#but maybe because i accepted the challenge then realized how many songs i needed

[thatmexisaurusrex]

URL Tag

Rules: Spell Your URL with song titles and tag as many people as there are letters.

I was tagged by @six2vii. Thank you for the tag 🥰 Lol to find two songs that start with "X" 🤣 Also, I hope discounting a "The" is okay for one lol

T - That's What I Want by Lil Nas X H - Heads Carolina, Tails California by Jo Dee Messina A - Aristocrats by Raleigh Ritchie T - This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody) by the Talking Heads M - money machine by 100 gecs E - Eo by Café Tacvba X - XS by Rina Sawayama I - I Want You by Tayla Parx S - Sunshine by Flight Facilities feat. Reggie Watts A - Altar by Kehlani U - Up On The Roof by the Drifters R - Roll With Me by Charlie XCX U - Ungodly Hour by Chloe x Halle S - Stuck by the Aces R - The Riptide by Beirut E - Everything He Needs by Carly Rae Jepsen X - xx by Hayley Kiyoko

Ooooh okay let's name 17 people if I can off the top of my head that haven't already been listed hopefully 😂 no pressure tags to: @logicheartsoul @sumbacky @exbex @jonkentt @funsized-loser @questinwitchface @runzu @staying-elive @jaguarsp0tted @wiccamoody @spinachgarden @sammysouffle @wilsonsb4be @bisamwilson @meidui @siancore @katatonicimpression and whoever else wants to give it a shot 😂

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as their natal charts: woozi

sun in sagittarius, moon in aries

he loves a good challenge, his straightforward and self-assured personality can make him come off as arrogant but he's not like that; this man won't accept anything but the truth, he's fearless and very generous to people he loves, enjoys solitude just as much as he loves big crowds (but not being the center of attention there)

'looks like it's gonna be hard,' you mutter, staring at bunch of documents in front of you. 'do you think you can-'

'i know i can,' jihoon interrupts, not even bothering to look up.

you nod. jihoon's curt answer may have irritated other people, but not you. after working together for almost half a year, you realized that these kind of replies from him are simple statements of facts, not just arrogant atempts of showing off. still, you ask: 'need any help?'

jihoon blinks, finally looking up from his laptop. no one really sticks around with him, always uncomfortable with his silence or too straightforward manners, so your question surprises him. you, in general, surprise him in many ways and part of him desperately wants to reach out, because he may or may not have written dozen songs about your eyes and how your smile makes his day better. 'um,' he lets out eloquently. 'only if you're okay with helping.'

you nod and he breathes out in relief, shutting his laptop. work is easier with you, huge pile of documents gets sorted out much faster with two pair of hands and jihoon nods in satisfaction as you finish the last one. 'thank you,' he says sincerely. you smile and your smile makes him feel... things. makes him want to get upclose and personal with this smile, maybe even be the reason behind it. he's not dumb, he knows there might not be any other chance, so he barrels on: 'do you have plans for tonight?'

jihoon is certainly not the one to beat around the bush, but you're still surprised, looking up at him. 'you're asking because..?'

'i heard new thai place opened around here, thought it'd be good to try it out,' he meets your gaze, looking serious and confident. 'i'd like to treat you, if you're free.' and then, because if he started he has to go until the end, giving all in, he adds to clear things up: 'it's a date.'

silence that stretches makes him nervous, but when smile blossoms on your face and your cheeks color just a tiny bit, he thinks that risks always are worth taking in the end. smile stretches his own lips and he mirrors your excitement: 'i'll take that smile for a 'yes' then?'

he doesn't tell you that he heard you talking about really wanting to try out that place and nor does he tell you that he already went there and tried out bunch of dishes, just so he would know what to order when he'll finally get the courage to ask you out. you nod at him and something else twirls inside of his chest, warming it up. something akin to hope, that he thinks will turn out just great.

in relationship he can sometimes be insensitive and have a temper, but willl ultimately be the most protective partner ever! he longs for domesticity and is very much 'i don't see anyone but you' type when he's in love, he needs someone who's good at avoiding conflicts and can sometimes push him to change

'jihoon, that was too rude,' you say, closing the door with a loud sigh.

'he had his hands all over you,' jihoon huffs, shaking his coat off angrily. he doesn't get jealous easily and rarely has problems with other people, but his protective instincts flare up whenever someone gets too familiar with you. 'and you looked anxious, you know i can't just stay still at times like that.'

'i thought you didn't see,' you mumble quietly enough but of course jihoon catches it.

he grabs your hand, pulling you closer to him. 'i'm always looking at you,' he says seriously, not understanding how your heart flutters at those words. 'babe, i- i'm looking only at you. even when we are surrounded by other people, my eyes are always on you.'

and it's the truth. he keeps his eyes on you not in some creepy way, but just looking at you grounds him, he checks on you cause need to make sure you're fine is exactly what it is - a need. you smile at him, but still don't let go of the situation, telling him that he took everything too far. jihoon nods, knows that you're right, but he also knows that you won't ever nag him about it. this is the best thing about you, how you let something not critical go, knowing him too well. 'that was probably too rude, okay. you know i won't go and apologize to him, he did make you uncomfortable and i won't stand for that, ever.'

you sigh fondly, reaching out to caress his cheek softly. 'i know,' you say. 'my protector.' you didn't say it in a mocking way and jihoon knows it. he really is your protector in the sweetest and purest way; someone who you always wanted and never thought you'd have.

'i'll always protect you,' he says matter-or-factly with no traces of joke in his voice. but then his face changes as he shyly suggests: 'let's drink some tea?'

you almost laugh at this, but hold back. nodding, you lean in, smiling when he pecks your lips and both of your cheeks lovingly. never have you ever thought that jihoon will be like this, this protective and this caring at the same time. 'let's,' you agree easily.

you drop the conflict before it could grow big, because it's not worth it. nothing is really worth it at the face of jihoon's wide smile as he understands that the subject is dropped and that you're not angry at him anymore. sometimes words are not needed and silent understanding that passes between you two is more important. he hugs you tight and that's all that's needed as you both settle into comfortable domesticity, the one you both protect fiercely and put above everything else.

a/n: a bit surprising for jihoon i think, but i love his chart so much!!

my masterlist is here

taglist @prpldahy

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

the fog

alright fine I'm here again

spun myself into such a cycle that I created opaque clouds

nothing makes any sense

another man on his knees telling me

he's sorry for treating me like everyone else who hurt him

another me who doesn't realize

what the fuck I'm always doing wrong

why I'm so filled with resentment

why I can't finish anything

why no matter how many questions I ask

clarity is just something no one can give me

it's my fault somehow

I just have to fix the leak somehow

find the leak somehow

people talk about solid foundations

as if they are just given out

"build a solid foundation of support"

okay cool like that exisits

maybe it does I just wasn't meant to find it yet

I'll find it when my frequency matches I guess

I'm so tired of the tests and trials and challenges

tired of wishing the universe was just done with me

it can't be that fun to play with a broken doll

can't you go find a new one

isn't that what you used to do anyways

I didn't realize how many demons I was summoning

I work so hard to stay focused and mine some dopamine

in all the ways I used to

it used to work and now nothing does

they all laugh at me and tell me that once again

I'm going to fail another project I told everyone

I was going to get done

and I can't focus because once again

everything is too much

I'm not being a good mother

I'm not a wife except in legal name

I'm not a friend

I'm just here

and trying

but it never works out

and I'm so angry and frustrated and I

have always been doing everything

by myself and I can get everything done

for everyone else but not the things

I self sabotage and I thought I fixed this

I'm pre-embarrassed because there's a

lack of integrity in saying I'm going to climb to heaven

and all the ladders end up on fire

and my hands are burning

and I'm coughing due to the smoke

and my hands melting off

but I keep going and I keep going

everyone scolds me for having blisters

and then remarks on my lack of experience

I'm trying and I'm learning and nothing ends up...

working or finishing or happening

I don't understand how to connect

people connect with me and are inspired by me

but I'm just behind glass

it's cold and I watch their affection

hit the plane and bounce off away from me

I made my own warmth

take another bath

sing another song

do another meditiation

watch another video

meet another need or domestic task

repeat the process because it all just drains me

this feels so humilitating

if I can write about it why can't I fix it

maybe I'm just sad I can't focus

on what I decided to focus on

I get focused and then someone needs me

and I lose everything I had lit up in my head

it's so fucking frustrating

and the war outside my spaceship has

left me with low shields

that's somehow my fault too

maybe I'll wake happier tomorrow

and things will click into place

it feels a little hopeless now

those are normal human emotions

it's okay to struggle and feel uncomfrotable

life has kind of taught me that never changes

but everything is possible in the hyperpresent

I don't know what I'm doing wrong

why don't I have more self-discipline

or strength or determination

I learned everything I could about all of them

okay that's fine I'll just keep

walking blindly forward into whatever mess

I make of something else

my son told me last night that he was

used to the fighting

and what I'd essentially taught him

about love relationships was that you needed

to accept people were going to be mean to you

and get stronger so it didn't bother you

and I said, holding back a sob

"it's not supposed to be like that

with someone you choose to love"

I failed as a model for healthy relationships

I chose wrong and I let myself be disabled by it

I'll figure it out and I'll change it

I'll finish this stupid book called Sisyphus

I'll get a job and I'll get a new place

and I'll show them who I am again

but tonight I'm going to let myself

feel sorry for myself so myself doesn't have to

feel so alone and hopeless by myself

poor dumb creature and her trusting heart

pretending to be a badass on the internet

so she doesn't have to face

what she let her reality become

I don't know what's real anymore

I don't even know if truth exists

since everything is subjective anyways

just tonight... just tonight

I'll go to sleep and hold myself crying

and feel the gravity of everything that's wrong with me

get up tomorrow and try again

[the-bau-quinjet]

Tolerate It

Summary: Reader struggles with feeling like Hotch is growing distant.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Category: fluff/angst

Warnings: the reader has thoughts/feelings of inadequacy

Word Count: 3200+

Notes: This is my entry for @railmereid‘s 2k writing challenge! It was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song tolerate it! I think there’s only one direct quote (I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life). 

You met Aaron on accident. It could be said that a lot of people are met on accident, and that’s just how people meet other people. But with Aaron it felt different. It felt as though every little thing that went wrong that day lead you to the accident that would introduce Aaron Hotchner into your life.

After the shit show that was today, all you want to do is get home and sleep. Maybe also eat dinner, but honestly even food is on the backburner of your mind right now. 

Your drive home from work was the first uneventful thing to happen all day, a necessary moment of peace. You made it into your apartment without any trouble, swiftly moving to change into your fluffiest pajamas and sleep.

The second your head hit your pillow, the fire alarm sounded. The blaring alarm screeched in your ears as you groaned. You forced yourself out of bed to comply with the alarm. Without thinking, you put on your slippers, grabbed your keys, and walked out the front door. 

Once you made it to the street, you turned to see the building really was on fire. It looked contained to one patio, but it was big enough for you to give up your plans of sleep. Instead, you chose to turn on your heel and walk down the street to escape the crowd. 

You didn’t have a plan as to where you were going. You just wanted it to be quiet. Before long, you found yourself in a park. Looking around, you spotted an empty bench. Perfect. You can just sit, enjoy the quiet of the park for however long it takes to fix the fire issue. 

You start trekking toward the bench, now walking with a purpose, when you notice a man chasing his child. The child laughs loudly, joy so clear on his face. The man smiles at him, still running behind him. 

His smile is so infectious, it has its own magnetic force pulling you towards him.  Switching directions from the bench, you are now walking toward the grassy area they are playing in, not looking at your surroundings. You’re so captivated by the happiness on display in front of you, you don’t notice the change in terrain. 

You end up tripping on a rock, falling and tumbling down the slight decline to land in a heap at the feet of the very man whose smile distracted you.

To make matters worse, he was not stationary. No, that would have been to simple. He was, in fact, still chasing the child. So, rather than rolling to a stop and looking up at him, you rolled right into him, causing him to lose his balance and fall over you. 

The two of you were a tangled mess of limbs piled on top of each other. Slowly, carefully the two of you separated, gingerly moving arms and legs to avoid further injury. Helping each other rise from the ground, you were both speechless, equal parts amused and horrified at what just happened. 

“Are you okay?” 

You jumped at the sudden intrusion that brought you back to reality. Spinning around, you realized it was the child. 

It took you an embarrassing amount of time to form a response. “Oh, um... yes I’m okay. Thank you.” Turning back to the man, you finally realized what just happened. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

He chuckled, a small smirk appearing on his face before he replied, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oh, good.” Your relief was short lived as you realized what you were wearing and how you were dressed. “Please tell me you didn’t see me roll all the way down the hill?” You cringed at the thought. 

“I could say it, but it wouldn’t be very honest.”  Again, a small laugh left his lips. 

“Do you think we could pretend?” You took a deep breath as he quirked his eyebrow. “Ya know, that I didn’t just make a complete fool of myself?”

“But that’s not true! Daddy said when something’s not true it’s a lie and lies are bad.” The boy chimed in again, earning a chuckle from both adults. You bent down to talk to him. 

“You are absolutely right, lying is bad.” You nodded along with him, matching his serious expression. 

He took in your expression, as if judging the sincerity of your statement. Slowly, a smile began to form as if he was glad you agreed with him. “Do you want to play tag with us?”

Looking from him to his father, you took the slight smile and nod of his head as an invitation to accept his offer. “I would love to.”

That series of accidents led you to where you are now, though. A year and a half later you are sitting in your shared home, watching Aaron Hotchner do paperwork for what feels like the millionth night in a row. More realistically, it is the ninth night in a row, but you’re feeling lonely and dramatic. Those nine nights have been spread out over the past month, interrupted by nights he spends away from home.

You yearn to be closer to him. All it would take is for you to cross the room, but it feels as though the distance from the couch you are lounging on to the desk he is working at is too far, like there is some impassible divide preventing you from interrupting him. 

So you just keep watching. It has been 36 minutes since you started your observing. If he sticks to his pattern, he’ll pause in nine minutes to stretch, giving him the opportunity to notice your eyes on him.  You’re hopeful that this time he’ll smile when he sees you. 

So you wait. You watch him read. You notice the way his head dips just a bit lower as he tries to focus tired eyes on the smudged handwriting of a fellow agent. You notice how his hand squeezes the pen tighter than before, turning the once smooth glide of ink across the page into rushed, jagged strokes of letters. You notice the barely there wince as he flips the page, the result of the familiar feeling of a paper cut he’s grown all too used to. You notice everything he does. Which is why you’re not surprised when he speaks. 

“You’re staring.” 

Glancing at your phone, you note the time. Nine minutes later. Right on schedule. The smile you hoped for is noticeably missing, replaced by a curious tilt of his head.

“I’m basking in your presence.” 

If he wanted to, he could figure out how lonely and dramatic you are feeling. But with the majority of his energy still directed towards the many reports on his desk, he only notices the surface level. Tired, slightly miffed, but enjoying that he is home.

There was once a time when he would have noticed it all though. A time when he noticed everything about you, sometimes before you had even noticed it about yourself. You’ve learned how to hide it though, to save him the energy that would be expended to profile you. 

“You should consider a new career path. Comedy could really be for you.”

His deadpan joke doesn’t surprise you, but him rising from his desk chair does. For a minute, you expect him to come to you. To attempt to cross the impassible divide you’ve built in your head. Instead, he turns into the kitchen. He pauses at the island, drinking from the glass he never brings to his desk to prevent anything from ruining his files. 

When he returns to his desk, squandering any lingering hope that he may have been done for the night, you rise. Unwilling to do what you had hoped of him, you turn away from his desk and move toward the stairs. Just before you lose sight of him, you turn back. 

“Don’t forget to sleep tonight.” 

Your tone is soft, emphasizing your concern to cover up the lingering loneliness. 

“I’ll be up soon.”

You respond with a slight nod of your head, another thing unnoticed by Aaron as his eyes never left the files. 

You flitter through the second level as you complete your routine to prepare yourself to sleep for the night. 

You can’t help but notice the cold sheets on the empty side of the bed as you wait for Aaron, knowing you’ll likely be asleep before he comes to bed. 

--

You’re surprised to wake up the next morning with Aaron still in bed next to you. You watch his chest rise and fall with the steady in and out of his breath. His face is fully relaxed, a sight you so rarely get to see. 

You’re not sure how long you watch him sleep, but you notice when his rhythmic breathing changes pattern indicating he’s waking up. His eyes flutter open slowly, allowing you to see the exact moment he notices you. 

“You’re staring again.” 

The smile you are still hoping for is again absent from his face, too used to the frown that has taken over his features near permanently for the past month.  

“I’m still basking in your presence.”

You notice the beginnings of a grin forming on his face. The twinkle in his eyes. The slight twitch of his lips. It’s nearly there when the moment is interrupted by the distinct, shrill ringtone indicating a call from the bureau. 

You watch as he sits up to answer the phone with his typical “Hotchner”. If you hadn’t spent the last year noticing everything you could about the man, you would doubt that he had been asleep less than three minutes ago. 

His brows furrow, his body leaning forward to sit a little straighter as he takes in the information from whoever is on the other end of the phone. His eyes trace the pattern of your comforter, up until he throws the blanket off of himself to rise to his feet. He’s changing into his suit before hanging up. Without even hearing his responses, you can tell where this is headed. 

After he hangs up, you speak before he has the chance. 

“I take it you won’t be here for dinner with my parents tonight? I’ll try to reschedule it.” 

The question should express your loneliness, but you do well to hide the full truth. It’s easy to sound understanding because you are. You do understand, which is why you never plan to tell him how you feel. 

The grim expression is enough for you to know you’re right, you don’t need the verbal confirmation. You nod your head, a smile on your face that doesn’t meet your eyes as he walks out of your bedroom. 

--

While Aaron was away, you did everything you could to keep yourself busy outside of your typical 9 to 5 workday. Aside from the typical reading, cleaning, and TV watching you normally do you; you successfully navigated another conversation with your parents about why it was necessary to reschedule dinner a second time and played action figures with Jack, always in agreement about how his daddy is a hero. 

Every night you found yourself staring at the door, hoping it would swing open and reveal him on the other side. Every night you grew less hopeful and more discouraged than the one previous. 

--

Five days after he left, Aaron returned to your shared home. Despite the late hour, you waited for him on the couch. Knowing he probably hadn’t eaten dinner, you kept some food warm for him. 

When the door swung open, you were in front of it in seconds. You pulled him into a hug, one he was too exhausted to reciprocate, and kissed his cheek. 

Moving farther into the house, he dropped his files on his desk swiftly turning to head upstairs. 

“I kept dinner warm for you.”

Your words stalled him at the bottom of the stairs. He turned around slowly, barely looking at you.

“I actually ate with the team tonight.”

His words hit you like a bus, but you turned to hide it. He didn’t eat with the team often, so you never blamed him when he stayed with them a bit longer than usual. 

“Oh, okay. I’ll just put it in a container for tomorrow then. Did you want to talk about the case?”

You’ve always been willing to help him carry the weight of his job, but you’ve been trying harder to get him to open up this past month. Typically he brushes you off, tells you he’s fine, and then buries himself in paperwork. 

He surprised you this time. Maybe he could tell you were upset, or maybe he was just too far in his head. Either way, rather than continuing on his path up the stairs, he moved to sit in the kitchen while you put the food away. 

You listened as he ranted about the local officers withholding information about the case. You listened as he complained about the poor weather. You listened to every word, slowly washing and drying the dishes until they were sparkling. You listened until you were practically asleep, leaning against the sink. You didn’t dare to interrupt in fear he would shut down again. Or maybe it was you shutting down, but that’s a thought for another time. 

When he finished talking, he rose from his chair, too worked up to sleep now, he sat down at his desk. 

You watched, noticing everything you could. 

--

Your weeks repeated much the same for the next few months. Your loneliness morphed into something new with each night you spent watching Aaron work. 

It’s one such night when everything changes. You were trying to watch him work, but your thoughts drifted away from his actions as you lost yourself in your memories. 

The first case Aaron went on after you moved in with him and Jack was the hardest for you. After a straight week of seeing him so often around the house, it felt like a slap in the face to come home and not have him there. Somehow you made it through, and you were clingier than usual when he came home. 

He noticed how it affected you. That was before you started hiding your feelings from him. He told you he thought about you in every spare moment. That he wanted to solve the case even more than usual just so he could come home to see you even just a few minutes sooner.

He calmed all of your fears, protecting you from your own intrusive thoughts about holding him back when he was working. 

You couldn’t help but think about every time he recognized how you were feeling and did what he could to help. How he would reassure you that he wanted to be with you, bringing you little key chains or stuffed animals from the cities he travelled to. How he would smile when he saw you. Where was that man now? 

You thought back to the first day you met Aaron. It was like he saved you from a terrible day, bringing a smile to your face after hours upon hours of crap. 

“Do you think we could pretend?” You laugh lightly to yourself at the memory of Jack telling you not to lie.  Not realizing you spoke the words out loud, you’re surprised to hear Aaron from across the room.

“Pretend what?” The confusion is clear in his voice and the furrow of his brows. 

“Hmm? Oh, um. I was just thinking about the first day we met.” Tears begin to brim your eyes as you think about how much everything has seemed to change. “And how you became my whole world and now I feel like I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life.” The tears are now freely falling down your face. 

Aaron looks even more confused now. “What?” He’s frozen at his desk, pen in hand, reports on the surface in front of him. 

“I’m so sorry. I just feel like I’m taking up so much of your time and you have such important things to do! God, I’m so selfish. I’ve tried so hard to hide it though, so you can focus on people who actually need your help.” The panic in your voice grows as you speak, along with the tears falling from your eyes. 

“Y/N...” Suddenly, Aaron is on his feet, easily crossing the imaginary divide you’ve built in between the couch and his desk. He slows down, moving gently as he pulls you into him on the couch, moving your legs across his lap so he could pull you into his chest. “Sweetheart, you could never take up too much of my time.” He speaks slowly, so as not to start another round of sobbing. 

“What?” Your confusion is clearly communicated with the one word question, but you’re on a roll with your feelings so why stop now. “Are you saying it’s all in my head? Bu-, but, but you’ve been so busy every time you’ve been home! I’ve barely seen you, and I’ve tried so hard to not let it bother me because I know how important what you do is! I do, I understand it all so much. I could never be mad at you for working so hard. I just feel like you’re tolerating me being here when you have so many more important things to do.” 

Now breathless, your rant ends with more tears forming in your eyes. Aaron is quick to wipe them away as they fall. “You’re right. I have been busy.” His voice is full of concern and regret as he thinks about the past few months. “But please don’t ever doubt for a second that you are the most important thing in the world to me.” He pauses for a second before continuing. “Well, other than Jack.” This earns him a slight chuckle from you before you reply. 

“Jack is the most important to me too.” Your clear your throat, hesitant to voice your next question. “You’re not mad at me?”

Aaron looks so taken aback, you would laugh if you weren’t so nervous. “I could never be mad at you. Especially not for having completely valid feelings. I’m so sorry I haven’t been as present as I should’ve been. I love you so much, Y/N. More than I could ever put into words, and I will be doing a better job of showing you just how much you mean to me from now on.” There’s a slight edge to his voice, as though he’s annoyed with himself for you feeling this way. “Please, don’t ever hide your feelings from me. I never want to lose you.” His own voice is cracking, slight tears in his eyes at the idea of you not being in his life. 

“I promise.” You lean up to kiss him, trying to convey just how much you’ve missed him. 

“Let’s go to bed.” He lifts you up from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs. 

You shriek, clinging to him even more. “It’s only 9:15!” You laugh at his antics. “What about your reports?”

“I have more important things to do right now.” He smirks at you, quickly moving into the bedroom to show you just how much he cares about you. 

permanent tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @measure-in-pain

[mc-lukanette]

"Optigami" (Alternate Ending)

"Luka."

Luka glanced up from his seat in the greenhouse area of the Liberty. Ladybug was standing on top of the glass, and he blinked to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.

After confirming that she was really there, he set his guitar aside and greeted, "Hey. Is something wrong?"

"No," she answered immediately, then corrected, "Ah—I mean, yes. Sort of."

She gestured down to the floor wordlessly and he nodded to assure that she could come down. She nodded in return, dropping to the deck so she could approach him. The greenhouse area wasn’t a discreet location normally - given all the glass windows - but it was nighttime and Paris was asleep, so he was sure they were alone.

"I wanted to apologize," she muttered, a deep regret in her gaze, "for getting you - everyone, really - involved in all of this. Giving you a miraculous has caused nothing but trouble for you."

Luka couldn't respond at first, shocked at the suddenness of the conversation. It wasn’t like he’d forgotten what’d happen that day, but he hadn’t imagined her feeling any guilt over it. "I... Ladybug, you don't have to apologize for anything. I was glad I got to protect Paris."

"But it was my mistake that got your identity found out," she whispered. Averting her gaze, she added forlornly, "It was barely a few weeks ago when I got someone to talk about my hero life, and now they're probably going to be targeted by Shadow Moth because they needed to help me. I'm supposed to be protecting all of you, not the other way around. My hero life...” She sighed. “It's caused trouble for everyone and shown me the truth."

Something about the word "truth" unnerved him, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "What do you mean? What truth?"

"That I was never supposed to rely on others," she replied. "I'll only burden them. I have to carry being Ladybug by myself, or else the people I love will be Shadow Moth's next victims. Everyone I picked felt so right for their miraculouses - or so I thought - but then everything went wrong. I'm sorry, Luka, for... everything."

"Ladybug, you..." Luka trailed off. She looked empty - defeated - like she'd made a realization that she should've made long ago; a realization that’d come too late. "But, your confidant..."

"I can't change what I told them, but they did too much under Shadow Moth's watch," she explained. "They can't do anything for me anymore. It's too risky."

"Then get another one," he gently encouraged. When she gave him a confused look, he clarified, "I might not know much about you, Ladybug, but I don't think anyone can do everything alone." After some careful thought, he continued, "Even Shadow Moth had that woman - Mayura? - as his partner, and he's an adult."

Luka didn't know how old Ladybug was, of course, but he knew well enough that she was around his age. Her song implied the same: strong, brave, but also young and stressed.

"I...I can't," Ladybug argued. "I'd just be putting them in danger."

"What if they want to put themselves in danger for you?" he challenged, not willing to back down so easily. "For Paris?"

She hesitated, taking a step back and rubbing the side of her neck. "I don't have to worry about anyone this way."

"Everyone should have someone to worry about," Luka countered, a lighter, fonder tone to his voice. "I have a few myself."

She looked at him, suddenly curious. "...Really?"

"Yeah," he answered. "My sister was the first verse I ever thought about. I worry about her all the time and whether I'm doing the best I can as her brother."

He just barely heard her gentle interjection of, "I-I'm sure you are."

He gave her an appreciative smile and continued, "It's thanks to you giving her that amulet that I don't have to think about her getting akumatized anymore, and we're talking more about more now too." Then, putting a hand to a necklace that wasn't there, he added, "Marinette's my second verse."

Had it not been so dark, he would've seen the hint of pink on Ladybug's cheeks.

"Even if we're not together anymore, I still care about her. I still worry about her. She's brave and smart and I'm sure she can take care of herself, but even when I was in the vents at the event that happened today, I still wanted her to be okay. Maybe it sounds like they're burdens to me, but they make me want to be better - stronger - so nothing happens to them."

Ladybug went strangely quiet at that, though Luka could see that she seemed to be feeling some mix of emotions.

"...Thank you," she finally said, though he wasn't sure what she was thanking him for. "Really, but I don't have anyone else, and even if I did, it... it's better for me to just wear the miraculouses myself."

He understood her logic, but it was difficult to say much when he didn't know anything about combining miraculouses. "That sounds... hard, being a one-man band all the time..."

"It's what I have to do," she retorted, almost curtly. "Even if I had someone, I wouldn't know how to make it work. There are so many risks."

Luka considered that, his fingers idly stroking where the snake bangle would be in he had it. The next step was obvious, and he replied resolutely, "What about me?"

"Huh?" She gaped at him. "Wh—Luka? But—today, you... and the snake—"

"If you need to give me a different miraculous, that's okay," he assured. "Shadow Moth would never know. He'd think you figured his plan out and decided to get rid of all the heroes you had." Placing a hand to his chest rather than the non-existent necklace, he added, "And I promise, Ladybug, I'll do everything I can for you. I'm not dating anyone and I can go with any song you need me to play. If you just need to call me, I can make myself available. Even with my job, I'm usually out riding by myself, so I can stop for you."

"That—" She looked like she wanted to argue, but she stopped herself, her eyes looking back and forth between both of his like she was really trying to think about what he was saying. "...that sounds... nice, actually."

"You shouldn't have to lose everyone because of a mistake, Ladybug," he told her genuinely. He didn't know - didn't care - about the mistake she made. He only knew that she didn't need to be punished like this. "You deserve a Second Chance of your own."

Her lips pressed together, her eyes shimmering at his words. She seemed touched, and he felt trusted at the way she willingly showed vulnerability in front of him.

The moment dragged on for a few seconds, Ladybug looking at him, then the deck, and then the world around them. Finally, her hand reached for her yoyo, and she opened it to reveal a bright pink portal. She reached inside, pulling out the fox miraculous that he recognized from seeing on Rena Rouge.

"Luka Couffaine, will you accept this miraculous? Will you become my new confidant?"

"Yes," he replied. He’d tried to look and sound professional as he took it - seeing how much of a high honor it was - but with the way the corners of her lips quirked up at him, she may've been merely amused by the attempt.

She was smiling regardless at least.

He stared at the miraculous in his hands, the tiny weight of it being unable to compete with the real weight of being Ladybug's confidant now. It seemed so heavy, yet rewarding at the same time, and he couldn't imagine how little the weight must've been compared to what she carried every day.

"Luka," she called gently.

He glanced up from the miraculous to look at her, the sudden friendliness in the whisper of his name catching him off-guard.

"There's one more thing," she told him.

"What is it?" he asked, mentally preparing himself as he clutched the fox miraculous to his chest.

Yet, no amount of preparation could've prepared him for what came next.

"...Tikki, spots off."

[yinses]

meticulously

| you just needed him to do this one thing … then you wouldn’t ask for anything more | sukuna ryomen rating: 18+

a/n: we only accept au sukuna in this nandos. my second longest work to date and its sukuna.

maybe it was because you were tired of hearing it all.

about how you were such a good girl. so ambitious and focused on your studies. they made it seems so honorable that you were willing to put boys on the back burner in order to achieve your goals.

as if you had a choice.

as if you weren’t a timid little thing who incidentally teased the edges of something before falling back the recesses of your comfort zone. how many apps had you applied for only to waste the time of yourself and others. those sites were never meant to find true love- just conveniently hook ups to release pent up stress.

and you had a lot of it.

so maybe that's why you decided that it was okay to have a little more to drink tonight- to wander further from your friends into the wilderness. you could have one day to make a bad decision and face the consequences for it.

clubs were never your thing which was likely another reason why you were in this drought.

it wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be, as old habits die hard. every so often you were approached with promises of drinks and suggestive conversation. and each one you shied away from and earned a scoff before they already started in pursuit of their next challenge.

it was possible that you were doing it wrong. you lacked the confidence to just ask for what you wanted, mostly because you didn’t know.  play coy, they told you, make them do the work for you.

so you find yourself on the dance floor instead with a new strategy. lost among the masses with the bass thrumming in your veins. here there would be no room for talk.

it only takes one song for you to feel him behind you. he doesn’t whisper sweet things in your ear. instead, his hands start at your hips, just a brush of touch to see how you react. when you don’t move away, he pulls you close and moves your hips in slow circles.

you’re immediately attracted to his confidence. in the way he guides your hand upward, instead of lower, encouraging your hand to grip at the short of his hair. the angle it provides is an open invitation for him to begin placing open mouthed kisses up the length of your neck. when he reaches your ear he pauses, and you hear the dark timber of his voice.

“i saw you turning away all those little boys earlier. what are you looking for, kitten?”

kitten. you shiver at the name.  main characters in novels always turned into a giddy mess over the pet name, losing themselves to the velvety whispered promises and underlying possession. the name brought more of a thrill than anything else; to know that he had been watching you in the distance.

you fight the urge to turn, wanting to stay in the moment for as long as you could. for some reason, like this, you think you could become the person he thinks you are. someone who knows what she wants and doesn’t accept anything less. back at the bar, men asked you too many questions and allowed the opportunity for your insecurities to bleed through.

like this, you only needed to admit one thing.

“i want you.”

its stupid and reckless. he could be a list of anything dangerous yet you advanced him to the top of the list. it was too early to tell but you hope he could be the one. then all of of the little details wouldn’t matter. you were here to lose your first time, not remember it.

you don’t expect him to use the grip on your hips to turn you, the sudden shift and lingering alcohol leaving you disoriented for a moment.

he was tall, though you had judged so from the reach it took to curl your fingers into his nape. the hair you had been blindly acquainted with turned out to be an unusual pale shade of pink. but it worked for him, and the interesting accompaniment of vermillion eyes. you were just starting to account the black lines of dark ink peeking from under his sleeve when his voice drew your attention back to his face.

his grin was telling. he wanted you to take him in because he knew you’d like what you saw. he doesn’t even need to ask. it was too early to tell if he was calling your bluff or enabling it.

he brings his mouth down to hover above yours, lips brushing as he speaks,”so your place or mine?”

this is what you needed, no thoughts beyond what your bodies could offer. this was the man who would take your virginity.

the first sign of hesitance you show is when offering your home. it was close enough to the campus and your neighbors would hear your scream if your ignorance turned out to be your undoing. he agrees, naturally, because why would he turn down a willing lay?

your fingers fumble quickly and shakily as you quickly text your friends that you’re bringing someone back. the answers vary from concern, to disbelief, to excitement and back to apprehension. ultimately, your roommates agree to leave the apartment to you for the night but vow to turn up first thing in the morning.

all the while, his hand is at the small of your back as he guides you towards the entrance. the icy cold air that hits you when you step outside is unkind to the thin sheen of sweat you’d accumulated. the price paid to look good rarely came cheap. the heat radiating from behind you was less of a comfort and more of a reminder as you shift from foot to foot in wait for a taxi.

“ names’ sukuna.”

it came as a jest rather than to inform. the way your eyes widen in realization proving that you’d skimmed over that step unintentionally. the men prior had offered it up without prompting as if it as their key trait in the introductions. while you’d grinded on this man for nearly two songs and hadn’t even thought to ask.

you stumble over your own name and his grin widens further.

he leans close enough for your visible breaths to mingle.

“you’re so fucking cute, kitten. i can’t wait to unwrap you.” 

and then he was kissing you senseless.

he tastes of whiskey and menthol, a savory smokiness that would be a lingering flavor for hours to come. there was a unique sense of excitement that came from kissing a stranger. the anxiousness blurred the lines between your thoughts and emotions. his tongue met yours and swept it into a fast, claiming pace.

just when your hands rose to find purchase on his shirt, the incoming headlights fanned against your joined bodies. sukuna, the apparent level-headed one, pulled away for you.

“don’t worry, we’ll have plenty to explore soon.”

sukuna surprisingly does not encroach on your space in the back of the taxi. his arm rests comfortably along the back of your seat, but his fingers don't chase the easy access to the back of your neck there. it makes you annoyingly anxious as your knee jumps in place. you refrain from looking at him in the corner of your eye already knowing what awaits you on his lips.

the remainder of the drive is short and uneventful.it takes less than ten minutes between the club and the arrival at your front door. you impress yourself with the lack of tremors as you fit your key into the door and welcome you into your home.

the light from the kitchen highlights only what you need to make it to your bedroom without injury. too many had happened before that became habitual prior to any night out.

there is a rattle in your spine as you carefully pull one shoe off than the other. its an action that you take your time with as you gather your thoughts. when you look back at him, he hasn’t wandered a step from the entrance, though his gaze travels where the light allows. at the feel of your gaze he cocks a brow,”i’m waiting on you kitten.”

right.

this was happening.

you’d made it this far.

tilting your head, you lead him to your bedroom without another word. you’re thankful that your widow sits in view of the night sky, taking the place of any artificial light you might have to provide.

every muscle is as stiff as a board as you toss your shoes into a corner. your mouth opens to stupidly point out that this is your room.

sukuna laughs, because why wouldn’t he after learning the mysterious vixen not only had a name but was a timid little thing. still he didn’t cater to your anxiety nor did he allow it to slow his pace.

his arms flex as he reaches behind himself to pull at his shirt from the tag. you’d caught glimpses of his tattoos in the darkness of the club without really looking, but you haven't been able to connect the lines of a pseudo sleeve. the double bands circle both wrists and biceps with encompassing circles swirling around his shoulders. it was a simple yet uniform pattern. you could just see the beginning of another figure curing from behind his neck as well.

“i’m starting to think that i should just be flattered when you get quiet like that.”

his hand makes itself home again at your waist as he walks you backwards until the edge of your bed knocks against the back of your knees. sukuna keeps you from falling back while his fingers go to curl at the hem of your dress.

“it’s only fair,” he says in your ear, as if the removal of his shirt was any kind of equivalence.

he helps you along the way, or maybe makes it worse as he starts to kiss your neck. his hands slide along every new available inch of skin from your thighs to your navel. he shamelessly cups your bra, squeezing the mounds in appreciation.

sukuna pulls away to rid you of the dress entirely. before you can adjust to the loss, he leans back in to unhook your bra as an afterthought.

he grins when you immediately bring your arms over your exposed chest,”don’t be shy. this is what you wanted, right?”

you don’t miss the implied probe behind the tease. it's faint but it’s comforting to know he’s still seeking consent and it eases a bit of your anxiety.

it makes you pliant enough for him to cup the backs of your thighs and lie you back against the sheets. though the moment your bare skin comes in contact with the sheets with his broad form hovering over you, all the brief conviction shrivels up.

your hands curl into the bedding for leverage when his weight is suddenly there to ease you back down. his arms slip around you to anchor you in place, pinning you under the hard warmth of his chest. his lips meet your ear, tongue sliding along the shell,” these mixed signals are going to get old real quick, kitten. “

there is a warning there but you don’t know what exactly it alludes too. how could you when you’d invited a complete stranger into your home.

but sukuna seems to know what to look for, eyes carefully watching the way you shy away from his touch yet draw yourself back on your own. he’s attune to the push and pull, seeming to understand the paradoxical conundrum that you’d drug him into.

you can just barely catch the cut of his smile in the darkness,”are you a virgin, kitten?” he asks, voice light and cool.

the way his body is keeping you in place makes it impossible for you to curl in on yourself, your embarrassment left on display.

“oh baby, if you let me, i’ll take good care of you.”

and how could you not agree to that?

he swallows your affirmation, tongue pushing into your mouth and making you groan.

“ ‘m gonna make you feel so good.”

his hands slide between the apex of your thighs to cup you, digits gliding along your covered slit. two fingers from his other hand press against the aperture of your mouth with the single command to suck.

you only hesitate briefly, tongue flicking out to taste the salt from his fingers. his impatience grows in the moment, idly feeding you a few inches until your lips hollow to stop him before he can reach the back of your throat. it feels more like a sloppy mess than anything remotely sexy as you drool around him, sucking harder to contain the wetness.

but sukuna seems to eat up the attention, idly thrusting in and out when he can. “you’re such a good learner,” he praises with hoarseness.

a garbled squeak manages to leave you as the elastic of your panties is pulled from your hips. you can feel the stick trail connecting you to the fabric, but seeing it is a whole new wave of mortification.

sukuna is able to tug them down to your ankles before your legs can lock up. “don’t be shy. i love filthy girls like you.“ your nerves jump to attention when he presses his thumb against your throbbing clit. “i can work with this.”

you gasp, lips losing their grip on his fingers, as you press your head back against the pillow. heat rises in the low of your stomach, a sensation that you’d never been able to achieve on your own. he starts with a single digit, easily making its way through your passage with the slick provided. his fingers crook in search of an ideal angle, making a sound of encouraging praise when you keen and rock your hips down for more.

your lashes flutter with the effort of keeping them open as he manipulates friction against your sex.without warning, he adds a second finger in alongside the first,”kitten you have no idea how happy i am that you grinded back against me on that dance floor.” the introduction allows for a scissoring action as he tests the stretch of your walls.

you’re happy to have the flat to yourself as the next whimper shatters your coherency, snapping any restraint that you had on your volume. sukuna chuckles at your cry, flexing his touch to reach new depths.

“i really wanted to see what you could do with your mouth but i don’t think i can wait.”

he gives one last swipe against the tackly mess before he fumbles with his belt. you don’t get offended when he only drops his pants far enough to free his cock. its distracting enough watching him stroke himself idly to fullness. sukuna harbors no shame as he cants his hips, fucking into the tight circle of his fist.

he pulls his wet fingers from your lips and you swallow around the absence.

you’re immediately grateful when he pulls out a condom, uncaring when the empty foil packet gets lost on your floor.

sukuna can feel the tightness as he palms your hip and positions himself at the stretch of your entrance.

“don’t go getting all nervous on me. i went through such a great deal to prepare you for this.”

his hand slides past your naval to grip your breast, rolling the hardening peak with his thumb. the lack of attention they’d received thus far acts as enticing interference.

he still doesn’t go for the unanticipated approach, keeping you vaguely aware by running the head of his cock up and down your dripping cunt.

it’s still easier said than done as all the reddit and gossip forums come reeling back the the forefront. you hadn’t even thought to get a towel, what if there was a lot of blood- too much? should you have gotten painkillers ?

above you sukuna tsks and you jolt from the sharp pain of him cruelly pinching your nipple. when you go to protest, he merely gives you a look, holding your gaze while his head drops take the abused bud into his mouth.

when he gives a particularly hard suck you know what’s coming as his hips roll up against you.

he’s big. of course he’s big given that he’s your first and all that you’ve had prior to your own fingers are his. sukuna expresses a show of kindness that you weren’t expecting with the initial push, as he uses his grip to ease himself in slowly.

it still burns; the uncomfortable stretch as he drags the friction of his cock past the slick barrier. but its not thee sharp punch you were expecting even before the base meets your pelvis. your hand darts up to smack against the hard flat of his stomach to stop him there but the centimeters separating you were barely negligible.

his mouth pops off of your breast with a wet sound as you pant, squeezing experimentally around the width of him. it was more manageable than you were anticipating, and you adjust your hips in another trial. the movement pulls a sharp hiss from his lips and his fingers clamp down tighter at the curve of your waist.

his vermillion eyes are no longer slits of concentration, now blown wide to contain the depth of lust simmering there. there is a shudder a he holds himself back from fucking into you. “if you’re done playing, i’d like to fuck you now.”

instinct drives you to reach around him, nails gripping traction around his shoulder blades as he grates his hips. the motion starts the first thrusts of many as sukuna introduces you to the truest definition of fucking.

its gradual, the way he picks up speed, introducing each part of you to himself before overpowering the nerves with a firmer touch.you should be embarrassed by the broken sounds leaving your mouth, but you can hardly remember your own name let alone decency.

sukuna on the other hand, relishes in the way he fucks you stupid, taking each bite of your nail and shattered speech with pride. “you have the prettiest fucking mouth for a virgin.”

it was impossible to accept the praise with the way he was knocking the sense from you with each thrust. he made it feel so good. all of it. from the inclination to the way he filled you up.

he continues to slam inside, breathing barely affected by the effort of pulling you apart at the seams. god he just doesn’t shut up. and you don’t want him too. they way he can make you hang from each word. 

you don’t know how he can handle words with all the smugness oozing from is lips, “i know you wouldn’t know the difference. but they’re typically so quiet- biting their lip and shit as if they’d scare away their own orgasm.”

“but not you baby. you fucking speak to me.” its not the kind of praise you were expecting but you latch on to it anyway. his arm comes around your waist and brings you forward to pin against his frame.

you don't know what possesses you to do so, mayve its the new proximity,  but your hands cup his face and bring his lips to meet yours. sukuna doesn't fight the action but his attention is elsewhere as your head bobs with the effort of keeping your mouths attached. ultimately it's the sharpness of your teeth against his bottom lip that prompts him to participate.

his tongue shoves past your lips to twist with yours. then he angles his hips just so and you sob. its an epiphany for you but its exactly what sukuna was looking for as he aims there again, and again, abusing that little patch of tissue that makes you witness nirvana.

sukuna drops a hand between your bodies to pass a thumb over your clit. he smirks when you jolt, still managing a perfect enunciation of your name even as his hips lose rhythm.

“all i need you to do tonight is come. can you do that for me, kitten?”

and you can, even without his instruction as your legs come up to squeeze around him despite the tremors. hot pleasure radiates up your spine from the source, washing over you in waves as you spill around him. it feels incredible to finally be able to let go. fuck, you don’t know if anything else will be like this first time. but you’re damn sure not going to forget it anytime soon.

even as your body falls pliant, sukuna keeps the pace as he chases his own release. the beginnings of bruises protest at your hips as he pounds a fragment tempo until he stills. the groan he lets out nearly brings you to a second orgasm as the sound shakes your body.

you’re thankful that he has enough energy to unhinge your legs from his hips, laughing to himself at the little trembles they give off. the act of him leaving you is a strange sensation to describe. despite the beating it took, your cunt still tries to hold him in.

it naturally earns you a crass comment as he uses the edge of your comforter to wipe himself down,”kitten, i don’t think you could handle another round of me.” you don't want to think about where he tossed the condom, just hoping that it was within the vicinity of the trashcan. but that was something future you would have to worry about.

you don’t offer him a place to stay and he doesn’t give you the opportunity to do so.

present you was starting to learn a new type of soreness as you gathered your legs against your chest and bring the blankets around your body. there wasn’t much of a delay as sukuna got dressed, tracing back his steps easily to his discarded shirt and tucking himself away long the way.

when he looks back at you, you must look like a child snuggled away for the night.

his looks at you with silent consideration. it was finally time to conduct the awkward ‘thank yous’ before the two of you parted ways forever. but at least it wasn’t you taking the walk of shame. though you don’t think it will be sukuna either with the swagger still linger in his step. 

it’s the blatant admission that you weren’t expecting, “ i like you. so i’ll leave my number for another time.”

that is not how a one night stand should end.

sukuna assumes you can’t handle the basic technological skill of adding his contact to your phone and proceeds to write it instead on the planner board posted by the door. it’s written so big you can just make out the numbers from the bed.

“be sure to call when you think you can handle me at my best.”

you wait, listening for the front door to click shut in his departure before you fall back against your bed. you should really be changing the sheets but you cant bring yourself to do more than roll onto your side.

you did it.

finally experienced all the gossip and jazz everyone talked out. 

and now you could focus and get back on track.

without prompt, your gaze drifted over to the dry erase board. sukuna had completely disregarded the individual squares dedicated to different days and messily scrawled his information between two weeks. it was a direct representation of the chaotic energy he gave off.

you would just clean it up in the morning along with any other remnants of this night.

...

or perhaps you could save as a sort of emergency contact.

you’d just discovered a new source of therapy after all. 

[ikeromantic]

Bonding

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic, approx. 1800 words. This scene takes place well after the events of the Romantic Epilogue as part of my post-route headcanon storyline.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: In the Spotlight

Mitsuhide sat on the edge of a stuffed chair, a ‘sofa’, across from his little one’s father. Minoru, for his part, didn’t look any more comfortable with the company. Neither of them said anything. Mitsuhide found that his usual silver tongue had run out of witticisms when faced with the twin challenge of a world 500 years in the future and the need to impress the father of his beloved.

In the kitchen, the chatelaine and her mother Youko were making dinner. Their lively chatter was the only sound as the two men studied each other.

Finally, Minoru cleared his throat. “So. How did you two meet?”

“The answer to that would require additional explanation. Suffice it to say, I met her in the course of my work. Initially, she was a responsibility of mine. To train her so that she knew enough to stay ali- ah, safe.” Mitsuhide smiled. “She was quite a handful.”

Minoru frowned. “Safe? Safe from what? What kind of business are you in?” He leaned forward.

“Intelligence and information gathering.” He silently thanked Sarutobi for the modern words to describe being a spy and torturer.

“You work for a government?”

Mitsuhide nodded. “That is a good way to put it. Yes. For a government.”

His little mouse poked her head through the door. “Everything going ok, you two?”

Both men cleared their expressions and smiled over at her. “Yes,” they replied, almost in unison.

Her bright smile lit up the room. “I’m so glad. I wanted you two to get along. Anyway, dinner is almost ready!” She disappeared again and the smiles the two men wore faded like snow under a noon-day sun.

Minoru turned back to Mitsuhide. “How did my daughter get tangled up with some government agent? She designs clothes. She left for a job in fashion.” His voice is strained, half a year’s worth of worry and frustration pushing at the seams of his soul.

Mitsuhide nodded. “She is amazing at making clothing. That is a career she continues to pursue. But I met her the night she pulled my superior from a burning building. Had she not arrived when she did, he would have died.”

“My baby girl . . . pulled a man from a burning building?” Minoru’s eyebrows shot up, his expression one of incredulous disbelief.

“Yes, and after, he thought she should stay with our forces. For her protection and because he believed there was something special about her.” Mitsuhide’s thin smile reappeared. “He wasn’t wrong. She is very special. A wonder.”

Minoru coughed. “Well, yes, but . . . a burning building? She isn’t, that is, she wouldn’t just -”

Mitsuhide leaned forward. “You know her from her childhood. If she knew someone was going to burn to death and she had a chance to save them, would she leave them to die? Is it so unbelievable?”

He shook his head slowly. He knew his daughter was exactly the kind of girl to put herself at risk for another. “I should not be surprised. When she was five, she ran out into the street to stop traffic for a kitten. Almost got hit by a car. And it wasn’t until after the cat was safe that she even realized how close she came to dying.”

Both men chuckled.

“That sounds exactly like something my little mouse would do.”

Minoru scowled. “Your what?”

“A nickname,” Mitsuhide waved the comment off.

And then the call came for dinner. They all sat down around the table. A spread of familiar and strange foods that piqued Mitsuhide’s curiosity. He wondered which of these his beloved had made, and which her mother. To be safe, he thought, it would be wise to compliment every dish.

“So,” her mother began after everyone was served. “My daughter tells me you’re a warlord working for Oda Nobunaga?”

Mitsuhide choked in surprise, the bite of food sticking in his throat. He glanced at his little mouse for confirmation.

“It just sort of popped out while we were talking.”

With effort and a glass of water, Mitsuhide swallowed and cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect to bring this up until after dinner, but yes.”

Minoru scowled. “You’re telling me you work for a man 500 years dead?”

“I don’t know, he seemed pretty lively last time I saw him,” Mitsuhide quipped.

His little mouse grinned. “Papa, be nice! I told you, we will tell you everything.” She took a deep breath. “It started the day I arrived in Kyoto. I went sightseeing . . .”

Mitsuhide listened as attentively as her parents, this version of the tale filling in gaps and details he hadn’t known. Her timely rescue of Sasuke Sarutobi, her run-in with the forces from Kasugayama. It appeared his little one was better at keeping secrets that he’d credited.

Through the story, her mother made little sounds of agreement or surprise, but Minoru was deathly silent. His expression turned darker at every part until he couldn’t hold back anymore. “This sounds like some ridiculous cartoon! You can’t expect your mother and I to buy this. Tell the truth! What is he, some mafia? A gambler? What?”

Youko frowned at him from across the table. “Now you just hush and eat your food. If our little girl says this is what happened, I believe her. She has no reason to lie. She knows we support her no matter what. Don’t we, dear?”

Minoru’s brows lowered. “You can’t be serious. This, this man shows up with our daughter after months with no word! Not a letter! Not a post card! With this crazy story and we’re supposed to just -”

“Accept it. You know as well as I do that if our girl didn’t write or call, it’s because she couldn’t. When you think of it that way, it makes perfect sense.” Youko nodded to emphasize her point. “Besides, when have you ever known her to lie.”

“She’s terrible at that,” Mitsuhide added drily.

Minoru’s scowl deepened. “Don’t talk like you know her. Maybe you drugged her or something, and now she thinks all that is true.”

Mitsuhide sighed. He’d expected this kind of reaction after Sasuke and his little one explained what ‘meeting the parents’ entailed. He was beginning to wish he could have simply sent some gifts and a contract, or better yet, left that to Nobunaga and simply married the girl. “We did bring some proof with us today, and we have friends tomorrow who can vouch for everything.”

Youko gave Mitsuhide an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you go get it? I’m sure it will make Mino a little less grouchy.”

“I’m not grouchy,” Minoru grumbled.

“You are, papa. But it’s ok. This is really all my fault. I wish I’d been able to call you both. I missed you so much.”

Her father swallowed whatever he’d planned to say, touched by his daughter’s affection.

Mitsuhide went to their bags and grabbed his sword and the clothes he’d arrived in. He carried them back to the dining area. These were unlikely to be enough, he thought, but it wasn’t as if they’d planned to be swept to this time that night.

“Our clothes -” he set them down, “and my sword.”

Minoru poked at the clothing, unimpressed. The sword, however, got his attention. “This . . . it isn’t just some decorative piece . . .” The words were quiet, said more to himself than anyone.

Still, Mitsuhide answered. “No. That blade has taken many lives.”

“And saved some too,” his little mouse added. “Mine included.”

Minoru looked between the two of them. “Maybe you’ve both lost your minds. This thing -” He pointed at the sword, “is clearly an antique, but that proves nothing.”

“You are so stubborn,” Youko huffed.

Mitsuhide was beginning to see where his little one got that quality. Sweetness from her mother, stubbornness from her father. It made him smile.

***

Miyake and Sasuke sat at a nearby bar, drinks in hand.

“So this is called karaoke?” Miyake eyed the screen with words that moved and then emptied his sake cup. “And I can sing whatever I want?”

“Not whatever. I doubt they have any songs you know on file. But I think the enjoyment quotient will still be high.” Sasuke began tapping through the song selection, his expression focused. He stopped when he came across one with the image of a pink-faced girl. “This one.”

Miyake shrugged. “Alright.”

The music started. It sounded nothing like the instruments Miyake knew, or the rhythms and beats that were familiar to him. Still, he could pick out the melody, and it was nice - if strange.

The first word on the screen lit up and Sasuke started singing. His voice was surprisingly pleasant, even though the lyrics were senseless.

Miyake joined him on the next verse, nodding to the beat. It was a cheerful tune, he thought. Perfect to drink to. He poured another glass for himself and the ninja.

They emptied that and another as the song ended. The next pick was Miyake’s. He chose one based on the picture, a cute girl in a ridiculously short skirt.

“This is the theme song for my favorite anime,” Sasuke grinned.

“Then I picked a good one?”

Sasuke patted his arm. “A great one.”

Two hours later, both of them were too drunk to walk straight. Their singing got louder as their ability to pronounce the lyrics dwindled.

“Todokete atsuku naru omi . . .” The song dissolved into drunken laughter.

Miyake threw an arm around Sasuke. “Y-you’re my besht - besht fren.”

Sasuke leaned into the hug. “N-now I have two! Two besht frienz - friends.” He grinned but the expression slid into a sad frown.

“Wha - what ish it?” Miyake peered at the ninja’s face. “Need more sake?”

“I - I wish my other fren wash here,” Sasuke hiccuped. “An Shingen. I wash goin- going to take him to a hoshpital.”

Miyake nodded, though he didn’t understand. “Maybe nexsht time?”

“If he livesh,” Sasuke sighed.

“To Shingen,” Miyake poured them another round of sake. “And nexsht time!”

They drank to the toast.

Sasuke poured another. “And to friendsh we lef-left behind.”

They drank to that too.

After several more toasts that grew further away from the original point - to short skirts and lady’s stockings, to coffee, to the karaoke bar - the two men finally paid their tab and stumbled to the hotel.

Miyake nearly puked on the elevator, as the movement made his stomach flip. He would have taken the stairs, if he thought he could find the steps. He leaned on Sasuke as they walked down the hall. It felt like their room was miles away.

Sarutobi fumbled with the lock, and when the door opened, they fell inside.

Between leaning on each other and the walls, they managed to stand again.

“I’m go-gonna shower,” Miyake mumbled.

“Me nexsht,” Sasuke agreed. He tripped toward the beds and fell into the nearest one, face first.

Miyake made it to the shower, but didn’t manage to turn it on. He slumped to the floor and leaned his head back on the cool tiles, falling into a deep sleep.

Next: Middle Ground

[hlizr50]

You Belong with Me

Azriel and his brothers are high-power executives, and while the Valkyrie ladies always attend the fancy dinners and events, Gwyn is NOT wealthy and is the only one who isn't attached to someone who is. When Gwyn volunteers to take Azriel to the cabin early to prep for their big family/friends vacation, they have a conversation about how she might have to cut back. Add in banter and hours of Gwyn unabashedly belting Taylor Swift, and Az realizes that not having her around is just not an option.

Guys... I've never cared for AU, never been big into song lyrics. But my soul just needed this to be a thing. So here it is.

Read on AO3

“You sure this thing is gonna get us there?” Azriel’s smug grin only earned an eyeroll from the redhead on the other side of the car, opening the driver’s side door.

“Just put your shit in the trunk and get in the car,” she huffed across the weathered blue of the roof. He chuckled, slinging his suitcase into the trunk as the door slammed – maybe with a little extra force. He loved poking at her, and he knew she would dish it right back. After closing the trunk he returned to the open door on the passenger’s side and lowered himself into the well-worn leather seat. “You know not all of us are fortunate enough to be high-level executives at multi-million dollar companies. But rest assured that this historical document restoration expert and her 16-year-old Toyota with 154000 miles are going to get you to the cabin safe and sound. Because you insisted on getting there a day early to make sure everything is secure.” Gwyn deepened her voice, giving him her best Azriel impersonation. And maybe he was being a bit… overzealous. But he had always been the most keenly aware, the most protective. He may have been CFO, but he was also deeply involved in security – both from the standpoint of the organization and of it’s employees. And his family.

He simply smirked, “If you say so.”

“You’re insufferable,” she groaned, turning the key. The car rumbled to life, and Azriel had to admit that he was impressed with how quiet it still seemed to run. He was sure Gwyn was a stickler about maintenance. “Just for that, you are sentenced to three hours of me serenading you with the best songs Taylor Swift has to offer.”

“Oh, Gods, anything but Taylor Swift.” Azriel grimaced, hiding the secret joy he rarely let her see. He loved it when she sang. Her voice was lovely, of course, but what hit him harder was how she seemed to radiate joy when she did it.

Gwyneth Berdara wasn’t quiet and shy like he tended to be – not by a long shot. She was irreverent and blunt and bold. But he could see the shadows that hid just behind the shimmer in her eyes – he could tell there were demons there. Her sister had been murdered four years before, in the apartment they both had shared, and it had wounded her deeply. Nesta had mentioned that there was more to the story, but that it was only Gwyn’s to tell. So, yes, she definitely had darkness that followed her, but she kept it well hidden. He’d learned, as they had become friends, that she often grew anxious in large crowds or chaotic environments. She didn’t feel safe, and that had always bothered him. Regardless of how many people were around or how crazy it was, her friends were there with her. He was there. Whatever it was that kept her so on edge, he imagined that the lingering sadness in that deep ocean gaze and the faraway wistful look that sometimes passed over her features were a part of it.

But when she sang she was a beacon of light, with the brightest smile and rosy, freckle-flecked cheeks.

“Don’t you dare disrespect the goddess T. Swift,” she glowered, and as they pulled onto the highway he lost himself in the lilting notes of her car concert.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been driving – at least seven works of the goddess T. Swift – when he reached for the volume knob on the console and turned it down.

“Are you coming to the charity gala in a couple weeks?” Azriel looked over at her, noting the light stain of pink gracing her cheeks. She kept her eyes on the road.

“Oh… No.” Gwyn glanced over at him and gave a tight smile, causing him to purse his lips.

“Why not?”

“Az,” she chided, throwing him a stern look. “It’s too expensive. I can’t afford a seat and a dress. Hell, I probably can’t even afford one or the other.” He stayed silent, mulling over the understanding that money wasn’t something he ever had to worry about, and how he could make that not a problem for her. “Besides, you know how I am with crowds like that. I’d probably just have an attack and ruin everyone’s night.” She tried to laugh it off, and that troubled Azriel even more. Because she had seemed disappointed just then when she said she wasn’t going.

“Do you want to go, Gwyn?” He prodded. I want you to go. She sighed, adjusting herself in her seat to straighten her back.

“It doesn’t matter. Like I said, it’s really not possible for me.” She shrugged, as if that was it.

But that wasn’t it. Everyone was going to be there. She should be there, too. She should be there, with him.

“You know we would help –“

“I know, Az. But I’m not asking you, or Rhys. I’m not asking anyone. I can’t keep depending on everyone else just to go to events and dinners and whatever else.” She sucked in a breath. “I just… I don’t live the same life that the rest of you do. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just how it is.”

“Gwyn, you know nobody cares about that.” Azriel frowned. “I understand that my family is… fortunate. Privileged. But you and Nesta and Emerie are a part of us.”

“It’s not the same, Azriel.” Azriel. The full name. This was more serious than he realized. “Nesta is with Cassian and Emerie is with Mor. It makes sense that maybe they’re taken care of. I’m just… a friend. A friend who is poor.” He opened his mouth to argue but she beat him to it. “And it’s not just about covering food… you go to places with dress codes and too many forks for dinner, and with the company’s increasing success the three of you are only growing more popular and more press-worthy. Especially you.”

“Me?” Azriel swallowed, brows furrowed. “Why especially me?”

Gwyn cast him a pointed look, eyes dark and serious. “You’re the last single brother, Az. You are eligible bachelor number one. All the single ladies in the metropolitan area, if not further out, will be pining for you. If they’re not already.”

Eligible bachelor number one. He rolled his eyes. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Oh Az. Sweet, precious, innocent Az. Have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous. You’re wealthy, successful, and absolutely beautiful.” Azriel raised a brow and gave her a sideways glance, but she was so stubbornly keeping her eyes trained ahead. It was responsible, of course. She was driving. But not even a peek meant that she was intentionally avoiding looking over at him. The corners of his mouth turned downward, not quite understanding how this conversation had gone the way it had.

“Is that so? Please, tell me more,” he snickered. If there was anything that he knew, it was how to draw her back with teasing. She wouldn’t back down from a challenge, and Gwyneth Berdara was ruthless when it came to having the last word. The corner of her mouth twitched, and he knew she was doing her best not to smile.

“I hate you so much,” she huffed.

“Now, I don’t think that’s even remotely true.” He reached out to pinch the apple of her cheek, but she slapped his hand away, sending a glower that only made him laugh.

“The single ladies can have you. Maybe you’ll find someone else to annoy.”

“Aw, Gwynnie. You know nobody could ever replace you.” And even though it was in jest, it was also… true. “And what would you do without me?”

“Get some peace and quiet for once?” And when the redhead turned with that scrunched freckled nose and her tongue stuck out at him Azriel was relieved to have the playful girl – his best friend – wearing a smile again. “Now shut it or sing along, you have not been punished with nearly enough of our lady Taylor Swift.”

And so the ride continued, but Azriel chewed on his lower lip, contemplating everything Gwyn had said. She was fiercely independent, so he could understand how she might not want to accept what she might perceive as charity, or worse, pity. But the idea of her just not being there… it made something inside of him feel hollow. He reached out and turned down the volume again.

“Why wouldn’t you say anything? About where we’re going to dinner? Or about not being comfortable at big events?” He didn’t even try to hide that he was staring at her, trying to pinpoint any reaction she may have. Once again pink stained her cheeks.

“Az, it’s not like you guys are going to stop going to fancy restaurants so you can come to Wendy’s with me. I don’t want to take away from anyone’s fun.” Fucking ridiculous.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe we would have less fun without you there?” Azriel tried to keep his tone light, but his temper was flaring. He wasn’t sure why, but it bothered him that she would think she could just… not be there and they would all just go on like it didn’t matter.

“Of course I did,” Gwyn shrugged nonchalantly and threw him a wink. “I know it will be hard but I’m sure you’ll manage somehow. Besides, I don’t plan on just disappearing. I just… need to be more thoughtful about what I’m doing. I’ll just be around… less.” She turned the volume back up and jumped straight into the lyrics, not giving him the opportunity to tell her how preposterous she sounded.

Azriel leaned back in his seat, losing himself in thought with Gwyn’s lovely voice still soothing him in the background. He didn’t know how long he’d been brooding when the volume increased dramatically, blaring through the interior. Looking over he found her tapping on the steering wheel and swaying to the beat of her majesty Taylor Swift. Her eyes were shining, her smile was brilliant, and she sang like she didn’t have a care in the world.

You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset

She’s going off about something that you said

‘Cause she doesn’t get your humor like I do

I’m in my room, it’s a typical Tuesday night

I’m listening to the kind of music she doesn’t like

And she’ll never know your story like I do

But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts

She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers

Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

If you could see that I’m the one who understands you,

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

You belong with me

Walkin’ the streets with you and your worn-out jeans

I can’t help thinking this is how it ought to be

Laughing on a park bench, thinking to myself

Hey, isn’t this easy?

And you’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town

I haven’t seen it in awhile since she brought you down

You say you’re fine, I know you better than that

Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?

She wears high heels, I wear sneakers

She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers

Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

If you could see that I’m the one who understands you,

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

Standing by and waiting at your back door

All this time how could you not know, baby?

You belong with me

You belong with me

Azriel felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he was seeing Gwyn for the first time. Unbridled joy, laughter when she turned to him when she was singing, dancing in the driver’s seat like a passenger’s worst nightmare.

And he couldn’t help but listen to the words, too. Surely that part was coincidence, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was speaking to him… something was speaking to him.

He grinned as she shimmied her shoulders and rocked her head from side to side, wisps of copper flying away from her ponytail.

Oh, I remember you drivin’ to my house in the middle of the night

I’m the one who makes you laugh even though you’re ‘bout to cry

I know your favorite songs and you tell me ‘bout your dreams

Think I know where you belong, think I know it’s with me

Can’t you see that I’m the one that understands you

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

Standing by and waiting at your back door

All this time, how could you not know baby?

You belong with me

You belong with me

You belong with me

Have you ever thought just maybe

You belong with me

You belong with me

“Gosh I think I went too hard on that one. I’m out of breath!” she laughed, and she glanced toward Azriel in the passenger seat. “Have you had enough yet, Az?”

“Never,” he murmured, and her breath caught. She turned her focus back to the road, but kept stealing looks back at him. She seemed unsure of how to respond, but he was also lost in his own head.

He didn’t want to be the eligible bachelor. He didn’t want to annoy anyone else. He knew that he had cared for Gwyn as more than a friend for a long time – Nesta and Cassian had always encouraged him to do something about it. Nesta in particular had assured him that Gwyn felt the same way. But no matter how much Azriel had flirted she never seemed to acknowledge it, never seemed inclined to do something about it. They bantered and challenged and laughed, but never more.

But Nesta continued to be insistent. She told Azriel that there were some things about Gwyn that might keep her from acting upon her affection for him, and maybe he should make the first move. He never had, of course, for fear of rejection and fear of ruining the relationship that they had.

But now suddenly he was looking at a future where she wasn’t always there. He didn’t like the thought of that. He would go to Wendy’s for dinner instead of whatever black-tie restaurant had their reservation. But, furthermore, he would take care of her, like Cassian took care of Nesta. He wouldn’t go to events without her, and he would make sure that she was comfortable and safe while she was there. Because he would keep her close. He would always keep her close.

By the time Gwyn was pulling the car onto the driveway leading to the cabin she was only singing quietly to herself and letting him sit in his own silent thought. And as soon as she parked and turned off the car he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Without a word he ripped off the seatbelt and burst out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He was already crossing across the front when Gwyn popped out.

“What the hell, Az? The car is 16 years old you can’t just slam doors like that –“

Azriel grabbed the back of her neck and crushed his lips to hers. Gods, they were perfect – warm and lush. She inhaled shakily against his mouth and he tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. He swept his lips across hers once again before pulling away only slightly, resting his forehead against her own. They were both breathing hard, and her expression nearly sent him to his knees. Gwyn’s teal eyes were wide, shining with surprise and confusion. Her lips were swollen and her freckled cheeks stained crimson. Azriel wasn’t going to give himself enough time to question this, though.

“You’re coming to the gala,” he insisted, gaze flitting wildly between her lips and her eyes before drowning in the ocean pools. “I’m buying your ticket. On our way home after this weekend we’ll go shopping for a dress. And no matter what you wear you will be the most exquisite thing there.”

Gwyn looked up at him, chest still heaving and eyes still wide, and nodded.

“And you’re coming to every dinner and event and anything else after that. Because, no matter what you might think, I don’t want to be there if you’re not there.”

“Az –“

“And when you’re there, you won’t think about money or crowds. Because I’ll be there. I’m going to take care of you and make sure you’re safe. Because I don’t just want you to be there with all of us. I want you to be there with me. Okay, Gwyn?” His eyes bore into hers, willing her to understand, to see what was in his heart.

“Okay,” she nodded. Her breaths had quieted, her eyes were warm, and there was a ghost of a smile there. And Azriel dared to hope that Nesta had been right, and all he’d needed was to take the leap.

“Can I kiss you again, Gwyn?” he asked.

“Please,” she giggled at him, smile widening. He leaned in, this time with much more restraint and care, slanting his lips over her soft ones and gently moving against them. When he pulled away his face was plastered with a shit-eating grin, which grew impossibly bigger when he saw her blushing.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he laughed, still not believing that he had done all that, and that it had… worked?

“I… I’ve wanted you to do that for a long time.” Gwyn sighed and then dragged her bottom lip between her teeth. “So… so just to be clear. You want me… to be…?” Azriel chuckled and ran his hands down her arms and then tangling their fingers together.

“I want to date you. I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t want to aggravate any other single ladies. I don’t want to be an eligible bachelor. I just want you. We can go to fancy dinners or charity events or the finest fast food restaurants in the metropolitan area.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and then kissed her cheek. “Will you?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Of course, Az.” He bent his head and kissed her again. He couldn’t get enough of it. It was like he was making up for lost time.

“As her holy highness Taylor Swift said, you belong with me,” Azriel grinned devilishly. “I can’t help but be suspicious that you planned that… planned to make me fall for your beautiful voice and how adorable you are.” Gwyn tilted her head back and laughed, nearly a cackle full of amusement and contentment.

“I did not plan it, but I’m not going to complain about how it turned out.”

[yunhoiseyecandy]

✕ 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞; 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬

✕ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

✕ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫!𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 ◆ 𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✕ 𝐰/𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 𝟐.𝟗𝐤

✕ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

[𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭] @little-precious-baby , @multidreams-and-desires , @hanatiny , @latte-fairytaekwoon , @cloudyyeonnie

─────

no matter how many times he’s been on stage, adrenaline rushing through his veins, the high of it all never gets old.

and he can’t bear thinking of the day it all ends.

he remembers the first time he ever picked up a guitar, the way the tips of his fingers brushed against the rough cords as he strummed to the beat. it was something that came so natural to him, and he knew at that moment, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he hummed, this was meant to be.

it’s been almost seven years since that day, and his heart still swells whenever he thinks about how he felt. it was amazing, but it’d been hard to try and convince his parents to allow him to play, let alone buy him his own instrument.

hongjoong chuckles at the old memories, and he finds it hard to believe that he was once a fifteen-year-old boy who begged his parents to let him do what he loved, hot, wet tears running down his cheeks as he pleaded on his knees.

he loved his parents, and to see them disagree with something that meant so much to him crushed him. they used to push for him to study harder in school, beg his teachers for extra credit so he could have even a slim chance at passing the class, but that simply wasn’t who he was meant to be.

he used to be a more than acceptable student, but since he started playing in a small band that had been formed by a few friends of him, he couldn’t focus on anything but the music he adored.

music was his drug, and it would be difficult to put him in rehab. eventually, though, his parents had chosen their son over school work and caved in. that christmas they had gotten him his favorite guitar, and he can still feel the smoothness of the mahogany as he ran his fingers over it.

he’d grown greatly since then, but the rush he still gets is the only thing that hasn’t changed since.

this was who he was meant to be, and he knew that nothing else could compare. he was more than proud of himself for choosing this career path, and he knew it’s the only thing he could do best.

that’s why he always put his all into every performance, head moving to the beat while he sang his heart out till it was hard to breath. and tonight was no different, especially since he had one of the biggest record labels in his country out in the crowd, scouting for the next best performer

—

“we’re up in five, man.” san said loud enough so the rest of the group could hear. hongjoong blocked out everyone, his fingers brushing over the strings as he sang the lyrics to their song under his breath over and over again.

they couldn’t afford to screw up this gig, and it was already going to be a challenge since they had one of their group members, seonghwa, out with a cold. he was the main drummer, so they had to call for backup if they wanted any chance of success tonight.

hongjoong twisted the cap off his water bottle and took a sip before groaning, “fuck. if I keep messing up this note we’re gonna be screwed.” he’d always had trouble with that certain line, but it always got to him right before they were up.

san laughed, “yeah, well whose fault is that for not coming to practice on time?” mingi looked over to him before bursting out laughing, but it soon faded when he saw the look on hongjoong’s face. “sorry, but it’s true!”

sure, they’d all been friends for years now, but that didn’t change how annoying san and mingi could be sometimes. seonghwa really needed to get better, or hongjoong would end up losing his mind.

“doesn’t matter,” he tossed his bottle into the recycling bin, “it’s not like I’m just sitting around when I don’t show up.”

“dude, we’re just messing with you. we all know you’re the try hard amongst us three.” this time it was san who lost it at mingi’s words, both the boys heads thrown back onto the couch as they held their stomachs.

“fuck you.” was all hongjoong could say, knowing damn well they would just look at him and continue to giggle like children if he tries to defend himself. he sighed, looking to his wrist watch and then standing up to collect his belongings.

it was now time to perform, and he was more then excited as he walked out onto the stage, his bandmates following right behind him. hongjoong never really knew why he got stage fright, especially considering how many gigs they’ve had in the past.

he’s done this before, but something told him tonight was going to be different. and that eerie feeling didn’t pass on, not even when he went on stage and played like it was his last. his heart felt like it would burst through his chest at any moment, and he loved the way it made him feel.

he could taste the sweat that ran down his face and over his lips as his tongue ran over them, but he had to ignore the saltiness of it and focus on what lyric came next. 

“you say you don’t want me but you always come crawling back,”

“I’m like your drug call me your dealer I’ll give you that,”

“I’m not your baby, don’t make it seem like we’re reserved,”

“you broke my heart and I learned my worth fuckin’ try hard.”

he looked over to mingi after he sang the last word, his hands gripping the white microphone as he smirked. mingi’s hair was damp, and hongjoong assumed he’d taken a water bottle and poured it over his head after his drums solo was over.

it was a signature move that made the crowd go wild, and the red head did it at almost all of their performances. they’d done it since the beginning, as all of their fans seemed to love it.

they watched as the people in front of them threw their hands up in they air as their bodies jumped up and down, and hongjoong smiled fondly as he watched the lightsticks they had around their necks glow. 

this environment, the setting, it made him fill with joy. and maybe it was the red t-shirt you had on that was different from the rest of the crowd that made his eyes meet yours, or it just might’ve been fate, but he couldn’t seem to pull his focus away from you no matter how hard he tried.

that is, until san wrapped his arm around him and bowed towards the hundreds of people they gave their thanks to. “c’mon, it’s time to go now man.”

—

“okay let me get this straight,” your friend mia started, taking a fast swig of her martini. “hongjoong, kim fucking hongjoong, locked eyes with you?” 

you knew you must’ve sounded crazy when you told her, but you saw what you saw. “yeah, I know. sounds stupid, right?” you ran a hand through your hair as you sighed, and you couldn’t believe your own words. 

you’d been waiting months to go to one of their concerts, let alone be close enough to the stage to be able to breath the same air as them. and to have one of the members actually acknowledge you existed had over the moon. 

you can still feel the way heat crept onto your cheeks when he bit his lip, your eyes wide when he winked your way. it felt like the whole world stopped for a moment, surreal, almost. you hated how easily he got to you, too, like he knew just a smirk or a smile would make you a mess.

and it was right. because as soon as you left the venue, your legs feeling like jello as you ran to the restroom, your lace underwear was a mess that only proved how sensitive you could be.

and that only made you wonder if the small exchange you two shared made hongjoong feel the same way. 

but all your thoughts and curiosities stopped when you the hotel door slid open and revealed the man you were just thinking about, his two friends and many people with cameras trailing behind him.

“is it true you have a new solo song coming up in the next week?!” one reporter shouted towards mingi. “are you three planning to split up soon like the rumors have stated?!” san huffed as he pulled his hoodie over his face, pushing hongjoong and the taller boy forward and near some stools at the bar.

they were all relieved when security came out of the elevator and blocked the rest of the paparazzi outside the building, preventing any more unwanted people from coming in.

“I love performing, but trying to go home and sleep can be so fucking tiring.” hongjoong said, running his hand through his messy dark blue hair. san and mingi nodded, and they waved over a bar tender to order a round of beers.

“tell me about it, they just always act like they’re about to attack us or some shit,” mingi huffed, “I’m so exhausted.” it was normal for mingi to get tired and anxious after a long day, but san and hongjoong knew it would be best if he went up and slept as soon as he could.

it had been hard for the younger one ever since he’d needed a break due to anxiety, so they were careful nowadays not to push him to his limit. they cared for each other, and seeing one of their own feeling down was never a good sight. “you should go up to your room, mingi.”

san hummed, agreeing with hongjoong as he took a sip of his beer. “yeah, we’ll check up on you later.”

mingi new better than to argue with them, so he stood up and fixed his leather jacket, telling him he’d order room service and then go to sleep. “see you guys later then.”

your eyes fixed themselves on mingi as he took the elevator up, hands shaky and clammy as you realized who the two guys in front of you were. “mia, you s-see them too, right?”

her mouth was open wide when you looked over to her, and you could tell she was speechless. you tried to regain your compose and took a sip of your drink, trying everything to try and get your senses back.

she saw what you were doing and played along, realizing you wanted nothing more than to crawl up in a ball and scream into a pillow. “so.. how’s school?”

you two bursted out laughing at her words, but your knee hit the counter and both san and hongjoong looked up at you. san looked away when he saw you were okay, but hongjoong’s gaze didn’t leave yours after he recognized you as the girl from the concert. 

“shit, he’s looking at you, y/n.” you focused your eyes on the glass in front of you, toying with the hem of your shirt as you let out a shaky breath. “shut up or they’ll hear us-”

“oh, you’re the girl from the concert, right?”

—

you didn’t even know how you were in this position, his lips smashed against yours in a hot and steamy kiss as you ground your bodies into each other. but you were. 

so for now, the only thing on your mind was how his hand felt between your thighs, thumb brushing over your clit and making your legs want to give out soon.

your back arched against the door when you felt his lips ghost over your collarbone, and you could feel his lip piercing against your skin as it burned. “ngh, hongjoong,”

your clothes had been discarded long ago, only your white lace that was now soaked through on, and hongjoong still had his black ripped jeans on along with his white t-shirt. he moved you to sit on his bed, “lay back for me princess, I wanna make you feel good.”

you did as he told, sitting up on your elbows so you could watch him. his tongue swept up and down your left thigh as his fingers toyed with you over your panties., “please, just do something already..”

he smirked and gave a sharp squeeze to your other thigh, “patience, baby.” you felt him drag his lips up your body, taking his time to place wet kisses across your stomach and over your hip bones. “I bet you taste amazing.”

you groaned at his words, pulling him up to you by the nape of his neck and you crashed your lips together. he swiped his tongue over yours, groaning into your mouth as he did so. “then taste me.”

you didn’t have to say it again, and he trailed his way down your body while his fingers pulled your underwear down your legs, tossing them on the floor. you watched as he spread your legs wide for him, and you could’ve come right them and there just from the sight of his head in between your thighs.

“so pretty,” his arms wrapped around you, nails digging into the skin of your waist. his eyes didn’t leave yours when he licked a long stripe up your pussy, taking his time to swirl his tongue around your clit before sucking it into his mouth.

you couldn’t help it as you reached down to grip his hair, and he moaned into you when he felt his scalp burn as you tugged. “fuck, you feel so good joongie.”

all his fans called him by that nickname, so he’s not exactly sure why it felt different when you said it. it came out like a whine, and he felt his boxers get tighter and tighter with each passing second. “tell me how much you want me, y/n.”

“I want you so bad,” you whispered into his ear after he crawled his way back up your body. “I want you to fuck me until I’m screaming your name.”

he tugged his underwear down and slid them off, placing lingering kisses on your neck as he teased you with the tip of his cock. “you want me, princess? want me to have my way with you, make you come over and over again,” his breath fanned your ear, “make your cum mess up the sheets while I keep you quiet with my hand around your throat?”

you couldn’t help the borderline pornographic moan that slipped past your lips at his words, or the way your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. he placed an open mouthed kiss on your lips, shaking his head lightly before pulling away from your body. “nah ah, baby. I wanna slap that pretty ass you have while I fuck you,” without warning, he pulled you to the edge of the bed and flipped you over, pushing his hand on the small of your back. “good girl.”

your nails scratched at the fabric beneath you, pushing your ass out and groaning when he spread your legs apart. he grabbed himself and dragged his cock up and down your pussy, and he swore he’d never been harder.

you couldn’t believe this was happening right now. one of your favorite artists is about to fuck you dumb, and all because you both so happened to stay at the same hotel for one night.

“you’re so wet, y/n. fucking soaking for me.” he leaned down to bite your ear before pushing himself in you with one single thrust. he didn’t move, and you assumed he wanted to give you time to adjust. “beg for it, baby.” and only if it was that easy.

the way you screamed for him to fuck you, and all while his hand was secured tightly around your throat. 

the way your brain was starting to get fuzzy, only thoughts of how good he felt inside of you present.

the way he would land a harsh slap to your ass if you tried to muffle your moans. 

the way he would groan or hiss whenever you clenched tightly around his cock.

it was all too fucking much

but you completely lost all your senses when he pushed down on the small of your back while he fucked into you, and you swore you could feel him in places you didn’t even know existed. “r-right there, fuck!”

he was panting, and in that moment he knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing. it felt different, almost too good to give up. he knew you were his new drug, and rehab would be a bitch if he wanted to quit.

his hand squeezed one last time, halting the breath you were ready to take. you felt your nails tear the bed sheets below you as you came, and you could feel his cum fill you up as it spilled out and onto the cloth under you. 

after he pulled out, he kissed up your back and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’ll go get the bath ready.”

and that’s when you knew, he was way more than just some boy in a band.

─────

[aurora-daily]

You Don’t Need A Cure For Yourself! – Norwegian Pop-Star Aurora On Songwriting, Self-Doubt, And Community

Interview by Laura Gruebler for TITLE Magazine (August 14th, 2021).

If you haven’t heard about Aurora yet, you will surely recognise her song “Runaway”. Although this single was released back in 2015, it was only this year it gained massive popularity. “Runaway” has gone viral on Tik Tok and Instagram and is accordingly to Spotify amongst the top 50 TikTok songs of 2021.

However, this young singer/songwriter from Norway is more than just a one hit wonder. Aurora is a promising talent for songwriting and composing. In addition to that, her open mind, and sympathetic character enabled her to establish a loyal and ever growing fan base. In our interview we got to know this musician from a very personal side and she ceratinly gained some new supporters.

How are you today? What does a typical day in your life look like right now?

I’m fine, thanks for asking. It’s a bit of both, I’m a lot in the studio, but I just finished my album that is coming out soon, so I’m having a tiny holiday, which has been great. But yeah, it’s busy but fun. I’m very excited about what’s coming.

(The pandemic has been challenging for everybody differently. How did you experience lockdown? Did it have any impact on your creativity?)

Personally, I have quite enjoyed being forced by the virus to be more inside and to be less social. I do enjoy that kind of lifestyle, I like being home and alone. But of course it is a different experience when you know you don’t have any other choice. But I’ve enjoyed the space and the time. It’s been great for my creativity, I’ve been creating quite a lot. But of course, I’ve been sad on behalf of the world and the people. It’s been sad and equally healing. I’ve been very lucky, although I couldn’t work as much or go on tour.

What inspires you? How do you decide what to write about?

It can come very suddenly, very out of the blue and I’ll know when it’s the perfect line. I also always have long album titles, which just happen to me and from there I get very inspired and know what I’m going to do. For example, for the album that I just finished now, I knew the title last year in January, and then I started writing for it.

I always write a song with a mission to fit into a new story. It’s like every song is a new chapter of a book. And the meaning is very important, instinctive, and driven by my heart.

What makes a good song? What is more important: melody and instruments or lyrics and meaning?

Meaning always comes first, and often the melody. Or the title, I often begin with the title actually. I know my record name and the vision before I start writing for it. I like to write conceptually.

Your only Norwegian song “Stjernestøv” which means stardust has been quite successful in your home county. Why did you decide to write and perform mainly in English?

I love to read, it’s my favorite thing in the world. But it breaks my heart that I’ll never get to read many of them in their original language. And I guess I’d suggest always writing in your mother tongue but it’s so sad that someone else then has to translate. And I feel like it’s the same with my songs. I want as many people as possible to be able to understand my music in the way I write it. English is a more direct and universal language.

What makes a good music video? Your recent song release “Cure For Me” comes with a really fun video. Do you have any impact on the outcome – what is important to you to communicate with your visuals?

I am very inspired by the visual world. And I guess people are more used to understanding visual things and pictures in comparison to sound. We need to work harder to understand just sound. I love to take on the opportunity and create a video for each of my singles and take care of how people perceive my songs. It’s one of my favorite things to do. It’s so fun. I love hiding details and clues in my videos. And my fans are so clever – they always figure out what things mean or guess what my next song will be.

You have uploaded a tutorial for the dance moves in “Cure For Me”. Is dancing something you like to express yourself with?

I love dancing. My favorite thing is going to rave parties and dancing until the next morning. It’s the best thing ever. I think we’re meant to dance and shake our bodies way more than we do. I can’t understand people who can resist dancing. It doesn’t even have to look good, it should just feel liberating.

At TITLE Magazine we focus on being true to yourself and your True Identity. Have you found your True Identity yet? How would you describe it?

Yes, I think I have found my True Identity. I feel very grounded in myself and I feel very grounded on this Earth. I feel very connected to the ground and my place in this world. So my True Identity is a very grounded and calm one. Luckily, it’s been like that for a little while now.

“Cure For Me” basically has the message to not doubt yourself, and love yourself regardless. No one needs a cure for themselves, no matter what other people say. Have you experienced any negativity towards yourself before? How did you deal with it?

I haven’t experienced it much in comparison to others. I was teased in school because I dressed quite strangely and I guess I act differently. I didn’t feel very connected to other people. I struggled with finding a sense of belonging in a group at school or within the system. But now, I’ve really found my place. And my fans helped a lot to show that I can be connected to so many people out there in the world, however, not in my neighborhood in the countryside.

I spent a lot of time in nature, which made me gain energy, but I often disappeared again when I entered a room with other people in it. I didn’t like people so much when I was younger. And this feeling you are not the same as the people around you goes into this feeling that something is wrong with you instead of accepting the differences.

What advice would give others that are being told they are not good enough or doubt themselves?

The little box that has been put out in front of us is so small and the world is telling us that we have to fit in this box – this pattern of behavior, this way of looking, being, loving, or you’re not going to be accepted. It’s a very narrow whole we are supposed to fit into and it simply doesn’t make sense. It’s very soul strangling. And if you worry about fitting in, think of how little your perspective is and how little you actually see, and how little you have left to actually experience life and yourself in this world.  So, it really doesn’t matter what the world or our parents or even ourselves think of us. We can be our harshest critics. It can be so difficult to love ourselves but it really shouldn’t matter to fit in this useless box.

Since the kickstart of your career and the successful release of your EP “Running With The Wolves” in 2015, you have been doing some great performances and achieved some amazing things. What is your personal highlight of your career so far?

I am very proud of my community. But I am also scared by it. I don’t like the idea of worshiping one single person so much. It’s not natural. But I feel like I have a different relationship with my fans. It’s based on mutual respect and admiration. They opened my eyes to how beautiful the world is and made me believe in mankind again. It’s the best gift I could ever get in life.

The highlight of my career is realizing how much we can do, or use our voices to speak up against the wrong, and loudly about love. It’s so beautiful and powerful. And change can only be done with many people standing together.

How do you percieve community online? How do you feel about virality and hype on Tik Tok and Instagram?

I guess it’s the same online as well. I think of every person as a single human being sitting at home. The people I want to reach the most are the people that are most isolated and lonely. I am a big fan of the online community and I find it magical that we’re all connected. I don’t care too much about the numbers of streams etc. It doesn’t seem to make anyone, including me, happy. Maybe for like a moment in which I’m joyfully surprised but then it’s over. It’s so short living.

[jadedxrealityw]

-Evermore- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

    ♡~🐍~♡

   Summary: The wizarding war is starting and your family fears for their safety. Even though they were purebloods, they were not death-eaters. They decide to flee to america, but you, unlike them have someone to lose by leaving.

   Kody: The song this image is based off of. Evermore by Dan Stevens (From the Beauty And The Beast 2017 Movie)

   Year: 7th

   House: Slytherin

   Possible Triggers/Warnings: some angst, cursing i think?

    ♡~🐍~♡

   when you were 13 you had the displeasure of meeting Draco Malfoy. Just transferring from America had been a big change for you, but you were ready to take on the challenge of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. That was until you bumped into him.

   you hit somebody’s chest with a harsh thud “Watch where your bloody going!” someone shouted at you. You step back and meet the cold grey eyes off a pale boy. “Excuse me?” you said, slightly taken aback by his loud shouting. The boy had an amused grin on his face.

   ‘I was the one who had it all. I was the master of my fate’

   “do i need to repeat myself? Watch where you're going? Who even are you? You sound american” he crosses his arms over his chest. You raise a brow ‘who does he think he is?’ you thought. “I’m Y/n L/n from ilvermorny. I just transferred here today so i am in fact American.” 

   his grin didn’t falter in the slightest “What’s your blood status?” he asked. You almost gasped. Why did he need to know that at all. You keep your composure this time putting on a grin of your own. “and why does that matter in the slightest?” you question. 

   “Because, i’m Draco Malfoy, pureblood and i shouldn’t be wasting my time with anyone less” he spoke with such smugness that you wanted to punch him right then and there. You put on a fake pout before answering “It’s to bad that i don’t care about blood status then huh?”

   with those words you pushed past him and his trio of friends, leaving him in your metaphorical dust. As you walked away Draco watched your every movement. He was captivated by the way you stood up for yourself. It was different. It was exciting. 

   “I remember now! She’s from the american pureblood family. The L/n’s!” Theo shouted with a proud smile at his memory. Draco looked at him with a surprised expression “Really? Why didn’t she just tell me that then?” he replied, slightly irritated.

   “because she was messing with you and you walked right into, Malfoy” Pansy rolls her eyes “I swear boys are so stupid” scoffing she began walking to class. Blaise and Theo following after her. Draco just sighed very loudly “Oh so now i’m the bad guy!”

    ♡~🐍~♡

    ‘I never needed anybody in my life. I learned the truth too late’

   the next week during potions class Draco was visibly struggling with a potion he had been working on all class and if he didn’t get it done before the end of the session he would fail. “That doesn’t look quite right” a voice said from beside him. He looks over to see you, standing behind him.

   “Shove off L/n and mind your own potion” he hissed, each word laced with venom. What a Slytherin am i right? “I’m already finished, i think you missed an ingredient” you say, leaning over to look at his potion. He uses his free hand to push your head away “I don’t need anything else, it has to be perfect.Now leave”

   he watches you place something next to his cauldron and walk away to your own desk. He gazes over at what you had left. Unicorn hair? hes hesitant, but picks it up then drops it in the cauldron. He watches the potion change to the right color and smiles to himself.

   he looks over at you and you give him a small wink before going back to your potion. Maybe you weren’t that bad, but he’d never say that out loud.

    ♡~🐍~♡

    ‘I'll never shake away the pain’

   fast forward to 4th year, yule ball is upon Draco and he came alone. Pansy was taking Ginny and Blaise was taking Theo. As he stood at the entrance of the ball he felt a presence to his left “Did Draco Malfoy come alone to the ball?” a teasing, familiar tone said.

    ‘I close my eyes but she's still there’

   he rolled his eyes and prepared a witty comeback, but all words left him once he saw you in a beautiful black dress. “Have i left you speechless?” you ask, stifling laughter. He regains his composure somehow and grins “Didn’t you come alone as well, why? Did no one ask you?” he teased.

   you shake your head “No actually three seperate boys asked me. I just said no” you say simply, catching Draco off guard. “Really? Why?” he questions, He watches as you sigh deeply “Because i was waiting for you to ask me of course. Now do you want to dance?”

  ‘I let her steal into my melancholy heart’

   Draco stood in shock before he felt you grab his hand, leading him to the middle of the dance floor. “Unless you don’t want to of course?” you tilt your head to the side. He shakes his head a bit before placing his hands on your waist. A strange feeling envelops his chest.   

   you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a warm smile “You seem frightened by me?” you ask, unsure of your own question. He shakes his head quickly “No!- no i’m not, it’s just- thank you for saving me from the embarrassment of going alone. I don’t want people to think im-” he admits.

   "a loser?” you finish his sentence. He chuckles at your answer “Yeah, something like that” he responds, his tone sadder then before. You shrug your shoulders at his statement “I wouldn’t think your a loser. I’d still like you” you spoke confidently.

   his grey eyes widened as you said those three words to him.

    ‘It's more than I can bear’

   and he ran away...

    ♡~🐍~♡

   weeks had past and students were now leaving the train to meet up with their parents for the summer. Draco hadn’t spoken to you at all. He was to scared to admit his own feelings to you. It was a coward move sure, but it was better than having to look at your bright E/c eyes and fall even more.

   Draco was holding his luggage in one hand when he bumped into someone “Oh my, i’m so sorry” and there was the familiar voice again. His eyes locked with yours “Hey Y/n” he said. You scoff and place your luggage down, turning your body towards his.

   “you leave me on the dance floor and reject me in the most rude way possible and all you say is ‘Hey Y/n’ if you were that disgusted by me Draco Malfoy, you could have just said so!” you shouted at him, he could see the tears brimming through the same E/c eyes he had seen so many times before. 

   he felt his world shatter a tiny bit at your outburst “No that’s not it at all. No one has ever liked me before okay?! It’s different. Especially when i like them back” it was your turn to be surprised this time. “Oh...you do?” you say, wondering if your ears had been playing tricks on you. 

   Draco nods slowly “Yes, i like you Y/n and i’m sorry for the way i acted at the yule ball” he says genuinely, no trace of mischief in his eyes. The corners of your mouth turn upward in a smile “Apology accepted” you nod once. He copies your smile.

   “so what does that make us?” he asked. You roll your eyes “It makes us boyfriend and girlfriend Draco. That means i am yours and you are mine, got it?” you state, pointing a finger at him. He grins lightly and nods “I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

   ‘Now I know she'll never leave me’

   you smile up at him before your eyes looked at something behind him. “Oh that’s my parents! I have to go, but i’ll write you!” you force each word out quickly then stand on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek. You give him one last smile before picking up your luggage shouting mom and dad.

   ‘Even as she runs away’

   Draco turns behind him to watch as you walked away with your parents, his hand reaching up to touch the cheek you had left a kiss on. He felt his mind go fuzzy as the tingling feeling still lingered on his kiss. He let out a deep sigh “She’ll be the absolute death of me, that’s for sure”

   ‘She will still torment me’

    ♡~🐍~♡

   the month you two spent apart was one of the worst feelings Draco had ever felt. Now that you two were together, he had this nagging feeling of always wanting to hold you and just be by you in anyway. He didn’t know he could become so attached to someone. 

   after one night he had a fight with his father he stormed up to his room, slamming the door. He tried to calm himself down, but it was no use. The anger just wouldn’t subside. That was until a soft knock came to his door “Draco, honey. A letter came for you. From someone named Y/n L/n?”

   Draco quickly opened his door. Narcissa handed him the letter and turned on her heels to walk down the hall. He closed his door again and rushed over to his bed. He opens the letter, your handwriting was so unique. With each word he read, the angered feeling drained away and a comforting one replaced it.

    ‘Calm me,  hurt me’

   he did scowl at the small section of you berated him on how he should of sent a letter first, but he also found it quite cute. He collected each one of your letters after that. He kept them in a black wooden chest that he hid under his bed. They became his cherished memories. 

   ‘Move me, come what may. Wasting in my lonely tower’

   he wished that he could have spent that summer with you instead...

   ♡~🐍~♡

    ‘Waiting by an open door’

   his leg wouldn’t stop shaking, he was going to see you again and it was the start of his fifth year and whatever, but that wasn’t on his mind at the moment. He was sitting in the Slytherin cabin of the train, waiting for you to step on. His mind was racing in two different directions.

    ‘I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in’

   while waiting his mind had convinced myself that she was actually a figment of his screwed up imagination and he was a fool for waiting for her, but after realizing that even thinking that was the truth was mental he calmed down quite a bit. 

   “Draco?” that familiar voice spoke. He looks up to meet your E/c eyes once again. He jumps up from his seat and wraps his arms around you tightly. You stumble on your feet a bit, but hold onto him as well. “Happy to see you too?” you say with a small laugh.

   “please don’t ever go on vacation for the summer again, i couldn’t handle it”he breathed out into your ear. You smile and pat his back “Okay i won’t you big baby” he pulls away and pecks your lips quickly, your face flushing. He grins a bit at your reaction. “Your lucky i like you Draco Malfoy”

   ‘And be with me for evermore’

    ♡~🐍~♡

   ‘I rage against the trials of love. I curse the fading of the light’

   they were 16, it’s been a year since they started dating and Draco was, to put in simple terms. Losing. His. Shit. Not only did he have the dark lord’s orders to fulfill, you were coming over tonight and he was going to tell you those three terrifying words. 

   his thoughts could no longer race as a knock came to his bedroom door “Draco?” oh shit. You were here. He takes a deep breath before going over and opening the door. He instantly wraps his arms around your waist “hello darling” he says in a breathy tone before leaning down to kiss your lips.

   “hmm, hi” you say in between kisses. “I can’t believe your mom said yes to me sleeping over” Draco leads you into his room, shutting the door. He shrugs “Mother knows how much you mean to me so” he trails off at the end. You nod “Yeah i am your girlfriend, so it makes sense”

   ‘Though she's already flown so far beyond my reach’

   “yeah, but your so much more to me” he says, his tone becoming serious. You chuckle nervously at his change of demeanour “Okay..” he lets out a deep sigh “oh merlin, i’m trying to say i love you Y/n. i’m in love with you. Like stupidly in love with you and you say boys are stupid”

   a smile grows on your face before you wack his arm with your hand “Ow!” “Next time just say that you goof. I love you too Draco” you exclaim. He chuckles before scooping you back into his arms and both of you share a sweet kiss. 

    ♡~🐍~♡

   now. 7th year. With the wizardry war starting and people choosing sides. Things were getting chaotic and fast. “Y/n pack your things quickly, were leaving!” your mother shouted from the living room. You rush downstairs in a haste “What do you mean were leaving!?”

   your mother turns to you with a horrified expression “the sacred 28 are coming. There going to try and convert us to death eaters. Were leaving for America now!” she shouts. You shake you head rapidly “But Draco- i can’t leave him!”

   “He’s a death eater Y/n. I know you love him darling, but he chose his side” she spoke in a comforting tone, but you didn’t find it comforting at all. Pulling out your wand you apparate away. Leaving your mother in shock. Where had you gone.

   ♡~🐍~♡

    ‘She's never out of sight’

   a there you were. Standing in Draco’s room. He looked away from the window and to you “Y/n? You can’t be here. Love. you have to leave” he spoke in a hushed tone as he walked towards you, grasping your shoulders. “I know Draco, i know your a death eater”

   his grey eyes were filled with shame, looking away from you “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my choice Y/n you have to believe me. It was my fathers idea i swear on everything” the way he spoke was enough to convince you. “I believe you Draco. I do” he lets out a sigh of relief “Thank merlin”

   “my family is fleeing to America. The sacred 28 are coming to my house right now to give me the mark” his eyes were no longer shameful, but terrified. “You have to go then” he said, cupping your face with his hands “I can’t-” “-Yes you can. Love, your not safe here”

   “I don’t care. I can’t leave you Draco. It would be too painful” you spoke, tears starting to water in your eyes. He nods slowly “I know, but as soon as this mess is over you can come find me again. I’ll be waiting at my front door for you. I promise”

   you look down, refusing to meet his gaze as tears began to stream down your cheeks “Promise me Y/n” he says more sternly. You hesitantly look up at him “I promise” you nod, putting your hands over his. “I love you Y/n L/n” he chokes out. “I love you too Draco Malfoy-”

   “-I had a feeling you’d be here” a voice came from the doorway. Narcissa Malfoy. Draco lets go of you and pushes you behind him “Mother please” he begged. Narcissa waved her hand “There’s no need for that Draco, come along Y/n so i can sneak you out. They’ll know if you apparate”

    ‘Now I know she'll never leave me’

   “Your not going to tell the dark lord?” you asked, holding onto Draco’s arm. Narcissa simply smiled and shook her head “I could never do that to you or my son, now we must leave at once” she held out her hand for you. You look at Draco before letting go of him.

    ‘Even as she fades from view’     

   “Make me a promise as well. In the end you’ll choose the right side in the end” you say/ He nods slowly “Anything for you” he spoke, giving you a smile that you return. Narissa grabs your hand and leads you out the room, closing the door. He waits a couple minutes before looking out his window.

   he saw his mother leading you out the Manor. She seemed to say something to you before placing something in your palm. She gives you a kiss on your head before you apparate away. At that moment, his whole world had shattered. You were gone. Really gone. 

       ♡~🐍~♡

    ‘She will still inspire me. Be a part of everything I do’

   and he kept his promise. At the day of the final battle when Harry Potter fell out of Hagrid’s arms. He ran towards him and threw his wand at him before leaving the scene completely. He hoped his mother wouldn’t worry to much about his whereabouts, but when Harry finally defeated the dark lord. He smiled.

   he couldn’t wait to see you again. After charges were being dealt to his parents Draco and his mother were pardoned of all crimes due to there help towards Harry and his friends. For once he thank Potter for speaking for him at his trial. He wasn’t such a bad guy.

    ‘Wasting in my lonely tower’

   it had been days since the war was over and there was still no word from you. It had been months without contact and you were no where to be found. He went by your old house. Empty. Not a single witch or wizard to be seen. Had you moved on?

    ‘Waiting by an open door. I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in’

   like he promised, every morning, afternoon, and night. He wait by his door for an hour. Waiting for you to walk down the Manor path so he could wrap you in his arms again and feel your familiar warmth again, but a week had gone by and nothing, but he wouldn’t lose hope. 

   ‘And as the long, long nights begin. I'll think of all that might have been’

   he started waiting longer at the door. One hour turned to three. Narcissa had became worried about her sons health. So she made sure that he ate and drank enough water. Even help him to bed when he passed out leaning on the doorframe. Which he did. A lot.

       ♡~🐍~♡

   three weeks. Nothing. The early morning shift that day he wore his night clothes as he sat on the concrete. He had his face in his hands, rubbing away any tired feeling he had. “Draco?” his whole body froze like ice. He prayed that it wasn’t the tiredness as he looked up.

   there you were. A small smile on your face as you stared down at him. He leaped off the ground and grabbed your face “What took you so bloody long?!” he shouts. “I had to wait until i turned 18 so i could leave. My mom tried to keep us apart, but it’s okay. I’m here now”

   he nods vigorously. “You are. Your here” he smashes his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. It lasts a couple seconds before you pull away “Your mom gave me this by the way” you pull a silver ring out your pocket. It had a small black diamond on it. “My mother's engagement ring?” 

   you chuckle “That makes a lot of sense now. she told me to give this to you to give to me when we see each other again” his face flushes slightly as he takes it from your hand “After you leaving me for a month. I never want to lose you again. will you possibly, maybe, marry me?”

   he looked unsure of your answer. “Of course you goof. Gosh, boys are so stupid” you say and hold out your hand. He grabs it and slides the ring on your finger. he gives you the brightest smile “I love you Draco Malfoy”

   “I love you too Y/n Malfoy”

   ‘Waiting here for evermore’

    ♡~🐍~♡

   Kody- 4am, sleep now. scoliosis hurting. Anyways, peace. 

[7soulstars]

Hello :) I hope it's okay to send a request (if not, then I'm sorry about it ) So maybe where Bucky lives on Clint's farm to get away from everything but then there comes this woman, Clints best friend besides Nat and he immediately wants to know her better.. after a while they get really close and develope feelings for each other but dont talk about it. So one night, she stays over and needs to share a room with Buck, things get heated and passionate between them ? :) then it's all cuddly? ❤️

Hey darling! Thank you so much for requesting! I am so sorry it took me so long! I blame it on my lazy ass and also on the many pending requests. Thank you so much for being this patient with me! I really hope you like this one!

Мой целитель

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Broken Bonky Babie, Avengers are teasing little shits, Steve leaves like in the movies and doesn’t come back (I want to kill him for that), Fluff, Shy Bonky and Y/N, Liddle angst, Both idiots doubt themselves, Y/N likes beating the fuck out of bullies a.k.a Violence, steamy stuff but not smut ( cuz I don’t write smut”

Summary: Someone managed to make Bucky accept the fact that everyone can heal. 

..............

Мой целитель ; (pronounced: Moy tselitel') Russian for My Healer

War never ends. It just rests. One day someone will come to ask your help that is when the rest of war is over again.

That is what Bucky has always been of the belief ever since before and after endgame. Ever since Steve left, most of Bucky did too. Yes, he had Sam and the others but Steve was the only part of his original past left and he couldn’t even stop him.

He decided that the rest period for his war conflicted heart had started when Clint had offered him a place to live at his farmhouse to ‘heal and stay away from the space bullshit’. 

Not to brag but he had fit right into the little family. The kids loved Uncle Bucky and Laura appreciated the extra help she got with the house. Sam and Natasha would come by every two days and the rest every once a week. They would go visit a bar and hang out. That was Bucky’s life now. That was his routine.

Clint had sudddenly announced one fine weekly team hangout day that his long time best friend would be joining them. Bucky couldn’t care less. He had seen people come in and out of the Barton house all the time. Most sending him glares due to his past. He couldn’t blame them. Not when he knew he would do the same in different set of circumstances.

But he was proved wrong. Y/N was an angel. More so to him. Not a single glare was directed at him by her the entire time. She just smiled sweetly. Maybe he did care a little bit.

Y/N turned out to be Lila and Cooper, Clint’s first two children’s godmother. She had finally come home after 15 years of being in and out of the country for her job. Clint had mentioned that every time she came back she would first visit the kids not forgetting to bring them gifts from everywhere and how the snap had worried her. So Bucky was not surprised when he had to get three kids off of her as she entered the house. His heart swelled when she said ‘Thank You’, although everyone said that. 

He was unusually getting attached to her and that scared him.

After Steve attatchment was difficult. Trust was difficult. But Y/N made it seem like child's play. She somehow completely saw through him. Almost as if she knew everything about him and he was confused by that.

Especially at those little moments when he felt hesitant.

Bucky was a handsome man no doubt and that meant some women were confident enough to ask hit on him everytime he was out at a restaurant or a bar with the others. Y/N would join them quite often and on one such day she saved Bucky from his anxiety issues.

"Hey.....you come here quite often.....can I buy you a drink ?", a very confident girl had managed to come up to the table and asked Bucky who looked at her with eyes as blown out as big as saucers and immediately looked down stuttering as he tried to politely reject the lady. A hand carefully wrapped around his metal arm as he realized Y/N had said "I'm sorry he's taken", before sending the girl as kind smile which had lead to Bucky's hair-hidden neck to go red.

Bucky had excused himself to the washroomas the rest relentlessly teased his popularity but he had not noticed Y/N following suit.

"I'm sorry", she had apologised leaving the other puzzled again. "W-why?" "I should have asked before touching you....I know-I know you don't like being touched....I'm sorry". There was pure sincerity in her voice "NO!",his own voice startled him and her as she looked at him in confusion. "I-I mean I'm glad....You helped me out there......Also.....",there was hesitation in Bucky's heart, "Also....I don't mind if you touch me Y/N".

That day onwards something changed. Significantly so, Bucky found himself calling and hanging out with Y/N more. She filled his thoughts would be one way of saying that and the Avengers noticed. So the next time Bucky tried to sneak out of the farm when the others were there Sam noticed, “Hey Hey Hey ! Where are you sneakin to ?”. The other stood frozen like a deer in the headlights staring down at his best friend like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. Nat smirked as she bit on her grilled cheese sandwich sing songing, “He’s going to meet Y/N~~”Bucky grumbled a little ‘Shut up Nat’ before taking the car out towards the bar.

“Buck !”, she had yelled waving as he smiled and pulled her into his arms for a hug and staying like that for a few minutes both eventually hesitantly letting go. Joe the bartender already having set up their regular drinks showed how often they frequented the place, even having seats that were almost always empty for just the two of them. 

After meeting Y/N, Bucky realised new things about himself. He liked sweet stuff more than savoury. He liked playing games at the arcade. He was definately much more open to technology than Steve ever was. He liked being spoiled and babied. And he was extremely serious about board games. He knew all this because Y/N made him realize that.

That day he found out another thing. He likes staring at Y/N looking at the sunset. In other words he likes Y/N. But he had promised himself to not act on it. He didn’t want to loose her. Not now, not ever.

Walking through a dark alley way was not something Bucky liked but with Y/N it was something he was starting to hate. Y/N is beautiful. Obliviously so. He could sense sleazy men staring at her but chose to stay put. But we all know that rouse wasn’t going to stay put for long considering a group of 3 men surrounding the two of them all eyeing Y/N. “Hey sweetheart why don’t you come with us ? We counld have a darn sweet night”, exclaimed the one that looked like the leader as the other two laughed behind him. “Back off”, Bucky had warned. He didn’t want to fight. He felt like he’d embarrass himself before Y/N. “Ohhh look who it is The Winter Soldier”, the other said mockingly. “What are you going to do? Kill me? You don’t have Captain America now to back you up do you ?”. Before Bucky could even reply the third guy let out a scream at which everyone turned to look at him to see him cradling what seemed like a freshly broken wrist and before he could even react the second one went flying into a pile of trash (where he belongs) and the main commentator’s head was being bashed strait onto the road by Y/N’s hand. “No, but he does does have an ex-black ops now turned into a CIA Agent to back him up”, she quipped seethingly through her teeth.

Bucky said nothing. His brain was still processing the information he was bombarded with. He walked Y/N to her car and drove back to Clint’s all while still processing.

So when Sam (who was just about to leave) asks “How was it ?” Bucky looks him in the eye and goes.

“I’m in love with Y/N.”

Tony had decided to prank Clint one fine day and told everyone that Clint was hosting a sleepover. So that meant Clint had to accomodated several idiots into his farmhouse. Within this chaos he also had a very great idea.

So when Y/N was pushed into Bucky’s room both stopped functioning.

Y/N spotted him angrily whispering into is phone as she got out of the shower. Throwing his phone into oblivion ,startled, when she called name out suddenly. “Y-You’re done ? Uhhhh you can take the bed doll, I’ll take the floor”,Bucky hates the floor but if it meant Y/N would be comfortable, he’d be ready to sleep on a block of ice. “Nope definately not ! We can share the damn bed Buck the floor uncomfortable !”, she argued. “ No Y/N you don’t understand I can’t !” “WHY! IS IT BECAUSE I MADE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE AFTER THAT DAY ?”, there was a grave silence between the two. He knew exactly what she was talking about. Bucky’s eyes soften and for the first time he realizes that he had never thaken the effort to know more about Y/N. He was focused on her helping him find himself. “Why would you say that ?” ,he said softly as he moved towards her and she moved backwards. “Because it is what it is isn’t it?”, she retorted. “NO IT IS NOT !”, Bucky sighed as he sat on the bed and watched the woman of importance as she paced around the room. “Why then Bucky ? You’ve been distant from me since that day....” “You won’t understand.....” “Try me” “I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU OKAY !” 

12 minutes. It had been 12 minutes since Y/N had froze and stared at Bucky. 

“Shut up. You’re lying” , she finally said.

“What ? No ! Why would I lie about that”,Bucky argued

“Because ! You are James Buchanan Barnes ! One of the most attractive men I have seen in my life period.”

“And here I’m the one firmly believing someone like me doesn’t even stand a change with someone as pretty as you.”

“See, you’re lying again”

“Doll, shut up before I will have to make you”, he warned

“Don’t make empty threats that you won’t fulfill James”, she challenged.

And with that Bucky has Y/N slammed into the bed , his mouth moving roughly along her’s as she puts her arms around his. There was something different about this Bucky. Y/N felt every single pent up frustration that the man kissing her had felt supressing his feelings had felt.

Soon enough they seperated, finally gasping for air. Bucky plopped beside Y/N as she placed her palm on his cheek rubbing a thumb over it while smiling at him blissfully. 

“Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you”

“I love you...”, she said and somehow Bucky knew he had tears running down his cheeks. He curled into her arms. Clint’s loud speakers playing Elvis as the two dozed off to sleep. But Bucky waited for her to doze off, kissing her forehead as he ran his metal arm through her hair.

“Мой целитель, I love you too”, he said. 

He wasn’t alone anymore. He was healed. His internal war had ended forever. That’s all he ever wanted. That’s all he was thankful for.

---The End---

Guess who almost cried writing this fic? That’s right! ME. Now I need myself a Bucky to hug. I really hope you liked this fic and I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH ON HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOU BEING SO PATIENT WITH ME! Please like, share, comment and reblog if you like my work to support me ! Please do not plagarise my hard work and thank you so much for reading! 

~Love, Hri

[siriusly-addicted-to-writing]

I’m in love with him

Pairing: Draco x Slytherin!female!reader 

Summary: Draco and [Y/N] are best friends, but one fight, and one certain boy, threatens their friendship.

Warning(s): cussing, underage drinking, drunk reader (honestly kind of bad but I had to get something out here, unedited to add to the bad of it, but um, hope you like it!)

Masterlist

X-X-X-X-X-X

This is for Dee’s [ @obsessedwithrandomthings ] writing challenge! I’m sorry it’s so late! I’ve been very busy and uninspired but I finally found inspiration and time! I hope you like it!

Prompt: “Yeah, well - fuck you too!” in bold!

X-X-X-X-X-X

“You know Draco? I can’t believe you’ve decided to change,” [Y/N] says. She glares at the platinum blond boy next to her. Her best, and only, friend Draco Malfoy. 

“I didn’t change, you prat. You’re making it all up,” he says rolling his eyes at the girl next to him.

[Y/N] and Draco have been friends for as long as they can remember. ‘Before you started walking,’ Draco’s mom would always say. They grew up together, having sleepovers all the time, and it wasn’t weird. They were like siblings.

But siblings don’t fall in love with each other.

Because Draco has fallen in love with [Y/N]. Over and over and over again. And [Y/N] makes it obvious that she doesn’t reciprocate those feelings. The little hints Draco has given her has never had the response he’s wanted.

For instance, one time she told her she looked beautiful and she said she wasn’t. Draco had to scoff at her for that one. She was more than beautiful. She was gorgeous.

But Draco could see the way she swooned for his arch enemy. Harry freaking Potter. Her eyes aways lit up when she saw him in the hallway. Or when he would just bluntly mumble something when passing the two of them.

She’s always had a soft spot for the boy. Even once the rivalry started, she always told Draco to knock it off. ‘It’s not civil to pick fights with people, Draco.’ he remembered her saying. He shook his head and regained his focus on the girl next to him.

“You did change Draco. I barely know who you are anymore! You’ve been distancing yourself from me!” 

“Oh, that.” Draco puts his head in his hands. How could he be so stupid?

Of course! He didn’t even realize it before. He was distancing himself from her. Slowly, but he was. All out of selfishness. He was trying to get rid of his feelings for her. He didn’t want to love her if she didn’t love him back.

“See! You know you’re doing it! Draco, I swear if you keeping doing this, I’ll- I’ll sit with Harry!” she said crossing her arms. 

“You wouldn’t,” Draco says, glaring at her. He knows perfectly well she will. She can make friends easy enough, but being friends with Draco has restricted her.

“I certainly will!” she says, standing up and starting to walk away.

“Fuck you,” Draco mumbles, mostly to himself. He sees out of the corner of his eyes that [Y/N] tensed. 

She heard him. Shit, she heard him.

“Yea, well- fuck you too!” she says walking away. Draco lets his head fall to the table. 

Yeah, he officially blew it.

------------

[Y/N] walks out of the Slytherin common room, and feeling really strong. Maybe taking a break from Draco would be good for her. A way to expand her friend group. Luckily for her, being a Slytherin didn’t have a negative effect on her. 

In fact, Hermione once asked her to help her with potions. [Y/N] politely declined, saying that she was studying with Draco that evening. Hermione understood but said she’d aways be up for studying with her.

[Y/N] was one of the smartest in her year. Second only to Hermione. Thinking she could start there, she went straight to the library.

Hermione was there. Sitting in the back of the room with her nose stuck in a book. [Y/N] decides to just go and sit down across from her, with no plan. So, she took a deep breath and sat down across from her. 

Hermione peers over her book to see a shyly smiling [Y/N]. Hermione relaxes her expression and lowers her book.

“[Y/N]! So lovely to see you!” Hermione smiles sweetly at [Y/N]. 

“I hope it’s not too late to take you up on that studying date?” she asks timidly. Hermione’s smile brightens as she vigorously nods her head.

“Not too late at all!” she exclaims, bursting right into the charms lesson they took that day.

------------

After a short four weeks, [Y/N] and the golden trio were the closest of friends. Harry and Ron were skeptical at first, but ultimately accepted the smart and kind girl from Slytherin.

[Y/N] still say Draco, but all she did was smile at him and continue on her day. She didn’t know she was hurting the boy, because he smiled back and would start talking to whoever he was closest to. 

She thought he was happy without her, and she was happy without him. Right?

Draco wasn't happy, he was dying inside as he watched her laugh at something Weasley would say, exchange notes with Hermione, and share a smile with Harry. Draco has never seen her look at someone like that. She looked at him the way he wished she looked at him. 

But what set Draco off was that Harry started looking at her the way he looked at [Y/N]. The way she looked at him. Draco felt his heart shatter when he realized they loved each other.

Draco started looking dead, to mirror the feeling inside him. [Y/N] noticed, but barely. She would purse her lips and remind herself that Draco didn't want to talk to her. She would move on with Harry as he dragged her down he hallway.

So when Ron and Harry won a quidditch game, [Y/N] was invited to the party in the Gryffindor common room without hesitation. 

------------

“I’m so glad you came [Y/N]!” Harry says as he drags her in the common room. ‘She looks gorgeous tonight,’ Harry thought, ‘not that she doesn’t always.’ She was wearing pair of ripped jeans that brought out her curves, and a tighter black tank top that exposed some of her midriff. 

“Haha, thanks for inviting me Harry,” she says, walking into the party. Ron was in the middle of a bunch of people explaining their victory against Ravenclaw. [Y/N] smiles at the boy and continues to walk around. 

No matter who many times she's been in the Gryffindor common room, it always amazes her how warm and welcoming it is in there. Now filled with people, it makes it seem like such a fun and cozy place. Polar opposite to the Slytherin common room.

[Y/N] continues to look around the room and sees Hermione in the corner with a book in her hand. [Y/N] scoffs and shakes her head. She’ll be taking that book from her shortly.

[Y/N]’s eyes continue to wander around the room. She was looking for someone. When she finally spun in a 360, her eyes landed on a smiling Harry’s. But spotting Harry didn’t satisfy the thought in her head.

‘Where is he?’

Where was who? Because Harry was standing right in front of her. His lips moving, but without sound, gesturing at her to come closer. Tempting her to kiss his lips. 

But if she did, would she ruin her friendship with the boy? Because, yes, it is true. She has feelings for the boy, but does he reciprocate them? 

These were the thoughts that went through her head when Dean Thomas came walking by, offering shots of fire-whiskey to her. She looks at him, then at the glasses, and she takes two.

She walks back over to Harry and offers him a glass. He politely accepts and takes it from her.

“So, I didn’t have the chance to tell you earlier, but congrats on the big win,” she says.

“Thank you,” Harry says, smiling at her.

“Cheers to you, Harry. For being an amazing quidditch player and a spectacular friend,” she says raising her glass.

“And cheers to you, [Y/N]. For being you and always making me smile. You’re the best,” Harry says raising his glass.

“I know,” she says, a smirk playing on her lips. Harry rolls his eyes and clinks his glass against [Y/N]’s. She slowly presses the glass to her lips, unsure if she should drink it. She’s never had fire-whiskey, but this might as well be the first time.

The fire-whiskey burns her throat as it goes down, but the rush feels amazing. But her thoughts were kind of getting fuzzy, but that didn’t stop her from flagging Dean back over, asking for another shot. She needed that rush again.

Just as she was putting the glass to her lips, Harry stops her by gently placing his hands on hers. 

“Wait, you’ll get sick if you have too much,” he says, but she downs it anyway. 

Her thoughts go a little bit fuzzier, but she doesn’t mind it. After all, there was a lot of things on her mind. 

“Wow, Harry! This stuff is amazing,” she says. Her glass slips from her hands. Harry somehow was able to grab it before the glass hit the ground. 

“Okay, no more of that.” Harry grabs her hand before she could signal Dean for another.

“Harry! Let’s dance!” [Y/N] says, as she notices the music that has been playing. Harry places the empty glass on the nearest table and follows [Y/N] out in the crowd. She starts dancing and Harry realizes what an amazing girl she is.

After a few songs later, Harry led [Y/N] off the dance floor. He could tell the alcohol started effecting her. She was pretty tipsy and her face was flush, so Harry decided to take her back to her common room.

“Where are you taking me Harry? I want to dance!” she says, trying to tug herself free of Harry’s grip.

“[Y/N], we are going for a walk,” Harry says, pulling you out the portrait hole. She hums as Harry’s hand slides down her wrist to intertwine with hers. 

“Harry?” she says, turning to face him. She notices the change in scenery around them. They are in the courtyard, and the starts are brightly shining above them.

Harry, removes his hand from hers and brushes her face lightly. She leans into his touch.

‘This is finally happening!’ she thinks.

She leans forward and Harry’s lips touch hers. Her eyes close, but she doesn’t see Harry’s face, no. She see’s Draco’s.

She freezes. Everything is clear now, even with her fogginess to her brain. It’s as if she saw the whole future.

It wasn’t Harry she loved, no. She loved Draco.

“Harry, I don’t mean to be rude, but could you excuse me?” she says, as there pull away from each other. 

“I know where you’re going to go, and please, let me walk you there.” Harry says, not sounding hurt at all that she practically shot him down.

“You’re not upset?” she asks, genuinely confused.

“No, not at all actually. I realized, it’s not you I want either.” He smiles at her. “I mean that in the nicest way possible.” 

Without responding, [Y/N] laughs really hard, and she can’t stop. Harry realizes she’s too drunk to do anything right now. They will have to talk about this later.

“Okay, let’s get you back,” he says, slinging her arm around him.

------------

Draco stares at the fire crackling in the fireplace. He knows [Y/N] went to the party in the Gryffindor tower, and who knew what she was doing now. 

So Draco sits there, in his dead state, thinking of all the ways he can apologize to her. 

But, they were good enough. There wasn’t anything he could say to make things right. 

He screwed up, and that was that. 

And she was happy without him. He couldn’t take that happiness away from her. He couldn’t be that selfish. She deserves to be happy. 

“Harry, I want to go back and dance!” he heard her voice. But, it wasn’t her voice. She sounded off. 

Draco was on his feet immediately. The door swung open and there stood Harry with [Y/N]. Draco could tell with one glance that she was drunk.

“What the hell happened to her?” Draco says, running up to the pair of them.

“Oh Draco! Is that you?” she says, falling into Draco’s arms. Draco catches her with ease, and glares daggers at Harry. 

“She had a few shots of fire-whiskey, and well, I thought I’d bring her here. She was asking for you the whole way.” Harry awkwardly rubs his neck.

Draco looks down at her, and she is smiling up at him. She wanted, wants, him. Not Harry. Him.

“Thank you for bringing her here, Potter,” Draco says, nodding at Harry. Harry nods back then retracts out the door. He had a certain Weasley to find.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Draco says, scooping her up like a child. She puts her face into his chest.

“You’re warm,” she says, and Draco can feel her smile through his shirt. Draco couldn’t help but smile back. He walks up to her room, and somehow made it without being blocked with the enchantments. 

“Stay, won’t you?” she whispers into his chest. Draco sets her on her bed, and she scoots over. “Come on, Draco. I’m not that drunk. That was all an act,” she pauses, “Well, most of it. I’ve got a buzz going on, and I’ll probably have a headache in the morning.”

Draco stares at her bewildered. She was acting? Boy, did he love her.

“As much as I’d like to, you have roommates.” He smirks at her, and she rolls her eyes, patting the bed. Draco sighs and sits down next to her.

“[Y/N], I want to apologize. I-”

“I’ll have to stop you there, Darco. No Draco, sorry. See, I’m not completely sober, so please. Save the apology till later, but I forgive you.” She smiles at Draco and he smiles back.

“Alcohol goes straight to your head doesn’t it?” Draco asks, and she shakes her head, laughing slightly.

“Yeah, but I’m also good at sobering up really fast. I used to drink wine all the time,” she says, smirking at Draco. “I’d also like to apologize, but I’ll save that till when my mind isn’t fuzzy.”

“Okay, [Y/N],” Draco says, rolling his eyes. She rolls onto her side to face Draco. Draco rolls over to look at her. She is beautiful, and she will be more beautiful everyday.

“Hey, Draco?” she says, her eyes starting to close.

“Hmm?” he hums, brushing her hair from her face.

“I love you,” she says. Those three words made Draco’s heart explode. His [Y/N] loves him.

“I love you too,” he whispers, kissing her on the forehead. 

That night, they both feel asleep with a smile playing on their lips and love in their hearts. Tomorrow, and everyday after that, they will go to bed with each other on their minds.

=========

Hope you all enjoyed! 

[sayonarasanity]

windmill

this fic is based on the song Windmill by Lor (and I highly recommend you to listen to it while reading especially or later for it is an incredible song)

AO3

summary: Here is the thing about Levi, his heart is a windmill in the middle of a wilderness where there was no wind to make it twirl, there was no wind to make it beat, pound and feel. Just feel.

  Until one day he got hit by a storm so wild, so rare and so incredibly terrifying but in the most beautiful and breath-taking way that it left him defenceless, vulnerable and weak. Like a tiny little flower which had long passed its day of blossoming in a fierce, winter dawn yet it stood erect with its fragile body, challenging against the merciless winds and the brutal frost.

He fell in love.

Windmill, are you still afraid of nothing?

Here is the thing about human life, it isn’t everlasting.

But what is? The world and each and everything within it are mundane. The day is doomed with the night, the sun is doomed with the moon, life is doomed with death, men are doomed with gravity. If something starts, then it is fated to end. It is a vicious circle, living that is. Waking up only to sleep again at night. Earning money only to spend it an hour later on a trouser which you thought was necessary but maybe it wasn’t. Cooking for hours and hours just so you can eat it in mere ten minutes because your body needs food so that you can keep on living, living and living.

Like a windmill, turning, turning and turning to the day when there is not even a breeze to swirl you and you are frozen, unspoken and rigid. 

And here is the thing about Levi, his heart is a windmill in the middle of a wilderness where there was no wind to make it twirl, there was no wind to make it beat, pound and feel. Just feel. 

Until one day he got hit by a storm so wild, so rare and so incredibly terrifying but in the most beautiful and breath-taking way that it left him defenceless, vulnerable and weak. Like a tiny little flower which had long passed its day of blossoming in a fierce, winter dawn yet it stood erect with its fragile body, challenging against the merciless winds and the brutal frost.

He fell in love.

And he fell in love not like jumping to death from a high up building, piercing through the clouds. It wasn’t as quick as that. He fell in love as if he had jumped into a river. It was slow and it hurt during the process of acknowledging it. Like accepting the fact that you were dying. Yet, instead of fighting against it, he welcomed the embrace of the water like he welcomed his mother’s hold. He let the arms wrap around him firmly. Then gradually the snow cold changed to sunny warm and the heavy water he thought that choked him turned into fresh, light air. 

And he fell in love rather quietly, but he fell in love deep. Then his heart started to move and twirl with the wind. 

She was the whirlwind, and he was the windmill. She was wild, sturdy and destructive. When he waited motionless and steady for merely a breeze to touch his vane, she had brought him a storm. 

And he got carried away with it. 

“Why do you keep looking at that thing?” She asks one day when they are in his apartment and he stands in front of one of his shelves in the living room. 

“It’s a windmill,” he explains, taking his eyes away from the scale model of it to focus them on her. 

“I know that,” she says. The shelf is not that high, so she puts her hands on the edge of it and rests her chin on top of her hands. “I wonder if there is a specific meaning behind it.”

“Like what?”

She shrugs and blows, making the vanes of the windmill move slightly. “Like a memory or… a specific reason that only you know, but you don’t want anybody else to learn.”

He raises a brow. “Then why do you ask?”

“I am a curious one, you know,” she smirks. The afternoon sun highlights her eyes and plays with the colour of her short hair which ends just above her shoulders. Some strands of her brown hair shine a sweet red. It is tied slovenly behind with a little hairpin. “And I would like to learn about my boyfriend’s secrets.” 

Right, boyfriend. Apparently, by some miracle or a dice tossed by luck or during a single second in which God or whoever had a tiny pity on him or because of a good-hearted, gentle and humane ancestor of his she had loved him back. 

“There is no secret,” he looks back at the little maquette. There is really no secret behind it. He had made it himself about four or five years ago when he was still at college, studying architecture. It was just that with time it had gained a place more special and a meaning more solid and a presence heavier.

“Is that so?” she asks, raising her brows and smiling lips pressed, playfully. “Rest assured, I won’t get offended if it’s a gift from one of your earlier lovers.” 

“I don’t have earlier lovers,” he deadpans, glaring at her sideways. 

“What is it then?” She straightens and comes closer, dropping her chin on his shoulder. He spares a few seconds just staring at her inquisitive eyes, demanding answers. His heart beats calm, and he hears its pounds and feels its vibrations. Because of her…

Is the wind still your friend?

“I liken it to my heart,” he looks away, already regretting the words that left his mouth out of command.

There is a pause in the air and faint pink on his cheeks. “Oh,” she reacts at last.  

He cannot move his eyes to her this time, as the silence stretches like a furry, tired cat and it nerves him with each tick-tock he hears from the watch that is hung on the wall. It lasts so long that in the end, he shifts uncomfortably, and Hanji lifts her chin from his shoulder, her eyes, clouded and thoughtful behind her glasses, are focused on the windmill. 

“I see,” she says.

The next day she brings a propeller, almost the same size as the windmill and places it next to it. When she turns it on, the vanes of the scale model twirl slowly. 

Then she looks at Levi who is standing still and astonished. The wind howls in his ears, and his heart beats unsteady because it faces the same storm again. Vicious, wild and free.

And she smiles because she knows.

- 

Levi doesn’t exactly know or rather remember but they end up drunk as hell on one Saturday night. 

They are outside, stumbling together towards the coast road where benches are lined up side by side. The air smells like early summer, with newly blossoming flowers and salt. There is a full moon above the sea, and it reflects argent on the surface of the dark, tranquil water. People walk by every now and then and there are stray dogs and cats around. 

When they somehow manage to sit down on an empty bench, Hanji slips and puts her head on his lap facing the pitch-black sky. She giggles to herself as she watches the stars there are barely visible because of the city lights. “So pretty.”

“Hmm,” he approves, observing her relaxed features, coloured cheeks and the goofy grin on her face. 

“Hey, Hanji,” he rolls out of her tongue. He doesn’t even think or plan on what to say. The following words just stumble their ways out of his mouth. “You are—did you know that I couldn’t drink tea without some honey in it?”

She moves her eyes to his and giggles again, covering her mouth with her hand. “Yes, I realized.”

“Oh,” he blinks as if it’s enough to scatter the clouds in his head. But— whatever. It doesn’t matter now. When he has the stars and moon above, the sea ahead and the girl he loves lying on his lap. “Don’t tell anyone. Nobody knows.”

She nods and draws an invisible zip on her mouth. 

“You know why?” He pushes her glasses up her nose. “The reason why I can’t… drink it without honey?”

Hanji lifts her shoulders up. “Because it tastes like piss without it?”

“Yes.” He is a little surprised at her guessing it right. 

“But Levi,” she laughs. “How do you know what piss tastes like?”

“I don’t—I just know.” He closes her mouth with his hand when her laughter keeps interrupting his sentences. “Shut up, idiot. You are ruining the moment.”

To his surprise, she wraps her fingers around his wrist and kisses his palm. He breathes and his stomach moves as if he was in a car and suddenly rode down a hill. She closes her eyes tightly once to indicate that she is listening. 

“Okay,” he goes on. “So, I can’t drink tea without honey because it tastes like piss.” He inhales, despite his drunken haze. He probably won’t even remember—or will he? How drunk is he anyway? Oh, well. Doesn’t matter. 

“That’s… how my life would be.” Miracles happen. While sober he would rather die than utter these words out loud. Maybe it’s a good thing that he is tanked up. Because she deserves to learn. “Without you.”

Her are eyes wide open, and Levi thinks there are galaxies hidden in them. He doesn’t know if there is anything that is infinite or a life that would last forever. Does  forever  even exist? Does the sky have an end or space a beginning? Humans are such incapable creatures. Cannot go back a day before or has no idea what will happen a second later. Hanji is a human being, flesh, bone, blood and a little too much brain, a little too many feelings, and sentiments. And she is not indefinite, at all. But somehow, she makes him feel like she is. 

“Levi,” she says, pulling his hand away from her mouth. Her eyes are still big behind her glasses and her cheeks are even redder than before. “Does this mean you’re going to call me honey from now on?”

And somehow, she manages to annoy him with every goddamn chance she gets.

He frowns and pushes her shoulder, almost making her fall down the bench. She is bursting with laughter in seconds and wraps her arms around his waist to secure herself and buries her face in his abdomen.

“I’m breaking up with you,” he announces coldly.

“You cannot break up with me. We are drunk.”

“I can. I just did.”

“No,” she groans and presses her face deeper in his stomach. 

“Let go, you ungrateful woman.”

“I caaan’t,” she whimpers. “Levi I—” The rest of her words are muffled; he cannot pick up their meaning and form a logical sentence in his mind. 

“What?” He asks, bending his head down.

“I said, I loppffhhhppp…” 

“I don’t understand what you are saying, Hanji.” He puts his hand on her shoulder to push her back. He is convinced at this point that she is not forming legible words, intentionally.

Unexpectedly, she withdraws and puts her hands on his shoulders to lift herself up. Then leans in to rest her head right beside his neck, nuzzling his skin. “We should go back,” she murmurs. “My place is closer.”  

Levi has no idea what time it is when they miraculously manage to enter her house after a taxi drive which felt like years. They take unsteady and clumsy steps inside the house until Levi finds a door of which room, he is unaware of. He only looks for something to lay down on, then catches the sight of a couch with the limited light provided through the half-drawn curtains. He throws himself to it, without even bothering to take his jacket off. He only kicks his shoes out of his feet and tosses until he finds a comfortable position to sleep. 

Hanji gets into the room a few seconds later. Levi watches her with half-lidded eyes and sees that she has a blanket in her hands. He frowns. How the hell had she had enough wits in her head to think of a blanket? But sleep weighs down on him incredibly heavy and so very unusually that he is almost scared to make it run away. He doesn’t have the strength the utter proper words at the moment anyway. 

Hanji lies down on his chest, covering them with the blanket. He automatically wraps his arms around her as she presses her forehead on his neck. She whines. “I hope I don’t throw up during the night.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he mutters. The clean freak inside of him is alarmed and screams with worry and dismay. He has no voice though. Just a wide mouth open in a silent yell and eyes filled with apprehension. 

“Would you break up with me if I did?” Hanji asks, and he feels her smile in her sleepy voice.

A moment of consideration. “No.”

She huffs out a drowsy chuckle. “Levi,” she murmurs and sighs. “I love, love, love you.”

Are you still afraid of something? Is it you who command?

“Idiot,” he says affectionately. The vanes of the windmill twirl ever so rapidly, and he considers how weird it is for his heart to beat, pound and feel for somebody else, for her only. “I love, love, love you too.”

-

The subway moves swift through the night and they are alone inside the compartment at this hour of the day. Levi watches their reflection on the window when Hanji takes a few photos with her phone. Grinning from ear to ear while Levi has a dead, worn-out look rooted deeply in his eyes. Travelling around the city to visit historical places, museums and parks within just one single day was the worst idea he had ever agreed to. He barely had the energy to merely sit.

“Gonna post these on Instagram,” she twitters happily, swinging left and right. 

“Don’t forget to announce my funeral,” Levi murmurs. 

Hanji snorts and locking her phone she puts it back in her pocket. Then she shifts and lies her head on his lap, staring up at him. 

“Why do you always lie on my lap in public places?” He asks, looking down at her.

She shrugs. “I enjoy the view above.”

“Tch.” One corner of his lips quivers and he moves his gaze up, looking at the window across from him again. This time he realizes that there is heavy rain outside, the raindrops tap furiously against the glass. “Shit,” he swears tiredly. “It’s raining.”

She follows his gaze. There isn’t much before they reach their stop. They are going to soak to their goddamn underwears. It had been sunny the whole day. Curse his luck.

“Alas!” she sighs, but she doesn’t sound much concerned. “Levi,” she says then, and when their gazes are locked again, she beams at him. “Would you kiss me under the rain?” 

He blinks down at her first, his heart stammering hard against his ribcage. His eyes examine her features carefully. “Would you like me to?”

“Yes,” she breaths. “I’ve never done it before.”

“Me neither.”

“How do you think it would be?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I’ve never done it before.”

Her smile widens to display her straight, white teeth. “We should try it.”

“Maybe.” He watches her lips. They are a sweet shade of pink and they look maddeningly soft. And he wants to taste them so very desperately. 

“Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen to your chastity.”

His gaze travels up to her eyes. “I am sure.”

It is still pouring rain when they leave the subway. Hanji leads them through the streets, with her fingers around his. He licks the rain on his lips and squints to get a better view of her. He smells wet asphalt and trees and earth. The odour of the pine trees is evident despite the rain. The splashing drops bounce on the ground like they are dancing up and down, but they slow down until they stop under a streetlamp. 

“We should do it before the rain ends,” Hanji explains excitedly. As if what they were going to do wasn’t something basically everyone did but a life-changing, world-saving act of heroism. 

Her lips taste like rain and they are warm against his own. When her hands cling to the collars of his jacket, he cups her cheeks and tilts his head. Much to their unfortunate luck, the rain almost ceases, turns into a drizzle that barely had any function of wetting anything. She smiles, but Levi doesn’t pull back for a little longer. Holds her gently, keeps her close. 

Are you still afraid of the wind?

“Let’s dance,” she whispers against his lips. Her breath warm, her taste still on his tongue. 

“There is no song.” And the rain stopped already. 

She wraps an arm around his neck and holds one of his hands. He slides his other arm on her waist keeping up with her movements, while she   rests her forehead on his temple. “We don’t need a song.”

They start to move slowly, following the notes of a song that doesn’t exist. The wind is blowing still, quietly. If he listens carefully, he can hear the pitter patters of the water dropping down from the rooftops, and the soft sounds of the wheels of the cars rolling on the wet ground, a plane taking off, a man coming back from work, his rapid footsteps.  Tap, tap, tap.  And his heart, content like he is lying down on the grass, with breezes caressing his face, ruffling his hair ever so slightly. Watching how quietly the vanes turn on top of a hill.

Oh, windmill.

You’re a place where I can cry.

You’re a place where I can lie.

You’re a place where I can die. 

[lucefrs]

          tl;dr: luce thinks about how she should have never ended up at georgetown in the first place, and the domino effect it had on her life. after flunking out of gallagher, she savours the summer. her and scott break up sometime after new years. a quick onslaught of success makes her feel wary, unsure how to not take up space she doesn’t deserve after doing it so many times before. she performs her own song in the lower east side.

                                                                      insp for the song she plays at the end. 

BEFORE.

luce is a bright child but lacks in the area of self discipline and application. she would benefit from paying closer attention during class discussion.

she knew from a very young age that she was not smart. at least not by the metric that institutions measure by. the unlucky curse that has kept her in the stream of academia is this: luce frear is smart enough. to graduate secondary school because it’s a key that unlocks america’s golden arches. to pursue higher education when she gets the encroaching feeling that she’s going to be found out that she doesn’t actually have any family friend's as guarantors. at the time, she doesn’t know how impossible georgetown is. but finding herself in the company of a man who will pay for her to do well, with a tutor that makes the s.a.t’s boil down to a formula of memorization and deduction is a genius move. those three hours are brutal, she struggles but she struggles through it, proud that only a handful of questions were left unanswered. it’s only after she's sat for it that she realizes how impossible georgetown is with it’s fourteen percent acceptance rate.

she uses his mailing address to apply, so it’s him that greets her with a sealed envelope that makes her stomach turn as soon as she opens the door. out of the corner of her eye she sees a bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of ice. she knows what the letter will say: her sat score’s a valiant effort, enough to get her into any state school, but by no means exceptional. bracing herself for his disappointment she pushes the folded paper towards him so she can pretend his disappointment’s directed at the words on the page and not at her. but the skin at the corner of his eyes pinches and there’s no crease between his brows and she knows something is very wrong. or very right. she’s not sure, at the time it’s all very muddled, thinking about how much she likes that there's no place for his smile to hide, and how that's going to be one of her favourite parts of getting old. his smile that runs right to the tip of his nose, bumps against her cheek when he kisses her. he’s kissing her. he’s happy. because of her. she’s made him happy. that's good. she's happy too. then he’s by the kitchen counter, shaking off the champagne from his hand that’s flows over the lip of the bottle and she’s saying things like, ‘   my sat scores were no where near the average,    ’ and he counters that she shouldn’t disregard the importance of supplemental essays and she makes fun of how he talks because she always does. a girl’s got nothing but a gut to trust, and every glass of champagne’s a fuck you to it. luce never pukes from having too much to drink. she pukes in his shower. luce is not smart, but she’s smart enough not to question how she got into georgetown university.

‘   god, you’re so smart luce. we could call it the boyfriend guesses my lip gloss challenge.   ’ she only hears the first part, boasting a smile that makes the apples of her cheeks swell, all rosy like. at the time gallagher had felt like a enticing romp, bound by infatuation, the glint of the dew that hung at the end of the school’s weeping willows sparkling so bright that her heart-shaped sunglasses couldn’t subdue it. luce has never waited for anything, but her first few months at gallagher felt like a gift the universe had hand-picked, oblivious of her christmas list doodled with music notes and brand names of dresses that cost seven hundred dollars, it felt like finding treasure. smart’s an understatement, genius is more apt. she lets this sentiment lead, when the offer to stay comes soaring towards at her like paper plane that falls right into the palm of her hands. it makes logical sense to stay. scott’s here.

she’ll adapt. but gallagher starts to feel worlds away, and as much as she digs her heels into the gravel, gravity starts to slip from her grasp. but how could she can complain? in outer space, anywhere she looks there’s an endless landscape of stars, bright and twinkling, beckoning her towards the nearly planet. but it makes her want to cry when she sees the blue-green dot recede into the distance.

PRESENT-ISH.

luce has her final exam tomorrow and she’s going to crush it. she’s so excited she can’t sleep. there’s no way she could fail it, unless she slept through it but that won’t happen because she has five alarms set and a scott for safe measure. she’s so excited her heart’s sprinting from her sternum to her stomach and it would be classified as nausea if she didn’t know it was just plain excitement. she winces at the brightness from her phone as she checks the time. 3:36. if she falls asleep in the next four minutes she’ll have a solid four hours, but as soon as she closes her eyes her heart runs like it’s just heard the start of the piston, and the percentage she needs to get in order to pass the class rings aloud and reverberates against her brain. forty six percent. she doesn’t even need to pass the exam in order to pass the class — she’s going to be a gallagher girl. whether she likes it or not. in the dark, her hand finds the nob of his bedside drawer, carefully sliding it open, her fingers tinkering inside to feel for whatever weed scott has, gifted joints or a prized gram for winning a dumb luck game. he always has something, even after he passes some of it on to seb. she doesn’t go far, slips out of his grasp and onto the lantern lit cobbled pavements, follows it strictly like she’s on a board in a game of snakes and ladders, stopping every time she takes a drag. she eventually falls against a bench like an abandoned rag-doll, limbs splayed every which way and falls asleep until she's woken up by the rev of a motorcycle engine set as her alarm. luce goes through the pre-test motions with due diligence, takes a shower and eats a proper meal, as though there's someone waiting to accuse her of self-sabotage. she picks up her tote that's packed from the night before and gives the test her all. it's not her fault that her focus wavered in five minute blocks, or that nerves make her feel as though there's an ongoing tussle in her tummy. she treats the residual high as something she couldn't possibly have controlled, it should've left her system by now. and she’s a hero for persevering through it. she tried her best. and in spite of it all, she still fails. thank god.

SUMMER.

she doesn’t want the summer to end. it does anyways.  

INTERLUDE

she's not the type to tuck herself into the booth, but harper’s gone to the bathroom and luce has a gnarly blister on the back of her heel, and her head’s been swimming in cheap liquor all night with no reprieve. she can’t get her head above water for more than a minute before falling back under. her gaze catches a couple in the corner, slow dancing to david guetta and her lips curl into a wry smile, his lips cushioned against his neck, murmuring something she’ll never know, and then they’re laughing — maybe about the fact that they’re slow dancing to memories, or because they’re in love, everything’s funnier when you’re in love. a tiny giggle, lost to the boom of the speakers escapes her, because she’s so in love too.

i miss you.   missing ur 🍆 spare nudes? 🙏🏼 ft? x

she holds down the backspace key and puts her phone away.

                                                         ***

‘   i don't know how to miss you in the right way,   ’ she says after a bout of silence, it makes her stomach lurch, like stepping off a ledge and finding the ground lower than expected. there’s no chance to blink back the tears, and she’s so in shock from what she’s just said that she makes no motion to cover her face from him, staring down the barrel of the webcam, like she’s on the brink of death. she’d give up the forty years of her life to get to the part where she can look back on this fondly, of a great love that once was. her child-like whimpers have her grappling for breath. ‘   it hurts.   ’ she manages to sputter out, and she knows it’s hurting him too. eventually, luce will blink away the last of her tears, because she needs this picture to really believe it.

SOMETIME, SOME DAY.

she's not so much herself as she is everyone else. there are pieces of her in the crescendo of what billboard deems the song of the summer. she’s etched in the familiarity of the bass in the last song played before last call — the resonant thrum of waking up blacked out on the front lawn of an ex best friend. the producer that the lead singer can't function without. the origin story of a grammy nominated album which started on the fire escape, exiled by roaches, a guitar slung like a rifle entering the wild wild west of cicadas and greeted by an empty ashtray save for a half abandoned spliff. a story deified for late night talk shows with parrot hosts and their fake squawks. it’s all made up names in CD booklets that no one looks at anyways. it doesn’t make her an enigma, she has a wikipedia page. record labels take her out for lunch, and she goes because she likes people, even the kind who gawk at her pretty face, drooling at the dollar signs in her doe brown eyes and blonde hair. of course, they love her, a girl who orders salad but doesn’t skip dessert — a reluctance toward fame but endlessly optimistic about the future of the music industry, splits the bill and turns a handshake into a hug when they express their keen interest in working with her. there’s a twinkling note of laughter when she pulls away and says, ‘    you’ve never even heard me sing. i’m not good enough.   ’ and she realizes with a twitch of bitterness that she doesn’t have to be, and things working out feels more like a curse when it isn’t deserved.

she talks but can't write unless it's in time signatures and treble clefs and if she does manage to write in a language comprised of letters ( which has only ever happened once ) she can't sing - unless it’s for boys she likes. so she poaches a voice, scrolling through the repertoire of people who have held her heart in their hands. her song is the last song of his set and it sounds like this. they smile through every note, she laughs at his falsetto in the last chorus. she plays her heart out with a vigour that leaves her palms moist, expecting that when the song ends there’ll be a silence broached by the slow clap of j.k simmons. luce lives in a movie and can feel the montage scene catch up to her. she can feel the lingering memory that never existed : a swollen belly and walls painted pink, a toddler that makes their white picket fenced garden a stomping ground, a cinematic pan across a fairy-lit paris, and night walks. when she looks over, she’ll see him, but she’s going to change the ending. her pinky hovers above the last key she played, letting the sound ring out into silence, before they’re met with fervent applause and whistles. this is the moment. luce looks into the crowd. she looks into the crowd and none of the faces are him because why would they be ? she hadn’t told anyone. the only person who knew was herself. it was hers. this moment is hers and she cradles it close, because she’s never had something of her own before. not really. but she likes the way it feels. the man who once held her heart in his hand kisses the top of her head and praises her with a plunging bow. she looks into the sea of strangers who watch her and she watches them back. this is the moment. hers alone. and she’s never felt less lonely.

[angelikook]

Hoseok As Your Brother

He likes to spoil you.

Like really spoil you.

He buys you the latest clothes, bags, or shoes from the brands that he likes.

Because of that, you look like a mini version of him.

And he likes that because you look adorable.

"Can you stop buying me unnecessary things? I still have many clothes I haven't worn."

"Just donate your old clothes.”

“Ugh… Fine. I guess there’s a positive side to it.”

He keeps you up to date with what he's doing.

Constantly calling or texting you.

Even when he's on the other side of the earth.

"Hey, Y/n. What are you doing right now?”

“I just arrived home after school. What about you?”

“I’m about to record a new song. Are you busy later?”

“Nope. Why?”

“Watch my live on vlive in a couple of hours, okay?”

“I want to take a nap.”

“Don’t! Watch my live first.”

“Why should I?”

“Because you love me?”

“Fair enough.”

“So you’ll watch me?”

“Still no.”

“Please… I’ll buy you a new car.”

“Okay that’s too far. You don’t need to do that. You know I’ll watch your live anyways.”

“Yeay. Thanks.”

He also wants to know what you’re up to.

And demands you to tell him everything.

Even if it’s just about your tiny crush.

“Aren’t you, like, old enough to have a crush?”

“Why are you saying that?”

“I’m just wondering why you wouldn’t tell me about your crush.”

“Umm… Maybe it’s because I don’t have one?”

“Not ever?”

“Nope. Sorry.”

“But there must be someone you’re close to. Who is it?”

“No one.”

“Is it that boy next door?”

“Please stop.”

*pouts* “You don’t want to tell your bro about your crush?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Fine I believe you. But please tell me everything once you have one, okay?”

“Go away.”

Sometimes when you two are together, you feel like you're the older sibling.

Especially when there's a spider near him.

Just imagining that reminds you of how loud he can be.

"Y/n! There’s a spider.”

“Just kill it with your shoe.”

“No! It’ll be dirty. Please, Y/n.”

“I swear I’m the older sibling.”

“Yes you are. Just kill the spider for me.”

But he can also act like the older sibling.

Just like how he should be.

Whenever you both go out together, he covers himself to the point he's not recognizable by armys.

He also arranges things with his manager so you both can go out without getting mobbed.

And if in the end you do get mobbed, he'll make sure you're not hurt.

He keeps holding one of your hands while pushing through the crowd.

When you're both safe in the car, he checks your whole body to see if you're hurt or not.

"I'm fine, Hoseok. Don't worry."

"I'm sorry you need to go through that."

"I don't care. If that's the only way we can spend time together, I'll gladly go through it everyday."

"I really don't deserve a sister like you."

"Shut up."

If you have nothing to do, he invites you to join him on tour.

“You just finished your exams, right?"

"What about it?"

"Come visit me on tour."

Or to his studio.

“Come to my studio, I have something to show you."

Or when he’s practicing.

“I just mastered a new choreo. Come here!"

Basically, he wants to take you anywhere.

He just wants to show you his life which is very different from yours.

But when you show interest in one of his bandmates, all hell breaks loose.

He won’t be the chill brother you’ve known all your life.

Actually, he’ll be the complete opposite of that.

He won’t let you be alone with them.

And he’s always watching over you like a hawk.

To the point you get so annoyed.

But in his defense, he’s just trying to protect you.

“Will you stop following me? You wanted me to watch you practice, but you can't even focus on your job."

"I have a reason for that."

"What?"

"Don't you realize the boys have been staring at you?"

"And?"

"And I don't want them to like you like that."

"They're nice guys, though."

"They are. But they're not good enough for you, especially the maknaes."

"Ugh, you're impossible. I won't come to watch you practice anymore."

"No, please don't."

"Then focus on your job. I'm old enough to look after myself."

He pouted but deep down he knew you were right.

He just had to accept the fact that you wouldn't be the small child he used to play with anymore.

Since he’s always up to date to what you’re doing, he knows when you’re sick.

He’ll always be the first person to know.

Either from your text or call.

And if he’s not busy, he’ll come right to your house.

“Y/n, do I need to come?”

“No. It’s just a small fever. I just need to sleep it off.”

“It’s okay. I have nothing to do anyways.”

“What about the boys?”

“What about them? They’ll understand if I leave for a bit.”

“There’s no way I can convince you not to come, isn’t it?”

“Nope. I’m already on my way.”

“*Sigh* Fine.”

He also knows when you’re not doing fine.

Maybe it’s because you’ve always been open to him.

So he can sense if you’re not fine even before telling him.

“Is there something wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like you’re… off.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t believe that.”

“That’s your problem.”

“Y/n, you can tell me anything when you’re ready.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

When you're ready to tell him about your problems, he's whole demeanor changes.

He never cracks a joke.

And will listen to you until you're finished.

He'll also let you cry out on his shoulder if that makes you feel better.

"I just lost a competition."

"Sorry to hear that. Do you wanna spill it?"

You shake your head. "I just wanna cry."

He then pulls you into a hug. "Cry it out, Y/n."

While you're crying (and making his shirt wet), he just hummed a song.

"I'm sure you did your best, Y/n. I'm still proud of you."

Just like other siblings, you can have fights.

Mainly because of petty things, but it can also be big things.

Like how he spoils you rotten.

You just don’t want him to use all of his hard-earned money on you.

But he doesn’t understand.

"Y/n, why won't you let me buy you nice things?"

"I don't need them. You can buy nice things for yourself."

"But that's different. I want to spoil you."

"That's exactly why! Stop spoiling me. I'm old enough to take care of myself."

"You can have anything in the world and you don't want it?"

"Yes. I want to make money on my own and then treat myself with it."

"Fine. Just don't come running to me when you're in need of money."

Despite what he says to you, he never means it.

He just wants to challenge you.

Because deep inside, he hopes that you come back to him, be dependent on him, just like you used to be when you were younger.

But that one fight made him realize that you're no longer the same little girl in his mind.

You've grown up and you want things he simply can't buy.

At the end of the day, that's alright, though. He'll just find another way to spoil you.

And spoil you he is.

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