was all lost to her. On the painting, all she could make out was a figure in gold armor, the face all too familiar.

"Do you like it?" Jin whispered out of nowhere making her jump.

"Brother." She breathes out, spinning to face him, holding her heart. "I was just admiring what you've started."

Jin faces the painting but looks towards Nabi out of the corner of his eye.

"I needed something to do when I cannot sleep. My dreams have not been kind recently."

One of Jin's individual traits was seeing the future in his dreams.

"I told you to come find me when you are troubled." Nabi worries over him and places a hand on his forearm.

Jin places his hand over her own.

"It is but a small issue for the time being, the dreams change daily. You know I'd come to you if it were anything important."

Nabi looks to her brother as he further studies the mostly empty canvas. The bad feelings inside her grow worse.

"I sense something growing, it radiates around the room. It makes me sick to my stomach." She barely speaks out loud.

Jin shows no further emotion but she can tell he fakes a smile as he turns to her again.

"I doubt it has anything to do with the otherworldly. I shall send one of your maidens to get you a medicine. Go rest and try not to venture too far from the walls again."

Nabi froze, hoping to skip the scolding today.

"I'm sorry-"

Jin raises a hand to stop her.

"I sent another to watch you. A little birdy had told me V has been less than useful lately."

Nabi tries to show no fear in her features but couldn't withhold her good nature.

"You didn't hurt him, did you?"

Jin looks to the ground with a small laugh but his eyes snap to her full of rigidness.

"My soldiers should be none of your concern sister."

A very uncommon emotion for Nabi started to rear its head. She clenched her fists to her side, nails digging into her palms.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" She breathes out trying to calm herself. "Do I not rule this kingdom by your side? Are we not equals?" She steps further into his space. "Tell me if he's hurt so I can help him."

Jin closes the gap between them, capturing her chin between his fingers.

"You know better than to speak to me that way. Know your place girl and do not test me."

She pushes away from his grasp but does not retreat.

"Know my place?! You are nothing without me." She growls.

Jin looked to her with a raised brow, a smirk growing, he breaks the tension with loud claps.

"Now this is a side of you I've rarely seen, let's hope your holy followers in the palace have not heard." He crosses his arms, his right hand playing with his chin in thought. "Although I quite like this side of you." His sickening smile grows.

Nabi comes back to reality quickly, a little shocked herself.

"I-I'm sorry brother." She holds her hands close to her chest. Panic setting her pulse ablaze. "It's this room it makes me...on edge. I do not understand these emotions I'm feeling."

Jin gives her a dismissive gesture, Nabi could not help but feel as though he had meant this meeting to go this way. Like he had expected her to act in such a way.

"Apology accepted." He grabs her by the shoulders and aims her towards the door. "Leave me and get some rest. I'll help the cooks make your favorite soup for dinner."

Nabi turns to hug her brother, not used to small spats with him.

"I love you brother."

Jin lets out a small sigh but answers back.

"As do I sister."

She did not feel any emotion behind the words.

He gently pulls her off himself and walks her to his door. Nabi shows herself out as he closes the door behind her. She catches her lip in her teeth trying to understand the interaction that happened minutes ago, her mind drawing a blank. She can count on one hand the amount of times she has felt anger before, and each has left her with a sense of amnesia. Her soul was not made to house such an emotion. She was created to do and spread good, not to wish harm among others.

Unlike her brother, Nabi is closer in comparison to those who are considered a normal person. Some say she has not reached her full potential yet; she believes she was made that way for a reason. To further her knowing of empathy among the humans, something she cannot rule without.

A hand reaches out to grab her arm. Startling her once again into reality. She did not know how long she had been standing outside her brother's door.

"Guardian." One of her maids, Sara, greets her. "I was told you are not feeling well. Allow me to lead you to your suite."

Nabi just nods. Slipping back into her mind. She contemplates the occurrences in her life, those that had led her into small fits of anger. The first occurrence being when she was a child and a follower had offered her a small poodle as a gift. Later in the day another child had tried to play with it, resulting in the kid crying in the dirt with a bloody nose. The other big occurrence being over a tear in her favorite dress, where she was then being rushed away from a fire, she had started over the bush that had torn it. Today's incident was nowhere near the worse, but it had been a good five years since she had been lost away in such blackness.

Numbly she finally realizes that the sun has set, and she has been tucked into her oversized bed. Sara places a tray full of fruits and the soup her brother had made on her lap.

"You brother said there's leftovers in the kitchen must you want more. I'll be right outside if you need anything more of me."

Nabi gives her a small smile and begins to pick at the fruit on her tray. Usually being her favorite thing to eat, the soup her brother had made seeps off the smell of rotting flesh, quickly making her throw up everything she had eaten that day.

"My dear." Sara runs to her side, starting to clean up the mess. "Are you feeling that ill Guardian?"

She begins to feel her head for signs of fever, while drawing Nabi up from her soiled bed.

"Please sit." She sets Nabi down on an overstuffed couch. "I'll make another bath for you."

Her consciousness fades in and out, finally laying way to a dreamland.

She is once again in her favorite place. The water roars above her but she is not alone. A familiar figure stands in her embrace and warms her soul. With such a perfect scene, she is surprised to find tears covering her cheeks. A deep ache resonates through her chest, she looks down so see a black liquid staining her skin and a hole where her heart should be. Without a warning the man brushes the tears from her face, then brushes back small strands of hair. He captures her cheeks in both hands before kissing her. He smells of earth and tastes of mint. Her heart begins to thrum happily, quicker and quicker as the kiss develops into one of shared tongues and quiet sighs. The ache in her chest also grows. She breaks the kiss to looks down upon herself again, seeing cracks splintering over her skin like cracked stone. It is realized then what this dream is trying to tell her, the thing that would continue to bring on these dark occurrences in her life. If she continued on her path, Love would surely be the best and worst thing to ever happen to her.

[calif0rnia-lovers]

i want you around.

song link incase you didn’t catch the vibe from the title. 

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Warnings: None. Just the return of soft Frank doing coupley shit when he’s not even in a “relationship”

Request: You convince to Frank to take a bath with you to help him relax.

Words: 2.3K

“I don’t see what the fuss is all about.”

Frank may not be as wound tight as he is on an average day, but he knows coming over here hopped up on sleep deprivation and mediocre diner food was not the smartest course of action. Even on a rare eight hours of sleep keeping up with you, when you’re in one of your moods, is a challenge. 

In the time he’s known you, Frank has learned you have more than just one. Mood that is. For someone who’s favorite mantra is “I don’t wanna get your hopes up when I’m not the man you’re looking for” Frank is good at remembering the type of things a boyfriend should. 

Strangely enough, he hasn’t quite figured out how to approach this situation. Each attempt he’s taken in the past has failed, miserably. 

His least favorite of your moods is the one you’re in now. This is the one that leaves Frank Castle powerless. It can knock him on his ass quicker than any bullet slung his way.

Frank can take the ‘angry as fucking shit’ mood any day. He can take you laying into him for doing something stupid like showing up to the dinner to meet your friends, for the first time ever, with a fresh black eye and busted lip. He can take the “leave me alone but don’t leave me alone” mood. Comfortable silence is a favorite of Frank’s. On the flip, he can even handle your “my co-worker annoyed the living shit out of me today, so I need you to listen to my rant even if you’re watching the game” mood. He know its best to keep your wine rack stocked with your favorite de-stressor. 

As he thinks about it, trying his best to read the room in your cramped apartment bathroom, Frank realizes his favorite is when you've missed him enough to allow him to latch onto you without protest. 

If he’s being honest, that was the one he was hoping to find you in after a few days apart.

But...he didn’t, and Frank can’t stand the mood you’re in now. 

His fingers comb through his hair, mind racing on a quick solution of getting you out of the “I worry he's giving in again" mood. When he stopped by your apartment this evening, way earlier than his usual 3 a.m. shuffling, Frank wasn’t expecting...this.

The problem with this mood is that you don’t actually say that you’re worried about him. 

Frank can count on his hand the number of times you’ve physically used the word "worried" when speaking about him, at least to his face. 

The "I worry he's giving in again" mood may be his least favorite, but Frank knows he deserves it. He knew you had every right to worry. You were there the last time he let Frank Castle take the back burner while the Punisher went on a rampage. It wasn't pretty.

It also took a lot longer for Frank Castle to return. 

When you’re in this mood, you won't tell Frank what you're thinking. It's not that he won't listen. He will. Frank always listens to you. It's just that his seemingly dormant partner will only let him hear half of what you're saying. 

Instead of long drawn out lectures, your eyes and movements do all the talking. 

But honestly, Frank knew it was bound to happen soon. 

The last time you’d seen him his knuckles were split open, the skin bloody and bruised. A walk in the park compared to the injuries you’ve seen on him before, but you knew the less damage to Frank the worse the result of his actions. 

Frank’s eyes pass over the label on the purple bottle he’s retrieved from the sink, his hand rubbing against the back of his neck.

“...would it kill you to take a night off and relax like a normal person...” Your voice comes back into focus as he glances your way. “....this city is going to kill you, if you let it, Frank.”

“Lucky for you I’m not going down without a fight, sweetheart.” 

The teasing smile on his lips earns Frank a pair of rolling eyes.

“Yeah, well...you should let me do this for you.” You huff as you readjust the knob. “Make up for all the hell you put me through.” 

Frank studies the bottle in his hands before glancing back to you where you sit on the edge of the slowly filling tub.

He softly shakes his head, his chest rising and falling with a huff. 

“Fine,” he murmurs, his brow furrowing as he attempts to make out the label before him. “The things I do for you.” 

You shoot him a wink before dipping your hand in to test the water.

“Lavande de Haute-” His eyes roll as he lifts the bottle. “This crap probably wasn’t even made in France.”

“Whatever. It has lavender which is proven to have aromatherapy benefits such as relaxation.” 

“Uh-huh,” Frank mumbles as he turns the bottle around and begins scanning the back. “Just let me have a beer I’ll relax just fine.”

You stick your hand out, your fingers wagging for his attention.

“Frank, give me the bottle.”

Shrugging off the sink, Frank passes the bottle over, his arms crossing over his chest. 

Turning the bottle upside down, you give it a squeeze smiling as a generous amount of the contents slip into the water. The aroma hits Frank instantly, his now scrunching in distaste at the overpowering scent.

“Nah, I don’t need all that,” he says, the corner of his lips turning up as you glare at him before squeezing in more for good measure adding to the quickly forming bubbles. 

“It’ll be fine,” you wave as you stand. Frank catches your hips the moment you’re upright. He guides your body forward until your hips press against his. The kiss he brushes against your lips drags your fingers through the locks at the nape of his neck. His nose brushes against yours, his brow arching as you lean back to meet his gaze. “I promise your superhuman powers will not dwindle. I might even be able to guarantee your survival because it is one bubble bath. You can make it, I have faith in you, Frank Castle.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles as you stand on your toes to place a quick kiss against his cheek. “Let’s get this over with.”

The triumphant smile on your lips pulls a grin to his.

“I love it when you give me what I want.”

Moving to tug his shirt over his head, Frank begins to undress as you sit the bottle back under the sink. He drops it into your outstretched hand.

“What’s next?” He chuckles as he watches you quickly fold the shirt. “Candles?”

“Of course, what am I? An amateur? Come on.”

“I was kidding,” Frank groans as your fingers interlaced with his.

Frank drags his feet as you lead him into the hallway, his hands finding your waist. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he makes it nearly impossible for you to walk. He presses a soft kiss against your neck, his chin resting against your shoulder as you pause outside of the hallway closet.

Opening the door, you take a moment to study the options listing them off as Frank concentrates on leaving kiss against your skin.

“Pink sands…Mahogany Teakwood...Sandalwood...Amber and Vanilla...Eucalyptus and Siberian Pine....”

When he doesn’t respond, you glance over your shoulder at him expectantly.

His deadpan expression cracks just a little before he huffs.

“Let’s try the Pine one.”

“Eucalyptus and Siberian Pine it is.”

Retrieving the candle, you push it into his hands before shutting the closet and turning down the hall.

Frank’s eyes widen as you disappear around the corner.

“There’s more?”

When you don’t respond, he follows you into the kitchen. His shoulder rests against the wall as you stand on your toes.

“The night is not perfect without.” Rifling through the cabinet, you turn to reveal two wine glasses. “A glass of wine.”

“I’d prefer something a little stronger than that, sweetheart,” he admits as you study the wine rack on your left. “What about that single malt from last time-”

“I thought you were doing this for me.”

You lift the bottle of Pinot Noir. Frank’s eyes roll, but the smile on his lips says it all.

“Trust the process, Frank.”

Frank begins to “trust the process” by focusing on lighting the candle while you cut off the water.

Sitting the candle aside, Frank lets his eyes pass over the ridiculous amount of bubbles on the surface of the steaming water.

“All we need are the rose petals,” you smile as you take in your masterpiece.

Frank chuckles, but the smile on your face makes him wonder if you’re serious.

“Okay, that’s taking it-”

“Kidding,” you smile as your hand finds his waistband. “Now. Get outta these pants, and get your butt in the tub.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Frank concentrates on undressing as you riffle through the contents under your sink. Leaving his clothes in a pile, he steps into the tub before lowering himself into the steaming water.

A sigh of approval escapes his lips as the heat engulfs him.

Even if he doesn’t admit it. The mixture of the heat and the scents swirling in the air force his muscles to relax.

You concentrate on uncorking the wine as he sinks deeper into the water. He rests against the back of the tub, his arms coming up to rest on the sides.

“Your wine,” you smile as you pause by the tub.

Frank accepts the glass, indulging you with a sip. His brow arches as he lets the flavor sink in. Taking another sip, he gives you a nod of approval before nodding towards the sink.

“Find what you were looking for?” He asks as you fill your own glass.

“I did, actually.” The mischievous grin that spread across your face causes Frank to shake his head with a chuckle.

“At this point, I’m fully trusting the process.”

“Good,” you smile as you retrieve a jar from the sink.

Taking a seat on the edge of the tub, you hold up the jar for Frank to read.

“Wild Berry & Honey Yogurt Recovery Mask.”

“Yeah, well maybe you should stop using your face as a punching bag.”

“Trust me, I try and avoid it,” Frank chuckles as you concentrating on applying the mask to his face.

“I’ll put one on too if it’ll make you feel better,” you tease as your fingers brush along the bridge of his nose.

“You could get in here with me,” he speaks quietly, his eyes remaining closed as you apply the remainder of the face mask. “That’ll make me feel better than any of this stuff.” 

“Not yet,” you smile as he releases a huff. “Give me 10 minutes, and I’ll take this off for you.”

Frank settles in.

You’re pretty sure he nearly nods off with each passing minute. If you’d told earlier, Frank wouldn’t have believed that this would work, but the blue loofah you drag along his chest and shoulders lock him in a bubble of comfort. By the time you've removed the excess mask from his skin, Frank's glass is empty and he has a satisfied smile on his face.

“You gonna join me, sweetheart?”

"Depends...if you remember this is your time to relax."

Frank's brow furrow as you remain seated.

"The second you start trying to feel me up I'm getting out." You warn.

"That's the best way to relax," he chuckles as you begin to undress.

"I'm serious, Frank-"

"Yeah, yeah," Frank mumbles, his teasing coming out muffled as he leans over press a kiss against your thigh. A pout sets in as he watches you climb in the tub before moving to rest against the opposite end. Before you can get settled, the water threateningly sloshes as Frank sits up his hands grabbing yours.

"Come here," he adds a "please" when you resist.

You groan as he tightens his grip around your hands, gently pulling you forward. Giggles mask the sound of the sloshing water as Frank’s grip easily lifts you onto his lap. His hand finds the small of your back, his eyes watching as you take a sip of your wine. He leans forward bringing his mouth to your shoulder.

"There," he sighs as your arm wraps around his shoulders. Burrowing his face against the warmth of your skin, he smiles as your fingers toy with his hair. "Much better."

"Glad I could be of service."

Your giggles fill the air as your weight shifts forward. Frank drags your body with him as he rests back against the tub.

"You know,” he starts. He pauses as you take another sip of wine, your brow arching in anticipation. “This...Lavande de Haute stuff ain’t that bad.”

"I hate to say I told you so," you giggle as you set your glass aside. "But-"

"We both know you're the brains of this operation," he mumbles, placing a kiss against your lips.

You lean forward chasing his lips as he pulls away. Stealing a final kiss you allow your lips to press against the bridge of his nose. His eyes drift shut, his body relaxing beneath yours. Your lips travel along the bridge of his nose, passing beneath his eyes. He hums a groan of approval as your kisses move to his cheeks. You repeat the process before allowing your lips to press against the corner of his mouth.

"See what happens when you trust the process?"

A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest as his hand reaches up to catch the back of your neck. Nodding, he smiles softly as he guides your lips to his.

Your body relaxes against his as you grant him access to the one thing he's been wanting since his arrival. His grip remains firm. One hand pressed against the nape of your neck, his other massaging the curve of your hip. He kisses you softly, his tongue teasing yours until your fingers are knotted in his hair.

"Anything else left in this process?" Frank mumbles against your lips. "Because I'm ready to get you to bed."

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: Eurydice (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- The Voice of Olympius by Apollo

Princess of Arcadia by the citizens of Arcadia

Eury by her family & close friends

Age- 19

Location- Arcadia, Olympius

Personality- Her on-stage persona is eccentric, bold, and visionary. Off the stage, she's the same friendly, bubbly creative young woman with an infectious laugh and thirst for life. She's single- stating that music is "my boyfriend, my lover, my husband, my best friend, and baby daddy!"

Eurydice is a popular musical act, a singer/rapper combo. Her music is a mashup of genres like pop, r&b, hip-hop, and pop rap. There's also hints of soul, synth pop, dancehall, reggae, & disco. She's currently being managed by Midas.

She's a dryad nymph, born and raised in Arcadia (with a middle class upbringing) to her parents Admetos & Desdemona (Mona for short). It's safe to say her love for music began in her mother's womb, who would constantly hum & sing great tales and legends.

As a small child Eurydice hated being in the dark & thunderstorms (and in essence the god & King Zeus). Being woken up by a storm or a strange noise from outside, she would tip toe into her parents' bedroom & climb into their bed. Her mom would stroke her hair- softly singing all the lullabies she knew until they both fell asleep.

To this day, she still has a great relationship with her parents. Her father (Eurydice nicknamed him "The Grillmeister") would throw barbecues every weekend like clockwork. She loves his pasta salad, fried chicken, & gyro hot dogs!

Her first real taste of music happened when she went along with her parents to an outdoor festival where they saw Pan (god of the wild, satyrs, shepherds, & rustic music) perform. Eurydice was 7. She remembers how intently he looked during his pan flute solo, like he was in his own private world. She first sang while hanging out with her parents at home during a lazy summer afternoon. Her father was idly playing his acoustic guitar, singing. She joined in & her father was taken aback by how seemingly perfect her pitch and timing was.

She has three childhood friends- two flower nymphs named Adamantia & Chrysanthi (Chrysa) and a fellow dryad nymph named Kairi. They all went to the same primary school & even took ballet classes together.

As a young girl, Eurydice began to develop her musical identity. First with ballet classes, then with playing the lyre and flute in her school's music class. After homework she would spend the rest of her night before bed writing rhymes & lyrics in her journal. Her musical tastes changed too- now being exposed to music by Apollo, M9, GA-zelle (her favorite rapper that just happens to be a dryad nymph), & Pale Blu (a pop singer who's a cloud nymph). She also traded in ballet for hip hop dance classes.

Her first "unofficial" official rap battle happened when she was 11. It was at a park near her school with the resident bully Alekos (who publicly humiliated her good friend Kairi at lunch). The rest of the kids declared Eurydice the winner with her verse!

When she turned fifteen, Eurydice performed at her school's talent show- a nearly stripped down version of M9's song "Diamond Memories", with just her voice & a lyre. Kairi (in the audience) recorded it on her phone and uploaded it onto PanopTube as well as her Fatestagram account. In just short of two days, it garnered millions of views. It eventually made its way to Apollo and The Muses. When Eurydice got home from dance class, she was nearly knocked unconscious seeing the god of music & the goddesses of the arts and sciences in her living room with her parents. To make a long story short, they offered her a record deal and she happily accepted!

Eurydice first started out as an opener for M9, Apollo, & Eclipse.

Her debut album Cinnamon was released to widespread acclaim. Critics took note of her light lyric soprano voice with a four-octave range.

She even got a five star review from the god Momus in Modern Olympus where he states her as "a skilled technical rapper with a strong melodic sense and a bold visual presence."

The greatest moment Eurydice remembers from her earlier career was when she won the Golden Laurel award for Best New Artist with GA-zelle presented the award to her.

Her other equally successful albums include Out of Space, Out of Mind (which has heavy afrobeat and r&b influences), EURY, Like Honey, and her latest release, kairi (named after her good friend) and heavily inspired by Eurydice's dryad culture!

A lot of Eurydice's stage outfits & costumes for shows and music videos are often designed by The Graces.

Her signature look includes her long painted nails, winged eyeliner, & long blondish-brownish micro braids. She's also a fan of wearing brightly colored wigs in different styles (which are made by Kairi).

Eurydice's personal favorite songs of hers include the ballad "Angel Tears", "Sweetener", "4 Arcadia", "Bee!Buzz!", "In My Feels", "3 AM", "Ultraviolence", and "Get High".

Many themes & sublects explored in her music include feminism, feminity, identity, anxiety, sexuality, troubled romantic relationships, youth, mortality, friendships, body positivity, and womanhood.

She has a huge fear of snakes. There have been times when she has experienced bad dreams of a large snake swallowing an oak tree whole.

She has one tattoo- of a watercolor style oak tree covering her entire back.

Her go-to drinks are the grasshopper & the japanese slipper (alcoholic drinks). She also likes almond amaretto black tea and chocolate banana milkshakes.

Eurydice is good friends with some of the gods & goddesses who are also musical acts as well as others in the music industry. This includes Apollo (god of the sun, music, poetry, healing, medicine, archery, plague, light, & knowledge), M9 (The Muses), The Lucid Petals (Chloris & Antheia), The Gypsy Belles (The Seasonal Goddesses), Aoide (goddess of voice & song), and Dioscuri (Castor & Pollux)- with Eurydice being a featured artist on some of their songs!

She's also good friends with Naeus (god of weddings) and she's still friends with Kairi (hiring her to be her hairstylist), Adamantia, & Chrysanthi (she's the godmother to her newborn daughter).

Eurydice is also cool with one of her background dancers, Nerites. He even choreographed the routine for the music video for her song "Mmmm". She's been around another popular musical artist O,  but they just have a professional relationship.

Even though she states in interviews that she's single & not looking to be in a relationship, that doesn't stop the press from speculating about Eurydice's personal life. Like how the paparazzi photographed her leaving The Melody Lounge with Narcissus or how during the music video for The Lucid Petals' song "Utopia" (where she's a featured artist), there's a kiss shared between her and Antheia.

She never refuses to sign an autograph!

Despite her bold fashionable persona, in her personal life, Eurydice feels just as beautiful & confident wearing leggings, jeans, and oversized shirts.

A thing of hers that she was more than happy to splurge on is her ruby red Porsche sports car. She bought it after the release of her second album.

She credits her body not through traditional exercise (hates the gym), but through her performing & dancing.

Eurydice does eventually want to buy up some private land (about 10 or so acres), build a house & to have a farm with lots of animals- especially horses. Some locations she's been thinking about are Meteora, Agrinio, Samos, & Mykonos. She does eventually want to get married and have children. Eurydice always says she wants 5 kids.

Despite her great success & fame, she still resides in Arcadia (in a modest house), in the same neighborhood she grew up in. Eurydice loves helping out in her community. She hosts charity football (soccer) games every summer.

Some of her favorite foods include sweet & spicy jalapeño chips, her dad's gyro hot dogs, tiropita, and medium pepperoni pizzas (with extra pepperonis).

She has thirteen Golden Laurel awards!

In her free time, Eurydice likes to do things that everyone else likes to do- go out, shop, dine out, spend time with her family & friends, play video games. She once went bungee jumping with Kairi, Adamantia, & Chrysanthi as a dare!

"Most of us don't last forever, but music will continue to live on."