#but the big picture of it all? life-changing. immaculate. hate to say it but you do have to hand it to moffat once in a while

[masterreborn]

the overarching narrative of eleven’s era is honestly phenomenal, and it hits harder every time i watch it. the doctor has been burdened for so long by the weight of his decision to destroy gallifrey — a decision he made out of dire necessity, but that went against the very core of his being and everything he’s ever stood for — and he’s been fighting ever since to balance the ledger. (how many worlds do you think his regret has saved, do you think?) but despite every victory, he can’t escape his grief and guilt, and they inevitably begin to turn him into someone he never wanted to become. (a nameless, terrible thing, soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies. the most feared being in all the cosmos.) all of this leads him to TDotD, where he comes face-to-face with the single greatest regret of his life — and realizes he has a chance to change it. he makes a new decision, and every version of himself that’s ever existed comes together across space and time to try to save gallifrey instead of destroying it, because that is who the doctor is. (never cruel or cowardly. never give up; never give in.)

and in saving gallifrey, he saves himself; it doesn’t rewrite the centuries of pain that brought him to that moment, but it allows him to heal and move forward with renewed understanding of his identity and purpose. the name he chose was a promise he made, and he’s kept that promise. all the threads woven slowly throughout the plot come together after that — the cracks in the universe, the silence’s plan to kill him, the looming shadow of trenzalore and the question that must never be answered. and after trying to outrun his fate and cheat death for so long, he finally stops running. when he reaches trenzalore he dedicates what he believes are the final years of his life to defending a tiny village on this unimportant little planet, because he knows with more certainty than ever that he is the doctor, and this is what he stands for. (every life i save is a victory. every single one.) all that time, the question is repeated over and over, for hundreds of years — the oldest question in the universe, hidden in plain sight, and when the answer is spoken at last, it’s exactly what we’ve known from the very beginning. his “true” name, the secret he’ll take to his grave, has never mattered. what matters is the name he chose, and the promise he made. (his name is the doctor. all the name he needs, everything you need to know about him.)

when it’s time for him to go, it feels triumphant; the eleventh doctor was born in an inferno, with a youthful face and a flashy, silly personality made to conceal an ocean of pain beneath, but now he’s finally at peace. now free from the grief and remorse he carried for so long, he lays his pretense of childlike insouciance to rest, and the twelfth doctor emerges with a new lease on life and an old, weathered face — one that was chosen as a perfect culmination of the journey that brought him here. (i know where i got this face, and i know what it’s for: to remind me. to hold me to the mark. i’m the doctor, and i save people.)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Between the Lines 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, Lee is rude, customer service triggers. and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Lee Bodecker

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

‘So no one told you life was gonna be this way…’

You nearly clap to the theme song stuck in your head. You resist and continue your patrol of the aisle. The lyrics are oddly poignant as you traverse the bookstore. Two degrees and this is what you’re left with. This is far from what you expected.

You don’t hate the job, only the customers. Sometimes. You love books and when you got the call, you were all too happy to trade in your Starbucks apron for collared shirts and dark slacks. As much as you miss the free drinks, you’re more confident around literature.

You come down the main aisle of the store, around the tables in the middle with stacks of best-sellers and promotions, as a woman enters. She’s striking in her pencil skirt and sleek cinched trench coat. Her hair is immaculately highlighted blonde and gold and highlights her beauty. She doesn’t see you in her hurry, surpassing you for the Biography section.

Another customer follows her in the door. He looks after her as he stops just inside. Your curiosity stitches in your forehead. He’s rather intent on trailing her. His jacket has a star pinned on its chest; a cop.

Oh, shoot. Not another thief. You go to greet the officer, “hello, sir, can I help you?”

“Nah, thanks,” he waves you off, his knuckles nearly hit you in the cheek.

You back up and let him pass. You could be wrong but you can’t risk shrink on your shift. Not again. You casually head in the same direction, pretending to fix some book spines as you peer down the aisle where the woman looks back and forth elusively. Hmmm.

You stride towards her and put on your best smile, “hello, miss, is there something I can help you with?”

She looks at you, almost breathless, “um, do you have a bathroom?”

She cranes to peek over her shoulder again. She shudders as if disgusted. You hear the cop down the next row, slowly pacing. You point her towards the back. You don’t see how she could be hiding anything, her jacket is open and her purse isn’t that big.

She hurries off, heels tapping, as she escapes towards the bathrooms. You shrug and continue on, rounding the end and continuing towards the officer. He sees you and frowns, turning his interest to the graphic novels. Your favourite.

“Anything I can help you find?” You ask in your most chipper tone.

“No,” he grumbles, glancing over the shelves towards the fading click of the woman’s heels.

“Um, is something wrong?” You wonder.

“Can you mind your business?” He asks as he turns on you, “I’m a man of the law, I don’t needa explain myself to you.”

“Of course, sir,” you swallow, taken aback by his tone, “I didn’t mean too. I just thought… if you need help. I’m sorry. I’ll be around if you change your mind.”

You show your palms, meekly excusing yourself as you back away. You turn and take a step, skin blazing in embarrassment. You feel as if you’ve been slapped across the face.

“Now, wait a minute, sweetheart,” the officer calls after you, “I should be sayin’ sorry. I wasn’t meanin’ to be so rude. I’m just… long day, ya know?”

You stop and slowly face him. You do your best to shake away the tension. It’s work and it’s not often you get an apology from a customer.

“Yeah, I know,” you give a rocky half-chuckle, “um, so… what did you come in for?”

“Ah, you know, lookin’ around, uh, these comic books,” he points beside him, “they got lots of pictures?”

“Uh, yeah,” you answer as you face the shelf, “do you have a specific genre in mind? Superheroes? Apocalyptic? Mystery? Anime?”

“Well, I got this nephew, he’s real into this stuff. Nerd type things,” he scoffs, “that Batman guy and his car.”

“Oh, looking for a gift? Birthday?” You prompt.

“I ain’t seen my sister in some years and she asked me over. Long story, don’t matter, but I don’t wanna show up empty handed.”

“That’s sweet. A family reunion,” you turn and peruse the shelf, “well, you could get a couple of issues, we’re having buy two get the third free, but an anthology would go a lot further. A bit pricier though.”

“Hmm,” he peruses thoughtfully as he leans in, “you probably don’t know too much either, being a lady and all. But you could help me with my sister. I heard about some writer, Hooter or something?”

“Colleen Hoover? Uh, sure, most people like those and they’re an easy read,” you explain, “but if you’re looking for comics about Batman, I have many suggestions. The Dark Knight is a good read, way better than the movie–”

“I got it figured,” he reaches to slide out Batman: Year One. Not a bad choice, actually. “Now you show me this Hoover whatever. Sounds like a dang vacuum.”

He’s demanding but you’ve dealt with worse. Besides, it’s easier at least when they know what they want. You take him around to the table of popular authors.

“A lot of people like It Ends With Us,” you point to the pink cover, “Maybe Someday also tends to be a hit.”

“You talk a lot, don’t ya?” He grumbles as he puts his hand on his hip, his stomach straining inside his jacket.

“Oh, I’m s-sorry, sir,” you take a breath, neck prickling as you feel your nerves spike, “I’m only doing my job. If you don’t need my help–”

“Did I say that? You ever let a man sit in silence?”

You blink at him and your smile evaporates. What a jackass. You could blame it on the badge but you suspect he’s just a completely intolerable person. No wonder his sister didn’t talk to him for so long.

“Sir, you can pay at the front counter. You can also ask any questions you have up there.” You lean back on your heel, “I have stocking to do.”

“Now, don’t you give me that look. Customer’s always right, ain’t they?” You press your lips in a firm line. You glare at him as he snickers, “you got no respect. Ladies these days seem to forget what that means.” He grabs a book from the table without checking the cover, “I’ll be certain to tell the manager how helpful you were, sweetheart.”

He nears and you stand your ground, taking measured breaths as your wits threaten to crack. He looks you up and down and snorts. He winks as he cradles the books in one arm, reaching to boop your nose with his index. You pull away as your chagrin ripples across your face.

“Some ladies just needa learn their place,” he drops his hand and continues on, swaggering in his victory. Pathetic, it’s not that hard to demean someone who can’t talk back.

[wooyoungisbaby]

*ahem*

hwa: Dommy mommy Hwa? sign me the fuck uP. These words you speak remind me of twitter user hwcberry's art :')

(I can't stop imagining mommy!hwa taking care of the members when they're sad and miss home, are stressed from too much work and too little sleep etc ;_; Just, woo/san/yeosang/[name] crying into his tiddies as he pets and reassures them, coos over them, and then probably rails them to make it all better.)

i Need seonghwa's cock and strap Right Now actually byeeee

love the contrast between elegant dom hwa and messy sub hwa =u=

listen i just really love the hc that Seonghwa is super sensitive and might cum prematurely asdskjasdjkdaskj

THEre's just something about his body that looks like he'd be so so sensitive ; o; i cant explain it more than that dhfshs

like if you want to do a long scene together; it’s so easy to just get a quick orgasm out of him and then have a real fucking hyper-sensitive Seonghwa at your disposal for the remainder of the night uwu

this fucking SENT me, there's something so mean (affectionate) about treating a sub's body like they're something to be toyed with and made to do things just for the dom's amusement. smth smth light objectification,

strongly agree that he'd have a very hard time hiding how good he feels >u> you know that sorrowful looking crease he gets in between his eyebrows when he sings smth particularly high? yeah.

hongjoong: YEa he very much has the vibe of someone who will be a bit of a meanie, but will immediately drop the act and make sure you're okay if you he gets even the slightest sense that you aren't enjoying it. he's actually so so polite and, more importantly, genuinely caring, and he'd do his absolute best to only do things both of you actually enjoy ; ;

but watching you go from all immaculate and put-together to a depraved begging mess

EXACTLY and thats why he's such a good match with seonghwa :)

every single thing you said about sub joong, [chef's kiss emoji]. i don't think i've actually seen any sassy brat hongjoong fics, but now i wanna >U>

yunho:

also unless i hallucinated that whole thing; Yunho has said he likes hearing atiny whine his name (sir?!?!?!?)

NO i remember this too. the menace. and yet i can't help but feel like he's pretty vanilla. it always seems just a bit off to me when he's written as a hard, mean dom (no hate to those that live their truth though 💯💯💯). his eyes just look soft and light in a way i can't imagine ever changing, even though i've literally seen them change when he's on stage lol. but like, in his own personal life? im not convinced. ig i'll have to keep reading hard dom yunho things for research purposes :3c

he gets off on how much you get off on having his hands around your neck

see now that you say this, i can very much imagine him enjoying things he doesn't personally care for, only because his partner is visibly/audibly affected >:3

ACK smol yunho ;A; he deserves to feel so so small and cute always!!!

i think he would be SUCH a good boy, just as you said =u= all big pleading emoji eyes and whimpers. he deserves the world ;A;

yeo:

so tbh it’s much easier for me to picture Yeosang as a sub

ok Mood,

curiosity-driven dom Yeosang

OH keep talking 👀

:O whah... i really like that section about him. he might manage to accidentally work his way into the pain side of things without meaning to[edit: OH you literally said this right after lmaooo], but if his partner likes it, he'll have absolutely no desire to stop. he wants to know all he can about their body! :')

can’t sit or lay still if you’re worshiping that gorgeous body or giving head; you’re gonna have to hold him down to stop his fidgety squirming uwu

uhhhhh Bondage ✨ that's all. actually that's not all, he should be tied down so thoroughly that he can barely even squirm, so his partner has a nice and easy time manipulating his body in the best way they know how, all but forcing him to be still and take it, and make beautiful sounds for them. ...who said that,

san: SIMP SAN REAL !!!!

you already know i live for every single sub!san word that comes out of your mouth (and atp dom!san words too) so im moving on,

mingi:

maybe he doesn’t even mean to dom you but he’s so desperate for it he just can’t wait and ends up overwhelming you and it’s lowkey kinda clumsy but very sweet and oh god he just wants you so so bad 🥺

i died :) ty

no fr thats SO fucking cute and i can totally see it especially with less experienced mingi :'))

don’t be too mean abt it tho :( remember he’s a princess :(((

yea!!! his partner should only keep going until he's sobbing a little bit >:3c

if he’s domming you and you’re in the mood to turn the tables? this man’s switch is flipped in an INSTANT you just gotta yank his hair hard and spew out some filthy degradation and he’s putty in your hands

YES he'd melt instantly oh my gosh. i just think he's always in the mood to sub. and im right :3

have you seen his giggles and smiles when the other members compliment him???

not a day goes by where i don't think about this wooyoung. he was so happy he couldnt help but be silly about it T_T <3

(this may be a semi-spoiler 👀)

OH WORM??

im losing commenting-steam but ACH K sub jongho being well behaved.....what a dreamy little guy i love him and ilu too MWAH <3

SUB / DOM ATEEZ HARD THOUGHTS

@wooyoungisbaby Isak asked abt dom / sub thoughts for the guys, and my rambling got out of hand. as it always does lol. self-control? we don’t know her

(ik you suggested to do this for the whiway au but! then i wouldn’t be able to talk abt sub Yunho :( & i can’t not talk abt sub Yunho :((( so these are just general thoughts abt the guys hehe~ ฅV●ᴥ●Vฅ)

sooooooo i am a huge switch-teez enthusiast; and this is essentially a bullet-point dissertation w/ a selection of d/s thoughts for each of the guys that make me go particularly 👀 they’re not meant to be speculation abt the guys’ preferences, just things that are very easy for me to imagine & that i think would be very very hot of them (｡◝‿◜｡)

warnings: dom / sub themes obv. also mentions of; penetrative sex, overstimulation, oral, ass eating, mommy kink, lingerie (on Hwa), riding crop, strap-on, DP in unspecified holes, dacryphilia, shibari / bondage, premature ejaculation, hair-pulling, drooling, sadism, corruption kink, brat taming, sugar daddy vibes, jewelry on reader, hand kink, implied choking, fingering (again unspecified holes), edging, puppy play, role play (including cnc for Yunho but no in-depth details), cockwarming, marking / bruises, blindfolds, pain kink, praise kink, dry humping, degradation kink, orgasm denial, dirty talk, biting, hair pulling, face sitting

a/n: gender neutral reader. genitalia are mentioned once w/ options. implied double anal penetration in absence of a puss, implied pegging in absence of a cock. there is a brief mention that reader could wear heels if they wanted for a scenario.

also my Yunho bias shows hard x_x i tried to keep the lengths under control but i just let myself go for his and i shall not apologise for it asdskjdasjk

⩥ SEONGHWA

Dom:

whether he is soft & gentle or hard & mean, Seonghwa is always elegant

even with sweat dripping off his nose from the exertion of fucking into you, even with his lower face covered in slick from eating pussy or cum dribbling down his chin from sucking dick, he is the most graceful dom to ever walk this earth

his long tongue is a blessing but his technique and dedication are divinity

you WILL get overstimulated

yes i have the mommy Seonghwa brainrot. yes i like imagining him in lingerie and a corset and make-up and heels while he’s in utter and complete control

to finish the look; riding crop??? riding crop.

also idk why but the thought of Hwa with a strap-on makes me so fucking dizzy. this man fucking you w/ two cocks at once

his strap would be so sleek and elegant too just like him

matches his favourite lingerie probably; Hwa is dedicated to the aesthetics

speaking of aesthetics; shibari (that’s it that’s the tweet)

saccharine sweet if you earn it

Sub:

fucking pathetic sloppy mess as a sub

listen i just really love the hc that Seonghwa is super sensitive and might cum prematurely asdskjasdjkdaskj

will prob cum from just being manhandled into giving head if he can get even just a lil friction going somewhere 👀 as a sub he likes to get sloppy, loves having his hair pulled

(ass, cock or pussy, this man gets drunk on it)

like if you want to do a long scene together; it’s so easy to just get a quick orgasm out of him and then have a real fucking hyper-sensitive Seonghwa at your disposal for the remainder of the night uwu

tie him up for maximum effect

cries so easily 🥺

can’t hide a thing, every ounce of pleasure shows on his face like an open book

hiccups and sobs and bite-swollen lips bc he keeps gnawing at his bottom lip, so so easily overwhelmed

…again; lingerie. put him in thigh-highs and knead at the soft flesh and cover those thighs all over w/ bites and hickeys

⩥ HONGJOONG

Dom:

listen…………we all know that grin………………………………………

what kind of world do we live in if our captain is not at least a tiny bit of a sadist??

lives to hear you beg

degradation as praise? praise as degradation? the line between being praised and being demeaned is soooo fucking razor-thin w/ this man

100% on purpose he likes it when you can’t tell for sure

(tho he is super cognisant of your state of mind. if he sees the doubt is genuinely getting to you, you’re getting a dose of pure unmistakable praise to settle you down)

he’ll happily tame a brat but he looooves ruining a sub who is already pliant for him. just to be mean.

i’m all aboard the Hongjoong corruption kink agenda

not even necessarily in a ‘you are inexperienced’ way (tho he can work w/ that 👀)

but watching you go from all immaculate and put-together to a depraved begging mess

yep

that does it for him

likes giving you jewelry to wear during sex. delicate body-chains and pretty necklaces that bounce when he fucks you. lowkey sugar daddy vibes; he loves seeing you decked out, but he esp loves seeing you decked out in things he bought you

Sub:

so while i love the image of Hongjoong offering himself up on a silver platter to you w/ a crooked grin; tbh i feel like he has potential to be a sub who outbrats even Wooyoung if he is In A Mood

the SASS on this man!!!

but once you break that snarky attitude? dear god the whines coming out of him ♨_♨

(listen do not be surprised if i use some variation of the word ‘whiny’ in every single sub section bc i know what i like and i am shameless abt it asdkjasdj)

noisy squirmy boi

on his elbows and knees, biting at the sheets as he gets fucked hard from behind, going slack-jawed and drooling on the bed as you wreck him into a stupor

fucked into complete physical exhaustion in the direct aftermath — but let him have a quick nap and his energy is like… he might still be tired but he’s also feeling so replenished? esp mentally

if he’s recently had a lot of on his mind then you might be treated to deep philosophical musings during the aftercare abt the world, the universe, life and everything

⩥ YUNHO

Dom:

i get pulled so hard into two directions w/ this man pls it’s not funny anymore i need HELP

he’s both the softest vanilla and the hardest freakiest dom out of the bunch to me, he's got my brain spinning

listen yall we all know how willingly Yunho indulges the fandom’s massive hard-on for his hands, imagine what he’ll do if he’s your partner ♨_♨

he gets off on how much you get off on having his hands around your neck

also unless i hallucinated that whole thing; Yunho has said he likes hearing atiny whine his name (sir?!?!?!?) so I'm gonna say he's a tease even when he's soft with you

takes you to the brink with those long fingers over and over again, pretends the edging is by accident

presses sweet kisses on your forehead or your tummy or your thighs as he laughs softly at your whining but points out he needs to get you prepped first for what he's packing; he just doesn't want to hurt you uwu

whether it is sincere sweetness or w/ an edge of mocking, depends entirely on his mood

(fake sweet Yunho my beloved ;;)

you're not fooled by his shenanigans but there's little you can do except gasp and squirm under him as his fingers press against your sweet spot again

still he’ll praise you every step of the way, and the payoff is more than worth it, he always makes sure of that

ok so the next thing isn’t really a dom / sub thing but it’s going somewhere that is, pls hear me out;

Yunho is totally up for some playful rp; he’ll do cheesy porn set-ups w/ you except he cannot keep a straight face through them to save his life lol. very lighthearted silly giggly sex that still makes your toes curl

he can keep a straight face through a very different type of role play; cnc

it’s not uncommon for Yunho to try and make you laugh during sex if a moment presents itself — but here he fully sinks into the role and there won’t be any light-heartedness until the aftercare,

and then you’ll be giggling twice as much as usual, once the timing is right ;;

the aftercare giggles are for Yunho’s benefit too; he needs to make and see you smile & laugh to feel like he’s fully come back into himself. to regain the right emotional equilibrium after taking on such an intense role

then he’s your sweet smiley golden retriever again ;;

might just fuck you again if you both have the energy, sweet and soft and slow this time ♡

Sub:

OKAY SO FIRST THINGS FIRST i gotta bring up that video in which Seonghwa and Wooyoung wear heels for a shoot and they joke around abt their heights — but then Yunho turns to the camera and whispers he’d like to be small; bc he’d be cute!!!

he’s always been pocket-sized in spirit to me so that had me by the throat asdkjasdkjd

so yeah i like to think he enjoys feeling small as a sub! not in a demeaning way, not even in a physical way necessarily!

(tho to be down on his knees in front of a dom who is either pretty tall or wearing heels (or both) does make him feel fantastically fuzzy)

no, it’s more like a cute lil pup who’s getting spoiled bc he’s a good boy uwu

(actual petplay optional~ ฅV●ᴥ●Vฅ)

love a sub Yunho who’s soft and well-behaved

and he wants to be! he wants to be a good boy and get pampered by his dom!! but sometimes his big golden retriever energy gets the better of him oop

(the video clip of a literal child scolding Yunho because “this hyung just won’t listen to me” lives in my head rent-free.)

and Yunho just can't always fight his brain when it sends him a fun impulse askdjdaskjsd

but it only takes gentle steering to get him back on track; like i said, he wants to be well-behaved for you 🥺

ok but to circle back to the puppy play

Yunho who loves being your good boy and is so playful and sweet — but he obediently lets you take your time to work him up and get him desperate

big brown eyes shimmering at you as you scratch him behind the ears while stroking his big hard cock

begging you to let him fuck you, to just let him inside you

so you sit in his lap and cockwarm him but you can tell it’s not enough, gets teary-eyed and he bites his lip to stop himself from whining bc you’re already giving him so much and he wants to be good

so you have mercy on him and let him fuck you from behind — if he makes you cum first

now there’s a demand Yunho can work with

usually he’s a hands-on guy but in puppy mode he prefers using his mouth and tongue. so he’s snugly between your thighs, getting himself messy. constant eye-contact as he peeks up at you, massaging your thighs and maybe even leaving a bite if he’s feeling cheeky — but he knows better than to tease too much

he is so far gone by the time he’s finally allowed to fuck you that he can’t do anything but mindlessly rut until he cums hard, gasping and shaking

still he makes sure not to collapse on top of you, instead slides off to the side and pulls you into his arms for a snuggle 🥺

(see Isak i wasn’t kidding abt whipping up a 1k essay just for Yunho alone! lol oop)

⩥ YEOSANG

Dom:

so tbh it’s much easier for me to picture Yeosang as a sub, but i do have this very specific idea for him that i can’t get out of my head of like

curiosity-driven dom Yeosang

maybe he was a lil shy at first, cautiously exploring your body and testing your reactions, but his eyes just lit up with intrigue when you let out a loud moan he didn't expect

that moment kick-starts it all, with him becoming bolder and bolder to seek out any other responses to his touch

do you moan when he kisses you here? do you gasp at a bite there? squirm when he pinches here?

and he never grows satisfied as he maps out your responses to pleasure — and pain, if you are so inclined

like

Yeosang stumbles into the whole pain play thing purely by accident but it’s barely even abt the sadism for him? if that makes sense?? it’s all about you and your arousal and the wide range of pleasure he can draw from you

he just wants to know

there’s always this sense of wonder abt him and his sparkling eyes when he’s playing w/ you

he probably gets even more experimental as time passes, actively on the look-out for new things he can try out

you’ll just be having a quiet evening and Yeosang comes up to you w/ that adorable small smile that on a surface level is full of innocence

but no he’s cutely excited to show you some obscure toy he found online and wants to know if you’re onboard ^^

Sub:

so vocal (っ˘ڡ˘ς)

shy but has a reeeaaaally hard time holding himself back if he’s overwhelmed

seriously so so noisy w/ lil whimpers and moans and quiet hitches of his breath. takes a bit for him to truly get loud, but dear god you’re still treated to a goddamn symphonic masterpiece of delectable noises

speaking of getting him loud 👀

if Yeosang trusts you but there’s some last remnant of shyness that he needs to shake off

he loves getting blindfolded

not seeing anything makes it easier for him to get lost in the pleasure; if nothing else exists in the world except you and your touch, he has nothing to be self-conscious of

that’s where he can get loud

can’t sit or lay still if you’re worshiping that gorgeous body or giving head; you’re gonna have to hold him down to stop his fidgety squirming uwu

gets flushed easily too

bruises like a peach and tho he gets shy abt marks in visible places, he lowkey loves it when you treat his chest like a blank canvas

pls gently brush his hair back & give his birth mark a lil peck during the aftercare okay? 🥺

⩥ SAN

Dom:

is it cheeky to say “just read whichever way”? it is?? okay alright lol

no but okay this man is dripping w/ care & devotion i want him SIMPING!!!

he LIVES for the praise and the validation, all it takes is a lil bit of encouragement and positive enforcement; and he may be the dom but you’ve still got him wrapped around your finger

while he can be the softest of soft service doms, it doesn’t take much to get San a lil rougher w/ you; he gets amped up easily and loves using his strength to your advantage

but you want him to be a mean dom? you can get him there but you’ll have to WORK for it by riling him the fuck up w/ some attitude bc this man’s natural instincts are to just please you all through the night (´︶｀)

San also loves to surprise-pin you against the wall. there’s just smth abt the spontaneity and passion of the moment that gets him going hard

depending on his mood he could either fuck you right then and there, or ravish you only to pull away w/ a smug, self-satisfied grin at how wrecked you are from just making out and a bit of dry-humping

(he’ll be back. San is too horned up to not finish the job)

Sub:

MAKE! HIM!! WHIMPER!!! AND CRY!!!!!!!

no but seriously a flushed Sannie pouting up at you when you deny him again 🥺

just the thought of him as like

a very very soft sub who yearns to get fucking wrecked by you 🥺

make him whine and writhe until he can’t handle it anymore and tears begin to streak down his cheeks

body worship melts this man into a fucking puddle and yes i am also talking abt tittie appreciation here

he always wants to be so strong and reliable for others but here in your care is where he can let all of that go 🥺 and just break down until you put him together again 🥺

SO MUCH CUDDLING IN THE AFTERCARE

YOU COULDN’T GET OUT OF HIS ARMS IF YOU TRIED

PLS DON’T TRY; JUST LOVINGLY STROKE HIS HAIR AND WHISPER SWEET PRAISES AT HIM 🥺🥺🥺

⩥ MINGI

Dom:

okay so i also get pulled so hard into two very different directions when it comes to dom Mingi askjasdjkdsa

one is Mingi the needy mess

like

maybe he doesn’t even mean to dom you but he’s so desperate for it he just can’t wait and ends up overwhelming you and it’s lowkey kinda clumsy but very sweet and oh god he just wants you so so bad 🥺

BUT THEN THERE IS

Mingi w/ his damn cocky on-stage energy?? and he’s intense and confident and knows what he wants??? (you, ruined)

like idk either way i have many feelings abt dom Mingi being super intense and he will overwhelm you either way, either by accident or by design

just strap in tight bc he wants to hear you ♨_♨

very vocal himself too. i like the thought of him spewing filth at you first but very quickly losing the capacity for any coherent dirty talk

still

you will hear him too OOF

high & whiny or low & raspy? y e s

Sub:

PRINCESS MINGIIIIIII!!!! (♡°▽°♡)

spoil him give him whatever the hell his heart desires!!!!!! again a NOISY MESS!!! tears up easily but doesn’t like to admit he’s crying uwu

gets even more discombobulated than as a dom hehe~

however

much like his buddy Yunho, i don't think Mingi often deliberately tries to misbehave

but he can get a bit sulky sometimes if he feels neglected

or, on the other side of the spectrum, just a touch too confident if he’s gotten too used to you giving him exactly what he wants and starts treating it as a given, or makes lil jokes abt it

it edges against that cockiness again but tbh it’s also lowkey endearing on him as a sub; his blind faith in your devotion to his pleasure

but you may choose to give him a lil reminder of who is actually in charge ♡ denying him a few times until he’s whining and babbling incoherently at you should do the trick perfectly ♡♡♡

don’t be too mean abt it tho :( remember he’s a princess :(((

⩥ WOOYOUNG

Dom:

OKAY SO YES ISAK I’M FULLY W/ YOU ON THE BRAT THING

like i said truly my favourite flavour of dom Wooyoung is a fucking tease of a menace who isn’t so much a dom as a brat who hasn’t been tamed yet

if he’s domming you and you’re in the mood to turn the tables? this man’s switch is flipped in an INSTANT you just gotta yank his hair hard and spew out some filthy degradation and he’s putty in your hands

brace yourself if he’s got you tied up tho lol. he is gonna enjoy himself :3

honestly he should change his home-address bc this man lives w/ his face between your thighs. gets so fucking drunk on you but never so much that he ever stops his teasing

a true edging enthusiast

hope you like bite-marks on your skin lol

and yet…

and yet i have a big soft spot for soft dom Woo too 🥺

who takes care of you after you’ve had a long, frustrating day 🥺

i feel like he could bigtime spoil and pamper his partners if he feels they really need it 🥺 he might still tease you a lil but it’s only to get you out of your head, maybe even just to make you laugh 🥺

Sub:

love a sub Wooyoung who balances a praise and a degradation kink like he’s walking a tightrope uwu

like we all talk abt his degradation kink bc of course we do!! with good reason!!! but have you seen his giggles and smiles when the other members compliment him???

sometimes he doesn’t even know himself what he’s in the mood for today — or so he tells himself. any bratty urges will make themselves known real damn obvious within mere seconds lol

instigator to the max

initiates phone sex w/ you and then hangs up on you just before it Gets Good just to rile you up (this may be a semi-spoiler 👀)

but he loves the combo special where he brats out to his heart’s content first, gets humiliated and/or punished for his trouble, but oh boy then his mood turns and he eats it UP to get praised for being such a good boy now (´꒳`∗)

will beg you to ride his face

(he’ll have you riding his face as a dom too, he just won’t be begging 👀)

⩥ JONGHO

Dom:

so i actually love love love gentle soft dom Jongho 🥺 but i decided to focus on the flip side for this post

hard dom Jongho who has a mean streak and looooooves to tease the fuck out of you. he doesn’t even need to verbally degrade you (tho he might); you hear his cocky chuckle and know exactly what a pathetic mess he thinks you are for him

but gets soft and SUPER ADORABLE in the aftercare??? just imagine this man fucking you within an inch of your life and then he cleans you up after

and gives you that sweet gummy smile while he’s literally wiping his cum off your body w/ a warm cloth???

giggles when you exhaustedly call him a menace or praise him?????

god i just perished

he loves playing it nonchalant too tho. having you between his legs sucking him off, looking down at your teary eyes and swollen lips bobbing up and down his fat cock like he dgaf

don’t let him fool you — watch for how tightly his hands are clenched into fists

Sub:

just wanna spoil & baby him :( def feel Jongho has to be ‘in the mood’ to sub, but then pls just be so soft with him and take care of him and make him feel good :(

he’d generally be a very soft, well-behaved sub;

he feels that if subbing is the role he’s taking on, then submissiveness is the role he’s taking on, youknow it’s almost matter-of-factly for him

THAT BEING SAID; Jongho is still Jongho and won’t keep his mouth shut if he feels you’re doing or saying smth that deserves to be teased abt or made fun of ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

your response needs to be a lil calculated;

he doesn’t really enjoy being outright punished or treated as a brat too much. prob feels it’s undignified lol

…unless he’s already super far gone 👀

so the secret here is to pretend you’re letting his teasing slide — until he’s at the fucking brink and then he’ll accept you laying on a lil bit of punishment as payback 👀

he’s not super loud in bed but you’ll get the prettiest lil breathy gasps and moans out of him asjksdjkdsajkdajs

[sofiakistein]

Hello! Could I please have a Obey Me brothers and dateables reaction to their s/o being the child of Hades? So their s/o will eventually have to take over the underworld and they're a royalty. Also their s/o is very mysterious and beautiful and they also have powers like Hades.

❱ Hi, baby! Is this the Obey Me! x Twisted Wonderland mashup I've been waiting for? DOWN BAD FOR IT OMFG. If the anon that sent this is reading right now, just hit me up again so we can elaborate on this together <3

└➤ 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Obey me! characters x gn! reader

└➤𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1k

└➤⚠️𝖙𝖜: I would say there are non, but if you find some, then lmk. All characters are 18+ here.

prompts

𝕃𝕦𝕔𝕚𝕗𝕖𝕣: when Diavolo tells him that you are the child of Hades, he goes nuts. The thing is that Lucifer firmly believes that Diavolo is the one and only ruler, so having the future ruler of the underworld could be dangerous. Also, if you have magic and powers just like Hades, Lucifer would probably see them as a threat.

You are very mysterious. I mean, you won't spill all your life to a bunch of unknown demons, right? So this is what Lucifer hates and loves the most. I think that the fact that you are not easy to open up just like him, intrigues Lucifer.

Lucifer gets sad when you have to go back to the underworld because he knows that your schedules are going to change, and you won't have much time to see each other.

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

𝕄𝕒𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟: As expected, the Avatar of Greed has a ban from going to the underworld, so he tries to convince you to lift it. Mammon thinks that the type of magic that you use is fucking awesome, but he would never say that in real life, tho.

I think that Mammon would still be pretty much the scummy second-born he is, but like 100x annoying because he wants to get to know you, so he tries to learn things about the underworld so that he can hang out with you.

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟: Why do you have to have such a great backstory and powers? Like, you being the child of Hades is 100x better than being the Avatar of Envy, so I think that Levi would be mean to you at the very beginning of your days in the Devildom.

But as time pass by, Levi starts to like you because you are very cool, and also because he thinks that it would be a big flex to say that his s\o will become the ruler of the underworld.

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕒𝕟: This man is head-over-heals about you. The fact that Hades is your dad, your powers, the place where you come from, and your personality is something that Satan loves. He has never gone to the underworld because he hasn't needed to do it just yet, that's why he acts like a little kid when you take him with you to your home.

He admires everything with such respect it's immaculate. Satan would ask you questions all the fucking day because it's different to read about it in books than the real-life experience. Even when you have to assume the throne in the underworld and rule it, Satan finds the time and space for you to be together.

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

𝔸𝕤𝕞𝕠𝕕𝕖𝕦𝕤:: This man right here becomes a simp since day one. Asmo goes to the underworld frequently to get some spa days, that's why when you arrive he thinks that you need to hang out ASAP.

From all the brothers, he takes care of you the most, I mean, you are the future ruler of the underworld, right? That's why you have to be a 10/10 the whole time.

Asmo also posts on Devilgram about how proud he is of you.

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

𝔹𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕫𝕖𝕓𝕦𝕓: We all know it, my guy is pretty chill, so since day one, he would get along with you. Has once asked you if you can make food with your powers. Did it work? I don't know, it's up to you, lmao.

I don't think Beel is the type of guy that goes to the underworld that often, but when you take him he is the happiest demon alive. You go to all the restaurants there, and he takes like 200 pictures of your trip because those are his most valuable memories of you.

Eventually, when you have to take over the underworld, he thinks about moving there to be with you, but suddenly, the memories of when Lillith wanted to do the same for her lover appeared on his mind, so he learns to understand that you two live in different worlds but still love you with his entire heart and appetite.

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

𝔹𝕖𝕝𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕘𝕠𝕣: At least you are not a human, which is good, but still, he doesn't find the appeal in you.

It's until he realizes that as you are the child of Hades, you possess the Cap of Invisibility, which if he uses, allows him to turn invisible and sleep whenever he wants without anyone noticing. That's why he starts to talk to you at first.

And then, when you let him use it, he falls completely in love because of how kind and charming you are, so naturally he spends more time with you. He worries a lot when he thinks about you having to go to the underworld again and leaving the Devildom because, just like how it happened with Beel, it reminds him of Lilith.

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

𝔻𝕚𝕒𝕧𝕠𝕝𝕠: He was the one with the idea of you going to the Devildom, right? So it's only fair to say that he is already in love with you.

And no, he doesn't fall in love with you because he thinks that it could benefit the relations between the underworld and the Devildom, but because you are the only person that truly understands him.

You becoming the ruler of your kingdom is the same as he became the ruler of the Devildom, so he sees himself in you and immediately feels the connection.

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

𝔹𝕒𝕣𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕤: I literally have no idea what to put here. Did I fail you? Yeah, probably, I'm so sorry. I think, that even if you fall in love with him, he would never go to the underworld because he is stuck in the Devildom, like, Barbs never leaves poor Diavolo alone.

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

𝕊𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕞𝕠𝕟 & 𝕊𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕠𝕟: this is forbidden love. Although Solomon is immortal and a sorcerer, he is still a human, and when a human goes to the underworld, things get messy (for reference, google Orpheus and Eurydice).

Now with Siemon, I'm pretty sure that only Gods can go to the underworld using the river Styx, so again, it is not possible because he is only an angel, like not even an archangel.

��⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉

– all rights reserved © sofiakirstein 2022.  please do not repost, plagiarise, distribute or translate my work on ANY platform

[blxetsi]

modern levi ackerman dating headcanons

lowercase intended !

levi ackerman x gn!reader

- firstly, lets get love language out of the way

- i think his love language would be acts of service

- so like, he'll brew your coffee for you and set out your favourite mug when he goes to the kitchen to make his tea (bc we all know he'd wake up earlier than you 🙄)

- or he'll pick up a muffin from your favourite bakery on his way home

- or if you ask him to remind you to do something later, he's immediately writing it out on a sticky note and sticking it somewhere youd notice

- he notices youre getting low on your favourite moisturizer ? or lipbalm ? he's taking a picture of the packaging and getting it the next time he drives past walmart or smth

- he just does little things that help make your day better

- now i feel like a lot of people say this already, but he is NOT very comfortable with public displays of affection

- its not that he doesnt like it when you touch him, or hold his hand, or kiss his cheek, he just gets flustered and feels like everyone is watching you two

- but one thing he does allow is looping your arms together while you walk, especially in crowded streets

- it doesnt mean he doesnt like being close with you, he just hates doing it public. when youre alone ? hes ALL OVER YOU.

- "will you play with my hair ?"

- "levi im working."

- "okay can you multitask ?" motherfucker 😐

- doesnt matter if hes the big spoon or little spoon, just being close to you is enough.

- also would try and get used to your love language

- if your love language is physical touch hes genuinely surprised by how many times you put his hands on him each day (NOT in a sexual way) like even his mother never touched him as much and he's a momma's boy 😳

- when you wake up your coming out to the kitchen to fill your coffee, but not before kissing the top of his head as you walk past

- then youre guzzling down your coffee like its water before putting it in the sink and walking back, petting his head in the process

- you'll hug him while hes cooking, or brushing his teeth. youre giving him kisses before he leaves and when he comes home, just little small acts of love, but it happens so frequently that levi cant help but notice it

- your love language is verbal affirmations ? youre getting your coffee while saying "goodmorning beautiful"

- "i love yous" are thrown at him a lot, they never fail to make him feel better

- youll compliment this man and he short circuits for a second, quickly gets used to it as time goes on

- also too i think he'd be taller in a modern au, but not very very tall like erwin, im talking 5'7" to 5'9"

- and he's fine with his height, it doesn't bother him that much, he's the average height of a man so what's the big deal ?

- also he really doesnt care about height either. youre shorter than him ? cool, that means he can bend down to give you little forehead kisses. around the same height as him ? awesome, that makes it easier for him to give you a peck on the lips. taller than him ? mf he'll climb you like a tree if he has to. really doesn't care.

- also doesn't have a preferences for body type or anything. he thinks that character is way more important than looks 100% and he'll always find different things about you beautiful. your laugh is weird ? k now he's making you two watch a john mulaney special to so youll laugh. hate your belly and wanna lose weight, he's holding you and telling you to only lose weight if you genuinely want to be "healthier" and not so you get skinny. your acne scars bother you ? he's kissing your cheeks a lot more than usual, but you can't complain. literally Loves Every Part of You

- also i think his family would absolutely ADORE YOU and his friends for that matter

- miss kuchel is pulling you into a hug the first time she sees you, and is so accomodating and sweet. shes genuinely interested in your interests and what you do for a living, and will NOT hesitate to get levi's baby pictures out if you ask.

- his uncle ? he probably wont be there for the family dinner, but then kuchel's gonna call him up like "levi's s/o ?? absolutely spectacular !!" and then hes like "huh maybe i gotta come visit to see the runt and his lover"

- also i think in a modern au, kuchel wouldve gotten really sick when levi is a boy, so kenny would have came home to take care of his sister and try and take care of levi. in the end she got better, and he went back to his own home, but now she requests that he come for at least one family holidy so they can all spend it together

- BUT back to mr. ackerman

- idk what he'd do in modern times, i used to think he'd be a good english professor for a university, but then i saw a headcanon that he'd go into law school and become a lawyer, and honestly ?? it makes sense

- after a long day at work he just wants to come home to you, he'll find you on the couch reading or doing some of your own work, so he'll just slip off his coat and blazer and undo his tie while slipping off his shoes by the door. before plopping his head in your lap and requesting you to play with his hair.

- if you don't live with him hes taking a shower and then immediately calling you asking to come over. if you can ?? great he'll be in bed waiting to be spooned. if not, thats fine, but levi would like to facetime and rant.

- also has the absolute WORST road rage

- "that little prick cut me off !"

- "levi he's taking his driver's test !"

- "so ? i hope that instructor doesn't give the idiot a pass 🙄" and then will immediately honk his horn at the poor kid.

- also wouldnt be a clean freak like in canonverse. his whole "everything has to be spotless" stuff stems from trauma, specifically being left in an apartment with his decaying mother for weeks on end, but since kuchel is alive that never happens

- were things a little hectic during the time she was sick ? sure ! but kenny always tried to tidy up a bit when he saw it was getting to levi.

- levi just likes things to be neat and tidy, he doesnt do a deep clean of his apartment every two weeks, but always makes sure to clean up his messes as soon as they happen

- also doesnt like to fight

- his mom raised him with the idea that communication is key, and always encouraged him to "explain why hes upset" so they could work together to come up with a solution

- its something hes taken with him to adulthood, and even though sometimes he sounds like hes talking to a child when hes trying to get you to "use your words" he really doesnt mean to

- if youre yelling at him he'll stand there like 😐 and wait until youre out of breath so he can say "okay lets talk about this"

- is also very handy

- have a hole in your wall ? hes coming over to fix it

- need a lightbulb changed ? hes got u dont worry

- you need to assemble a piece of furniture ? he glances at the step by step guide once before hes putting it together

- hes so great at that stuff, and you only have kenny to thank

- literally when kenny first came to stay with levi and kuchel when she was sick, the kitchen light went out and he asked levi to screw another lightbulb in, the poor kid stood there like 🤨 and when kenny said "what ? you don't know how to change a fucking lightbulb ?" levi shook his head and said "uncle kenny im seven 😐"

- kenny was APPALLED. and immediately made it his mission to make levi as handy as himself.

- also, dates with him are rlly lowkey.

- he likes being in your company, so staying home and ordering take out is AWESOME in his opinion. sometimes he'll dress up and make a fancy meal with you.

- if you like going to carnivals and stuff, he's reluctant but eventually caves. wins you a lot of the prizes.

- "fuck. this shit is rigged y/n"

- "sorry levi, lets go do something else !"

- "what ? no. give me another dollar im getting you that fucking turtle"

- hange always wants to see you. levi makes it his life mission to keep you away from them as much as possible. not because he doesnt want you to get along with his friends, just because he knows that hange will spill some embarassing secrets from his college days.

- erwin ? hes okay but hes on thin fucking ice.

- also is very gentlemanly. will not only hold the door for you but for everyone. hes waiting in line for his order and someone comes up behind him and asks him to scootch so they can get some napkins ? mf its grabbing a handful himself and handing it to the person, wishing them a nice day with a small smile. hes just like,, a genuinely good person

- his singing voice ? immaculate. will he sing for you ? no.

- he also loves playing board games with you. like chess or checkers. you love playing board games with him and his friends, specifically monopoly. hange makes moblit form an alliance with them. mike is a lone wolf, and erwin and levi are always helping each other out until erwin betrays him. lots of trust is ruined between these game nights, but you literally cant bring yourself to care because its so fun to watch it unfold

this is my first headcanon thingy !! im v excited !! hope u all enjoyed 🤩✨ should i do more headcanons like these ???

- all in all, levi is a cool guy, and a cool bf.

[sims2bellaswan]

pas de deux X [Bruno Bucciaratti x reader|Risotto Nero x reader]

[SFW]

AO3 VERSION

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

You’ve worked your whole life to earn a place in the Rome ballet company, yet everyone seems to work against you.

Between the stress of working to match the other dancers to unforeseen romantic issues, problems just seem to pile up.

You weren’t happy with your outfit. The last one was too casual, but looking in the mirror, a dress felt too formal. Even joggers felt wrong.

Settling on something comfortable and somewhat flattering, you locked your door behind you lethargically. You weren’t necessarily excited for tonight, for no particular reason. You were just nervous. Bruno would be fine and everything will be like it was before all of this.

Taking a deep breath, you began the walk down your apartment stairs.

You had been here more times than you can count on two hands; there was no reason to hesitate at the door. You fully knew you had permission to walk in.

Quietly, you knocked.

No answer.

You knocked louder, pulling back a step. You rung your hands at the hem of your shirt. Maybe you should just leave.

The door opened, warm air pooling into the hall. Bruno smiled at you for a moment before opening the door wider.

Bruno’s kitchen was immaculately perfect, not in the sense of cleanliness, he was a maximalist and avid foodie. Rather, his kitchen, and whole apartment, exuded a feeling of homeliness. Pictures of family and friends, cards, keepsakes from his 21 years hung and perched on walls and shelves. He would be the first to say he is appreciative of sentimental value.

He also had a wonderful sense for interior decorating, something you did not have. So, everytime you’re here, you stand in awe for a moment of how someone’s apartment can look so put together, yet warm.

Heat emanated from the stove. Drawn to it, like a moth to flame, you leaned against the table. Bruno passed you to mind the stove. Your anxiety melted the longer you spent with him. It’s all better.

The two of you are quiet for a moment. Setting a wooden spatula down, Bruno turns to you, smiling. “I’m glad you were able to come.”

Pushing your hair from your face, “I was convinced Risotto would kill me right then and there.”

“Was he angry?” Bruno moved about the kitchen, knowing where everything was. Before you could answer, he hands you a glass of wine.

“Thank you,” You whisper. His hand brushes yours in the transaction. “Not angry, per se, just, ugh,” You sipped, taking a moderately long pause as you collected your thoughts. “He told me not to disappoint him again.” Bruno offered an empathetic smile while you tried to word your thoughts properly. “I just,” You cut yourself off. “Who says something like that?”

Bruno poured himself a glass, about half the amount he gave you. He looked at you, fingers laced between the stem of the glass. “Impolite, to say the least.” There’s a ‘but���, you could feel it coming like a train’s vibration on the tracks. You sipped your glass, waiting for him to continue his sentence. “But,” There it was. “Perhaps, it was a badly worded way of looking out for you.”

You blinked, letting out a curt and quiet laugh. “Don’t romanticize this.” Your words hit more rude than you intended, almost visibly wincing after the words left your wine-stained lips.

“I’m the last person to romanticize him,” finally, he drank. Then, left his glass on the counter to finish off the pan of food. Pressing further weight on the table, you watched him work. “What I mean is,” He paused for a moment to focus on moving the meal from pan to plate. “Carbonara.” He states, handing you a plate and fork.

You smile, moving to the chair beside you. He sat opposite of you, placing his plate down first. “You were saying?”

He stretches to grab his glass from the counter. “You have been stressed lately,” he started, “noticeably so.” You bit your inner cheek. “Perhaps, working at the company has become more than you can chew.”

You wanted to retort, wanted to spit back that he was the reason you were stressed today. You didn’t, but you certainly wanted to. Honestly, you would rather die than have another argument with Bruno over this ballet master situation. So, you simply replied, “You think so?”

He hummed, agreeing with you as he began to eat. “You should take the season off.”

Blinking once and pulling back from the table in surprise, you finished your wine. “That's very funny, Bruno, but I need a serious solution.” The fork now laid motionless in your hand, too focused on the conversation at hand to bother with the meal.

“I know it's hard to hear,” He finished off what would be a comforting sentiment with something that was half your name, half a sigh. It hurt your heart in a way. “But, I only want what’s best for you.”

You must have looked at him like he was crazy because he shook his head, downtrodden.

“It’s your decision, but please keep my advice in mind.”

You needed to change the subject, further prying would lead to the same argument as before. Sighing and pulling your fork from the plate, you hoped it would show your discomfort with the current topic if you ate instead of replying.

The dinner was silent now.

Which, you hated. This was supposed to fix things and it seemed it was only making things worse. Bruno didn’t look at you, not until you accidentally made eye contact. “Sorry.” Bruno kept a tight breath, “I invited you to apologize and we are back to square one.” His free hand moved to massage the bridge of his nose. “Can we start over?”

You smiled, almost apologetically. “Yeah,” your voice gives an air of exasperation. “Yeah, we can.” A big part of your mind was glad he felt the same way, but something nagged that he wasn’t being as genuine as you’d hoped. Your paranoid thoughts would not get the better of you.

And, he smiled in return. A full, warm beam that made it seem like his face was the reason smiles were invented. “I’m glad you agreed to come.”

You stood to pour yourself a second glass, fuller than what he had poured the first time. “Please, I’m glad you invited me.” You struggled, for a moment, to put together the words. Sipping gently once, then twice, you returned to your seat. “You’re an excellent chef, I’d never pass up the chance to eat your cooking.”

His laugh gently tumbled from his lips, “You’re more than aware that you’re always welcome here.” Bruno stayed in his seat as he watched you move about his kitchen, then return to yours. Quiet eyes transfixed on your movements as if he were watching you dance.

The pleasantries continued through the dinner. You felt the weight of anxiety lift off your chest as the two of you calmed down. Your nerves dulled from wine and carbs, you poured a third glass after dinner. Bruno nursed his second.

The sun began to set behind you, the curtained windows letting in slivers of golden light. Reflections shimmer on the table, over empty plates and stained glasses. It casted it’s aureate glow over the kitchen, making you feel warmer as the evening turned into night. Stars found their places in the sky, twinkling curiously, and watched the two of you get up from the table. Below the apartment, in the street, vendors made their final sales, while mothers shouted for their children to come inside.

Between you and Bruno, there could not have been a softer room in the world.

You convened at the counter, by the sink. Bruno leaned his weight against, while you stood aside. Dishes already stashed within the basin, the idle chat between you both carried on.

You laughed over your glass, a comfortable silence falling over the two of you. The distance between you had closed a half glass ago. Your head leaned precariously on his shoulder, only tipping up slightly to drink from your glass.

Your head was swimming, but thankfully didn’t hurt. “It’s getting late, Bruno.” Your words faded into a smile, “I should head back.”

His hand met yours and laced itself between your fingers, as he considered his next words carefully. “You’ve had too much to drink, cara mia.” His voice was so low it was near a whisper. “Stay the night.”

His hand in yours emanated heat. Your face felt just as hot, the alcohol contributing only in part to the rouge that dusted your cheeks. “I don’t want to intrude.” Continuously, your slurred words trailed off. The train of thought in your brain was constantly derailed by every moment in Bruno’s affection.

Above you, you felt his head turn towards your own, gently finding a place to lean into your hair. “For my peace of mind?”

You contemplated, as best you could in your inebriation, before you nodded softly.

Again, that silence fell over you. His hand left yours, leaving a cold space that you longed to be filled again. His elegant fingers tilted your chin up, finding your visage and keeping it where he could see.

There was a moment where you weren't sure what was happening. Your heart beat harder than a war drum, pounded against the wall of your ribcage and threatened to escape out your throat. Up until you taste wine on your lips again, do you have less than inkling of what Bruno has planned.

Your eyes fluttered shut, brain and body melting into Bruno’s touch. He wasted not a moment when the kiss broke, guiding your woozy form to the bedroom.

[haloud]

an overture bold and beyond

for the Roswell New Mexico Big Bang (@rnmbb)

[AO3 link]

Jesse is dead, and Alex is left standing in the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions left behind by the events of Crashdown and the days leading up to it. With the dust settled, Alex and Michael pick through the debris--they've argued many times before, but the last one, in Michael's workshop, lingers over them, demanding...something, demanding to be seen, to be spoken, to be soothed. Through three conversations, they search for an understanding they've never found before, one that brings them closer together. (An episode 2x10 fix-it fic)

with art by @bisexualalienblast!

1.

The shed is as it always was and at the same time something else entirely. Small and dusty, smelling of wood, at night it would throw weird, spiked shadows from the tools and trophies adorning the walls, but during the day the light is pale yellow and pleasant against the pine. Ten years of light and absence have faded the posters that still shroud the walls. The floor is clean and swept and no amount of scalded memory could make Alex recall exactly where the blood used to be.

Dad is dead, and that means there is a life’s worth of unloading and sorting and dispersing to do of the things he possessed and left a mark on, and Greg has done enough, which means it falls to Alex. And it’s only fitting that the shed go first.

Still, where to begin? Should he get a dumpster for the antlers or a box to collect the tools for donation? Should he be cold and unfeeling, or should he pore over the cracks of his soul and salvage some sentimentality, some silver lining for the toolbox that built his treehouse, or the low bench that served as his bed on the safe and hidden nights, or.

For so long, this tiny, old, unused building loomed so large in his mind it blotted out any light that could shine on anything else. And then, through sheer stubbornness, he told himself it was just a building with such intensity that now, here, with the boogeyman six feet deep for good, it’s shocking all over again to find out that he was right.

It’s just a building. There are cobwebs so thick one corner is entirely grayish-white. The windows are grimy; the floorboards creak. Alex stands in the middle with his hands in his pockets. Somehow, he always thought there would be more screaming, like the soft and sweet-smelling pine might have captured the echo. It’s almost as unsettling as seeing a ghost, to stand at the center of his nightmares and not be haunted at all.

Greg would have come out here with him if he’d asked—but he didn’t ask. Greg would have hovered, looked at him all full of concern, like he thought Alex was being some sort of martyr for tackling this alone. Hell, maybe Alex thought that too, just a bit. Maybe that’s why it’s so bizarre to stand here and be...fine.

He’s fine. He’s too fine. He’s so weirdly, blissfully, mind-numbingly fine. 

No grief. No celebration. Just a fineness so complete and immaculate it could be mistaken for emptiness if his head were a little clearer. 

Alex takes in a deep, woodsy breath and blows it out slowly, making dust motes scatter and dance.

He left the door open intentionally, to hear if Greg shouted for him, for a quick escape, just in case, for a breath of fresh air. When a shadow falls across it Alex freezes, braces for impact, until he jerks his head up and sees the reason.

“Hey,” Michael says. A smile flickers across his face and then it’s gone, and Alex breathes through the blow of it.

“Hey.”

A beat passes. Alex chews on the inside of his cheek. They’ve been alone together once since their fight, and that was a hostage situation.

“Maria made me bring food over. I gave it to Gregory. Seems to be holding up okay.”

Was that true? That Maria made him? Or was it a cover, a thin, defensive veneer protecting him from—well, if he was really just here on an errand of respectability at the behest of someone more respectable, he could have—it would have been easy, the easiest thing in the world, to leave the food and slip back out without Alex ever having even known he was there.

Yet here he is, having sought Alex out. Should Alex let himself hope that this means something, that everything they were building, all closeness and understanding, wasn’t set aflame and burned to ashes in a furious, impulsive whirlwind?

He’s here. It’s something.

Alex has been practicing, since that last night they were alone together, since the bunker. He had a lot of time to think and could only hum the melody he found for his song so many times. So he’s been practicing what he’d say next time he saw Michael, what he’d say to make it right. To stretch out an open hand and not snatch it back, to allow himself to be reached for and not snap at it, all teeth. It all feels like a ridiculous fantasy now, looking at Michael’s quiet, expressionless face. He’s never known what to say. Maybe he never will.

Clearing his throat, Alex says, “Yeah, he’s, uh, made his peace, I guess. Still, we’re keeping each other company for now. How’s Maria doing?”

“Hanging in there. If it wasn’t for Liz…” Michael swallows and glances away.

“Yeah,” Alex replies hoarsely. Yeah. If it wasn’t for Liz, Flint’s body count would be up by one, and it would be Alex’s fault. Should have secured him better. Should have made sure there wasn’t a second key. Should have warned Charlie instead of going out the back. Shouldn’t have been distracted by his father. Should do something to stop him from acting again. Disaster struck. Justice done. Should…

“Hey. Alex,” Michael says, and Alex snaps out of his head to see him hovering closer, concern all over his face.

“Just,” Alex waves his hand, waves him off. “Just thinking about where we’d be without Liz. Not a pretty picture.”

“Yeah.”

Michael retreats just a pace or two back to the door. For a moment, Alex jolts like he could stop him from leaving, but then Michael turns to talk again.

“And…how are you?”

“What?”

“I mean. I’m not sad the bastard’s dead, but.” Michael leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. “I’m not gonna break out the champagne until I know it’s cool with you, I guess.”

“Ha. I…I think the feeling’s a little more ‘lazy Sunday’ than ‘wild party.’”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like…I can breathe easier now. I’m not ready to celebrate, I just want to drink it in, you know?”

“Sure. We can make it mimosas instead.”

At that, Alex laughs, a short and underused thing. He runs out of stamina quickly. Part of him aches to invite Michael in, to sit beside him on the bench and talk about all the things they aren’t saying. But how would Michael take that? Here, now? Alex needs more time to consider all the pieces on the board.

“And physically?” Michael steps back toward him, nearly pacing for the number of times he’s walked those three feet of floor. He touches his own forehead where Alex is cut in two jerky movements, one forward, one up. “No concussion or anything?”

Alex shakes his head. “Clean bill of health.”

“Good. That’s good.”

The awkwardness dances between them like the dust does, and Alex measures his breaths to keep calm. The light should make things easier; it couldn’t be more different from the dark underground of Michael’s workshop, but the tension between them is the same.

“You were right,” Alex blurts.

“I should go,” Michael blurts at the same time, and then the two of them are frozen again until Alex breaks the ice.

“No, don’t. Please. I didn’t get a chance to really say this when you found me, but I need to.”

Michael hesitates. Alex holds his breath. But then Michael sighs, shoulders lifting and falling, and nods.

Bracing himself, Alex continues.

“You were right.”

Michael makes another aborted noise of protest, but Alex barrels on.

“My father was lying and manipulating the way he always has, and I was so ready to think that he was defeated that I stopped trying to see through him. I wanted to be right so badly that I convinced myself I was, and I hurt you, and I could have hurt so many more people if Liz hadn’t been able to—if Isobel wasn’t there to hold off the fire—”

His voice falters and he closes his eyes, then forces them open. No hiding.

Michael works his jaw for a minute or so like he might respond, might get angry, but he takes so long to start talking Alex almost continues his speech.

But then Michael says, “You don’t have to do this. You’ve got no obligation to make me feel better or whatever. We both had a hand in making bombs this weekend, and I’m the one who knew what he was doing.”

“For me. You made a bomb for me.”

Michael levels him with a golden look.

“Yeah. I did.”

“To save me. And maybe I didn’t know what my father would use that piece for, but it was never going to be anything good. I just wanted answers, it didn’t have to be life or death. I’m—sorry.”

Alex hates apologies. Always has. After growing up the way he did, they always felt like a test, a test of his own commitment to forgiveness, to the value he chose for himself, the value his father never would have tried to beat into him. Or like an exertion of that same pressure on someone else, a desperate, pathetic cry for acceptance, for absolution.

And apologies were always particularly difficult between the two of them. Like each one granted might rip the bandage off all the old wounds that were never treated at all. But it was time, long past time, however, that they began to face these things.

Michael sucks in a breath and blows it back out in a huge sigh.

“Look,” he says. “It doesn’t make me feel any better to listen to you beat yourself up, okay? It’s not like you were entirely wrong; it’s not like I was making any strong effort to see things from your perspective. I…”

Michael flexes his left hand, then shoves it in his pocket, and another wave of guilt drags at Alex like quicksand. He can’t look away from that pocket even as Michael starts talking again.

“I still don’t understand. Why you would want him to change, why you would want anything from him after all this time and…everything. But there’s a lot I don’t get about family. And I probably would have told you giving up the piece was a bad idea no matter what, but I shouldn’t have to understand everything perfectly to listen when you’re telling me something’s important to you. I’ve been talking to Maria…” He pauses.

“It’s okay,” Alex prompts. It’s been months; there’s no point in pretending like what’s happening isn’t happening.

It would be easier if any of their endings felt like the end. If he could shake off the certainty of old habit that time would pass and gravity would bring them back together. Michael and Maria have a good thing. Alex is taking steps, trying new things. And yet…

Neither of them would ever say it. They’ll both push it to the back of their minds, paper over longing with something new.

Yet.

Michael says, “Maria isn’t sure if suppressing her powers her entire life is what she wants. And I feel like an asshole because we both know that I’m asking her to do something I might not be able to do myself in her shoes. So I’m trying to understand where she’s coming from, no matter how much it hurts. I’m putting in the work. In every part of my life, okay?”

Alex nods, not knowing what to say.

And Michael carries on, like he’s trying to lighten the mood.  “Anyway, I figure I might at least try and earn those second chances you keep giving me, right?”

His tone is light and weightless, but it sends Alex’s heart plummeting into his stomach.

“What does that mean?” He asks, even though he already knows.

Michael shrugs. “Look, I should really get back to the hospital. Text me if anything comes up, okay?”

“Michael!”

“What, Alex?”

His voice spikes, then his lips press together in a harsh line, but Alex doesn’t wait for any attempt at an apology. No amount of yelling ever made him scared of Michael.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “And it may be out of line for me to say this outright. But. You’re nothing like my father. Never have been. Giving you second chances—I mean, letting anyone make mistakes and work past them—it’s nothing you have to earn any more than, I mean, I have to earn them, which isn’t to say I don’t know I have things to work on—”

“Alex, stop.”

Michael mercy-kills his rambling, and Alex inhales deeply and bobs his head once in a nod, and Michael drops his eyes to the floor.

“Gonna tell you something I’ve never said to someone who wasn’t comatose, so, uh. Be honored, or something.”

Alex nods to tell him to go on, even if Michael can’t see it.

“Look, I know you know what it’s like to grow up under shitty circumstances, so I won’t waste your time getting into it, but. Growin’ up, and then even when I was older, in high school and after, all my relationships had always been…transactional. Except you never saw the price tag and you just had to guess.”

A soft noise escapes Alex’s mouth, and Michael glances up then lets his eyes slide away again. Alex doesn’t say a word to interrupt him. Alex is tense with a strange mix, gratitude and regret at how little he knew, how little he still knows, about how Michael the boy makes up Michael the man, and how little Michael knows in return. How much he still has to learn. 

All he wants is for them to be in each other’s lives to keep that learning going. But how to say that in a way that isn’t begging Michael to be pinned down by him? 

Michael continues, “That’s why I didn’t believe you at first when you said people could just be nice for no reason. You were the first person who showed me there was another way, and then after you, I…stopped believing in it again. Partially ‘cause I knew I’d fucked up with you, so I didn’t deserve you anymore. That’s a kid’s way of thinking at it, but yeah. With Max and Iz, with Sanders, with Maria, and yeah, with you, trading favors is what I default to, and I’m trying to stop thinkin’ of it like that. I am. But trying to earn things, people, second chances...it’s the kind of habit that’s stubborn to break.”

“I’m trying, too.” Alex measures his breath again and wonders if Michael can tell he’s doing it, how obvious he is. Does he owe Michael at least as much vulnerability and courage as that took, or is that transactional thinking too? “I’m trying to remember that my morality isn’t always universal. I thought I was doing what was right, and in some ways I was, but I was acting in a world where everyone thinks exactly like myself, and that’s just not the real one.”

Michael stands up a little, then. His eyes sharpen. Alex doesn’t know what he’s going to say, so he keeps talking.

“I subsumed my moral compass in work, in mission for so long, that the second I started recapturing it…I lost sight of so many other things.”

“No. No, Alex,” Michael says firmly. Outside, the sun is beginning to set, the light deepening, the blurriness of early dusk. It smudges Michael’s edges; it softens him. It’s reminiscent of how he looks at dawn, a sight Alex may never see again, and his chest aches. And he aches for the fine, furious tremble, the certainty in that fixed jaw.

“Yes,” Alex disagrees. “Your faith in me is…” So many words are so loaded. Unearned? Undeserved? “It’s, um, an honor. But…I think I know who I am now. And I’m learning more every day.”

He winces as his own cheesiness, but Michael just softens, slouching back against the door, a flicker of a smile on his face.

The light is truly dying, now, and Alex looks around the shed. He didn’t get anything done he intended to tonight, but it can wait for another day.

He looks back at Michael and asks, “Is it hard for you? Being here again. I should have asked earlier, I…”

His voice dies off as Michael takes a step inside, looking all around himself before his eyes settle on Alex again. He’d stayed so close to the doorway and the open air the whole time they were talking. Inside, with the broad shoulders and strong hands that had been budding and awkward on his seventeen year old self, he takes up so much room there’s none left for the last of the ghosts.

“I’m okay,” Michael says. “He’s gone. Never gonna hurt me again. Never gonna hurt you again.”

“I know it’s just a building, but it seems like it should be more. It was the only place I felt safe, and then in one moment he tore that away. It’s hard to process that someone like that is just…gone. You know he used to tell us all about how his grandfather built this place with his own two hands? I just…”

Michael looks at him, then, and it’s the same like the shed is the same. Ten years of safety, ten years of hiding and neglect. He looks at him like he always has, the careful, creative study of men who named constellations.

He has a hammer in his hands. He holds it out to Alex handle-first.

“Yeah. This place sucks.”

2

Michael looks like shit. His eyes are ringed with purple shadows, both from sitting by Maria’s bed and from the sleepless nights present and future, his hair rough from where he’s been running his hands through it. Isobel rests a hand in the crook of his arm, close enough to him that he can physically feel her comfort. If it were Alex, he’d chafe at the pity, but at the same time he’d do anything to be in Isobel’s place, to be allowed that closeness, to be that part of Michael’s life where he knew how to provide any comfort but silent presence.

Isobel, however, doesn’t stick around long after they read Tripp’s journal, leaving them with a tousle of Michael’s hair. They’re left to the bustle of a busy diner, but the world seems to shrink all the same. Alex fiddles with the loose vinyl strings at the edge of the booth and searches for the right thing to say.

“So do you think they were? Cosmic?” He asks, watching the cover of the journal like it could tell him anything more than it already has.

“Does it matter? They’re both dead.”

“I. Yeah. They are,” Alex says, then leans back in the booth and lets out a carefully measured sigh, working his fingertips into the muscle of his right thigh, hoping to ease the persistent ache.

His head hurts, too, and he closes his eyes to give himself a break from the pressure and strain behind them. It blots out the journal in front of him. It blots out Michael’s weary, troubled face; it blots out his strong, whole hands folded on the table.

Tripp must have closed his eyes too. For decades, as the woman he loved was tortured and imprisoned and experimented on and left to die, to die in front of her son’s screaming eyes as Alex held him back from joining her.

When he opens his eyes again, he almost expects Michael to be gone, but he isn’t.

“How are you holding up?” Alex asks, tentatively. His hand inches across the tabletop like he might take Michael’s, soothe him where he’s begun picking at the skin around his nails, but he forces it back before Michael even notices his approach.

“Fine. I’m…ha.” Michael shakes his head. “Gotta be fine, right? Been here before.”

“Michael…”

“It’s true.”

“I know.”

Alex doesn’t apologize. It wouldn’t mean anything anyway, not here and now with all that’s gone between them. Michael’s eyes flicker up to him as if checking his reaction; his shoulders curl inward, making himself small.

“Don’t know why I thought this time would be different. But now I know, I guess. Common denominator. Should’ve already known, but I’m a dumbass like that.”

“No, you’re not, you’re—”

Michael ruthlessly cuts him off. “Shouldn’t you be asking how Maria is, anyway? I thought you were her friend.”

Alex blinks at him, cocks his head. But it doesn’t take a genius, or an expert in Michael Guerin, to see that for the deflection that it is.

He has been to the hospital to see Maria, plenty of times. It’s basically only hospitalization that’s kept him from bringing it up, from asking what she’s thinking. Michael and he are here, now, only feet between them once again like the feet between them in the tiny shed as they tore it down around them. No closer. Alex wants to get closer, but denial is the reliable companion comfort is not. So Alex focuses on his body and filling it, staying within it, staying present, while Michael bleeds the love of two people and ten years and one into the space between them, walking wounded.

“I am, but I’m your friend too. And to hear her tell it, she’s the one who broke up with you. So I think my priorities are okay for now.”

“Oh, we’re friends now, are we?”

That one hurts, but Alex just shrugs. It’s true that friends might not be the right word for what they are to each other. What they are has to be a word that doesn’t quite exist, at least not in the only language either of them knows how to speak. If Alex lingers too long on the potential of the languages either of them could know if it weren’t for the confluence of violence and neglect, he would be lost.

Michael flattens his palms and leans over. “Nothing to say? Really?”

Alex replies, “I don’t want to fight again.”

“Why?” Michael snaps. “Because you don’t want anything from me right now?”

At that, Alex can’t help but flinch, muscles locked up and frozen like a wolf inches from the teeth of a trap, and Michael flinches as well.

“I—I didn’t mean that. I—” Michael shakes his head. His face twists into something awful, something grieving, something inward. He rocks back, muted colors all but disappearing against the bright vinyl cushion behind him. God, Alex just wants to touch him. A hand on his shoulder, a hand on his hand. It’s the only way they’ve ever been able to communicate. But just because it’s familiar doesn’t mean it’s enough.

“No, you’re right,” Alex reassures. “You’re right. In your lab, I was wrong to come at you like that, and not just that, I was completely out of line not taking no for an answer—”

“No, Alex, no. You might have been wrong about your father changing, but we already talked about this, and I should—I should be able to control myself by now.”

A prickle of unease trickles cold across the back of Alex’s neck. He lowers his voice, though it’s probably too late to prevent any eavesdropping. “What do you mean? Control yourself? Michael, you’re one of the most controlled people I know. I hate that you’ve had to be, but from what you’ve said, the control you have over your powers is amazing. Admirable.”

Michael barks out a dry laugh. “My powers. But it’s more than that, it’s always been. You know that better than anyone; you said it yourself, and you were right. Fucking wasting my life, right? And now here I am, wasting this chance to be there for you because I can’t just get over some hurt feelings.”

There for him. Michael is the one with the freshly broken heart, and he’s coming down on himself for not comforting Alex about the death of a great-uncle he never met, a great-uncle who abandoned his mother when she needed him. A great-uncle who should have died somewhere his brother never could have buried him on family land, should have died where he stood, like Alex would, like Alex would if it was Michael, if it was his—

Alex shakes his head frantically at that, at Michael’s cold shutting down of his own pain as just hurt feelings. What a screw-up. Michael isn’t perfect either, but Alex was never taught to pull punches, neither with fists nor with words.

“Michael, do you want to know why I said those things to you last time we fought?” 

“Because I wasn’t listening! ‘Cause you were pissed at me, I don’t know—”

“Because the change in my father had me confused and scared, and I was floundering for control.”

Michael opens his mouth, eyebrows scrunching together like he’s ready to argue, but Alex barrels on, staring straight into Michael’s eyes, knowing in his core that Michael isn’t going to look away from him.

“I thought that piece could be leveraged against him, and I didn’t care how you felt about it. I was hurting, and I took it out on you because you were an easy target. A safe target. I know in every part of my being that you would never hurt me.”

“No!” Michael protests.

“So when I tell you some garbage about you not deserving my faith in you, it’s gospel, but when I tell you I was wrong, it’s too much?” Alex demands.

To that, Michael has no answer. His mouth falls open, but nothing comes out, so it snaps shut again and he shakes his head.

“I’m the last person who’s gonna get on your case for not watching your mouth when you’re pissed,” he says with a casual shrug.

The ache in Alex’s thigh has radiated all the way up into his hips and lower back. In the kitchen, something clatters to the ground, the sound bringing the setting back in harsh relief, the very public diner loud and living all around them. Michael takes notice too, leaning back self-consciously, pulling his jacket tighter around himself.

Alex doesn’t know how to argue anymore; he knows he doesn’t want to. He can’t undo a lifetime of evidence built up inside Michael that he’s worthless with a few pretty words, no more than Michael could do for him over ten years. Trying is how they got here, at least in part. A good strategist knows when to retreat and try again another day.

Michael hasn’t said anything more, hasn’t probed farther for a fight, so sensing they’re done here, Alex takes the journal from the table to put it in his jacket pocket. But when his fingers touch leather something about the sensation makes him stop.

“Do…do you want to take it? I mean, he wrote about your mom, I…” He swallows, and continues, “I can’t give any part of her back to you, but if it gives you any comfort at all to read about her…”

“He was your ancestor. A Manes man. One who wasn’t a bloodthirsty bag of dicks. You should give it back to Maria or keep it if she doesn’t want it,” Michael says gruffly.

Not bloodthirsty, perhaps, but Alex is less sure that he was any sort of hero or any sort of comfort to Alex now. Tripp’s dog tags hang around his neck, warmed to the temperature of his skin but still palpably there, the feeling strange in a way his own never were. A reminder of what can happen if you believe in something but fail to act upon it.

“Yeah, it belongs to the Delucas. I wish Patricia had gotten to read it. I don’t know why Tripp didn’t...”

“And we never will. I’ll leave returning it to you. Can’t imagine Maria’s eager to see me at the moment.”

“You might be surprised.”

Michael just shrugs again and slides out of the booth, shoving his hands in his pockets when he stands.

Alex does a calculus at this point grown familiar, of whether he should nurse his drink for a little while longer so Michael doesn’t see how hard it is for him to stand, how painful to walk. So Michael doesn’t see him as weak. So they don’t have to have the awkward moment where Michael drives off while Alex calls an Uber or something because he walked here from the coffeeshop when Michael and Isobel texted him and now he can’t make the return trip. So—

“I got street parking,” Michael says.

“What?”

“My car’s right outside. Let me give you a lift home? We can stop by and grab whatever you need from your car and I’ll come back and get it, give it a tow or something.”

His eyes flick to Alex’s, briefly, then dance away. He doesn’t say it out loud, that he’s been able to notice that Alex is hurting.

“Or you can call Greg or Forrest or Kyle or something and I’ll get out of your hair,” he continues. “I know you don’t need my help—”

Alex grabs his wrist. He gets half cuff, half skin.

“Michael. I’d appreciate it, actually.”

The smile he gets is a half-bitten thing, brighter than the sun itself.

The sun sets in their eyes as they turn onto Alex’s street, and after ten minutes of silence, Michael speaks.

“I was out of line, spoiling for a fight with you back there. I won’t do it again.”

Alex doesn’t need to look at him to know that he’s golden, pure gold.

“We’re both on the remedial track for emotions and handling conflict. I understand, Michael.” He curls his fingers around the truck’s bench seat like he did when he was seventeen and they couldn’t hold hands in public. He can almost imagine there are grooves there that fit just him. “It isn’t second chances, or third, or fourth. It’s proof we’re learning how to make mistakes without ending the whole world over it.”

If he stole some of that from his therapist, so be it. 

Michael’s voice is a little thick when he replies.

“That...that sounds pretty good to me.”

When they pull up to Alex’s driveway, he doesn’t get out right away, though he picks up his crutch and settles it over his lap, partially for a quick escape if he loses his nerve, partially for something to do with his hands.

Alex watches the lavender-gold sky and says, “It’s okay, you know. To be angry. I know I said the opposite, before, but…” he swallows harshly. “But it was hypocritical, and I regret it, and.” Horribly, tears prick at his eyes, but he has to get through this. “You deserve to feel safe. I don’t want to make you feel unsafe, ever. I walk around saying I’m doing the opposite like I deserve some kind of medal, but then I attack you, and I put you in danger—”

He chances a glance Michael’s way, only for the crack in his heart to widen at his hunched, defensive posture, curled around the steering wheel like it’s a shield to protect him where he’s most vulnerable.

Michael says, “You were the first person. The only person. Who ever made me feel safe. Who ever cared enough to make sure I had a place to go even if I didn’t trust you or if I pushed back on it. Who didn’t ask anything in return. We share a lot of the same pain from those days. But I don’t know if you know what that meant to me. I don’t know if you know how fucking hard it is for me to hear you talk like this now. I don’t know what you want from me.”

Horror creeps in at the edges of Alex’s vision. His lips are numb, but they still form, “Michael, you...you haven’t thought that you owe me for that for all these years, right? Please, please tell me you haven’t…”

“No! God, no.”

Michael looks at him, the sunlight turning his eyes to honey. His mouth is chapped, but it just makes Alex want to feel that roughness with his thumb, cup his jaw and feel the stubble against his fingertips. 

Those instincts may never go away, but that doesn’t mean they have to suffer, even if they can never make being in love good for the both of them. A life where their jagged edges align in the way only they can for each other, where they find that perfect angle where nothing, nothing hurts at all when they sit beside each other...that’s all they need. 

Michael turns away before he says anything more. The sun doesn’t turn, though, just limns his eyelashes in gold, casts his cheekbones in dramatic shadow, and Alex lets out a soft sigh from somewhere deep in his soul that Michael can be, from every angle, this unchanged.

“I don’t want to owe anyone anything. I’m tired of it,” Michael says, voice low and rough. “And I found out recently that some people in my life I thought I was racking up debt to I’d die without repaying had wiped my slate clean long ago. I can be wrong about stuff sometimes. I’m pretty smart, but I’m a big boy.” 

He flashes a quick morning-mist smile, eyes quirking sideways to look at Alex as he does it, and Alex smiles back, shoulders dropping as some tension leaves him. Michael’s eyes flick down and away before he speaks again.

“But where do we go from here? You and me, I mean. We keep tripping over ourselves to make up for the last fight out of too many to count in our lives, but there’s gonna be an after, too. What’s that look like for us?”

Alex rests his hand on the bench seat between them, just so it’s there, in case Michael wants to take it. And Michael glances down, and the apple of his throat bobs, but his hand doesn’t inch any closer.

That’s okay.

“Do you want to come inside?” Alex asks.

“Huh?”

“Friends hang out, right? No starting over. Let’s start from right here. Still got a guitar you can use, if you’re into that. Or we can crack open some beers and watch Netflix or something. Anything you want.”

Michael faces him for real for the first time, his generous mouth parted in shock, but then his face goes soft.

“Sure, yeah. I’d like that.”

 3

Alex meets Michael’s eyes from across a crowded room. His cultural knowledge suffered significantly while he was active duty, but throughout his life he’s watched enough rom-coms curled up on the carpet with Liz, Rosa, and Maria to know how that’s supposed to feel, and to know now that the movies never did the feeling justice. Michael slowly removes his hat, and Alex’s heart swells so much he can hardly stand it.

And then Michael is gone, somewhere and sometime before Alex has lanced himself of all the words that have built up inside his skull, pounding against his temples, spilling out his eyes and ears and mouth. Only Isobel remains, and she gives him a sympathetic look and two thumbs up, whatever that means.

Well, not just Isobel. Greg is here, and Forrest, and some coworkers Alex turned Maria’s way to keep traffic up at the bar. But the space Michael left is vast and empty, and for all Alex didn’t ask him to come, it hurts a little like rejection would have hurt if he had asked and Michael told him no or hated the song.

At least he can hope that Michael heard something of what he’s trying to say and will carry that with him, whatever happens next.

The song ends. His fingers stutter and linger over the keys; the spell shatters around him and the world rushes back in with applause. Forrest beams at him from the front row, and he smiles back a little awkwardly. Being so vulnerable so publicly…not really his thing. But maybe not all bad, not when it brings tears to his brother’s eyes and he kisses a man in the open, his father’s voice drowned out by ivories and drunkards and his own heartbeat echoing off his bones.

Forrest squeezes his hips and smiles up at him as the next person takes the stage and the night goes on around them. “I’m proud of you,” he says, just for the two of them to hear. “How do you feel?”

“I feel…good.”

He does. He does feel good, in a way that’s refreshingly distinct from the haze of okay he’s been drifting in for weeks.

“Buy you a drink?” Forrest offers, raising his eyebrows, hooking his thumb back at the bar. Maria is still at home resting, so she isn’t there to support and/or lightly judge him.

“Uh…”

Say yes. He probably should, right? Just see what it’s like dating someone in the open. But would it be fair to use Forrest like that, as an experiment?

“…Can I take a rain check? This,” he gestures back at the stage, “Was kind of a lot for me, believe it or not, so I’m not in a chatty mood. Is that okay?”

Forrest’s smile doesn’t budge. “Okay, man, sure. See ya around.” And he heads to the bar alone.

Alex’s shoulders drop, feeling a little disappointed, feeling a little like he isn’t as disappointed as he should be. Hands in his pockets, he makes his way over to the door, only to stop short when he sees Kyle at a table in the back. Sheepishly, Kyle lifts his beer at him in a salute—but that isn’t an explanation, so Alex beelines for him anyway.

“I thought you hated this shit,” he says mildly, without preamble.

“Oh, I do. The second someone starts in on some amateur poetry, I’m out. But I was just being a dick earlier, and that’s not what I do these days so…”

“Apology accepted.” 

Alex glances around before sliding in across from Kyle. It’ll get awkward if Forrest sees him, but oh well.

“Hell of a performance,” Kyle says, going to flag down a waiter until Alex stops him.

“I’m not sticking around for long. But, uh, thanks.”

Kyle takes another long pull of his beer, and Alex raises an eyebrow at him.

He says, “You know, if I was so bad you have to drink to forget, you can just say so. My delicate feelings have been through worse, actually.”

“Ha! No, it’s…” Kyle trails off, staring at his beer instead of anywhere near Alex. “Eh. It’s part of the deal, but sometimes it still sucks to get slapped with reality. No matter how much you change, the people you’ve hurt don’t have to forgive you.”

“I…”

“No, don’t apologize. I get it. I was a big part of the reason you never would have sung that song in this town without the people that support you now. It’s okay that you still hesitate sometimes about me. Just, you know,” he shrugs with a small smile. “Sometimes I’m gonna drink about it.”

Alex leans across the table. “Kyle. You’re a good man. And my friend. Okay?”

Kyle’s shoulders drop an inch or so, and his face shifts with a more genuine, soft smile. “Okay.” Then he turns serious again, and continues, “But you know it’s going to be the same for Flint, right? First, that you can’t redeem someone who has no remorse—I had to make my own choice to be a better guy, to live by a better code, and no one could have done that for me. Second, that even if he does make that choice, the people he’s hurt have no obligation to forgive him. Michael has no obligation to forgive him, and you can’t force him to. You have to make peace with that now, before you start down this road.”

“I know. But thank you, for the reminder.” Alex lets out a long breath. “I don’t know if I can forgive Flint. But he’s a part of my father’s legacy, too. I can’t undo all the harm, but if I can reduce any harm in the future, if I can even do that much…”

“I wish you luck. But, man, just...don’t try and bear too many other people’s sins, okay? You’re not responsible for what Flint does. You gotta look out for yourself, too, you know.”

“Thanks,” Alex says. What else is there to say? He might disagree with Kyle both on what makes someone responsible and also the degree to which he’s already acting in his own self-interest. A truly selfless person would focus on what’s already within control in order to do the most good, not on trying to control everything they could. But if Alex doesn’t know how to live with himself and his choices at this point, he’s already lost. There’s a certain comfort and strength in that.

“Any time,” Kyle replies, saluting him again.

Alex leaves the table and leaves Kyle to it, making for the door and for fresh air. He’ll go home and have a beer there, maybe. Look at his keyboard and think of other songs to write, now that he’s gotten Michael’s song out of his skull.

Like all songs won’t be about Michael, somehow, always. 

That thought might have been depressing six months ago, six years ago, in the middle of all the missing they’ve done. But now Alex lets the nostalgia wash over him, welcomes it as an old friend. As a part of him, natural, not something that needs to be fixed or cut away. Every song is about Michael because Michael is a part of him. Nothing wrong with that, no matter how their relationship keeps changing, even if Alex never gets what he wants. He can live with that.

He steps out onto the Pony’s empty patio. Most likely everyone is either still inside watching other performers go on or has already left in disgust at the whole affair. The glow of the string bulbs softens the night, turns the bar into a welcoming place, an oasis of light, makes it hard to take that last step off the porch and into the parking lot. That’s probably the idea. Maria’s savvy like that. 

According to Max, Michael helped her hang these a few years back, and somehow he always comes up with replacement bulbs when they’re needed, always knows just what the fix is. It’s so easy to imagine him up on a ladder, deft hands weaving the cords around the wooden lattice, winding a perfect web, not too bright or harsh, just right. Alex sighs, and if it’s overly wistful, well, that’s a secret between him and the night.

“Everything okay?”

Alex jerks around at that voice. He’s heard it from nowhere before, but this probably isn’t one of those times, and sure enough, Michael lifts his head to give Alex a look of concern, head tilted to the side. That dramatic black hat, along with his dark clothes and curled-in posture, it makes him blend into the background, no matter how large he looms in Alex’s eye. He’s always been good at diminishing, at blending. Alex wishes he’d never had to learn to do that.

Alex forces his shoulders to lower, forces a smile to his face. “Yeah, you just startled me. Didn’t think anyone was out here, and, um, I thought you left. During the song.”

The silence stretches too long, too awkward as Michael rolls his shoulders in a shrug, does a familiar old nervous gesture of taking off his hat, running his hand through his hair, and settling his hat back down. Alex spent two weeks trying to find the chords right for that memory, the quiet yearning it awakes in him.

“Yeah, I—I don’t know,” Michael says. 

He doesn’t lean against the wall; he doesn’t fold his arms in front of him. He has nothing in his hands. Alex can’t remember the last time he saw him so without a shield, and it takes his breath away. 

Michael continues, “I know I wasn’t invited. I mean, uh, I think you didn’t mind seeing me too much, if I can read your face half as well now as I used to, but I wanted to respect that.”

“I didn’t! I didn’t mind.”

Silence falls again. Alex should say something more, should explain himself, shouldn’t let Michael walk away from this thinking he wasn’t wanted.

He blurts, “I thought about inviting you, but I—well, you heard the song, and with things with Maria still so recent and up in the air, I didn’t want to put you in a tough spot. I understand.”

Michael smiles at him, a look so soft Alex can hardly stand it. He licks his lips as if to check if he can still feel, still taste Forrest there, like that might be some sort of reminder that there are other things in life than Michael. He feels nothing, tastes nothing—but how much of the way Michael has always lingered on his skin and on his senses has been psychosomatic all along, because of how much he wished Michael would stay? No one could ever compare. It’s wrong of him to even try.

“You could have asked,” Michael says. “Let me know what it was about. I would have been here. I would have come. I’m happy—proud of you. For doing that, in there. I hope it was everything you wanted it to be. The moment you needed.”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t. I want to say I was doing it for me, but...it’s hard to tell. Something else I’m working on.” Alex shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets just for something to do with them. “It...it definitely meant something, though. I’m happy.”

“Then I’m happy, too.” 

Alex shakes his head. “You don’t have to say that. You wanted so badly to be open with me, but I was never ready, and now that I am, it’s…” Too late. But he doesn’t say it, like filling the air with it might make it even more real than it already is.

“Alex. I lived in this town with your father for ten years. I got it. It hurt, and that hurt might have been screaming louder than the fear we both shared, but I did feel it too.”

The silence that follows has a hole in it where another apology might fit, but if they get started they’ll be here all night.

“Look, um,” Michael says, “Were you looking to get out of here or do you want to sit for a while? It’s a pretty nice night.”

What had previously been the truth—that the show had him feeling good but wanting privacy after willingly divesting it so dramatically—goes right up in smoke, and in its place is just the clean, simple desire to be in Michael’s company, close enough for their knees to brush under the small table, under the fairy lights, under the sky.

“I’m sorry,” Michael says. Alex sucks in a sharp breath.

He hadn’t expected the apology to actually reach the air. Hadn’t even wanted it to.

Alex has never liked apologies. What good is an apology? Greg used to apologize, sometimes, in hushed words when their father wasn’t listening. Flint and Clay never bothered, and Alex preferred it to empty words. Greg’s apology is easier to accept now, with the advantage of hindsight, coupled with action, but Alex doesn’t know how to react to Michael’s sorry.

Jesse Manes never apologized. Not for anything. And now he’s dead. Alex sits across from Michael. The slam of the Pony’s door as someone leaves, the slam of a car door as someone arrives, it all just sounds like hammers falling one after another.

How long did it take for Alex to stop flinching at the sound of military-issue boots approaching? At the shape a man’s shoulders made in uniform towering over him? At the snap and bark of a sergeant’s voice?

Michael’s shoulders are rounded. He always slouches so much.

Alex misses flinching, sometimes. He misses simple, unconditioned, weak prey instincts, universal signals of the vulnerable, of the frightened, so someone capable of comforting him might know how badly he’s in need of comforting—

“Alex?”

Michael’s hand rests in the middle of the small table, bare, his palm upturned like it’s just waiting for the weight of Alex’s hand to settle on top of it. It’s his left hand. Over ten years and one hundred hoarded golden hours, Alex loved the way that hand touched him, like it was all of Michael contained in one small limb. Hurt and hopeful, with a necessary tender lightness, with a shape that sometimes made his throat ache to look at it. Some days he couldn’t use it at all. But he never hid, never tried to cover that part of himself to make Alex comfortable. Maybe that’s why Alex reacted so poorly to the bandana he wore these past months. He made the mistake for so long of thinking that a baring of scars was the same as a baring of souls, and then he learned he was wrong. And then Michael’s scars were gone…

But the hurt still lingered.

Alex puts his hand in Michael’s.

“What are you sorry for?”

“Hearing you sing in there…you’ve got me thinking about how much time we missed. The part I played in all that, pushing you away time and again. Not trusting you, not talking to you.”

“We were just kids.”

“I know. Still. Kids hurt each other all the time, and worse than adults do, most of it. And I’ve done my fair share of that, too.”

Oh, Michael. 

“The hurt kids do to each other, it’s not the same,” Alex says softly, as gently as he can muster. “I’m thirty years old. If I can’t look back and forgive the kids we were over the past ten years, what hope is there for me now?”

Michael shakes his head stubbornly. “I was old enough to know better. To be better. To use my words instead of just lashing out when I was hurt. Maybe you don’t remember some of the shit I said, when we used to fight over you leaving, but I do. If we’re turning over a new leaf now, sayin’ sorry just feels like the right thing to do.”

He makes himself look so small. The table forces the barest necessary space between them, but not so little Alex can gracefully lean across it to press their foreheads together, or to rest his hand against Michael’s heart, no matter how much he wants to, no matter how tightly he presses their hands together to make up for it. He wants to feel that heartbeat, let Michael feel his own, match themselves to the same vital rhythm.

But this is about new leaves, like Michael said. So Alex takes a deep breath and lets the words stretch and burn and breathe between them, strengthening the muscles that he let grow so weak for so long.

“Michael. Listen to me. When you were seventeen, homeless, and vulnerable in ways I couldn’t even comprehend, you threw yourself onto my rich, homophobic, military father to protect me. That takes more courage and goodness than it takes to throw yourself on a grenade. Trust me, I know.”

“But—”

Alex leans in, the table biting into his stomach, close enough now to feel Michael’s breath on his cheek and smell rain off the collar of his shirt. “I refuse to blame us—to blame you—for the way it broke us afterward. Okay? No more keeping score. We have the pieces—we can, maybe we can work together to put them back together. No matter what the final picture turns out to look like, even if it’s something completely different than we thought it would be at seventeen. Is that—would that be okay?”

Michael’s thumb passes over the back of Alex’s hand, a simple gesture that makes the hair stand up on his arms. All static, all electric. Alex aches, but it’s a good one.

“I don’t know if it’s too late for us. And you weren’t wrong when you said that things are still rough with Maria. It doesn’t even feel real that things could be over between me and her. And I saw the way Forrest Long looked at you.” Michael’s voice goes so soft Alex can hardly stand it. “If that’s something, you should let it be something.”

“I don’t know if it’s something. I don’t know if I want it to be.”

Alex’s words are distant even to his own ears.

Michael says, “That’s okay too. I’m just tired of pushing, tired of pulling. I want us both to be free, to, to just follow our hearts and see where we end up. I guess that’s my version of not keeping score. ‘Cause I know that you’re in here,” he puts his other hand over his heart, “No matter what our relationship is like. Fighting that just hurts us worse.”

Hope is such a painful thing. Michael told him that for years and years and Alex never quite believed him. But now that he’s asked to hold true to his own beliefs—that hope is necessary, that hope is a tool against yesterday, a compass pointed firmly in the direction of tomorrow—he wavers.

“It shouldn’t have had to be a fight,” he says. “You tried to tell me that you just needed space months ago, and I didn’t—couldn’t—didn’t want to listen. I wanted us to be okay; I thought if I atoned or whatever, we would be okay. But I wasn’t doing it for you. Digging for information, turning over every rock to find the ugliness underneath, that’s what I needed, not you.”

“But you were trying. I recognize that now, I do.”

“I—” Inches from arguing, Alex stops himself short. Patterns, it’s all patterns. They both have to get better at recognizing them, and that means Alex can’t do the same thing he’s told Michael is wrong, where he believes Michael’s assessment of him only when it suits the ugliest voices in his head.

So he says, “Yes. I was. I wanted to empower you the way I feel empowered when I have all the information at my fingertips, but I didn’t ask you what you needed.”

Michael leans forward. “And I should have told you outright that I needed space instead of trying to make you leave so it would make sense when you did—or just trying to hurt you for staying this time and not any other time when I really needed you to.”

Alex swallows hard and nods. He leans forward too. Michael’s hand is so, so warm in his. The two of them walk the same tightrope toward solid ground.

“I’m glad,” Michael says. “I’m glad that you stayed this time. You deserve to know that. I’ve been fighting to get free of the past; I know it’s unchangeable, but it’s always there, telling me all the ways I should have been better, and. Right now, in the present. Thank you. For being there this year.”

Michael smiles at him, a real smile, the kind of look Alex thought he might have imagined from across the bar, with music in his lungs. His eyes crinkle up, sparkling, face utterly transformed with what can only be utterly consuming fondness.

I love you. I love you. I love you. How could he not? How could he have ever convinced himself he was capable of stopping? Michael’s laughter is the joy of knowing someone. Alex hasn’t felt so seen and so unafraid since he was seventeen years old.

Maria and Michael just broke up a few days ago, and it wasn’t mutual. There are so many leaps Alex wants to take now that he’s taken this one, to see how they feel, to reshape and reaffirm his comfort zone now that some of his ghosts have been put to rest. There are so many reasons to wait, to make sure that this time they can get this right.

But what if Michael doesn’t know? Even at this stage down the long road of getting to know the man he loves, Alex knows how easily he doubts his own worth

He and Maria understand each other, as ever. He would give up his brain to see the future, too.

Michael’s face has gone soft and concerned the longer Alex hasn’t responded. Tingling spreads up Alex’s arm when Michael’s warm, rough hand tightens around his own, and the softness he feels helps unloosen his chest and let the words come out. 

“No, thank you,” he says, fitting his other hand around Michael’s knuckles so Michael’s healed hand is cradled between his.

That touch lingers for a long moment. For most of their lives, Alex hasn’t been able to read Michael’s face, has second-guessed what he thought each little flicker meant, has held back from acting on what he thought Michael was telling him, no matter how achingly open Michael’s face was. Now, though, Alex just has no idea what is going through Michael’s head as he watches their joined hands, Alex’s fingers against Michael’s bare skin, the bandana abandoned somewhere before Michael even came to the Pony tonight.

“Should we...should we talk about this?” Alex asks, letting his finger draw gently against Michael’s middle knuckle. Michael’s fingers flex in his grip.

“Don’t know what there is to talk about.”

“I don’t know.” Alex shifts and clears his throat. “Just...anything you want to say. Anything you’re feeling. Anything you want to say to me specifically.”

Michael glances around. They’re alone on the patio, but Alex understands. The silence of the night and the muffled clamor of the bar on the other side of the wall give the illusion the whole world is listening.

Then, bluntly, he says, “It hurt. What you said. That you so obviously didn’t understand I might have a hard time looking at it for personal reasons, since I never asked for it to be healed. I thought if anyone understood that, you would.”

Alex’s knee twinges in concert. He itches to rub it, but his hands stay still wrapped around Michael’s. 

Michael continues, “Hiding the healing had nothing to do with you, and if I was still pissed at your dad for causing it or at Max for healing it, that wasn’t really any of your business, either. That’s all.”

Deep breaths. Having all that out in the open is a clean thing, a necessary thing. Alex nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Michael nods back and lets his shoulders drop. “But Max is the person I need to get into it with, not you. Then he was dead when I really needed to, so it got all twisted up and stuck inside of me, and I didn’t say anything to anyone. I don’t blame you for not being a mind reader and coming to some wrong conclusions.”

It’s that—it’s that that leaves Alex floundering for a moment, that instant of Michael seeing his guilt and cutting through it with a few words. He leaves a vacuum in its place and all of Alex’s other feelings, so carefully compartmentalized, have to rush to fill it in. Michael lets the silence linger, but Alex can feel the quickness of his heartbeat in the small of his wrist.

“What about you? Anything you want to say to me?” Michael says. “‘Cause we’ve fought before, but for some reason we keep coming back to the bunker. Feels like maybe there’s something there.”

“I…”

That...yeah. He was right. So many times, they’d fought. When they were kids and everything was falling apart. Over ten years, among the pieces. The argument they had in the bunker was practically a level-headed disagreement compared to the fight they had before Alex’s last deployment, the worst one, the one that cut them apart for almost two years without a word to each other. Even that one had scattered like mist under the morning sun when they were in each other’s arms again. 

And maybe that’s part of it. That their physical relationship has changed, that without the language of touch everything feels harsher and harder to forget. But the other reason lurks behind the walls in his mind.

He’s supposed to be better now. More peaceful, more understanding, more balanced. To preach forgiveness then lash out at Michael, the one person it’s always been safe to be angry with—it’s an ugly thing. Alex doesn’t want to hold it. Doesn’t want to be that. He’s supposed to be better now. It doesn’t matter how often a therapist tells him progress isn’t a straight line. It shouldn’t matter. 

If he can fix this, make it like it never happened, maybe he can fix them.

Alex doesn’t want to look that feeling in the eyes. Has avoided it, so far. And how to say it? He doesn’t even know if Michael wants them fixed. Not the same way Alex does. And now’s not the time to ask that question. 

“I just want us to be okay,” he says. Simple. Weak. He hates the sound of pleading inside his own skull. He isn’t used to it. It’s just Michael. Michael won’t use it against him, won’t hurt him, he knows this, but inside something turns and hides and covers its head with its arms waiting for the blow. To buy it time, he babbles, “Not talking about it feels like hiding. All the times we let arguments go in the past—I want to do things differently, to actually say I know what I did wrong and say that I know we, I, can do better, I don’t know, I just want things to be different, to change for good—”

“Okay.”

Michael’s voice is soft. So soft Alex wants to whimper.

“Okay, Alex,” he repeats. Now his other hand, hesitating just slightly, comes up to rest against Alex’s, so they’re holding onto each other as fast as they can with the distance and objects between them. 

That’s it? Just okay? 

Michael shifts their hands, slides their fingers together slowly, and gives them a squeeze.

Oh.

Okay.

“Were you wanting to get out of here?” Michael asks suddenly, dipping his head slightly so his hat hides his eyes.

“No, um. Actually, I think I’ll stay a while. It’s a nice night.”

He’s exhausted, but nothing could tear him away. Not now. And it is a nice night, clear and cool, the sky wide and velvet above them, in their little bubble of light.

“Cool,” Michael says. He leans back in his chair, though he leaves their hands connected, and he looks up at Alex again, eyes glimmering with a smile. “‘Cause I want to hear more about how you got into songwriting for real. You didn’t tell me about it when we hung out the other day.”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Alex replies, but his heart sings at the interest.

“Ok, sure, uh-huh. Well I’m going to go get us drinks, and when I get back maybe you can distract me and pull a rabbit out of a hat.”

“Between the two of us, you’re the one with the magic hands,” Alex says, only for his mouth to drop open when he realizes what he’s just said.

But Michael is already cackling, and the sound is so soothing to Alex’s soul he can’t interrupt, and he’s standing up to go inside, and it’s impossible not to notice how he doesn’t let their hands drop until the last possible moment, and then he’s sweeping his hat off his head with a dramatic bow and a cheeky smirk, and Alex can’t help but smile back at him.

He turns to head back into the Pony, and as Alex watches and mirrors the motion, he flexes his hands, rubs them together, then slides them into his pockets as if to hide the lingering feeling of touch for safekeeping.

And then Alex is alone, still smiling, knowing Michael will be back soon. 

[canary3d-obsessed]

Shen Wei Serving Lewks, Part 7

(Masterpost)

Look 30

Swamp coat...no wait, hang on.

Upon close inspection, this is not Swamp Coat, but a different loose trench coat in Swamp color. What the fuck, Shen Wei! Borrow one of your boyfriend’s coats again, pretty please?

Both times this tunic/coat outfit has appeared on Shen Wei, Zhao Yunlan was wearing this gorgeous tailored denim number, with perfectly fitted shoulders and a nipped in waist. Sigh.

Anyway, Swamp Coat 2.0 is nicer than 1.0, and Shen Wei is wearing it with a with an immaculate super-casual loose white tunic with a band collar, so he looks beautiful even though this ensemble is decidedly meh. 

As Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan get closer, Shen Wei’s wardrobe becomes looser and more casual, which is probably good for his psyche so...okay. 

In addition to layers of loose fabric, this look features a checkered nosebleed hanky and the angriest face he has ever turned on Zhao Yunlan. 

Along with definitely not kissing

(More behind the cut!)

And definitely not having a massive grope session like the last time Shen Wei got between Zhao Yunlan’s knees on this lab table.

Once the anger passes, however, this is a very good look for making out in a taxi with a boy who has excellent taste in coats. 

Bonus Look 2: ZY’s Turn to Be Angry

This look belongs to Zhao Yunlan, who is wearing a single soft layer with a wide exposed neck so he can have an intense argument and hand touching with Shen Wei. This is Zhao Yunlan’s at home look, without the extra layer (vest or jacket, in a tough fabric) he always wears except when he’s alone with Shen Wei.

Shen Wei is like, no it’s fine honey, slicing my arm open is just a thing I do so I can eventually die spectacularly.  Also I drained my life force for you, don’t make a big deal of it you know I hate when you make a big deal of things. 

For once Zhao Yunlan gets to be the overprotective, upset partner in the relationship and also maybe the big spoon for a change. In keeping with his personality, he expresses himself explosively... 

...while Shen Wei quietly leaks out emotions like the black smoke leaking from his wrist.

This is Zhao Yunlan without his armor, his swagger, his smile; this might be the only time he is as vulnerable with Shen Wei as Shen Wei (always) is with him. 

Look 31

Shen Wei wears his blue double-breasted wedding crasher suit to begin his long, long relationship with this pillar.

This look features chains, more chains, and long conversations with ridiculous smoke effects. 

Bonus Look 3 - ZY Rescue Trench

Now THAT is a trench coat. Do you hear me, Shen Wei's Swamp Coats?

Hilariously, we are meant to believe this superbly fitted coat with its itty bitty waist and this perfectly sized gun belt are what Zhao Yunlan took off of this schlubby guard. Zhao Yunlan DOES have magic powers! 

This is a good outfit for convincing your lover to give up his relationship with a malevolent pillar and come home with you. 

Did I hastily photoshop Smoke Dude out of that rescue picture? I did.

Is this just a gratuitous picture of freshly-unchained Shen Wei looking upset and Zhao Yunlan comforting him? It is. Shout out to all the H/C fans!

Look 32

This look is a grey suit with a white grid pattern, and striped red and blue accent fabric on the pocket and under the collar.  This was briefly featured way back in the trauma cake arc. Here Shen Wei is also wearing a fresh cravat in grey tones. 

Shen Wei had been wearing a narrower range of outfits lately because he doesn't have enough drawers at Zhao Yunlan's place, so he must have made a brief stop at his apartment to get some more things. 

At home with Zhao Yunlan, Shen Wei wears this look with a bare face and neck, chilling in his white shirt with the collar stiffeners. I'm going to call them that forever; you can't stop me.  Note how the shirt has darts (the vertical seams from his shoulder blades to his waist) so that it fits perfectly across the back.

This is a good look for lovingly preparing fresh fruit for your candy-addicted beloved and then watching him while he sleeps. 

Shen Wei’s ass is now chainless, alas, but these trousers are doing yeoman’s werk work.  

While Zhao Yunlan sleeps, Shen Wei takes the opportunity to check up on his special pendant necklace that he bought at a bong shop when he was in college.

Back in the full ensemble, Shen Wei is ready to have a haberdashery throwdown with his jerkass father-in-law, who normally has serious game in a plum coat and patterned vest.  

Today Pop Zhao has unexpectedly said “fuck it” and worn a brown sweater and beige trench. 

Don’t encourage Shen Wei’s boring taste in coats, Pop Zhao!

After easily winning the best-dressed award at tea, Shen Wei accessorizes his look with cheekbones that could cut glass, and his best “oops, busted” face when Zhao Yunlan sees him hanging out with the parent ZY hates so much that he has the same job and facial hair as him.

That leads to a wonderfully layered interaction, in which Shen Wei just kind of stands in front of Zhao Yunlan refusing to engage with his need for control, while Zhao Yunlan roasts Shen Wei for being untrustworthy...and then offers him a ride back to the office.

Guardian is so good at capturing the constantly-fluctuating state of a deep relationship, in which you can be fighting on one level and totally fine on another level; where you’re going to have a donnybrook with your lover but first you’re going to get a decent meal into them. 

Skipping!

We’re skipping over the increasingly bloody tee-shirt ensemble that appears in the final episodes. That look says, “anti-gay narrative tropes suck.” 

Instead, check out this beauty that Shen Wei wore for one poorly-lit scene early in the show. This is the only time he wears a fully-matched 3-piece suit and he SLAYS in it. And then puts it in mothballs forever. 

I guess when you’re wearing an outfit the first time your sweetheart breaks into your apartment and disorganizes your panty drawer, you only want to wear it for the most special occasions after that. 

Look 33

After a bunch of unnecessary yet compellingly-acted death, Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan meet up outside of time and space in a Windows 95 screensaver.  

[That is a Gen X joke. OP is old.] 

Shen Wei’s look for this meeting is the same one he wore the day they met in the modern world - the double-breasted 10-button vest, with arm garters and now also (SIGH) tears in his eyes. Instead of that, here is an infinite loop of Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan talking over dinner in their kitchen, because screw Episode 40. 

Look 34

Exiting the screensaver, Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan fall out into the AU of your choice, because they realize that they left the wormhole together last time so it shouldn’t be too difficult to leave it together this time. They can just hold hands while they leave, for fuck’s sake. 

In the AU of your choice they get married in these beautiful suits, as seen in Bazaar magazine. 

Shen Wei’s look here features tousled hair and the glasses-free look he prefers when he’s with his true love. This is the first black suit we’ve seen him in, and he’s doing fine work in it, particularly with the gold bola thingy he’s wearing at the collar.  Zhao Yunlan is so hot here that only Shen Wei dares to touch him.

Look 35

For the beach party they throw for their AU friends and neighbors a month after the wedding, (also courtesy of Bazaar’s photoshoot) Shen Wei chooses this short-legged suit with white canvas shoes, a lovely display of calf and a sprinkling of leg hair. 

This look says, I love you forever and I'm pretty sure I can give you a spinal adjustment using only my leg muscles. 

Shen Wei has replaced his bong-shop pendant with a tasteful diamond bar necklace, which was an apology gift from Zhao Yunlan after ZY intentionally accidentally set fire to Swamp Coats 1 through 4. 

Near his heart Shen Wei is wearing a tie pin (sans tie) that’s made out of a lollipop stick. 

Preview

The next post features Shen Wei’s cosplay looks including Black Robe Envoy and Ye Zun! 

[schrijverr]

Perfect Height

Jon reflects upon his height throughout all the seasons and how he relates to the world around him.

On AO3.

Ships: JMart

Warnings: Major character death.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jon wasn’t small, okay. He wasn’t. He might technically be below average, but Jon was willing to ignore that fact and blame his apparent small stature on the fact that he worked with unusually tall people.

Tim was pretty well built and standing at a confidant 183 cm and Sasha was also well above average with her 176 cm. Martin was not only incredibly tall, 186 cm (which he tried to hide by slouching slightly and smiling constantly to seem less threatening, something that worked quite well with his round and cutely freckled face), but he was also muscled from years of carrying his mother and had quite a bit of fat around those muscles. This meant Jon with his thin frame could fit inside Martin about two and a half to three times.

Still, Jon insisted, he wasn’t small. He just wasn’t. Sure he was 165 cm, about ten centimeters under the national average, and bony, but he was not small.

It didn’t help his case that he couldn’t reach the high shelves in the archive and he struggled with carrying boxes of statements, he also couldn’t reach the floor if he sat in his chair, he wasn’t able to keep up properly if walking with Tim or Martin and he had to climb on the counter more often than not to grab things.

But he wasn’t small!

He might be okay with saying he was on the short side, but no matter how Tim and Sasha teased and how Martin silently agreed, he wasn’t small. He was their boss and he had a certain image to uphold and he couldn’t be intimidating enough to get them to work if he admitted he was small.

Jon had worked hard to be seen as professional.

Although his hair was long he kept it in a tight bun and his facial hair was neatly trimmed, he always had an immaculate dress shirt on, no jeans but nice professional pants, polished shoes and inoffensive glasses that complemented his face.

He made sure to look as professional and competent as he could. He had worked hard and gotten a promotion and he hadn’t put in all that effort to get laughed at by his subordinates about his height or smallness or whatever.

However, that wasn’t stopping them. Today was extra hellish, because Tim had walked in when Jon had been balanced on the counter trying to get his mug from the top shelves after Martin had carelessly put it there.

Tim had seen him, taken a picture and then laughed at him, easily grabbing the mug without even having to stand on his toes, the asshole. Jon had huffed and snatched the mug out of his hands and ignored his jabs.

But then Sasha had come in and she had seen the picture Tim had apparently shared and now the two of them were roasting him about the mug.

Jon mentally kicked himself, it wasn’t as if there hadn’t been other mugs he could’ve grabbed instead, but it was his mug.

The mug Martin had given him and always brought him tea in.

He didn’t know why it was so important to him that he drank out of that mug and why it did weird things with his chest, so he decided that it irritated him and silently directed that irritation to Martin, who had to be responsible for his predicament since he had given Jon the mug in the first place.

Tim and Sasha didn’t seem to be stopping with the jokes, so he snapped: “Well, if you’re all done, I’ll be going to record some statements and I will not be bothered by you two.”

“Ah, boss, don’t be glum,” Tim called after him and Sasha added: “Yeah, you don’t have the space for too much emotions,” which send them back into peals of laughter again.

Jon pulled the door close with a hard bang and dropped down in his chair, hating the fact that his feet dangled in the air, so he pulled them up and set them on the edge of his seat, curling into himself.

He could admit to himself that he was small, of course he knew he was short and thin, so therefore would fit the definition of small. He didn’t even mind all that much, not even the ribbing about it. It was nice, like he was also part of the camaraderie the others had created, but he could get fed up with it when it was seemingly the only thing everyone talked about.

Sighing again, he turned his chair to the side and pulled the tape recorder along with the statement closer to him. He used his knee to balance the mug of tea against, while he started the recording with his other and then lost himself into the story.

And by the time he was done he had almost forgotten it had happened. He uncurled himself and sat in a more professional manner as he continued his day, still deciding to stay in his office to avoid the teasing, just in case.

But soon there wasn’t much time for teasing. The Archives were under attack by worms and they needed to get out of there. Jon was secretly pretty glad that it wasn’t much of a struggle for Tim to keep him on his feet, while they maneuvered through the tunnels.

After that the air in the office wasn’t the same and the paranoia from Jon kept most of them from making any comments, except a few scathing ones.

Then they were attacked again and their world kept getting weirder and weirder. They lost Sasha too, if it had even been Sasha. Jon tried to remember the real Sasha, he knew she was taller than him, but he couldn’t recall if that had always been or just since the Not-Sasha.

He was also on the run, hiding out at Georgie’s place.

The Admiral, who once had fit in his palms now took up his entire chest. But Georgie’s hug were still as good as he remembered. She still rested her chin on his head that first night there, when he had cried into her shirt and tried to explain why he was there.

He almost got murdered by Daisy, who tossed him around easily. He was saved, of course, but trying to do his job proved difficult alone, but Melanie waswilling to help.

Luckily his name was cleared, but it wasn’t much better for Jon. He was constantly on edge, barely eating and sleeping. He was getting thinner, smaller. He only noticed it after he became easy to kidnap. Although, he mused, I never knew if that was before too, since I didn’t get kidnapped back then.

First Nikola Orsinov and later by Trevor and Julia. It was concerning how easily Julia carried him, despite not being more than a couple of centimeters taller than him.

They stopped the end of the world, but more people died, Tim died and with him the teasing that Jon silently missed even if it hadn’t been teasing anymore for a long time.

He wasn’t human anymore and none, who once had made slightly teasing remarks about it, dared to do so now. Not that being a monster helped, of course, he stayed thin and short.

Joncouldn’t complain about it though, not when he was in the Buried, looking for Daisy, desperate for anything positive to happen, for people to look at him again as if he was normal, maybe for Martin to talk to him.

He missed Martin. He had never thought it be possible for someone of Martin stature to become invisible, but it looked like he had become a ghost. Although, he saw more ghosts than Martin these days. He missed the way his big hands would rest on his shoulder or how he could completely hide behind Martin whenever he had managed to piss off Tim or Sasha enough for them to come after him.

Martin was there, but he was gone just as soon.

But Daisy was safe and Basira didn’t have as much hate in her eyes as before, which had to count for something. It was concerning that Daisy was just as thin as Jon now, barely any muscles left in her normally muscled frame.

Daisy was nice to him, she held his hand like they had done down in the Buried to remind herself where she was. Her hands were rough, but fragile and Jon didn’t dare grasp them tight enough to ease the ache in his chest.

The only hands he gripped that tight were Martins when he was desperately pulling him from the hold the Lonely had on him. Martins hand was soft and warm and big, just like Jon had thought and Jon had never wanted to hold on to something more than that hand.

Jon would never be big or strong enough to tug Martin along, not if Martin didn’t want to, but Martin did want to.

Step by step they made it out of that awful place. Jon's insides lit up, Martin was there and solid, Martin wanted to come with him. He kept on holding that hand, not stopping until they were safe and far, far away from the place that had hurt them so much.

When they first arrived at the cottage Jon found that it had only one bed, he didn’t mind sharing with Martin and Martin didn’t protest when he pushed him on the bed.

Jon got his shoes off, then he scrambled up further onto the bed. Right now, he needed to be close to Martin, to be held, to know that this was real. If things were weird tomorrow, he’d deal with them then. So, he laid down on Martins chest and stomach. He rested his legs on either side of Martins and shoved his head into the space under Martins chin.

Martin was out cold and didn’t even notice the small amount of extra weight on top of him. He just instinctively held the warmth close. And Jon, Jon never left that space.

Jon was okay with the fact that he was small.

It was hard not to be okay with it when Martin could envelop him completely, shield him from the changed world outside their window. Or when his hand rested on Jon’s back, leading him out of a domain.

The both of them fit so well together and when Martin held Jon tight, for a moment the world didn’t seem hopeless, for a moment it seemed like everything would be alright.

They walked through places you’d think be devoid of life and the fact that they weren’t made them so much worse. Throughout it all they held on to one another’s hand, fingers slotting together slowly easing the ache in Jon’s soul.

When they reached their goal they found their friends and Jon felt as if his heart would burst out of his chest when Georgie pulled him into a hug again, almost reminisced of when he was on the run seemingly eons ago.

And when he and Martin shared that stupid mattress he could watch Martin the entire time from the safety of his arms.

It was so good in all that misery that naturally it didn’t last.

Plans change, worlds end and choices had to be made, no matter how badly none of them wanted to.

So, Jon closed himself off. He’d always been a small speck in the world that never truly fit with shelves that were too high for him to reach and steps that were too big for him to keep up. It was fine, though, he would be fine and then it would be over.

However, he had forgotten how tightly Martin held onto him, how he never let go of Jon’s hand despite what the world threw at him.

Loyal Martin.

Sweet Martin.

Safe Martin.

Jon didn’t know how he could have ever walked out of the safety of those arms, away from the chin resting on his head or the warmth of those hands.

So when Martin agreed to stop it here, to let this be the end, he let himself drop back into the security of those arms, knowing that he could trust Martin to do what needed to be done. To take that plunge and hold Jon through it.

They kissed one last time, before Martin gathered him up into his arms and with tears in his eyes, he stabbed Jon, hoping that the prone life form would wake up again.

Jon never did, but there was a content smile on frozen lips for in his final moments he remembered how perfectly he fit in those arms and how there was nowhere he’d rather be.

Jon is a tiny bastard and people can fight me about that

(also cries bc Jon is still 6 cm taller than me here)

fun fact this was written a while ago and first it ended with Jon safe in Martin’s arms, but then I found it again and thought: “Hmm, I can make this sad” so I did

[demigodlunar]

Scars - Chapter 4

-- Trigger Warning: Mentions of self-harm and bad parenting. Read at your own risk.

Chapter 4 - End It Cleanly Mclean

Piper flopped onto her immaculately made bed after her morning run with her mother, rumpling up the covers a little bit and enjoying the brief moments of silence before-

“Models do not flop onto their beds, daughter, they sit on the edge daintily.” A saccharine sweet voice lilted from outside Piper’s bedroom.

Piper stifled her groan and got up quietly, remaking her bed and smoothing her hands over the glossy silk sheets. She made sure not to miss a spot, because her mother, the amazing model Aphrodite Mclean, was no doubt watching her every move from the doorway.

“I’m sorry, mother, “ Piper said quietly, looking down at her feet that her mother commented were “too big” to be from a woman, “I won’t do it again.”

She looked up and locked eyes with her mother, the most beautiful, and cruelest, person Piper had ever met. That one thought of rebelliousness died away, and Piper forcefully looked back down respectfully at her feet.

Aphrodite had silky black hair that made its way down her back in ringlets, with only the most expensive products used on her luscious locks. With chocolate brown eyes like those of a feline. She was thin as a toothpick, with a curvy, full body which attracted a lot of men, and sometimes even women. Aphrodite’s skin was fair and spotless, her nails and clothes always complimenting each other and the rest of her. Piper really wished she hadn’t inherited her mother's insane beauty.

Her mother did another once over of Piper’s bedroom, trying to find something to critique. Not finding any flaws, she pursed her lips, flipped her hair over her shoulder and promptly left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Piper let out a breath she didn’t know she was even holding, and it made her plop back down onto her bed and bury her head in her hands.

Why couldn’t I have just gone with Dad?

~~~~~~~~~~

Tristan Mclean met Aphrodite Ouranos at a theatre gathering. He was immediately struck by her beauty and charm, and she seemed to like him just as much. They started going out after a week, and dated for a couple months before getting married.

After they had Piper, Tristan and Aphrodite made it big, Tristan with a high-paying acting career which required him to move around a lot, and Aphrodite with a modeling job. Both of the jobs needed a lot of traveling, but someone needed to stay and take care of Piper, the beautiful baby who inherited her mother’s beauty and her father’s smile and hair.

So while Tristan went on world tours and visited iconic cities and landmarks, Aphrodite would stay at home and take care of Piper. Needless to say, she hated the job, and wanted to dump her daughter in an orphanage to be taken care of by someone else, but then an idea struck her.

If she could raise Piper to be exactly like her, independent and flawless, it would help Aphrodite’s modeling and parenting. She was wrong of course, but she obviously didn’t think that. The result of her carelessness was a five year old running around a large empty estate, eating whatever she wanted and doing whatever she pleased.

There were many, many times when Piper had been left alone for long periods of time, and she did learn to be independent, but vowed to never become like her mother. Once Piper hit her middle school years, Aphrodite realized just how beautiful her daughter was, even more so, than Aphrodite herself. That was a problem.

So she shipped Piper off to a ladies academy for middle schoolers, and when Piper came back the summer before her first year at high school, she was… exactly the same. No manners had been changed, no clothing choice had been improved, nothing.

That’s when Aphrodite took the manner into her own manicured fingers. She critiqued Piper on anything and everything she did, even if it was the slightest misstep or a small snort that escaped her mouth. At the start, Piper rebelled against her, but Aphrodite oppressed her so much that Piper gave in and listened to her mother's every whim, and stayed quiet through every admonishment.

That was what made Piper start cutting.

It was small at first, just a little glance at a knife or razor and wondering how it would feel against her skin. Then, light traces with the sharp blades on her wrist, seeing how light she could go to draw blood. What pushed past her tipping point was when Piper was idly drawing the knife across her arm, not enough to see blood, but enough to feel a small sting, and her mother walked into the bathroom to see what was taking her so long.

She took one cold look at the blade, and the marks on Piper’s arm and left the bathroom. Piper stared after her, but when she came back, it wasn’t with a hug, or words of help to drag Piper out of the world of a depression.

It was a razor. A pink razor with a bejeweled hilt.

Aphrodite held it out to Piper and said only two words: “Use that.”

Since that day, Piper seemed to enjoy when her mother would leave her alone to do her modeling, because Piper had the day to cut herself happy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Now don’t get her wrong. Piper wasn’t suicidal for two reasons. The first was her father and her friends. She tried to resent her father for leaving her alone with her monster of a mother, but he was too kind for her to hate him, and the couple days a year he came and stayed with them were the best. And her friends, well, they were the only people who kept her sane while she was here. Annabeth, Reyna, Thalia, Leo. They were the best friends anybody could ask for, and they supported her whenever she felt sad. They didn’t know about the cutting.

The second was that she was too cowardly to try to take her life. Afraid of hurting her friends. Afraid that it would all be for nothing.

So she didn’t do anything farther than cutting.

Piper realized that thinking about the past and sitting doing nothing but dawdling was really unproductive. She took out her phone and went to check if there were any new messages, and she saw a text from Thalia. So she replied.

(AN: Thalia, Piper)

Today - 11:34 AM

hey Pipes

hey Thals

wassup

Oh nothing, just trying to get away from my tyrannical mother. Normal day.

nothing much, you?

i’m here with my brother at one of my dad’s interview things

Brother?

Piper couldn’t remember Thalia mentioning anything about siblings before. And she did the normal thing and asked Thalia about it.

you have a brother?

It was a long time before Thalia responded, but when she did, Piper snatched up the phone to see her response.

yeah

Piper felt betrayed, she thought they told each other everything. But then again, she had no room to talk.

excuse me, but how come you’ve never told me about him?

never came up

fine, you win, for now. show me a pic?

Thalia sent a picture of a blond-haired boy with the bluest eyes Piper had ever seen. The thing was, she knew this blond-haired boy.

It was Jason Grace, the only person that even came close to Annabeth’s record setting grades. Once he had beaten her by a percent on a English test, and Annabeth was fuming for days, while Piper and the rest of their friends snickered at her back. But Piper never connected the dots, like how he and Thalia had the same last name.

He was also in her math class during Freshman year, and he sat two seats to her right. Piper could remember clearly some moments of that class.

Like when the teacher would ask the class a question, and Jason’s hand would be the only one up so she called on him. He would bite his lower lip and read out the answer in a confident but quiet voice, like he didn’t want anyone to notice him. Then, once Jason got the question right, his posture would straighten, in a proud way. His eyes would light up like a cloudless day sky and his lips would stretch into a smile, making the scar on his upper lip appear more prominently. Jason would push the glasses up the bridge of his nose, and sit back in his chair, satisfied.

One second. Two.

What. Was. That. Piper shook her head and felt her cheeks become hot. She barely knew Jason, yet she had been paying so much more attention to him than she thought she was. Idly, she wondered if his glasses and the tattoo of glasses she had on her shoulder were related in any way.

Suddenly dizzy, she remembered that Thalia was waiting for an answer. With her thoughts off somewhere else, she mindlessly typed a response to Thalia’s question. The good news, it was the truth. The bad news, Thalia would never let her live this down.

After she felt her head clear, she brought her attention back to the conversation and her eyes widened.

oh, that cute boy you sit with at lunch sometimes? He’s really good looking.

“Crap!” Piper yelled, for once not even afraid that her mother will come in and lecture her about the dangers of swearing.

She could just imagine Thalia cackling her witchy laugh wherever she was. Piper started to type in a message to tell Thalia to please, please not tell her brother about that message when a new message popped up at the top.

Piper, honey, I am leaving for my photoshoot now. Please keep the house clean... and no guests. -Mother >:(

Perfect, her mother is gone, now she can go through with that brunch that she planned with her friends. Then she remembered Thalia. Stupid ADHD, hopping from one topic to the other.

It was too late though, because Thalia has already replied.

yes, he is, and he’s also here looking at our conversation.

Piper felt herself blush scarlet red, and she bet anyone could see it, even on her darker complexion. Now she was in for it, she would never be able to face Thalia or Jason ever again. And once Thalia told the rest of their friends…

Piper stood up and started getting ready for the brunch with her friends she planned. Both mentally and physically. Gods, Leo was going to have such a field day when he found out about this.

Well, the routine was only just starting. ____________________________________________________________

This chapter was fun to write haha

-Blossom ;)

[cheeriecherry]

Birds Of A Feather [4/7]

Hawks x Fem!Reader

Warnings: some swearing, a kiss

Part 4/7

By the end of the week, you’re walking into Hawks’ penthouse with nothing but a duffel bag of clothes. Most of your stuff had been moved to storage, but you’d told him you’d bring your own sheets, blankets, and pillows for the couch. He’d stared at you like you’d grown a second head.

He’d then gone on a tangent about how he had guest rooms, obviously, and how his sheets would be softer than yours. He’s probably not wrong, with his 1200 thread count egyptian cotton, but the way he says it ruffles you a bit. You don’t mention it, though. You don’t want to give him any kind of reason to kick you out.

“Hey chickadee, you gonna stand in the entrance all night, or are you gonna come in?”

You snap out of your stupor when Hawks calls to you, and continue lugging your things through the door.

The inside of the penthouse is beautiful; tastefully decorated (probably professionally), and it’s spacious rough that you could spread your wings out fully. The doorways are wider than average, likely catering to your boss’ specific needs. The entire place is gorgeous, immaculate even, and any person in their right mind would kill to live here.

You kind of detest it.

“I had some people come in this afternoon and set up the guest suite for you,” he says, kicking off his boots and flopping onto the couch. “They also brought some of your uniforms in from the agency, so you can change here. You won’t have to go in so early.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, and you mean it. Personal opinions aside, he’s let you into his home out of kindness. You’ll not soon disrespect that.

“Ah, you’re standing and staring again. Are you that impressed with the place?”

You snap back to attention for a second time, and hike your bag further up your shoulder. “I-it’s not that!” you try to explain, “I was just expecting something...different?”

Hawks sits up on the couch. “Whadya mean?”

“I dunno.” You shrug. “More lived in, I guess? Don’t get me wrong, it’s wonderful here, especially the balcony, but it’s also very...what’s the word…”

“Mature and charming?” he tries, but you shake your head.

He offers a few more suggestions, things like ‘perfect’ and ‘homey’ and ‘colourful’, each word hitting further and further from your mark.

Then it comes to you. “Monotone and sterile!” you nearly shout, your success momentarily quieting your desire to be polite. “It’s like it’s fresh out of a magazine, or a model home. Don’t take it the wrong way, Boss, I’m not hating on your tastes, but if I’m gonna be staying here indefinitely, I’m gonna have to add some personal touches.” You remember your manners. “If that’s okay…”

You worry that you may have offended him, with the way he’s looking at you, but a smile slowly spreads across his face, his eyes sparkling.

“Finally,” he sighs, “someone who speaks their damn mind.”

“Eh?”

“Do you know how many of the people I’ve invited here tell me ‘how beautiful’ it is?” He adjusts his wings and settles comfortably back into the couch. “All of them. Every single one. And look, I’m grateful that I’ve got this place, but it’s just a house. No sentimentality, no memories...just a space.”

“Well...it’s polite to not insult someone’s home when they invite you over…” you mumble, the severity of your outburst making your face heat up.

“Maybe,” he says. “Or maybe they’re all schmoozing and hoping to get on my good side.”

The bitterness in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you decide to leave it be. He should be free to be himself in his own home, and not have to put up any kind of front. You hoped he’d supply you the same courtesy, when you inevitably would wake up on the wrong side of the bed some mornings.

“Anyways,” he flips the TV on and tosses the remote to the side, “it’s late. You should probably unpack your stuff before you’re too tired.”

“Yeah…” you realize how wiped out you are as the weariness starts to settle in. “I’ve got tomorrow off though, so...if I wake up on time, I’ll bring you curry.”

You can hear him cheering as you walk down the hall to the guest room, and you smile. You’ll never understand his love for chicken, even though his enthusiasm boosted your confidence.

The room is spacious and airy, and has a beautiful view of the city. The bed itself is probably big enough to hold three people, and you’re silently grateful that your wings won’t be hanging on the floor while you sleep anymore. 

You set your bag down by the door, and flop face first onto the mattress. God, it was the most plush thing you’d ever had the pleasure to lay on.

“I’ll unpack tomorrow,” you mumble, sinking further into the sheets and, eventually, sleep.

In the distance, you hear Hawks snoring.

----

You wake up the next day to sunlight hitting your face. It’s bright, and annoying, and too warm, and your bed really wants you to keep sleeping but you don’t think you can.

You sit up.

You can feel that your hair is a disheveled mess, and your tongue feels gummy and sour.

“Blegh.”

You (regrettably) roll out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to fix your morning vibes, checking the time along the way. Ten is later than you would have liked to wake up, but you suppose you really needed the sleep. And you did, surprisingly, feel more rested than you had in months.

It’s ten thirty by the time you’re done in the washroom, overall energy more put together and presentable, and you waste no time heading for the kitchen.

The kitchen which is...painfully under-stocked. A couple of condiments and wilting vegetables in the fridge...some frozen meat in the freezer...a bag of rice under the sink, for some reason, and...a completely full spice rack, every bottle unopened.

You knew your boss didn’t spend a lot of time at home, but this was just sad. 

You make a mental note to go shopping later.

Thankfully he seems to have the necessary ingredients for chicken curry, which you’re happy about. It means you won’t have to brave the store just yet.

Bit by bit, you pull out what you need in order to cook, only sitting down when you have a moment to spare as the rice cooks.

‘Hey Boss, I’m making curry for lunch. Want me to bring you some?’

You send him a text. It’s still fairly early, and you know he has his meetings in the morning, so you doubt that he’ll get back to you before-

Your phone buzzes.

‘Chickadee, you sure know the way to my heart. I’ll leave my office window open.’

You send him a thumbs up emoji.

----

Once the food is finished, you pack it up into two containers, opting to leave the rest in the pot for now. You made lots, enough to get several meals out of it, just in case Hawks pulled his ‘too busy to cook’ excuse when trying to convince you to order take-out.

It doesn’t take long to fly to the agency, the skies much clearer than the roads. The city itself seems relatively calm, no sounds of explosions or screaming. There is a distant plume of dark smoke on the horizon, though…

But there were other heroes in the area. You wouldn’t be missed if you didn’t show up for one disaster...right?

But then you land in the window of your boss’ office, and your worry spikes. The room is empty, door closed, lights off, paperwork strewn about on the desk...like he’d run off in a hurry.

You pull your phone out and send him a text.

‘Lemme know if something came up. I brought lunch, but I can put it away for later. Stay safe!

-Chickadee’

He doesn’t reply, but that’s expected if he’s dealing with some kind of crisis. Maybe you should have headed to whatever disaster you’d seen earlier...if it was bad enough to call on your boss, it must be a pretty dire situation. Maybe he could use an extra pair of wings?

You sigh and take a seat beside the window, staring out at the city skyline. The black smoke across the way has turned to a dusty grey colour, a much less threatening hue, and one that bode well for any possible fires.

He’ll be fine, you decide, with other heroes undoubtedly on the scene. By the time you’d get there, whatever was happening would be dealt with.

You pull out your phone to scroll through the news while you eat.

Nothing urgent appears on the screen, nothing to incline that you were needed somewhere, nothing to say extra help was needed. Just day-old stories, gossip columns, the occasional media review. You do startle a little when a new article pops up that’s focused around your boss. You click on it, expecting to see some kind of haggard scene...but you only laugh.

“Hawks, most eligible bachelor in Japan, off the market?” You scroll further into the article to see what kind of nonsense the reporters have come up with this time.

What you don’t expect, is to find pictures of yourself littering the page. Pictures of you and Hawks together. On patrol, talking over lunch at a cafe he took you to one time, walking into his agency side by side, and -most recently- the two of you landing on his balcony.

You’re slightly panicked, and very, very flustered. Had he seen the column? God, he was probably used to it, though, being as popular as he was. All he had to do was look at someone and the media would start crying wolf, which in your opinion, was stupid.

Still, the more you read the article, the more you find it has some good points. You two did spend a lot of time together, more than he did with any of his other friends. But that’s all you are. Friends. Friends, and completely platonic roommates.

You weren’t sure why that made your heart sink so much.

So you copied the link to the article and sent it to him, typing a quick ‘lol’ afterwards. At the very least, he might get a laugh out of it.

----

You finish eating in record time, scarfing down a portion and a half of curry. It was lonely, sitting in Hawks’ office by yourself. You wondered if he ever felt like that when he was up here on his own. He was too busy for most things, too fast for his own good. Did that include friendships? He made time for you when he could, but you understood the busy and demanding life of a hero...other people might not.

You...understood.

The dull ache that you’ve felt in your chest for the past year returns, suddenly. The sadness and grief, the emptiness and all-encompassing tiredness, the big overhanging question of ‘what’s even the point?’. The point of being a hero, the point of suffering for the people who love you and hate you and who don’t even know you.

“Shit,” you sigh, your head and shoulders hanging low, wing dragging against the floor.

Hawks had brightened your life up so much these last few months. He’d brought the smile back to your face, the joy back to flying. You missed him when he was gone, worried for him when he was off on missions, fuck, you even cooked him lunch of your day off just so you could spend time together.

You were head over heels for him, and so totally screwed.

----

Hawks doesn’t return home until late that night. Far past your usual bedtime, but you’re far too distressed to sleep. If you hadn’t had your earlier revelation, you’d have chalked it up to ‘being worried’. But now?

Now that you knew you had feelings for him, all your thoughts were clouded. You were concerned because you liked him. You hung out with him because you liked him. Everything was because you liked him!

It was fucking with you a bit.

“What are you still doing up?” his voice sounds from the front entryway, startling you bad enough that you almost fall off the couch.

Your wide eyes snap to him, immediately taking him in. He’s worse for wear, that’s for sure. His uniform is singed in places, and you’re pretty sure the scuff on his neck is a burn. Most notably are his wings. Or lack thereof. 

Featherless red nubs is a more accurate description.

“You look like shit,” you say, keeping the air about you casual.

He makes his way over to you and finds a seat on the couch adjacent, wincing as he sits a little too quickly.

“Thanks, chickadee. You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

Your face heats up. “I-I just mean! Long day?”

He groans, letting his head fall back against the cushions. You’re vaguely aware that he’s started talking, but the only thing you can pay attention to is the narrow column of his exposed throat, and how badly you wanted to lean over and press your lips against it.

You snap out of your daze when he nudges you with his foot.

“I feel like I’m talking to a wall,” you quips, devoid of any malice.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “what were you saying?”

“I was saying that we should hang out now that I’ve got a few days off. Kick our feet up, instead of culminating in a stuffy office.”

You shake your head. “As much as I’d love to, I still have work. Remember? I was already off today, I can’t miss more days.”

He whines, looking at you with sad puppy eyes. “It’ll be boring here by myself. You make the day more fun.”

“Hawks, I can’t-”

“Keigo.”

You perk up. “Huh?”

He rearranges himself on the couch so he can look at you more comfortably. “My name is Takami Keigo. Call me Keigo when it’s just us, okay?”

You consider it. “Why not Takami? That’s polite here, right? To use the surname?”

He nods. “Unless you’re close with the person. Family, good friends, the like.”

Your wings puff up, fully betraying the fact that you’re pleased he considers you a ‘good friend’. It doesn’t go unnoticed, and a teasing grin spreads across Haw-Keigo’s face.

“See? You waaaaant to. Say it with me: Kei-”

“Keigo.”

You don’t miss the way his cheeks tinge pink.

“You got it. And now, since we’re on a first name basis, I’m asking you to take a few days off to hang out with me.”

You’re exasperated.

“C’mon chickadee.”

“No.”

“Pleeeeease?”

“No!”

“Y/N…”

“No, Keigo.”

“Alright then. Now, as your boss, I’m officially giving you three days off.”

“You can’t just do that!”

“I can!”

“Hawks!”

“Keigo.”

“Sorry. Keigo!”

His expression is cheeky as you go back and forth for a while, and he’s unrelenting even as you gently beat him with a couch pillow.

It eventually morphs into a small war, the two of you chasing each other around the apartment, wielding whatever cushions you can get your hands on. You eventually end up tripping over the coffee table, shouting as you smack your foot and fall into an ungraceful heap on your back. Keigo wastes no time pouncing on you and pinning your arms beside your head.

Your wings are splayed out on either side of you, and he’s careful not to kneel on them. Even with your foot throbbing the way it is, he knows you could easily get away if you tried. But you don’t struggle. Instead you lay there quietly, out of breath, eyes locked on his. He can feel the warmth creeping up his neck, and you can see the redness returning to his cheeks.

“I...saw the article you sent to me today,” he begins, voice low. “I’m sorry they brought you into it.”

“I don’t mind,” you admit, “I just worry it might be detrimental to you. Some of your fans will be pissed.”

“Seriously?” He sits up on your chest, releasing your wrists. “You’re not online much, are you. Most of my fans ship us.”

“The hell does that mean?”

He laughs, soft of melodious. “It means that they like the idea of us. As a couple.”

“And it doesn’t bother you?” you wonder.

“No? Why would it?”

You avert your gaze from him, your insecurities and doubts creeping in under the scrutiny of his golden eyes. “I...guess you could just...do better, is all.”

“Chickadee...Y/N, look at me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head. You feel very exposed laid out on the carpet, and you wish you’d never said anything.

A warm hand cups your cheek. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let me see those pretty eyes.”

You’re so flustered you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your heart is beating rapidly against your ribcage, and you’re positive he can see your embarrassment when you finally do as he asks.

But he only smiles gently at you, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours.

“Listen to me, and listen well. You’re the best I can do. You bring out everything good in me, and make me forget the bad. You make me happy.”

“Keigo-”

He shushes you by bringing your lips together.

[jaeminlore]

bard!taeil ^_^

commissioned by @warmau luv u thank you for giving me free reign i’m sorry i used it all on world building

words: 5k+

a/n: sorry this is a bit late ! also for any mistakes !

okay first thought when given free reign of a story is PRINCE or ROYAL bc that is where my mind is for every story i love a good castle moment

i just think they’re neat ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

but yknow i was thinking about bards and also my skyrim game and how annoying yet precious the bards are in the inn. and if that is not taeil i will eat my own foot,,,,, like omg i forgot his name i think it’s mikael?? he’s at the inn in riften!!! i beat him up to preserve the honor of some lady and now we’re best friends ^_^ anyways he’s lovable and it makes me think of taeil

i miss taeil i read a post about how precious he is and it made me feel some type of way ,,,,, my favorite taeil era was cherry bomb bc the CHOKER and the EYELINER and he just felt like the embodiment of that tiktok sparkly filter

okay now that that’s over

this story is set in a lone kingdom called intima,,,, intima is a word meaning the heart of something and it’s where the word intimacy comes from and it makes me feel warm and happy so i assume it will make the people of intima happy too !!!!! it’s an island centered around the sun — and YOU my dear reader are the eldest princess, the first before six younger siblings !!!

as the oldest, the throne is in your future, and you are set to be the reigning queen WHICH you are quite excited about this isn’t one of those aus where you hate your kingdom and your job and serving,, you LOVE your people and your culture and you genuinely can’t wait to become queen

i’m going to set the world!!!! bc world-building gives me endorphins >.>

intima is a HEAVILY floral-filled island. the clivia (or bush lily) is the capitol flower, often associated with patriotism or pride for intima as an island!!! it’s the flower people pin to their chest during coronations or royal festivals!! and the yellow/orange/coral shades are often what you and your siblings wear to represent yourselves and your island.

intima is a land of equality!!! bc i said so!! and also because the culture is purely built on gratitude and kindness ,,,,, i like to think the spirituality or “religion” in the culture is the worship of the sun and the warmth it brings,,,, a sort of serving the thing that shines a path for the hopeless!!!! there are hundreds of poems and legends and songs about the sun and who she once was and why she blesses intima with her harvests and all kinds of other things and i do have the time to get into it but i know all of you do not

intima also believes that art is hard work!!! and it’s one of the most respected jobs there are!!! like a busker or a street painter are often praised and it’s expected of islanders to tip them and stay to praise them a bit!!! and usually they’ll sell their art (if that’s what they made) afterwards!!!! and poets will read for the children and adults alike and they’ll sell their services to like,,, people who struggle to put their words down on paper and it’s all very helpful and lovely

farmers and fishermen are well respected as well!!!! ofc they bring the food in and the vendors at the marketplace sell them while the artists keep entertainment going. it’s a lovely system and often as the seasons change people will shift their jobs so a vendor will decide to create for a season or a fisherman may decide he wants to sell wares,,, it’s a system so that people can enjoy where they are as well as express they’re creativity properly

and the wealth is distributed equally so that no one goes hungry!!! everyone helps each other out to find a job that fits them!!! and not many people take advantage of the system because it’s quite shameful to refuse helping your fellow neighbor

so yes!!! kindness and helping each other out is not only expected but it is often an indicator of how respected you are as a member of society

ungrateful people get the shame cone >:(

the island is HUGE and set in a sort of jagged star shape, with villages and markets surrounding the castle itself!!! and there’s a moat surrounding the castle made from the streams that trail in from the sea ,,,, and the harbors are quite beautiful if you stand atop the castle walls you can see the ships come and go and it is just *chef’s kiss* immaculate

and the moat is so beautiful i can just imagine the ferns!! like palm brush ferns and tiger lilies and birds of paradise just lining either side of the moat,,, so pretty :( and the moat isn’t to keep people out!!! it’s actually a natural pool for the villagers when it gets too hot :)!! but otherwise the drawbridge is always down so people can come and go throughout the courtyards

similarly, the castle walls run down the island as main roads, leading to the actual castle where the main courtyard sits.

you and your siblings are very personal with your subjects, and it’s not uncommon for the princes and princesses to walk hand in hand with those of a lower class than them,,,, esp bc there isn’t really a class system in place. since wealth is evenly distributed,,,, it’s evenly distributed to the royals as well, and everyone lives comfortably. the only added expense are gifts!!! so if there’s a birthday or something more wealth might be offered to the recipients by default

the courtyards!!! are so beautiful!!! there are four in total but the one i want to focus on is the coronation courtyard!!! this is the courtyard where the coronations and celebrations are held!!!

but when there aren’t any coronations, it’s where people hang out to have picnics or sell their wares or tell stories!!!

and this is where we see taeil!!!!

every day our hero brings his life and ~sings~ a different story to whoever happens to be walking by. he’s actually hugely popular with many of intima’s people,,,, mostly because his voice is like HONEY and his smile reminds everyone of home

he has like,,,,, kind big brother who only comes home for thanksgiving but each time is more memory-filled than the last energy ,,,,, anyways

you don’t actually notice him at first!!! because usually he isn’t in the coronation courtyard.

also you’re too busy planning your OWN coronation

#queenshit and all you know the vibes

it actually isn’t until yuta points out that there is a “very tiny man singing about how beautiful you are” in the courtyard that you’re actually like,,,, okay,,,,,, interesting..?

and at first you’re like shut up yuta i’m trying to work on seating placements you know ten from iacto can’t sit beside donghyuck from stella or they’ll start a prank war during MY coronation

also there are a lot of people who write songs about you and your siblings that’s just how the vibes are !!!!!

you and your siblings are known for your beauty and kindness, so many creatives often use y’all as muses

so you just brush it off

and go back to your planning

which actually consists of you begging your advisors to make little goodie bags for everyone on the entire island (they WILL eventually agree because who doesn’t want a small bee charm necklace or some cleansing crystals)

but i digress

it’s not until you visit the courtyard to finalize the seating arrangements that you actually see the man your brother was talking about

at first you don’t even realize it’s the same person

sure, this man is short, but he is nothing like the unattractie picture you painted in your mind. not that short men are unattractive, but most men who hit on you are often uhhhh creepy and old bc intima is a beautiful place but men are still a disease

this man is, dare you say it, handsome.

like prettily handsome

his hair is a warm chestnut that falls over his eyebrows in loose curls. strands curl and bend around his ears and his eyes are lined with what seems like kohl

his lips are pursed, and he’s too far away for you to hear him, but he seems to be singing

you tear your eyes away from his coral-colored jerkin and try to focus on the seating arrangements

in the end, you leave the work to your advisors, choosing to break away and listen to the lonesome bard

and just IMAGINE for a moment taeil singing like real people do by hozier

just taeil singing any hozier song i cannot get over the thought of it >_>

those are the vibes for this story

taeil a sexy irish bog man

not really but i’ll bookmark the idea for later !!!!

okay so imagine him singing real people do or sunshine and it’s so gentle and warm coming from his mouth that you’re entranced at the very start of it,,,, you’ve heard tales of sirens luring sailors into the sea,,, and they’ve always sounded quite far fetched but now that you’re hearing taeil’s voice you’re like,,,,,, maybe it’s possible

you sidle up to another listener and ask for his name

“taeil moon”

it’s a befitting name. you run it over your tongue for a good while until it feels familiar,,, and when the song is finally over, you clap and shout a few praises, thinking your voice would get caught in the crowd

but taeil catches your gaze, and he strums a sour note on his lute. it’s a swift apology and an even swifter exit as he leaves the courtyard.

you watch him go, unsure as to why he seemed so uncomfortable knowing you were there. “is he alright?” you ask the same listener who told you taeil’s name. they answer, “he’s never left a set before. perhaps you frightened him, princess.”

you DID frighten him. moving into taeil’s point of view, the man has been declaring his infatuation with you for months now and you’ve never come to listen. he suddenly feels naked and vulnerable,,, the one person he chose to write songs about is the future queen and he could very well be executed for such unauthorized poetry

(as if executing is something intima didn’t outlaw ages ago)

so taeil is just a tiny bit dramatic, and he clings to the honest hope that you came to his show late and didn’t hear his declaration. his “all my love songs of now and forever after are for the princess y/n” that he starts every set with. he feels like a fool, so he finds himself hiding in the royal gardens, far behind the brush and hedges, where a lone forgotten fountain rusts. still water bubbles out of the spout, but there isn’t enough for the fountain to actually flow, so it just makes an incredibly awkward gurgling sound as taeil strums his lute and tries to collect his thoughts

taeil doesn’t just like you because you’re the princess. it goes so much deeper than that; he has one faint memory of his graduation out of bards college (it’s a thing in skyrim so it’s a thing in my au) and it consists of you meeting with all of the graduates and giving them each a bush lily from your own personal garden,,,,,,, you also wrote everyone a handwritten letter addressing them by name !!!!!!!!!

and it’s not much to go by at all, and taeil would feel incredibly foolish even bringing up the memory, or the fact that he keeps the card in his memeriy box,,,,, because it’s obvious that you don’t remember him from it, but he can still remember the color of your eyes up close, and he knows what it feels like to be on the receiving end of your smile,, and just the memory of your fingers grazing his when you handed him the flower and card makes his cheeks warm with childlike fondness

he’s a fool, he knows. he’s also a coward, because he ran at the very sight of you

“you ran off before i could tell you how lovely your voice is.”

taeil falls into the rusting fountain as soon as you round the hedge. he has no idea how you managed to find him, but he can’t really think much about it because he’s soon coughing and shivering from the cold and dirty water he’s just fallen into. he mourns his lute,,,,,, just floating in the shallow water ,,,,,, it’s not dead it’s just wet :/

“oh dear i’m so sorry!” you grab his hand and help him out of the fountain, wincing at the way his clothes cling to his body. (Wait. wait. taeil’s lil baby tummy.... through the sheer shirt,,,,,,, like after he takes off his jerkin to dry it out :(((( omg he’s so cute) “i just wanted to compliment you.”

“thank you, princess,” taeil manages to get out. he paints a smile on his face even though he feels like he’s never been put in a more awkward situation. “it means a lot, honestly.” he decides to avoid the topic of having a crush on you, because he thinks he has experienced plenty of embarrassing moments today, thank you very much. so he changes the topic completely. “good luck, uh, on your coronation. i’m looking forward to it.”

you lower yourself into a mock curtsy. “why thank you. save me a dance during the after party, won’t you?”

taeil nods, not trusting himself to speak, and you bid him goodbye

y’all know taeil’s face where he’s just cheesin. like :D

that’s his face for the rest of the day. and every day up until the coronation !!!!!!

and you visit him!!!! when you can !!!!!!!!

taeil has a very easygoing personality i feel like after the initial awkwardness he’d actually be the one to initiate a friendship!!! like sometimes he leaves you letters by the old fountain !!!!!! :((((

and taeil’s letters are very friendly but every once in awhile he’ll slip in song lyrics that make your heart flutter!!!! just imagine your favorite love song or folk song written out by taeil to you because he learned it and it made him think of you :(( i’m crying and i know you’re crying

one day you have a picnic!!!!!!!!! and it’s just the two of you and taeil thinks he should be nervous but he genuinely does enjoy your company,,,,, and he kinda sort of slowly starts to think of you less as a muse and more as a friend,,,,,, or even maybe a potential ,,,,,,,,, l o v e r oooohhhhhhhh,,,, omg it’s so cute tho he lays out a blanket in front of the fountain and the two of you eat sandwiches and apple juice and :(( eventually the sun makes you both a lil tired so you fall asleep side by side

and you get kind of flustered when you wake up beside taeil like oh 😳 okay 😳 now 😳

the two of you hang around each other in secret. not because it’s against the law or it would be publicized or anything like that,,,, intima is a very casual island and no one would bother the two of you too much,,,,,,,,, but taeil feels like a little secret you aren’t sure you want to share ,,, also your brothers and sisters would tease you relentlessly for giving your time to someone KNOWN for singing love songs about you

your friendship w taeil feels a bit like a bird feather on a windy day,,,,,,, like one hesitant breath could blow him away,,,,,,,, but taeil is so FUNNY and warm and gentle and COMFORTABLE that you slowly start to feel yourself fall for him.

taeil is a story-telling bard in the way that the songs he sings often tell stories of his life or the life of someone famous, installed in their hearts from the moment they were all in elementary school. like imagine him singing a tale about the greek gods or norse mythology or perhaps he goes and bit more fairytale and songs of thumbalina or sleeping beauty

he’s an amazing storyteller, so much so that when the two of you hang out, he often recites some form of verse to you, especially if it’s a legend you love dearly (SIRENS) ,,,,,, but the one thing that kind of irritates you is that he has yet to sing you one of his legendary songs that are “supposedly” for you

you’re not trying to be prideful, but this is the lovely singer everyone has told you about, and you still haven’t heard any of his original songs. or at least, his original songs dedicated to you. you’re very curious to see what you look like in taeil’s eyes, even though it might make you feel horribly vulnerable.

and taeil is like :) obviously :) i’m not going to sing love songs :) about my crush :) to my crush :)

but it’s whatever.

what i want to talk about is the coronation babey !!!!!!!!!!!

it’s very public,,, in the middle of the courtyard,,, and all the market stalls are up selling their wares to the large crowd!!!!! and kids are playing in the moat !!!!! sort of a summer festival and you’re the main event lol. like some people will gather and watch the coronation and some people will be off dancing on the other side of the courtyard but everyone is celebrating the same thing!!

and this is a high fantasy setting so there aren’t any modern things like microphones or speakers aside from a copper horn or smth ,,, but it’s all very fun and festive!!!!

merchants are selling banners of orange and gold,,, yellow roses and tiger lilies,,,,,,, flower crowns and faux scepters for the little kids!!!!!! and there’s lively music for people to dance and celebrate to,,,,,, and can you guess who is in charge of the music !!!!?! TAEIL

he’s got an entire band leading the courtyard and it’s all traditional songs for the most part of taeil is able to slip in a few love songs now and again. and ofc everyone loves them bc they know taeil and OBV it’s hard to hate taeil

but :( you aren’t really focusing on the music since it’s such a big day for you but if you were you’d know that taeil is singing his original songs :((( all the love songs about you,,,,,,,,,,

and i SWEAR i can imagine taeil singing hozier-esque songs..... omg or like mystery of love ,,,,, imagine him singing mystery of love on one side of the courtyard while you’re getting crowned queen on the other side

that image is something that can be so personal to me ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

:(((( and you’re dressed in a tan and peach maiden dress,,,, cloaked in golden silk with day lilies tucked in your hair,,,,,,,,, omg or BRAIDED into your hair,,,,,, you just look like a sun goddess okay golden by harry styles are the vibes ALRIGHT babes,,,, and there’s a speech to be made and someone made cake for the masses,,, so you get a bit caught up it everything

taeil isn’t really in the crowd for the coronation as i already stated before ,,,,, but he can kind of hear everything that’s happening and it makes him just smile to himself as he messes with his lute :((( omg if you guys haven’t heard you are gold by the national parks THATS the song taeil sings as the celebrations are dying down

and all the street lanterns are lit and people are quieting down and eating or chatting or rounding up their kids for bedtime !! omg little kids racing past and giggling, their flower crowns askew as they shout about becoming a queen one day :( that’s so cute esp to imagine taeil watching them fondling and waving at them as they pass

and there are fireflies all around!!!! lighting the pathway!!! it’s just so cute and soft and lovely think tangled at last i see the light scene OKAY except it’s not on water it’s a festival and it’s beautiful every seems to be glowing in the light

this au is partially inspired by tangled,,, or the kingdom of corona (lol) so

anyways back to you are gold

the chorus is as so: “you are gold / you are all i see / you are aurum scarce and meant for kings / and i will wait if it’s time you need / what i see in you i hope you find in me.”

and can’t you just SEE taeil singing that absentmindedly not really knowing that you’re making your way to him and then he just looks up during the final chords and he just,,,,,,, fumbles the music and his voice cracks a little (but how COULDNT it bc you’re so beautiful and angelic and taeil could easily picture the stars against your skin and in the shade of your eyes)

“h-hi,” he stutters. “you look. nice.” :D

i think taeil is pretty confident with his feelings but i also feel like he can be quite clumsy with them as well. if that makes sense. but on the other hand confessing to the now-queen of your island is a bit much and taeil isn’t really ready to be rejected on a regal level.

“thank you,” you say. AND!!! you can feel your cheeks get hot because taeil is quite handsome and you DEFINITELY heard the last few lyrics of the song and it ignited feelings inside of you that you weren’t sure you’ve felt much of before.

you kind of just want to take his hand and go spend some ~ alone time ~ with him ^_^

“you know,” you sit down beside him and wrap your cloak around yourself. “everyone has been telling me that you’re quite famous for dedicating your love songs to me. how come i haven’t heard such declarations?”

taeil’s ears turn red and he smiles down at the lute in his lap. “isn’t it a bit disrespectful to make you listen to all the songs i write for you?”

“i want to hear them!! genuinely!!”

can you just IMAGINE taeil holding eye contact and singing sunshine by hozier >:( or like ANY song by ray montangue for today we’re pretending taeil wrote all of these

hold you in my arms by ray montangue YOO :((

just taeil strumming and singing sort of under his breath because he doesn’t really want anyone else to share this lil moment with you. and he’s so sweet like i imagine after he sings he doesn’t expect any praise and he certainly doesn’t expect you to confess your love or anything like that

bc taeil is a respectful future king

LIKE JUST IMAGINE kind of grabbing his face and just giving him a lil kiss,,,,, a lil smooch,,,,, if you will

taeil is probably rlly pretty just after being kissed like his eyelashes would flutter so prettily and it would be so soft like he’d just press his forehead against yours and then omg a FOREHEAD KISS like a really gentle one

you would be so important to taeil like i think he would just be so gentle with you in every way

the relationship is a slower one,,,,,, you have queenly duties and he’s still working as a busker,,,,, getting ready to help the merchants in the winter,,,,,,,

but the two of you make time. it’s similar to before, you just set up picnics, or sometimes you watch him sing, and he’ll write you love songs and send them to you through a letter,, stamping with purple wax,,,

and taeil is always so sweet :( i think he’s more of a casual lover in the sense that he doesn’t need pda or loud declarations in order to make you feel loved flashback to him dedicating every love song to you in the middle of the square but he’d be the type to just hold your hand around the courtyard,, or he’d just send you soft smiles from the other side of the marketplace

he’s the time to buy you a basket of your favorite fruits and deliver them personally to your door

everyone in the castle just lets taeil into the chambers section at this point

the two of you will swim in the moat and play hopscotch with the village children or go shopping together or take naps beneath the afternoon sun and with taeil by your side it’s all so fond and precious and some times you’ll go days or weeks without seeing him just because of schedules but it’s never awkward when the two of you get back together

and it’s actually not until some of your very own villagers are coming up to you like hey,,,,, why haven’t you made taeil your partner yet?? he’s so precious and sweet and he would look lovely in a crown 👀👀

and uhhh who are you to argue with that lmao

so you buy taeil a ring

a pearl !!!! encased in silver <3333 i like to think that the tales he sang to you about sirens often slides to a pearl of some sorts,, so you make sure it’s the rock you place on the ring

and you take him back to that rusty old creaky old ugly old fountain :)

and you just,,,,,, ask him to marry you ,,,,,,,,,,

ofc taeil says yes, a bit frozen because the two of you have talked about marriage but only briefly,,, and he wasn’t sure you’d ever take that step so he didn’t want to pressure you

taeil ofc has always been ready,,, his soul is more open than yours if that makes sense !!! which isn’t a bad thing but he has definitely been ready for a lifetime with you for a long time now

and it’s a long-ish engagement i feel like

not that it really matters but it’s more of a betrothement !!!! so the two of you are technically already married even before the ceremony if that makes sense??? like everyone alludes to taeil as the consort and the two of you live together and receive gifts of betrothement and !!! it’s quite sweet and it’s the way they do things in intima

also you guys aren’t in a big hurry for another ceremony esp bc yuta’s coronation is coming up and you don’t want to take any of his spotlight

king!yuta hold up

but yeah taeil is a wonderful consort !! doesn’t do much yet politically bc he isn’t especially versed in politics but he’s learning!!! he’s really good at keeping a good energy in the room even if two ambassadors are fighting taeil will just be vibing like :-D and it often calms tensions

he’s just a GREAT person and a helpful ruler even tho he really doesn’t even have to be,,,, he’s just a consort,,,, but he still takes the effort to learn genuine laws and help guide the people

the people are obviously obsessed with him,,, they wouldn’t ask for another consort because he’s so kind with all of them

still sings in the courtyard as his job ,,, and the people love it just as much ^_^ esp because now all the songs are openly for you and about you and it makes people more fond of you as well

taeil creates y/n propaganda pass it on

but he works in the castle too,, and he’s a fast learner especially when it comes to settling arguements within the village or even within the court,,,, he also sets up festivals !! he’s wonderful at it !! genuinely !! taeil as an interior designer i can just see it man him designing flower arrangements and the setlist and just !! being a wonderful host

and tbh you’re very thankful because it’s nice to rule with siblings but it’s even nicer to rule with a soulmate

and taeil feels just like that — a soulmate, a missing piece of the puzzle,,,,,

and if intima is the sun , if you who rules it is the sun, then taeil is the moon,, and it’s quite obvious that the two of you were made for each other

perhaps in the future the two of you will have kids or adopt

or you guys get a puppy!!! i can see you w a puppy and taeil with a kitten and the two lil pets just follow you guys around omg

the two of you fix up the old fountain so it isn’t rusty or squeaky anymore

you guys find rocks out on the shore and create a new bed at the bottom of the fountain

and guess what!!!! you guys write little wishes on the rocks and invite everyone else to do the same with the idea that once the fountain is filled with wishes, you’ll hold a festival where you put the wishes back into the sea to be completed

omg how cute would that be like a yearly thing where the fountain would be filled with rocks and everyone gets a handful to take down to the beach and throw into the sea

it’s where lovers write their names and people confess to their crushes and anniversaries and birthdays are celebrated and it’s where artists write pictures and poets write verses and people write prayers to the sun

and it’s where you and taeil announce your first pregnancy >.<

and it’s really soft

the place between the sea and the sun is where your love lies

where your family lives

omg taeil singing lullabies to his baby :( HES be such a sweet dad

i feel like taeil already has a family just by his vibes yknow

but say it’s a daughter he’d teach her how to play the lute and he’d buy her her own

he’d let her express herself in any way and identify however she’d want and love whoever she wanted

he’d be an AMAZING father and husband and king

ANYWAYS to conclude

this was fun to write and i hope it made sense i know it’s all over the place but in conclusion taeil is sexy and deserves to be loved

[loverspersonas]

the most beautiful moment in life | iv

pairing: ot7? x reader

genre: hyyh au, high school au, angst, drama, fluff, smut?

length: 5.2k

summary: Eight strangers with different stories happen to meet one day, by fate or some kind of cruel, exquisite happenstance, and realize that they’re not as different as they thought.

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It was only the first half of the day, and you were already mentally tired. Your classes had a lot of new content but for some reason, you were having trouble paying attention. Maybe it was the dream you’d had, a reminder of a memory that you still couldn’t seem to shake, and the fact that you’d had the same one multiple times. Or maybe it was the events of the previous night, how you and the seven boys had found their way to each other again. Almost like it was fate. Who knew, though? Maybe it was. 

But it had you wondering, why specifically the eight of you?

“Y/N, are you listening?”

You blinked. “Yeah. Sorry, I just spaced for second.”

Sana frowned slightly but returned to searching the line of books on the shelf. The two of you were in the library since she had a research assignment to start. “You seem to be doing that often. Everything okay?”

You shrugged. “I guess. My mom and I kind of had another argument.”

“What about?”

“The usual,” you replied, scoffing. You’d gotten back home late last night and had to sneak back into your room to avoid conversation. By morning, she was gone for work, so that hadn’t been a problem. “I just can’t believe how ignorant she is to everything. Like why can’t she just admit that she’s wrong?”

“That’s adults for you.” She hesitated. “But to play devil’s advocate, I can see why she might be worried. She didn’t have to hear about your detention to know that things haven’t been the same for a while now.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, drawing out a breath instead of snapping back like your first instinct was. “She doesn’t talk about what happened that night, you know. It’s almost like she wants to pretend it never happened.” 

Sana looked at you, eyes filled with sympathy. “I wonder why she would want to do that.” Before you could ask what she meant by that, she grabbed a hardcover book from the shelf. “I’ll be right back.”

You watched her disappear around the corner as you leaned you back against the shelf. Across from you, through the gaps on the shelf where there weren’t any books, you thought you noticed a familiar face. 

“Namjoon?” you said, uncertain.

He looked up, surprised to hear his name and even more to see that it had been you to say it. “Oh, Y/N.”

You moved around to the aisle he was in, busy flipping through pages of a book. “What are you doing? Wait, don’t answer that. Why wouldn’t you be here?”

He looked like he was refraining from rolling his eyes. “I don’t appreciate your usage of stereotypes.”

“Hey, my basis is on facts only.”

By the twitch of his mouth, you knew he was amused rather than offended. “Fine. So, then what are you doing here?”

You folded your arms over your chest. “Accompanying a friend.”

He nodded. “Makes sense. Also referring to facts, this isn’t really where you prefer to spend a lot of your time, is it?”

“I guess not.” You shrugged. You weren’t offended, because as a former cheerleader and part of the academy’s swim team, you didn’t have a lot of free time during the day. Having to finish your assignments and get studying done was done in those less often breaks in between and at home. “Not everyone is as intellectual as you,” you said jokingly.

“You don’t have to be intellectual to come here,” he argued. The way he looked down at his book at your comment showed that he wasn’t pretentious or obnoxious about his talents. He knew he was smart, but he didn’t let it get to his head, and you kind of admired that. “You can just like reading. Or quiet.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not as quiet in here as it used to be,” you said. “The debate team likes to have group meetings in the study rooms, and the walls just aren’t soundproof enough.”

Namjoon sighed. “You’re telling me. The other day, I had to listen to a whole rant on the dangers of cell phones use in schools. The guy had way too much passion for a topic like that.”

You smiled slightly. “How come you aren’t on the debate team?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I was part of the Academy’s newspaper, the academic decathlon, the mathletes, and even a book club… I don’t have a lot of time anymore, I guess.”

You tilted your head, studying the way he averted his gaze, returning to scanning the spines of book titles. There was something more there that he didn’t want to talk about. And you wouldn’t pry either.

“I get that,” you said at last. “I didn’t actually realize how stressed I was last year until now when I don’t have as many extracurriculars.”

“You were stressed?” Namjoon asked in disbelief. “That’s the last thing I would’ve thought you were.”

You frowned slightly. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He gave a small shrug. “None of you ever seemed like that. You always… looked like you were having the time of your life.”

His words seemed to transport you mentally back to the previous year. Maybe there were a lot of instances where you were having fun, acting like a carefree teenager with no worries. But at the same time, now that you were able to look back, you weren’t sure if all those times were always genuine. And of course, the latter part of the year was when everything had started to change, when the things you used to love started to make you miserable. 

“I guess it seemed that way,” you spoke, seeming a little far away as you stared off into the space. “It’s weird, because everything seems a lot slower now. Like the past few years were so fast paced and I was only ever trying to keep up. I think I’m more relaxed now… if that makes sense.”

A second later, you felt like you’d said something dumb or you’d overshared, but when Namjoon finally spoke, the tension melted away. “I think it does. I mean, I might not know exactly how you felt before, but… it’s completely valid.”

You pressed your lips together, sighing. “Thanks for saying what I wanted to hear.”

“It’s not just what you want to hear, it’s also the truth.”

You looked up at him, half curious and half with a slight smile. “I get it now.”

He raised a brow. “Get what?”

“Why teachers love you. You’re good with words. Is that how you manipulate them into falling for your every request?”

“Hey.” He looked like he was ready to throw the book he was holding at you.

You moved your hands to cover your face. “No, please, not a hardcover.”

He let out a sigh eventually, like he couldn’t believe what he was dealing with. But as you started to laugh, you could see that he was holding back his own.

“Y/N, you ready to go?” Sana asked. She stopped near the front of the aisle, doing a double take when she saw the boy with you. Her eyebrows furrowed in your direction as though questioning what she was seeing.

“Yeah,” you answered after a few second, standing up straight. You nodded at Namjoon. “I’ll see you later.”

“What was that about?” Sana asked as you were leaving the library.

“Oh, that was Namjoon—“

“I know who he is. I just meant, why you were talking. Are you guys friends or something?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know the answer to that. Were any of you really friends? You forced a chuckle. “Please. I don’t have any friends.”

She jabbed you in the stomach with her elbow. 

You winced and hurriedly added, “Except for you. Although with how physically violent you’ve recently gotten, I’m beginning to question this friendship.”

It was one of your free periods and you decided to go to the library to catch up on work. The hallways were mostly empty at this time since everyone was either in class or ditching class, so you were a little caught off guard when someone bumped into you.

“Sorry,” you began to apologize until you actually got a good look at the person.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Y/N,” Yuna spoke. Everything about her was as immaculate as always, from her sleek black hair down to her red acrylic nails. The way she was looking at you was different from how it once used to be. It was condescending now, in a way it hadn’t ever been so overt.

For a second, you felt like you were frozen or your throat had dried up. This was something you’d been avoiding since the beginning of the year; you hadn’t been prepared. But you managed to from a sentence without wavering. “I guess it has.”

Yuna folded her arms across her chest. “I want to say the cheerleading team misses you—“

“But you don’t,” you finished, not allowing yourself to sound angry or upset because that was what she wanted. “You never liked having me on the team. You always did hate the idea of sharing the spotlight.”

“It was always yours,” she said sharply. “It was always ever yours.”

“What are you talking about?”

She shook her head, like she couldn’t believe you. “It wasn’t even just concerning cheer, but with teachers, academics… even all our friends seemed to choose you. I was just your understudy.”

“The world isn’t a stage, Yuna,” you said. Maybe before you would’ve felt bad after hearing that, but you were tired of listening to her victimize herself about things that were so insignificant in the big picture, things that she was just distorting. “And it doesn’t revolve around you or me.”

“Then why did it always feel that way?” she cried. “What makes you better than me?”

You released a breath. “I don’t know, Yuna.” And it was the truth, because never once did you think you were better than her. Not in any way that mattered, at least.

She stared at you with eyes welling up with anger. “You thought that, too, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t—“

“You were the princess of Sky.” She smiled a bitter smile. “Everyone loved you. Because everything about you seemed so good and nice and… perfect. But they never saw the truth. That you were fake underneath it all.”

You involuntarily flinched at the harshness in her words. You weren’t too surprised by the resentment she must’ve held, but you supposed you could never be ready to hear such things. 

“It was just a matter of time for them to find out the truth about you.”

At this, your fists clenched at your sides. You could only relax when you felt your nails dig hard into your palms, the sensation bringing you back to reality. Only after summoning up some courage could you look up at her. “You were glad to help spread that, weren’t you?”

“It’s not like any of it was a lie.” 

You couldn’t believe how she could be so heartless about something that had been the worst moment of your life. But you didn’t have to stand around and listen to it. “Enjoy the crown, Yuna. It was what you wanted all this time anyway.”

“Hey!” she yelled after she got to process what you said, when you were already making your way away from her. “Don’t walk away from me!”

You turned around to the next hallway, aware of the sound of Yuna’s heels following after you, but you couldn’t do a minute more of talking to her. The fact that you’d pulled off that conversation with a straight face and without your emotions getting the best of you was very shocking.

From the corner of your eye, you found a door on your right and didn’t think twice before opening it. Leaning against the back of the door, you waited until there was no sound of Yuna outside before releasing the breath you were holding.

“What monster were you being chased by?”

You jumped in your spot, hand going toward your chest to feel your heart racing. Then you turned to glare at the boy who’d startled you. “What the hell? Were you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Taehyung shrugged, like that proposition wasn’t so bothering. It was only then that you realized you’d walked into the storage room, now looking nothing like the abandoned storage room it had been in the beginning of the week. It looked more like a common room than a classroom with how the eight of you had arranged it. 

“What are you doing here anyway?”

Taehyung glanced at you from the corner of his eye. He was using his phone, sprawled over the old sofa in the middle of the room. “Are you really asking me that when you’re the one who interrupted me?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not your room, last I checked.” If you’d had a part in cleaning and revamping this place, you had as much of a right to be there as he did.

“Fine,” he said. “I didn’t feel like going to class.”

“And you wonder why you’re failing half of your classes,” you mumbled to yourself.

His head turned to you, eyes narrowing. “So, then what is the princess doing here? Who’re you hiding from?”

You folded your arms over your chest defiantly. “What makes you think I’m hiding from someone?”

His expression was mildly amused. “I saw you come in here. And I know what someone looks like when they’re hiding.”

“Please, I have nothing to—“

“Y/N! Where the hell are you?”

You outwardly winced at Yuna’s screeching just as Taehyung smirked. “Ah, so that’s why you’re hiding.”

“I’m not hiding,” you practically snapped out of irritation.

He stood up then. “Okay, then you’ll have no problem with this. Hey, Yuna! She’s in—“

“No, wait!” You rushed towards him, covering his mouth with your hand. He protested at first, but his voice was muffled and besides, you could hardly pay attention to that as you anxiously glanced at the door. Only when you were sure Yuna hadn’t heard you and was out of the vicinity, did you relax.

“Um, Y/N?” Taehyung said as he slowly removed your hand so he could speak. “You want to get off of me?”

“What?” Then you realized that you’d been too worried about being found by Yuna, you didn’t realize you’d pushed Taehyung back onto the sofa, one hand still on his shoulder and practically sitting over him. “Oh, sorry.” Hurriedly, you pushed yourself off of him and turned your face away in case the mild embarrassment was showing.

Taehyung’s previous awkwardness seemed to have disappeared. “Hey, it’s no big deal. But maybe buy me lunch first next time.”

Just like that, the blush in your cheeks was gone, and you scoffed. “This was not my fault. You’re the one who was going to get me caught.”

“And you’re the one who said you weren’t hiding.”

You wanted to retort to that, but instead made an exasperated sound. From what you thought you knew about the boy, you didn’t think he’d be this insufferable. 

There was the faintest grin playing on his lips, like he could tell how much he was starting to get on your nerves, and that only made you more annoyed. “Why are you hiding from Yuna, anyway? I thought you guys were friends.”

Best friends, you added in your head. Or at least, that was what you were supposed to have been. Clearing your throat slightly, you moved to sit on the sofa, at a small distance from him. “Yeah… we were.”

Taehyung snorted. “No friends I know talk to each other the was she was talking to you just five minutes ago.”

“You heard that?” you asked sheepishly after a moment.

“It’s not like I was trying to. But when you’re yelling in an empty hallway, someone’s bound to hear you.” You gave this a shake of your head in agreement before he surprised you with what he said next. “Why are you so scared of her?” 

You forced a scoff, because there was no way you could show that you were intimidated by a girl like that. “I’m not scared. I just don’t want to see her. There’s a difference.” 

He hummed. “So, running through the hall, desperately looking for some place to hide doesn’t qualify as afraid? All right then.”

You stared at him, that same twinge of annoyance passing through you. It was the way he spoke so nonchalantly about everything, like he’d never heard the word tact before. But at the same time, it evoked you, made you want to speak up for yourself. “Fine,” you admitted. “Maybe I was hiding. I mean, I know that I can’t avoid her for the rest of my life. I guess I wasn’t ever going to be ready to face her again.”

You felt the sofa move as Taehyung shifted in his spot, straightening up the way someone did when they were interested in listening. “You make her sound like she’s this big bad villain. I always thought the worst she could be was the ugly stepsister.”

A laugh left your throat, shooting him a weird and amused look. Never had you heard anyone refer to Yuna as that. She had to be one of the prettiest girls you’d seen, like she could very well be in the modelling industry. Being next to her all the time had you feeling insecure of yourself sometimes.

“Harmless,” Taehyung elaborated. “And extremely irritating at best.”

You nodded, laughter abating now. “Irritating for sure. Harmless… not so much.” You played with the rings on your fingers as you spoke. “It’s kind of… complicated.” You looked down at the floor, sensing his eyes on you, awaiting a further explanation.

“Look, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” he said finally. “But you know, you might feel better after talking about it.” 

You looked at him out of surprise. Of course, you didn’t expect anything thoughtful like that to come out of his mouth, especially not from the impression he’d given you. 

He shrugged. “That’s what my therapist used to say, at least. I didn’t really believe it."

If you thought you couldn’t be more surprised, you were wrong. “You have a therapist?”

“I did,” he answered, and you were vaguely aware of the shift in his demeanour into something a little uncomfortable. “It was a long time ago.”

You bit your lip, not knowing what to say at first. It seemed normal to be taken aback by a confession like that. You wouldn’t tell just anyone something personal, but then Taehyung seemed different. Maybe he was carefree in the sense that he didn’t care much of what other people thought. You found yourself wishing you could do the same.

“It’s not the exact same thing,” you spoke, sensing him shift to look at you. “I’ve talked to the guidance counsellor a few times.”

“Mrs Oh?”

“Have you spoken to her, too?” you asked, curious.

“Yeah… a while ago.” He hesitated. “What did Yuna mean when she called you fake?”

That made you laugh, but nothing inside you felt the same. Finally, you gave out a sigh, like you were tired. And maybe you were. You’d been keeping so much to yourself for such a long time, it only made sense you were tired of it. Was it better to confide in someone you knew or someone you barely knew? “When you like being at the top, everyone around you is competition.”

“Is that what you were to her?”

You remembered when you’d first met Yuna back when you were children, colouring in drawings with crayons and playing tag on the playground. It had been an innocent friendship then, made by chance, but the two of you had been inseparable for a long time. When did it all change for her? When did it become fake? Was it when you’d gone off to high school? Or when you’d both joined the cheerleading team? You didn’t know the precise moment, but you feel like you should’ve known.

“I think,” you said slowly, “that she was just waiting for a reason to cut me off.”

And maybe you’d given her more than enough. There the situation with Min-hyuk, drama in the group, cheerleading, and of course, the incident on the night of June 7th. It felt like there were so many factors to it. One might’ve just been a catalyst to set everything in motion. You were pretty sure of which that was.

You cleared your throat, not giving the chance to ask anything further. “Anyway, it’s done. I don’t—I don’t want to talk about it.” Your message was clear: you weren’t as much of strangers as you used to be, but that didn’t mean you had to start sharing your life story.

“I think,” Taehyung said, almost slowly like he was trying to carefully construct his words, “that cutting off toxic people from your life is never easy. A lot of the time, you don’t even realize how toxic they are until they’ve already hurt you. But you should be glad that it’s done.”

You supposed you didn’t think you needed to hear that until now. “I do feel… relieved, in a way.” Another thought hit you, and you turned to look at him. “What you said just now… have you ever had a relationship like that?”

He gave a quiet, humourless chuckle, not quite meeting your eyes. That was enough of an answer for you. It made you feel sad for him, and then you were wondering how you could feel that way for someone you barely knew. 

Your eyes caught sight of the clock and you rose to your feet. “Um, my free period’s almost over. Thanks for… you know.” For not ratting you out to Yuna, for listening to you, for trying to make you feel not better, but understood.

He nodded, attention already away from you. He didn’t really say anything else, but you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been too quick to judge him based on what little snippets you’d seen of him or heard of. It was almost ironic, since that was what people had been doing to you in the past year.

You didn’t always hate the hospital. 

When your mother used to take you for checkups and dentist appointments as a kid, you would always walk away with lollipops and treats. As you got older, it became vending machine snacks or cafeteria coffee. But the past few months had you avoiding the place as much as possible, which was why that day was an unfortunate one.

Your prescription had run out, and your mother obviously forgot to pick it up for you, something that didn’t usually happen with her. So, you gave the place a call and they told you to come by to pick it up. You made it a point to avoid speaking to anyone unless absolutely necessary. You didn’t want people to recognize as that one strange girl who’d been brought to the emergency department last summer.

The pharmacist handed you your refills and you thought you were clear from there, right until you heard someone say your name.

“Jimin,” you said in surprise when you turned to face the person. What was it with today and running into members of your former detention squad in the least likeliest of places?

Jimin seemed to get over the initial shock, now looking even more taken aback, like you’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t have been. “What are you doing here?”

With a glance around, you realized you were in the hospital’s cafeteria now. You had a split second to come up with something. “I was just, um—I had an appointment.”

“Oh.” He started to nod. “Yeah, me too.”

“Really? I didn’t see you upstairs or anything.”

He spoke after a second. “I just got here. I don’t come here a lot, so I was wandering since I have some time to kill.”

You noticed him look away, and you took the chance to find the exit doors with your eyes. You could leave right then, and nothing would’ve gotten out. But then, here was this boy who reminded you so much of your scared self whenever you had to come here by yourself when your mother couldn’t make it. So, you found yourself reaching for a coffee cup from the stack sitting on the counter. “Did you come for the coffee, too? I swear, it’s the only thing keeping this place going.”

His posture became a little more relaxed with your nonchalant attempt at conversation. “That, and their bagels.”

“Right,” you said with a chuckle. “Love the bagels.”

After what seemed like a moment of debating, Jimin grabbed a coffee cup too and joined you at the self serve coffee station. “So, how did your appointment go?”

You slowed to a stop. Then you pressed the button and watched as the cup began to fill with dark liquid. “It was fine. Just the regular checkup my mom makes me do.”

While he was getting his drink, you waited for him, finding it easier to answer while he was preoccupied. “Is she here too?”

“No, she’s busy tonight.” And every other night. “But it’s fine. It’s not like I got into a fight and have to get stitches for a broken jaw."

As you tried to figure out how to work the toaster oven, Jimin said with great interest, “Did you really break his jaw?”

“No, but wouldn’t that have been nice?”

He stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry if I sounded like I was taking his side when we were talking about it in detention. It’s only characteristic if he’s an asshole all of the time. He must’ve done something stupid.”

“Something like that.” At the same time, you wanted to know if you came across as someone who didn’t get into meaningless fights often. To you, it felt more like the fights and drama came to you. “Eun-ho deserved a lot more than just that.”

“I don’t doubt that. Here, let me.”

You didn’t stop him as he stepped forward, fixing the toaster oven and choosing the settings before putting in the slices of bagels. You shot him a curious glance. “For someone who doesn’t come here often, you sure know how to work that.”

A blush appeared on his cheeks and he looked down at the floor sheepishly. “Oh… I just—“

“You don’t have to tell me why you’re really here, Jimin.” Since he’d said it, you had a bit of a doubt of the reason he was at the hospital. He just seemed too nervous and on edge while he was talking, like he was afraid of slipping up. But you didn’t want to point it out so openly. Everyone had reasons for keeping things. You did too, after all.

“I didn’t want to lie,” he spoke finally in a quiet voice.

You tilted your head, analyzing the way he sounded apologetic for it. You didn’t expect it, and why would you? He didn’t owe you anything, and you knew that. “Then why did you?”

“I–I don’t like talking about it.”

When it was clear he didn’t have anything else to say, you nodded. “I get it. I wouldn’t want to talk about it either.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said and you looked to him, waiting for an explanation. His shoulders lifted in a half shrug and when he spoke, you could tell it took courage from him to admit it. “I don’t have a lot of people I can talk to.”

You frowned slightly. “What about Hoseok? I thought you were close.”

“Not really. We just know each other through dance.”

“And your parents?”

A dark, melancholic shadow crossed over his face for a brief moment, but he played it off with a chuckle. “They’re the last people I’d want to talk to.”

You could relate to him, in that sense. Your father was long out of the picture and it felt like your mother might as well have been. You supposed he was right. Besides Sana, you couldn’t just go to anyone whenever you wanted to talk. Some things you couldn’t even tell her. They stayed in your subconscious, sinking deeper, collecting dust. Or maybe waiting until they got to see the light. “Well, I guess we both could use an ear to listen,” you started. “I’m probably not the best person, but... I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

When he looked at you, a smile was playing on his lips. “Oh, yeah?”

You nodded. “By like one person. But if she hears I’ve set her opinion as a low standard, she will not be thrilled.”

“I will remember that,” he said with a laugh. “If I want to talk about it someday…”

“You know where to find me.” You sent him a grin. “If not around here, possibly in another detention.”

“Are you planning on making a habit out of it?”

You spent the rest of the time, sitting in the cafeteria with Jimin, just talking about little things. You were trying to be cautious not to touch any topics that would make him close off, and you could tell he was doing the same. At the same time, you could feel the smallest bit of guilt simmering in your stomach. He wanted to talk to someone, to you, but you couldn’t do the same, not yet and not about this. 

Although you couldn’t help but feel like for the first time, the hospital didn’t feel like such a sad and lonely place to you.

part iii // part v

[kinktae]

The penultimate part🥺 I’m not ready to say goodbye, Bitchin!Jungkook has definitely been one of my fav characterizations of him that I’ve ever read. Thank you so much for sharing your work with all of us💖

bitchin 9 asks bc i suck

sapphireprinces5 said: bitchin’ pt9 was just so beautiful?? the way you explained the emotions and interactions between the characters was just amazing!! I felt myself hanging on every word wow excited for the end but will miss bitchin’ so much 🤧

Anonymous said: TAEHYUNG AND YARA SIGN ME UP GURL!!!!

Anonymous said: Like I just feel like if Jk really liked y/n he wouldn’t have slept with Kiri, you know? It shouldn’t matter that he didn’t know how y/n felt. And it’s obvious that he has feelings for y/n so I just hope that’s something y/n addresses when she talks to him. Don’t settle for less girl! Get you a man who will fight for you regardless 👏 (btw this is not me criticizing how you wrote it in any way! I’m just so invested in the characters and am thinking about how I would feel in this scenario :) )

Anonymous said: I KNEW SOMETHING WAS GONNA HAPPEN WITH YARA AND TAE I FELT IT SO DEEP IN MY BONES IM SO HAPPY FOR THEM 😭😭😭

Anonymous said: Hi! I just binge read bitchin in a day and can I just say that I loved it! I really love the female characters as well, you’ve written them so beautifully 🥺 if I was y/n I wouldn’t be concerned so much about Jk not sleeping with Kiri if he knew the way y/n felt, but rather the fact that if Jk didn’t want to sleep with Kiri, he wouldn’t have, regardless of y/n’s feelings or not. IMO y/n’s feelings shouldn’t be the issue here, but Jk’s should! If I was y/n’s bff that’s what I would tell her LOL

Anonymous said: OH MY GOODNESS! YES !!!! YESSSSS Y.E.S Muchas graciaaaas!!!

Anonymous said: tae and yara are my new ship)

unknowntalesx said: okay but like tae and yara thooO they got me all smiley being like oh yeah bayyybeEE das what im talking about 😏 ALSO OKAY NOW THAT I AM MORE LUCID KIRI GOT FUCKING WRECKED I LOVED THAT SHE GOT A DOSE OF HER OWN MANIPULATIVE MEDICINE I AM 😤😤😤😤😤

Anonymous said: im not ready for bitchin to end )):

Anonymous said: I SCREAMED WHEN Y/N TOLD KIRI THE TRUTH. YES QUEEN. STAB AND TWIST THE KNIFE!

Anonymous said: ROSE AHHSHSJSKSD FUCK U I’m all hot and bothered with anticipation for pt 10 now 😩😩😩🥵

sydney--chan said: We really stan y/n for using her big ol brain to rock kiris world oh my god I yelled also I say what's your damage all the time bring that shit back

Anonymous said: a tae x yara spin off series or one shot...... haha jk..... unless..... 👀

Anonymous said: Fuck kiri's scheming ass. I'm glad YN ripped her a new one

Anonymous said: AAHHHHHH once again, I love this chapter so much!!!! I was screaming at Yara and Tae part. Seriously!!!! I am SURE she felt that spark when he kissed her. Is she going to be the one falling for the guy while he wants something casual now? Or maybe Tae will fall for her as well? Ahhhh so cute! I feel like that would be a nice spin off yk (no pressure, I swear). And Erik, woah I didn't expect him to be like that. To be so nice and wise. Great character development indeed! It was really nice (1/2)

Anonymous said: To see their interaction and the way he opened her eyes (for some reason I couldn't help but picture him as Namjoon). Ohhh the Kiri part tho!!!! I felt really petty but in the best way lol. Anywaysss I am really excited for the last chapter (really sad too) and I am sure it is going to be the best because you are a genius! Thank you for sharing another amazing chapter with us! ♥♥♥ (2/2)

Anonymous said: OKAY I absolutely adored Bitchin part 9 😻 I always thought that it was also OC fault for what happened between her and jk, he obviously was the main jerk but she never actually admitted her feelings to him and he doesn't read minds so??¿¿? Really loved that she came to understand it. And I was rooting SO MUCH for yara and tae MAN I AM CRYING THEY DESERVE IT 🙌🏻

Anonymous said: you came through with the tae x yara content we all needed omg thank you!! if anyone’s gonna make yara fall in love it’s tae lol

Anonymous said: I honestly lowkey hate bitchin’ jungkook right now. I thought I’d get over it but I just can’t imagine how hurt and disgusted Y/N was when she found out that jk and kiri were together just hours before they were like ugh. It doesn’t help that I’m also really interested in Erik’s character development now so it would’ve been really interesting to see how he’d fit in Y/N’s life. 🥺

Anonymous said: jungkook and y/n wANT what yara and tae have

Anonymous said: TAEYARA YES FINALLY OUR WISHES HAVE BEEN ANSWERED 😍😍

Anonymous said: just want to let you know you’re an absolute angel and all you create is nothing short of perfection. *sends you all of the love*

spring2787 said: I jus came from a 4 hour long class and it's finally here... Thank you so much dear 🎂 💜

Anonymous said: Is yara me ? Like when she said that boy act like they understand the no string involved but then fall in love , dude I felt that , that's literally the story of my life lmaoooo Like the number of time a dude told me yeah I'm okay with that and then acted shocked when I told him I didn't feel anything for him is impressive lmaoo Anyway I'm so eager for the last chapter!!!! you did an amazing job!!

kuhweenbri said: The way I already finished but anyways girl I absolutely loved this part and now I’m excited for the next part 😭😭 will we be seeing more of T-ara??

Anonymous said: OMG YARA AND TAEEEEEEEEE. NOW I UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU MEANT BY FANSERVICE. JSJSJSJJSBXBSBSB But on a serious note, this fic just keeps on getting better. The fact that there's only one chapter left still hasn't come home to me 😭 but thank you so much for blessing us with this!💜💜

Anonymous said: YO! bitchin is flippin brilliant! you have done so well! jungkook broke my heart in part 9! im emotional but also so ready for part 10! please take your time. have a lovely day

Anonymous said: i don’t normally talk to writers on here but bitchin is really bitchin, i haven’t read a fanfic in so long that makes me excited to read the next part and maybe it’s because i’m so used to all of the aus being recycled but bitchin is truly a breathe of fresh air to me for some reason, maybe because you fleshed out the right hand mans for both characters idk or the it being a different time period, but i just wanted to say you are smashing bitchin dude and i love it!!

shy-kpop-girl said: BITCHIN': I just caught up on 8 & 9. Shocked & angry at JK. Because regardless of whether he knew y/n' feelings it was a dick move to sleep with Kiri one night and y/n the next morning. And it wasn't like he came over to talk/tell y/n about Kiri & things escalated because he went right at it as soon as she let him in. Even tho it was hot. 😳 But Erik. I wanted to hate him but dude surprised me with his reasoning. I loved that dialogue! Once again your writing is amazing & I love this story!

Anonymous said: Bitchin is the best fanfic on tumblr. And no one can change my mind. You’re doing amazing!! Much love xoxo

Anonymous said: “Think of life as one big puzzle and everyone you meet is shaped differently, right? Yet somehow… they fit. We find those that complete us. And they’re not necessarily opposites but—“ MAAM that part hit SOOO different omg your brain!?! Outta this world! Like this is whole ass literature!!!! I stg Bitchin’ is the best thing on this app and I meant that w my whole chest.

Anonymous said: I'm not ready for Bitchin to end. It's soooooo good 😍😍😍

kmultifandom said: Since there's a cast for bitchin I wanna audition for y/n because i wanna be a biologist and I have some similar personality traits *mic drop* Also great work, I seriously love it. No other fan fiction I have read was so close to my actual self and that impresses me even more and make it like it 10 times more djksksks

Anonymous said: how will I live when bitchin ends agghhh I haven’t even read 8-9 cause I’m waiting for the happy ending before I’m heartbroken and left waiting for the last part

Anonymous said: you know what would be super fun and crazy 😛😛🙈🙈 if you dropped bitchin’ pt 10 right now 😳😳 haha just kidding .... unless 😏😏

Anonymous said: lets gooooo!!!!!!!!!!! bitchin pt 10 better haunt me for the rest of the year

Anonymous said: I feel like I’m going to get so emotional once Bitchin’ part 10 is released. It’s like I’m sending off my non-existing kids to university because I won’t be able to see Bitchin!Jungkook anymore 🥺

Anonymous said: I can’t believe Bitchin’ is for real ending 😩 it’s soo gud 

Anonymous said: Can’t wait till bitchin PART 10 Probably gonna fall asleep before u post but I’ll try to stay up for it 🥺

Anonymous said: i love your writing honestly and i just really want you to be happy. your writing is immaculate and i really want you to know that you are talented and skilled so yeah. sorry if this is out of nowhere but i just really want to show appreciation to writers because they don't get enough and you are definitely my favorite writer:)) hope you have a good day!!

Anonymous said: okay but if Bitchin' goes on for 50 chapters that would be good too.. just sayin'.

tpo-quinn said: Bruh, I can already feel that I'm gonna cry from the last chapter of bitchin'...I CAN'T WAIT!

leojjeon said: so i've re-read bitchin ready for chapter 10 an I am feeling all sorts of emotions. it's fair to say it's my favourite series I've read!

Anonymous said: y did i forget bitchin would have an end like 😳😐we’ve been on this bitchin journey w u for so long i’m sad it’s over

Anonymous said: What what what?? Bitchin is ending??!!! Didnt it just fucking start like all the drama and tae&yara!!!! Omg girl!!!

Anonymous said: ur the absolute fucking GODDESS of writing angst, ive never ever waited for a ff to be updated before as if it was a new episode of my fav show coming out. thank u for writing and be so active, muah ur amazing

Anonymous said: a moment of silence for our loved bitchin who will die soon 😔 gone but not forgotten, she will always be in our hearts. all the best rides come to an end 😭

[heartfulofsighs]

Baggage Claim Pt. 5

Description: Seunghoon back from a business trip only has a mind for growing his company. You are in the middle of running from the by the book life that was drowning you. When a minor inconvenience sets you in his path will you be the reason he eases up? And could he be what you need to get serious again? 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 

Hey guys. Sorry I’m so late on this I lost Inspo for a bit but thankfully I had @negrowhat and @bbnightengale to bounce ideas off of even if they didn’t realize I was doing it. Thanks every one for their patience. I appreciate it and don’t worry we are nearing an end...more or less lol. 

He had woken up early. He always woke up early and even despite being out late he still felt mostly rested. He replayed your quick conversation as he got dressed, brushing his teeth and going through the words over and over again. He stared at the picture on his fridge. While he ate his cereal. Bright smile. Somehow he seemed closer to seeing that expression, something that he thought wouldn’t happen. He had assumed that after switching bags he would never see you again. The city was vast and he didn’t have any idea how long you were staying. The party and what you had said made your smile seem more in reach. Now all he needed was a place to take you. He dropped his bowl in the sink and headed out. 

“Squeeze wants out.” The sentence was destroying his good mood. Mino looked very serious. Hoon’s friend and the agency’s lawyer Jinwoo was perched on the edge of his desk shaking his head. “Such a shame.” He said without much feeling. He had no idea. Hoon had spent untold amounts of time going back and forth with them on their campaign. “Did they say why?” Hoon asked. He was trying to keep his anger in check. He hated wasted time. “They got bought.” Mino began. “By a very big beverage company that has its own internal marketing department.” Jinwoo explained, “they’re cancelling our contract.” “But our fee?” Hoon questioned. “They’re willing to pay 30%.” Mino offered. Hoon nearly knocked the small light from his desk. “30%?” He echoed. Jinwoo stood up straight and pulled his cellphone out, “don’t sweat it too much, I’ve already got a meeting set up with their CEO and lawyers.” He tapped away at his phone screen, “I’m gonna try for at least 70%.” “You’re going by yourself?” Hoon questioned. “Shouldn’t we go with you? I don’t want you to be...bullied or-” Jinwoo looked up at him from his phone. The atmosphere in the room changed. His wide doe eyes visibly sharpened, “you really think they can bully me?” He asked pleasantly. “It just doesn’t seem like a fair fight.” Mino said. “Nothing in life is fair. All you guys have to do is send me good vibes...I’ll work it out and then give a call of course.” He said. “I appreciate it...we appreciate it.” Hoon said. It wasn’t often that Jinwoo came in on jobs for them. He was one of their best friends but he was heading up a budding firm. He had his own problems to handle not to mention that he usually wouldn’t take his full payment for any of his work. It drove Mino and Hoon crazy. They solved that problem though. Now they direct deposited his fees instead of giving him checks that he never cashed. “Is the meeting today?” Mino asked. Jinwoo nodded, “yep. I’m gonna get some coffee downstairs and then go. Leave it to me.” His nonchalance was typical but also terrifying. He was going to bring all his persuasive powers against these men. He wondered if he would stop at 70%. He just might push for the whole fee. Seunghoon rubbed his face in annoyance. “What about Seungyoon?” He asked. Though he was afraid to hear the answer. “Haven’t heard anything from him yet.” Mino whispered. He slammed his fist on the desk before leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. “It isn’t the end of the world.” Jinwoo said lightly. “He’s just considering all his options...don’t worry so much.” Hoon heard the sound of a chair scraping the floor. Mino must be standing, “you know how he is.” He said softly. When he opened his eyes they were getting ready to leave. “Good luck.” He said to Jinwoo. The older man waved before walking out. “I’m gonna work on some stuff. Don’t sit here and fume all day.” Mino warned. Funny he should say that because that’s all Hoon could think to do. Mino closed his door as he left and he was alone. This was suppose to be a good day. Things felt like they were going his way. He closed his eyes again and tried to bring that feeling back. He began to envision your picture hanging on his fridge smiling brightly. He took a huge breath in then out. He thought of you laughing at the event. That was a good smile too. Before he could talk himself out of the phone call he found your number and hit the call button. His mind felt like it was rolling. Everything was so mixed up. But the sound of your voice stopped it. “Hi?” He soaked up the single syllable and smiled when he responded. The conversation had gone by in a blaze. When he hung out one thing was concrete. He was going to pick you up. He looked down at his desk and then at his computer screen. Where was he going to take you?

Cherry made you try on combination after combination. It felt like you had put on every single piece of clothing you had brought with you. “I think that sort of flouncy shirt is nice, with the shorts.” Cherry sniffed as she talked. You picked up the shirt in question and put it back on. It was off the shoulder with flouncy sleeves that hid a bit of your arm jiggle. Not that you minded it but you only wanted to have one area to be concerned over. The shorts weren’t overly short but it was more thigh then you were planning on. “You don’t think this is too much skin?” You asked slowly. You looked at yourself in the mirror. Cherry sneezed then shook her head. “I think you look perfect, wear your white converse, take that jean jacket and we have an outfit!” She declared. She sneezed again and you made a note in your mind to carefully, quietly, spray the room down with Lyesol.     You coaxed all of your hair into a high ponytail before you figured you were done.  It felt like he took a long time. The waiting killed you. Cherry drank her tea and managed to make herself a little oatmeal. You watched her eat because there wasn’t much else to do. Maybe you were too excited? Watching Cherry felt more sane then watching your phone and hoping for the screen to light up. “Maybe he figured out what was wrong at his job?” You said softly to yourself. “It’s been barely 30 minutes...he’s probably leaving to come get you now…” She said as she swirled her spoon through her oatmeal. “Don’t think too hard about this.” She teased. It didn’t take too much longer before your phone lit up. It slid across the table before you picked it up. “Hello?” You listened to some shuffling and then his voice came over the line. “I’m downstairs.” He said quietly. You stood up gathering your bag. Cherry watched you her spoon in her mouth. “Have fun!” She called as you rushed to the door. Seunghoon had a tight look on his face. His features were pulled into worry and you figured whatever it was that happened at his job was pretty bad.    “Where are we going?” You asked quietly. He turned to you his eyes lingering on your outfit before he cleared his throat.    “You look really pretty.” He began.    “Thanks.”    “I’m gonna take you to the boardwalk amusement park. It’s real dumb and there are always a lot of tourist.” He sounded triumphant by the time he finished his sentence. His features eased a bit and the worry you had seen when you got in the car faded. “Perfect.” You said.  

The drive to the pier was a quiet one. You hummed along to whatever played on the radio. All the tension that he had left the office with melted as soon as you got into the car. He had been right to ditch work. To make an excuse and just disappear. Mino hadn’t been suspicious at all. He had looked up from his computer and waved. “Everything is going to work out. Don’t worry too much.” He had said. He had given Hoon a reassuring smile. He peeked at you. The window was open and the wind was blowing your hair around. You didn’t seem to mind, you kept your eyes watching the scenary. It wasn’t far to the boardwalk and he enjoyed watching your hair and your smile out of the corner of his eye. He pulled into the parking lot which was fuller then he thought it would be. You didn’t give him a chance to open your door. You were pulling on the handle, bouncing out with a huge smile on your face. He got out and walked to your side. You had your phone out to snap a picture of the rides.    “You haven’t come here yet right?” He asked. You turned and shook your head. The park was picturesque. You could see the rollercoaster rising up from the boardwalk, the sky and ocean a backdrop of blue. There was a ferris wheel and one of those swinging dragon ship rides.      “It’s on my list though.” You confessed. He watched as you took a moment to look him over. A confused look on your face.    “What?” He asked. He looked down at his slacks to see if he had spilled something on himself. Satisfied, he then gave his arms a glance. His clothes were immaculate. The idea of changing hadn’t occurred to him. He figured he wouldn’t stand out too much especially since there wouldn’t be many people there on a weekday.    “I’m guessing you came straight from your office?” You asked as you looked his outfit over more.    “Yes.” He answered.  You put your phone away in your pocket a determined look on your face. He liked it, your nose scrunched and he imagined if you had sleeves that could be pulled up, you would.      “May I?” You asked quietly. He nodded and you stepped closer, “ok, lose the jacket.” You said. He pulled his jacket off immediately and held it awkwardly.    “Your shirt, do you have an undershirt on?” You asked. He nodded again and you smiled, “good, take this fancy one off then.” He did. You were nice enough to hold his jacket while he fiddled through with the buttons. He could feel you watching him shrug it off but he decided not to think too hard about it. Once it was off, he put both the shirt and jacket into the trunk of his car. When he came back he made sure to stand the same distance away from you. You didn’t seem bothered by him being that close. In fact it helped because the finishing touch was you lifting your arms and ruffling his hair. You were so close. He could smell vanilla from your body wash, and felt your breath before you pulled away to look at him again. His heart was going a million miles an hour. All he could think about was leaning forward and kissing you. But you were gone too soon, a new big smile on your face.    “Better.” You pronounced. Your hands wrapped around his arm and you began to pull, “now let’s get this forget about work day started!”

You had to treat it as frivolous. If you let your mind dwell on things then you wouldn’t be able to led him happily. You would be too nervous. You pulled him to the swinging dragon ship first The line wasn’t too long and before you knew it the two of you were being directed by a very disinterested teenager.    “No running.” He drawled. As he waved back and forth indicating the ramp.  Hoon followed you to the back row. You shuffled in all the way to the end and plopped down next to you.    “It feels like a million years since I’ve been on one of these.” He said as he fixed his belt. You watched his long fingers and lamented the fact that you hadn’t even thought about a manicure since you landed. For a moment you found yourself annoyed about how grubby you imagined your nails looked next to his perfect ones. You were so caught up in the sudden thought, that he fixed your seatbelt for you. His perfect hands snapping the safety belt at your waist and tightening it quickly. He sat up straight and sighed. He seemed the slightest bit excited. His tiny hint of a smile made you forget about everything. You wanted to see what that smile could grow into.    “Don’t forget to hold your arms up.” You said. He nodded at you very seriously, as if you were giving him very intricate instructions.   The swinging ship loosened him up. He laughed, he held his arms up and screamed with everyone else. At the highest point he grabbed your arm as the ship swung forward. You closed your eyes and leaned into him screaming as your stomach dropped. You could hear his shouting throw his chest as you hung on.   You couldn’t stop giggling as you got off and he reflected your energy. His hand was still in yours, he was leading you back down the ramp looking back every so often. It was almost as if he thought you wouldn’t be there from one step to the next. You gripped his hand with more strength laughing still. His hair was even more ruffled and he was projecting calm and contentment.    “Where to next?” You asked. He surveyed the park and you got a chance to study his profile. His face was helped by the soft smile on his lips. You hoped he would keep it, you hoped that you would get to see it all day.      “You wanna try the bumper cars?” He asked as he turned to you again. You nodded, you didn’t mind him leading you around after all it was his day to relax. Everything was a laugh, the bumper cars, the merry-go-round, the rollercoaster. He bought you both the typical boardwalk snacks. Hotdogs and french fries, cotton candy that he playfully broke off the stick to feed you. The act was just silly enough to not get your imagination going too hot. His frown was long gone. He followed behind you, snacking on popcorn when you spotted what you had been looking for all day. The photo booth. You stopped dead, “a photo booth.” You said excitedly.  He stopped next you his chewing loud. He threw a piece into the air and managed to catch it in his mouth. He looked triumphant and his goofy face made you laugh even more.   “You wanna take pictures?” He asked. The booth looked tiny but you could imagine the pictures looking so cute. You wanted something to remember today. Something to remind you of the time you got him to fully smile, just in case you didn’t happen to see him again. Of course you would want pictures. You could put the strip of photos up in your room and even take them with you when you had to go….     The booth was a little indeed smaller on the inside then you had anticipated. He sat on the bench finishing off the last of his popcorn. When you hesitated he patted the spot next to him expectantly. You sat trying your best to not crowd him. Hoon didn’t seem to mind at all. He edged closer to you and set his paper popcorn bag under the bench. His arms were long enough that he didn’t have to stand back up to feed the machine money. “So silly faces first?” He asked. There was a beeping sound, you turned just in time to stick your tongue out at the camera. Then you gave him bunny ears, crossed your eyes, blew the camera a kiss, every time the camera snapped you giggled. The pictures printed on a photo strip that he swiped from the slot. “How do we look?” You asked as you tried to see them. He was studying them so intently you thought maybe they hadn’t developed well. “Cute.” He finally said. Then he leaned forward again, “but let’s do one more set…” He fed the machine more money then leaned back. “What should we do for this one?” You asked. He looked at you while the machine beeped away in warning. “Smile really big.” He directed. You had just a moment to do it. To pull your lips into a big smile and actually mean it. It had been such a long while since you had meant it. You felt for the first time in a long while like yourself. You hadn’t taken this trip to become a better version of you. What you wanted was to just feel normal. Happy.   The camera snapped, then the warning beep sound started again. You felt his arm around your shoulders, he pulled you even closer laying a kiss on your cheek right at the second snap. The beep again and you looked up at him. He was leaning in. “Are you going to kiss me?” You whispered. “Can I?” He asked. The camera snapped. The beeping started again. You answered with an affirmative hum pushing your lips against his right as the camera snapped again. His hand cupped your cheek and you felt yourself melt into him.  It was probably a bad idea for you to be kissing a man you barely knew. If you were home this wouldn’t be happening, if you were home you wouldn’t be out at all. But you liked him. You couldn’t deny the very obvious pull and what was the point of waiting? Didn’t everyone say time was fleeting? You wanted to kiss him, to keep kissing him. There was no harm in having things that you wanted. For a moment you forgot where you were. Your mind had begun to glaze over a bit. He pulled away, his thumb tracing back and forth on your cheek. You tried your best to not give away your disappointment. “Ummm excuse me?” A small voice drifted into the booth. For a moment neither of you moved until there was a knock. You pulled away from him, sticking your head through the dark curtain. There was a little girl standing outside expectantly. Her mother was holding her hand but it was very obvious that she was the spokesperson. “Are you done? Can me and my mommy use the booth now?” She asked loudly. You could hear Seunghoon chuckling. “We’re done.” You said to her. He was right behind you as you cleared the curtain. “Sorry we took so long.” He said down to her as you passed.

All he wanted to do was relive the photo booth. He had the picture strips in his hands. He gazed down at them as he followed behind you oblivious to everything else. In his pocket his cellphone buzzed. He ignored it like he had been ignoring it all day. He didn’t want to know about anything involving his job. He wanted to keep thinking about your lips instead.    “Are there any other rides you wanna get on?” You asked. He looked up stopping just in time to not run into you. “Pick something, we can do whatever you want.” He said. “Are you going to let me have one of those?” You asked abruptly. You were looking at the pictures a slow smile creeping across your face. “Which one do you want?” He asked. “The silly faces one.” You answered automatically.  You held your hands out palms up expectantly. So cute. The way you smiled at him expectantly, what was he going to do? He handed over the strip you wanted and you looked your faces over. He stepped even closer his hand reaching for your hair, “thank you.” He said softly. He pushed some of it behind your ear. A gesture he had seen hundreds of times in the movies, it felt so different to do it in real life. “For what?” You asked innocently. For what? For making him feel like he could actually breath. For putting a smile on his face, for making the day about something other than his job. But he didn’t know exactly how to say all that. “This day was really relaxing, thanks for coming with me.” He finally said. You shrugged his thanks off, “it’s no big deal, I know how it is.” You replied. “Can we have more days?” He asked quickly before he lost his nerve, “if we both aren’t busy?” He added. For a second he could see your hesitation but then you nodded. “Sure, I don’t mind.” You said. “It can be sort of like a fling?” You suggested. His heart hammered. No. But he nodded his head because what else could he do? If a fling was all he could have then a fling would be what he took.

[johnnq]

whispers. part 2

[9:12pm] ghosts, the afterlife and presences. fickle concepts you had often dabbled in discussing with your friends in the almost two whole years since you lost mark.

your friends asked you about it often in the early grieving stages partly as a far-fetched joke to comfort you and distract you from it all, but mostly because they were unnaturally curious. they asked you if you believed that mark would ever visit you in the form of a "ghost" (spirits, was the word they used, but you werea lot more cynical than that and couldn’t use the word), whether you ever wondered or thought about where he might be in terms of you believing in the afterlife or not, and finally; they really wanted to know if you had felt any odd presences that weren't of actual people.

in the first few weeks this was impossible for you to answer properly, citing the fact that your beliefs were not really that strong as a reason to avoid it. eventually after much persistence on your friends' ends, you hesitantly revealed that you were quite open to the idea of spirits existing now that you realised how much mark’s dissapearance from your life had affected you, that you hoped that mark was somewhere nicer than where he was when he was alive, and that you had in fact not had any 'presences' but that you so desperately wanted some kind of sign from him that one would make you very happy.

that all changed after the first time you saw him in all his glory that night. you went from being uncertain and uncomfortable talking about the matter, to professing very strongly that mark WAS there with you sometimes and that the night you saw him was very real. on the front of the afterlife, you still couldn't answer, though.

sitting at your desk in the workroom in your apartment, you spent hours going through all the files stored on the old and clunky computer you had been using for years now - a hand-me-down from your sister when she left for university a few years ago. granted, the computer itself was almost immaculate in terms of the exterior and how long it had served you, but you couldn't help but loathe how slowly it responded and how filled with useless files it was.

it was time to buy a new one for the first time in around five years and of course, you knew that some things on it would be of use from having it for so long, so you decided to plug in your trusty harddrive and transfer what you needed before wiping it clean ready to either sell to someone or simply throw away. what you didn't expect to find, was what you did find.

everywhere you looked, something connected to mark flashed up. it didn't matter if you were looking at the pictures you had saved, the documents you had, the music you had saved, the videos, hell - even your wallpaper was a picture of the first couple vacation you went on together to fiji. it all had mark written all over it and it hurt you far more than you cared to admit after so long, to sort through.

there were pictures and videos on there from many times you had shared with people in your life, vacations, parties, family get-togethers, concerts and more. mark was in a lot of those photos, posing and smiling with that naivety and innocence you loved so much, flashing in his eyes and across his beautiful face. like usual, most of the pictures with him in it had him either giving the camera that adorable little toothy smile, or the cheeky poked out tongue he deliberately did just to annoy you, but in all of the pictures, he consistently looked like he had not a care in the world. 

there were specific videos that stuck out to you, most of all the one from your first anniversary where mark sent you a ten minute video message talking about how much he loved you, the familiar backdrop of his white practice room behind him while he apologised profusely about having to practice a new choreography all day instead of being with you.

god, how you just wanted to be able to hear him tell you he loves just one more time.

documents you had saved were also a big part in the day-to-day aspect of your relationship with him, notes with simple things like "clean the toilet" or "don't forget to buy new toilet paper" were plastered across your screen as you remembered how he'd often use microsoft word to leave you reminders and have them opened on the screen when you went into the room each morning like you always did.

it was moments like these that you wished he'd leave you just one more note asking you to do something stupid like replace the milk.

your spotify was also littered with reminders of him. playlists that he made you, labelled by month or year, with some holding very outlandish or downright hilarious names that he used to make you laugh whenever you listened to them, causing a few awkward moments when you had to explain to co-workers and friends why you’d laugh obnoxiously loud out of nowhere when you read the titles in public.

you'd never truly admired and appreciated his "songs that make me think about you" playlist, remembering the day you'd laughed at it and called it 'corny and predictable'. now, you really wished you could stop crying when you listened to it.

it took you hours to finally sort it out properly, and pressing the factory reset button left you sighing with both relief and exhaustion. it didn't take you hours because you had a lot of things to ponder on deleting or backing-up, it was because you spent a good portion of that time stifling back the tears when you saw most of it.

seeing the factory reset happen before your eyes, you leant back in your chair and clenched your fist, bringing it to your head and balling a handful of hair into it as you questioned why you decided to put yourself through that so soon.

"you know, it's not my fault i loved you so much." a voice speaks from just behind you.

taken aback by this sudden voice, you turned backwards to see mark once again.

"i.. i know it's not. i loved all this stuff when you were here marky but, you're not.. anymore. it just hurts to see it all because i miss how it used to be with you around." you sigh audibly, pulling yourself up to sit straight.

"this is the first time i've seen all this since you died, and boy oh boy does it hurt." you finish, nervously scratching the back of your neck as you looked over at the window to see that the once bright and vibrant afternoon light had shifted to deep night and moonlight in the time since you'd started sorting the computer.

"i told you the playlist would make you cry one day, i remember you telling me it'd only ever make you laugh, now look at you." he slightly reluctantly offered, an innocent but mischief filled smile wiped across his expression, his cheeks turning an excellent shade of pink.

your instinctive reaction is to swipe his arm and knock it playfully, but upon remembering that he’s merely a presence and nothing more, you rectract your hand, the small smile you had fading readily.

“it’s sweet. i never really liked it when you first made it for me if i’m being completely real with you, but i know it was made with nothing but love and good intentions, because you really did love me.”

hearing this, mark giggles and sits on the desk in front of you.

“did? oh, princess - i still do. just because i can’t physically be there for you, it doesn’t mean i fell out of love with you.” he bites his lip coyly and looks down at the paperwork bunched up on the desk next to him.

“i heard you got promoted at work.” he lets out, making direct eye contact with you for perhaps the first time tonight.

“yeah.. it’s nothing really, just a few more hours and a bit of a rise in my pay and a few more perks i guess. nothing feels as exciting without you there to get me in the mindset and i think they gave me it because i’d been doing better than my usual low performance. ever since you.. i haven’t really been me.” you finish, the last part below a murmer.

“you always doubted yourself y/n, even when i was still here. you always said you were doing badly at work and that they took pity on you, and you’d barely agree with me even when i spent hours trying to convince you that you were doing great. you’re good at what you do - amazing at it! you just never see it.”

these words make you crack, causing a barage of heavy and overbearing tears to spill down your cheeks as you realise he was right. 

he was always right when it came to you.

“hey, hey.. don’t cry. you look so beautiful with a smile on your face and i hate seeing it ruined by you being sad. you’ve cried enough today, don’t you think?” he utters to you hurriedly, moving to stand next to you and bends over your figure to use his sleeve to wipe away the tears you had. lowered down onto his knees almost, he was at your level just staring at you while you composed yourself.

“t-thank you. i know i say it enough times a day but, i miss you so much mark, and after that night and you dissapearing like that... i thought i’d never see you again. it scared me so much, like, too much. i can’t be without you, i-.” you ramble on.

mark hushes you, his finger pressing to your lips gently as he plants a forgiving and loving kiss onto your forehead.

“it’s okay to feel that way. but, you remember when i told you you were stronger than you realised when i was last here?” he quizzes, you nod back.

he smiles and moves his hair out of his eyes as he thinks for a second.

“i meant it. you’ve made it over TWO YEARS without me y/n. i am so proud of you, and i know everyone else is.”

and that’s when you see it. the stab wound on his chest. in the moment, you can barely even think straight, and motion towards it, running your hand lightly over it as he winces weakly.

“you saw it huh? i knew you would eventually.” he chokes back, tears threatening to flood as he coughs and tries to regain some form of control over his breathing.

“mark.. god, it looks.. p-painful. fuck, what did they even do to you?” you say shakily, a whimper coming from you as the reminder hits you that he was in so much pain in his final moments.

“stabbing, punching, kicking. they said they didn’t have a reason for choosing me, i was just there and they wanted to hurt someone. i don’t think they realised how deep the knife went though.” he told you, as silence fell in the room and you had no words to offer in return to his statement.

mark now stood up, relying on your desk chair as support as he forced himself to stand straight.

“i-i.. i need to head back now.” he says after some thought.

“so soon?” you question, your mouth agape slightly as you realise you’d already been talking to him for an hour.

“i’ll be back soon baby, don’t worry. wait for me?” he replies, reaching his hand out to you, and you reach back, linking your hands together tightly as he stares over at the computer seeing that it had finished the factory reset.

“perfect timing.” he remarks.

and with that, he’s once again gone from your view, vanishing into thin air for the second time. 

scooting the chair closer to the computer, you spot a small item on the desk. on closer inspection, you conclude for it to be mark’s phone. pressing the button on the side, the screen flashes up and sure enough, there sits a photo of you both on your vacation to fiji, and an absurd amount of notifications littering the screen.

how would you go through all of this now?