#but the beaches..... oh the beaches..... they hold such wonderful memories

[outlying-hyppocrate]

i can hardly wait for the world to be strongly perfumed with sea salt and sunscreen again

[kamaluhkhan]

in my head, i play a supercut of us

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: drinking + smoking. lots of plot + flashbacks. there is some mention of injuries, body issues/self esteem (reader is a competitive swimmer), complicated family dynamics (reader is eldest daughter), slight allusion to alcoholism.

a/n: ohhh this turned out much longer than i expected it to be!! honestly i have so many ideas that this will probably become a series. for now please enjoy the summer, childhood friends to lovers to strangers vibes ;)

you still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn't satisfy you as much as it used to. you still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago. (alida nugent)

now — summer, age 18

driving up to the beach house after so many summers have passed, you’re struck with the memory of your first time swimming. 

it was mid-june in cousins; you must have been four years old. you stood on the edge of the pool for an eternity, until your father became impatient and threw you into the deep end. you screamed, imagined your lungs being filled with cold water, drowning in darkness. your neighbour had run over when he heard, and your father had to hold him back from jumping in to save you. instead, your life jacket kept you afloat, and soon enough you were kicking as though it was the most natural thing in the world. you discovered your love of swimming that afternoon and in that your father found his star athlete. you also realized your love for conrad fisher, the boy next door.

your summers in cousins, the friends you’d met here, conrad fisher — these composed your metaphorical lifejacket, once preserving your childhood. you’d taken it off for too long, spent years in the deep end alone, keeping yourself afloat, moving towards a carefully constructed future. now it all started to crumble, and here you were again, a different person; you wondered if the others were different, too. 

it wasn't your first choice to come back to cousins, but you were determined to make the most of it. after unpacking your things, you decide to make your way to the beck house, right next door to your own family’s. 

you knock once, twice, three times. there's no answer, so you figure that everyone is either in town or at the beach. you start to walk away when you hear the front door open. 

"excuse me!" laurel park's voice calls. you turn around, and the shock on laurel's face is clear. "y/n! oh my god, i almost didn't recognize you!" 

"four summers can do that," you note. 

you hear your name from inside the house, and before you know it, belly conklin excitedly runs out and tackles you in a hug. 

"hey, bells," you laugh. you notice how dressed up she is, something that changed from the oversized t-shirts and patterned shorts you remember her always wearing. "cute dress. where are you off to?" 

"oh. there's a high tea at the country club. sort of like an introduction for the debutante season." 

you raise an eyebrow, looking past belly towards laurel. "is this a lemon jelly belly situation?" you’re referring to the code phrases you used to exchange for different situations, depending on different flavours of jelly beans: pear, toasted marshmellow, lemon. it might have been childish (you were kids at the time), but it always worked. more than anyone, you know what it’s like to be pushed into something too quickly, too soon. even after all these years, and even though belly is only two years younger, your instinct is to defend her at all times.

"possibly," laurel sighs. 

"it's not," belly insists, giving her mother a pointed look. "i wanted to try something new this summer, and susannah promised it would be fun." 

the two of you walk back towards the house. when you reach the door, laurel brings you into a tight hug. the three of you walk into the kitchen, and you find yourself taking the seat you had once claimed as your own — a stool at the counter, third from the left. belly settles down next to you, and laurel grabs a pitcher of sweet tea from the fridge while you reach over to take three glasses from the drying rack. 

belly explains more about the debutante season, and mentions that steven and jeremiah are both working at the club this summer. she doesn't get around to what conrad is up to, because laurel suddenly checks her watch, then sighs. 

"i hate to cut this reunion short, but belly, we'd better leave if we want to make that tea of yours." 

"right." belly looks at you with a frown, like she's worried you'll disappear if you're out of sight. "i'll see you later?"

you smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "i'll be here all summer," you promise, and belly beams.

"you’re coming to my book party?" laurel asks, though it's more of a statement than a question.

"yeah, sure," you promise, sipping your sweet tea. "i'll see you guys there." 

with one final see you later and another hug from belly, you're left alone in the kitchen. you wonder if the fishers still keep the cereal in the same cabinet; if their cupboards are filled with the same sugary snacks you were never allowed to have, but you and the boys would sneak when the adults weren’t looking. 

"y/n, my little mermaid, is that you?" 

susannah always called you her little mermaid — inspired by your love of swimming, yes, but also that one summer you were convinced that mermaids were real, so you and belly spent hours looking for clues on the beach and painting your nails iridescent turquoise. all the adults scoffed at you, but susannah was the only one who played along, who allowed you to believe that magic was real.

instantly, you rise from your seat and hug susannah.

"you have no idea how happy i am that you're here this summer," susannah whispers. as you break away from your hug, susannah places her hands on your cheeks. she looks happy and healthy, if a little tired. you can't help but think of the years you’d been gone when susannah and her family were dealing with so much. there was only so much connection texts, calls, and emails could provide. to be here now, seeing susannah fisher alive and well? 

it was almost too much.

tears threaten to spill, but you swallow them. instead, you reply: "so am i." and, certainly more than before, you mean it.

“conrad’s out back if you want to come say hi. i’m painting his portrait. he’s been a bit down lately, but if anyone can make him feel better, it’s you.”

you feel your cheeks heat up. you finish the rest of your sweet tea and put your glass in the dishwasher, not quite feeling ready to face conrad — there was a complicated history between the two of you. unresolved tension, hurtful words, that sort of thing.

“i’ll, uh, let you keep painting. i should go get ready for laurel’s book party.”

“alright. i’ll see you there, sweetie.”

“yeah,” you confirm. you start to walk away before hearing susannah’s voice again:

“and, y/n?” you turn around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”

later that night, at laurel's book launch party, you watch conrad pour another glass of wine, and wonder whether or not you should join him. his eyes catch yours from across the room, but he quickly looks away. belly ended up having a date, she'd texted you earlier, and you were roped into a conversation with your mother and susannah before you could find stephen or jeremiah. 

"they grow up so fast," susannah muses. she then wraps an arm around your shoulder. "i can't believe that our eldests are 18! conrad’s off to brown in the fall — how about you, y/n?”

“princeton,” your mother boasts, draining the rest of her cup and grabbing another from a tray passing by. that’s her third glass, by your count. “we were so proud. it’s the best women’s swim team in the country.”

“stanford is a close second,” you interject. “besides, we don’t even know if i can start swimming for real by then.”

you’d broken your ankle a month and a half before. it didn’t need surgery yet and you were out of your cast, but you couldn’t return to your usual level of activity for a while — which meant no training camp, like you’d been going to the past few summers.

“you know, i did always picture you on the west coast,” susannah smiles at you. “all those beaches and sunshine.”

your mother frowns, ignoring susannah. “don’t be ridiculous. if you spend the summer doing your physical therapy and resting, you’ll be back in the water before we know it. your father and i agreed — that’s why you’re here.”

you resist the urge to argue with her and instead block her out as she brags about your siblings getting top prizes in their academic decathalon. the twins were thirteen now and had plans with their friends tonight, sparing them from attending this event. no offence to laurel or susannah, of course, but you’d rather be with your friends.

when you look for conrad once more, you notice that he's been roped into a conversation with laurel and someone who your mom had pointed out as cleveland castillo. even after all these years, you can tell when he needs backup: the impatient tapping of his foot, his eyes searching the room for an out.

after excusing yourself from the conversation, you make your way over to conrad. 

"hey," you greet, nodding at laurel and cleveland. "mind if i borrow this guy? we've got some catching up to do." if either laurel or cleveland said anything more after yes, then you don't hear them, already pulling conrad away.

you lead him to the back corner of the room, near a small couch. neither of you make a move to sit; neither of you say anything. up close, you could see the shadows under his eyes, the creases in between his brows. he was always quiet, the more calm and thoughtful one of the group, but always with soft edges, especially when it came to you. now, quiet could have been replaced with brooding, and all those soft edges seem sharper.

“so,” you start. you grab the wine from conrad’s hand and take a sip. “are you gonna keep ignoring me, or are you gonna welcome me back?”

“when my mom said you were back, i didn’t believe her.” conrad looks at you, his face still. “i wish you hadn’t come back.” 

stung, you take a deep breath. after everything, conrad thought that was the best way to greet you? if cold and closed off was how conrad wanted to act, you could play that game, too.

“fuck you,” is all you say before joining jeremiah and steven on the other side of the room.

steven’s eyes widen once they land on you. "no fucking way. y/n!" steven exclaims. "thought you'd never come back here, man." there’s a joyful undertone to his comment as he smiles. same old steven: always blunt, always laughing. 

"yeah, well, i’m here.”

jeremiah just beams at you, picking you up and spinning you around. 

“jere,” you giggle, half scolding, fully floating.

“sorry, sorry!” he laughs, setting you down. “i just — i can’t believe you’re here. how come you didn’t tell me you were coming?”

“yeah, well.” you shrug. “i thought you liked surprises.”

“well, i do. especially if it involves seeing you.”

"yo, speaking of surprises — what if we ditch this party and surprise belly at the drive-in?" stephen suggests.

you shake your head, though leaving was very tempting. 

"or, instead of ruining your sister's first date, we get some booze, light a fire, and go get drunk on the beach," you suggest.

"oh, i am so down!" jeremiah exclaims. "you've got my vote." 

“hell yeah.” steven grins and throws his arm around your shoulder. "you always did know how to show us a good time."

then — summer, age 11

you had plenty of bonfires before, on the beach with your parents, but that summer marked the first one with just the kids. you begged and begged, and eventually the adults were okay with it since conrad had earned his boy scout badge for fire safety in the spring.

it was the beginning of july, and an unseasonably cold evening — basically, perfect bonfire weather. jeremiah helped susannah make hot chocolate for everyone. belly wanted s'mores, so you had biked with her to the store earlier that day for the ingredients. everyone was stuffing their faces with slightly burnt marshmallows as melted chocolate and graham cracker crumbs decorated your cheeks, and you chased it all down with lukewarm chocolatey liquid. you were kids and it was summer; life was sweet, life was good. 

"conrad," steven announced, turning to the boy who was pushing a marshmallow deeper into the fire. "i dare you to go dunk in the ocean." a grin erupted on steven's face, and in the glow of the fire, he looked like the cheshire cat. 

"no way, man. it's freezing."

you knew the real reason conrad didn't want to go into the ocean. one night the week before, when the parents were out to dinner and the other kids were asleep, you and conrad had stayed up to watch jaws together, having rented it secretly from the local video store. ever since, conrad had been coming up with excuses to not go swimming at the beach. 

"what's the matter, con? you scared?" jeremiah taunted, wearing a similar cheshire grin to steven’s.

"what?" the marshmallow conrad was trying to roast fell into the fire. he huffed, and belly handed him another one. "i'm not scared. it's just freezing."

"come on, man. you’ve gotta do it. besides, there's a fire and hot cocoa here for you when you get back," jeremiah reasoned. ten-year-old jeremiah was never very concerned about following the rules, except when it came to truth or dare. 

"i'm good," conrad snapped.

"aw, i think he's scared," steven laughed.

"i'm not scared —"

"what if i went with you?" you interrupted him. 

"but it's not your dare," belly pointed out as she continued carefully assembling a s'more. nine-year-old belly was competitive, so it was very important to her that the rules of any game were followed. 

"yeah, but if connie —"

"is scared," jeremiah coughed under his breath.

"wants company," you continued, ignoring jeremiah. "then, it'll be more fun, right?" you were a mix between jere and belly: you were competitive, but you didn’t particularly care about following the rules. especially when it came to your friends, even more when it came to conrad.

conrad smiled at you softly. "right." 

reluctantly, jeremiah, belly and steven agreed to the terms of the dare. you removed your beach cover up, and conrad his shirt, leaving you both in your swimsuits, dry even with swimming in the pool a few hours before. you ran to the water, pulling conrad with you. you stopped at the edge of the sand, waves tickling your feet and the light, and warmth, of the bonfire a recent memory. it was much cooler here, closer to the water.

"ready?"

conrad nodded once. "ready." 

hands still clasped together, you jumped into the ocean, leaving the comfort of the shore behind. 

now 

jeremiah finds stale marshmallows in the kitchen and steven makes a bonfire on the stretch of beach between your two houses. you head home to change out of your silk mini skirt and back into denim cutoffs. you switch your cream blouse for a short-sleeved button down, left open over your favourite bralette. when you get back to the beach, the boys have invited some people over, most of whom you don't recognize. 

"here," jeremiah hands you a lukewarm beer, which you accept gratefully. then, he throws an arm around your shoulder. "come on, there's some people i want you to meet." 

jeremiah introduces you to a few guys he works with at the club, and some girls who are doing the deb thing with belly. 

"jeremiah mentioned you’re a swimmer." gigi, one of the debs, smiles, eyeing the way jeremiah leans against you. "what's that like?"

the girls all wait expectantly for you to answer. 

"intense," you decide. you leave it at that. the fire flickers a few feet away, vibrant and alive. 

you want nothing more than to go back to those summer nights when you were kids. you want belly to be looking at the stars for elaborate constellations while jeremiah burns marshmallows to a crisp. you want steven to be laughing and making outrageous, impossible dares. you want the five of you together, huddled around a small fire that conrad had carefully crafted. you want conrad to be okay. 

"i hear that competitive sports can like, really fuck with a girl's self-esteem and body image," gigi continues. you don't necessarily think she means it as an insult, and it's certainly not anything you haven't heard (or felt) before, but you still bristle.

"like i said: intense," you answer cooly. 

"hey, man, when are we gonna get the marshmallows going?" steven suddenly appears, his face slightly flushed. he holds hands with shayla, who, as jeremiah pointed out earlier, steven is dating. 

"in a bit. i asked con to pick up chocolate and graham crackers for s'mores." jeremiah looks around before saying: "speaking of: look who's here!"

jeremiah runs off to meet his brother, while you stay back and take a sip of your beer. 

"looks like he brought nicole, too," steven observes.

who the fuck is nicole? 

nicole, you learn as the group sits around the bonfire and roasts marshmallows, is the girl conrad is either dating or hooking up with. jeremiah isn't quite sure.

the night grows darker. the air is warm with smoke from marshmallows roasting, the smell of burnt sugar dancing around. people start to leave to go to other parties, and soon enough it's only steven, shayla, nicole, conrad, jeremiah, and you. having less people around made it harder for you to ignore conrad. nicole is nice and pleasant to talk to, but you can't help but feel something churn in your stomach when you see how close nicole and conrad are to each other. plus, she's wearing a red sox cap, and you know for a fact that conrad hates the red sox, unless that obviously fundamental part of his personality changed too. 

jeremiah must have noticed, because he suggests a drinking game for the group to ease the tension. 

"never have i ever gotten a tattoo." 

you’re the only one to take a sip of your drink. 

"i meant a real one," steven rolls his eyes. 

"i do have a real tattoo." you remove the button down and point to the left side of your rib cage. 

the others take a closer look, except conrad, of course. he was always an expert at pretending not to care, but so were you. tonight is a prime example: since the bonfire, you hadn't said a word to each other. 

"why a starfish?" nicole asks. she leans further into conrad’s arms.

you look at conrad, briefly, then shrug. "i like the beach." 

the game continues until the fire dies down, and you’re left with a burning sensation from conrad glancing in your direction, at the starfish etched on your skin.

then — summer, age 13

"that's disgusting," steven said, scrunching his nose. 

"no, steven, that's friendship," you replied, just as jeremiah leaned over to take more from your cup, and vice versa.

"right, friendship." belly raised her eyebrow at you, and you rolled your eyes in response. you then decided to take an interest in your formerly white sneakers (after so many summers, they were now decorated with sand and sea water and permanent marker doodles. your mother hated them.)

that summer, belly became convinced that jeremiah had a crush on you. she said that he was absolutely lovestruck and that you were too blinded by years of being best friends with him to notice. jeremiah had made you promise not to tell belly the hilarious irony of the situation — that it was belly he so clearly loved.

"see, steven. friendship can be sweet!" jeremiah grinned, chewing the chunk of bubble gum he had fished from your cup. that was the type of cheesy thing only jeremiah could say and make others laugh unironically. 

years before, when you were just kids, you and jeremiah believed you had solved the most complicated problem in the world. you loved bubble gum ice cream, but hated the bubble gum chunks. jeremiah loved bubble gum chunks, and didn't care if the flavor clashed with his favorite rainbow sherbert because he loved you even more (platonically, of course). 

during the whole interaction, conrad was silent, looking out towards the beach. 

the five of you had walked to the nearest ice cream shop (there was no baskin robbins in cousins, but some nautical themed place with 50 flavors and unlimited toppings). you decided to come back and sit on the porch of the fisher house (where there was a decent amount of shade) rather than on the beach. it was one of the hottest afternoons of the summer, late july, when the sun was at its peak. those who'd been coming to cousins their whole lives knew that being at the beach in such weather was only good for swimming. 

you glanced at conrad, who took another bite (an actual bite) of his chocolate ice cream. he was sitting on the railing instead of the stairs like the rest of you, so you had to crane your neck slightly. you tapped his ankle, which was decorated with a temporary tattoo. the night before, the two of you had found a few left over from when you were kids and, having a sugar rush from too much cream soda and root beer (and maybe stolen sips of sangria when the adults weren't looking), decided it would be hilarious to see if the tattoos still worked. so, conrad had a cartoonish-looking shark on his ankle, and you had a similarly cartoonish-looking starfish on your arm. 

"you okay, connie?" you asked. you only got a nod and a small smile in response. more and more, as summer crept on, conrad would be laughing, loud and lively, one second (exhibit A: using those temporary tattoos the night before was his idea -- we don't want them to go to waste, y/n, he grinned mischievously) and the next he'd be silent, closed off (exhibit B: since you came back from your ice cream excursion, he'd barely said a word). 

even though you couldn't really read minds, you had an aching feeling that you knew what conrad was thinking in that moment, because you’d been thinking it, too: time was passing too quickly. in a few days, it would already be august, and september was just around the corner. the summer - your childhood - was as temporary as yours and conrad’s tattoos: vibrant and saturated, slightly faded, then gone. 

"i wanna go swimming. anyone wanna join me at the beach?" jeremiah suddenly asked. 

"i've gotta pick up the twins from day camp, but i'll try to meet you guys later." you knew that wasn't true though — things were getting more and more tense between your parents, your father storming out angrily after useless arguments and your mother passing out on the couch after one too many glasses of wine. someone needed to watch your siblings, and neither of your parents seemed pressed to find an actual babysitter.

"i'll stay with you," conrad said.

belly and steven took jeremiah up on his offer. once the other three were gone, you stood up. "scooch over." conrad shifted slightly and you went to join him on the railing, your knees practically knocking together. 

"so. did the tattoo help you get over your fear of sharks?" 

conrad took another bite of his ice cream, this time with a giant chunk of chocolate. "i don't fear sharks," he replied. then, he turned to you and shrugged. "i just respect them, you know?"

you bumped your shoulder against conrad's. "right. you respect them so much that you avoid the ocean at all costs." 

conrad smirked. "says the girl who avoids eating on the beach because she's scared of seagulls!" 

you were laughing, teasing each other, not caring that your ice cream was melting, when mr. fisher opened the front door, car keys in hand.

"oh, hey kids. we were wondering where you were."

"we went to scoops ahoy," you explained. you took a bite of your ice cream and resisted the urge to spit it out once you realized that it had a chunk of bubble gum in it. 

"better watch the ice cream, huh, y/n?" mr. fisher said, smiling like he said the funniest thing in the world. he patted his stomach to further his point. "if you want to keep up at those swim meets."

you suddenly froze, mid bite. you cleared your throat and dropped the spoon back in your half-empty cup, suddenly queasy.

"dad," conrad said, not raising his voice, but definitely irritated. "what the actual fuck."

"language, conrad," mr. fisher scolded. without another word, he got in his car and drove away.

"he shouldn't have said that," conrad said instantly.

"it's fine," you replied, too quickly to be true. you set down your ice cream between you and conrad. "it's nothing my own father hasn't said to me."

being a teenage girl was brutal, and competitive swimming amplified that, especially the older you got. there was always someone faster, someone more skilled, someone better. ice cream churned in your stomach at the thought. was your father right: had you wasted your summer, not practicing your technique and stuffing your face with sugary treats? 

conrad picked up your ice cream and handed it to you. he then took the spoon from his own cup, and stated: "fuck dads who are jerks." 

you couldn't help but smile. somehow, he always knew what to say to make you believe that you weren't alone, that things would be okay no matter how fucked up the world was. 

"fuck dads who are jerks," you echoed, raising your spoon.

"and,” conrad paused. he looked at you with gentle eyes. “to always being there for each other."

you smiled at him, heart soaring. "to always being there for each other." 

you clinked your spoons together, and ate your ice cream, and shifted closer so your legs pressed together — and it didn't feel like a temporary promise.

now

you always loved mornings in cousins. the beach was particularly beautiful at sunrise, the water at its most peaceful.

the morning after the bonfire, you need that peacefulness to wash over you. as quietly as you can to avoid waking up the rest of your family, you make a fresh pot of coffee and pour some into your favourite mug. it’s from the rainforest cafe: bright green with a cartoon frog on it. you brought it back from a swim meet in niagara falls when you were 10, and got one for the fishers as well. theirs was orange with a cartoon iguana. conrad would use it all the time; you imagine it collecting dust in the kitchen cupboard now.

you make your way down to the beach, and notice someone already sitting at your usual spot by the water.

conrad doesn’t say anything when you sit next to him. he’s wearing a red hoodie over his clothes from last night, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. he glances at you as you sip your drink. 

“morning,” he whispers.

you shiver, and not just from the cool morning air. you’re reminded of the last time conrad spoke to you so softly, the last time you’d caught an early morning sunrise together. such a contrast to where you are now.

“morning,” you finally reply. 

as the sound of waves fills the silence between you, conrad lights his cigarette and takes a puff. then, he hands it to you. in turn, you offer him your mug. a peace offering — you both accept. the space between you becomes open, comfortable.

“since when do you smoke?” you exhale, letting the smoke warm your lungs. 

conrad takes a long sip of coffee, looking out towards the ocean. “since i quit football.”

“i thought you loved football.”

“i loved it,” conrad answers. he takes another sip, then gives the mug back to you. “i don’t love it anymore.”

you take another drag of the cigarette. your fingers brush against his when you return it to him.

“once you love something, you never really unlove it,” you muse, even though you know exactly what he means — when it comes to sports. 

“don’t misquote spirited away at me,” he laughs, and you can’t help but smile. the first time you'd watch that movie was when you were 8. all the kids crowded into the den of the fisher house on a rainy day. susannah prepared an impressive spread of candy, popcorn, and soda for you all. you drank dr. pepper from a twizzler straw and cried when chihiro reunited with haku.

conrad glances at you and the sunshine highlights his smile, his brown hair, the hazel of his eyes. golden, radiant. 

you shiver again, looking away. before you know it, you feel something draped across your shoulders.

“i’m not sure nicole would like it if i was wearing your hoodie.” you joke, but your words are laced with a bitterness you hope conrad doesn’t catch. unlucky for you, conrad knew you too well. 

“you don’t get to do that,” he snaps.

“do what?”

conrad scoffs. “be jealous.” 

“well, you don’t get to tell me how to feel.”

“so, you are jealous?”

you exhale sharply; you can practically feel the wall between you two reappear.

“it’s too early, con. and i’m too hungover to deal with this.”

there’s nothing more left to say. you get up, throw his hoodie on the sand, and walk back towards your house, the beach and conrad further away with every step you take.

it makes sense that way: you were always the one to leave first.

[alxtiny]

hi i hope your requests are open 😓😓😓 i was wondering if you could do an ot8 comfort fic thing for when the ateez members find out that reader used to selfharm because of the scars left behind. if you dw to do ot8 then just mingi is fine.

thank you sm!

I’m so sorry it took this long i got sidetracked 😭😭 but i hope you like it

Ateez reacting to their SO’s self harm scars

Synopsis: ateez comforts the reader after finding out about their self harm scars

Pairing: ateez x gn!reader, domestic au

Genre: fluff, comfort

Word count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of past struggles with self harm

masterlist

• Hongjoong

The soft hum of music filled the cozy studio as Hongjoong focused on the delicate dance of his fingers on the MIDI keyboard, his laptop screen glowing with various tracks and effects. Beside him, you were nestled in a comfortable chair, engrossed in a book, occasionally shifting to find a more comfortable position.

As you moved, your shorts rode up slightly, revealing faint scars on your thighs. Hongjoong's eyes flickered with concern as he noticed, surprised to have not seen them before. He paused his work, turning to you with a gentle furrow in his brow.

"Jagi, what happened to your thighs?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for answers.

You looked down at your scars, a small sigh escaping your lips. "Oh, those? Just old battle wounds," you replied casually, trying to not fall back into painful memories.

Hongjoong's heart sank at your casual response. "But... how did you get them?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice.

You inhaled sharply, setting your book aside. "It's... a long story. But really, it's all in the past. They don't bother me anymore."

Hongjoong's heart clenched at your stiff tone, but he chose not to pry further. He reached out to gently trace the scars with his fingertips, his touch hesitant, as if it might hurt you, but you found it comforting. "I wish I had noticed sooner," he murmured, his voice laced with regret.

You met his gaze, offering him a small smile. "It's okay, love. I got out of it. It not exactly pleasant to remember but I’ll be fine," you reassured him, squeezing his hand affectionately. "Besides, consider it character development."

Hongjoong pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he could shield you from any pain. "Don’t make jokes now," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "But remember, you don't have to bear it alone. I'm here for you, always."

"Thank you," you whispered, feeling With warmth spreading through your body, grateful for his presence and understanding.

• Seonghwa

Seonghwa sat comfortably on his bed, his back resting against the pillows as he played Animal Crossing on his Switch. You snuggled close beside him, the warmth of his body against yours, as you watched the screen together.

You continued watching with fascination, occasionally pointing out cute details or offering suggestions for his virtual paradise.

"Hwa, look! You should put a little picnic area by the beach," you suggested, your voice filled with excitement.

He glanced at you, a warm smile gracing his lips as he listened to your ideas. But then, as the light from the screen shifted, he noticed something on your forearm. Faint scars, barely visible except for when the light from the screen illuminated them but it was enough to catch his attention. He paused the game, concern flickering in his eyes as he gently traced his fingers over them.

"What are these?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with worry.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over you. But then, meeting his gaze, you offered a reassuring smile. "They're old scars," you explained gently. "I'm better now, Seonghwa. You don't need to worry."

He furrowed his brows, his concern evident. "But... how did I never notice them before?"

You shrugged lightly. "They're not something I like to talk about, anyways being with you makes me feel confident and content with myself and I don't dwell on the past when I'm with you."

Seonghwa's heart swelled with love and admiration for you. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're so strong, Y/N," he murmured, his arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace. "And you're not alone. I'm here for you, always."

You smiled at him, feeling absolutely content as you relaxed further into his arms.

• Yunho

Yunho had always been passionate about his work, especially dancing. So when he dragged you along to the KQ dance studio one evening, you couldn't say no to his big puppy eyes, even if it meant sitting on the sidelines and watching him move with such grace that not even the best could replicate.

As he swayed and spun across the polished floor, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him. His dedication and talent were mesmerizing, filling the room with an energy that was infectious.

"That was amazing," you whispered as he finished a particularly intricate sequence.

He grinned, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Thanks, love. But you know what would make it even better?"

You raised an eyebrow, already anticipating his answer.

"If you joined me," he said, extending a hand towards you.

You shook your head, chuckling softly. "No way, Yunho. I'm not half as talented as you are."

But Yunho was persistent, and before you knew it, he had pulled you up from your seat and into the centre of the studio. You stumbled a bit, feeling a little self-conscious as you stood next to him.

"Don't worry," he reassured you, placing his hands on your waist. "Just follow my lead."

You moved together, following his lead as best you could. It wasn't long before you found yourself lost in the music, the worries of the day melting away with each step.

But then, as you spun around, your shirt shifted, revealing the faint marks on your shoulder. Yunho noticed immediately, his expression shifting from playful to concerned. He stopped dancing, his hands dropping to his sides. You froze at his sudden shift in demeanour and looked at him in confusion waiting for him to say something.

"What's this?" he asked, gently tracing the marks with his fingertips.

You bit your lip, feeling exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. "Oh, um, it's nothing. Probably just from a cat or something."

Yunho raised an eyebrow at your answer, he wasn't convinced. "You sure about that?"

You sighed, knowing you couldn't keep it from him any longer. "Fine, I used do it when I got frustrated or angry with myself. It's stupid, I know."

Yunho's eyes widened in horror, his fingers still lingering on your skin. "Why would you do that?"

You shrugged, feeling embarrassed. "I don't know. It's like a subconscious thing, I guess."

"You don't have to do that anymore," he murmured against your skin, kissing the scars lightly. "You have me now. Whenever you feel like that, come to me. Lean on me, use me however you like. I'll be here for you."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you buried your face in his chest, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

• Yeosang

Yeosang had gone out for a while to run some errands, leaving you to enjoy a peaceful nap on his large bed. You decided to steal one of his shirts, the comfort of which immediately sent you to sleep. Unbeknownst to you,in your deep slumber as you shifted around, the shirt had slipped off your shoulder, exposing the healed scars that adorned your skin.

As Yeosang returned home, his heart swelled at the sight of you, peacefully sleeping. He couldn't help but smile fondly, thinking of how cute and tiny you looked in his clothes, quietly he approached to admire your peaceful face. Gently, he reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, as he did his gaze shifted to the scars that marred your skin. Concern flooded his features as he leaned in closer, his fingertips hovering over the healed marks.

You stirred at his touch, blinking awake with a soft smile as you recognized him. "Hey, Yeosang, you’re back, " you greeted smiling at him, your voice still laced with sleep.

But as your eyes met his, you noticed the concern etched in his expression, his eyes fixed on the scars. "Is everything alright?" you asked, furrowing your brows in confusion.

Yeosang's worry spilled out in a rush of questions. "What happened? Are you okay? Why didn't you tell me?"

Confusion flashed across your face before you realised what he was looking at, and you gently reached out to cup his cheek, soothing the furrow in his brow. "Yeosang, it's okay," you reassured him, your voice gentle yet firm. "Those scars are old. It's been nearly a decade since then."

You could see the relief wash over him, but he still looked troubled. "But... why? Why did you...?"

You placed a finger over his lips, silencing his questions. "I was going through a tough time back then," you explained softly. "But being with you... you make me so happy, Yeosang. I haven't had any bad thoughts since."

His eyes softened, and he pulled you into a comforting embrace, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "I'm just glad you're okay," he murmured against your skin.

You smiled up at him, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. "I'm more than okay," you whispered, leaning in to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. "I'm better than I've ever been, all because of you."

• San

After a warm evening shower you wanted nothing more but to get into your fluffy pyjamas and go to sleep. You stood in front of your mirror, carefully putting on your clothes, when the door unexpectedly swung open, revealing San on the other side. Startled, you instinctively grabbed a towel to cover yourself.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't realize you were in here," San stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"It's okay, San. Just give me a moment," you said, adjusting your shirt as you continued dressing. You had been with him long enough not to feel entirely uncomfortable with him seeing you like this.

As you finished, you noticed San's gaze lingering on a particular spot near your hips. Sensing his stare, you furrowed your brows and glanced down, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Is something wrong?" you asked, your voice laced with concern.

San blinked, seemingly snapping out of his trance. "Oh, no, it's nothing," he quickly replied, though his expression betrayed his curiosity.

You sighed softly, knowing he wouldn't let it go that easily. "They're just scars from my past," you explained, gesturing towards the faded marks on your upper thigh and hips. "Back then I struggled a lot with my confidence," you winced slightly at the painful memory.

San's eyes widened in realisation, and his features softened with empathy. "I had no idea," he murmured, stepping closer to you. "You're perfect, you know? I can't believe you would ever think otherwise."

A small, appreciative smile tugged at your lips, touched by his sincerity. "Thank you, San," you replied softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I'm in a much better place now."

Without hesitation, San reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. "I'm glad to hear that," he whispered, his gaze filled with adoration. "But just know, I'll always be here to remind you of how incredible you are."

His words melted away any lingering insecurities, and you couldn't help but lean in to press a tender kiss against his lips. "Thank you for always being so understanding," you murmured against his mouth.

"Of course," San replied, returning the kiss with equal fervor. "You don't ever have to worry about anything when you're with me.

• Mingi

After ages of going to the gym, lifting weights and what not, you had finally convinced Mingi to join you for a workout session at home. He was a bit hesitant about it at first, but eventually agreed, eager to spend more time with you. You chose something slow and peaceful, as opposed to the usual fast cardio routine.

You rolled out your yoga mats in a quiet corner of the living room, ready to start your session. "Alright, Mingi, let's begin with some simple stretches," you said, gesturing for him to follow your lead.

Mingi nodded, a determined look on his face as he mirrored your movements. You guided him through various yoga poses, explaining the significance behind each one with patience and encouragement. As you moved gracefully from one pose to another, you couldn't help but notice Mingi's intense focus on you.

Eventually, you transitioned into a seated position, stretching out your legs. That's when you saw Mingi's gaze flicker down to your thighs, his expression shifting slightly.

Sensing his sudden shift in mood, you paused, meeting his eyes with a soft smile. "Is everything okay, Mingi?"

Mingi hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Y/N, I... I didn't realize..." His voice trailed off, his eyes fixated on the faint scars adorning your skin.

You followed his gaze and realized what he was looking at. You never made an effort to hide them, but you hadn't expected Mingi to notice them either.

You shifted closer to him and reached out, gently placing your hands on his. You took a deep breath, deciding to address it calmly. "Those are just old scars from before. I don't hide them, but I understand if it's a bit surprising."

Mingi blinked back tears, his emotions bubbling to the surface. "I... I never knew. I'm sorry, Y/N. I should've noticed sooner."

You shook your head, squeezing his shoulder gently. "You don't have to apologize, Mingi. You couldn't have known. What matters is that I'm here now, and I'm okay."

Mingi's eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice filled with sincerity. "Y/N, please... promise me you won't struggle alone anymore. I'm here for you, always."

You nodded, a warm smile spreading across your face, as you hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek, making him crack a smile too. "I promise, Mingi.”

• Wooyoung

It was one of those lazy afternoons when you and Wooyoung were both off from work and free from all worries, allowing just the two of you to enjoy each other's company. Of course the best way to spend it was by annoying each other and generally goofing around, engaging in your usual banter and playful teasing.

As you playfully jabbed at Wooyoung's side while he was attempting to pour himself some water, successfully making him spill it, he retaliated by attempting to tickle you. You squirmed and laughed, trying to evade his grasp and running around the apartment, but he managed to corner you and began tickling your sides mercilessly.

"Ah! Wooyoung, stop!" you squealed between giggles, your cheeks flushed from the laughter.

His hands slipped under your shirt, tickling up and down your sides with no mercy as tears escaped your eyes from laughing too much. Abruptly his movements stopped, and a concerned frown creased his forehead as his fingers brushed against thin ridges on the side of your ribs. Gingerly he lifted your shirt, his eyes widened to discover pale white scars strewn across your skin.

"Hey... what's this?" Wooyoung's voice softened as he traced the scars with his thumb, his playful demeanor instantly replaced by worry.

You glanced at him, puzzled by the sudden change in his demeanor, until you followed his gaze down to your ribs. Realization dawned on you, and you gently placed your hand over his, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Ahh those, it's okay, Wooyoung," you said softly. "I'm okay now. You don't need to worry."

He searched your eyes, silently asking for confirmation. Your reassuring words seemed to ease his concern, but he still couldn't shake off the worry completely.

Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss against the scars, his lips warm against your skin. "I love you," he whispered softly, his voice filled with sincerity and affection.

Your heart swelled with warmth at his words, and a giggle bubbled up from within you. Wrapping your arms around him, you hugged him tightly.

• Jongho

As you walked through the door after a painfully long day at work, Jongho couldn't help but notice the weary expression etched on your face. His heart clenched at the sight, knowing all too well the burdens you carried. He had always known of the battles you fought within yourself and the scars they left behind. Yet, out of respect and understanding, he never broached the topic, letting you open up at your own pace.

Today, however, he felt compelled to reach out, to offer you the comfort you so often extended to him.

"Hey, love," he greeted softly, setting aside his book and rising to meet you.

You managed a faint smile, but it didn't quite reach your eyes. "Hey, Jongho."

He stepped closer, his gaze gentle yet searching. "Rough day?"

You sighed, nodding slightly. "Yeah, you could say that."

Taking your hand, he led you to the couch, where he enveloped you in a warm embrace. "I'm here for you, you know? You can always talk to me."

You tensed slightly at his words, your gaze flickering to the floor. But Jongho's reassuring touch grounded you, as he smoothed over the jagged lines on your arms, easing the knots of anxiety that tightened within you.

"I'm just... tired," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Silence settled between you, but it was a comforting silence. Jongho pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his arms secured around you.

Jongho nods, his hand finding yours, offering silent support. "You know you don't have to carry it all alone, right?" he says, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you're grateful for the dim light that hides the vulnerability in your expression. "I know," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

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DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist:

[kpop---scenarios]

Compromised (3)

Pairing: Chan x Reader

Warning: Smut [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.]

Word Count: 1.8k

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @iovecb97 @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @stanskzot8

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ONE | TWO |

“Good morning, beautiful.” Chan smiles as you roll over, your eyes still closed.

“Mhmm…morning.” You groan, not ready to wake up.

“What do you wanna do today?” He asks. You gave him a half smile, you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

“Beach.” You whisper.

He laughs. “Beach it is then.” He says. “Get up and dressed and I'll drop you off at your place to get ready. I have an errand I need to run before we go.” He says, rolling out of bed.

“I'll be quick.” You smile, crawling out of his bed. “I'll come with you.”

“No, no.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. “That's okay, I uh, need to go alone. I have to just…um drop something off to my, uh, grandma.” He says.

“Oh.” You say, slipping your clothes on from the night before. “Sure, that's fine.” You finish, grabbing your bag. The two of you make your way out of the apartment and into the car. As Chan is driving, you're twiddling your fingers, wondering if you should bring up the phone call last night.

“Hey, Chan…” You begin.

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Who were you talking to last night?” You ask. You can see him instantly tense up, but in a way that was almost unnoticeable. “What are you talking about?” He asks. “I was sleeping.”

“I woke up and heard you on the phone.” You say. “Talking about how you knew you should tell me but you couldn't…asking the person to not call you again.” You say, trying to jog his memory.

“Babe.” He laughs. “I have no idea what you're talking about. You must have been dreaming.” He says, smiling at you.

Why was he lying to you? It wasn't that big of a deal, but now he was making it a big deal and you didn't like that.

“Oh.” You sigh, looking out the window. You didn't understand what was going on, but you were damn sure going to try and figure it out.

“Here we are.” He smiles, parking the car at the entrance of your apartment. “I'll be back in like 20 minutes.” He grins.

You give him a half smile back, getting out of the car and heading to your apartment. As you packed your bag and changed into your swimsuit and cover up, you started thinking about the things you heard last night, and as you thought about them more, you wondered if maybe you were dreaming. You were questioning your memory and you hated that. You felt like now you couldn't remember what was fully said.

A ding on your phone brings you out of your thoughts. You look down seeing a text from Chan telling you he was back, and he brought breakfast. You decided to push your concerns to the back of your head, not wanting to ruin a perfectly good day with your hot boyfriend.

“breakfast sandwich?” He asks, holding up your favorite one.

“Ah, thank you. I'm starving.” your smile. “Did you get what you needed done?” You ask.

“Oh yeah. Um, it was just dropping some stuff to my mom.” He smiles, taking a bite of his sandwich.

His mom? Didn't he say his grandma earlier? Or did he say his mom? You couldn't remember. You shook your head, wanting to think about something else - anything else.

A while later, Chan pulls into the parking lot of the beach, grabbing stuff from his trunk before the two of you walk down onto the sand to find a spot.

Once you did, you both set up your chairs, placing the basket that Chan had packed earlier on the sand. The two of you lounged on the beach for a while, until you both got way too hot and needed to cool off. You both ran to the ocean, laughing as you splash each other while going deeper into the water. You both dive under, Chan's fortunately the perfect height for where you were, he could still touch the bottom, where you were treading water. He comes over to you, holding onto you and pulling you into him. You wrap your legs around his waist holding yourself closer to him.

He smiles at you, leaning into you to press his lips onto yours. What was supposed to be a sweet and innocent kiss, quickly turned not so innocent. Chan deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You press up against him even harder, feeling his hard cock almost pulsating against your clothed pussy.

“Chan.” You pant, breaking the kiss.

“I need you.” He groans, kissing down your neck. He reaches down in the water, moving your bikini bottoms to the side, he drags his fingers between your lips, grazing your clit. You bury your head into his neck, muffling your moans as he does it again and again.

You can feel him moving his hands around, pulling his cock out before adjusting you on his body to where he could easily slide is cock into you.

“Fuck.” He groans, pushing himself deeper inside you. You hold onto him as he thrusts into you, while you bounce with the small waves, making it feel even fucking better. With every bounce and every thrust, your clit is rubbed in just the right way.

“Oh my god.” You whine, tightening your cunt around him. He begins thrusting a little harder making you bounce a little more on his cock, making you cum so fucking quick. There was something about fucking in public that made you cum so hard and so fast.

“Ah, good fucking girl.” Chan moans, cumming right after you, filling you up with his load.

“Oh my god.” You laugh, moving off of him to adjust your bottoms while he fixes his swim trunks. You look around at all the people that have now arrived at the beach, everyone blissfully unaware of what had just taken place in the ocean. You surely weren't the first and definitely wouldn't be the last ones to do that.

A few hours later, you and Chan had finished swimming, finished the snacks he had packed and were now thinking of going to dinner.

“There's an Italian restaurant I've been wanting to try for forever.” You smile, climbing into the car.

“We can go.” Chan says. “I'll drop you off at home and then go get ready and come back to pick you up.” He says.

“That's a lot of driving.” You laugh. “I can just meet you there.” You say. “No arguing.” You blurt out, seeing him just about to protest your suggestion. He pouts and protrudes his lips as he makes his way to your place, making you laugh.

You glance at the clock as he pulls up to your apartment. “Okay, so I'll meet you there in an hour or so?” You say, climbing out of the car. Chan nods his head, watching you walk to your door. He always had to make sure you made it into the building before he was able to leave. Your safety was his number one priority and he'd do anything to keep you safe.

Anything.

When you get into your apartment, you take a quick shower, washing out the sand and ocean water from your hair before quickly doing your makeup before finding an outfit. Once you're happy with your appearance, you make your way to the restaurant, deciding to walk. It was still light out, and you didn't live far so why not?

As you're walking towards the restaurant, you can't help but have a sinking feeling in your stomach. That sixth sense feeling of when something bad is going to happen flows through your body, no matter how much you try to shake it off.

Once you get to the restaurant, you see Chan already seated at a table, his back against the wall with a drink sitting on your side waiting for you. “Hi beautiful.” He smiles, getting up to pull your chair out.

“Hi handsome.” You giggle, sitting down, letting him push you into the table. You try to focus on the menu, but the feeling of being watched and or followed. You continuously are looking behind you, scanning the restaurant to ease your worries but it doesn't work.

“Hey.” Chan smiles. “What's going on?”

“I…” You pause and laugh. “It's stupid.”

“No, no. Tell me.” He says, now looking worried.

“I just.. when I got closer to the restaurant tonight I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched.” You say. “I know it's so dumb. Who in the world would ever want to watch me?” You laugh.

Chan's face looks even more concerned as he sets down the menu.

“I'll be right back.” He says, swiftly leaving the table, heading towards the door. You see him leave the restaurant, scanning the street before pulling out his phone. You watch as he dials a number, yelling at whoever was on the other side of the call. It doesn't take him long to say what he needs to say and he slides his phone back into his pocket, coming back into the restaurant smiling. “Sorry about that. Work call.” He says, picking his menu back up. Over the rest of the night, you start to feel at ease, especially with Chan by your side. When you're done with dinner, he offers to take you home, knowing sometimes you enjoy your alone time but tonight was not one of those nights.

“I'd feel better staying with you.” You tell him. He grins, placing his hand on your thigh as he drives towards his apartment.

Later that night, you're snuggled in bed with Chan when you're startled awake by the sound of class breaking in the living room. “Chan.” You whisper, shaking him. “Something broke in the living room.”

He doesn't stir. Seconds later you hear the light sound of footsteps squeaking on the floorboards. “Chan.” You say, more panicked. “There's people in the apartment.”

He bolts up in bed, swiftly reaching under his bed and pulling out a gun. He grabs his phone, pressing a number and putting it up to his ear.

“Intruders. We've been compromised.” He says, hanging up the phone.

“Stay here, baby. No matter what you hear, don't come out until I come get you, do you understand?” He asks. Tears roll down your cheeks as you nod your head, watching him creep towards the bedroom door. Your stomach was twisting and turning with anxiety as he left the room and down the hallway.

All you can hear are grunts, and the sounds of punches landing and bodies hitting the floor. The sound of gunshots ringing in the air. Suddenly the bedroom window is busted, a man wearing all black with a mask landing inside. He holds the gun towards you, pressing something on his ear. You can see the sinister smile through the mask. He comes closer to you, looking you directly in the eyes as he talks into his mic.

“Found her.”

[torahoes]

(IDOLiSH7) Torao Mido - La'Stiara Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator. If you come across any mistakes, feel free to let me know and I will make the necessary corrections.

Touma Inumaru:

Touma Inumaru: Toraaaa

Touma Inumaru: Remember the other day when we talked about going for a drive soon now that the weather’s getting nicer? I found a day off next week 👍

Torao Mido: What’s this? Are you that eager to go on a drive with me?

Touma Inumaru: Oh, would it be better if it’s not so soon? 🤔 If that’s the case, I guess we can just do it another time

Torao Mido: Huh?

Touma Inumaru: Eh?

Torao Mido: Just say you want to go! You said "soon", so next week is perfect, isn't it!?

Touma Inumaru: So that day works for you!? Why can’t you just say you want to go like a normal person!

Torao Mido: If you want to go, I can join you.

Touma Inumaru: Geez, fine, fine! I really wanna go to the beach with you, Tora! 😆

Touma Inumaru:

Torao Mido: The beach, huh. Not a bad idea

Torao Mido: I know a quiet, peaceful spot in Kamakura that doesn't get many visitors. It’s the perfect place to enjoy the view of the ocean.

Touma Inumaru: That's our Tora! 👍 I wonder if they sell Ramune somewhere near the beach… or maybe it's out of season already?

Torao Mido: Ramune? Like the candy?

Touma Inumaru: Not that kind; I mean the one Haru was drinking the other day!

Torao Mido: Ah, the one he said he received after helping out the neighborhood association with his grandma?

Touma Inumaru: Yup, that! Ever since I saw him drinking it, I’ve been craving it too 😆 Drinking it outdoors just makes it taste even better!

Torao Mido: Why do they have a marble ball inside them?

Touma Inumaru: Huh, good question…

Touma Inumaru: Why do they…? Maybe it's because the clinking sound makes it feel refreshing… or something...?

Torao Mido: Well, it did make a nice sound…

Touma Inumaru: Right? Sometimes they sell bottles without the marble, but it's just not as exciting 🤩

Torao Mido: Can you take the marble out?

Touma Inumaru: Nope, you can’t! When I was a kid, my friends and I tried so hard to get it out~~! Man, this brings back memories! 🤩✨

Torao Mido: I looked it up. Apparently, it's there to seal the bottle and keep the carbonation inside

Touma Inumaru: Is that so?!?! The marble actually has an important job, huh

Touma Inumaru: We’re definitely buying ones that have the marble ball! You’re coming shopping with me, Tora! 👍

Torao Mido: Got it. For food, let’s go to that restaurant you recommended before. That’s in Kamakura too, right?

Touma Inumaru: Sounds good, let’s go!! Their seafood rice bowls are insanely good 🤤

Torao Mido: Is it a ticket machine place?

Torao Mido: I should bring cash too. I’ve learned that many older places often don’t accept cashless payments

Touma Inumaru: Tora~~! You adapt way too fast LOL

Touma Inumaru: Nah, it’s the kind where you just place your order with the sweet old lady there. But you’re right; they only accepted cash 😳

Touma Inumaru: Man, you’ve really settled in, Tora!

Torao Mido: Well, there’s nothing I can’t do.

Touma Inumaru: But still, here you are talking about ticket machines and stuff, yet in "La’Stiara" you were looking all cool and glamorous holding that jewel… it's so unfair! 😆 ‼️

Torao Mido: "La’Stiara" has been close with my family ever since I was a kid, and we've been in their care. I doubt there's anyone better suited for this than me.

Touma Inumaru: Seriously!?

Touma Inumaru: So while I was desperately trying to get the marbles out of Ramune bottles and getting excited about pretty pebbles I found lying around, you were already holding actual jewels… 😳 ‼️

Torao Mido: It’s not like I wanted them. I was just supposed to have such things.

Torao Mido: But

Torao Mido: What kind of “pretty pebbles” are you talking about?

Touma Inumaru: Hmm, well, they don't compare to the jewels we held in our photoshoots, but sometimes you find these really clear and beautifully colored stones just lying around! 😳 ✨

Touma Inumaru: Or even ones that are super smooth and shiny! ✨

Torao Mido: Interesting…..

Touma Inumaru: Wanna go look for some next time!? We can invite Haru and Mina too!

Torao Mido: Think they'll come?

Touma Inumaru: Of course they will!! Stuff like this is fun no matter how old you get! 😆

Torao Mido: Is that so?

Torao Mido: Guess I’ll give it a try then

Touma Inumaru: Awesome! I’m happy I've got even more plans with you guys now 👍

Touma Inumaru: I mean, I never would've imagined this was even possible considering how we used to be!

Torao Mido: Touma, you get emotional about this kind of stuff a lot, huh?

Touma Inumaru: Yeah, but can you blame me?!! 😂 Tora starts liking the stuff we like, Haru eats sweets like they’re the tastiest thing ever right in front of us, and we go to the cool restaurants Mina finds together!

Touma Inumaru: What could possibly be better than this? 😂

Torao Mido: Yeah, maybe you’re right

Torao Mido: I think I get how you feel now, Touma

Torao Mido: I have a feeling the pretty pebbles we find together might be worth more than any jewels.

Touma Inumaru: Tora…

Touma Inumaru: I’m reaaallllyyy looking forward to our drive!!!

Touma Inumaru:

Torao Mido: Yeah. I am too

Torao Mido:

The End.

[babybatss-blog]

EUPHORIA

Link (TOTK) x f!reader, 700 words

Summary: Your dancing at the stable drives Link to a strange realisation.

Cw: written from 3rd persons pov, therefore y/n is used lots. Implied mental health issues in reader.

A picture-perfect serenity, with smoke bellowing out the nose of a cartoonish horse shaped tent, adorned with colourful reds and blues and purples of cloth flowing throughout where Y/n and Link are tonight. This scenic location appears to be the pure definition of stillness, the only sound being the rushing water in a river and the crickets chirping in the grass.

That is until you get closer, and suddenly the true reality unveils itself.

A cacophony of sounds is heard, such as guitar, singing and laughter, displaying happiness between the party of unlikely friends. At New Serene Stable the full moon is high as the many guests gather around singing folk songs passed down through generations of Hyrule, some even Link knows from his 100 years in the past. Link sit’s next to y/n at the campfire, listening to her angelic singing in a choir with the others.

“The seas are calm and blue, so welcoming anew.

The sky a piece of pie, soft and warm tonight.

The captain soars off in his boat its as if he can fly!”

This song invokes a weak memory within Link, a vision of the past where his father sang the very song to him in his tiny bed. It was made of straw, but he slept peacefully after hearing the soothing voice. Y/n on the other hand, remembers it in a very different way. Her classmates would go to the beach and scream the song at the top of their lungs to the boats passing by, giggling and doing cartwheels on the scorching sand. She sometimes wished that she could be a sailor herself, escaping towards a new adventure across the hypnotising ocean.

“The chef cooks up a storm, its tasty in this form.

Its lettuce tastes like water and without it you’re forlorn!”

One old man claps to the beat, swaying with a wide smile. Y/n immediately joins in with the others, an enthusiastic clap coming from them. Link subtly turns towards Y/n, noticing the twinkle in her eyes due to the campfire and pure joy collectively. A thought crosses his mind on how he wishes to see them in this state a million times again, but he pushes it away due to the pit quickly forming in his stomach.

Y/n leans towards Link whispering in his ear intimately. “You don’t know the words?” She asks, seeing a nervous smile appear on his face. “I know the words. I just, don’t like to sing.” He admits. She giggles at his embarrassment, half shocked and half endeared by this confession. They are so different, but also so intertwined in each other. Suddenly, she stands up along with a couple of little kids, who hold hands around the campfire. Y/n turns over her shoulder to look at Link, a grin on her face. “Join us?” He fervently shakes his head in response, seemingly repulsed by the idea. Y/n merely laughs, beginning to spin with the kids to the words resounding in the stable.

“Oh my Hylia said to me, this is where your meant to be.

A captain, chef, and a happy team all like a family!”

Y/n soon feels dizzy, hand in hand with ecstatic children that run around like monkeys. Despite this, her laughter is resounding, a brown skirt flowing in her movements. Truthfully, no matter how happy she is she wishes that Link would join her. Her eyes lock with his momentarily as she stands opposite from him, and some strange moment of connection ensues. She sees him as the nervous child too scared to make a move, and he sees her as the woman hiding away a deep seeding pain within. But they also see a beauty, one that they would never see in themselves but should as it shows their true selves.

And Link wonders… Why is this woman so perfect? Her hair flowing, her cheeks blushed and teeth shining are the definition of unadulterated joy, something he craves forever more.

Is this… Love?

[pjoxreader]

can you do something with jason, leo, and percy where they turn on the reader or something and they have to kill their s/o because someone told them that they were evil??

Reader Gets Betrayed by Their SO

TW (Death, Blood, Broken bones)

Jason Grace

-There you stood looking up at your boyfriend in the raging rain storm. Rain was pelting you as if it was hail. Thunder claps above the two of you illuminating his blonde hair and making his blue eyes seemingly glow in the cloudy gray storm clouds as he stares down at you coldly. -”Jason! Please!” You beg him, voice cracking as you plead. You couldn’t believe it, your boyfriend, the person you had trusted the most had turned against you. You wanted to believe he was being controlled, that this was some cruel monster forcing him to do this…

-But it wasn’t. You knew deep down that he wasn’t. Jason lands in front of you, flicking out his coin and summoning his sword. “Jason you don’t understand…” You try. But the look in his eye… He… He was determined to kill you. You never once imagined what it was like to be a monster…

-Yet now you felt bad for them, being forced to stare down these cruel eyes before their death. You force yourself to draw your sword as he charges you, the two of you clashing swords, you’re barely able to keep your defense up as your feet dig into the ground.

-Tears were forming in your eyes as you kicked him back to try and get space. But he kneels getting ready for a lunge. You… You didn’t have time to move. The same move you had spent hours in training to avoid… Would be your downfall? You could only gasp pathetically grabbing at his shirt in a last desperate attempt to get to him as you feel the blade enter your stomach. You barely manage to grab hold of his shirt looking down and seeing the blade impaled you through your stomach blood seeping down his blade. 

-You fall to your knees looking up at the sky as the rain pelts you, helping wash away your tears as you could only helplessly look at the one you used to love. “I… Love… You…” you manage to choke out through the blood before you lose all your energy collapsing to the ground. Jason lets out a feral yell of anguish into the storm as thunder roars above him as the lone survivor. 

Leo Valdez

-Oh how the fates were cruel. The only thing you wanted in this world was for someone to love you. And they granted you that. For two wonderful years you had dated your boyfriend enjoying every second of it.

-But the fates are restless. You were exhausted, trying to catch your breath as you stared down your boyfriend. “Leo… please… Please at least hear me out.” you beg him between breaths. Leo had his hammer at the ready, a few tears in his eyes as he stayed ready in his fighting stance. 

-”I don’t want to hear it, How could you… How could you betray camp…? How… How could you betray me?” his voice cracks at the end as he grips his hammer so tightly his knuckles turn white. With that he moves in closer to you raising the hammer high and bringing it down full force.

-You barely manage to block the attack with your sword, but it breaks in half the rest of Leo’s strike landing fully on your arm with a sick snap. You cry out in anguish falling back as you cling to your surely broken arm. -You try to move but you can't. You were just too tired to… You pant weakly looking up at the sky as you try to catch your breath. At least it was a beautiful day… Leo blocks your sight, tears going down his face as he lifts the hammer blocking the sun from your eyes.

-”I love you...” you say, giving him a last smile before the hammer swings down. You feel an anguished pain, dizziness but… But then the pain starts to fade. You could hear Leo sobbing but it was too far. You try to reach for him despite the fact you couldn’t see but to no avail, your hand goes limp before you could. 

Percy Jackson

-The beach had so many fond memories for you. Where you and percy first kissed, where he asked you out and you even had your first date here… But… But now you were trying to stand your ground against your boyfriend.

-You had seen percy lose himself in rage before but nothing like this. “No more… How… How many people are going to betray me!” he roars in anguish water raising to life behind him. You could only try to leap out of the way to avoid a blast of water that takes down a pine tree not far from you.

-”Percy please! I didn’t betray you! I wouldn’t!” you try to reason, barely avoiding another blast. It took everything you had to keep avoiding the strikes, but then your body tenses up as he holds his hand to you. You could feel every vein in your body clench. Was… Was he controlling your blood…?

-”Percy… Percy please…” you choke out feeling yourself fall under his control only barely able to plead him. “No more… No more!” He yells water rushing you in an intense flurry trapping you in a swirling vortex in a bubble.

-You gain control of your body, struggling to get free but you are spiraling inside the bubble unable to even reach out.Tears form in your eyes as you feel your lungs burning desperately clawing at your throat as you attempt to breathe.

-You pathetically reach out to Percy in a last silent plea but he only stares at you, those cold eyes as cruel and dark as the ocean stare into your soul as your vision starts to fade. The last bubbles of air leaving your throat with those eyes being the last sight you ever see.

 

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

[onskepa]

Hi!

Can we get a part 2 for fyolup? She came to visit Neteyam at the metkayina and wears bikini for swimming. Aonung seems to eye her and neteyam turns into a protective jealous bf

Oooooooooooh gotta love a jelly na'vi bf! Hope you like this one!

Fyolup pt1

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

Fyolup: Eyes on me

When neteyam was told that his cute fyolup was coming with Norm to the metkayina village, he was over the moon. How he missed her so much! There was so much neteyam to tell her. What he learned, how his new life settled, but most of all, how much he has grown. And of course show off what he is capable of. Not to mention his new tattoos on his arm. 

Already neteyam has things planned out for when she arrives. A full day of great activities, some including his siblings and some just for them two. Just thinking about it gets him riled up. 

But also, Neteyam wonders what cute clothing fyolup would wear? Something suitable but also stylish to fit her taste. Of course, knowing her, fyolup would wear something for his eyes only and no one else.

“Neteyam!” 

The sweet sound of the voice he longed to hear again called out to him. On the sandy beach, not too far from him stood was fyulop. She has grown a lot in the past few months. Wearing his favorite teal summer dress, and a bright smile on her cute face. 

Unable to hold it in, neteyam makes a run for it, and so does fyulop. Meeting each other in the middle, the girl jumps into his arms as he holds her tightly as he spun her around. Loud laughter escaped their lips, wide smiles and great happiness. For fyulop, it felt so good to be back in her lover’s arms. The feel of his skin touching hers, hearing his voice again. She missed it so much. 

Not putting her down, rather carrying her on his shoulder, they stare at each other's eyes and foreheads touching. “I missed you ma’sevin” neteyam whispers to her ear. Humming in agreement, she nods. “And I have missed you ma’yawne” she replies. Having not rush to go back home, neteyam takes his time to show her firstly the grand beach. Holding her tightly so that she doesn't fall, not like she will. Neteyam starts to talk, letting his mind wander on recent memories. 

And fyulop is all more eager to listen. 

“Neteyam, while I appreciate you looking at me for a long time, I am having self doubts now. Does it look good or not…?” Fyulop asks nervously. When she revealed her swimsuit, neteyam was in deep awestruck. He couldn't help but stare at her. 

Her swimming outfit was a two piece. Strapless top with a matching bottom that was light blue with thin waving white lines. Giving the illusion of underwater lighting. To add to her personal touch, fyulop collected small shells from the beach and added it to her swimsuit. It is the little things that make things stand out more. 

“I'm sorry love, it's just…oh eywa you look breathtaking” neteyam praises. Red hue colored fyulop’s cheeks. She certainly missed his praises. 

Offering his hand, fyulop accepts. “Come on, there is so much I want to show you” neteyam tells her excitedly. Taking her from his family pod, he carefully leads her through the rather bouncy paths. Fyulop couldn't help but giggle as she bounces her way. It was like jumping on a trampoline!

“Here, this is an ilu, like the dire horses at home. The people here use like in similar ways” neteyam explains while gently holding his ilu. Fyulop strokes its head gently, liking the pleasing sounds. And the ilu makes a sound of happiness, nudging his head against hers. 

“He likes you” neteyam comments. 

“I'm glad, cause I like him too. Such an adorable cutie you are” fyulop says in her baby voice. 

Not far from where they are, ao’nung, rotxo, and lo’ak were nearing the shore with their ilu’s. Ao’nung noticed the human girl, his eyes fixated on her. 

“Hey lo’ak, who is that?” he asks while pointing at fyulop. Lo’ak sees where he pointing at, “oh, that is fyulop. She came with our uncle norm to visit. Don't worry, she is harmless' ' lo'ak answers. But Ao'nung still couldn't stop staring at her or her pretty smile. 

“Is she single?”

“Hey fyulop, long time no see” Lo’ak welcomes the human girl with glee. Giving each other a warm hug, lo’ak joins in on whatever she and neteyam were doing. “So you are just going to ignore us lo’ak?” Rotxo teases behind the forest boy. Chuckling a bit, lo’ak shakes his head. “Right, sorry”. 

Gently pushing ao’nung and rotxo in front of him, he points at who is who, “fyulop, this is ao’nung and rotxo. Guys, this is fyulop, she was born and raised here in pandora like spider” lo’ak introduces. 

Fyulop giggled lightly, something that made ao’nung blush a tiny bit. Her giggles sounded so cute. He looks over and sees neteyam staring down at her with love and adoration. Crap, are they together? Hopefully not. 

“Nice to meet you both. I hope you treated neteyam and his family well?” Fyulop asks. This made the boys chuckle nervously. “What? What happened? Did you guys fight each other?” Fyulop asks curiously. 

“Well…you see..”

“Skxawngs. All of you. Especially you neteyam. It is much for lo’ak to start but for you to continue it?” Fyulop gently scolds the boys as they tell her about their rough start of getting along. She gently tugs neteyam’s ear while making a playful yet serious face. Neteyam couldn't help but chuckle, her fingers were to ticklish! 

Ao’nung saw their interaction, feeling his tail thump against the sand rather harshly. 

“Speaking of, how much has neteyam showed you of our home?” he asks, switching the subject. Fyulop took a moment to think, “so far the pods, the beach and the cute ilu’s” she replies. Ao’nung make a clicking sound, shaking his head. “Clearly he is skipping the more exciting stuff. Why not let me show you the better parts of our home?” he offers. 

Fyulop gasps happily, “really?” she asks. 

“Of course, what better guide than me?” 

Fyulop looks up to neteyam, her eyes already asking the question. He sighs, “he is right, but still”. 

Taking the chance, ao’nung gets up and gently grabs fyulop’s hand already leading her the way. As he and fyulop began to chat, neteyam, lo’ak and rotxo looked at ao’nung with a surprised expression on their faces. 

“Oh no he didn't” 

“Oh yes he did”

“And here is where we mostly trade things. Fish for beads, seaweed for grains, just about anything. There is something for everyone” Ao’nung shows fyulop the common areas that the na’vi spend their time. He showed her all the best places, ao’nung was pretty proud and a bit smug too. Getting cute reactions from fyulop was a treat. Even better to see neteyam fuming behind them. 

Fyulop was enjoying sightseeing. The metkayina was so vastly different from the omatikaya! From how they look, to their ways, culture and style of clothing. Already fyulop had ideas of creating ocean inspired clothing. Maybe style it similar to how the metkayina do. 

Neteyam on the other hand did not enjoy it. Nope. Not one bit. 

If looks could kill, ao’nung would be deep in the belly of an akula. 

Ao’nung had the sheer balls to not only touch fyulop but also hug her! Fyulop’s hugs are exclusive to neteyam only! Ok maybe his siblings too but mostly him! And too see that puny fishy skxawng touching his beloved made his anger rise deep within. 

And poor fyulop, took caught up in the new experiences didn't notice what fishlips was clearing trying to do. 

Well, as her boyfriend and protector, neteyam knows what slimy things that fishy na’vi prince can do.

If ao’nung knew just how easy it was to sway fyulop to trust him, he would have done it on the spot! Fyulop is just so cute and her clothing suits her figure. Actually, speaking of her clothing. 

Ao’nung haven't really seen much of how humans dress. So to see this human girl dress in a certain way excites him. There is a lot to learn and see something new within fyulop and hopefully be closer to her.

However, as days pass, almost as if on purpose, ao’nung takes fyulop’s time most of the day. Taking her wherever he wants, personally teaches her many things neteyam wanted to show her, among other things. And would shove the poor forest boy to the side. Giving no room for neteyam to intervene. 

And it was pissing neteyam off. 

Having enough of it, he did the only thing he knew best.

“You know fyulop, you interest me a lot. It would be nice if you stayed longer. Spending time with you has been a lot of fun” Ao’nung tells fyulop. Together they walk across the sandy shores, the small waves of the sea barely touching their feet. 

“It certainly has been a lot of fun. And while living here seems like a good idea, I worry for neteyam. He already has enough stuff to worry about” 

Ao’nung makes an annoyed sigh. “I doubt that. But either way, at least think it over. We could have a lot more fun. Together”. He holds fyulop’s hands into his larger ones. Making eye contact and hopefully what he is trying to do works. 

Only it didn't. 

Fyulop was gently yanked back by an angry neteyam. 

“I think you had enough time with her,” Neteyam says. Trying his best not to hiss at ao’nung. But the reef prince scoffs a bit smugly. “And who are you to choose for her? She can do what she wants”. 

“You’re absolutely right ao’nung” Fyulop agrees. 

The boy smirks at neteyam who only glares harder. 

“That means I can do this” 

With a gentle yet quick yank from his necklace, neteyam was yanked down and was given the most passionate kiss ever. 

Fyulop was kissing him as if to prove something. And boy did neteyam enjoyed it. With zero hesitation, neteyam kisses back, laughing on the inside. If he were to have a fourth finger right now, he would be flipping it in ao’nungs face. 

“And, what I want to do is spend my time with my sweet neteyam. Thank you ao’nung for showing me, but I think neteyam can take it from here” fyulop says with a not so innocent smile. 

Ao’nung was shocked, flabbergasted, speechless, and everything else. Damn it. 

“You heard her skxawng” Neteyam says with a victorious smirk on his face. Clicking his tongue, ao’nung leaves in defeat. 

With a happy cheer, neteyam picks up his love and spins her around. 

“You were so jealous~” the girl teases as she boops his nose. But neteyam caught her finger, gently nibbling it. “And you watched me. Didn't do anything to ease my heart” neteyam accuses. This made fyulop stroke his ears as she leans closer and asks in a cooing manner, “Than what can I do to ease your jealous heart?” 

He grins and replies “you know what” 

Aaaaaaaand that is it for this one! Was cute to write. Until next time! See ya!

[featherandferns]

daylight - seven

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 7 of the daylight series | read part 6 here

content warnings: none

word count: 2.7k.

blurb: with JJ gone the next morning, you distract yourself with work and reunite with Barry at the garage. The next day, following a surf day at the beach, you find yourself worried that this thing with JJ may do more damage than it's worth.

Just as he had when the two of you fell asleep at the Chateau; JJ is gone in the morning. You’re groggy as you turn over in bed. Picking up your phone, you find a text from Mimsy. It’s a winking emoji accompanying a picture of her in a guy’s bed, with Darren’s sleeping back facing the camera. Laughing quietly, you text a reply requesting a debrief later. You open the Pogue group chat next and scroll through the typical banter-like chatter. Kiara mentions a surfing day soon and you reply, telling her tomorrow would be better than today.

You had a photography gig lined up today. A photoshoot of a new, hippie-style smoothie bar that had opened near Figure Eight by some trust-fund college graduate. They were willing to pay you a hundred for the pictures alone and another twenty-five if you edited them on their behalf. After that, you needed to edit the pictures from the Country Club gala since you got side-tracked last night.

With the mundanity of your morning routine, it’s hard to believe JJ had been around the night before. If it weren’t for the polaroid pictures which have your face light on fire (and are promptly stuffed at the bottom of your sock drawer), you’d think you might have hallucinated the whole thing. You’d be lying to say that you weren’t a little crestfallen to not find a text from JJ. 

It feels strange to drive your car after hitching so many lifts with JJ in the Twinkie. It’s when you’re halfway to the smoothie bar that your car makes a concerning, clunking noise. After the incident a couple months back, you’re ready for the thing to start steaming again. Thankfully, it doesn’t, but it prompts you to visit Barry’s garage after your photoshoot. 

Wandering into the garage, the smell of cigarettes hits you hard and strong. There’s old sixties rock playing through the speakers, the quality crackly, and you venture the isles looking for a worker. You end up poking your head into the main body-works section, rapping politely on the open door. 

“Hello? Anybody here?”

A man grunts and appears from behind a car. It’s Barry. He’s got an oil streak on his cheek and his sleeves are rolled up, revealing his fading tattoos. He eyes you up from across the room. 

“Do I know you?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m JJ’s friend? We came by here a few weeks back now,” you say, semi-awkward. Barry wags a finger at you as his memory jogs. 

“You’re the one with the busted radiator, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” you smile. “Listen, uh, it’s making a weird noise again and I don’t know squat about cars. I was wondering if you could give it a look? I’d be more than willing to pay, even for a glance over.”

Barry shoves his hands in his overall pockets and shrugs. “Course. JJ’s friend, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, anything for that kid,” Barry’s gruff voice says. He wanders over to you and follows you out to your car. Cracking open the bonnet, he talks as he inspects the engine. “You know, that kid’s pretty smart with these things, too. He’d make a hell of mechanic. You could’ve just asked him to check it over for you.”

“Oh. I mean, he checked it out when I broke down but I didn’t know he was that savvy with it,” you reply. 

“Hell yeah. Shame his dad’s such a bastard cause he’s got a hell of a mind for mechanics, too,” Barry chuckles, sounding almost sad as he does. “Poor kid got dealt a rough hand.”

“Yeah, uh, I get the sense he has a tricky relationship with his dad,” you tentatively say.

Barry spares you a glance. His eyes hold years of grief. “Don’t think his old man knows how lucky he is to have that kid around.”

Your mind darts back to the photo on the pinboard of his child. Smiling sympathetically, you nod. “He’s pretty special.”

“Damn straight,” Barry grunts in agreement. Then he continues inspecting your car in silence. 

You liked Kildare. The people were genuine and real. They looked out for each other on the Cut; offered a helping hand, generous with loans and handiwork. Sometimes it seemed quality of character was more important than money. You liked that way of thinking. Maybe if everyone took that line of thought onboard, the world could be a brighter place. 

“Well, I don’t see anything wrong,” Barry concludes, closing the bonnet. “Might’ve just been a screw or something shifting, or the brakes after going over a pothole. I wouldn’t stress.”

“Thanks,” you say. “I just thought it best to check it out.”

You reach into your pocket and pull out your wallet, fishing around for some dollar bills. Barry frowns at you and shakes his head. 

“You ain’t gotta do all that,” he says. 

“I insist,” you reply. “I mean, you’ve already helped me out for free before.”

“Nah, you’re good,” Barry returns. “Just leave us a good review or something. Could do with some more customers these days.”

You glance at the garage with that. It looks old and rickety, with dust stained windows and a tin roof. The font of the sign that lines the store is reminiscent of the seventies. You wouldn’t be surprised if it hadn’t been updated since then. 

“You know,” you say, looking back to him, “I do some photography. I’d be happy to pay you back by taking a few shots for some promo.”

He quirks a brow. “You any good?”

You dig out your camera from your bag and open the gallery, holding it out to him. Flicking through the shots of the smoothie bar, you let him take his time. His lips purse and brows raise, seemingly impressed. 

“These are pretty good. You sure you wouldn't mind?” he asks, handing it back. You smile and shake your head. 

“It’s the least I can do,” you reply. 

“Alright. You got yourself a deal. Come by whenever and we’ll get it sorted,” Barry returns, sticking out his hand for you to shake. You do so gladly. “What’s your name by the way?” 

You tell him. A sombre smile softens Barry’s wrinkled features. “That’s what we were gonna name my little girl.”

You’re not sure what to say and so you smile kindly at him. As you drive back home, you can’t help but feel as though you’ve made a friend. There’s the nagging feeling to tell JJ about it all but you don’t. Besides, he still hasn’t texted you since last night. 

The next day you go surfing. Walking up through the dunes, you find the Pogues on the beach dressed in swimsuits. Kiara is sitting on a towel, rubbing sunscreen into her leg, whilst the guys stand around talking. Their boards are scattered around them. Pope spots you first and waves. You wave back with your free hand, the other holding a White Claw. You’ve barely reached them before JJ’s hooking an arm over John B’s shoulder. 

“Hey, hey! Take a picture of us!” 

“She literally just got here,” Kiara scolds. 

Rolling your eyes, you entertain JJ. Fishing your camera out of your tote bag, you click it on, hold it up and take a mediocre shot. “Happy?”

“Yep,” JJ grins, letting John B free. 

Kiara stands up and grabs her board, dressed in leopard-print bikini bottoms and a plum-shaded bikini top. Before she can move, you blurt out for her to hold still and snap a sideways photo of her. 

“We didn’t just invite you here to be our personal photographer,” Pope assures you. 

Laughing, you ditch your tote bag on the towel. “I don’t mind. You guys take good photos.”

JJ wanders over to you, pinches your can of seltzer to have a swig, and looks out to the sea. “Waves look pretty decent today, right?”

“Hell yeah,” Kiara grins. Looking at you, she asks, “you joining?”

“I’m gonna take some shots first,” you smile. JJ passes you back your drink; you down it and place the can in the methodical ‘trashbag’ Kie brought. Ditching your shirt and shorts, you join the others to wander down to the waterfront, everyone talking over each other. John B and Pope wade out into the water with Kie, and then they start paddling deeper into the depths. JJ lingers beside you for a moment. 

“You sure you don’t wanna join?”

“I will in a minute,” you say. Lifting your camera, you add, “the lighting’s just really good today.”

“Alright,” he shrugs, walking into the waves. Looking back to you, he loudly adds, “you look hot in that bikini, by the way!”

You hide your fluster with an eye roll, waving him off into the water. A cheeky, knowing grin turns away from you as he paddles out, calling out to the others. As the sun beats down on the beach, you adjust the camera settings and focus on one friend at a time. Kiara dips in and out of the waves, curly hair flowing behind her, face set in focus. John B and Pope bend and lean, tightening their cores, the shadows of the rolling water enhancing the beauty to their form. Naturally, JJ is your favourite. Maybe it’s the smile on his face, brimming and bright, like he was born in the sea and destined to surf its waves. He makes it look easy. Rakes a hand through his hair from time to time, like he’s taking a leisurely stroll down the street. When he catches your camera on him, he points to you with a holler. You manage to snap a shot before he bails. The next one you get is of him, sinking into the aquamarine waves. You take that as your cue to ditch your camera with the rest of the belongings, snatch up your board and join them in the waves. JJ cheers you on as you pass him by, a little rusty in your technique. They were right: it was perfect weather for it. The water was tamer today than it had been in other sessions. Not as brutal in its churning of you when you bail off. 

Somehow, the five of you find yourself sat atop of your boards in a circle, chatting away as the sun dries your water-speckled bodies. 

“I think that’s it’s completely unjust,” Kie complains in her environmentalist spiel. She looks to you, “I mean, it’s–”

Her brows knit as she looks at something on your neck. 

“Is that a hickey?”

You glance down, lifting a finger to your skin, and realise that the shabby concealer work you’d done that morning had rubbed off on your t-shirt and washed away with the sea water. The picture of abashed, your eyes dart down to the water. 

“Uh…No.”

“Yes it is!” Kie grins. 

Pope paddles over and investigates it like a doctor might.

“Definitely not a rash or a burn.”

“I will push you off your board, Pope, I swear to God,” you grumble. He takes a wary paddle backwards. 

“Who the hell did that to you?” John B sniggers. 

Your eyes glance fleetingly to JJ, hopefully without the other’s notice. He’s sat watching it all unfold with a proud, shit-eating grin. Asshole. 

“Nobody.”

“So you’re saying it’s a phantom hickey?” Pope jokes in his bizarre Pope way. You push him off his board with that. He crashes into the water as the others laugh. Through their laughter, you overhear Kie talking to JJ. 

“Why do you look so smug?” 

“We should probably head back to shore,” you announce, “me and JJ gotta start heading to work soon.”

Turning away, you start paddling back to shore before anybody can argue. Never much to dwell, the group happily abandons their line of questioning and follow. On land, you dry off and dress. John B and Pope start battling over a bag of chips and Kiara has taken off collecting stray pieces of litter along the beach. JJ wanders up to you and pinches your butt. Spinning around, you glare at him. 

“Thanks for your help back there,” you say lowly. 

JJ shrugs, grinning, “fun watching you squirm.”

You swat his leg with your towel and he cusses with a laugh, hopping away from you. “Dry off. We got work in fifteen.”

JJ mimics you in a high-pitched echo but does as you say, rubbing himself dry of salt water. The five of you share the load as you walk back to the Twinkie. JJ drives, dropping the others at the Chateau before taking the both of you to the Country Club.

“Our deal still on?” JJ asks you. 

“Hell yeah. Get ready to pay up,” you grin. 

The two of you had made a bet the other day, about who would hear the phrase “excuse me” more. You debate  bringing up the other night, as the two of you ride to work, but you pull up to the country club before you have a chance to muster-up the courage. 

Venturing into the staff room, you and JJ open your respective lockers and begin to change into your uniforms. 

“Listen, I hear it way more than you do,” you say to JJ, referring back to the ‘excuse me’ battle,  as you pull on your blouse. “‘Excuse me, miss, can you take a picture of me and my family?’ ‘Excuse me miss, can you get one of me and my wife?’”

“Oh, come off it,” JJ sniggers. “ ‘Excuse me sir, get me one of those shrimp cocktails.’ ‘Excuse me sir, I need a refill.’”

“Your customers sound a lot less polite than mine,” you snort. 

“Tell me about it,” he grumbles. He tugs his shirt off and you watch the muscles of his back ripple. As JJ buttons up his work shirt, he turns to you and smirks. “You might wanna cover that up.”

You glance down to once more find your hickey poking out. Buttoning up your blouse, you shoot him a half-amused glare. “Next time can you put it in an easier to hide place?”

“Nah,” JJ leers, clearing the distance between you. His fingers reach out to brush at your collarbone. “You have a spot right here that makes you squirm.”

The intensity of his unwavering stare traps you in place like you’re under Medusa’s watch. Someone walks into the staff changing room - Larry, from the kitchen - and JJ takes a step away from you, turning back to his bag.

“Hey man,” he nods to Larry. 

“Yo.”

And just like that he goes about getting ready as if he hardly knows you. Sends you a cordial smile and nod as he departs, with a fleeting “see you later”.

It shouldn’t sting as much as it does. And maybe it wouldn’t, if it weren’t for Tyler. If it weren’t for how screamingly familiar it felt to how you spent six months of your life in Vancouver.

That softness in JJ’s eyes, hidden behind laughter and rambunctious shenanigans and even anger, at times, reminds you of Tyler. Brings back that girlish thought: that all girls want a guy to look at them like that, and only them. Have that gentleness saved just for you. It reminds you of how you felt with your ex. How he used to be different around you in an inexplicable way. Soft, kind, vulnerable. Real. He’d hold you and spin you around, and make you feel safe and special, until you realise that it only happened when he was with just you. That around everyone else, even your friends, he was distant and distracted. He wouldn’t hold your hand. Wouldn’t kiss your lips, let alone your cheek. Leave you to fend for yourself in conversations, like treading water in the sea, whilst he and his family sat, relaxing on a yacht only feet away. Relied on the excuse ‘I was going to…’ and became a master at apologising. Slowly, with time, it stopped feeling like a privilege to know only that side of him when nobody was looking. Instead, it began to feel like a curse. And JJ, with his smug silence at the beach and passivity in the changing room, you were worried that you might be retracing your steps.

That thought leaves a bad taste in your mouth from the moment you leave the changing rooms, and it lingers like stale coffee on your tongue long after the end of your shift. 

read part eight here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank | @lilyw1235 | @belle101200

[adrealucia]

New Beginnings

Summary: After relocating to the picturesque town of Puerto Lobos in Mexico, you quickly realize that your car is in dire need of repair. With little knowledge of local mechanics, a friendly neighbor recommends you visit Diaz’s Garage, run by the talented Sean Diaz. Sean, a hardworking and kind-hearted mechanic, welcomes you warmly. As he works on your car, you strike up a conversation, discovering that Sean and his brother Daniel moved to Puerto Lobos a few years ago, seeking peace and a new beginning after a tumultuous past. Sean’s dedication to his work is evident as he skillfully repairs your car. Meanwhile, Daniel, now sixteen, balances school and helps out around the garage. He occasionally joins in the conversation, displaying his sharp wit and curiosity about your life and experiences. As the days pass, you find yourself drawn to the garage, not just for the impeccable car service, but for the genuine companionship you find with Sean and Daniel. You start to learn more about their past, their dreams, and the close-knit bond that holds them together. In return, you share your own stories, finding solace and understanding in their company. tags: post Blood Brothers ending, Sean Diaz x Reader, might contain smut in future chapters, lots of fluff, romantic fluff, overall just fucking wholesome, obviously mentions Daniel quite often, sfw in the beginning, maybe nsfw in the future idk

Chapter one

The dusty road leading to Puerto Lobos was bathed in the golden light of the late afternoon sun. As you navigated your car through the narrow streets, the vibrant colors of the town's buildings and the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore offered a warm welcome. You had moved to this small coastal town in Mexico seeking a fresh start, a place where the past could be left behind and new memories could be made. It wasn’t easy getting here, but it was all worth it in the end. Just the thought of your beautiful small house right at the beach makes you feel accomplished and happy all over again. 

But today, your thoughts were dominated by the sputtering sound coming from your car. To be completely fair your car had gone a long way, all the way down from Washington to here, Puerto Lobos. With a frustrated sigh, you pulled over to the side of the road, glancing at the smoke wafting from the hood. Well, this certainly didn’t take very long. You have been having these kinds of problems with your car for a whole while now, but it’s never been this bad before. A friendly local had mentioned a reliable mechanic in town—Diaz’s Garage. You checked the address scribbled on a piece of paper “Oh that’s actually not far at all” you whispered to yourself and set off on foot, hoping that the mechanic could work his magic.

The garage was a modest but bustling place, filled with the scent of oil and the clinking sounds of tools. Inside, a tall young man with dark hair and a focused expression was working on a vintage truck. He looked up as you approached, wiping his hands on a rag and offering a welcoming smile. At first, you do not notice it but giving a closer look you notice that he is missing an eye. You wonder what had happened to him? 

"Hey there," he greeted, his eyes kind yet weary. "Can I help you with something?"

Relieved that he did not start speaking Spanish you gave him a thankful smile and you explained your car trouble, he nodded, introducing himself as Sean Diaz. As he listened, you couldn't help but notice the way he moved with quiet confidence, every action precise and efficient. It was clear that this garage was not just his workplace but his sanctuary.

You led him to your car, and with a few deft movements, he began diagnosing the problem. "Looks like it’s going to need some work, but nothing I can’t handle," he said reassuringly. "Why don’t you come back in a couple of hours? I should have it running smoothly by then." You sigh internally, it’s not like you thought that he would fix your car on the spot but you also did not really make a plan on what to do now. For a second you look around noticing you only ever drive through this part of down and have never actually explored it. Maybe you could find a nice place to sit down and have some food? 

“Thank you so much, I would have been totally lost if your shop hadn’t been near.” Thankfully you smile up at him again. It’s so good to finally meet someone who is actually fluent in English, even though practicing your Spanish can be fun as well. Usually, when you try to talk to natives they look at you all smiley and kind and the next thing they are doing is getting out their phone to open up the translator app. It’s kind of hard practicing your language skills when no one actually wants to try to communicate with you. But you are learning, just not as fast as you expected to, and since you already had a few years of Spanish classes in school you know most of the basics. You look up at the mechanic again and tilt your head a little bit to the side. “Say.. is there a good place for food around here? …that I can obviously reach by foot, that is.” He nods enthusiastically and gives you a reassuring tilt of his lips, a very kind smile. “Yea, actually just around the corner there is a little restaurant, if you don’t know about it I am sure many people would miss it. But when we moved here first this woman saved our asses. She doesn’t speak much English but just tell her I said hi and I bet she will cook you something very nice.” This actually sounds very nice you think to yourself and reach out your hand to give him a polite handshake. “Okay well thank you for the recommendation and also for trying to fix my car.” He accepts your handshake and chuckles lightly. “No worries and oh this should be easy to fix, gimme like let’s say two and a half hours and you can come back to a nice and well-working car.” 

“Alright see you in two and a half hours then.” You wave your hand as you are saying goodbye to him and turn around to walk the other way. The streets of Puerto Lobos were alive with activity—children playing, street vendors selling vibrant fruits and handmade crafts, and the distant sound of a song coming from speakers out of one of these stores adding a festive backdrop to the scene. As you wandered, you felt the first inklings of belonging in this charming town. He told you that the little restaurant was just around the corner but honestly as much as you were looking for it you could not find it. Well, Mr. Diaz also mentioned that if you didn’t know that it’s there you would surely miss it. You knew about these types of Restaurants where it kind of almost looked like you would walk into somebody’s actual home, so you decided to try and look around as if you were a native to this city. Which in theory was easy, but actually doing it didn’t change the fact that you are in fact not a fucking native. Suddenly the smell of fresh herbs and spices caught your nose and you looked around trying to figure out where this smell came from. After looking around for a while you actually found a little house that grasped your interest. The door was wide open and from the outside, you could see a tiny woman cooking something up. “That must be it.” 

Okay, now it would be time to pray that this woman would also actually understand what you want from her. “Please please, school just pay out this once.” you form your hands into a little prayer position as you walk up to the door. 

“Hola.” You say stepping into the little restaurant. The woman looks up at you and goes back to whatever she was doing before. Okay… she definitely knows that you are not from around here, so now you gotta use your poor Spanish skills, your hands, and your feet. This is going to be fucking embarrassing. 

“¿Puedo conseguir algo de comer aquí?” (can I get something to eat?) You ask while trying to do your best at pantomime. “Well, Mr. Diaz said you wouldn’t understand any English but he told me to say hi to you.” you felt like a total idiot talking English to this woman who obviously has no clue what you are trying to tell her. Though, as you say the name Diaz her head perks up and suddenly a lot of words that you do not understand are leaving her mouth at the speed of light. At first, you are a little unsure if she is mad and seconds away from kicking you out, but then she gives you a big smile and gestures to you to sit down. “Friend? Sean Diaz?” She asks with a heavy accent but you have no problem understanding that one word and the name of the mechanic. “Ah, Sí…” you say and nod your head while sitting down on one of the tables. She continues to speak Spanish but she doesn’t even really seem like she is trying to talk to you, more like she is talking to herself, so you are also not really trying to answer her. 

It doesn’t even take her long before she places a beverage on your table and makes a gesture that shows you should wait some more. It is a hot day so you thank her enthusiastically and take one sip of the drink that immediately helps against your dry throat. You have absolutely no clue what’s in this drink but you couldn’t bother less, this was fucking good. 

A few more minutes passed and the lady set down three big ass plates in front of you. Oh, how are you supposed to finish all of that? 

You ate as much as you could and thanked the woman like five times because Sean Diaz was right. She is a hell of a good cook. In the end, you couldn’t finish all three plates and had a bunch of leftovers, however, you decided it might be nice to bring these leftovers with you back to the Diaz shop. That would be nice of you and totally not weird right? 

Now just how were you going to ask her for bags? 

It took some time but in the end, you just had to mention Sean’s name one more time, probably paid her way too much money and somehow you ended up with a bag and even more food. She put some dessert into the bag as well, even though you tried to stop her but honestly, you wouldn’t have wanted to put up a fight against this lady. 

 When you returned to the garage, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the floor. Sean was just finishing up with your car, and beside him stood a younger boy with a mischievous grin. He was animatedly talking about his day at school, and Sean listened with the patience and attention of someone who deeply cared.

"Hey, you’re back…just in time," Sean called out, noticing your approach. "This is my brother, Daniel."

Daniel turned to you, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Hi! Sean fixed your car already? He's really good at this stuff."

You smiled, introducing yourself and thanking Sean for his help. “You found the restaurant?” he asked, smiling sheepishly down at you. For a second you could feel yourself blush, but why? “Yea took me some time… also I hope this is not weird or anything but I brought you my leftovers plus additional dessert. This lady must really love you because as soon as I said your name she stuffed these cakes into the bag.” Daniels’s mouth opened wide as he walked towards you, eyes fixated on the bag. “Woah I love Mrs. Perez and this is so kind of you because you must know my brother is a horrible cook.” Sean laughed so loud and kind-heartedly it seemed to warm your insides. They really seem to be nice people. “Well, she knows I am a bad cook, that's why she filled up this whole bag.” his loud laughing swelled down to a little chuckle. “Well… that’s very kind of you… actually, I haven’t asked your name yet, have I?” 

You shake your head and give him a reassuring smile, you couldn’t care less right now if this man asked you for your name because he already fixed your car and he made sure you got a shit ton of very good food. “Oh, I am (Y/N)” You set the bag down on a nearby table and watch as Daniel immediately goes to grab it and rummages through the bag. “Oh look Sean, she gave us Tarta de Queso!” 

You and Sean both couldn’t help but laugh a little at Daniel, even though he looked around sixteen to seventeen he still seemed to be very excited when it came to dessert. “Well, Daniel I think it would only be nice to share some of this cake with (Y/N) since she is the one responsible for our dinner.” He pointed at the cake and then over to you. You wouldn’t have brought it up but you also couldn’t lie, you really wanted to try a piece of this really delicious-looking cake. Daniel sighed but chuckled a bit “That only seems fair.” 

“Now I am going to pack this piece of cake up for you and then we will let you go, I am sure you have somewhere to be.” Said Sean as he took the bag and left you and Daniel alone in the garage. You and Daniel made some polite small talk, mostly talking about past experiences with the lady - or Mrs. Perez as you learned - from the restaurant. 

Sean didn’t take long and came back to hand you your very own bag filled with some cake and also a few more pastries. He gave you a little wink and placed a finger to his lips, showing you to keep quiet probably because of Daniel. He also handed you the keys to your now-repaired car. "It should be as good as new. If you have any more trouble, just come by." “Thank you so so much, I wouldn’t know what I would have done without you today.” You sigh and grab your keys. “How much do I owe you for this?” You gesture to the car, knowing that you most definitely don’t have enough cash on you. Sean just chuckled and shook his head. “Ah don’t worry the first time is on the house… also you brought us this whole bag of food.” 

Your eyes widen in disbelief, on the house? Wow, these people really are kind. “Oh, this is…” You’re lost for words for a second. “This is really really kind of you thank you so much.” 

“Oh, don’t worry, I like to help people out. Now if you ever need something just let us know.” He said as you slowly got into your car, nodded, and smiled up big at him. You wave to him and Daniel goodbye as you gently drive out of the garage. 

As you drove away, you couldn’t help but feel a connection forming. In this new place, amidst the beauty and simplicity of Puerto Lobos, you had found not just a skilled mechanic but potential friends in Sean and Daniel Diaz. Little did you know, this encounter was just the beginning of a journey that would intertwine your lives in ways you could never have imagined. authors note: omg okay I am so fucking nervous to post this, but also kind of excited!! I have been meaning to write a fic for quite some time now and I am so so happy to continue this story. If you've made it this far tysm and ily <3 I hope you liked the first chapter of my new story :) I already published it on ao3 (this was so tough to figure out since I never uploaded it on ao3 before) and I am still debating whether or not to post it on Wattpad as well. Anyway even though I am working on this fic now my requests are still open! might take me some time to finish them now, but I am so happy to be a part of this community :) <333

[oldestenemy]

So Polaris it is.

The wizard is not keen on dealing with Coleridge again—though they believe he is finally free of whatever Old Cob did to addle his poor brain. It doesn’t matter. He is a sour memory at best. He is the drawing echo of the Black Hole, the thunderous warnings of the Astral Guardians. He is a living reminder that they are naive enough to overlook traps when desperate. Worse still are the words that come out of his mouth, not the denial of help—they don’t care about that, he can drink himself to death on Polaris for all they care—but the solution he offers. The captain they should seek out. The world he is exploring.

“Something about an asteroid—”

“—comet.” the wizard corrects Taylor, voice monotone and empty.

Azteca.

They have to go back to Azteca.

“Wizard?”

Their gaze slips from Taylor to Duncan, eyes flickering—brown—gold—back. They can barely even hear him. It’s just screaming. It’s all screaming. The key is gone, the key is gone and Azteca is as good as dead, is burning and blistering under a hailstorm of glass and rock for the rest of time and—

—are they crying?

Normal tears, heat and salt, still following the path carved out for them by bitter Shadow.

“We’ll need a ship.” They manage without their voice cracking, pulling their hood up in an attempt to regain any semblance of control, of composure. “There is no key for Azteca, the doors aren’t an option—”

“—Aye, my vessel can be spared a one-way trip—as stated my skyfaring days are over.” Taylor hands them a glowing piece of some sort of crystal. “That’s connected to the fountain on board, it’ll take you straight there. Still docked in the ice floes, but I imagine you’ll manage getting her back in the sky alright. Nothing compared to our journey through the Starfall Sea.”

The wizard nods again.

They don’t know what to say.

Grief roils in their gut, mingling with guilt and old anger they feel, for once, too young to carry.

“Oh and if you see our dear friend Old Cobb—let him know he’ll always drink for free at RataTiki!”

A huff that might be a laugh, might be a noise of derision, “I’ll tell him.” the words come out in triplicate, starlight like blood on their tongue. The wizard swallows hard, shakes their head. “Enjoy the rest of your life, Captain.”

Somehow they suspect he hasn’t got much of it left.

~*~

Duncan keeps his mouth shut until they make it onto the ice where Coleridge’s ship is…less docked and more crashed. Though the wizard thinks Taylor was lucky to make it this far at all, considering the state the ship had been in when they’d found the wreck on Crescent Beach.

“Remind me why we walked here instead of using the crystal?”

The wizard doesn’t answer.

They climb the carved ladder on the side of the ship, hauling themself onto the deck. Sure enough, in the center of the upper level, by the helm, there is a fountain carved of the same crystal, spitting fine streams of what looks like, mana?

Interesting.

They wonder if there’s something like this on Baldur’s ship.

They’ve never seen so, if there is.

The wizard has, admittedly, never piloted a ship of any kind. But how hard could it be? They see sigils carved into the ship in a handful of places, at the helm, across the sides where they had stepped on board—the magic in them is different, but it’s still magic. It still feels like it would respond were they to step into place, pour energy into it.

“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you.” It’s not a question, and the wizard looks back at Duncan with a dead eyed smile as their only response before pulling their hood back over their face.

They do not trust themself to talk seriously right now.

They do not trust their ability to hold onto the pain.

Faking apathy is the best they can do.

“And you would? Know what you’re doing?” They raise an eyebrow he cannot see from under the hood. But their tone likely gets the point across.

“Sometimes the advantage of nobody being willing to put up with you is having to listen to Nolan Stormgate speak for more than thirty seconds.”

That…doesn’t really answer their question.

“Why would that help?”

Duncan just gives them a look. “Seriously? You’re choosing a weird time to play stupid. Just move—take care of making sure nothing hits us.”

The wizard does not move.

“What would talking to Nolan help for?”

“Did you think the name Stormgate was just for show?” He asks, pushing past them to the helm, “Remind me again how you made it this far.” There is less venom in the words than they would have expected, but it is still there. He traces some part of the circle with his boot and it lights up immediately. “I mean it by the way—if we’re headed into debris from Xiabalba you’re gonna need to put something around us, this ship will be lucky not to crash into the nearest mountain before we even make it into the sky.”

Well.

If that was what needed doing.

Part of them is hesitant to let Duncan lead—but it’s either that or waste time trying to figure out the ship on their own. They’d helped with the wards on Baldur’s ship before, so that at least, they could manage.

The worst is on the way.

But there will be time to brace for it.

Read the whole series here <3

[ssentimentals]

f1 pairings as famous love tropes: charles leclerc x carlos sainz

love at first sight (fashion designer!AU)

'birds started singing and heaven fell down upon us the moment my eyes landed on you'

charles is panicking. he is also frustrated, but as of right now panic holds a bigger proportion in the overall share of his feelings. he is late and charles leclerc is never late. all final sketches for his spring-summer collection are ready except one final piece, the grand finale as charles likes to call it. frustration gnaws at his mind because whole collection apart from that final piece was ready and done in the first week - his short vacation in spain inspired him more than he would've thought. he locked himself up in his studio and let beauty come out of the drawings and god, he's never been prouder. every single piece of this collection reminds him of a gentle breeze, warm sea waves, pastel colored flowers on the beach. it's beautiful, it's wonderful and it's incomplete. charles might just kill someone.

loud groan makes everyone look up and he hastily throws last three sketches into the bin, wanting to set the whole thing on fire. clock on the wall almost mocks him, reminds him that he has only five hours left but five hours are not enough for perfection to be created and charles refuses to settle for anything less than perfect.

'go home, everyone.' charles announces, trying to keep anger out of his voice. it's no one's fault but his that collection is unfinished, anyway. 'you can finish your work tomorrow.'

at first no one moves, but when charles pointedly goes back to drawing ignoring everyone, his workers quickly free his studio, flocking one by one until only pierre stays. 'i decided that you could use some inspiration,' he starts, coming closer. 'so i invited several models to stop by.'

charles scoffs, not looking up. 'stupid idea. faces do not inspire me.'

'but those are models! you'll have to make a fitting check on some anways.' pierre tries. 'just be nice, yeah? i'll leave now, but like five of them should come now and oh, i prepared all the docs for the guy from audit, he should also be here shortly.' pierre reaches out and squeezes charles's shoulder lovingly. 'don't stress, calamar. you got this.'

'i don't.' charles cuts out, sighing. 'just go and don't forget to bring me something for dinner.'

pierre scoffs and mutters something about being used but charles is already focused on the drawing. twirling pencil with his fingers, he tries to imagine which look would fit the most for closing the show. his head is usually full of ideas but right now it's empty and only irrelevant memories from vacation spring up, carrying nothing helpful to his case. it's like he used up all of his creativity, which in itself is a very depressing thought; charles thinks it's time to add desperation to his mix of feelings. his eyes move from one sketch to another over and over again, hoping that answer is somewhere there. what is it that he's missing? which piece, which color combination, which-

'um, pardon? i came to-'

'what?!' charles barks out loudly at the interruption. fuck, he was getting somewhere, who dared to interrupt him now? 'what-'

oh. charles blinks at the sight of a tall man in front of him. he blinks again for good measure, just to make sure that his eyes are not playing tricks with him because he had too much caffeine. man in front of him looks like he stepped out of some editorial magazine with his stylishly combed dark hair and big brown eyes. charles is not a stranger to pretty faces; being a fashion designer somehow made him immune to shiny outer appereance of models and celebrities. his breath doesn't get knocked down, his pulse doesn't thrum and his heart doesn't beat faster from an objectively attractive face. it never did, anyway. until right now.

charles takes two steps closer, needing to inspect further. gorgeous tanned skin, plush lips, strong nose, thick neck. there's a bit of stubble on his jawline, which only accentuates how sharp it is. simple blue linen shirt hugs him nicely, stretches over his broad shoulders and only makes his skin tone look even more alluring with the contrast of light color on a tanned body. first two buttons undone are enough to make him look less formal but still not overly casual; peak of collarbones doesn't go unnoticed either. tucked in a fitted pair of straight jeans that make his legs look like they stretch for miles, hugging his thighs just a little to tease the shape - this man looks like -

'god,' charles whispers, awe unhidden in his voice. 'my god.'

perfect dark eyebrow rises up at this. 'i came for-'

'pierre told me,' charles interrupts, stepping even closer. 'you just need to stay here and not move, okay? just don't move.'

charles rushes back, grabs his sketchbook and starts working. 'what's your name?' he asks absentmindedly, chewing on his pencil.

'carlos.' thick accent sips through the cracks.

'perfect,' charles whispers, not looking up. 'absolutely perfect.'

carlos looks like sea. like when you stare at it and in the distance it's almost glowing from the sunlight reflected on it. carlos looks like lazy sunday afternoon, when you have nothing to do and nowhere to be, when your own company is your sole entertainment and that is enough. carlos looks like he is number one. it's in the way he is obviously sun's favorite boy from the way his skin is sunkissed all over; it's in the way god took it's time to make him the way he is to show people that perfection exists. carlos looks soft. his hair, his lips, his eyes - all is soft. god, especially his eyes. charles pauses and looks up, breath hitching at the way carlos is already looking back at him. non artistic people would've called those eyes 'doe eyes' or 'bambi eyes' but thankfully charles is an artist and he knows what those eyes really are. they are love. they are expressive even when their owner stays silent, they are talking and the stories they tell send a thrill down charles's spine. he feels it all - the breath knocked out, pulse thrumming, heart beating twice as fast thing. he stares like a masochist because it's painful to stare, charles doesn't think he should have a right to do so for free, but looking away feels criminal. carlos stares back, anyway. he doesn't say anything and he doesn't have to, his eyes talk for him. they are curious, swimming with possibilities and questions - charles wants to answer them all, wants to grab him by the hand and tell him that everything is possible, he will make it become possible for him.

'where are you from?' charles breaks the silence, looking down at his sketch and continuing his work.

'spain. madrid, specifically.'

god, of course this embodiement of a sun is from spain, from a region where sun shines with all the love and gentleness on its' people. it's so fitting, too. charles can easily picture carlos there, can see how he'll fight right in with all the incredible architecture and colorful nature and- that's it. that's the key. his final piece. charles works without breathing, overtaken by his vision - a modern piece, the kind which looks good for a stroll on the bustling madrid street and fits a nice time in nature. a perfect balance, one that attracts attention not because it's loud but because it's so confident. like carlos. huh, so much for 'faces do not inspire me'.

'from which agency you are?' charles asks, moving to another sketch. he needs to check angles but now that he's got an idea, everything else will come to him easier. 'you can start stripping now, i'll do the color check. i think terracota will look amazing on you, let me check if we have any samples left.'

he stands up to go check fabrics but stops, when carlos just stares back at him, unmoving. he opens his mouth to ask what's wrong, when someone knocks and several guys enter one by one. 'hello,' one of them starts. 'we are here for fit check. pierre sent us.'

charles frowns. charles is also not stupid so he connects dots quickly enough to realize that carlos is- 'you are the audit guy,' he breathes out and carlos offers a small smile in response. 'holy shit.'

'i'm flattered you thought that i am one of those guys,' carlos tilts his head to the side of newcomers. 'they are models, no?' charles nods and he chuckles, shaking his head. 'nice. thanks, i guess.'

'i'm so sorry,' charles mutters, feeling heat rising to his cheeks. god, blush doesn't suit him, can he not blush right now?

'you caught me off guard there with your stripping part,' carlos comments and his voice is so smooth and melodic, charles never wants him to stop talking. 'i was going to say that you could've at least asked me out to dinner first.'

charles stares at carlos with eyebrows pushed up his hairline. what is happening right now? throat clearance from waiting guys brings him out of his thoughts though and he quickly asks them to wait outside for few minutes, needing to stay alone with carlos. he finds docs that pierre left for him and comes closer, holding them tightly. this close scent of carlos's cologne makes his head spin a little: it's a wave of ocean at first but with a twist of something sweeter, darker, which pulls you in. charles feels like he's about to drown.

'those are for me?' carlos asks, pointing at the docs. 'from pierre, right?'

charles nods and doesn't make a move to hand them to carlos. carlos is also not taking them and they are stuck at this staring contest, which is ridiculous but how can charles let him go? his muse, his final piece? 'you are it,' he lets out, holding eye contact with carlos, which is not an easy thing when having carlos's eyes on him feels electric. 'my- i needed my final piece. i have it now, i know how it'll look. i drew it just now, you are-'

'can i see?' carlos interrupts.

charles doesn't show his unfinished sketches to anyone. he also doesn't fall head over heels for guys from audit but this day is full of firsts, apparently. carlos stands by his side when charles hands him his sketchbook and the way his eyes trace every single detail of the lines make charles feel giddy. he waits impatiently, practically buzzing with energy by the time carlos returns him the sketchbook.

'it's beautiful,' he says and his tone is different. it's softer than before, filled with honey, honesty and promise. 'very, very pretty.'

charles almost says something idiotic like not as pretty as you but thankfully he still has head to mouth filter. he bites his lower lip and feels a surge of power in the way carlos immediately looks down, the way those eyes instantly zero on this action. his eyes are always talking even when he doesn't; his eyes are love and right now charles's own hunger is reflected in them. kiss me charles want to whisper. you can take me right now and i will succumb to you the way artists succumb to their muses, wholeheartedly and inevitably.

'what's your name?' carlos asks and if there's a slight drop in his voice, none of them mention it.

'charles.' his own name feels foreign on his tongue. 'leclerc.'

carlos hums, tracing lovingly charles's face with his eyes. 'leave those docs here, charles. i need an excuse to come here again.'

there's no way that carlos doesn't hear loud beating of his heart. heat blooms in the short space between them and charles wants. god, how much he wants. he nods, not trusting his voice not to crack if he speaks.

'i will come tomorrow,' carlos says and there it is, the promise that charles heard so clearly in his tone. 'when you will not have five handsome models waiting to strip for you. when will that be?'

'come today,' charles lets out, not caring if he's acting desperate. 'after eight.'

carlos doesn't seem to think that he's desperate. fire in his eyes ignites and oh, he wants, too. he looks at charles like he wants to forget that he's on work and that there are people waiting for him outside of the door; he looks at charles like charles wants him to look at him. oh, this is wonderful.

'after eight.' carlos agrees and it's a promise again. sweet like honey.

charles stays under some spell for few minutes after carlos is gone and it takes a loud 'shall we start?' from a model to kickstart his brain again. he quickly fishes out his phone and sends pierre text message: 'audit guy dropped by. final piece is ready. do not come to bring me dinner, do not come at all' and takes a deep breath. time to work.

a/n: my love ode for carlos and his eyes is done, please take it and hold it with care :') come to my inbox with suggestions of which other pairings i should write for! - nini

my other formula 1 writings are here

my seventeen writings are here

[marymary-diva17]

The dream walker of the sea (2)

The reunion with friends had made everyone happy, as they had been apart from each other for very long. The fear and worry of not seeing each other, was over but there had been some stuff that returned as well. The war was far from over as now a new fight had began and there is no giving up.

y/n " ......" you are standing on the beach holding your son in your arms.

neyio " fishes mama fishes'

y/n " yes baby look at all the fishes in the water swimming around"

neyio " IIu mama"

y/n " yes that an IIu maybe if we are lucky we can go on ride later on" neyio soon started laughing and clapping his hands making you, chuckle you had kissed his right check.

y/n " aww you are so adorable"

????? " y/n" you soon heard your name getting called as you soon turned around to see, jake and norm standing there as they made their way towards you. They had soon stopped when they soon reached you.

Jake " oh you have the kiddo with you again hey there kid"

neyio " ......" neyio stayed silent but he soon waved towards the two grown man.

norm " he very sweet"

y/n " yes he is"

Jake " so he inherited your DNA"

y/n " yes like with your kids there are high chances that the kids, will show our DNA in them then the other kids"

norm " still on your game I see"

y/n " always my friend I make sure my kids know this stuff as well, along with fighting as well since the return of enemies from the past dead people who are alive once again"

Jake " yeah I thought they will be gone forever but nope the rda brought them back alive, with using those stupid memory logs"

y/n " the rda love to play great creator but that never works in the end"

norm " maybe you can come with us to see the base we have here, but I don't think it will be safe for the little one to come"

y/n " you are right I would leave him to my mates but they are no where near by ...."

tsireya " hey mama" tsireya had soon come walking and she was soon joined by her sibling, sully kids, and spider.

y/n " hello children"

Jake ' hey kids what are you all going'

neteyam " hangout in the water aonung and his siblings offer to take us for a lesson"

y/n " that nice of you kids but can you all do me favor

aonung " yes mama'

y/n " can you all keep an eye on neyio I need to have a meeting with Jake and norm, at the humans homes it will not be good to take him"

aonung " yes we can take him mama come here little brother" aonung soon took his baby brother who had become happy, to spend time with the bigger kids.

neteyam " we will all make sure no harm comes to him y/n"

y/n " thank you all" you had soon walked away with Jake and norm heading toward, where the humans are staying since their arrival yesterday.

max " y/n"

y/n " hey max"

max " I'm so happy to see you again we thought we lost your for good, after all those years"

y/n " yes I thought I will not be able to see you all again, I want to go back but it havent become safe since their return"

Scientist " well we are happy you are back here with us and we heard, you have mates and kids as well"

y/n " yes I do I had become mates with tonowari the olo'eythan here and the tshaik ronal we have four beautiful children"

Scientist 2 " that wonderful norm told us one of the kids had inherited DNA from you"

y/n " yes he did I will show you all my kids later on if they come by for a visit"

norm " oh they will come by knowing our kids they will be here later on" laughter had been heard as it seem to be something agreed upon by everyone.

Jake " so the metkayain already know the rda"

y/n " yes it seems like the rda was doing their own thing here, but when they left it felt like peace had come until now"

Jake " yes but will they be willing to help us fight against the rda'

y/n " yes they will be willing to help fight against the rda as they are, destroy our homes and hunting the creates we love here in the name of greed"

norm " greedy is always the root of all this chaos"

y/n " the rda will not stop until they clam this place as their new home, and get rid of anyone that stops them from doing that"

max " yes but they will be greedy once again"

y/n " that is very true but we will never give up the fight no matter what happens"

Scientist 3 " it good to have you back y/n we missed you girl"

y/n " I missed you all as well"

????? " this is where the humans will be living"

????? ' oh they have some of the same techniques and weapon mama has, at home but some of them seem different"

????? " shinny"

????" no touching neyio"

???? " there might be something around here we can hold and touch, that will not be harmful"

lo'ak " oh hello" the adults soon saw the children arrive in eye shot of them, all of the kids looking at them.

Neyio " mama mama" you smile as you went to get neyio from rotox arms who was now holding him.

rotxo " he has been well behaved mama no fits about anything, he even did well when swimming"

lo'ak " he even showed all of us up as well when swimming on his won and ridding an IIu"

y/n " oh did you that is so good"

max " hello kids"

tsireya " hello are you all friend of our mama"

y/n " yes they are and I did work with them as well"

aonung " wow"

neteyam " it fine we brought them here we wanted to show them, more of the humans as they know some from y/n"

max " it okay did just staye safe all of you and be careful, when handle any of the weapons or tools"

kids " yes sir"

aonung " can we looks around more mama"

y/n " yes but remember max words my kids" the older kids had taken off leaving you with neyio, as he was pointing at everything he could see. Wishing for anyone to explain what had caught his attention, he easily had won everyone over.

Later on that day

max " so they call you the dream walker of the sea"

y/n " yes they do they knew about the dreamwalker but haven't seen one until me, I made a good impression on them"

norm " yes it those if you had become ronal and tonowari mate, after all this time"

y/n " I have a good life with them and type of life I fear I wouldn't have with them" Neyio is doing his best to walk around but having times, when he will fall over.

Jake " you will get it buddy"

y/n " when he does learn to walk there will be not stopping him"

max " you are a good mom y/n he will be amazing and adventurous like his mom"

neyio " baba baba" someone had came walking over to the human base, that navi was no other then tonowari. he saw his son and smiled soon picking the boy up.

tonowari " hello my son now where is your mother and siblings, as no one was home when I arrived"

neyio " mama"

y/n " I'm here hello my husband welcome home"

tonowari " my wife so it seems like your human friends have settled in well"

y/n " yes and thank you once again for letting them come"

tonowari " they seeked help and we said yes"

y/n " this is max one of my many friends and the rest are my friends as well, when I was living in the forest"

tonowari " hello"

max " hello"

tonowari " I hope you and your friends can do good work here, and maybe erase all the trouble the rda has caused"

max " we will do our best olo'eythan"

tonowari " I will be look forward to it"

y/n " where is ronal"

tonowari " she will be home tomorrow as her and mo'at are speaking with another tshaik, near some spiritual grounds"

y/n " I understand"

tsireya " baba welcome home"

aonung " baba we saw so many amazing things today"

tonowari " that amazing my children"

rotxo " we got to understand more of the humans stuff as well"

tonowari " it good you are learning about your mother world, as it your world as well"

y/n " you are right my husband" it seems like everyone had rest assured when they were with tonowari seeing as friendly, but they were all wondering what ronal will be like in person verse words.

[straighttohellbuddy]

so stay here, darling {Quackity}

Summary: Growing up, like many children your age, you had an imaginary friend. You met him in your dreams, you play together, and he grows up with you. Unlike many children your age, your imaginary friend never goes away. In which the boy you dream up somehow thinks he dreamed you up.

Need to Know: No pronouns used for reader. Dreamwalker AU. Reader & Q are the same age.

A/N: 3040 words. LOOK OUT HIGH CONCEPT BULLSHIT. saw a movie from 2001 about existentialism and dreams where the main guy reminded me of q, and so the writing demon decided i should write this. id love to know what you guys think of it because i wrote it in a fugue state and remember uh NONE OF IT byeeeee seriously is it good its 3am

Citrus Scale: 🧡 ORANGE 🧡

You don't remember when you started dreaming about the boy with the dark hair and dark eyes.

"Well does he have a name?" Whenever you tell anyone about him, this is always their first question, and every time you have to scrunch up your face and shake your head.

In the last dream you'd had, the two of you were on the beach that might have been from a memory, and he was more distinct than the hazy shape of whoever had brought you there. The two of you had been building a sandcastle taller than both of you, taller than any adult you knew; he was talking so much, and you liked hearing him talk. It didn't matter what his name was, you and the boy who kept showing up in your dreams had more fun things to do than worry about names.

Sometimes you catch yourself realising that you're dreaming while they're in progress; usually it's because you can't read the books you find, but sometimes it just clicks. You're dreaming. This isn't real.

"Hey, if this is dream, can I fly?" You ask him, and he looks back at you with surprise. Now that you've noticed, it's hard to ignore; the world is almost familiar, but more of a blur of colour than it ever is in life, like looking out of the window on a road trip. Squinting over his shoulder, you make the haze of colour take shape into a park with a jungle gym.

"This is a dream?" He's blurry at the edges, but still more in focus than anything else in the world. Slowly, he begins to drift, his feet lifting off the ground, and his expression turns panicked. Snatching his hand before he starts to flail, you concentrate as hard as you can to ground him; you hadn't meant to do that to him, even if he is just an imaginary friend.

It doesn't work; he holds your hand so tight you can feel it when you wake up. It had been so real...

You want to apologise, but you don't properly remember the incident the next time you see him. You also don't realise that it's a dream, you're just excited to see your friend and hear him talk about that time he almost flew away. What a story! He insists he can teach you, and in this dream, you're not aware that it's a dream, but it feels perfectly normal to hold his hand as you both wobble your way through the early stages of flight.

---

"You look sad."

"I think I'm meant to grow out of seeing you."

Silence.

"Now?"

"Maybe. Probably one day."

"I think I'm meant to too."

"I don't want you to."

"Me neither."

He takes your hand.

---

It's not a recurring dream as much as he's simply an occasionally recurring character in your dreams. However the occasional dreams don't stop, even though it's been years. Having an imaginary friend is less cute the older you get, so you stop telling people about him so much.

But more and more you find yourself looking forward to those dream, to seeing your friend -

"You should have a name," he tells you a few weeks out from your eleventh birthday. The two of you are traversing through crystal-filled caverns, pitch black if not for the faint glow that emanates from the two of you, naturally, since you'd drunk a potion of fireflies, and this was a dream.

"What do you mean I should have a name?" You laughed, "I have a name, you should know it," still not fully aware that this was a dream, part of you believes he knows it. He's part of you, you will understand when you wake up, of course he should know it, "if anyone should have a name it's you-"

When you finally dream of him again, he's eager to pick up where the two of you left off, needling you for your name, and though you're confused, you realise that your name turns cottony and mushy and forgettable in your mind and on your tongue. He tells you that that's foolish.

You wished the boys in your class smiled like him, or laughed like he did. His stories were more interesting, more engaging, and you're fascinated with how your mind has chosen to weave information you'd somehow caught, overheard, delivered back through him.

Of course you could only dream up the perfect boy.

---

Sometimes he's the one to let you know it's a dream.

You swear he's changed, gotten a bit taller, it's like he's grown up, you swear he used to look like a kid. Then again, so did you; you didn't realise dreams could grow up with you.

"Dreaming again," on top of an anime-looking school building, sitting on the edge with your legs dangling off the edge, he's looking at his watch.

"Dreaming again?" You ask, right as you realise the horizon is just an impressionist landscape painting of pastels. Showing you his watch, you see the way the digits move like liquid, unable to be read.

"Can't read digital clocks in a dream," he tells you matter-of-factly, "or fine print."

The print part of that you knew, but not the clocks... Surely you must have heard it somewhere, internalised it, and your dream was deciding to throw it at you. Surely.

---

When you're fourteen you dream of the airport lounge, and of him. This is one of those dreams that you fully believe, that you're unaware that it's a dream. Your plane is delayed and the two of you are sitting in beanbag chairs with clean, cool light streaming in through the large, glass windows several yards away. Somehow you both fit in the one beanbag chair, he's got his arm around you and is telling your about some videogame he's been playing with his brother.

This you already were aware of; somehow you were very good at keeping this figment's lore in order in your mind, even if the dream contexts always change.

"Toon Town?" You hear yourself ask, angling your face to look at him properly; his hand stills where he'd been tracing patterns on your arm. There's a look in his eyes that you'd seen in movies and TV shows and on some of your friend's faces now that they were starting to date. Oh, right, in this dream he's your gamer boyfriend, obviously.

"Like of course you remembered," he sounded a little flustered, a little giddy, "but I still love that you remember that kind of thing." It feels natural to lean in to kiss him, it all feels so real, so warm, his arm still around -

Your alarm goes off.

---

The Boy you dream of is fascinating and detailed and more alive than any character you've ever tried to come up with on purpose. Growing up with you, the lore your subconsciousness has given him has grown too, expanded to a family, friends you never see but know by name, and strangest of all, a fledgling attempt at being a YouTuber, not to mention a hundred amazing stories he insists he's taken part in.

He's not random like the rest of the dream; a million different universes and concepts get explored in your dreams, but who he is as a person never changes. He is who he is in space, under water, at the beach, in class, while flying, while fighting dragons and dinosaurs, while on a date at the Mad Hatter's Tea Party.

On the nights you dream of him, you resent your interrupting alarm.

You're assured that strange dreams are part of being a teenager, but you know you can never admit that your hormone-addled teenage brain has gotten further with your imaginary friend than anyone in real life. Teen magazines and health class say that's perfectly normal, but you're pretty sure they're talking about one-off dreams, not about recurring scenarios involving your imaginary friend from childhood whose now very much a teenager too in your mind.

No, that you'd be taking to your grave.

---

"Stop being watercolours for a second," you mumble with a soft smile, taking his face in your hands. He was still shifting and blurring at the edges in this dream, still looking like a painting. The watercolours shift to become rich, textured oil paints; you can't help but laugh. His smile lights up his face, and the paint shifts so he looks the closest to what you'd imagine him to look like as a real person.

"What are you doing?" He chuckled, pulling you into his lap. The world around you is a dark, rich blue. You're on The Simpson's couch at night, the TV playing behind you.

"Trying to memorise you," you tell him, running your thumbs along his cheeks, mapping his face with your fingers, gentle down the bridge of his nose, across his brow, along his cupid's bow, "I feel like I can never draw you like I see you here."

"You draw me?" There's something indescribably fond in his voice.

"In the margins of my notes," you admit, "in class... I wish..." you were real, but you trail off. His expression is warm and soft; you're holding his face again.

"Can't use watercolours in your class notes?" He teases, "I totally bet you could." It takes your mind off of your yearning, however, and you regard him with amusement.

"What am I?"

"What?"

"Right now, I'm not trying to be anything; am I watercolours?"

"A really hot Etch-A-Sketch," to which you both break down in laughter.

---

"What's it like being a character in someone's dream?"

"Why are you asking me that?

----

How strange it is to hear him talk about wanting to be a lawyer. You can't remember having a strong urge to become a lawyer; you wonder what part of your subconscious this was pulled from. Still, you encourage him, tell him you're excited for him.

There's something in the shaky breath he lets out when you hug him that surprises you. Why would he be worried about your reaction? The dreams you share are ones where you're in love more often than not now, he knows you love him, you support him, right?

"I love you, you'll be great!" You tell him earnestly, but as he pulls back his expression is drawn.

"I'm too old for this; it's not real."

The tears that burn your eyes feel all too real too.

"Isn't that part of it, that it's okay, that it's escapism, because it's not real?" You tried reasoning with this part of your mind that's grown cool to you without warning. Is this what you truly fear deep down, is this what you're too afraid to acknowledge consciously in any other way?

"There's something wrong with me! Being in love with a part of me that isn't even real," he says through clenched teeth, voicing every fear you dare not speak, even to yourself, "I feel... wrong thinking that my real experiences don't live up to my fucking dreams!" It looks like it hurts him to say, but god it hurts to hear. You crumple, crying softly as this quickly became a nightmare, "this isn't real! This isn't fucking real!" Like he was trying to convince himself. The alarm couldn't come soon enough.

---

It starts in the middle of domestic bliss, his head in your lap without any set up. For a long moment he gazes up at you as you stroke his hair, before your last interaction came crashing down on you both.

He closed his eyes, you looked away, to the endless blue sea stretching out around you. But he doesn't get up, and you don't stop running your fingers through his hair.

"You'll find someone who isn't me," you tell him softly, assuringly, "someone as good as, someone better."

"Someone real."

I know, you silently resign to yourself, I need to find someone real.

---

"Fuck I wish this was real."

"I thought we agreed that it's better that it's not."

"But you look so good."

"I was stressing about this outfit... so thanks."

"Can you wear it more often?"

"That sounds like a slippery slope for us both."

"It is."

But you're both grinning as he pulls you in for a kiss. For tonight, you decide it doesn't matter.

---

One of your friends seems really eager to invite you to VidCon, and you suppose you liked YouTubers well enough to go. Some little voice in the back of your mind reminds you that you invented your favourite YouTuber back when you were a kid. Something like wishful thinking, you've always told yourself -

You'd dreamt about a plane the other night, he'd said the seats in the dream were far more comfortable than the actual plane seats. Said he was on his way to VidCon himself, maybe that's why you're so quick to say yes to your friend's offer. It had been a sign; part of you wanted you to be there, the part that spoke through him.

When you dream of him next it's the night before the convention, and you're aware that it's a dream. He says he's stressed as the two of you float over the convention centre; his outfit keeps changing and shifting, and you know you're stressing over what to wear tomorrow in your own way. When you tell him that it's going to be okay, that you'll be there, he gives a strange little smile, as if to say obviously.

You both think you know what the other means.

You are both wrong.

---

It's loud and overwhelming and you realise you may have made a mistake when you're half an hour into a line for a guy you've never heard of. The YouTuber you dream about isn't fucking real, you shouldn't be here -

"I thought you'd be more excited to meet Q," your friend seems confused at your quickly souring mood as the line progresses at a snail's pace, "I only got us in this cue for you to meet him."

"Who?"

"Q?" Your friend frowns, "Quackity; the guy you've been obsessed with for as long as I've known you," she half laughed, "you've been drawing him all over your shit since high school."

There's a nausea building slowly in your gut as you hear her speak.

"I don't... I don't know who you're talking about."

"Are you being serious right now?" She frowned, "like you draw his beanies and caps and hoodies and everything, I only found out about him like a year ago but I recognised him from your math notes... You really don't know him?"

Perhaps this is why your imaginary friend pushed you to come here. This was the reason, even if you weren't consciously aware of it.

Except your friend in the line beside you opens up Instagram and shows you a photo that makes your blood turn to ice. The resemblance went beyond uncanny. You think you might be sick.

How? Why? Had you met him as a child and just kept dreaming of him? What the hell was happening? The line was moving and you let it carry you forward.

Your imaginary friend. You imaginary boyfriend. The boy you've dreamt of your entire life. Your first... everything, and absolutely nothing at the same time. YouTuber. Aspiring Lawyer. The person you felt hopeless for falling in love with.

You feel faint. Your friend looks worried, she keeps asking if you're okay. Telling her you are, you try and tell yourself it's just the scariest coincidence in the world. Still, you have to meet him.

When you get to the front of the line, you watch him chatter and laugh with the excited teenagers at his table, and oh god, you know his voice, his smile, his laugh -

"Seriously, are you okay?" Your friend in your ear.

"I'm good," you tell her, swallowing hard as you raised your voice enough to make sure he'd hear, while still acting as though you were talking to her, "I said I'd be here."

Turning to him, you see he's half standing, eyes wide, dark as you've always known them to be. He looks incredulous. He looks like he's going through the same kind of overwhelming realisation you'd gone through five minutes ago.

"You're Quackity," you say with a fond smile.

He takes a startled breath, coming back to the moment, beginning to beam.

"This is going to sound batshit insane," he began hesitantly, though your smile is already widening in anticipation, "but has anyone ever told you that you'd make, like, a really hot Etch-A-Sketch?"

Ignoring your friends utter bewilderment, you burst out laughing, relief flooding through you as you nodded emphatically twice.

"Twice, actually," you snorted.

"Was it twice?" He tipped his head to the side, and you gave a wide smile.

"Second time was in that really bright toy shop, the one with the -"

"Giant Buzz Lightyears?" He filled in sagely, suddenly remembering, and you both quickly shuddered, recalling the nightmare.

"What the fuck is happening right now?" Your friend asked, deeply confused by the whole interaction, "I thought you didn't know him."

"It's... unbelievably complicated," you told her with an air of apology, which only left her seeming miffed. As you turned your attention away for the moment, however, Quackity was ushering over one of the convention volunteers who had been hovering around, witnessing the bizarre event.

For a moment, out of the corner of your eye, you catch him checking his watch; your smile widens at the action, the way he's making sure it's real like you'd seen him do countless times in dreams. This time is different. This time is better.

"I'm sorry," you finally hear him say, addressing you with a breathless kind of laugh, "I never caught your name."

You'd always assumed he'd known it. You'd assumed he wasn't real. You assumed you'd made up his smile, his laughter, his warmth, his joy.

You could stop wishing for someone real to love the way you loved him.

"Y/N," you tell him, and are met with the smile you'd dreamt about for as long as you can remember, "my name's Y/N."

[lomlhwa]

song of the sea (k.ys)

pairing: siren!yeosang x human!reader

preview: washing up on a remote island with no memories is scary enough. but when a siren song fills your ears in the dead of night, your skin crawls. with fear? or with excitement?

tags/warnings: fem reader, kinda cnc, auralism, lots of kissing, big dick!yeosang, his dick has... scales, degradation, like one pet name (doll), enough blood loss to be weakened, unprotected penetration cause yanno, desert island (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, uhhh he does fully eat and kill you at the end soooo...

trigger warnings: idk if being hypnotized by a siren song is cnc so uhhh, there's a cnc warning just in case. oh and you die at the end

wc: 2.2k

song recs for this fic: honestly? none

a/n: for context, this siren shit works like mako mermaids or h2o just add water. bro has a tail when in water, but on land has all the human limbs. but even on land, he has his lil siren powers. okay? okay. (don't have sex on the beach, it's uncomfortable and gross)

here's a link to what siren songs supposedly sound like!

you’re woken up by the cawing of seagulls flying around you. you immediately begin hacking up salty, bitter sea water. your hair is basically fused to the sand you’d been laying in. you have no idea where you are or how long you’ve been here. 

you get up off the ground, wiping the sand off your clothes to the best of your ability. you finally take in your surroundings. all you can see for miles ahead of you is deep, blue, open water. there’s a deep forest behind you; a mix of palm and pine trees. 

you make a few futile attempts to call for help. obviously, no one hears you. you’re here on this desert island all alone. your stomach grumbles and you wonder once again, just how long you’d been here. 

you wander over to a palm tree to find some coconuts. you find a shorter tree and shake it, letting two hefty coconuts fall into the sand. you honestly have no idea how to tell if a coconut is ripe enough to eat. you find a large rock to place the coconut on and find a slightly smaller one to smash it with.

after a couple hard hits, it bursts open. you rush to drink some of its nutty, sweet milk before it spills everywhere. you feel instantly relieved at the final liquid sustenance. you dig your fingers into its firm meat, raising it to your mouth. your stomach is almost instantly satiated by consuming it. 

you collapse back onto the sand softly, racking your brain for some way of getting out of here. no planes come by, no boats sail past, no one is ever going to find your deserted self. you figure you should do your best to try and find or make some shelter. 

you find a collection of large logs and set them up between a couple trees. you pack them in together, filled spaces with mud and leaves. the roof you managed to create is a mix of palm leaves and more mud. you can only hope that this will hold up for however long you’re here.

as the day fades away, you rest on the sand near the water. you watch as the sun sets into the water, turning the sky beautiful shades of yellow, orange and red. you watch as the sea goes from clear blue, to a deep dark blue, hiding whatever lies inside it. 

once the stars begin appearing, you lay back in the soft sand. you connect the constellations above you, admiring how bright they are tonight. the soft crashing of the waves and the calming activity of counting stars makes you feel drowsy. before you know it, you’re falling asleep on the sand, completely forgetting about your nicely made shelter from just a few hours before. 

you’re awoken by the feeling of pouring rain pelting your face. you quickly get up and rush to your make-shift house, relieved that it’s still standing. as soon as you settle, you feel like something’s missing. you look around, despite knowing you have none of your belongings.

but then, you look down. your shirt is missing. how on earth did you manage to lose your shirt? you peek out of your little window and find that it had been thrown just a few meters away from where you were sleeping. you dash out to grab your now soaked shirt and dash back into dry safety.

despite your shirt being sopping wet, you put it back on. you need to make use of your clothes while they’re still in good shape. you peek out of your window once again. you catch a glimpse of what seems to be something with a tail. 

it only appears once and only for a few seconds. but you swear on your life, it looks human. a mermaid, maybe? if it wasn’t raining so hard you’d go out and see what it is, maybe even strip down and swim around to find it. but right now, you just need to avoid getting hypothermia. 

the rain doesn’t let up until night has fallen again. you finally come out of hiding to see if the stars are lighting up the sky again. unfortunately, they’re hiding behind the clouds tonight. your stomach growls loudly, disturbing the quiet of the night. the clouds covering the stars makes it impossible to see if there are any more coconuts nearby. 

you walk around blindly for a moment, your arms outstretched in front of you. when your hands finally meet a tree, you shake it. you just shake and hope that there’s a coconut or two in it. luckily for you, there’s 3 coconuts in this tree. unluckily for you, one falls on your head and knocks you out. 

you come to what you assume is about midday. your head is pounding and you’re sure you probably have a goose egg on the top of your head. you get up and are blinded by the sun reflecting off the blue sea water. 

you gather the coconuts that you shook off the tree last night and take them back to your hut. when you enter your hut, you find that there are 4 coconuts inside. you know you didn’t put them there. so who else is on this island with you and providing coconuts?

your mind wanders back to the creature you’d seen the previous day. had it really been human after all? it sounds so silly that a human would be living in the water though. mermaids can’t walk so there’s no way that’s what it was. 

you shrug it off. as much as you should probably be concerned, you really don’t mind. more sustenance for you. you need to find a way to get off this island soon though. you could have a heart attack from too much coconut water.

you gather large rocks and sticks to create a make-shift ‘sos’ sign. you can only hope that it’ll be big enough for planes and helicopters that may fly past. with that out of the way, you crack open one of your many coconuts and feast on it.

when night falls again, you decide to sleep under the stars. you find the waves crashing to be extra calming when you’re closer to them. so, you get comfy in a pile of sand and admire the night sky.

the calming sound of the waves is interrupted by extra loud water crashing. you sit up, a little stunned. you rise just in time to, what you assume, is the same tail you’d seen previously. you see it flip and and out of the water under the moonlight.

you open your mouth to call out to whatever it is, but something interrupts you. the sound of an almost operatic song fills your ears. it’s alluring and mysterious to hear it coming from the dark water. 

before you have a chance to think, you begin losing control of your own body. you feel stuck to the ground as the tail in the water draws closer. it finally peeks it’s human head out of the water to peek at you. once you see it, your mind finally registers what you’re facing.

a siren.

the reason you hadn’t considered it before is because you assumed all sirens were female. that’s what mythology says. that’s what everyone says. but everyone was wrong. you’re face to face with a male siren right now. 

he’s singing his dangerous song to keep you where he wants you. he slithers out of the water and onto the sand. much to your surprise, he magically forms a pair of legs. he saunters towards you, his siren song not faltering once. 

before you know it, he’s right in front of you. he’s gorgeous. his sharp eyes pierce into your soul, keeping you entranced. you can see that he has dangerously sharp teeth, knowing they’re supposed to be for ripping humans apart. 

he runs his gray fingers down the side of your face, sharp nails grazing your cheek. despite his mouth finally being closed, the song continues to keep you pinned in place. he smiles a sinister smile at you.

“i’ve been watching you since you got here,” he says. you know he has. you’ve pieced everything from the last few days together and it all leads back to him. you nod, finding that he’s restricted your ability to speak.

“i’m gonna have fun with you, doll,” he snickers. “you washed up on the wrong island.” fear finally takes over your body. you know it’s futile to try and fight a siren song but you try anyway. you writhe and wiggle to try and free yourself from your invisible constraints. 

“no point in fighting it, you’re under my spell,” his words become distorted as he slightly changes his song. you find your body moving on its own accord; well, his accord. your hands move to remove your clothes; pulling your shirt over your head and pants down your legs. you reach back and unclasp your bra, letting it slide off. he stops you just before you move to take off your underwear. he wants to do that part himself. 

now that you’re topless and mostly bottomless, goosebumps rise on your exposed skin. the cool breeze from the night sea makes you shiver. the siren ghosts his cold fingers down your ribs and over your hip bones. your legs bend and you’re laid down on the sand once again. 

he finally connects his salty lips to your soft ones, feverishly kissing you. his sharp fang-like teeth graze your bottom lip once, splitting it open. he wildly suckles on your now open gash on your lip. you know he has a primal urge for human blood and human meat. you know your life is in danger and you can do nothing to stop it. 

he pulls away from you, his own lips bloody now. despite being a siren, his human form has a pair of black boxers on, probably for decency when encountering someone on land. he sheds those from his body. you manage to look down for a split second, catching a glimpse of what seems to be scales on his length. 

he finally takes your panties off your cold, sandy body. he graces your clit with the rough pad of his finger, but only to get your hole weeping for him. it was a fleeting sense of pleasure. it had your back arching sporadically. 

he lines up his leaking, pink cock with your entrance. you shudder, wondering what his raised scales are going to feel like inside you. he changes his song again, so slightly that you almost didn’t notice. you only notice because your body starts moving on its own; your hips lifting up, welcoming his length.

he shoves into you quickly, sheathing himself to hilt instantly. the scales scrape your walls deliciously. the edges of them lift and catch on your insides, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. 

he thrusts into you at a quick pace, his song making you more sensitive than you ever thought you could be. even just a few thrusts have you shaking and sputtering under him. he grips your waist with his bony fingers tightly.

his nails pierce your skin and you’re reminded that you are in inevitable danger because of the man currently inside you. blood spills out of you as your high creeps up on you. your mind goes hazy at the blood loss. you hit your high out of nowhere, your walls clamping down on him.

your walls closing in on him sent him over the edge; the tightness milking him of his seed. he momentarily stills, almost letting the song slip. his mouth hangs open, no sound escaping. he pulls out of you, admiring the way his seed spills out of you. 

you almost hope that he’ll just slither away, back into the ocean. but, he doesn’t. he pulls his black boxers back on. he bares his sharp teeth at you. you want to crawl away and hide. anything to get away from him.

his demeanor changes instantly. from lust to hunger. he bites into your arm, just below the shoulder. he bites a chunk out of your skin, down to the bone. you watch as he eats your skin and muscle in front of you. your body hasn’t registered the pain yet.

when your body finally registers the pain, it’s once he’s ripped your arm completely off your body. you cry out, screaming into the night. he repeats the same actions with your other arm. your throat is becoming raw from screaming in pain. 

he sits next to you, eating your arms like chicken wings. he’s consuming you and simultaneously getting off on your fear. once your arms are nothing but cartilage and bone, he discards them. he chooses to go for your jugular next; more blood, less meat. your death in his hands. 

he tongues at your throat before baring his teeth again. he sinks his teeth into your neck slowly, savoring your pain. your cry out a final time before he completely pierces your throat. he rips out your trachea, waving his head around like a dog with a bone. 

the red hot searing pain takes over your entire body, making you dizzy. it burns through you, your nerves on fire. you feel as the blood pours out of you, staining the sand and your hair. tears fall from your eyes, but without your throat, you can’t really cry.

you watch as he devours what was once your airway. you’re disgusted by the sight but you can’t do anything about it. 

finally, you lose consciousness. permanently. 

© lomlhwa 2023

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Somewhere Between Hello and Goodbye | Ch. 2: It Was All a Dream, I Promise

a/n: Writing that has been italicized + highlighted blue represents past memories or dreams, while writing that is italicized + bolded is a letter.

Months have passed since I last saw Jungkook. From the day he was discharged till now, no one has heard from him or his family. No texts, no calls. Nothing. Even his academic advisor raised concern regarding his absence, and still, there was radio silence on the other side of the line. It’s as if he never existed in the first place. He left with the cold winter and never came back to see the blooming of the spring cherry blossoms. 

Naturally, the last three months have been nothing short of torture. Day after day, night after night, I prayed to God, prayed that he would bring Koo back to me. Every morning, I would call his number just to hear his voicemail greeting, the one we crafted together during our late-night run to 7/11. 

“Hello, you've reached Jungkook’s voicemail. Please don't leave a message unless you're Mira,” Jungkook says confidently, scrunching his nose at the way my eyes widened from disbelief. 

“Koo!? You have to take this seriously. What if an employer calls you?” I exclaim, gaze softened at the sight of his bunny teeth on full display. 

“I'm sure they'll be able to tell if they're you or not,” he grins, taking a sip of his strawberry milk before pulling my chair closer to him, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. 

My eyes swell with tears reminiscing our memories. It pains me to think of the possibility that he might not even remember me. I'm not sure how long, if at all, I'd be able to last in a universe where Jungkook sees me as a stranger again. After all we've been through, man, that would hurt immensely. Nonetheless, I hold on to the hope that he is not alone. Surrounded by his loved ones, I hope Koo is resting in peace, at ease. This wish, however, has yet to overcome the aching feeling in my chest, my desire to hold him in my embrace. To be close to him once again. To tell him how much I love him. 

“Mira? Miraya, honey, can you hear me?” my mom shouts through the phone. After all this time, she has yet to learn how to properly use Facetime. 

“Mommy, I'm looking at your ear. You have to turn the camera towards you, remember?” I giggle, eyes tearing up from the mere sound of her voice. I've missed her. I've missed my family. I wasn't able to go back home for Thanksgiving or Christmas, so it's been ages since I last saw them. Nonetheless, after trial and error, mostly error, I could finally see my mother’s beautiful face which was trying its hardest to hold back the built-up sadness. 

“My love,” she whispers, worried gaze searching my scattering eyes. 

“Miraya, what's wrong?” 

“Nothing, I just missed you guys so much,” I say softly, pulling my knees to my chest as my body sits crouched on the cold kitchen floor. 

“Just one more week, honey. Your dad is so excited, you don't even know. He has packed the fridge with your favorite food, and is holding it hostage till your arrival,” she chuckles, shaking her head at my dad's behaviour. 

“One more week,” I repeat, looking up at the picture of Koo and me on the fridge. The photo booth snapshots we took at the dumpling restaurant near the Oceana beach. I wonder if he kept his word. 

“Jungkook, what the heck?” I yelp, hitting his forearm. “I can’t show these to anyone now,” I point to the last photo, in which his face remained inches away from mine as my body froze behind his Iron Man hat. Compared to the previous three takes, this one clearly did not fit the friendly theme. 

“Why not? Nothing happened,” he grins, leaning his head back. 

“Nothing happened my ass, it's obviously suggestive,” I roll my eyes. 

“Let their imagination run wild then. I'm putting mine in my wallet, you can put yours on your bulletin board, I heard manifesting is a popular practice these days,” he chuckles teasingly, giving me a sly wink.  

“Oh, by the way, I sent you some clothes for when you arrive. It’s been raining here nonstop and I wasn’t sure if you packed good rain boots,” my mom’s voice brings me out of my daydream, as I nod my head accordingly. 

“Thank you, mommy. I’ll let you know when I receive them,” 

“No, they should have already been delivered. I got the notification today,” 

“Oh, okay, then I’ll check the mailbox right after our call,” I say with a soft smile. 

“Well, I’m not gonna take up any more of your time, I’m sure you’re busy with finals. Please, just confirm that you got the package,” my mom says, sending me a flying kiss as I wave her goodbye. 

“I love you, mommy,” 

“Love you more, Mira,” 

Putting my hair in a messy bun, I grab my keys and ID before heading out the door. I did in fact pack some rainboots upon my arrival to Korea, but didn’t have the heart to tell my mom that on the phone. Her smile was too contagious for that news. Anyways, who would pass on free clothes? So, I make my way down to the mail room before scanning the area for my number, 1289. 

“Okay, oop, jeez, how big were these boots?” I huff and puff from all the heavy lifting, before stumbling back on my tippy toes. Managing to finally open the box, my eyes widen from the amount of snacks my mom packed. You know, sometimes, I think my parents think that my university doesn’t provide food. As if I beg my neighbors for a cup of sugar each night. I can’t complain though, I really do appreciate the way they show their love and care. So, yes, I will be indulging in all of these before I leave. Locking my mailbox I get a better grip of the box before heading out, that is, until one of the front desk employees stops me. 

“Miss! You dropped something,” he points to the white envelope on the ground. 

“Oh, thank you,” I say with a soft smile before opening what seems like a letter. 

To Miss Jean,

Hello Mira, this is Mrs. Jeon. I apologize for not reaching out to you sooner, I’m sure you’ve been worried sick. But, I hope you can understand that we as a family needed to take some time to help Jungkook heal. He is doing well. Although, his memory, at least of last year has been completely wiped. It’s been a tough journey, but the fact that he regained his consciousness is truly a miracle on its own. We really thought we lost him. You have no idea how much I cried that day. For a mother, losing her child is worse than death itself. So, I thank God every day for his protection. 

With that being said, the reason I’m writing to you is regarding your relationship with Jungkook. Please don’t take this too personally, but I need you to cut all ties with him. When I received the phone call from the paramedics on site, they reported that he was found unconscious on the side of the road, holding onto a bloodstained picture of you guys. Now, I tried to remain as reasonable as possible, but he is my son and I would do anything to protect him. Even if that means coming in between you two. I’m not sure if you guys were dating or tied by any romantic relationship, but from the way he talked about you, the dots were relatively easy to connect. 

He doesn’t remember anything, Mira. He doesn’t remember you. In hindsight, maybe it's for the best. I truly hope that you will be able to understand and respect my decision. Don’t call, don’t write, don’t interact. Jungkook will be returning back to Seoul for the Fall semester, and I trust that you will follow the plan. If he initiates contact first, try your best to avoid it at all costs. Just please, don’t make me worry about him again.  

Feeling my throat tighten, my chest heaves up from the sudden flow of emotions. What is going on? What did I just read? Cut all ties? He doesn’t remember me? Did I just receive an ultimatum from Jungkook’s mom before ever meeting her? My eyes swelled with tears as I looked around, scanning the room for any sign of life that would confirm if this was real or just a bad, bad dream. 

“Miss, are you okay?” the man at the front desk asks gently, his smile slowly fading as my body drops to the floor. 

“I don’t know,” I whisper, before looking up at his worried expression. Feeling my eyes dissociate into the distance, there’s a trail of teardrops marking the wooden floor as the denial settles in. Don’t call … Don’t write … Don’t interact. 

- - 

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Toronto. It is currently 8 pm exactly and pouring cats and dogs outside. So, I hope you dressed appropriately. On behalf of the cabin crew, I would like to thank you for flying with Air Canada. Enjoy the rest of your day!” the pilot's voice mumbles through the speakers as the sound of safety belts being unbuckled fills the tight space. 

Mom was right, Mother Nature seems to not be too happy about something, because why is it thunderstorming? To be fair though, I love it when it rains. Something about its aftermath, specifically, the smell of wet cement the next morning just tickles my brain. 

Mira: Just landed! Will be out shortly ❤️

Mommy: Thank goodness, we can't wait to see you, my love!

Daddy: Miraya, honey, I'll be standing right by the doors to help with the luggage. 

Mino: I hope you packed lightly -_- 

Milo: Mira, did you get us anything? ;)

Having younger brothers is definitely an experience, but I can’t lie, I managed to miss them as well. And, as I rolled my suitcase down the exit, I could feel my heartbeat increase, palms getting sweaty from the nerves. Overwhelmed by the emotions, it takes only a glimpse of my father’s face for me to break down. With tears rolling down my flushed face, we pulled each other into a long embrace, as my mother’s hands caressed my dishevelled curls. Pressing a soft kiss on my forehead, she cups my face in her warm palms before searching my teary eyes. 

“My sweet, sweet girl,” she says softly, wiping my tears with her pink handkerchief, as my dad navigates us out of the airport to our car.  

The drive back home was rather sentimental. With every turn I caught myself reminiscing my childhood memories. The time I broke my wrist falling off the monkey bars in my elementary park, or the time my friends and I tried to sneak into a frat party dressed like those edgy college girls … you can imagine the outcome, I don’t even have to explain. 

“Peaches!” 

A faint voice brings me out of my dissociation as I snap my head towards my younger brother whose smile visibly fades from the intensity of my stare. 

“What?” Milo asks slowly, eyebrows furrowed from confusion. 

“What did you just say?” I scoff, a bit more harshly than initially intended. 

“Mommy asked what fruit she should use for her pie …” his words trail off into the car's ambience, as my eyes swell with tears. God, I miss Jungkook so much that I’m now hearing things. Surely, this isn’t healthy. 

“Sorry, I must have misheard you,” I try to subside the suspense with a soft smile before looking out the rainy window again. Feeling my throat slowly tighten, I try to shake away the thought that somewhere across the ocean, rests a soul whose heart no longer beats for me. 

“He doesn’t remember you, Mira,” Mrs. Jeon’s voice keeps replaying in my head as I bury my face deeper into the duvet, attempting to block the thoughts with my pillow. Unfortunately though, It’s not working as the haunting realization of our future, or rather, the lack of it, has already consumed my conscious mind. It’s not fair. I’ve lost him once and can’t bear to lose him again. Which, I guess … is exactly what Mrs. Jeon is feeling right now. 

“Ugh, Mira, shhhh. Please, just let me sleep,” I snap at my racing thoughts, turning aimlessly inside the soft sheets before feeling my body slowly give in to the fatigue as my vision goes pitch black. 

“Koo!” I call out his name as we run towards each other with open arms across a field of orange tiger lilies. 

“My sweet, sweet girl,” he says softly, lifting me in the air before we melt into each other’s embrace. Tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear, he caresses my cheek with the back of his palm before searching my teary eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks hushly, leaning closer as our lips rest inches apart. 

“Koo, please tell me that you remember me, that you remember us,” I cry out, placing my hands on his warm chest. 

“Of course, I do Peaches. What are you saying?” Jungkook’s voice is soft but full of worry as he moves my hand to his heart. 

“You lost your memory. Your mom said you don’t remember anything. Nothing,” 

“Mira, baby, please don’t cry. It was all a dream, I promise,” he says with a gentle smile, before wiping the tears off my face, resting his forehead on mine.

“It’s you and me, till my heart stops beating,” 

His words fade into the distance before I’m awakened by the feeling of sheer distress. Chest heaving up, there’s sweat dripping down my face as I reach for my journal on the nightstand. With shaky hands, I jot down the sudden overflow of my emotions in the form of a letter. 

Dear Koo, 

I saw you today and … it felt so real. Your embrace was warm, familiar and full of love. We were finally happy again. Except … it wasn't real, none of it was real. You promised it was all just a dream, but you lied. This … this is a nightmare.

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