#but anyway have them they make heart cry in such bittersweet way

[hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend]

My love, do you know that your eyes are like stars brightly beaming? I bring you and sing you a moonlight serenade Let us stray till break of day In love's valley of dreams [....] A love song, my darling, a Moonlight Serenade

-"Moonlight Serenade" comp. by Glenn Miller, lyrics by Mitchell Parish

[itsfairly]

cw: drabble, sfw, pregnant!reader, established relationship fluff, fluff, fluff. not proofread

a/n: you can thank hospital playlist for this. i saw that scene in season 2 and just knew that would be what nanami would do. so yeah, papamin has been in my mind for a long time.

When you first told Nanami you were pregnant, he wanted to show you how much of a good dad he would be. Yes, he would pamper you like never before and stay by your side so that you wouldn't have to lift a finger, letting you and the baby take it easy until the birth. But as the date of delivery came closer and closer, he asked you if he could record the birth.

It wasn't a weird request by any means, many parents wanted that memory when their little ones left the womb and came into the world to officially become a human. While many may think of birth as disgusting or traumatizing to the point where the mere mention of the process sent shivers down their spine, it made Nanami feel butterflies in his stomach. This was his child we're talking about, his child with you. Of course he wanted to capture their first cries, to remember whatever feelings and thoughts you two—three—had at the moment. It was a huge thing he wanted to keep somewhere other than your memories.

Besides, all good dads record their kid's birth, right? It was something Nanami believed. It was one thing to pamper your child from the womb and another one to have them right in front of you. You couldn't capture the moment he found out you were pregnant, but he could record when they came to the world as a little welcome. It was more than keeping a memory, it was showing how dedicated he was to being a good father.

His excitement made it hard to say no, not that you would anyway. It was a simple request. Even if you knew you wouldn't be in your finest appearance when delivering the baby, you couldn't deny it was a moment you wanted to look back fondly. You could see how much recording it meant to him and you couldn't say anything but yes.

As your belly grew bigger and bigger, doctor's appointment after doctor's appointment, it was time to get the camera ready.

It was nerve-wracking, to say the least. You looked so nervous and your screams didn't ease his nerves. It was a weird feeling if he was honest. Here you were, screaming and crying at nothing and everything on your way to the hospital that made his heart clench from his own hopelessness in trying to ease the pain. But on the other side, it was your little one causing you all this because they were ready to greet their parents after months of hearing your voices, kicking their way out of you. Bittersweet didn't cut it for Nanami, worried for you but excited for the baby.

His nerves finally eased when you arrived at the hospital and the two—almost three—were rushed to the delivery room. His hand was tight around yours, but not as tight as yours once he told you to take all your pain out on him, holding onto him for dear life with a white-knuckle grip. He tried to calm you down in any way he could as you headed to the room, anything that would make the pain more bearable, anything that would remind you it would be worth it in the end for the two of you.

It wasn't until you were settled in the room and the doctor and nurses were now in their positions to assist you in the birth that Nanami was told he could start recording now. Kissing your hand before letting it go, Nanami takes out the camera and stands far away to let the medics do their job in keeping you and the baby safe, pressing record once he found a good enough angle to capture the arrival of your little one.

Screaming and crying became louder and more desperate, making him grip the camera tighter. But with each push, Nanami realized something through the camera screen. As the doctors were telling you to push and you groaned and yelled each time, he realized how strong you were. The scene before him would be one others would think of as stressful, but he thought it was beautiful. That you were beautiful. All this strength and determination you had through the pain to get your baby out safely sent an arrow through his heart like all those years ago he met you. Sweat and tears may be covering your face, your hair falling and sticking to it strand by strand, and your expression wasn't what you called picture perfect, but you were beautiful.

He may have done everything while you were pregnant—provided for you, cleaned the house, built the nursery room, soothed your craving at 2am despite everything being closed, comforted you through your mood swings, showered you with love and adoration...and it still didn't feel enough to what you were doing right this second. You were giving him a child. You, you wonderful you.

When his own tears roll down his cheeks, he doesn't wipe them away, accepting them as part of this joyful experience you were giving him. He just felt blessed to have you so willing and determined and strong to be doing something as demanding as giving birth, he doesn't think he can emphasize how amazing you were to him right now. You were his adoration, now and forever.

With a final push, you lay back down on the hospital bed and a new high-pitched set of cries join the world. Your baby was here with you, all safe and sound thanks to you.

Nanami doesn't think twice as his feet guide him to you, placing his free hand on your head and caressing it gently. His tears continue to fall down his face, smiling at you so widely you were sure it was the anesthetic acting up. It is when his lips kiss all over your face, soft and wet from the tears, that you realize that this moment is real. As Nanami continued to caress you and pepper every area of your face with kisses, your baby making his presence known with his cries, the camera continued to record the moment. The only difference is that the focus wasn't on the baby, but rather on the husband and wife moment between you two.

I love you, honey. I love you so much, my love.

You did amazing. Thank you for bringing our child to us.

You're so strong, you did it.

All that praise and affection made it easy to see how much of a tender moment this was for the two of you. A moment that was now shared on your baby's birth video. The only difference is that now, instead of showing how your little one came into the world, it is showing how you brought your baby to the world. Nanami loves that idea far more.

That day, Nanami showed that he would be a good father. But he also showed that he would be an even better husband than he has ever been before. Both for you and your little baby girl. That video is enough of a proof.

[wikiangela]

I always had you

buck & maddie rating: G words: 1k summary: Buck always tried to show his mother love on Mother's Day - however, it was rarely appreciated.

[also on Ao3]

___

The first Mother’s Day Buck remembers, however vaguely, was when he was in first grade. Their teacher had them make cards for their moms, and little Evan was so excited to have something to give his mom. He doesn’t remember what his card looked like, but he remembers feeling so proud and excited about it, and showing it to Maddie when she picked him up from school, so they could take the bus together. He remembers Maddie smiling and complimenting him, and he was so excited. And he remembers giving the card to his mother… he remembers the haunted look in her eyes, tears welling up, the forced smile – he thinks she thanked him, but the memory is blurry. He tried to hug her, but she just got up and walked away. Evan was disappointed, maybe even sad, seeing his mom be sad, wondering what he did that was so upsetting. He always seemed to upset his parents. 

He remembers going to Maddie’s room, crying in her arms as she tried to comfort him – he doesn’t know what she said, it was so long ago, but he does remember the comfort she’s always brought him. 

Now, years later, he’s pretty sure his mom must’ve thrown the card away, knowing that his parents didn’t bother to keep anything from his childhood anyway. He’s just a reminder of a failure and loss.

If there’s one thing to be said about Evan Buckley is that he does not give up. So, even as a kid, he tried so hard to earn his parents’ love, to get their attention – usually by being reckless and hurting himself, he learned pretty early on that it was a foolproof way to get any sort of reaction. That’s why his mom’s reaction, or lack thereof, to that first card didn’t deter him. He was just a kid, he didn’t really get it then – now, reflecting back on it, he sees everything he didn’t then, or maybe tried not to.

So every year for Mother’s Day he brought a card from school. Then, when they stopped making them at school, he kept making them at home. When he was old enough and had some of his own money, he’d buy gifts. Something small, a chocolate, a flower, sometimes he’d get Maddie to pitch in so they could get something together. She always seemed apprehensive but indulged Buck anyway. Now Buck knows she was just trying to protect him, spare him the hurt – because each time their mom barely reacted to a gift, Buck’s heart was breaking a little. And the older he got, the less she tried to pretend to like it, and she never tried very hard in the first place. 

He never got any sort of appreciation or warmth, or… or love. It’s all he ever wanted from his mother, from both his parents, but they were too consumed by grief, as he knows now, too cold, haunted, not even willing to try for their remaining children, for years and years. 

Buck remembers the last time he got his mom a gift and decided he’s never doing that again. It was right before Maddie moved to Boston, he could’ve been around twelve. He made another card, just because he liked doing it, liked putting in the effort – and was met with his mother asking if he’s not too old for doodling. That’s what she called it. He was twelve. He was a twelve year old boy who only wanted love from his mom, some form of affection, a reassurance that he wasn’t a nuisance they just tolerated, like he felt so often. He never got it.

So, with angry tears in his eyes, he stormed out and went to Maddie. He gave her the card, just a simple, childish drawing of flowers and a ‘Happy Mother’s Day’, and she hugged him tight and said she loved it. He learned years later that she still has it now, kept with all the postcards he sent her. Maddie’s always been more of a parent to him anyway – and it’s such a bittersweet thought, because while he appreciates her so much, she shouldn’t’ve had to be. They both needed their parents, and instead were basically left alone. At least they had each other. He always had Maddie.

He didn’t wish Margaret a happy Mother’s Day again for years after that, and no one seemed to care, no one ever mentioned it. Sometimes it felt like she just didn’t want a reminder that she was his mother. It hurt, of course it did, and that, among many other things, left a permanent scar on Evan. He’s been healing, getting better, trying to fix whatever relationship with his parents he might still have, but that is always there, in the back of his mind, in his heart.

When Maddie became a mother – and after she came back, having gotten the help she needed – Buck got her a gift again, just a mug that says ‘best mom in the world’ (a reminder, that despite her struggling and doubting herself, she already raised one kid, and will do an even better job with her own) and a handmade card. He felt silly handing it to her, like a little kid again, but he had been doing arts and crafts with Christopher anyway so he decided to make something for his sister’s first Mother’s Day as a mom. So maybe it was silly and weird, and why would a grown man draw a card for his sister? But Maddie smiled widely and hugged him, and chuckled fondly when he promised he’ll teach his niece to make those, too. He can’t wait to watch her grow up, and to watch his sister be the best mom ever. And on every Mother’s Day from now on, he’ll make sure to celebrate her, the person who actually raised him, and helped mold him into who he is today with her endless kindness and patience and love. 

His mother gets a text now, since they’re trying to fix things, and Buck never quits. But Maddie gets taken out to lunch, and gets gifts, and is celebrated by all the people she loves. Because she deserves it, and so much more.

___

[also on Ao3]

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

A Dream From Another Universe

Pairing: Itachi x f!Reader

Summary: Itachi from the canon universe has a dream, about how things could've been if other things were different.

W/c: 1.9k

Warnings: Swearing? Lil touch of angst? Nm.

A/n: given kakashi and itachi tied and won that lil vote i did, here's this! anyway, lmk how y'all feel, it's supposed to be bittersweet.

Masterlist💿

And, suddenly, it was the early evening.

Dark oak furniture was scattered around the living room, accompanied by a mix-matched variety of sitting pieces. A purple, crushed velvet arm chair sat on one side, while a pink-green-and-white recliner resided on the other. They framed a plaid couch that faced a roaring fire. From somewhere in the room, probably from one of the overflowing bookshelves, a sickly soft piano melody drifted through the air; such a vivid sound, Itachi could nearly see the soundwaves as they came.

He didn't question the homely scene; simply, he enjoyed the warmth, and thanked every star he knew the name of.

Nightmares tortured Itachi, too horrifying and heart-wrenching for the true level of the feelings to ever be conveyed by any verbiage. They carried on to his waking hours - though his world had become a blur, the memories came back clear as day. Itachi deserved it, every terrible feeling, and he knew it well.

But, this was not a nightmare.

And Itachi hoped to imprint this scene into his mind - even if it was only a hazy dream, and he had never seen that furniture nor heard that music before in his life.

However, he wasn't entirely sure he deserved... this.

Especially when your fuzzy figure materialized in the middle of the plaid couch, your head tucked down. Glistening in the firelight's reflection, your hair curtained your face, a little longer than Itachi remembered it to have been.

His heart stuttered within his chest, clenching with the force of a thousand lonely nights.

Just as he began to begrudge you for hiding your face from him, your head turned so casually, but with such a remarkable grace that this was surely you.

"Come 'ere, Itachi," you purred, your voice just as melodic as he remembered.

Hearing his name from your lips brought him to life within the dream.

Without speaking, he swept over to you, making long strides across the foreign living room. As he moved, he drank in every feature of yours, the features that made his heart pound, those that he hadn't seen in years, but could never, ever, forget.

Stars above, you were beautiful.

So, very beautiful.

He sat on the couch, taking the cushion to your right, still silent, while a deep frown carved onto his face. You let Itachi stare at you, doing so with such a gentle smile.

As he looked into your eyes, he noticed every star he had longed to see, within them, twinkling with adoration.

Itachi's heart ached within it's prison. How badly he missed making you smile, how awfully he yearned to watch the glimmer in your eye. The slopes of your cheeks were so perfectly defined by the firelight, while it also smoothed your skin to a marble texture. You resembled a statue, a carving; something that an artist poured hundreds of hours into to render entirely perfect.

"What's the matter, sweet boy?" You chuckled after an unknown amount of time had passed.

That... cripes, Itachi felt like he could cry. He would do anything just to hear that little pet name on his conscious ear.

What a fool, Itachi was. He claimed to hate that name, way back when; but, now, he was dreaming about those words. A strange brand of self-hatred came over him, tinged with guilt. Why could he not have made more time for you? Why-

"I-ta-chi," you enunciated in a sing-song voice, bringing Itachi's eyes to your lips. "Talk to me - you seem totally spaced."

"I'm okay," he whispered. "Don't worry about me."

You shook your head and reached over your lap, grabbing the bookmark that rested on the coffee table. As you slotted it between your pages, you chuckled, "I always worry about you, my sweet, sweet boy."

Were you dreaming about him? Was that why he was having this dream?

No, Itachi thought. That sounded too hopeful. 

Besides, this could still turn into a nightmare, the other shoe could still drop.

"Are you... is it happening again?" You asked with a certain compassion in your cadence that made Itachi's shoulders relax.

He shook his head, "Is what happening again?"

With a slight huff, you heaved the book onto the coffee table, then turned yourself to face Itachi fully, crossing your legs on the couch.

"Which nocturne is playing, right now?"

The question caught him off guard.

Hesitantly, he shrugged, "The... third... nocturne?"

You sighed, and he knew he answered wrong, "What about yesterday? Do you remember what we did?"

"No," he answered honestly, but so very intrigued. "What did we do yesterday?"

"Well," you started with a smile. "You won three tickets for a baseball game, so you, Shisui, and Sasuke went to the ballpark, yesterday." As you drew breath, Itachi's lips quirked. "You hell-raisers came back here, post-game, and I made dinner. A nice okonomiyaki for everyone."

"Oh, yeah?" Itachi murmured, no edge in his voice at all, just sheer tantalization.

You grinned, capturing his eyes with yours, full of stars, "Yeah."

"Then, what happened?" Itachi asked, though he didn't even recognize the gentleness in his tone.

"Then, we played a few rounds of dice," you laughed lightly, shaking your head as if you couldn't believe Itachi was having you revise the night. "I stole the pot twice, and Shisui declared that I was cheating. I wasn't, of course, but I dropped out and came over here, anyway, until the boys left. After that-" You shrugged, "-we shared a nightcap, before we got nice and cuddled-up for the night."

Fuck, this really was a dream.

Itachi was left to merely wonder how his mind could possibly conjure up something so...

"That sounds..." He searched for the word, but the one he wished for didn't exist. Shaking his head with a small smile, Itachi sighed, "Perfect."

"I bet," you mumbled, looking over his face carefully, your gaze as light as a feather. "I think my Itachi and I have the best lives of any of us, and that's why this always happens to him. Do you speak to your me?"

What?

"I beg your pardon?" Itachi said, voice confused and almost child-like as his brain fizzed.

You just smiled, and simply told him, "It's like a gift, to you, I suppose... Sometimes, when my Itachi gets too tired, too stressed, too whatever, one of you comes to me. You, like, switch places."

Okay, now his brain was really starting to lose the plot of the dream. It was going so well-

"I'll have you, for a little while," you went on. "And you'll have me, for a little while. It's like the stars are giving you a taste of the good life - one of you called it a reprieve, I think."

"I'm sorry," Itachi huffed, a short laugh in his breath. He shook his head, "I really don't understand."

"That's quite alright, sweetheart, you don't need to. All you need to know is that I love you, and your me loves you - and an infinite number of other versions of us love each other, too."

Perhaps untrue, hopefully not - Itachi was just happy to hear you speak, and to hear such foreign words of adoration.

You grinned peacefully, "So, what do you think?"

"Think about what?" He asked.

Motioning around the living room, you laughed, "What do you think of our place? What do you think of me? How does all of this compare to you and your Y/n?"

"I think you have a lovely home," Itachi started slowly, looking around the room. "And I think... you are lovely." His eyes returned to yours and Itachi couldn't help but smile as he said, "But I can't bring myself to compare our situations."

"Probably for the best," you sighed contentedly. Then, looking at Itachi with a cocked brow, you asked, "What do you want to do, Itachi?"

A hundred- no, a thousand things flitted through his mind.

What did he want to do? With you, anything.

"I- I don't..." Fool, this is a golden opportunity. "I just... I want to hear you speak, that's all."

"What do you want me to speak about?"

"Tell me about us, about our lives, together."

"Well, tomorrow, we're..."

It was spectacular.

Itachi was amazed.

He doubted the overall verity of the situation, as one should - but, there was no doubt in his mind that this was the most splendid gift he had ever received. If there were other universes, with other Itachi's and other Y/n's, he was glad that at least some of them seemed to be living the way he wished. Not everything in every universe could be a bowl of peaches and cream, but it was a real motherfucker that this Itachi had to go through the muck and back, and to still be one of the ones who lost you along the way.

For what felt like both six hours, and six minutes, you verbally illustrated the grand adventures the two of you had gone on, and about the adventures you had planned.

It truly was everything he had dreamed about, and a strange jealousy had crept it's way up Itachi's neck.

"And, guess what," you prompted, legs stretched out over Itachi's lap as you spoke on and on.

"What?" He acquiesced, his fingers lightly drawing obscure shapes on the thin skin of your shin, letting his eyes trace every line in your smile.

With an extension of your left hand, Itachi ripped his eyes away from your face to see a rather large, diamond ring on your fourth finger. It glimmered and shone, seemingly polished to the exact standard of blinding reflection. Upon your hand, the ring almost seemed heavy, and numbers started flying through Itachi's mind as he assessed the piece of jewelry, pondering the monetary and karat worth of the rock alone.

"We're getting married in the Autumn," you told him as he gently took your hand in his to get an even closer look at the ring. "You proposed here, at home - then, we went on a proposal tour."

Allowing himself to laugh lightly, Itachi repeated, "Proposal tour?"

"Yeah," you beamed. "We went around to our favourite places and you proposed to me again and again. We got a bunch of free desserts out of it, and a lots of our favourite shopkeepers are regularly giving us discounts, now."

"Who thought that up?" He asked, letting the lopsided smile rest on his face.

Taking your hand back, you motioned to yourself from head to toe and claimed, "Yours truly."

Itachi laughed again, though the vibrations almost felt as foreign as this living room. You smiled, eyes dancing around his face like he was the one who possessed a priceless beauty. The two of you stayed like that for a little while, yet - merely staring at each other, with gentle grins plastered on both of your faces.

Until...

"You have to wake up, now, Itachi," you hummed, sitting up properly as you looked at him with such a gorgeous, bittersweet smile. He never wanted to forget your smile, nor the way your lips wrapped around his name so softly, again, "Itachi."

"Why?" He asked, forlorn.

Meekly, you giggled and told him, "I miss my Itachi."

"I don't want to leave you," he said, almost petulant, but with a candied voice, thick with a heavy array of emotion. "I don't... I don't even see my Y/n, I just... I miss her."

You chuckled warmly, "I wish you had more time with her, sweet boy."

"Me too," he murmured in defeat. "I love you."

"I'm sure I love you, too."

Before he could offer any further farewell, his vision went white, then suddenly black.

He could smell a wet metallic tinge in the air, and he sighed quietly as he laid in the cave, not wanting to open his eyes, for fear of losing the image of you that was seared into the insides of his eyelids.

Itachi missed you terribly.

[itsphoenix0724]

A Shadowed Throne (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: The warmer seasons have been particularly hard this year as Azriel awaits his Queen's return. When winter finally dawns he finds Death will only kneel to life in one circumstance.

Warnings: SMUT, throne-sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Hello everyone! This was heavily inspired by the myth of Hades and Persephone if that wasn't obvious. Also incredibly inspired by @azsazz's beautiful work called "Between the Shadow and the Soul" so please give that a read. I asked on anon if I could write something similar and I am thrilled they agreed. I hope everyone enjoys it, and as always constructive criticism is welcome!

The halls in the Obsidian Castle are always eerily quiet. You can only hear the whispers of the souls that bustle around the castle. The God of Death finds that he enjoys quiet peace. The cold marble of his throne presses against his back and calms his racing pulse. He feels your presence enter his realm. Shadows bring him a rush of warmth and the smell of sweet spring flowers. 

The feeling awakens something in his blood he thought was long dead. This spring's goodbye was awful, the summer bittersweet, and the fall melancholy.

Winter was always his favorite season.

Selfishly he loved the quiet bliss of snowfall and the influx of souls that enter his realm. Most of your smaller creations don’t survive the harshness the winter brings, but he wipes your tears and consoles you that all of your creations will be safe with him. He cherishes each one, kindly guiding them back when they’re ready to move on. 

Two souls open the large doors to the throne room. When he sees you the cold heart in his chest starts to beat again. He surveys you from where you stand at the door. 

You had chosen a dress in a deep purple for your return home. Two thigh-high slits let him see the vines that wrap all the way down to your bare feet. Your usual flowers had been swapped out for an homage to the underworld. A crown of lilies, nightshade, and oleander were woven through your hair. Two sets of foxglove dangled from your ears and purple emperor butterflies fluttered around your neckline. 

You were a vision, a true queen of his realm. 

Your eyes locked for one tortuous moment. Neither of you moved, exhaling a small breath before you take off to him in a run. With a wave of his hand, the souls cleared out of the throne room. They would celebrate the return of their queen later with a week-long festival in your honor. 

He fully intended to celebrate the return of his queen right fucking now. 

He pulled you onto his lap as soon as you reached the throne, the butterflies scattering into the air and landing around the both of you. One brave butterfly rests on his hair before your fingers chase it away.

He wraps one strong hand through your hair before finally drawing his mouth to yours. After months and months of cold, he finally feels warm again. He draws his tongue along the seam of your lips, and they open for him as he greedily slides his tongue into your mouth.  He moans as the taste of honey and pomegranates flood his senses and you dig your hands into his hair and pull so harshly he fears you may have drawn blood. 

“Azriel,” you whine his name into his mouth and he wants to inject the sound into his veins. Mortals fear his name, only referring to him as Death or King, and he finds he doesn’t mind their fear. 

He only wants his name to fall out of your lips anyway. 

He moves his lips to mark the soft skin of your neck. He wants to leave his mark everywhere on your body. He wants to remind you of why he deserves your return to him every winter. Azriel’s instincts are kicking into high gear. He wants to claim you and make you beg and cry underneath him and never let you go again. However, he puts that on pause. 

For now. 

He stands up, hauling your whole body against him before pinning you to the back of the throne and falling to his knees. 

All life has to yield to Death eventually, it’s the way of the world, but Death kneels for Life in some instances. He parts your dress, fingers toying with the vines that wrap up and down your legs before diving in. His eyes almost glaze over as he licks one strong stripe through your center, tongue gently flicking over the apex of your thighs in a way that makes you convulse and squirm beneath his tongue. There will be time for teasing later.

Azriel intends to fully make you beg for him when he can properly take you apart in the bed that has been dreadfully cold in your absence. He eats you like he was starving for it, in a way he was, as he laps at the juices running down your thighs and looks up at you through half-lidded lashes. Your cheeks are flushed, your chest heaving up and down as your fingers wind through his inky black hair. You urge him back down and he lets out a dark chuckle that wraps your bones in dark silks.

Azriel laps his tongue at your center before thrusting inside and you let out a moan of approval. His tongue fucks you in and out as one hand comes up to rub tight circles against your clit. You shatter against him with another scream of his name. Azriel’s eyes find yours again and he takes a moment to admire his queen. Your skin is flushed with a thin layer of sweat, even in the cool throne room, and you're lounging on the throne like a true ruler of the underworld. The sight makes his painfully hard cock twitch in his pants. He shucks your legs off of his shoulder before rising to his full height before you. You stare up at him through your eyelashes, playing innocent, even as you undo the laces that hold his pants shut. Your hand runs over him and his head falls back with a groan. 

He needs to get inside you now or this is going to be over far before it begins. 

He takes your hands away and pins them above your head as he slowly sinks in inch by tortuous inch. He tries to patiently wait for you to adjust but you dig your nails into his wrists and growl in his ear for him to “move already,” he begins to fuck you at a relentless pace. His hands drag down the top of your dress and he takes the weight of both breasts in his palms. He runs a thumb over your nipples before pinching and pulling in time to his thrusts.

“You’re such a good fucking girl,” He growls into your ear and he feels your run a hand up the back edge of his wing. He lets out a long moan, hips stuttering for a second, and he bites your neck in warning before pounding into you at a relentless pace.

You’re trying to arch your hips to meet his thrusts but you’re too fucking cock drunk to keep up. 

He reaches one hand down to play with your clit again and he brings you to another mind-numbing orgasm that makes your walls convulse around his cock. That and the way your nails are digging into his back sends him growling through his release. He pulls out slowly before tucking himself back in his pants and rearranging you so that you’re sat on his lap. Az rubs small circles on your lower back and you play with the ends of his hair.

“Sweetheart,” you mutter and he looks down at you, a small smile playing on your lips. “Where’s my throne?” He tries to smother the guilty look before feigning his innocence. With a wave of his hand your throne appears. A rose quartz twin to his obsidian one. 

“It depresses the souls when you’re not here Flower. I had to hide it.” It’s not a complete lie. He notices the sad glances the souls steal at your throne when you’re not here, it saddens him a bit as well, like half of his heart is missing. An incomplete set. 

“Uh-huh. Sure.” He sends another guilty smile your way. The whole truth is that he hid it so he could enjoy you on his throne, and you’ve always been able to clock his bullshit from a mile away. 

“Anyway,” He continues, hopeful to change the subject as he rises to his feet with you in his arms. You let out a small squeal and grip him tighter. “You have a party to prepare for my love. We’re thrilled to have you back.” He’s marching you to your bedroom and he kicks the throne room door closed behind him. 

“Azriel if you drop me I swear I will make flowers grow out of your ears.” It’s an empty threat. He can feel your body shake with unreleased laughter and hear the smile in your voice. Az leans down to playfully nip at your ear before he jostles you in his arms just to make the laugh you were holding bubble up in your chest. 

“I would never drop you Flower.” 

And for the first time in months, on the evening of the first day of winter, the halls of the Obsidian Castle are filled with the sounds of laughter.

[lurkingshan]

The Ride or Die Drama Couples List

So the other night I got a little sassy on main because some of the girlies were complaining that King the Land is focusing more on the couple moments (aka relationship development) between Gu Won and Sa Rang and doesn’t have enough plot. Which is a very typical fandom complaint about romcoms that I absolutely hate, because in a good romance the relationship is the plot, people! It’s bizarre attitudes like this that get us random murder plots spliced into every other romcom for the ratings, and I am begging y’all to stop the madness. 

Ahem. Anyway, that post seemed to resonate with some folks and get them discussing other dramas, and so inevitably @troubled-mind wandered into my notes and said gee Shan, it seems like maybe you should make a list of dramas that show us couples in a relationship and explore how they make it work and ultimately stay together. And I’ve warned y’all before, if you make a stray comment in my direction there will be a list coming your way. So here I am again, doing the absolute most.

Today I present to you a list of my favorite dramas that show you not only how the couple gets together, but also how they stay together. Criteria:

The couple doesn’t have to be together when the drama starts, but they do have to actually begin their romantic relationship no later than halfway through the drama’s run so that we have substantial time with them as a couple

The relationship development between the couple is a primary plot driver (so no dramas where there’s a great long term couple just hanging out in the background)

The relationship story may include some physical separation or even a temporary breakup, but not the betrayal kind–these are the sort that actually force an unaddressed issue to the surface and ultimately bring the couple even closer 

Happy endings only, these pairs are sticking together 

Ride or Die Drama Couples

Bad Buddy - Pat and Pran

(Thailand, YouTube)

This is tumblr so do I really need to tell y’all about Pat and Pran? There is a reason we all lost our minds over this show and it’s because we got to be in this relationship with them so intensely and see them fight to stay together despite it all. Their ending is bittersweet because of their families, but the show leaves us no doubt that they both think the other is worth it and they will always stick it out together. 

Dark Blue Kiss - Pete and Kao

(Thailand, YouTube)

Shout out to the OGs! Pete and Kao originally got together in the Kiss series (you can watch it, but you really don’t have to, fam) and Dark Blue Kiss brings them back three years into their long-term relationship to give us a peek into their struggles with the closet and the toll it takes on both of them individually as well as the strain it puts on their relationship. 

Flower of Evil - Hee Sung and Ji Won

(S Korea, Netflix or Viki)

Hee Sung and Ji Won are already married (with an adorable daughter) when this drama begins, and the backstory of their relationship is unspooled alongside the larger mystery at the heart of the show. One of the most fascinating and heart wrenching love stories I have ever seen, centered on a character who is so emotionally damaged that he genuinely believes he is incapable of love even as love pours out of him. Damn, I’m gonna make myself cry into my oatmeal.

It’s Okay, That’s Love - Jae Yeol and Hae Soo

(S Korea, Viki)

Speaking of crying, lord. Ahhhhhhh. Let me pull myself together. It’s Okay, That’s Love is a healing drama about two people who fall in love and support each other through serious mental health challenges. I don’t really want to say much more than that. Bring tissues, besties!

La Pluie - Patts and Saengtai

(Thailand, iQIYI)

My beloved! This Thai drama is about a pair of soulmates–or are they–who find each other and try to make their relationship work. That’s it, that’s the show. In this drama, the relationship truly is the plot, despite some of the fantasy elements being used to highlight its themes. La Pluie is about the importance of choice and a rebuke of romantic fantasies that fate and destiny will handle your love life for you. I and many others have written about it extensively, so if you decide to watch, you can go nuts on meta. 

Lighter & Princess - Li Xun and Zhu Yun

(China, Viki)

I really love this show. This is a long format drama so there will be longer stretches where the couple still has not officially gotten together, but the relationship between them is the heart of the entire show, and we get the distinct pleasure of watching them fall in love twice, and the second time figure out how to make it stick. Such a treat.

One Spring Night - Ji Ho and Jung In

(S Korea, Netflix)

Oh how I love this quiet little drama about two people who fall for each other while one is still in a relationship with someone else, and figure out how to untangle the mess they’re in. We get to see them not only fall in love, but figure out how to become a unit who can withstand the harsh judgment coming their way and become a family on their own terms. Bonus adorable child alert!

Tomorrow With You - So Joon and Ma Rin

(S Korea, Viki)

This time travel melodrama is one of those that I started with no expectations and then sat up part way through and said what gave you the right to be this good! This is another one where the relationship begins for dubious reasons, but the suspect motives are quickly taken over by genuine feeling. We really get to live with the relationship in this one and the message is all about treasuring the life and time we have together. 

The Rebel Princess - Awu (Wang Xuan) and Xiao Qi

(China, Viki)

I think the phrase Ride or Die was actually invented for them. Talk about a power couple. Once these two get to know each other (this is a historical so as per usual, their marriage wasn’t actually their choice but rather the result of some asshole’s machinations in a quest for power, joke’s on them though) they are in, baby, and their devotion and loyalty never wavers. This is a historical epic in war time, so the couple will be physically separated multiple times, but it only makes them stronger and each of their reunions sweeter. Their relationship is the heart of the show and the throughline in their chaotic lives.

What Did You Eat Yesterday? - Shiro and Kenji

(Japan, the ether)

Saving the best for last because this right here is the GOAT in this category. It sits at the top of my all-time favorite dramas list and I love it passionately. Because y’all? This drama is explicitly about a middle-aged couple learning how to be together in a long-term relationship. That is the entire plot. And it’s fantastic. Stop reading this and go watch it!

Honorable Mentions

Yumi’s Cells - Yu Mi and Goo Wong 

(S Korea, Viki)

This one is not on the list proper because (gasp) the couple doesn’t end up together. I know, I’m still sad about it, too, even though I went into this drama fully aware of the concept (a season about each of Yu Mi’s major relationships). But man. Yu Mi and Goo Wong just have that something, you know? Even knowing they don’t stick it out, it’s a delight to watch them fall in love and settle into a relationship together. Technically there is a second season featuring Yu Mi’s next relationship (Babi? I don’t know her), but I don’t want to recommend it and you can’t make me.

I must also give a shout out to the bl season 2s that exist expressly for the purpose of showing how the characters settle into a relationship after the first season get together:

Gameboys 2 (Philippines, Gaga) - Cairo and Gavreel

Minato’s Laundromat 2 (Japan, Gaga)- Shin and Minato 

SOTUS S and Our Skyy (Thailand, YouTube) - Kongpob and Arthit

Still 2gether (Thailand, YouTube) - Tine and Sarawat

Utsukushii Kare 2 (Japan, Gaga) - Hira and Kiyoi

And because this is my post and I make the rules, I am also doing some honorable mentions of the friends to lovers slow burns where technically they are not together until the final arc of the story but let’s be serious they are together the whole time and just don’t realize it yet so you know exactly what their relationship is going to look like:

Fight for My Way (S Korea, Viki) - Dong Man and Ae Ra

Happiness (S Korea, Viki) - Sae Bom and Yi Hyun

Hospital Playlist 1 and 2 (S Korea, Viki) - Song Hwa and Ik Jun

My Only 12% (Thailand, iQIYI) - Seeiw and Cake

My Ride (Thailand, Gaga or YouTube) - Mork and Tawan 

Romance is a Bonus Book (S Korea, Netflix) - Dan Yi and Eun Ho

Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo (S Korea, Viki) - Joon Hyeong and Bok Joo

Whoops you woke the beast @troubled-mind. @rocketturtle4 @neuroticbookworm @chickenstrangers here are more for your mile long rec lists. :)))

[liminalpebble]

Stray: Part 8

Masterlist Link

Part 8

Loki's heart felt lead-heavy as he finally forced himself to release you from his embrace. Finally, he sadly accepted that he'd missed his opportunity to kiss you. In return, you gave him a bittersweet smile, baffled that he didn't make his move when it seemed inevitable that he would.

Maybe he intends to just abandon me at some point, like everyone else does. Eventually, I'm always going to be alone. But, for now, there's something beautiful to experience, so I won't take it for granted. I'll hold onto the good parts when the worst happens, I'll treasure them. That's all I can do.

You felt like crying as the two of you continued strolling down the main promenade of the carnival; two heads bowed, two sets of hands buried in pockets, two sets of eyes glittering faintly with unshed tears and unspoken words in the carnival lights. The sun had set in a beautiful amber and rose vista while you had rested against his chest. You watched, considering the poignant fleeting nature of all beautiful things as the sun sank below the hills. A velvety indigo night had descended by the time he finally unraveled from the hug. You had never felt colder than you did in that blanket of darkness and the absence of his touch.

After a few steps, you took a chance that you knew might result in a broken heart and a shattering rejection from this man. You decided to be brave anyway. Reaching, you touched his arm lightly, hesitantly. Henry's bright irises met yours, understanding what you sought. He smiled a tight-lipped affectionate smile that creased the corners of his eyes, and you could swear his face shone brighter than every bulb around you. Loki's heart leaped back up from where it had tumbled to the floor as he rushed to entwine his fingers with yours while strolling; quietly, pensively, each of you floundering in your own ruminations until finally, you asked, “Henry?”

“Yes, darling?” he rushed out, anxious to finally exchange words again.

You faced him, and placed a hand on his sharp cheek, “Would...would you like to come over? We could talk a little while.”

“Yes! Yes, of course. I'd love to. If you don't mind....yes,” he blabbered, and you couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm.

Loki fizzled with joy because you wanted more time with him, because perhaps he hadn't ruined things, because perhaps he would have a chance to be closer still, because...

Damn. Loki suddenly thought, realizing that if he was there, her beloved little black cat wouldn't be, and he would have to find some way around that. What were you thinking?, he scolded himself. He knew the answer was that, of course, for once, he wasn't thinking. He wasn't scheming. He wasn't anticipating his next lie or ploy. He was in love and it was making him reckless. Loki was desperate to be near you in this form just a little longer. He would wring every minute, steal every second, if he could just have more of his borrowed time with you.

-----

As you unlocked the door and ushered him inside, you said, “Welcome to my palace. I'm sorry it's not much. I know it's probably not the kind of thing your used to.”

“Hmm. You'd be surprised,” he said, cryptically, then added under his breath, “I like the new curtains.”

You gave him a puzzled look. You'd just changed those curtains yesterday. He continued, realizing his mistake and rushing to deflect, “Well, I've been all over the world...lots of places. And I think it's very sweet and cozy here. I love it.”

You smiled, thawing under his glow. “Oh! I forgot to ask. Are you alright with cats? I hope you're not allergic.”

“Oh...no, no problem at all. Not at all...but just...” he began to mutter in a panic.

“I just have to feed him and then we can have some coffee, yeah? Loki!” you called as you hung up your coat. “Loki?” you repeated with a bit more worry in your voice. He had always greeted you immediately before. You considered that maybe he had just scurried away into hiding because of the presence of an unfamiliar person.

“Sorry, Henry. Just a moment. Please, make yourself at home,” you said as you continued your search around the tiny apartment.

Henry called after you a moment too late as you were already peeking behind every piece of furniture in the tiny flat. He sighed, exasperated and afraid. It would only take you a few moments to look everywhere and realize inevitably that...

“He's not here,” you said quietly, eyebrows peaked in confusion and concern as you returned to Henry.

Loki tried to think quickly. “Hey...hey! Darling. Look at me. It's alright. I'll...I'll help you look.”

“I...I looked everywhere. I...” you trailed off as you noticed the ratty green collar, abandoned on the counter and a nameless foreboding crept up your spine. “No. No, something is wrong. I need to...”

Henry held you firmly by the shoulders and looked into your eyes, saying your name slowly, then, “I know this sounds insane, but that sweet little black cat is fine. I know that he's fine. I promise.”

Your look of dismay turned to one of sinking suspicion. Suddenly you saw the odd, charming man before you in a new light of doubt. How did he know Loki was a black cat?

You went through all of it in your mind, from the beginning. He swept you off your feet at work after apparently “noticing” you (unbeknownst to you) for some time, only communicated through messages and gifts but never called. He knew what to order for your lunch without asking. You were reminded, with a sinking feeling in your stomach, of his sly expression as he knowingly quipped about his “intuition”. He found out where you lived, knew your curtains were new, knew what your cat looked like. Now...now you had invited him into your apartment.

Idiot, you scolded yourself. He's some kind of stalker lunatic. You were too smitten to see it.

You spoke more loudly, “And how the hell do you know that, Henry? ...if that's even your real name,” you said, walking backwards toward the kitchen and drawing a large knife out of the holder.

Loki said your name gently, eyes going wide, and put his hands up in surrender, “What on earth is this? What's going...”

You stared him down, glaring over the glinting line of the knife. “I...I was so bind...an unbelievably dashing and mysterious foreign man noticing me at work, giving me fancy letters and gifts...never even telling me your last name...sweet-talking Janet into giving you my address. Did you take Loki because you're some kind of obsessive weirdo? Have you been in my apartment? What...what are you...some kind of con artist or...or just a pervert? Well, I obviously don't have much to steal, so why are you doing this? Should I check my underwear drawer for a few missing panties, or what? Just....what the fuck is this?”

The volume of your voice climbed as your words grew more frantic and shrill.

Loki sighed and gathered his thoughts, speaking deliberately as he moved closer, “Please, just listen. You can't hurt me with that. You're more likely to hurt yourself, so please, put it down.”

In a panic, you lunged forward with the knife. In a glow of green light you passed right through Henry and tumbled to the floor, as the blade clattered over the tiles. You winced, feeling a bruise begin to form, then your mouth dropped in shock as you watched Henry evaporate in a glowing green slither of light.

You began to scream, but a cold pale hand covered you mouth to silence you. The man beside you was the man in your dream; coal black hair, alabaster skin, and Henry's face in a different color palette. Your mind went utterly blank aside from a single frenetic thought on loop. I'm dreaming. This isn't real.

Loki felt horrible about causing you pain. He could feel your hot stilted breath pummeling his palm. You trembled like a small terrified animal under his hand. He thought of how you must have bruises blossoming somewhere on your precious skin from your fall.

“As much as I hate to see you in distress, I'm afraid I have to do this,” he said, eyes wide and apologetic, brow creased in concern. He raised his hands summoning a green glow that wrapped around your arms and mouth, stilling and silencing you, then compelled you to sit on the couch. Once you were sitting, he knelt before you in his armor, green cape flaring like a curtain over the floor. In another situation you might have laughed at how much it looked like some Arthurian prince about to rescue a maiden in your shabby apartment.

“Please. Please, listen,” he said very softly. “What I'm going to tell you is going to be hard to believe. You saw me, in your dream, but I'm real. I am Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard, and I am Henry, and I am...well...I'm also Loki, your cat. Now...if I remove the binding from your mouth, do you promise not to scream?”

You forced your mind to at least try to wrap around this. You had just seen the impossible and you had to admit that you'd be no match for this...person?...Magician?...God?. And as usual, you had to find out what all this meant. Your curiosity trumped your fear. Finally, you nodded.

He smiled and released the binding over your mouth. You took in a heaving breath and blinked a few times, still not entirely sure of what you were witnessing. He averted his gaze and said, “I'm so sorry to hurt you, or confuse you...”

“Or lie to me? Or terrify me?”

He sighed. “Yes, especially that.” He was silent for a moment, tongue poking between his lips in thought. You were surprised by that. It was a cute gesture, reminding you of...of your cat.

“Jesus...this...this is all so weird. I can't...”

“I know,” he said, soothing, “But I also know you're very good and you're very clever and you're very brave. I've seen it within your mind. I've seen it in your actions.”

“You can read my mind? Fuck...that's unsettling.”

“It's...not quite like that. Just...we have a special connection. I don't even entirely understand it. I wasn't anticipating it. We can see into each other a bit more than other people can. Listen, if I touch you. I can show you everything. Can I do that? Please.”

You considered carefully. He was asking, genuinely asking. A psycho killer probably wouldn't ask, right? Fuck...whatever, at this point. I can't go this far without knowing.

“Okay,” you said.

With your permission, Loki slid his hands very gently over your hair until he was cradling your head in his elegant hands. Slowly, he placed his forehead against yours and a green glow spun into a nebula around you.

Time became strange. Your consciousness tumbled through his experiences as he poured his knowledge into your mind. You saw his life in Asgard, his family and friends (if you could really call them that). You saw why he related so much to you in some of the saddest ways. Tumbling further, you saw in more detail; the bet with Thor, the hijinks as D.B. Cooper and every moment and thought and image from his perspective since he landed in that dumpster.

It was an odd thing, a completely foreign experience, to see yourself through Loki's eyes as his perceptions changed. At the start, as a liar, a narcissistic schemer and fugitive, he saw you as nothing but a tool, a servant, and a diversion. It was even stranger once you began to see yourself through the lens of his reluctant but unstoppable feelings of affection, then friendship, then through the floral illuminated frame of utter selfless love. He loved you. This ancient god, a strange and powerful and feared being, loved you. The god of mischief saw you as a goddess; one whom he hoped would choose to be by his side for all time. You saw yourself, in many iterations, through the frame of his eyes, and what he saw was absolute worthiness (a feeling you had never really felt for yourself).

Then the green fog cleared and you heard the echo of his beautiful deep voice calling you back to the present. As you slowly opened your eyes, he leaned back and unraveled the bindings from the rest of your body. You both sat quietly for a moment; you on the couch, and Loki still kneeling beside you. After a moment you chuckled and said with a wry smile, “That was brave of you to do. How do you know I won't still come after you with a kitchen knife?”

He chuckled in relief. “I'll take my chances. And I'm not nearly as brave as you've been, darling.”

“So...now I know everything,” you said softly reaching for his hand. He looked surprised by that, uncertain if he deserved to hold your hand, and it made your heart ache.

“You do, and yet...my kind, brave girl...you still reach for my hand?” he said gazing up, those bright aquamarine eyes wide and solicitous.

You squeezed where your palms pressed together. You nodded and smiled as tears made their way down your face, making it hard to talk with the tightness in your throat. You said, shakily, “But you've only seen into some of my mind...my history. What if you don't like the rest? All the pain, and insecurity, and bad days, and mistakes, and disappointments, and failures and...unworthiness...”

Loki inturruped your downward spiral with a finger against your lips. “Shh shh shh. You are worthy, that doesn't mean perfect. No one is.”

“But you can't know how much worse I might really be. I think I'm a pretty good person...I try to be, but what if I'm not...what if I'm not who you need me to be?”

Loki came up to join you on the couch now, sitting closely and wiping the tears from your eyes. He said your name, reverently, like a prayer. “Who you are is someone who has worked very very hard...someone who's survived so many bad times and bad days and abandonment and a childhood of being dragged to church and shamed. You're someone who set out alone across the country to build a life...someone who loves horror movies because you always try to push yourself towards the things that scare you. You're someone who summons the strength, every day, to face the world as it is and to find beauty in it, because you're so brave and so kind. You're someone who loves to drink coffee in the afternoon, but falls asleep on the couch after awhile anyway. Someone who has read hundreds of books.

Your favorite color is purple, and your favorite band is The Velvet Underground. You're always cold, and you've worn that damned gray sweater for 10 years to try to stay warm but it's never enough. You like tomato soup and grilled cheese on rainy days. You hate those high heels and kick them off in the same spot every single day. You're someone unbelievably generous...generous enough to take in a moody selfish little homicidal creature mewling from a rubbish heap. Who else would do that?”

You chuckled through a sob, answering, “A lot of people, Loki. That's just called owning a cat.”

He laughed with you at that, then stroked a hand through your hair, tilting your chin so you could meet his eyes. “And you're very funny” he added to his long list. “Please, believe me when I tell you this. No one like you has ever been, or ever will be again. You are entirely unique. And in all of the cosmos and the myriad realms, I had the good fortune to find you and now....” he said, moving closer still until his sharp cheek grazed your own soft one, “I don't ever want to let you go.”

Loki kissed you, breathy and hesitant at first as his lips skated across your own. Then your sighs mingled and your mouths opened to invite each other in...to invite each other home...finally home. You lost all sense of time as his arm encircled your waist and your hands wove into his soft inky hair. You never wanted to stop. The two of your were lost in the world of your own senses; a universe of breath, and warmth, and the soft feeling and smell of each others skin (a mingling of mint and lavender), the sound of pattering night rain outside the balcony doors.

You both jumped as the rain turned suddenly into a thunderstorm, interrupting your rapturous moment. The brightest lightning and the loudest thunder you had ever experienced, rioted outside as your balcony doors swung open. You yelped as the largest man you had ever seen in your life materialized in your living room. Loki jumped up and gathered you tightly, protectively, against his own body. The enormous viking man bellowed out, “Brother! I knew you would show yourself once again and we would find you. You can't run forever, you conniving little snake!”

@averagetmblrusser @primrosesposts @fruityfucker @arunabrak @mischief2sarawr @ladyofthestayingpower @acidcasualties @unlucky-number-13 @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokihiddleston @chokeanddagger @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @marcotheflychair @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @littlespaceyelf @little-wormwood @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @eleniblue @loz-3 @the-haven-of-fiction @sweetsigyn @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @holdmytesseract @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @sailorholly @coldnique @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @infinitystoner @peachyjinx @mischiefmaker615 @jennyggggrrr @tripleyeeet @itsybitchylittlewitchy @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @madi0987 @buttercupcookies-blog @annoyingsweetsstranger @anukulee @aesonmae

[n1ght0wl-0]

Klaus Hargreeves x Dave Katz

Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves x Dave Katz

Notes: It's bittersweet. I apologize for nothing

Summary: Klaus and Dave talk about a future where they might get accepted for who they are.

The ground is muddy and wet, but Klaus doesn't care as he sits down in front of a tree. It's the middle of the night—one of the few times he has to himself.

In the heart of the forest, away from the relentless noise of the 21st century, there's a strange sense of peace. That is, when he manages to block out the war raging all around him.

Maybe he should have left a long time ago. But when he thinks of Dave, he can't. When he remembers his smile, his eyes—his big hands cupping his face or gripping his hips in the secrecy of the night...

No matter how much he misses Ben, Dave occupies his every thought, his whole heart. The idea of living without him seems like the hardest thing he could ever face.

And he won't. He will never live without him again, not if he has a choice. Even though this time isn't kind to him. A place that isn't kind to anyone—yet the ghosts surrounding him scream that he has it worse.

Probably a selfish thought. Still, he always has that nightmare of Dave becoming one of them—screaming at him, tearing at his clothes. It makes him want to cry.

"What are you doing here, all alone?" A voice murmurs quietly, a whisper in the dark night. A whisper he'd recognize anywhere. The deep, low tone, the gentle tilt when it's directed at him.

"Mhm, just enjoying nature," Klaus replies just as softly, turning his head to look at Dave. The man smiles at him, his hair sleep-tousled, his eyes tired. He's just as handsome as ever.

"You? Enjoying nature?" Dave asks incredulously, moving to sit down beside him. He winces at the cold mud, and Klaus grins. "You could be lying in the tent. Instead, you sit in the cold mud we have to crawl through tomorrow anyway?"

Klaus shrugs, looking up at the sky. Leaning back against the tree, he closes his eyes for a moment. They ache, and his stomach knots at the thought of tomorrow. They’re lucky—they’re still alive.

So many others didn't make it out alive. But being lucky now doesn't guarantee luck for the rest of the war. If that nightmare ever becomes reality...

He can't go back to a life without Dave.

"What if I told you I know a way out of this?" Klaus croaks suddenly, turning to look at Dave. His lips tremble, and he forces them still. "A way into a time where we could be... us."

Dave looks at him, his eyes so soft that Klaus never wants him to look away again. Their hands meet in the middle, and they grasp each other tightly, making Dave chuckle quietly.

"That... Klaus, that's impossible," he murmurs. "If there were a place like that, I would go. But no one accepts people like... like us."

Klaus wants to tell him. He desperately wants to tell him about the future, a place where they can be together and live openly.

But he keeps his mouth shut. He can't risk losing Dave over this. He can't bear the thought of Dave thinking he's crazy.

"They will, someday," Klaus says instead, and Dave gently squeezes his hand. "They will accept us."

Dave doesn't look convinced, but he leans over to press a kiss to Klaus's head. Klaus smiles and leans into his embrace.

"It's a nice thought," Dave mumbles. "You always say things like that, as if you're sure about the future."

Klaus laughs weakly, shrugging. He leans into Dave's side, and an arm wraps around him. It's warm and safe. Dave smells like sweat, mud, and maybe even a hint of blood. Klaus buries his nose in the man's neck.

"Maybe I just know."

Dave rolls his eyes fondly, looking down at his partner.

"Can you see the future?" he teases gently and Klaus grins weakly. They're both quiet for a moment.

Klaus just enjoys Dave's arms, imagining to be somewhere else. Somewhere safe and warm.

"Promise you'll always stay with me?" Klaus whispers, looking up at Dave with pleading eyes. His heart clenches, and he grabs Dave's big hand even tighter.

"I promise," Dave whispers back. "I'll always be by your side."

[httpsryu]

bittersweet

pairing : wonyoung x fem! reader

summary: wonyoung always thought her and y/n would last for a long time-even until death. until something shifted between them.

category: best friends-to-strangers, high school au

genre: fluff and heavy angst

warnings: heartache, one-sided love, y/n can't come to terms with herself, wonyoung is lowkey toxic

a/n: thank you sooo much for the love on kites and as always, feel free to request!

it was always 'wonyoung and y/n' or 'y/n and wonyoung' everywhere you go. from primary school all the way through high school.

wonyoung and you met at the age of five during the first day of primary where the taller female approached you while you were crying because you thought your parents left you there forever.

ever since then, the both of you could never get separated. EVER

along with growing up together, there also came a consequence of unrecognizable emotions towards other people. for wonyoung's case; her emotions were always towards you, even now.

"hellooo? earth to wony?" you wave your hands in front of your best friend, wondering why she's spacing out in study hall AGAIN.

the other female swiftly shakes her head, blanking a few times to get back in the zone. "huh?"

"you okay? you've been spacing out these days." concerned, you place your hand on the other's forehead, not knowing how much this suffocated wonyoung.

wonyoung feels her heart beating loudly against her chest at the sudden touch from you. "i-i'm okay."

"you sure?"

"positive."

you nod and smile at your best friend. "alright, as i were saying, i still can't believe jungwon invited me to roller skating. like me? me out of everyone in this school?"

there it is again.

that sick feeling forming in the pit of her stomach again when she imagines you and jungwon holding hands this friday at the newly opened skate rink.

"you're amazing, y/n." wonyoung manages to say without feeling too nauseous. "there's no wonder he asked you."

at her words, you feel your heart melting. "thanks wony, your words mean the most to me."

if they mean the most to you, does that mean if she asks you to not go, would you not go?

"they do?"

you nod, grinning brightly at her. "of course. you're my favorite person in the world, wonyoung."

wonyoung couldn't help but to smile at your eye-smile. you should be arrested for being beautiful. she tells herself that it isn't fair for others on this planet when you're walking around carelessly not knowing the affect you have on others.

"you're my favorite too, y/n."

the taller female smiles softly, ignoring the way her heart is beating loudly against her chest.

of course; the moment becomes short-lived and ruined when jungwon walks through the classroom and surprises you by putting his hands over your eyes.

"guess who?" jungwon says from behind, his dimple evident.

wonyoung watches you, knowing you're excited.

if only she could be jungwon for a day.

seeing the way you do your makeup appealingly through your bedroom's vanity mirror makes wonyoung focus and take her breath away. (specifically because of your face)

"you don't even need makeup anyways." wonyoung says, feeling envious of the fact that you're doing makeup for jungwon and that he gets to be the one to see you.

you roll your eyes. "but it's our official first date."

"did he even say it was a date?" the taller readjusts herself on your bed, now sitting up to directly make eye contact with you through the mirror.

something about her eyes gives you a weird feeling. you can't quite put your mind to it.

"no, but he-"

now, it's wonyoung's turn to roll her eyes. "so, why even bother trying to look good for him? if anything, he probably is still sitting in his room playing video games instead of putting the effort to look presentable for tonight."

"i guess you're right.." you put down the blush you were going to apply with a sigh.

wonyoung smiles softly, patting the spot next to her, motioning for you to sit. "let's make matching bracelets before you have to leave."

you smile as you get up from the vanity's seat, making your way towards your bed where wonyoung is already humming while taking out the bracelet kit from her backpack.

"we should put our initials in them too!" the other suggests, picking out the letters.

"sure! just make sure it doesn't look like we're lovers." you giggle. "jungwon won't be too happy about that."

wonyoung is positive she can hear her heart shattering. "w-why? we're best friends. he knows that."

"yeahh-but he would feel left out."

the other furrows her eyebrows in anger. "sometimes, i wish jungwon would've never asked you out."

what? why?

"why would you say that?" you gasp, appalled at how your best friend is acting. "i make sure to spend enough time with you and him as promised."

wonyoung dryly laughs, poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue. "clearly, you'd rather be with him than me."

"he's my BOYFRIEND, wony!" you argue back. "i thought you were happy for me?"

yeah, she is.

"i am..." wonyoung looks down at your bed sheets.

"then, why are you so upset with the idea of me dating him?"

the taller female brings her gaze up at you. "because i'm in love with you, y/n."

oh.

but you don't feel the same way as her.

or do you?

"i-i'm not into girls like that." you mutter, feeling guilty all of a sudden. "you know that, wonyoung."

"i have to go." wonyoung quickly gathers her things.

"wony."

she bids you a quick goodbye after getting off your bed and grabbing her backpack. "see you at school on monday."

jungwon hands you the cherry slushy you ordered, taking a seat besides you. "cherry, just how you like it."

"thanks." you smile at him, grabbing it from him while your hand softly grazes against his, causing the both of you to go red and awkwardly cough.

"i had fun, y/n." the cat eyed male smiles, his dimple appearing as your eyes look down at it.

"yeah, me too." you reply, taking a sip of the slushy.

jungwon notices your short response, worry suddenly circulating his mind. "are you alright? you seem a little out of it tonight."

"yeah! it's just wonyoung and i broke out in a fight earlier before." your mind flashing back to what happened in your room today and wonyoung's words repeating in your head. "i'm sorry this ruined our night. i was looking forward to it all day and i ruined it."

feeling a hand grab yours, you look down at it.

"don't be sorry." jungwon reassures you, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. "as long as you still had fun."

"oh! i absolutely did." you reply immediately, having the male besides you giggle cutely.

"good." jungwon smiles even brighter this time, his smile suddenly turns into a shocked expression from the feeling of your lips on his dimple.

"thank you for this night, wonnie." you look away after the peck, flustered.

jungwon can't help but to feel like a child, grabbing your hand to his mouth and pecking the back of it. "thank you, my girl."

however, in the back of your head, wonyoung sits there.

just finished my last final for the year! scholar things :P

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Happy New Year (A Doppelgänger interlude)

Pairing: Ransom x Reader, Lloyd x Reader

Summary: Your fiance has a special New Years surprise for you. 

Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon, Dark!Ransom, Lloyd Hansen is his own warning, Switching Places, Alcohol, Mind games, Darkfic, Smut, Dead Dove: Do not eat, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: so lots of people have been asking when the first time they switched places on reader was… happy new year, everyone! divider by @firefly-graphics​

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I’m just not going to make it home.” Ransom sounds genuinely apologetic over the phone. “Something came up. Harlan’s sick—could be bad.” Your heart sinks as he says it. You don’t want to feel anything but empathy, but instead, bitter jealousy curls in your stomach alongside it. After all, you’re family too, aren’t you? You’re engaged, aren’t you? 

 When do I get to come first? You feel guilty even thinking it—after all, it isn’t like Ransom hasn’t put you first in all sorts of other ways. But you’re lonely, and you miss him. You’ve been alone in this big house since just after Christmas, and it’s starting to get to you. His “day or two” visit had become three, become four—and now you were standing alone amidst the various holiday decorations you’d put up in anticipation of his arrival. 

 “That sounds terrible,” you say, swallowing down the bitter frustration. After all, it isn’t his fault. You know he’s in charge of so much at the publishing company, and you don’t want to complain. “When do you think you’ll be home?”

 I know it’s a shitty way to spend your New Year’s,” Ransom says. “No need to sugarcoat it.”

 “I just… dammit, Ran, you know I miss you,” your teeth sink into your trembling lower lip. You don’t want to cry, dammit, you’re not one of those girls who can’t spend a weekend without their fiancé. You feel silly even being upset. 

 “I know, Sweetheart. I miss you too. I promise, I’ll fly home tomorrow, and we’ll have a belated New Years party. Just you and me. Okay?” He sounds so earnest, it’s hard not to forgive him instantly. 

 “Okay.” 

 “Don’t say it like that, baby. I promise, we’ll make it special, okay?” 

 “Okay, Ran,” you say, a small watery smile crossing your features. He can’t see it, but his relieved sigh tells you he can feel the tension easing between you as well. “And you’ll call at midnight?”

 “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 You hang up the phone, and stare dejectedly at your festively decorated house. Even though Ransom’s only coming home a day later, it all feels like wasted effort now, like you invited all your friends to your birthday party and not a single one of them showed. You kick at one of the silver balloons littering the living room floor, and it pops, showering both you and the carpet in brightly colored paper confetti. 

 Maybe it was silly to go to all of this effort, but… you want things to be special. First New Years together, first apartment together—a year of firsts that you’d completed together. It feels bittersweet to be alone now, but you swallow it. You sigh, shoving more balloons off of the couch and collapsing onto it. 

 Maybe it’s not too late to call Nat.

 Your sister texted you just the day before to ask if you had any special New Year’s plans, maybe it’s not too late to tag along with her. You grab your phone. It’s not too late, only a little past six as you pull up her contact info, and punch the green button to dial her. 

 “—as anyway. Hello?”

 “Oh, hey, Nat.” You can hear muffled laughter and the low murmur of conversation in the background. “You busy?”

 “Just pre-gaming before we go out,” she says. That rich, deep laugh sounds again, and your cheeks heat. You hadn’t realized Nathalie’s we included a male friend. “Your boo-thang home yet?”

 You let out an awkward laugh. “Ugh, no. He, um. He got held up, family stuff. I was wondering if you wanted to come over? Maybe hang out tonight?” Even as you’re speaking, you hear someone on the other end groan frustratedly. 

 “Come on, Nattie,” The deep male voice is just loud enough for you to hear. “You said you were gonna make me see stars. Was that all talk?” 

 “I would,” You can practically hear the sly smile on her lips. “But I kind of… already made plans, if you catch my drift.” There’s a loud slap, and Nathalie’s girly giggle makes you roll your eyes. “I can stop by after?” 

 “I don’t think you’ll be walking after,” you retort. “Don’t worry about it. Happy New Year.” 

 You shuffle around the house irritatedly, trying to find something to do with yourself that doesn’t remind you of just how alone you are tonight.  Depressingly, you settle on chores. You throw a load of laundry into the washer in the hallway, and meander back to the living room. You know your little decoration whirlwind will only be a hassle later, but you can’t bring yourself to take them down. The bottle of prosecco you picked up at the liquor store is still sitting in its melting ice bath on the coffee table, the two glasses next to it sadly empty. 

 “Happy New Year to me,” you mumble, climbing over the back of the couch and landing on the pillows with a dramatic oof. You reach for the bottle, carefully undoing the aluminum contradiction that keeps the cork in place. It pops out, skittering away underneath one of the living room chairs for you to find later. You pay the errant cork no mind, and pour yourself a liberal glass. 

 Bitterly, you hold it up to the quiet air in a mock toast. 

 “First drink of the night,” you say, downing half of it in a single gulp. The bubbles tickle your nose, but the alcohol is sweet and palatable. You finish the glass and pour another, reaching for the remote. By the time you've finished your second glass, the alcohol is sitting warmly in your belly, and the bitter, angry feeling roiling in the back of your mind is both less obtrusive and somehow more present than ever. Aimlessly, you flip through channels, watching other people celebrate the new year as you slide progressively further and further into the bottle. 

 After you finish your fourth glass you don't bother with it anymore, instead swigging straight from the bottle. The comfortable warmth settling in your tummy is spreading out, down your limbs, into your fingers, making your head loll as you lay there. You squint at the cable box—10:45. A whole hour and fifteen minutes left of this year. 

 The dryer dings, and you groan. “Stupid thing,” you mumble, staggering to your feet. Doing laundry while drunk is a skill set, you decide as you make your way to the hall closet, the floor tilting dangerously under your feet. There's a bang that echoes down the front hallway as you open the laundry room door, and you squint at the dryer, swaying as you try to place the noise. It sounds again, and it takes your liquor muddied brain a few seconds to understand—

 It's the door. 

 “One second,” you say, hoping the words don’t sound as slurred to the person on the other side of it as they do to you. “M'Coming.” You eye yourself in the hallway mirror, and practice walking in a straight line before you reach for the door handle. “How can I—Ran?” Your husband's face cracks into a wide grin as you blink at him. “How—?” You hiccup, covering your mouth as your cheeks warm with embarrassment . 

 “Happy new year, Princess.” He steps over the threshold, wiping his shoes on the mat. You're so happy to see him, you practically throw yourself into his arms, sniffling. He smells good, like pine and leather. gold chain under his turtleneck rubs against your cheek through the fabric as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. 

 “II thought you had to, um. Harlan,” you try to make the alcohol added words make sense on your loose tongue. “Sick?” He chuckles, cupping your chin. 

 “Someone's had a few,” he says with a laugh, and you giggle up at him. “Besides, I needed to see my girl,” he says, drawing his thumb affectately over the apple of your cheek. “I missed you… ” He trails off, his eyes focusing on something behind you. “Did you do this?” Ransom gestures to the decorations. You nod, another hiccup forcing its way up through your lips. 

 “I w-wanted to surprise you. Do you like it, Ran?”

 “I love it.” His responding laugh is dark with an emotion you can't name. He leans down to kiss you, his mouth moving hungry against yours. You kiss him back, and then wrinkle your nose, frowning as you pull away . 

 “You grew out your beard,” you say, drawing a finger across the mustache sitting just above his upper lip. “So fast…?” He chuckles. 

 "I'll shave it tomorrow." He kisses you again, moaning into your mouth. "Fuckin' sweet," he mumbles, worrying your plump lower lip between his teeth. He pulls away, panting, his eyes dark. a drink, Princess,” he says lowly. “I need to catch up.” 

 You're acutely aware of your stumbling as you head back to the kitchen for the other bottle chilling in the fridge. Ransom saves you the trouble of opening it, popping the cork and pouring himself a glass. He refills your discarded flute, and the two of you drink together. 

 “You really outdid yourself, baby,” he says, nodding at the brightly colored, festive streamers hanging in the doorways. You can't help but beam a little proudly at him.

 “I thought you would like it,” you say, taking a sip from your glass when Ransom indicates that you should, tapping the stem as if to say bottoms up. 

 "Can't ring in the new year sober, can we?" He says, topping your glass back up before its even empty. "I love it. I can't believe I almost missed it," he says, shaking his head . You watch as he rounds the kitchen island, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Getting close now, aren't we, Princess?” He asks, his hands straying underneath the hem of your plain pajama shorts. “We should get ready to count down." 

 He walks you back out to the living room and flips on the television, a snowy Times Square appearing on the flat-screen. The music is almost too loud, and the room spins around you as Ransom leads you back to the couch. The champagne glass in your hand slips from your fingers, landing on the carpet with a soft tinkle as the stem snaps neatly in two.

 “R-Ran, we sh-should—” You don't remember sitting down, but suddenly you are, splayed messily across the sofa as Ransom climbs over you. Your skin burns hot from the alcohol, and you whine as his cool fingers press into your hips. 

 “I'll clean it up later.” The low sultry purr makes you shiver. You can't shake the niggling feeling that something is wrong, but Ransom won't let you think. He kisses down your jaw, nibbling at your throat as he sandwiches you between his hard chest and the couch cushions. He slides down, his knees hitting the carpet with a muffled thud as he stars up at you from between your thighs.

You don't remember him sliding your shorts off, but as his breath puffs across your moist, swollen folds, he licks his lips. 

 "Even prettier than I thought you'd be." Something about his words gives you pause, but as you struggle to sit up, Ransom's arms tightened around your thighs, pulling you forward until your hips dangle off the edge of the couch, your thighs slung over his shoulders. “That's better.” The harsh rasp of his mustache against your cunt is lost in the sensation of his tongue sliding through your folds. 

 You can't even remember what you were going to complain about, the words lost in the hiss of air through your clenched teeth. Ransom does it again, parting your soft, puffy lips to circle your slick entrance with his tongue. 

 “Princess, you better start counting,” Ransom says cheekily, “or you’re going to miss it.” 

 “T-ten. Nine— oh fuck,” you whimper, your hips rolling against his face as Ransom’s tongue flicks expertly at your clit. “R-Ran—”

 "I said count, Princess." 

 "F-five, four, three— God—!" You're barely aware of the sound of your phone ringing somewhere else in the house, but you can't focus on it, not when Ransom is curling his fingers inside you like that and—

 You press your head back into the cushions, staring unseeingly at the ceiling as you cum with a whimper, your thighs clenching tightly around Ransom's head. You try to pull away, but his grip only tights, his tongue lashing against your clit as your cries grow louder, ringing in your own ears. 

 "Ransom, Ran I c-can't, I can't—!" You babble gibberish down at him as your toes curl. He doesn't move, though, doesn't relinquish his grip until you're dragged down underneath the current of sticky pleasure again. You go limp, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes and down into your hair as you struggle to catch your breath. 

 “Happy New Year!” The television hosts jump excitedly as silver and gold confetti rain down around them. Auld Lang Syne blares from your television speakers as Ransom leans back on his knees, admiring the sloppy mess between your thighs. 

 “Happy New Year, Princess,” he echoes softly, drawing a finger through your trembling folds. You whine, trying to close your thighs around his hand. “Let's make it a good one.” 

[misc-obeyme]

Here's a kinda angsty thought I have with dateables!

Okay, the brothers and side characters (not Luke ofc) love MC, yeah? And MC makes it very clear the brothers are their first choice whenever they have to choose between them and the side characters.

Imagine Diavolo, Barbatos and Solomon hell maybe even Thirteen when they realize no matter what they do, the brothers will always be on top for MC. Sure, MC is great with them but they only truly relax and show their real self with the brothers and it shows.

What do you think? [BTW have a great night/day!]

MY FRIEND I AM SO SORRY.

Apparently this ask was sent way back in October?!?! It only just showed up today!!! Tumblr, whyyy??

I got your other ask today, too and I will answer that one as well! But I think this must have been the mystery message my ask box kept telling me was there, but I could never see it?! It was like you have 1 message, but then it'd also be like your ask box is empty and I was like which is it?!

I'm so sorry if you thought I just ignored your ask 😭

That is absolutely not my style at all, so a note to everyone who has ever sent me an ask: if I don't respond in maybe a week, please send it again!! I usually answer asks within a couple days, but I'm saying a week just in case I have some extenuating circumstances lol.

ANYWAY lemme actually answer your ask from two months ago! 😭

I think about the potential of this scenario when I wanna get angsty lol.

So here is what I think it would be like for the side characters realizing that MC will always choose the brothers over them:

Diavolo: Ahh, our prince would be so gentlemanly about it. Especially if MC ended up with Lucifer specifically. But either way, I think he would prioritize MC's happiness over his own. He would see MC's choice as a good one. He would see the way the brothers love MC. He would get sad about it sometimes and I think he'd have some sleepless nights where he wishes MC was beside him. But in the end, he would focus on his job and let MC go. Seeing them be comfortable and happy with the brothers would bring him a sort of bittersweet happiness, too.

Barbatos: I think Barbatos would withdraw. I think he would become quieter and even more formal around MC than he already was. He respects MC's choice. I also feel like he would deliberately restrain himself in order to keep the peace. He cares too much about Diavolo, the brothers, & the state of the Devildom to really fight for MC's affections.

Simeon: Quiet suffering, but willing to cry about it when he needs to. Like I see him being honest with himself about how much it hurts, but never letting anyone else know. He would watch MC with a soft fondness, but from afar. Willing to let them be with the brothers if that's what makes them happiest.

Solomon: To be expected. Solomon already believes this. He already thinks MC is going to choose the brothers over him every time. He's prepared for that inevitability. It still breaks his heart to watch them slip away from him. Deep down, it probably devastates him. But he's determined to be there for them in any way he can, no matter what that looks like. And he would never let them know how he really feels... unless he got drunk maybe.

Thirteen: I see her being kinda like, Fine! Who needs you anyway!? But she says it with tears in her eyes. She gets abrasive as a response. And at first she might be a little stand offish with MC after she realizes. But I think in the end, her love for MC would soften her again, but it would hurt, too. She would need some time to transition herself to "friends only" status.

Raphael: I see his response as being kind of a mix between Simeon and Barb. Like, he's going to accept MC's choice and wants them to be happy, but he's also going to have to restrain himself from fighting for MC. Mr Spears does not strike me as the kinda guy who would just let someone go if he really loved them. But he does seem to be the kind of guy who cares a lot about doing the right thing. And I think he would consider letting MC go to be the right thing.

Mephisto: I could see him trying to push MC away himself, in an effort to protect himself from getting hurt. Like oh who would want a human anyway? Only fallen angels, obviously. But that's not what he really thinks, it's just a coping mechanism. And he can't keep it up anyway. He's secretly soft for MC. So I see him just transitioning to hating the brothers. Not going out of his way to make their lives difficult, but not helping them out either. Only being nice to MC. Keeping that pain inside because he can't admit it even to himself.

Nooo I made myself sad lol. I guess that's the point of angst though, huh??

Anyway, I am very fascinated by this topic! Once again, I'm sorry you had to wait so long for the response, I'm still so annoyed at Tumblr lol.

[blanketorghost]

SIDE A:

I fell in love with the ideal person But as you can see They had to go And it is the love that tore apart my entire heart and soul When holding hands, In the park we kissed and tears fell On fallen rose petals And, sadly, they told me so: "I have to leave, And it's not because of me, my heart lies with you All the love of my insides, my chest and my soul I know one day I will return."

SIDE B:

It was you who said goodbye And yet tears run down your cheeks If you are going to erase even the memory of yesterday like this, That's enough. Just smile for me. I sing and sing about love, one that's out above the clouds But I can't see it with my clouded mind No, no, we talk and talk about those regrets that grow day by day, and as the night swarms We forgive each other but there's no meaning to it.

SO HEY UH. LIL SNEAK PEEK OF THEIR BREAKUP ARC???

TW: for mention of underaged sex (??? only adding this just in case bc it all depends if you think their bio ages are counting their bdays during the school year the main story takes place so they'd be 17/18 respectively but I consider them to be before the school year so they'd be 18/19)

ANYWAYS HI

I decided to make their breakup so specifically heartbreaking i myself choke up a little when I imagine the scenes I'll have to write (I'll definitely cry)

So uh.

The inevitable happens and Yuu has to leave. The days leading up to his leaving date things are very tense between them. A lot of their conversations are thinly veiled arguments about Azul wanting Yuu to stay and Yuu telling him he has to leave even though he doesn't want to. Azul thinks that he's making excuses and wants him to admit that he values his life on earth more than their relationship─ Yuu just wants Azul to understand that he has way too many responsibilities and life issues he needs to tie up before he can even think about running away with him to another dimension where he has nothing to his name and could slow Azul's progress down (It also doesn't help that Yuu never actually tells Azul just how famous and influential he is on earth). Yuu also thinks that they could try making a long distance relationship work since Idia and Ortho are working on ways to allow Yuu to reliably travel since they've already managed to make phones work, but Azul is very against long distance because he thinks Yuu would fall out of love if Azul isn't physically there to be of use to Yuu. They always get out of these fights by apologizing and just expressing how sad they are they can't be together but they ultimately never decide on anything. It's actually so stress inducing for everyone because they were in their whole honeymoon phase before this.

There's a whole going away party the day before Yuu leaves and even though it's fun, everything is very bittersweet and I even have this cute scene where Grim asks to go to sleep on Yuu's bed like how they did before Ramshackle was fixed up pre ch.3 🥺

BUT ANYWAYS before the Grim scene, Azul texts Yuu to come to his room in Ramshackle (Yuu often gifts the dorm's spare rooms to friends including Azul ofc) so they can talk about what they're going to do. Yeah well the conversation gets derailed and they end up having sex for the first time as like a way of Yuu physically trying to show Azul that he will love him forever no matter what //sobs

Thats when Grim barges in after they're done and asks for Yuu to sleep over. With Azul's permission he goes and sleeps with Grim but he still feels guilty because they did something very intimate together and if able he would've wanted to spend the night with Azul instead. Yuu ofc can't say no to Grim because he also loves him a lot, though.

In the morning then Yuu wakes up and makes breakfast for Azul as like a way to apologize for not staying over+ maybe make up and talk more about what they'll do?? but when he goes over to Azul's room he finds out that Azul left even earlier in the morning and broke up with him through LETTER.

So uhm yeah Yuu is obviously very heartbroken about all this but he tries to keep a strong face for his friends since he is literally leaving today and doesn't want anyone to feel even worse than they are rn. All while Yuu is giving his goodbyes, he doesn't see Azul and thinks he just dipped and won't say goodbye in person. But Azul actually does go at the last second and they say goodbye, trying to leave their relationship in amicable terms despite everything and despite they're both crying like babies. But then Yuu kisses his forehead tells him he LOVES HIM so Azul decides to play the bad guy and say goodbye to him for good.

Obviously he eventually regrets that decision but in the meantime,

here we are

also fun fact!! Yuu's vc is Symag (alongside others- im trying to catch a vibe) and this SONG in Yuu's canon he actually writes it after their break up so legit this song is about Azul in Yuu's universe BYE

[kaleen-art]

The Big Golden Showdown is Peak Part 1

I have been a long time Part 1 fan but I always had a few episodes I never finished. Back in November or December of last year, I embarked on a rewatch of the Part 1 episodes I had already seen as well as watching the ones remaining, primarily the last 3. It took a while due to personal issues, but I completed the last 3, and I especially enjoyed the final episode (#23), The Big Golden Showdown. So I wrote an essay on it! Read it below!

Hayao Miyazaki has always had a thing for raising the stakes to the utmost degree in his finales. Though I have not yet completed Part 2, I have watched the finale of which he was the director of and you can see that there especially, in which the usually low-stakes silly Part 2 builds a level of tension and terror in the air through its sheer scope. Part 1 however differs, because at face value there is nothing particularly different about the Part 1 finale. It’s a pretty standard Lupin caper, and it ends as most Lupin capers do. They get the treasure, end up losing it somehow anyway but just barely make it out while Zenigata chases after in an attempt to apprehend them. But it’s on a character level I think this episode captures my heart.

Most evidently, Zenigata is at his literal wits’ end. It’s important to note this episode solidifies one of my favorite aspects of Part 1, its continuity. Zenigata acknowledges by now he has captured Lupin twice in the series, and has twice lost him, and after continually failing to get and keep him behind bars, even with the help of a supercomputer, he seems to have given up when he admits to the Police Commissioner that even if he was at the bank when they were transferring the gold coins over, Lupin would’ve been able to steal it anyway. This appears to be a far cry from the Zenigata we’ve previously seen who stuck it through thick and thin. Goemon even remarks that Zenigata is acting differently, though Lupin stubbornly denies it (this underestimation becomes his crucial flaw at the end of the episode). But now he says that if he’s unsuccessful, he’ll resign. This already adds serious weight to this episode. You can observe this in the general tone. 

Additionally, while Part 1’s soundtrack is often ridiculed I find it incredibly fitting for how it’s used. The somber tones of the songs set an overture of finality to this episode, and it really makes things seem like this is the end. And historically speaking, this show failed to meet rating expectations, so to the staff at the time, for all they knew, it WAS. This would be the last time Lupin would ever be animated and the manga was already over, so I believe knowing this, they made this episode as a somber farewell to the characters. It is a bittersweet goodbye.

I think another facet of this is how the characters act. Even though for a majority of it, we see Lupin and the gang act on usual business, they sense something is different, as Goemon says. When Lupin goes to his old hideout, he carelessly wrecks tons of his family heirlooms saying they’re junk and he doesn’t need them. As if he’s ready to move on. Everything seems like it’s going to culminate in this heist, and though I don’t think this was ever going to be their last heist, it’s the climax of their careers (at least up to that point) in a way.

And on that note, it’s in the episode’s climax that these themes come together. Lupin the entire series is always very brash and though it always works out for him, it is here where his crucial flaw comes in. He makes a grave error in this episode and ends up leading the police and Zenigata to him and the gang. Now LUPIN is at his wits’ end. Even though at first it seems like Lupin was just bluffing to Zenigata about not wanting to live anymore after making such a screw-up, I think in a way he was being genuine. As we saw in Episode 4, Lupin takes it hard when he loses to Zenigata. That's why he was willing to fake his death rather than just be taken into custody. There's no doubt he would have escaped, but the idea he could be arrested over such an oversight, he'd rather fake his own death in a dramatic explosion. A true finale.

But that's when the beautiful ending comes in. Lupin thinks he's finally won once and for all, that he successfully faked his death, and the viewers then likely thought that this would be the end of the adventures of Lupin III, once and for all. But then, Zenigata comes back unexpectedly, and in that moment where Lupin and Zenigata look into each other’s eyes, under the water, I think both them and the viewer realize something. It will never be over. And though "the chase will never end" is an easy thing for people to say in a world where this show has been running for 50+ years, back then, that meant something truly special.

Once again, it is the perfect bittersweet ending, and I think the episode’s character writing and exploration in how these characters deal with such heavy stakes make it a personal favorite of mine. Part 1 was so good, only an ending like this could top it off.

[littlemisspascal]

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet in Time

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 7k+

Summary: There’s not a single day in a whole year that isn’t bookmarked by a memory of him. And you, you remember all of them.

Rating: T

Warnings: Pokémon au (but not 100% true to canon, just elements + some characters), time skips in non-linear manner, fluff, angst, bittersweet ending, storms, language, Reader and Frankie are same age + grow up together, high school au ish(?), inspired by 500 Days of Summer + Song of Achilles' 'name one hero who was happy' scene + this quote by photographer David Alan Harvey:

"Don't shoot what it looks like. Shoot what it feels like."

- Reader has no official name and no physical traits described in detail. However, she is mentioned to have hair, a career, wear a dress (no description), and eat sandwiches

Author Note: I've been wanting to write a Pokémon au for a long, long, long time and I've also been wanting to write a non-linear fic for a long, long, long time as well so this is the result of both those wants combining forces *awkwardly throws it into the universe* It is what it is.

-- all moodboard photos found on pinterest

-- shinx, luxio, luxray // pikachu photo references

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me through my breakdowns 💜

Day 1,695

Luxray’s a silent wall of black and blue fur for your body to brace against as the sky bleeds a deep shade of orange, and you know he knows. Doesn’t even have to use his x-ray vision to confirm what’s etched into every line of your expression. Anguish—when it’s real and unbearable and deeply-rooted—is impossible to hide. Everyone who looks at you will know. 

Everyone except the one pair of brown eyes that’ll never look your way again.

“I’m such an idiot,” you say quietly, and it’s embarrassing how thick the lump of emotion is lodged in your throat. You wipe at your nose with your sleeve. “So damn stupid.”

Luxray lets out a low growl, chiding in nature, as if to say don’t talk shit about yourself. 

“He was never going to stay,” you continue, ignoring the vibration rattling your bones. “But I got my hopes up anyways. What we’ve accomplished these last few weeks together, I thought there was a chance…a slim one, you know? That maybe–maybe we could actually stick together this time.”

And you don’t realize you’re crying until Luxray’s twisting his head to nuzzle against your temple, encouraging you to bury your face into the thick fur along his chest and shoulders. With your eyes squeezed shut, you can almost block out the all-encompassing numbness emanating from the cavity your heart used to reside in.

“He’s gone…” you choke out through sobs, grabbing fistfuls of Luxray’s inky black mane. “And I think it’s permanent this time.”

Day 1

The first day of classes at Uva Academy is a whirlwind of meeting teachers, racing from one floor to the next against the clock, and making sure you never lose track of Shinx in the chaos of it all, but when the last bell finally rings, you feel no sting of regret about coming here. 

You split a sandwich with Shinx underneath a tree in the school courtyard, brain buzzing with the overload of information absorbed throughout the day. Maybe signing up for a full schedule of classes was a bit excessive, but unlike most of your fellow students who have some semblance of a plan for their futures your next steps are plagued with uncertainty. There are so many paths one can take with their Pokémon—the course of a Trainer, a Coordinator, a Professor, a Ranger, the list goes on and on—you don’t know which direction to take.

When you lock eyes with a boy with brown eyes across the yard, there’s nothing special about the moment. No sparks, no forgetting how to breathe. He’s just a boy with a Pikachu on his shoulder and a dimpled grin on his face.

“I saw you in Mr. Jacq’s class,” he says in lieu of a greeting when he draws closer, purple Academy tie loose and crooked around his neck. Recognition stirs in the back of your mind, a flash of dark brown curls towards the back of the room spotted before taking your seat at the front. 

Actually, now that you think about it…

“Weren’t you in Ms. Dendra’s class too?” you wonder, passing the last bite of sandwich to Shinx, his little body wiggling eagerly. “And Ms. Raifort’s…?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I don’t really know what I want to do yet.” He scuffs at the ground with his shoe, grin turning a bit crooked at the corner, strangely endearing in its awkwardness. “I figure life’s short, you know? Why not try as many things as you can when you have the chance?”

“Right,” you agree, finding yourself smiling back. “Nothing wrong with making memories.”

"I'm Frankie, by the way."

“Nice to meet you Frankie,” you say, shaking his hand. It’s warm in your grip, firm and secure, thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

And so it starts after that—the counting of days. Days when you see him in class, when he smiles at you, when he does homework with you in the library, when he and Pikachu have a battle against you and Shinx–winner buys lunch. It’s a subconscious quirk you keep to yourself. Even after he’s gone, chasing after legends to the far corners of the earth, you still continue counting days.

Days when he crosses your mind. Days when you leave the door unlocked in case he stops by. Days when you swear you catch a whiff of his citrus shampoo on the pillowcase despite the impossibility of it.

There’s not a single day in a whole year that isn’t bookmarked by a memory of him. And you, you remember all of them.

Day 183

“I want my name in one of these books,” he tells you, Ms. Raifort’s assigned reading on the lost explorers of Area Zero spread out in front of him.

You look up from the text, fatalities and disaster and other sharp words with teeth still swimming in your head. “It won’t be easy.”

You’ve only known him six months—long enough to be certain you’ll never meet anyone else like him, but too short to realize the hidden depths of his stubborn ambition.

“No,” he agrees, mouth curling up at the corner, “but it’ll be one hell of a story.”

Day 8

The air is heavy with the sharp, pungent scent of ozone as thunder rumbles overhead. You take in the ominous black clouds, adjusting the hood of your yellow coat to better defend your hair against the pattering raindrops. Doesn’t do much to ward off the chill of the wind though.

Shinx is darting about the meadow in zigzagging lines, wet to the bone and having a blast. Pikachu follows at his heels, electricity sparking from the red circles of her cheeks before fizzling out harmlessly. If there’s any rules to this game they’re playing, you haven’t a clue. Still, their obvious excitement over the weather has you smiling despite the numbness of your toes in soggy shoes.

To your left, Frankie watches the pair of Pokémon nimbly leap over a puddle, studying their graceful movements. His dark hair is flattened against his head, curls beaten into submission, but there’s something in his eyes, a sort of wistfulness that snags your attention like a moth to a flame. 

A bolt of lightning burns a gleaming white strip across the gloomy sky, halting Shinx and Pikachu’s play as they elicit squeaks of awe, but you can’t stop looking at Frankie. He’s grinning now, a wide and ecstatic thing with his head tipped back, rain streaming down his face.

“Amazing, isn’t it? Seeing one of nature’s tantrums,” he says, voice low and wonderstruck. “My mother always said it takes someone extra special to train those who can summon such raw, uncontrollable power on cue.”

You’ve never thought of yourself as someone unusual or remarkable. Looking at him though, soaked and shivering and absolutely beaming, you think if anyone’s extra special in this world it’s him.

Day 1,987

It’s a long time before you can look through photos of him without a wound violently tearing open in your chest. Longer still before you can hear his voice on the phone. He calls more often these days, mostly because you’re knee-deep in another mystery and only a little because he misses you, and that’s okay. You can smile at his jokes and it feels real. You can love him and know better than to be in love with him.

You stay busy. You photograph every inch of the nature park on Florio, even convince Professor Mirror to let you take the NEO-ONE to some of Lental’s other islands for further research. You spend hours clicking through photos on your computer, frowning at blurry ones, printing some out for the Professor to take a closer look at as well as a few for your own personal collection of albums. 

Your coworker isn’t an intimidating figure by any means, but something about watching him study and scrutinize your pictures never fails to make your hands shake and feet shuffle. Even after all these months, practically living inside each other’s pockets at the Laboratory of Ecology and Natural Sciences (or L.E.N.S. as the Professor affectionately calls it), studying the Illumina phenomenon and all its effects, there’s a part of you still terrified it could all come crashing down.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Professor Mirror tells you, glaring disapprovingly over the frames of his glasses. It’s not the first time you’ve heard that remark and it won’t be the last either. 

“More analyzing the photos and less analyzing me please,” you reply, nodding your head at the small stack in his hands.

He grumbles under his breath, but resumes evaluating the latest shots of your walk along Blushing Beach. There are Wingulls performing loops in the air, an Exeggutor snoozing beneath a palm tree, the splashings of a pair of Corsola playing in the waves. Luxray looking at the contents of a tide pool. A Pikachu eating a fluffruit after you’d scared her by your loud gasp, mistaking her for another of her kind. You don’t mention that tidbit to your coworker though.

That should be the last one, except then Professor Mirror’s letting out a surprised little hum, holding up a photo you never intended anyone else to ever see. Not even the subject. Especially not the subject.

It’s from your sophomore year at Uva Academy. You would call the picture ugly, edges a bit hazy due to your unsteady hands, still learning the tips and tricks of photography, except it’s Frankie. And he’s looking at you behind the lens with a fondness so sweet it makes your teeth hurt, holding a newly evolved Luxio to his chest, with windswept curls your fingers will always long to tame. 

You should’ve thrown it out a long time ago. The man in the photo isn’t the same man who will call you later tonight from half a world away just to ask how your day went and if you’re willing to admit you need his help with the Illumina project. But you’ve always been too sentimental for your own good, holding onto things until there are only scraps left, slipping through the gaps of your fingers. 

At the very least, you shouldn’t have reorganized your albums so close to your work station.

After what feels like the longest stretch of silence of your life, Professor Mirror finally says, carefully neutral as if wary of provoking a negative reaction, “Someone special, I presume?”

“It’s complicated,” is all you offer in response, snatching the picture back and telling yourself the ache behind your ribcage is a side effect of a papercut.

Day 389

Uva Academy teaches you battle strategies, the effects of Berries and how to better understand your Pokémon amongst other vital lessons to prepare students for a career outside the ancient brick walls and dorm rooms. 

It’s Frankie who teaches you how to find beauty in thunderstorms, how to enjoy each day like it’s your last, how to dream a little bit bigger, a little bit bolder—or maybe that’s something you teach each other. 

On the weekends you head into the city center together, trying different eateries and watching fellow students challenge each other on the plaza battle court. Afterwards you’ll walk along the cobblestone streets side by side, sometimes discussing classwork or pointing out items in shop windows, but usually the time is spent in companionable silence. Just sharing the same space.

You buy your first camera acting on pure impulse, drawn to it inexplicably and handing over money to the salesman in a matter of minutes. It fits in the palm of your hand, heavy and solid, buttons and knobs staring back at you, waiting to be pressed and manipulated. For the first ten or so minutes of ownership, you simply hold onto the device, studying its shape, its lens, fingertips running over the bumps and grooves.

“Well?” Frankie prompts, gentle voice breaking the silence, brown eyes flicking between your face and the camera. Pikachu echoes the question with a tiny pika?, sensing the fragility of the moment. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you answer, shoulders curling with self-consciousness. At your feet, Shinx sits on your shoe and rubs his cheek against your leg comfortingly.

“Well,” he hums, a teasing smile growing on his lips as he presses a button. “Maybe start with turning it on first.”

“Shut up.” You swat at him, but there’s no real heat. “I meant, I don’t know what to take a photo of.”

“It doesn’t matter what the sight is,” Frankie tells you, grabbing hold of your hands and raising them up until the camera’s in front of your face. He steps back and you peek at him through the viewfinder, watching as he spreads his arms out wide with Pikachu still happily perched on his shoulder. “What’s important is how it makes you feel.”

You take a breath, taking a moment to hold the shutter button until it focuses, and then take the photo. No count down, no say cheese!—you simply heed his advice, focusing on how it makes you feel.

The preview screen asks if you’d like to keep the picture or delete it. Your thumb hovers over the buttons.

Focused on the way Frankie’s hair has a golden aura in the light, how Pikachu’s nose scrunches when she’s grinning, you nearly jump out of your skin when he’s suddenly at your side again, wondering, “What do I make you feel, shutterbug?”

Like I’m falling and flying at the same time, you think, quick and startling. A bolt of lightning amongst storm clouds.

You press save.

“Like spending a hundred bucks wasn’t a total mistake.”

Day 448

You take a seat in the cafeteria across from Yovanna and her Sylveon. You’re lucky she shares the same lunch hour as you. Even more lucky she likes you enough to also share her space. Her knack for securing a table each day despite the scrambling rush of hungry students is a gift from the gods. Or maybe it’s a perk of being the president of the Academy’s student council.

“You haven’t stopped smiling for days.” She points with her fork at your grin, a giddy, bubbly thing not even Ms. Tyme’s pop quiz last period could stifle. “Spill it. Who’re you crushing on? Is he a student here? You got a picture?”

“Not with me.” It’s a lie, ever since you bought your camera it’s been glued to your person and there’s always at least one picture of him stored within the device’s gallery of Luxio shots and library aesthetic and other things that make you happy. “He is a student here though.”

Yovanna drops her fork onto her plate, jostling the pieces of fruit waiting to be eaten. Sylveon catches a flying strawberry midair by jumping in her seat and landing neatly on four paws like it’s a regular trick to perform. “Shut up. It’s him, isn’t it?”

You feed Luxio a pickle off your sandwich, neither confirming nor denying.

But your grin does get a little bit impossibly wider.

“Aw man, I owe Santi twenty bucks now.”

Your eyes narrow shrewdly. “Did you seriously make a bet?”

“You two are joined at the hip, of course I did.” Yovanna leans back in her chair, arms behind her head, not a single hint of shame for her actions. “Santi said you’d realize you had feelings for him before winter break. I thought it’d take you until the end of the semester ‘cause you’ve got the self-awareness of a piece of concrete most days.”

“Rude.” She dodges the crumpled napkin you toss at her with a laugh.

“Hey, this is a good development. Now you just gotta keep the momentum going and tell him how you feel. You’re perfect for each other.”

Tucking back into her meal, she misses the brief slip in your smile.

“Yeah.”

Day 8

Ms. Dendra is the only teacher without a classroom, preferring to use the battlefield in the middle of the courtyard for her lessons rather than a whiteboard. She weaves along the line of students with her Medicham, offering suggestions and correcting forms to make the most out of their Pokémons’ moves. You keep one eye on her drawing steadily closer and one on Shinx pawing at the ground, charging up electricity in his forelegs. He still hasn’t mastered thunder shock yet, maybe Ms. Dendra can–

“Storm’s coming tonight,” a voice drawls behind you, a curious blend of casual and enthusiastic.

You turn around, finding Frankie standing there looking up at the sky. The dark gray clouds do seem indicative of bad weather, now that he’s mentioned it. Rain is definitely on its way. 

And then he asks, a little sudden, “You ever seen one up close?”

A strange question. Still, you think about it, searching your childhood. All you remember are memories of cowering under the blankets in your bed and playing in puddles the next morning when the monstrous rumbling and harsh flashes had long passed. You’ve seen rain up close, felt the drops on your skin, inhaled the scent of petrichor deep into your lungs. But storms? 

“No,” you shake your head, shivering as the temperature seems to drop. “Never.”

He hums, a bland note that could mean anything. At your feet, Shinx and Pikachu sit and stare at each other, little sparks of blue and yellow static crackling in the air between them like morse code. 

“No wonder you’re having trouble with your partner. Can’t teach him about electricity when you’ve never seen it in action.”

“That’s not how training works,” you retort defensively. “Also storms aren’t exactly harmless, in case you forgot. They’re loud and dangerous and—”

“Beautiful,” Frankie cuts in with such firm conviction you reel back in surprise. “Absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful.” A pause follows, and you hate the smirk that grows on his face, how it taunts you, how it makes his eyes glitter with mischief. “Or maybe not. I could be lying. Only one way to find out for sure.” 

A raindrop lands on your cheek. Then another on your arm. And another on your nose. It’s pouring now. Students are complaining about their lesson being interrupted and Ms. Dendra’s shouting for everyone to head back inside. Through it all your eyes remain locked in an intense staring match, neither one willing to surrender.

“Fine,” you reply with a sharp jerk of your chin. “Show me.”

Day 1,448

Your internship with Professor Oak is—good. It’s the start of a brand new chapter in your life, except the last chapter ended on a terrible note and the upcoming pages are terrifyingly blank if you fail to impress your new boss, so. Yeah.

You get along with the Professor’s other intern, a local boy named Will. He teaches you how to drive the ZERO-ONE around the sanctuary. You spend hours out on the trails, memorizing everything about the wild Pokémon who call the island home. You enjoy the assignments Professor Oak gives you, staying busy, filling up albums with photos and journals with research notes. 

But when it’s quiet, when you’re staring up at the ceiling waiting for sleep to come…you’ve never felt more lonely in your life. Even with Luxray within reach, loyal and constant, there’s a persistent ache you can’t shake. A loose thread dangling in your mind, tormenting you, and you know if you were to tug on it exactly where it would lead.

Everything leads back to him.

Frankie hasn’t tried to call you. Hasn’t had any contact with you since graduation. Not even a postcard from whatever corner of the world he’s trying to accomplish his dreams. 

You haven’t tried to call him either. And yes, it’s true communication is a two-way street, but he’s the one who left and took your heart with him. Why should you give him more of yourself? You hate yourself for even contemplating picking up the phone.

You hate yourself even more for wondering what your relationship would’ve been like if you’d gone with him. If it’d hurt less to just have stayed friends. If you’d been better off never knowing him at all. If, if, if…

Day 485

The problem is, you think your feelings for Frankie are just a little bit stronger than a crush. You’re pretty sure you’re in love with him. Or at least halfway there. 

As much as you hate to admit it, Yovanna wasn’t wrong saying you have the self-awareness of a piece of cement. You don’t know for certain if the fluttery Butterfree sensation in your stomach or galloping heartbeat whenever Frankie smiles at you is love. But you are certain he’s gotten under your skin, triggering as many irritations as he is encouraging new ways of growth. You’re a better person, you think, simply by knowing him.

You also think it’s actually kind of scary to imagine something so strong and life-transforming could be anything else but love. Regardless, you hope it stays with you forever. This precious, nameless thing.

It won’t be until many days later—until you know what it’s like to kiss him, and hold his face between your palms, the heat of his breath tingling against your skin; until he’s fluent in myths and legends and fables, swearing he’ll be the one to make them truths and facts and verities; until you can’t picture a future without him in it, not a happy one, at least—you’ll realize you do love him. And he loves you, too, as it turns out.

But nothing lasts forever. Someone’s always got to be the first to let go. 

Day 1,375

You receive an offer for an internship with Professor Oak in Pallet Town to help him complete his Pokémon Report by taking photos on a nearby island sanctuary. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime to work with such an esteemed researcher, but thinking about graduation creeping up, about leaving behind this realm of familiarity now that you’ve learned everything Uva Academy has to teach, it’s—moving forward is harder than you anticipate.

It doesn’t help that Frankie's becoming more and more restless, unable to stand still as if it physically pains him to do so. No matter how many walks around the city, how many storms chased after, he’s always looking out towards the horizon, aura so thick with discontentment it’s as if he’s physically cloaked in it. 

Lately the only moments he seems to settle within his own skin are when he’s talking with Ms. Raifort, discussing ancient prophecies and ruins scattered around the globe. You don’t understand it, his passionate fascination–no, obsession with mythology. Why not let sleeping dogs lie? 

Frankie won’t talk to you about the future, evading the topic like a cunning Nickit. Still you cling to his hand, to hope, to the belief love conquers all, until the morning of graduation he comes to your dorm room and stares over your shoulder rather than meet your gaze. Even Pikachu hides her face in his curls, ears lowered despondently.

You let him in, the beginnings of dread stirring in your stomach, sensing whatever he’s got to say will have irreparable consequences.

“Did you have breakfast yet?” You gesture towards the kitchen, an unspoken can this wait? laced within the question.

“Not feeling very hungry today,” he answers, glancing about the room aimlessly. No, it can’t.

“That’s a first.” You take a seat on the sofa next to Luxray, grounding yourself by stroking a hand along his back. “You gonna tell me what’s on your mind or are you gonna make me guess?”

At that, Frankie finally turns to you, and his torn expression fractures something delicate inside of you, coldness flooding your lungs.

“I’ve been thinking. About us.”

“What about us?”

“I love you.” There’s no sweetness to the words. No tenderness. They are words of blood, of pain, scraping against his throat on their way out. “I’ve loved you from day one and I’ll love you ten thousand more. But what I want, what you want—it’s not the same thing. And it’s only going to hurt the longer we keep pretending otherwise.”

“Stop, please don’t—” your voice cracks, the cold gripping your heart now. Please don’t say it. Please don’t do this. “We’re—we’re good together. You know we are.”

“We were,” he amends, voice so unbearably gentle it’s a jagged blade against your soul. “We were so good. But we’re not ready for what comes next. We’ve become thunder and lightning, one ahead of the other. Our timing is off, shutterbug.”

Day 765

It’s drizzling a little when you return to campus. You shiver in your wet dress, grimacing as you accidentally step in a puddle, thoroughly soaking your flats and bare feet. Hopefully you won’t slip on the stairs and break your neck. That’d be the cherry on top of this disappointing evening.

You just want to shower, put on your comfiest pajamas, and fall asleep as fast as possible. 

Except when you reach your floor there’s a figure curled up on the floor outside your door, fast asleep with a snoring Pikachu curled on his chest.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” You nudge at Frankie’s knee with your wet shoe, raising an eyebrow at him as he jerks awake, blinking rapidly. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, you’re back,” he says through a yawn, stretching his arms over his head. Pikachu grunts, displeased at the movement and sounds, and stubbornly curls into a tighter ball, forcing him to cradle her in the nook of his arm as he stands up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I just–I wanted to make sure you got back from your date okay. How did it go?”

Your date, Tom, is in Mr. Hassel’s art class with you. He invited you to see a new photography exhibit at the city’s museum. He was nice, if a little overzealous, and seeing lovely displays of art  seemed like a better way to spend the evening instead of once again hopelessly pining over your best friend. So, you’d said yes, changed into a nice dress, and swore off any and all yearning.

Except that’s exactly what you ended up doing anyways. 

Every time a photo left you breathless, you’d instinctively turn to look for brown eyes that weren’t there. Every joke Tom made you’d compare it to one of Frankie’s. Throughout the entire evening, you couldn’t stop your thoughts drifting back towards the Academy, wondering what he was doing.

You weren’t surprised Tom cut the date short, correctly sensing your heart just wasn’t into it. Still stung a bit though watching him leave you behind to join up with some other classmates hanging out in the plaza.

“Poorly,” you answer with a slight grimace.

“Oh.” Frankie blinks, looking at a loss for additional words. He’s wearing the hoodie he got from his trip to Montenevera over the holiday break and sweatpants, warm and rumpled and cozy, a complete contrast to your entire wardrobe. “Did he–did he hurt you? Because if he did anything inappropriate, I swear–”

“What? No, no, nothing like that happened.” You shake your head, ignoring the flutter of your heartbeat, touched at his protectiveness. He’s still staring at you, and you know he’s not going to let this slide under the rug. “Relax, tough guy. Tom was fine. I was the problem.”

“Tauros shit,” he immediately rejects the notion. “You could never be a problem.”

The hallway feels too hot all of the sudden despite the icy raindrops still clinging to your skin. “That’s sweet,” you say, trying to flash a grin except the muscles in your face refuse to cooperate. It feels stiff. Forced. “You say that to all the girls?”

His mouth tugs upwards into a smile, dimpled and boyish. “Once or twice,” he says, “but I only mean it with you.”

It’s dangerous and stupid to get your hopes up, but there’s something about the quietness, something about his brown eyes and his nearness, that makes you take a leap of faith. Makes you think screw it and reach for his free hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I was the problem,” you tell him softly, watching his expression sober, “because I kept looking for you.”

Silence follows, interrupted by a quiet snore from Pikachu. 

Then, just as softly, Frankie says for a second time, “Oh.”

You swallow, feeling like you can’t breathe. “Yeah.”

“Silly girl, you didn’t need to look.” He squeezes your hand, leans in just enough to bump his nose against yours. “I’ve always been here.”

Day 1,375

Later, you won’t remember the particulars of how the rest of the conversation played out. There are words, so many words. Angry and inconsolable, spat out through clenched teeth and pleaded with numb lips. Tears, too. So many damn tears it’s a wonder you don’t drown yourself.

You will remember how he looks at you though. Brown eyes deep and golden, reflecting the morning light streaming through the window. He’s beautiful, and you think that’s the final straw of it all, the definitive proof that even as he’s ripping out your heart you will never feel anything less for him than love. 

No passage of time or miles of distance will ever change that. You know this like you know the sun will rise tomorrow, and the next day, and the one after that. 

Still, this certainty doesn’t stitch up the gaping, bleeding hole in your sternum.

No, that self-healing won’t begin until many, many days later.

Day 610 

In another life, if you hadn’t discovered your love of photography, you think you would have been a great astronomer. You know each of the constellations’ names, the best times during the year to spot them, even the tales assigned to them.

Tonight, the night sky is full of stars in every direction you look, not even the distant city lights strong enough to overpower their shine. You lie on your back in the soft meadow grass, hands resting on your stomach, the scent of wildflowers as thick in the air as the fireflies Luxio and Pikachu chase after. To your left, he mimics your pose, except he’s got an arm pillowed under his head, silent except for his breathing.

“There’s Kingler, cursed to hold up his heavy claw for eternity,” you say eventually, raising a hand to trace the starry outline with your fingertip. “Cubone’s next to him, forever mourning his mother.”

He remains silent. You turn your head to look at him, discovering he is deeply absorbed in his thoughts. Physically, you could easily reach out for his hand, but the blankness in his eyes suggests internally he’s half a world away. Somewhere you can’t follow. An irrational spark of jealousy burns hot in your veins, upset your presence isn’t enough of an anchor to keep him locked in the present moment.

You emit a quiet sigh, mentally rolling your eyes at your own childishness, and start to turn back to the sky when his voice catches you off guard, asking, “You ever notice they’re all tragedies?”

“Huh?”

“The myths behind the constellations.” He looks at you then, eyes dim with an emotion you can’t recognize. “Can you name one with a happy ending?”

You think about Pinsir, exiled due to his uncontrollable rage; Koffing, releasing toxic gases as he dies; Dugtrio, punished by an angry Groudon for gouging too many holes in the earth. The list grows longer, the tales grow sadder.

“No,” you say at last. “I guess not.”

He shrugs a shoulder, like it’s nothing, like his next words aren’t going to hurt something fierce. “That’s because happy endings are the biggest myth of all.”

Day 1,375

He kisses you. It is perfect and excruciating all at once. His hand is cupping your cheek, and his touch is so tender and intimately familiar you can’t stop yourself from indulging and it’s cruel of him to leave you like this. Shattered and wanting. Falling and flying.

But when Frankie’s right, he’s right.

This split in your paths has been a long time coming. You’d just refused to read the writing on the wall, content to keep counting the days, pretending the number would stretch on into infinity.

Infinity is just another word for forever though.

And there’s truth in that old saying: when you love someone—

“I love you,” he says again at the door. His eyes drift over your face, as if memorizing every detail. “And I’m proud of you. Remember that.” There’s the briefest of glimpses of tears in his eyes before he’s wrapping you in a hug, so tight your ribs painfully protest. You savor every second of it. “This isn’t the last of us. We’ll meet again, I swear it. One day, shutterbug.”

—you let them go.

Day 1,669

You’ve been dreading his arrival, dreading how he might look at you. What might be different. What, if anything, might be the same. 

All communication thus far has been directly with Professor Oak. You haven’t heard a single peep even though your number’s stayed the same. Even though you know he knows you’re here. 

Luxray stays close as the hour draws closer, trying to soothe your nervous energy. You stroke his mane, eyes flicking between your computer, the window, and then back again. The cursor blinks on the screen, waiting for you to finish adding the last details to the report you’ve been developing on the Pokémon signs you and Will discovered. Bizarre occurrences where the environment manifests the likeness of specific Pokémon—always the same ones in the same places. But why they existed and what they meant remained unsolved mysteries robbing you of sleep.

It had been the Professor's idea to invite another set of eyes to examine the clues after months of no solid progress. For every one step made forward it felt like the universe would shove you five steps backwards, the hidden connection remaining just out of your reach.

If you had known Professor Oak and Ms. Raifort were old friends, that she would’ve recommended her favorite pupil…well, you’re not sure if anything would’ve really changed. What fate wants, fate gets one way or another.

Frankie arrives at eventide, bringing the warmth of the fading sun into the lab with him. He looks…unchanged. Maybe a little broader, thicker with muscle from his journeys. But still familiar in all the ways that matter. You wonder if the same can be said for yourself. 

He’s looking at you, and it’s—it’s less painful than you expected. No tight band wrapped around your middle, no spontaneous bursting of tears. He’s just a man with a Pikachu on his shoulder and a dimpled grin on his face.

“Hey shutterbug,” he says, and it feels abruptly like slow motion, like you’re watching through someone else’s eyes as he comes closer, closer, closer and pulls you into a tight embrace. His arms are just as strong as you remember them, memories of graduation screaming in the back of your mind and you’re in your dorm room again watching him walk out of your life with your heart in tow.

You want to…

(kiss him, hit him, hold him, scream at him)

You want too many things.

“Hey,” you echo lamely as he pulls back. If Frankie hears the faintest of quivers in your voice, he thankfully doesn’t show a sign of it. You shoot a small grin at Pikachu, mouth stretching wider when she returns it with a cheerful pika pi, waving her paw. “Ready to help solve a mystery?”

“I always wanted to make history.” He’s smirking that same damn smirk, an intense pang of nostalgia striking you. Your fingers twitch, wishing you had your camera. “But I think it’s better this way, yeah?”

“What way?”

Distantly, you’re aware of Professor Oak and Will watching the conversation ping-ponging back and forth, both smart enough to pick up on the unspoken something between you and Frankie. 

“Making history together,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “We make a good team, you and I.”

The words bounce around inside your head for a moment. A good team. Is that all we are? is what you want to ask, but the answer’s a double-edged sword shoved between your ribs no matter how he phrases it. 

So you swallow the question down and bury it. 

“C’mon,” you gesture towards your computer, “I’ll show you what we’ve got so far.”

Day 128

Winter sweeps in, all frigid winds and frosted windows. Together you stay at the Academy during the holiday break. It’s days of no homework, snowball fights, and parka coats. Nights spent by the fireplace, hot chocolates topped with whipped cream, wishing you could bottle these memories in a jar and keep them on a shelf.

If Frankie knew about it, he would say Jirachi heard your wish, but it’s your opinion that fate’s just got a funny sense of humor. Either way, a few years down the line you’ll have the collection of memories you desired, almost all of them starring him. They won’t be kept in fragile jars, but in captured photographs unaffected by the withering flow of time. Little glimpses of a happy life, and how much you've lost.

Day 2,000 

You kiss Frankie on the front deck of the L.E.N.S. the night before he’s scheduled to leave. It’s stupid and impulsive, but he’s just right there in front of you, bathed in starlight and high off the elation that comes with solving another Pokémon mystery, further securing his place amongst the pages of historic exploration, a legend in his own lifetime, and there’s no thoughts in your head so—you kiss him. 

It isn’t your first kiss, but it feels like something new. He’s got stubble now, you’re wearing a lab coat—little details of proof you’re far from the kids you used to be. He smells the same though, like coffee and evergreens and fresh rain. The quiet, awed exhale of your name, like you’re something wonderful, something mythical come true, is the same too. 

And for the briefest of moments, you can almost imagine you’re together again.

But in the end it’s just a kiss, not a time machine. 

Day 1,762

“For someone with a new career, you don’t look very excited,” Will says, knocking his shoulder against yours good-naturedly. You try to summon up a smile, but it isn’t fooling anyone.

Professor Oak’s treating you both to a fancy dinner at a restaurant you can’t pronounce the name of, celebrating the news of your new job as an official field research photographer working alongside Professor Mirror in Florio. It’s an amazing step forward, resulting from the success of the Rainbow Cloud discovery with Frankie, certain to give your name another added boost of recognition in the photography community. 

“I am,” you say, remembering how you’d nearly passed out when you received the offer. Another attempt at a grin yields better results. “It’s gonna be great.”

Will tilts his head, a knowing look in his eyes. “You’re thinking about him. Again.”

“Not intentionally.” Your lips curl into a rueful grimace, fingers twisting together in your lap. “He just…never leaves my thoughts.”

Frankie told you before he left he didn’t have a home, not anymore, too much of a restless spirit to stay in one place. You wonder if his answer would be different, if he knew it’s been 1,762 days and every one of them he’s spent occupying your head.

“Even when he’s gone and left you behind?” From anyone else, the question would’ve been harsh, but your friend’s eyes are kind, full of empathy. 

There’s a second where you contemplate lying, but you can’t. Not to him, and not to yourself.

“Especially then.”

Day 2,000

“Sorry.” It comes out of your mouth stilted—not because you don’t mean it, but because your heart’s beating like a thunderstorm. A wildness you haven’t felt in years.

“I’ve never needed an apology from you.” Frankie looks at you softly, the brown of his eyes getting lost in the dark. “Two thousand. Can you believe it? Seems like just yesterday I watched you walk into class.”

You forget sometimes that he’s the sentimental type too when it comes to those he cares about. It’s why he doesn’t give Pikachu a Thunderstone, and why he only knows how to play one song on a guitar, his mother’s favorite. How sweet it is, to learn he must care about you to keep count, maybe even love you a little bit still.

“Frankie,” you start, dropping your forehead onto his shoulder. His nearness is a comfort as much as it is a distraction, but this conversation is long overdue by hundreds of days. “What are we?”

“You tell me.” A hand comes to rest on your waist, a searing brand through the fabric of your clothes. “What do you want us to be?”

You think about the question for a long moment, wondering what words pack enough meaning to give the answer it deserves.

What you want is another storm to chase, another constellation to trace. What you want is for your hands to brush during walks, never having to hear his voice on the end of a phone again because he’s right there by your side. What you want is everything that once was to align in perfect harmony with the immediate now.

“I want us to be together.”

“We are.”

“No, we’re not,” you murmur, staring down at the mud stains on his boots. 

“Listen, shutterbug,” his hands move to your head, one tilting up your chin and the other gently palming your neck, forcing you to meet his gaze, “a lot can happen in two thousand days–”

“I know, I know.”

His fingers spasm, like he’s resisting the urge to tug on your hair, eyes sharpening at the interruption. “A lot can happen in two thousand days,” he repeats, and you hear it this time, the heavy weight in his tone. Rarely is he this serious. “We’ve changed, we’ve grown, we’ve been on opposite ends of the earth from each other. But tonight, of all places, I’m here and you’re here.”

And maybe it really is that simple. People say lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice, but twice now you’ve watched him go and twice he’s been brought back to you. 

You reach up, wrapping your hands around his wrists, holding him there. “Do you think we’ll ever be what we were?”

“No.” He steps impossibly closer, lips brushing against your forehead. “I think one day we’ll be better.”

Better, you mouth the word. It feels like a promise, like a turning point. 

“Yeah, one day,” you agree, heartbeat steadying, matching the rhythm of his beneath your fingertips. “It’ll be worth the wait.”

[hyunverse]

you're the only friends i need ♡⸝⸝ hyunjin, seungmin, felix

best friend!hyunjin, felix, seungmin && reader.

genre — fluff, drabble, platonic.

note — decided to make this a continuation of my oneshot, "midnight existential crisis." hope u don't mind anonnie!! if u want a redo then just lmk <3 idm, i love writing best friend!skz content. anyway, listen to ribs by lorde for ultimate feels.

laughters bounce off the apartment walls, smiles radiating as shiny as the night stars. you're so happy, yet you feel like you're going to cry. there's nothing as bittersweet as graduating.

"do you think they'll realize that 4 robes and caps are missing?" felix questions, gulping down his saliva.

in order to celebrate the four of you graduating from university, seungmin had suggested to flee from the ceremony while still wearing the robes and caps. he claimed that after paying thousands for the sake of education, the four of you deserve to at least steal the robes. hyunjin and you had always been the easily swayed type, so you had no problem going through with the plan. felix mentioned the guilt he would feel, how stealing is immoral — but he agreed, anyway. it's the power of peer pressure.

hyunjin pats his shoulder, "it's fine, lix. we'll return it tomorrow, okay? we'll say that we genuinely forgot."

“and lie? hell no,” felix defends, eyebrows cutely furrowed.

seungmin rolls his eyes. it’s constantly like this — convincing felix to do things that aren’t very. . . morally correct would take quite a while. it almost always works though.

“yongbok,” seungmin says, “guess what else is a lie? your life. you’re still living it though, so just calm down.”

upon seungmin’s remarks, felix lets out a huff. fighting with seungmin is like pouring water onto an umbrella — useless. the boy’s head is filled with comebacks.

you shake your head at their shenanigans, “let’s just take pictures.”

flashes fill the apartment, along with giggles. it’s all fun and games, basking in the company of each other. for the last few months the house hasn’t been full with noises — everyone too occupied with their own studies. for the first time in a while, everyone gets to be at the same place at the same time. you could feel the void in your heart getting full again at seungmin’s out of pocket comments, hyunjin’s enthusiastic claps and felix constantly hugging you.

before you know it, a carton of apple juice is being carried to your makeshift photo booth (which is just a white cloth being hung im your living room, and a tall wooden stool. hyunjin claims that it’s rustic and vintage, perfect for polaroids.)

“time for a toast, time for a toast!” felix exclaims, pouring the juice in shot glasses.

“seriously? apple juice? have we gone too broke to afford alcohol?” seungmin pipes.

you smack the back of his head, causing the graduation cap to fall off. the boy rubs his head, sending glares towards your way.

hyunjin clicks his tongue, “let’s not get drunk on graduation night, seungmo, i don’t want to forget such an important night.”

“okay go off i guess, hopeless romantic.”

hyunjin rolls his eyes and helps felix pass around the shot glasses.

“okay,” felix clears his throat, “who wants to start the toast?”

“me,” seungmin raises his hand, “cause if y/n or hyunjin starts, it’ll be sappy too early.”

the oldest boy scoffs, side-eyeing the youngest. it’s a surprise all of you survived three years of seungmin’s brutal remarks. it’s also a surprise that after all those words, none of you have grown immune to them. always caught off guard.

“just start your speech already!” an australian accent replies.

“okay fine,” the raven head gives in, “fuck university. shake ass, get that money!”

laughters erupt in the atmosphere, started by hyunjin’s wheezes.

the night goes on, chaos enveloping the four of you. what started with a playful pillow fight ended up with you and felix on the floor, wailing.

“it’s just,” felix sniffles — at this point, it seems like he’s drunk on apple juice — perhaps the placebo effect truly works, “no more university means childhood is over. we’re adults now. adults!”

seungmin’s eyebrows start to furrow. his pink lips part to say something about childhood ending the moment you graduated high school, but hyunjin’s elbow digging into his waist stops him.

you vigorously nod at felix’ word — it takes all of seungmin to not say anything, “you’re so right lix, it’s scary, isn’t it. we might have to pay taxes soon.”

“no! not taxes. that’s too grown up,” felix wails again.

once again, seungmin wants to say that they already pay service taxes everyday, and once again, hyunjin elbows him.

“oh my god. that means we won’t have to fight each other over who gets the bathroom first because we don’t have 8 in the morning classes anymore,” you sigh out in realization.

felix’ eyes couldn’t be wider.

“fuck. you’re telling me i won’t hear hyunjin’s hair dryer at seven fucking a.m anymore?”

behind the calm facade, both hyunjin and seungmin suddenly feel heavy. as if all that realization just dawned upon them — and it really did just click into hyunjin’s head. being an interior design major, he out of all people was the most eager to leave university. now, it doesn’t feel as sweet anymore — merely bittersweet, as bittersweet as the latte he’d drink every other night to survive in his course.

hyunjin holds back a gasp. seeing both you and felix break down is enough. he needed to be the strong one in that situation, so he sits and watches the two of you converse.

“i’m going to miss this phase so much,” you say between sniffles.

“yeah, me too,” hyunjin adds before placing a chaste kiss at the top of your head.

just like that, a crying session begins. at the end of the night, hyunjin has to carry you bridal - style, while felix practically begs seungmin to give him a piggy back ride (and makes seungmin promise to return the robes and caps the first thing in the morning.)

“god, god, god,” you mumble — a prayer.

yet, no matter how many times you stare at the numbers displayed on the online banking application, it won’t change. two digits (the first beginning with a one) stare back at you, mockingly. like you’re the biggest loser in the world. honestly? at the moment, you feel like you are.

“calm down y/n,” hyunjin comforts. his voice is softer than usual, like a lyrebird imitating the sound of love.

“i can’t,” you breathe out, tears pricking at the side of your eyes, “i’m officially broke. and jobless.”

your phone sounds a soft thud when you toss it onto the bed. the bed dips once you jump onto it, where hyunjin is waiting with open arms. his arms and chest are inviting — wide and warm, ready for you to bury your face into and cry. seungmin quietly sits beside you.

"you'll be okay," hyunjin comforts, pulling you into his arms, "things will turn out okay."

seungmin nods, large hand rubbing your back. you don't have any energy besides to sniffle and shake your head.

"it won't be okay," you cry out, "i've sent so many resumes but none of them emailed me back."

"and that's okay, y/n, we'll help you with that. seungmin will help you write more resumes, i'll design them and felix will be there to hug you everytime you're stressed. we're here for you, promise. just hold on."

seungmin excessively nods again, "yeah. jinnie's right."

you lift up your face to meet hyunjin's, eyes teary and nose all snotty, "it feels like i'm being too dependent on you guys."

hyunjin clicks his tongue, "not at all lovely, you've been so independent this whole year. sometimes we all need help."

a frown is plastered across seungmin's face the moment he spots more tears running across your face. using his sleeve, he wipes the tears. it doesn't matter that your eyes are constantly leaking water — he's willing to wipe the tears over and over again.

"i'm literally broke guys, seriously," your heart feels so heavy — it could burst, "i don't think i have enough money for next month's rent. i think i'll stay at my family's . . . maybe it's about time."

"no!" hyunjin slightly raises his voice in panic, "it's fine. stay. i have some money from work, seungmin does too. . . felix seem to have a stable job. we can more than support you for a couple months. "

it's your turn to say no.

"can't do that jinnie. . . don't have the heart to. you're freelancing, it's not always stable, seungmin's tutoring multiple kids a day just to get by, and felix works too hard for me to let him support me. i can't do that to you guys, it's wrong. but thank you, seriously."

"we really don't mind, y/n," seungmin speaks up, "it'll only be temporary anyway, at least until you're all set up. i don't mind tutoring extra people for you, and i know felix won't mind, he'd insist on helping out."

speak of the devil — felix walks into the bedroom. hair messy, and a pout plastered across his freckled face.

"lix?" hyunjin raises an eyebrow, "what's up?"

the question has felix' lips quivering, like he had been holding onto one straw the whole day. frankly speaking, he had been.

"fucked up so bad," felix mutters, plopping down on the bed beside your figure, "fucked up a cake and it was literally today's special."

you frown, "c'mere lix, it's okay."

"i don't feel like it's okay. feels like i'll lose my job after only a week."

"don't say that," hyunjin cooes, "you're an amazing baker. they won't dare to fire you."

felix merely shrugs, too tired to even function. the four of you end up staring at the ceiling. seungmin soothingly traces his pointer on your arm and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. it's his silent way of telling you that he cares.

"you okay, lix?" you quietly ask.

"yeah. you?"

"jobless and going broke, but i think i'll be fine."

"ah," felix sighs, "i'm here for you, okay?"

the duvet shuffles when felix turns his body to face you. you reciprocate, scrunching your nose when you feel his finger tap on it.

"you're not alone in this, you know? don't be scared to ask for help sometimes."

"thank you, lixie, really. i feel like i owe you guys so much."

hyunjin shakes his head, "nonsense. you're our best friend. we're always here for you."

seungmin nods in agreement, "if you don't want to accept us supporting you financially for a while, then perhaps you'd like to tutor as well? i know some kids who need help with the subjects you're good at."

your heart goes warm at their remarks, feeling nothing but grateful for your best friends. they're always there for you — for all the times you've leaped out of joy, the breakdowns after break ups, the grieving over a dead fictional character — they've been there for everything. you couldn't ask for better friends.

"thanks, guys."

taglist (send an ask to be added) — @zoe8stay

[small-angry-cat]

Just reread City of Heavenly Fire! I can’t believe it’s been 8 years since the last time I read it. I want to share some thoughts- but also, first, here are some of my favorite funny moments from the book:

(Major spoilers btw)

Sorry about the lopsidedness :(

Anyways, now onto a few of my thoughts:

Recently I saw a post that even though TMI, being Cassie’s first series was pretty poorly written (fair and valid), but it was still fun to read, to follow around Clary and her gang of impulsive friends and just enjoy the characters and world that the author had built. I completely agree, and this reread has especially helped solidify that. Sure, this isn’t ground-breaking, stunning writing. But it is enjoyable!! It’s characters you love and invested in. It’s a world you’ll like reading about and being immersed in! It can be really funny while still having scenes that are really gripping or heartbreaking. Of course there are minor flaws- the pacing is sometimes too slow or fast, and the huge ensemble of characters can make your head spin, but if you like this little group of 6, then the book is good. It’s really, REALLY fun to read. And the characters, despite being not always being the best-written characters she’s ever written- they’re still memorable, and I still love seeing them pop-up in other books- they’re lovable and memorable and just overall, kind of iconic.

Also, one more thing. I think Cassandra Clare has a such a unique style of writing endings. They have such a way of making you give a small sigh of relief, letting you think the big problem is solved, the conflict is over- only for there to be heart-wrenching drop when things don’t wrap up quite right, when you realize that things won’t be perfect yet, there’s still a long road ahead. And even though I knew they WOULD wrap up- I’ve read TDA and I know Helen and Mark get to go home, that Emma and Julian end up happy, that Simon will eventually be happy with his friends again- I was still crying when I read about Simon’s memories getting taken, and when I read the final Council meeting scene. She’s really good at creating that sort of bittersweet, open-ended-ness in her finales. But at the very end, the final epilogue still lets you close the book on a happy, peaceful note instead of a completely sad one. It’s a unique feel, and something that I can’t help but note.

Anyways, to wrap up!! CoHS was a good read! TMi is still fun to read :))) and I’m excited to reread the other books too!