#cause i literally just changed it not too long ago

[wwooyology]

the strong urge to change my theme AGAIN..... someone tell me no (or yes I'm easily influenced)

[chiistarri]

done with him 🙏

[violenteconomics]

as a prank, ace and epel start referring to their upperclassmen as members of their family rather than by name — when they're not actually talking to their upperclassmen, of course — just to see how long it will take them to notice. and after a while, the other freshmen start doing it, too.

ace is the first one to come up with this idea. he think it's a harmless little thing, a prank that'll cause plenty of mayhem but won't get him in any serious trouble. so he starts referring to cater and trey as his dad and mom respectively, and riddle as his uptight, no-nonsense older brother.

("one time i saw my brother try to put one of mom's tart into like a ziplock bag to save it for later, and when he took it out like two days afterwards, it fell apart immediately and he started bawling, ha ha! my dad got the whole thing on camera and shared it with me — i can show you if you want.")

he ropes epel in on the plan. epel is a little more hesitant, but seeing this as a way to get back at vil, even in a small way, he agrees to it. vil is now "ma" and rook is now "pa". people do start to wonder why he still uses he/him pronouns to refer to his supposed mother, but they decide not to question it too much.

("a few months ago, my pa told me a story about how one time my ma was trying to comb his hair, only for his comb to get stuck. so he got another comb to get the first one out, and that ended up getting stuck, too. five combs later, and peepaw had to rush him to the barber for an emergency haircut. it was pretty funny, but now i'm left wondering how pa even knew that story... hold on, i need to check my bathroom mirror for cameras, excuse me.")

surprisingly, deuce catches on pretty quickly, and he starts thinking maybe it's a new dorm policy. he doesn't know why, or why nobody else seems to be doing it, but ace seems pretty sure of himself, so he starts doing it, too, if a bit awkwardly.

("my brother always gets on my case for my bad grades. it's a little frustrating, but he only does it because he cares. my dad tutors me whenever he can, but he's not very good at studying, either. but whenever i do get good grades on my report card, my mom makes me egg tarts!")

yuu starts after they ask ace about it, and thinking it's a good prank, they decide to join in on a little mischief. so they start referring to all the teachers as their "dad". it makes people really confused, because they assume they only have one dad, two at most, but "dad" seems to change personalities every single time they talk about him.

("i was helping my dad do paperwork the other day, except we didn't get anything done and spent the entire evening playing solitaire and making dog puns."

"i was filling my dad's basketballs for him for his next game, whilst simultaneously helping him rework his pick-up lines that he's going to use on rsa's 'hot librarian' — his words, not mine. it was... a weird experience."

"i was feeding my dad's cat a couple of days ago, but i guess i fed him too much, because he's just a ball with limbs now. it's fine, though — it's not like my dad actually goes anywhere. too old for that, y'know?")

ortho is up next. idia's already ortho's brother, so he can't really do anything with that, but he really wants in on the average teenage experience of pranking your peers. so he starts referring to literally every upperclassmen he knows as his "brother". this is when everyone starts to realize that something's wrong, because some of things ortho says can not apply to idia in any reality.

("my brother is so talented! he's so good at talking to people, and making them sign contracts with him, and convincing them to invest in his restaurant... gosh, i wish i could be as good at communicating as him!")

jack is, unsurprisingly, very unamused when he figures out what the others are doing, but he doesn't try to stop them. but after a few weeks of exposure, and jack starts unconsciously doing it, too, which the others don't point out to him because they think it's absolutely hilarious.

("my brother didn't show up to morning practice, again, so my other brother and i went lookin' for him, and we ended up findin' him in a tree. obviously, my brother and i can't climb as well as my eldest bro can, so my brother just... threw a spelldrive disk at him. to get him out of the tree. and then we had to rush him to the infirmary because now he had a concussion. i don't... i don't know why he thought that would work.")

sebek is the last hold-over. not only is he unamused by this prank — and frankly very aghast when he realizes that jack has also been infected by it — but he's also really repressed and will do literally whatever it takes to not sully his image in the eyes of diasomnia. of course, with enough wear and tear, this doesn't last very long.

("ugh. my brother fell asleep on the road AGAIN! i swear, so many people have tripped over him, i'll be surprised if he hasn't broken any ribs yet.")

ace and epel think all of this is extremely funny, so they all keep trucking along with it with nobody noticing for a couple of weeks. it's all fine and dandy until the first-years are out on the town during the weekend, and deuce gets involved in a really bad carriage crash.

at the hospital, deuce starts deliriously asking for his older brother to take him home. but when the receptionist checks his familial records, they're really confused because deuce never even had a brother.

unfortunately, ace knows exactly who deuce is talking about, and awkwardly spends the next 30 minutes trying to get a hold of riddle over the phone.

the awkwardness doesn't end as riddle actually gets to the hospital, and the doctor smiles and says, "you must be mr spade's big brother."

[awrkive]

tlp jk is def the type to absolutely sob when he sees oc walk down the aisle/when he’s trying to propose to her and it maybe just me but I feel like after that one year anniversary he’s like I’m wifing this girl DOWNN cause I feel like he lich has the ring and everyth ready to go he’s waiting he’s prepped 😭

here it is!!! #thee proposal drabble this is literally the cutest thing ever i wish love was real 😖🥹 hope u enj!!!!!!!!!!

summary: in which jungkook proposes and it doesn't start off well

w/c: 3.7k

warning/s: tlp couple is extremely in love that is a warning. they're also cry babies. listen to something by the beatles for the major feels 😔

“Baby,” Jungkook sighs, matching your pace. “Are we really fighting right now?” 

“No.” Is your stern response, continuing your quick steps without even bothering to look back at him. 

“I guess we are fighting right now.” Jungkook mumbles to himself, taking two big strides so he can finally catch up with you. 

You don’t pay him any attention when he slides his arm around your waist while the other holds the bag of large popcorn you bought a while ago, leaning down to kiss the side of your head. Jungkook doesn’t even care about the people passing by around the cinema; they have lives to care about on their own – he can kiss his girlfriend wherever and whenever he wants. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers in your hair, enough for only you to hear. 

There’s a crease on your forehead that hasn’t ceased ever since you left the restaurant you had your dinner at. But after a few beats, you let out a sigh. 

“I just really wanted to see the movie in IMAX.” you lament, and Jungkook feels bad. He really does. 

“I know, baby, I really am sorry,” he apologizes once again. “We can see it tomorro—” but he realizes you both have a full-time shift, so he opts for, “–next week?” 

“Jungkook, the screening ends in the next two days.” you say, tone bordering on annoyed now. You reel it back in, gently saying, “I just– I told you to hurry up earlier, but you kept on changing your hair even though– you know what, forget about it. Which cinema were we in, again?” 

Jungkook’s nerves begin to kick in, because you look like you’re genuinely upset now. He can tell it by the tone of your voice, the disappointment and the simmering irritation of having to deal with the situation. You don’t get angry often – no scratch that, you don’t get angry at all. However, it does come in withdrawal-like gestures and behavior – like now. 

And again, Jungkook really does feel bad for having to do what he did earlier. You weren’t able to purchase tickets online so you had to make do with buying on the actual booth – and because Jungkook took way too long in the comfort room of the restaurant fixing his hair, you arrived at the cinema way too late and the tickets for the last IMAX screening of the night ran out. It left you with no choice but to go with the regular one instead, and needless to say, you’re not at all that happy about that. 

Well, shit. Jungkook thinks. This date is not going well at all. The waitress at the restaurant you ate at a while ago openly flirted with him on your table and he was too stunned to do something that you had to tell her off by yourself. That had obviously taken a hit on your mood, and the cinema thing just kind of maybe amplified it and Jungkook thinks he’s beginning to get fucked.

“I’ll make up it up to you, baby–” 

“The tickets, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook purses his lips into a thin line and gives them to you.

You walk alongside each other quietly, but Jungkook doesn’t let go of your waist while you head towards the dark and quiet hallway, leading to the seats. You don’t pry his hand off so maybe – maybe – that’s a good thing. 

But god, this night isn’t going well like he wanted it to be. Suddenly, he’s nervous again. More nervous that he was in the shower awhile ago when you were still prepping for the date back at home. He’s anxious about fucking the whole thing up, and sure, he could trust his track record of never fucking up when it comes to doing big things in his life, but this is different. This will be different. And he’s just so fucking scared that he checks on his watch again. 

8:22pm. 

Eight minutes before the movie starts in your cinema. And eight minutes more before the–

“Jungkook,” You call him, and he’s just in the middle of pushing the seat down for you when you do so. He looks at you. Confused, you ask, “Do you have somewhere to go?” 

“Huh?”

“You keep on looking at your watch. You have been since we were at the restaurant.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen and he’s thankful there’s barely any lights in the hall.

“I– no. No.” He shakes his head, placing down the bag of popcorn in the middle and takes your hand instead, interlocking your fingers. “I’m sorry, did I keep doing that?” He asks consciously.

He’s really fucking this up, and you’re noticing it. 

“Yes, it’s bothering me a little,” You shuffle in your seat a little, facing Jungkook. Softly, you ask, “Do you wanna go home? We can ditch the movie. I’m sorry for being a dickhead the whole night. It’s not an excuse but I really wanted to watch this movie in IMAX… but it’s fine. I’m not mad at you. I’m just in a… mood. And I know I’m taking it out on you. I’m sorry. I’m being so unappreciative over here – I know you were supposed to work on your research–”

“Hey,” Jungkook stops you before you can even finish that. “No, baby. This is our date. I don’t wanna go home yet and I’m genuinely really sorry for missing the IMAX screening.” He’d add he didn’t mean to take long in the comfort room earlier… but that would be a lie. He intended to do that so you can both arrive here on time like planned. 

You purse your lips into a thin line. “Still… I’m sorry for being a little bitch.” 

“Not true. You’re an angel.” Jungkook says and brings your interlocked hands up to kiss your knuckles. “Love you.” 

You frown. “Love you too.” 

That earns you a hearty chuckle from him. “I love you more.” 

“Not that again.” You sigh, turning sideways to look ahead on the screen but not breaking away from his hold. 

Jungkook contains his smile as his gaze falls to the big screen as well, nerves crumbling down a little at the exchange. You’re the only person who can make him nervous but the only one who can take it away at the same time. 

“Huh,” you utter suddenly in the middle of some trailer playing. “It’s so weird there’s only a few people here.”

At that, Jungkook’s heart rate picks up a bit. “Y-yeah? Well, it’s late at night.” 

“Fair.” 

“And this movie’s not really new, right? Just an anniversary screening thing.” Jungkook continues to add, as if determined to justify your claim. 

You nod. “I guess you’re right.” 

“Yep.” 

His phone lights up and you’re busy sipping on your drink so Jungkook takes that as an opportunity to check the messages he received.

tae [8:28pm]: starting in 2

tae [8:28pm]: good luck buddy

Jungkook swipes his tongue over his lips – a nervous habit – quickly turning it off and pocketing the device. He places his arm on the arm rest and taps his fingers on the plastic surface anxiously. 

It feels like there’s a ticking clock above his head when the trailer finally ends, because he knows the thing should start rolling. 

And Jungkook swears he’s prepared for this for so many weeks. Months for the matter. It’s now May and the ring has been bought since February. What was once tucked away from the depths of his closet is now snugged in the pockets of his trouser, deep enough that you couldn’t pinpoint the bulging outline of the box.

Jungkook originally planned for you both to be out of the country when he does it. But things got really hectic at the hospital and while he personally could’ve still taken a leave, you couldn’t. Jungkook brought up the idea of vacationing a little, “Just for a week,”, he said, but then you sadly told him that you couldn’t even if you wanted to and he understood that greatly. He’s in the same line of work, after all. 

So, with what seemed to be the nth deliberation with Doyeon, Taehyung, and Nayeon, he ultimately decided on this set-up. You know; trick you into going to the mall with him so you can pass by the cinema and he successfully executes the proposal seamlessly. But obviously, it didn’t go as smoothly as that.

After your dinner, you impulsively decided that you wanted to watch a movie in IMAX, but it starts at exactly as Jungkook’s proposal, and so he had to compromise a little bit; the admittedly poor (but effective) solution coming in the form of intentionally staying a little longer in the comfort room of the restaurant just so you two would be lat. 

And Jungkook swears it’s for a good reason! Because everything’s prepped and ready to roll and he can’t have himself waste another perfect opportunity. He remembers almost popping the question three months ago, two months ago, month ago, few weeks ago and heck, even last night – but he’d always get cold feet and think the time wasn’t right. 

Right now, though, is different. 

And he wants it so badly to be different.

Good thing you settled things quickly. Now that his being late is past you, he can be a little more confident in what he’s about to do. 

The next trailer shows up and Jungkook sits upright, knowing what’s coming. He has it memorized, down to each frame. He was the one who edited it, after all, a product of his humble multimedia skills, that is. Jungkook could’ve gone to a professional but he really wanted to do it himself, scared they wouldn’t be able to tell you what he wanted to. And so he did. The gang also told him that it would be better if he did it himself.

And now he’s showing it to you – you, who’s completely clueless beside him. 

It starts as a bit of a misdirect. There’s an intro from a famous movie studio, and a scene from a real movie – and so of course you don’t suspect anything, as Jungkook could say from his peripheral view.

Suddenly, the screen goes black. It causes a pregnant pause, stretched to exactly five seconds (again, Jungkook edited that), and then, a familiar clip suddenly plays. 

It’s a video of you taken from Jungkook’s camcorder back in med school. First year, around the second semester. You were at Moon’s Printing Shop and you were looking down at your notes when Jungkook, behind the camera, called your name. 

You looked up, hair messy from an all-nighter study but Jungkook’s certain the Jungkook behind the scene was still thinking you were the prettiest girl he’s ever seen just like he’s thinking now. 

“Who would you wanna be if you were given the chance to be somebody else in your next life?” 

You grimace. “Hopefully, still me.” 

“So boring,” Jungkook exaggerated, his laughter reverberating in the hall of the theater. “Be serious.” 

You looked flustered in the video. “I’m serious. I don’t wanna be somebody else.” 

In his seat, Jungkook feels the real you sitting beside him tugging at your enclosed hands together, so he looks at you. 

“Jungkook, what is this?” You say, evidently unaware of what’s currently happening, your brows furrowed in that cute confusion. 

“Just something I’ve been working on for the past three months.” he smiles, bringing your hands together to his lips again. He just couldn’t stop kissing and touching you even if he tries.

You stare at him with your mouth agape, but you don’t say anything else, your gaze falling back to the screen once again. 

“Okay, since you don’t wanna play this game I wanna be Darth Vader.” Jungkook said in the video. 

“What? The evil guy from Star Wars?” You frowned. “That’s not… hmm… okay. I guess I wanna be… Spongebob, then.” 

“Oh. Wow. Interesting. Alright, Darth Vader’s out. I wanna be Patrick instead.” 

“I like that. So we’ll still be bestfriends, right?” 

“Yeah. And I still get to stress you out even in the next life.” 

That made you laugh, the warm burst of laughter filling the hall which makes Jungkook’s lips curl up as he watches the screen. He can never get tired of it; your smile, your laugh, your face as it lights up. There’s something so incredibly angelic about you he sometimes thinks you’re not human at all. Or maybe just part-human… nonetheless, he feels grateful. For literally everything. 

Something in the way she moves…

The video transitions to another reel of you taken by Jungkook while The Beatles’ Something plays in the background. 

"Oh my god..." Jungkook hears you gasp beside him, but he doesn't allow himself to break just yet. Instead, he tightens his grip on your hand, feeling your response as you hold on just as firmly.

The screen continues to show candid moments of you from med school. All recorded and taken by Jungkook; the trips you took during that time, that rave party you went to where you got extremely drunk – and when that showed up, you giggled beside him and said, “I told you to delete that.”, which he just laughed at. 

Later on, the clips got more recent, you in your lilac dress and Jungkook’s white tux… it was a video of you dancing in Nayeon’s wedding. 

“W-wha–… I didn’t – who took that?” You whisper, sounding in awe. 

“Nayeon was apparently recording from the stage at that time.” Jungkook says, looking at you and smiling when he sees that you have your eyes glued to the screen. 

“This is so…” you trail off, but you don’t really say anything in continuation. 

Recent videos of you play, capturing moments from the two years you’ve been together. There’s that clip in Vienna, a few in Florence, Paris, Melbourne... It’s surreal to think that he captured those memories, never imagining they’d be used for something like this. 

Something in the way she knows

And all I have to do is think of her

Something in the things she shows me

I don't want to leave her now

You know I believe and how

The song fades to an end and so did the compilation of your videos. The screen shows Jungkook this time instead. He leaned towards the camera, checked the optics, and then smiled a little. From the background, you know it was taken by the wall of his room, near the window because you can see the Sanrio plushie you put on the table beside there. It’s a little out of frame but you can still recognize it. 

Then, he spoke. 

“Uhm, hi,” He started, and you hold your breath, feeling like you’re on the edge of your seat but not in that anxious way. “I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I’m thinking of doing this video… for my proposal – and ah, my proposal – wait, I really should’ve written a script for this but I wanted this to be natural as much as possible and I’m going off-track so we’ll move on to what I really wanna say,” 

You can’t help but laugh at that, and you hear Jungkook joining in with you. 

“__, you’re the love of my life. You’re my lover, but you’re my best friend most of all. I look back on the times we’ve spent together – a decade. There was no time in those years that I didn’t thank my lucky stars for knowing and meeting you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I really hope you know how much I love you because no matter how hard I try to put it into action and words, no amount of it would tell you how I truly feel.” A pause. Then he took out something from his pocket. Raising his hand, a red velvet box appeared in the frame. He was about to open it when suddenly, your voice is heard behind the camera. 

“Jungkook?” 

Jungkook quickly pocketed the box, and the camera shook a little, the angle now distorted, probably due to his panic upon hearing your voice. 

“Yes, baby?” The audio played. 

“You were doing something?” 

“Nah. Just trying out my new camera.” Jungkook said. 

“Oh. Lemme see.” 

The camera got picked up, and Jungkook switched the camera to you.

In your seat, you nibble on your bottom lip upon seeing your own face this time, a poor attempt to stop your jaw from breaking apart because you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling watching the whole thing. 

“Pretty girl.” You hear Jungkook say behind the recorder. His hand came up to caress your face in the video, thumb rubbing over your cheek. “I love you.” 

You looked confused at first but then you told him, anyway, “I love you too.” 

You leaned down, and the video gets switched out to another one of Jungkook on a different day. 

“Sorry the video got interrupted by my gorgeous girlfriend.”

You both laugh at that, and as if on cue, your eyes meet – silently acknowledging that you’re thinking the same thing. In that shared glance, it's clear you both understand how things escalated in that moment, that night – how that kiss turned into something more.

“I just wanted to say that, uh, I love her. No, you, I’m talking to you–” He sighed in the clip, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Anyway. I love you. I love you so much, baby. More than anything else in the world. I feel like I don’t say it enough although Taehyung teases me about convulsing if I can’t say it to you for no longer than five minutes – he’s probably right but that’s not the point. What I wanna say is – again – is that, I love you, __. And I want to spend the rest of my lifetime with you. I wanna grow old with you. Spend every day and every night with you. I want us to wake up together every morning, make our breakfast together, go to work together, do laundry together, our taxes – man, I don’t know. Anything. I just want to do anything and everything with you. Maybe adopt a dog in the near future, if you want to, that is. You’re probably gonna be watching this in the theater by this moment – god I hope I don’t fuck the whole thing up, the gang is gonna be so pissed – but I’ll drop the question for you and I know we already talked about it many times before and two months ago you said you were ready if I was also ready. I couldn’t tell you I’ve been ready since the first week we started dating. But I hope… what you felt two months ago is still what you feel right now…” 

Then, the big screen fades to black, and suddenly, a few lights in the hall flicker on, illuminating Jungkook—now on his knees. In his hand is a red velvet box, now open, revealing a stunning ring that’s so beautiful it leaves your jaw slack.

He clears his throat. “__, you’re my best friend. Have been and always will be. You’re my home, my partner. I will love you for as long as you let me and–” Jungkook doesn’t mean it but there’s suddenly a lump in his throat that forms along the way and he has to choke it back, making his voice crack a little bit as he looks into your eyes. “– and I really want to live all my remaining years with you and be yours forever.” He bites his lip, looks up at you with those doe eyes you love so much. Then, the question comes, “Can I be your husband?” 

“Jungkook…” You look down at him, your mouth opening and closing, lost for words. You’ve passed the point of holding back tears, and when your eyes meet his—so full of sincerity and revere—you completely break. “Y-yes. Yes! One hundred percent yes,” you manage to say through your sobs, nodding fervently as your vision blurs from the tears streaming down your face.

As soon as you say that, all the lights in the room turn on and there’s a holler from the direction of the projection room that you can’t help but look at. 

“Congrats!” 

You gasp as you see Doyeon and Nayeon. They’re both waving at you with huge grins on their faces. Genuinely surprised and confused at the same time, you start to look around, and suddenly, you realize that everybody is literally… your family. Taehyung, your dad, your mom, your sister and Seokjin all occupy the front rows, and in front of them are Jungkook’s own family as well. From afar, you see Jungkook’s father coming up to give your dad a hug which he reciprocates as they laugh together. 

Your eyes are drawn back to Jungkook. 

“Jungkook… they’re all here,” you say, struggling to hold back the onslaught of tears. They won’t stop.

And at this point, Jungkook can’t help it. Not anymore. He sees you crying and he can’t help but do it as well. He sniffs, taking your hand and kissing the back of your palm.

“Yes, baby. Everybody is here.”

“Baby, why are you crying?” You ask him despite yourself.

Jungkook chuckles in between his tears, swiping a hand on his eyes. “I’m just so happy. You make me so happy. Thank you. Thank you for saying yes.”

That makes you cry even more, earning another laugh from Jungkook but it’s filled with endearment. Slowly, he takes your hand and you watch teary-eyed as he finally inserts the ring around your ring finger. 

The diamond-encrusted band, with a larger diamond glimmering in the center, fits perfectly around your finger. You stare at it in awe, admiring how gorgeous it looks—trying to recall a time when Jungkook measured your finger to make it fit so flawlessly. But you can't remember, and you don't mind at all, instead looking up at him as he stands to his feet.

"I love you, Jungkook. I really do," you say with all the sincerity in your heart, hoping he knows as much.

"I can't wait to marry you," he replies, his voice full of emotion before he pulls you into his arms and leans down to kiss you gently on the lips. It’s soft and it’s sweet just like the love he’s given you all these years.

A cheer erupts around you, and normally, you'd feel shy about kissing in front of your family. But this time, you don’t feel embarrassed at all.

It’s just you and Jungkook. Bound for a lifetime of unadulterated love.

[leeechin]

𐀔 YOUR EYES ONLY [l.hs] ⊹ ꠋ ⋅

⋆ summary: you’re eager to give your boyfriend a nice birthday celebration on your free day from work, despite his late work schedule. ✧ pairing: idol!heeseung x model!reader

⌗ warnings: kinda cute in the beginning but then gets real nasty loool, alcohol consumption, slightly intoxicated sex, unprotected sex, hee spanks the reader literally 2 times, fingering by a skyline window, size kink, 2 different positions, oral (m.rec), creampie, nicknames & petnames, mdni. let me know if i forgot anything !

word count: 2.5k

(note: happy birthday to my man 👰🏻‍♀️ and yes, i changed the title from the original preview i posted a couple days ago :p. i know i’m late 🤦🏻‍♀️but it’s still his bday in my timezone so..)

★ find my other works here !

you couldn’t wait for heeseung to get home.

today was one of the only free days you had from your jam-packed schedule. but unfortunately it was not the same for your boyfriend. checking the time on your phone, it was around 10:30 ish, with heeseung usually coming home a couple hours earlier.

you ordered a set of cupcakes for heeseung to enjoy with you when he arrived back to the apartment you guys lived in, along with candles with the numbers of the age he was turning. you were eager.

and you might’ve also deliberately chosen a short white nightgown that covered the lacy panties you were wearing, choosing to not have a bra on, knowing how much heeseung would love that. that was a present for later, a robe covering your body to be revealed later.

pacing around the large living room to kill some time, you peer at the skyline view of the city at night, down the the busy road that was never empty, the cars looking so small from how far up your apartment unit was. you loved how heeseung picked a unit with such a nice view.

‘how much longer until he is home?!’ repeated in your head, continuously pacing around the living room, skipping by the window. you decide to blast some music and dance to it, letting your body flow to the music.

“did i make you wait that long, you’re dancing in our living room?” heeseung bursts out laughing, closing the door behind him. you jump at the sudden sound of his voice, but excitement takes over your face as you dash to your boyfriend, jumping into his arms and peppering kisses all over his face. “happy birthday hee.” you smile, arms wrapping around his neck as he held you up with both his hands. you wipe the residue of your lipstick off of his cheeks, placing your lips over his as he carried you near the dining table, carefully placing you down.

“what’s all this?” heeseung grins, glancing at the box of cupcakes, along with the fancy bottle of champagne with two glasses that you two only used for special occasions. you cling to heeseung, his taller frame enveloping you against his body in a hug, resting your chin on his chest as you look up to him.

“just a little something for the birthday boy.” you respond, eyes looking up adoringly to your boyfriend. heeseung swears he’s the luckiest man in the world, pulling you into another kiss, this time longer and you notice how heeseung’s hand roamed to the bottom of your nightgown, grasping a handful of your ass, causing you to gasp against his lips, giggling after you push him away. “enjoy the cupcakes and champagne first, hee.”

he nods, knowing how much effort you put into getting all these nice things for him, it’s the least he could do, especially with practice the past week running much later than it should be, making you go to sleep by yourself sometimes. but god, you just looked so cute in that nightgown, he wanted to devour you on the table.

“i love you so much y/n.” heeseung says, watching as you pour the fancy champagne into the two glasses. you smile, handing him a glass, clinking it with yours. your smile never leaves your face, as you’re overjoyed with the time spend you are spending with heeseung.

“i love you too, hee.” taking small sips of the champagne, you admire his after-practice look, you loved it when he wore compression shirts that hugged his body flawlessly. a small beat of silence fills the room that makes heeseung speak up.

“what’s on your mind pretty girl?” you take another sip from the glass, choosing to just down the rest of the drink. “just thinkin’ about the cupcakes. i’m gonna go get a lighter for the candles.” heeseung nods, as you jumped up from you seat, skipping to the kitchen, looking through the drawers for a lighter, your nightgown rising up to reveal your lace panties with each small jump. heeseung shifts in his seat, fighting the urge to follow you into that kitchen to forget about the cupcakes and bend you right then and there.

“i found it!” you exclaimed, emerging from the kitchen, grinning from ear to ear as you get closer to the table. you take out the two cupcakes that had the candles of the age he was turning. “my favorite flavor, how sweet.” pulling your waist flush against his as you fumble with the lighter to put on the candles. you tipsily sing a happy birthday, clapping your hands together infront of your boyfriend, being slightly off tune but, it didn’t matter.

sitting down to enjoy the cupcakes, you teasingly swiped a piece of frosting on your pointer finger to swipe on heeseung’s nose, giggling loudly at his reaction. he gets up to do the same to you, but you get up and run around the living room, heeseung chasing you until you stop by the large window that gave a skyline view of the city.

your back is facing towards heeseung as you admire how the stars are exposed so clear for you pupils to see. he takes this opportunity to sneak up behind you. “did you wear this on purpose for me?” he murmurs, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, his hands lower to under your nightgown, grasping at the soft flesh of your ass. your breath hitches, as you press your hands against the glass of the window, stabilizing yourself as you fall weak into heeseung’s touch.

“mm yes, just for you, hee.” pushing your hips back, desperate to feel more, but one of his hands grips your waist tightly to hold you in place. he pulls the bottom of your short nightgown up, to fully reveal your pantie-clad covered ass, his bulge forming painfully hard in his boxers. you whine as one of his hands kneads at the soft flesh of your ass, the other arching your back at an angle that had him groaning at the sight of your wetness seeping through your panties.

“all this, just for me.” he speaks, more to himself, but his words send another fresh wave of arousal as his cold fingers trace teasingly along your lower half. you keep your back arched, forehead and hands pressing against the window as you feel heeseung place a smack on one of your asscheeks. you let a moan, enjoying the contact.

“oh you like this, huh?” he taunts, placing a smack on the other side, a curse leaves his lips when he pulls down to your panties, looking at how it sticked to your folds. “mhmmm.” you hum, nails attempting to grasp at the hard glass of the window. “so wet too.” heeseung adds on, tracing his digits along your soaking heat.

“please hee, been waitin’ for you all day.” you whine, wiggling your hips as he continued his teasing touch. “since you said please, anything for you baby.” he obliges your request, wasting no time pump two of his thick digits into your tight cunt. gasps and moans of pleasure leave your lips and you leave your handprints on the window, blurring the glass. heeseung chuckles at you trying to keep yourself still, the simple pleasure of his two fingers making you feel so good.

the feeling of your tight walls continuously sucking in heeseung’s digits had him feeling like a mad man, he could nearly cum in his pants at the sight infront of him.

“feels so good!” you pant, the tips of his finger hitting that one spongy spot that had you spiraling. “yeah?” he responds, speeding his pace, leaving you a panting mess. ”already clenching so hard, are you gonna cum on the birthday boy’s fingers?” he pokes at you. you let out what heeseung would decipher as a ‘yes!’ making him add a third finger with his fast pace, feeling your slick drip down his hand to his wrist.

“you can cum anytime for me now, angel.” he coos at your ear, leaning forward to place a small kiss on the side of your nape. his hands rubbing your arched back gently as you ride out your orgasm, standing up straight. heeseung pulls up your panties so that you’re now wearing them again. but it doesn’t really help with anything because, he’s gonna rip it off of you once the two of you reach the bedroom.

heeseung picks you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he guides you to your shared room with a trail of messy kisses on the way.

“oh shit, keep doing that baby.” heeseung groans, head hitting the headboard of the bed as your warm mouth envelopes as much of his thick cock as you can. you hollow your cheek as you choke a little over halfway down his thickness, looking up with tears pooling at your waterline.

the sight is enough to heeseung to fill your mouth up, but he holds himself back. not knowing what to do with his hands except run them through your hair and make a soft grasp as he guides your head to bob up and down. your hand ran up to stroke at what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, heeseung letting out a string of curses and groans at the stimulation. you moan around him, the sight of his contorted face in pleasure making your panties uncomfortably soaking wet against your pussy.

“mm good girl. such a good present—fuck!” his eyes closing as he feels himself twitch in your mouth, only spurring your to suck harsher, sloppy sounds of your mouth around his cock fill the room. “gonna fill that mouth up, such a good fucking mouth.” heeseung babbles, guiding your head to bob faster as he chases his release, stilling his movements as he paints your throat white. you swallow his seed, opening and sticking out your tongue to show heeseung proof.

the birthday boy moans at your action, exhausted as he’s just gotten the best head ever, slumping his back against the headboard, chest heaving as he tries to regain his strength.

you take things into your own hands, crawling further up on the bed so that your now straddling both side of his thighs. giving heeseung a mini show as you sit up slightly, lighting your nightgown up so that he can watch the way you peel off your panties to reveal your puffy pussy for the second time of the night.

“heeseung, can i?” you ask, moving yourself to hover your entrance directly over the thick mushroom tip of his cock, eyes trailing down to his again, hardened length.

“mm yeah baby.” he groans, hands placing on your hips as he guides you down his thick cock, the stretch stinging slightly as he bottoms out. you stay still for a bit until you feel adjusted, taking slight control as you bounce yourself on him at a pace that both of you moaning in content. “hee, ‘s so big!” you mewl, hands finding purchase on his exposed chest, trailing your nails around the toned muscles. he lets out another moan in satisfaction, feeling himself nearly split you open.

you find a pace that has you seeing stars, riding on his cock ruthlessly. he lifts the bottom of your nightgown up to reveal your tits bouncing in tandem to your bounces, dangling in front of his face. heeseung couldn’t help but latch his mouth onto one of of your tits, tongue swirling around the hardened bud adding stimulation to the feeling of his cock hitting all the right spots.

your eyes shut tight as you slightly change the angle of his cock diving into you, tip repeatedly hitting your cervix. you were starting to feel tired and your legs were wearing out, heeseung noticing and taking things to his own hands, grabbing at both of your asscheeks to hold himself as he thrusted his hips up, making the both of you let out a moan in unison.

“fuckkkk, you’re always so tight.” heeseung rasps out, head hitting against the headboard again, the warmness of you wrapped around him, the grip on your ass moving to your hips to pull you on him repeatedly, meeting his sloppy thrusts. eyes looking down to where the two of you connected, the nasty sounds of your walls sucking him in sending you into overdrive.

“hee i’m cumming, fuck!” you nearly scream, barely giving him any time to process as your walls tighten even more around his thick cock, convulsing around him as you let the knot in your stomach untie. “oh shit.” he cursed in response, hands on your hips dragging you up and down as he chases for his own release, following you not long after, filling you deep with thick ribbons of cum.

you fall against his chest after you ride out your second orgasm, breathing heavily against him as he softly pats your back, allowing you to relax into his touch. but you know you’re not done yet.

with heeseung’s stamina, you knew that you had one or two more left in you. and your point was proven when he flips you onto your back, pulling your nightgown over your body fully, leaving you laying bare in his sight.

another curse leaves his lips, looking at your now ruined state. but he’s quick to pull both of your legs over his shoulder, his tip aligned to the entrance of your spent cunt. you let out a soft whine, attempting to buck your hips up to take in his tip. “you can take more?” he double checks, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

you’re quick to nod, too incoherent to say actual words when you feel him snap his hips harshly, filling you to the hilt, leaving you no time to adjust as he sets a merciless pace, cock dragging along your tight walls. you were splayed perfectly to him, the pretty sounds that escaped your lips being muffled by his moving against yours.

you pull away from the kiss, already feeling your third orgasm of the night approach, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you relish in the sounds of his hips hitting the back of your thighs, along with the nasty glide of his cock leaving your cunt and re-entering.

“such a good fuckin’ pussy.” heeseung praises, strings of groans following along. placing his hand over the small bulge in your stomach, seeing how deep he was in you. “you’re close again?” he adds on, hands moving to hold the sides of your face as he leans in to place another kiss on your lips, so sweet and tender, opposite from the way his hips battered his cock to your release. his name repeating like a prayer when your orgasm approaches again, no warning as you loosen your body, walls clenching even tighter as you milk every last drop around your boyfriend.

you let out a soft moan of relief as you feel him paint your walls white for the second time. heeseung tiredly flopping onto his back and pulling your into an embrace where your face rested against his chest.

“so pretty baby.” he hums, fingers running through strands of your hair, you looking up to him with half lidded eyes as you mumbled another ‘happy birthday’ before drifting of to sleep.

— @00kittenz @selleprotection @simbabyj @friendlyuser57

i didn’t know how to end this off sorry 💔💔

[enhaheeseung]

BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, cursing, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 2,072k

Note: I'm just writing a few drabbles for now, hoping to get my engagement up a bit. This is really rushed, so it’s not good, but oh well.

Part 2 Part 3

-

“Babe, when are you coming to bed?”

It’s twelve am, and you have been waiting hours past your bedtime so you can finally go to sleep with your boyfriend for the first time in literal months.

It’s been a while since he started working from home, and you thought that would free up some space for you both to spend time together.

You thought you guys could go back to normal like how you used to be but now it seemed like he worked even more after being able to work from home on top of his promotion.

You received no answer, and you sighed. This had been going on for months, him ignoring you and solely focusing on work. You disappointedly slipped under the covers so you could patiently wait for him to be finished.

Staring at the clock, you counted down every minute until a full thirty minutes passed.

You decided to give it another go thinking half hour may have been enough time for him to conclude his work. “Honey, it’s so late,” your voice is groggy, eyes half opened, and you’re still worried about your boyfriend’s well-being. How could you not be when he barely ate and barely slept anymore? The last time you two spent quality time together was so long ago you couldn’t even remember. “Please come to bed. I know you’re tired.”

He snaps at your words, only increasing the annoyance that he currently feels. “Can you just stop talking, damn?!” He agitatedly shouts out of nowhere, turning his head in your direction with an angry expression plastered on his tired features.

Startled by the sudden loudness of his tone you jumped a little bit not used to him speaking to you that way. “S-sorry I was just worried” you tucked back under the covers your heart aching in your chest cause of what he said to you.

He was always on edge lately, but you never received that type of treatment from him. Ever even in your five years of dating, he has always been respectful to you.

“You’re sorry?” he scoffs. “You should be sorry I’m the one working hard every day to provide for you and all the frivolous bullshit you buy, and this is the thanks I get. Do me a favor and stop fucking bothering me while I’m working,” he rubs his temples, turning his attention back to his computer.

It most certainly wasn’t the first time he’d said such harsh words to you after your constant nagging for him to eat and sleep more, but this was the first time you felt pure anger from him, and it worried you cause he was never this bad before and you feared that as time went on like this it would just get worse.

“O-okay.” You looked at his stressed back, noticing how tense his shoulders were, and you felt bad knowing he was taking on all of the work to provide for you both. Apparently, all you were doing was bothering him, but you weren’t doing it intentionally. “I guess it’s a crime to care about my boyfriend.” Your voice broke a little, and you turned your back to him, calling it quits for the night. He could come to bed whenever he wanted.

“You know what?” He shuts the computer and sighs. “I think.” he pauses for a moment, the silence getting the best of your nerves cause you were scared about what he was going to say. “We should just break up.”

His words dangle in the air for minutes, and within those minutes, you feel tears pricking your eyes and your heart breaking into little tiny bits. “Hee-“ you sat up now, looking at him with your bloodshot eyes.

“I know you’re going to run down every reason why we shouldn’t, but I’m done. I’m tired of this, and I’m tired of talking. I can’t do it anymore, and nothing you say can ever change my mind.”

You’re left absolutely speechless too stunned to even say anything not to say he would want to hear it or listen now anyway.

You’ve spent so many long years of your life with him that you couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else besides him you thought that he was your happy ever after and to hear him say he wants to break up felt like a dream a very bad dream never in your life did you ever think he’d say the words but he did and it came out so easily like he’s been wanting to say it but only now decided to.

And the thought made you upset because if he’s been feeling this way for this long why did he even bother to string you along knowing he didn’t see a future with you anymore after your guys relationship went downhill?

In the midst of your thoughts his voice brings you back to the present. “I’ll call your mom in the morning so you can get all your stuff and be out by tomorrow.” You don’t respond, and the only thing you hear for the next few hours is typing on a keyboard.

You would go to the sofa, but you’re literally glued to the bed, paralyzed by grief.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and they definitely didn’t stop once he came to bed. If anything, they got worse when you felt his warmth so close to you but yet so far away.

He tried slipping his hand around your waist, but you slapped it away. “Don’t touch me,” you say through your heartbroken cries.

He immediately retracted his hand, a little surprised at first by how quickly you rejected his touch.

He didn’t care really he just thought it might comfort you a little so you could sleep since you’ve been up crying for literally hours but it didn’t matter one way or the other to him as he turned on his side and shut his lamp off.

Heeseung slept soundly while you lay awake, crying every last tear you had left in you.

-

When morning struck, heeseungs alarm woke him up. His eyes shot open, and he quickly grabbed his phone, turning the awful sound off.

He turned towards your side of the bed and patted the soft material in search of your warmth, but he found none.

His eyes opened, and he was met with a few luggage bags that looked to be packed already. He sat up confused for a moment until memories of last night flooded his mind.

He heard a rustle coming from the closet, and you appeared a second later, already fully dressed this early in the morning. Usually, you would still be asleep when he started work.

But obviously, today was different.

His eyes shifted throughout the room. Most of your stuff was already gone.

As you walked to each end of the room collecting your stuff, his eyes followed you, watching your every movement.

The moment he saw you grabbing all your ornaments, he felt an ache in his chest.

You didn’t have much in the bedroom, but those little ornaments had you written all over them, and it was one of the few things that made it obvious to him that he wasn’t living alone, and seeing them all getting wiped out made him feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n?” He mumbled out while nervously picking at his nails.

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t. He said he was done talking, and so were you. Last night, you came to terms with this. It took hours, but you just accepted it.

You had to.

Were you going to miss him?

Yes.

Was it going to hurt?

Yes.

But you didn’t want to be in his life if he didn’t want you to be in his.

You continued to pick up the little porcelain cat decorations, and that’s when he decided to slip out from under the covers and walk over to you, standing behind you and taking the figurine from your hand, setting it back down where it had been sitting for the last couple of years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in your ear while back hugging you, the warmth of his bare chest sending electricity throughout your body. “About last night, sweetheart, I was just tired and said a lot of things I didn’t mean, and I know that it sounds like a shitty excuse, but I really didn’t mean it, baby. I’ve just been so stressed lately, and I hate myself for taking it out on you. I’m so sorry I made you cry.” he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent, the one he’d been missing for months.

You hated yourself for the way you melted into his arms after all the things he said to you last night, but it’s just been so long since you felt his touch on you that you couldn’t help it.

You leaned into him, his body pressing flush against yours. It felt so good being in his strong arms again.

But as fast as you melted, you hardened up even quicker, slipping out of his grasp.

You started packing up your things again, keeping a good distance from him because right now you know you could easily forgive him, but you didn’t want to because there’s no way he could say what he said to you last night and change up so quickly in the morning you weren’t falling for it.

When you walked by him, he quickly extended his hand, grabbing you by your elbow, pulling you into his chest, and hugging you closely. “Little one, please forgive me.” he rested his chin atop your head, stroking your back softly. “I need you. Love, without you, I don’t have anything, you know that. Remember, I’ve told you so many times everything I do is all for you. I know I made a mistake, but I’m sorry. Please forgive me, please?” His voice shook slightly, and you could feel just how fast his heart was beating against your chest and the words were on the tip of your tongue, but for the way you feel right now, you think breaking up would just be for the best.

You two were living different lives, and the compatibility wasn’t aligned anymore. As much as you hated living a life without him, the thought of living a life where he was working and you were being neglected was something you hated even more.

Your breath got caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against your neck. “Please,” he begged in between each soft kiss he left on your neck. “Say something, please,” he sniffles softly and rests his palms over your stomach.

You peeled his hand off your body, turning around to tell him that you were done straight to his face, but it was so hard cause he looked absolutely distraught. “Heeseung, I’m leaving, and that’s final.”

The sob he let out almost made you break down in tears yourself. He tried to cover it by cupping his mouth, but it was too late. It was one of the most heartbreaking things you’ve ever heard from him, and you had to leave now before you ended up forgiving him.

You quickly grabbed your things, wheeling them to the front door with him close behind you. “I can’t let you go, y/n. I-I love you.” his arms were secured around you again, and you stood there, trying to remain as emotionless as possible until he finally let go of you. “So that’s just it? What am I supposed to do without you, baby?” He asked warm tears running down his cheeks he looked so sad and vulnerable.

“You said you were tired of talking, and at this point, so am I. Goodbye, heeseung. I hope work treats you better than I ever could.” You unlocked the front door and opened it.

“Y/n-“

“Enough!” You shouted at him, losing your patience finally and letting all your months of pent-up anger get the best of you.

He stood there completely stunned by you raising your voice at him, and it left him speechless.

Even though his mouth was parted like he wanted to say something, the words just never made their way out.

The last thing you saw before slamming the door was his sad, tearful expression, but this was what he asked for, and he got it.

-

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[headspace-hotel]

Researching herbicide resistance in weeds.

A decade ago, everyone said rotating applications of different herbicides was key to stopping herbicide resistance.

Then, around 2015, evidence from a large study emerged saying that this actually causes weeds to be MORE resistant, so the best thing to do is to spray a combination of multiple herbicides mixed together at once.

Now that is being called into question too. Whoda thunk it...

Herbicide resistance among weeds is only getting stronger. Recently, scientists found an annual bluegrass (Poa annua) on a golf course that was resistant to seven herbicide modes of action at once. Seven. SEVEN. Amaranth plants been found with resistance to six herbicide modes of action at once. Twenty years ago, the narrative was that resistance to glyphosate (Roundup) was unlikely to become widespread; today it's the second-most common type of resistance.

What's more, plants are developing types of herbicide resistance that are effective against multiple herbicides at once and harder to detect. Instead of changing the chemical processes within them that are affected by the herbicides so the herbicides don't work as well, they're changing the way they absorb chemicals in the first place. Resistant plants are producing enzymes that detoxify the herbicides before they even enter the plants' cells.

It took Monsanto ten years to develop crop varieties resistant to Dicamba (after weeds made 'Roundup Ready' crops pointless). Palmer amaranth evolved Dicamba resistance in five years.

So I asked, "Why are all the proposed solutions dependent on using more herbicides, when we know damn well that this is going to do nothing but make the weeds evolve faster?"

The answer is that chemical companies have the world in a death grip. They can't make money off non-chemical solutions, so chemical solutions get all the funding, research, and outreach to farmers.

But why do chemical companies have so much power?

One of the biggest reasons is the U.S. military.

In the Vietnam war, all of Vietnam was sprayed with toxic herbicides like Agent Orange, which was incredibly toxic to humans and affected the Vietnamese population with horrible illnesses and birth defects. Monsanto, the company that made the herbicides, knew that it did this, but didn't tell anyone. The US government didn't admit that they'd poisoned humans on a mass scale until Vietnam veterans started dying and coming down with horrible illnesses, and even then, it took them 40 years. (My Papaw died at 60 because of that stuff.) And the soldiers weren't there for very long. As for the Vietnamese people, the soil and water where they live is contaminated.

Similarly, during the "war on drugs," the US military sprayed Roundup and other chemicals on fields to destroy coca plants and other plants used in the manufacturing of drugs. This killed a lot of crops that farmers needed to live, and caused major health problems in places such as Columbia. The US government said that people getting sick were lying and that Roundup was just as safe as table salt. (A statement that did not age well.)

So chemical companies make money off arming the USA military. The American lawn care industry, and the agricultural system, therefore originates in more than one way from the United States's war-mongering.

The other major way is described in this article (which I highly recommend), which describes how after WW2, chemical plants used for manufacturing explosives were changed into fertilizer producing plants, but chemical companies couldn't market all that fertilizer to farmers, so they invented the lawn care industry. No exaggeration, that's literally what happened.

This really changes my perspective on all the writings about fixing the agricultural system. The resources are biased towards the use of chemicals in agriculture because the companies are so powerful as to make outreach and research for non-chemical methods of agriculture really hard to fund. All the funding is in finding new ways to spray chemicals or spraying slightly different chemicals, because that's what you can actually get ahold of money to look into. It is like the research has to negotiate a truce with the chemical companies, suggesting only solutions that won't cause lower profits.

Meanwhile my respect for Amaranth is skyrocketing.

Who would win: The USA military-industrial complex or one leafy boi

[suugarbabe]

I had just gotten the cutest fluffiest tooth rotting sweet idea for a fanfic I've ever gotten.

You know how there is a type of color blindness called red green color blind? It's basically green turns to yellow and red to brown and well fellow and blue stay the same.

So what if reader is red green color blind and her favorite color is blue since it's the only special color she can see and since Theo's eyes are blue when she sees his eyes she gets really excited, wi excited that she just grabs Theo's face so she can get a better look.

I feel like the reader need to have a cherry and bubbly personality because she needs to be very very clueless to just grab someone's face because of how exited she would get.

i've quite literally been obsessed with this ask since you've sent it, and i've gone back and forth on how to write it completely, then went through a little bit of writers block altogether so hopefully i do this justice and close to how you might have envisioned it.

You were really young when it happened, the accident that caused it. Mum was proficient in potions, and you just wanted to be just like her. But a four year old really shouldn't have been messing with her things. It all happened so fast, your little mind just thought you were playing, copying what you've seen her do. Throwing a little of this and a little of that in the cauldron, pouring the pretty blue liquid inside. You had picked it because it was your favorite color, which, looking back seems incredibly ironic.

The explosion was quick but it shook your entire house. Your parents had come rushing in, only to find you sitting up against the far wall, eyebrows gone and lower lip quivering. It has taken about six months before anyone was aware of what it did to you. You were so young and the experience was, well, pretty traumatic so you never really said anything about the changes.

Everyone thought you consistently picked the blue things because it was your favorite color. And while that was slightly true, it was also the only color you were able to see completely. You could occasionally see very dull shades of other colors, extremely muted or like you were seeing them through a layer of grey tissue paper.

Your parents never made too big of a deal out of the situation, instead just teaching you how to by hyper vigilant for specific details you could notice to help you out. Like the difference in how a ruby felt to an emerald, or how gum root smelled versus hickory drip. So overall you had learned to manage. And truly you didn't think you were missing out on much.

In your opinion all of the best things were blue. The ocean on a bright summers day, the sky on a crisp fall morning, the shine on a sapphire, and of course, your Ravenclaw robes. Your 'condition' was spread throughout the school by Christmas holiday your first year. It wasn't something you kept a secret, but it also wasn't something you spread around like you'd won the quidditch world cup.

It didn't bother you that people knew, but it did change how some people saw you. When you were younger, they tried to tease you, tried to call you a freak, tell you that you wouldn't amount to much as "you'd never be successful with such a limitation." It's a wonder what a loving family and supportive friends can do to keep one grounded and happy. As despite all those negative words in your early years, you were still so bright and bubbly.

You had gotten used to how you viewed things a long time ago, but that didn't stop you from being marveled at new discoveries. Which is what had you following a very tall and lanky Slytherin boy down the hall. You had noticed it by accident, as he passed you in the hall. You knew who he was, were well aware of his and his little gang's reputation. But you liked to form your own opinions from experience, and you hadn't quite interacted with this particular member yet.

Your friends had called after you, but after seeing the determined pep in your step had just settled for following. When you had finally caught up to him you wrapped your arms around his bicep, spinning him round to face you. "What the-," he was cut off by your hands grabbing hold of either side of his face, delicate thumbs resting on his sharp cheek bones to hold him still.

"Merlin, Theo, your eyes they're...gods they're like water colors." Theo was thoroughly caught off guard. Not only by the pretty girl holding his face but by the words coming from her mouth. "Oh sweet Rowena, they've just shifted, what are you thinking about?" He did his best not to stutter, "Erm, I...," you could feel his cheeks heat beneath your palm and your smile was instant, "I've not heard that description before. Usually they just say like the ocean or the sky or whatever."

Your thumbs rubbed gently on the apples of his cheeks. "Oh, they're much more than that. They're like...when you first dip your brush into the prettiest pallet after a dip in the water, then when you make the first brushstroke, and the color spreads so perfectly, shifting hues of blue. That's them...your eyes."

No sooner had you finished your explanation were his lips on yours. It was unexpected, catching you off guard but not unpleasantly. His mouth slotted against yours seemingly effortlessly, your hands slipping form his cheeks to loop around his neck and his hands found solace on your waist. His eyes are what drew you in but his lips, merlin you could get used to those.

"Oi, Nott. Who're ya-," The interruption caused the two of you to break apart abruptly, you wiping your slightly swollen lips and straightening where Theo was gripping your skirt. "Oh, no fucking way," Enzo Berkshire's voice sounded as smug as the look on his face. Theo simply threw up his middle finger at the boy before turning to you, small grin on his face.

"Erm, sorry for bombarding you like that its just-," You shook your head, cutting him off, "S'okay." Theo's grin grew two times, "Can I see you think weekend? Coming to the Slytherin party?" You nodded, biting your bottom lip to try and contain your growing smile. Theo placed a kiss on your forehead before looking you in your eyes, more so so you could see his one last time. Then with a wink, he turned and ran to catch up with his friend.

[wonysugar]

close the door | hanni pham

synopsis : you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she.

genre : fluffy smut!

pairing : non-idol!hanni x gf!femreader

tags : they’re in love your honor, lots of kissing and making out, cuddling, l-bombs, top!femreader, bottom!hanni, they’re both virgins, fingering, clit play, nipple play, neck kissing, hanni’s dogs are mentioned twice lawl, lots of comfort, lots of consent! they’re literally just lovey dovey girlfriends having sex for the first time aheheh

warnings : none :]

word count : 2.5k

a/n : if you’re rereading this and thinking “hey the synopsis changed and there wasn’t an author’s note before!!” well you’d be right I POSTED THIS IN A RUSH I’M SO SORRYYFKEJF

anyways!! this is just to say that this fic is inspired by the lovely writer that is sorry for tagging you twice ahh @facefullofsadness’s fic right over here :] sooo GO READ THAT FIRST! it’s truly lovely and i really enjoyed reading it, hence why i wrote thisskfke. thank you for readingg<33

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

you would die for your girlfriend, actually, even if you only started dating barely a few months ago. who could blame you? that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends prior to your relationship for so, so, so long. it simply started with a ‘hi! my name’s hanni! what’s yours?’ from her part at the innocent age of seven and just like that, years later, you guys were still inseparable. 

so really, your life-long friendship and months-long relationship were both with the same gorgeous and outgoing girl, and the only thing distinguishing those two was the label you used to describe them.

“bro i genuinely don’t understand why he doesn’t just… run away. cause— get this, there’s obviously a murderer in his house right? and what does he decide to do about that? just stay in there. like, okay.. like i’m aware they needed plot but lord, i don’t know at least make it somewhat realistic you know what i mean—“ was what your girlfriend said, on her bed as she sat down in between your legs and leaned her back against you, her head facing forward and resting on your shoulder.

you simply nodded along to her words as you played with her hair, trying your hardest to stay focused on the piece of media before you whilst also paying your utmost attention to her, despite her constant ranting and criticizing of the entire movie. you, having originally liked the film, were now conflicted about your opinion on it. it’s not like she was wrong, her very heavy criticism had to have come from somewhere, after all, but you couldn’t help but slightly appreciate the storyline. so, you weren’t really sure what you felt about it anymore.

one thing you were certain of, however, 

was that your girlfriend looked really good while passionately rambling. like, way too good. she had tied her dark hair into a high ponytail, it also looked wavy due to the rain that was pouring on you guys earlier, her messy bangs fell perfectly onto her forehead. and her smile? it always looked perfect. she always looked perfect. 

and since you apparently weren’t hiding your admiration well enough, she very quickly noticed it.

she giggled teasingly. her voice sweet like honey, her australian accent more prominent than usual, she spoke up, “hello?” before full-on laughing, “were you even listening to me?”

you could only kiss her, that seemed like the only appropriate response in the heat of the moment. she, of course, kissed back just as lovingly before pulling away moments after, a curious and confused look on her face. 

“no seriously, what is up with you?” she kept teasing, smiling stupidly as she kept her gaze lingering on yours for the following seconds, her eyes unconsciously drifting to your lips. “you look stupid.”

“and you look really pretty.” was what you whispered back to her, earning a shy smile and an exaggerated eye roll from her. immediately, you made your lips come into contact with hers again. it felt as if the world would stop spinning if you didn’t, like a slowly growing urge to keep touching her suddenly came over you and you needed to fill it.

“so.. so pretty.” you mumbled, so quietly that it was almost to yourself, before going back in. you allowed yourself to make the kiss deeper and slid her tongue across her soft lips as you demanded entrance. you could hear her let out slight noises, she clearly was not expecting you to do anything of the sorts, at least not right now. she was a tad bit confused, but let you in, who in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to kiss their girlfriend? immediately, your hands wrapped around her waist whilst you continued kissing her lovingly, your tongue roaming every part of her mouth.

it didn’t take long before your hands started naturally reaching under her top, caressing on her tummy and progressively going higher with each sound she let out.

you pulled away, slightly worried of going too far, “c-can.. can i continue, hanni?”

you were scared, terrified, even! despite knowing each other for years, you’d only been dating for a few months; those are two completely different things! it’s not like you see your completely platonic best friend’s naked body every tuesday. even then, despite dating, you still haven’t gotten that stage of the relationship. and on top of that,

the two of you were a proper pair of virgins. you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she. you didn’t want to seem like an inexperienced loser to her, you wanted to take care of her and make her feel good. what if that didn’t happen? what if you made it awkward between the two of you?? it was nerve-racking.

as if barging into your mind and reading your thoughts, wanting to reassure you, she grabbed your hand in a gentle manner before nodding. then, she spoke up, “can you close the door?”

“there’s.. nobody home, though?”

she giggled, “oh i know, it’s just that i don’t want the dogs to potentially walk in on this.”

you groaned dramatically, laughing and insisting that you were too lazy to get up and that her dogs wouldn’t understand the situation if they even walked in. she, in response, just tapped your knee with a cheeky smile, encouraging you to stand up.

“come on y/n, close the door. think about milly and mia; think about their innocence!” she exaggerated.

after playfully hitting her arm and laughing along with her, you got up, proceeded to close and lock the door like she asked you to and eventually walked back to her bed, sitting back on it and positioning yourself the way you originally were, her back to you again. 

“happy?” you asked in a fake arrogant tone.

she hummed, radiant, “yes, very happy.” before turning her head just right and kissing you again.

eventually back to the original rhythm of the kiss, you placed your hands back on her stomach again, slowly caressing and teasing higher and higher with time. once you reached her bra, you proceeded to impatiently unhook it, immediately taking it off of her.

her breathing got heavier with each second that passed, partially due to nervousness, probably. you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the case for you too. the more your hands carefully roamed her body, the more self-conscious you got, you truly had no idea what you were doing. 

then, as if something in your mind clicked, you had an idea. what if you just did to her whatever you enjoyed doing to yourself in moments like these? that could work.. right? maybe??

you glided your hand upwards, your finger lightly grazing her nipple. in response to the sudden movement, a lewd sound accidentally escaped from her pretty lips, her breath hitching. that sound was a small moan.

a small one, barely audible, yet it was still enough for you to feel the activation of every single neuron residing in your brain.

then suddenly, it’s like the concept of making love to her wasn’t as nerve-racking as it originally was.

“s-sorry..” she apologized, seeming slightly embarrassed.

you kissed her cheek, reassuring her, “don’t apologize, i wanna hear you.”

despite it being an accident, she seemed to enjoy the sensation of your hand on her chest, so you went back to teasing her tits and gently groping them before you eventually asked, “is it okay if i go further..?”

nodding in a keen manner, she swallowed her saliva, then breathed out her response, “yes. yes keep— keep going. please.”

well shit! even if you wanted to stop, it’s not like you could, not with how good she sounded pleading for you.

not wasting any more time, you proceeded to separate one of your hands from her chest and quickly slid it downwards; to the band of her sweatpants. now, of course, your other hand was still in its original place, working its magic, but you wanted her to feel more. so much more.

you wanted to convey every surge of affection you violently felt for her into pleasure. and, if there was one thing you surely knew how to do, it was kissing her. 

so, you started kissing on her neck, which she didn’t expect whatsoever, and still heavily concentrated on the hand you had on her breast. then, you pulled on the sleeve of her tee just enough to expose her shoulder and moved your mouth towards it, nipping and gently licking it.

your hand now fully slipped into her pants, you teased her entrance through the fabric of her underwear as you kept kissing her naked shoulder. you listened to her attentively and took mental notes of her reactions; so far, her breathing got heavier, her thighs slightly clenched around your hand and she was now frequently biting her lip. 

plus, her panties were wet. 

did all of that mean you were doing good? …perhaps it did!

and did her drenched underwear make you short circuit? perhaps it did as well!

“d-d’you feel okay?” you asked, before going back to slowly kissing her shoulder. she threw you a quick glance, chest heaving up and down. 

“s-so okay.” she giggled.

her smile being contagious, you found yourself doing the exact same thing, content with the answer she gave you.

soon enough, you traced your finger up her clothed slit before eventually sliding it into the undergarment she wore, making her shudder. after what felt like an eternity, you could feel her slick coat your digits from one swipe of the finger. 

it was tantalizing.

growing impatient, you quickly yet carefully settled your middle and ring finger on her swollen clit, making slow circular motions on it, looking at her in the process. full on whimpering, this time, she stared back at you, no longer embarrassed. she wanted to let you know how good you were making her feel, hence why she was getting louder with each movement you made, and it filled you with enough confidence and adrenaline to gently push her head towards you, leaning in for a kiss.

thankfully, she kissed you back, deeply at that, her eyes closed and her quiet moans muffled.

you pulled away after a few moments, “tell me if it hurts, okay?” you reminded her. she simply nodded, brain all fuzzy from arousal.

she grabbed your other hand and intertwined her fingers with yours. “g-go slowly.” she whispered.

“i will.” you affirmed.

slowly and gently, you slid your fingers into her core, making sure not to go too fast or too rough. thankfully, the wetness was making it easier for you, and probably for her as well. every time that your girlfriend’s breath hitched, that her hand gripped harder on yours or, hell, every time that her eyes closed, you stopped in your tracks and double checked to see if you were hurting her, so it took a little while for your digits to fully penetrate her. 

fortunately, she assured you that you weren’t, in fact, hurting her. some moments just felt more comfortable than others, is all.

once they were fully in, you gave her time to get used to the feeling, still double checking on her state every now and then. after a few deep breaths, she nodded.

“i-i’m ready.”

you started to pump your fingers in and out of her, taking in all of her as your speed slowly increased as time went on. naturally, as more time passed, you felt the urge to make her feel good get even stronger.

that’s when you decided to increase the pace, your fingers curling on just the right spot inside her, pumping faster and faster as your thumb played with her clit.

“is this okay baby—” you asked.

“f-fuck— yes y/n that feels good—“ was what she moaned out, cutting you off. a feeling of bliss progressively and clearly overtaking her whole body.

when you tried to look at her despite only being able to see her side profile, you could’ve sworn you saw an angel. her cheeks were slightly tinted with a pinkish color and her eyebrows were upturned, her whole face contorted with pleasure, her skin glistening with sweat. her eyes hooded with lust, hanni looked down at herself and attentively watched as you played with her. your fingers swimming in her slick, navigating in her folds the way a skilled sailor would the vast ocean, it was hypnotizing, and she realized how this was probably the way you got yourself off on a regular day, and she couldn’t help but moan at both the thought and the sensation. 

you made her feel good, you made her feel happy, loved. you always did.

amidst the chaos that was her messy bed, the setting somehow looked better than every piece of artwork you’d ever seen combined. the bed creaked ever so slightly, and she looked and sounded so beautiful, especially with the way the sun set directly on her parted lips at that moment. 

you were certain that your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“i love you so much, hanni.” you softly said, kissing the back of her ear whilst you kept fingering her. she couldn’t form proper words, so she simply tightened her grip on your hand more, as a way to say it back.

then, once you picked up a stable pace for a few minutes, her back arched against you, her breathing getting heavier, practically panting. her hand’s grip on yours getting tighter, you felt her hot breath hit your neck once she settled her head into the crook of it.

“y/n— baby i think i’m- i’m— mmh—“

that was the moment she reached climax, letting out a long and loud moan as she rode out her orgasm, bucking her hips against your hand before smashing her lips onto yours. quietly, she let a few i love yous slip out of her mouth between kisses, her hand resting on your head, fingers intertwined with your soft hair. 

you particularly made sure to say it back to her every time.

you pulled out your fingers and took your hand out of her pants. still coming down from her high, she smiled at you with tired eyes and kissed your cheek. you smiled back, looking at her lovingly.

“d-did i do okay?” 

she giggled, “..are you seriously asking me that? do you not see me right now?” 

you raised your eyebrows, playful, “for all i know you were faking it.”

“yeah, actually.. i was faking it, especially with how wet i was from the whole thing. aren’t i such a good actor y/n? it’s almost like i legitimately came really hard—”

“shut up.” you elbowed her, laughing. she gave you a cheeky smile before she got up from the bed, grabbed a pair of new underwear from her drawer and opened the bedroom door, heading straight towards the living room to pet her dogs after changing. 

“hey y/n?”

“hm?”

“…wanna bake brownies in a bit?” 

“uhm.. yes? what kind of question is that?? let me just go wash my hands first.” you replied, getting up and walking towards the bathroom before adding on, “unless you wanna eat very unsanitary cum-buttered brownies, of course—“

you heard her contagious laugh from across the hallway, making you smile to yourself, “you’re fucking disgusting— go wash your hands, you weirdo!”

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

[ludwig-van-gaythoven]

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 5

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, underage drinking, Claustrophobia, homophobia mention

Parts;

Part1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

“Why the fuck is Regina in your room? Why are you even speaking to her? Dude! Fucking answer me!”

Janis’s voice is so loud down the tiny phone speaker that it makes it buzz like an annoying little mosquito.

You scowl and resist the creeping urge to hang up, and throw your phone far far away, maybe off a cliff. You click the volume down and try and muffle the sound of Janis ranting down the speaker by shoving the receiver deep into your pocket, but it’s too late.

Regina has already left. Her bedsheets are left thrown back and crumpled, she usually fixes the blankets back to perfection so she clearly left in a hurry.

You grab your jacket with a huff and stomp outside the cabin to stand in your usual smoking spot and light a much needed cigarette before putting the phone up to you ear.

Janis is still yelling, finishing a sentence you didn’t hear the start of. Some accusation about alliances with the enemy.

“Fucking hell, Janis! It’s not that big of a deal!” You finally snap.

The phone goes silent. It’s a welcome break but you know she’ll start up again.

“Yeah sure, my best friend suddenly being pals with Regina George, not a big deal.” She snarks. “Can I just remind you, that bitch nearly ruined my life! Is that why you’re ignoring my calls? Because you’re too busy becoming plastic?”

You sigh. “It’s not like that.”

That’s true. You haven’t been morphed into some sort of Barbie doll all of a sudden just because you spent some time with Regina. To be truthful, you realise Regina isn’t really like that either. She’s a little messy, she’s flawed, but you think she’s more perfect like that. Your face softens slightly at the memory of yesterday, her mascara dripping down her cheeks with a big grin plastered on her face. She wears a fake mask to protect anyone from seeing her real personality. You get it. It’s easier to take a rejection when you haven’t really shown your true identity.

Your heart aches to defend her. To tell Janis to back off, but you can’t. She wouldn’t understand.

“Look, she got roomed with me because she got drunk with Gretchen and Karen on the first night so the teachers wanted to split them up.” You explain as calmly as you can while your blood boils beneath the surface.

“So why didn’t you think to mention this when I called last?” She snaps back. She’s caught you there.

“Because I knew you’d go all revenge-crazed and pissed off like this!” You shout back. You hear Janis scoff.

“Whatever, I don’t give a shit about Regina. She literally means nothing to me! Less than nothing, I just want to see that bitch suffer-“

“Then why can’t you stop talking about her!” As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them.

“Fuck you, man.” She doesn’t even give you a second before hanging up.

You take a long draw of the cigarette that’s spent most of its time burning away between your fingers. You felt guilty about arguing with Janis, she’d been your best friend since the start of high school, and you could still see the pain that Regina had caused was still playing on her. You didn’t know the full details but you knew that Regina had outed her in a cruel way and made her out to be obsessed just so she could be with a boy. But that was a while ago, people can change.

So why hadn’t you been able to tell her that you liked girls when she hinted at it? You couldn’t even trust her fully.

You couldn’t help your mind wandering to where Regina might be. That seems to be all you can think about recently. Regina. You never fell for her Queen Bee attitude, high school drama was boring to you, you’d rather steer clear of it. But this new, playful, carefree side to her? You couldn’t get enough of.

She’s probably snuck off to meet Gretchen and Karen. You were surprised that she’d actually followed rules for once and not gone to meet them yet. Was it because you had been there with her instead? She said last night that she had enjoyed hanging out with you.

How much of the phone call had she heard before she left?

You light another cigarette. It’s not like you to chain smoke like this but you can’t help it when you’re stressed. The smoke whirls out in front of you, lines of wispy grey entangle and then disappear in-front of your eyes.

You head back inside the cabin when you’re done. Regina still isn’t back.

You lift your bedsheets ready to try unsuccessfully to get some sort of rest and find tiny pieces of paper, shredded on your mattress. It’s the drawing Regina took.

She clearly heard more than she was meant to.

You brush it onto the floor, not bothering to collect the tiny scraps, that felt more like little broken pieces of your soul.

When you finally close your eyes you’re back in the clearing. This time you don’t feel afraid and you automatically start scanning the shadows between the trees. A pair of blue eyes catch yours, as usual, but as soon as you take a step forward,the big cat slinks back into the shadows and disappears.

When you wake up, Regina still isn’t back. Your stomach sinks. She probably won’t want to speak to you ever again, you won’t even get a chance to explain.

You know you have to be up and ready in 20 minutes but you don’t want to get out of bed, or risk bumping into Regina.

It’s pretty hot outside and you’re not sure what the activity will be today so you put on a black tank and some loose khaki trousers. Regina must have been back when you were asleep because her bed is made and her cupboard door is left open.

When you go over to the campfire pit, she is already there. She’s standing around with the usual two girls but she’s also next to Shane Oman.

That makes you nauseous. He’s grinning and so obviously checking Regina out.

She starts running her hand up and down his bicep and over his chest, giggling and leaning into him. He’s loving it and has a hand around her waist. You turn around so you don’t have to look at whatever show they’re putting on.

It feels like she’s doing it just to spite you.

Seeing her that close to him makes your stomach knot with jealousy, it shouldn’t, it’s not like you’re together.

“Okay everyone listen up! Today and tomorrow are the last days of camp, so you will be hiking and setting up your own camp for tonight. This will combine all of the skills you have learnt this week!” There’s a dull chatter of excitement as maps are passed around and people start getting into groups.

You secretly hoped you’d be paired in cabin groups so Regina might actually hear you out and stop being so pissed off. It would get her away from Shane too.

Much to your annoyance, you’re told you have to pair up with Regina, Gretchen, Karen and Shane because apparently it’s unsafe to go alone.

You’d actually rather be eaten by a bear.

Each group is given a tent, you’re given two, the teachers tell you Shane has to stay in one separately but you know that won’t happen. You’re hoping you can just keep that tent for yourself. You’re also given other supplies like cooking utensils, scissors, a mallet, rope etc.

Shane offers to carry both tents in a pitiful attempt to seem strong and manly. Regina plays straight into it and makes a big deal out of grabbing Shane’s hand and feeling his arms.

It makes you roll your eyes. You’re sure you see the corners of Regina’s lips curve in a smirk.

You end up carrying one of the tents anyway, it’s pretty heavy but at least it gives you an excuse to stay at the back of the group, it’s not like you’ll have anything to talk to them about.

Regina walks in-front of you with Karen and Gretchen on one side, and Shane on the other. You’re pretty sure everyone has forgotten your existence, apart from Regina perhaps.

She’s wearing a black crop top and baby pink mini skirt, it makes being behind the group kind of worth it.

After about 2 hours you get to a dead end, there’s a large rock ledge with a few crude dips for you to put your hands and feet to climb up. There are thick shrubs either side to stop anyone going around. This must be what they meant by testing the skills you’d learnt.

Regina goes up first, Shane is standing almost directly underneath her and is grinning to himself. It makes your stomach turn. She climbs up easily, and stands with her arms folded impatiently when she gets to the top.

Shane goes up next, again making a big deal of being so manly, he practically jumps from one step to re other up the ledge. It makes you cringe. He looks more like an ape.

Regina catches your expression and as soon as he’s up she’s all over him again. Is this some sort of punishment? But why would she be trying to make you jealous that way?

You go up last. It’s not too high so you’re not really afraid.

“Don’t fall, loser.” Regina spits and the whole group burst out laughing.

It stings but you ignore it and carry on walking behind them once you reach the top. Whatever she’s trying to do, to get under your skin, to piss you off, you’re not going to give her the satisfaction.

You notice Shane’s hand sneak down from her waist towards her ass and Regina visibly stiffens and moves away slightly.

Soon enough you come to a small opening in the rocks, must be the second challenge. Even from behind you see Regina tense up. It’s just a narrow crawl space that likely pops out quickly on the other side. There’s a wall of rock that seems impossible to climb that looks to go on for a while either side.

Shane goes through first, followed by Gretchen and Karen.

“I’m not fucking doing that.” Regina huffs once it’s just the two of you, raising her hands. “I’ll walk around.”

“It looks like you’ll be walking for a while.” You try and reason, but she’s already started walking.

“I’ll come with you.” You’re not sure why you offer. The suns setting slightly and you don’t like the idea of Regina going alone. Even if it is just a few minutes to walk around the obstacle.

You follow behind in silence as she walks along the rock wall, thinking about all the things you wish you could say. I’m sorry about what Janis said, I don’t agree with her. I like hanging out with you, I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out.

You want to reach out and take her hand like she was doing with Shane, especially since now you know how soft she is.

You want to gently cup her face and kiss her, feel her soft lips and be intoxicated by her warm vanilla scent. You want to ask her on a date, maybe go to the movies, take her for a nice dinner, kiss her on the front porch.

All the things she’s probably done, or will do with Shane.

It feels like you’re walking for ages, it’s quite a lot darker than when you started. Regina keeps a quick pace ahead of you. Her face fixed in a permanent scowl.

You finally turn the corner and see the entrance to the small cave.

Nobody is there, they’ve left. How long did it even take you to walk round anyway?

“What the FUCK.” She screams. It’s so loud you swear you see birds scattering off their branches. “What bitches!”

She growls and flops down, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. You can see a glimmer of hurt and confusion in her eyes.

“It’s getting dark. We have one of the tents , we should set up some kind of camp.” You say, dropping the tent bag on the floor.

“Whatever. I’m not helping though.” She huffs. You don’t bother arguing, you can tell she’s hurt and you don’t want to make things worse.

You unzip the tent bag and start pulling out poles. There are no instructions and all of the poles look identical. You start arranging them in a way that sort of resembles a tent, you bend the long metal pole and try to force it into a fabric sleeve of the tent material, you think it’s secure and let go but it pings back up with such a force that the whole structure jumps. You leap back, the metal projectile misses your face by millimetres.

Regina’s watching you with an amused expression. It makes you blush. At least she’s in a better mood.

After about an hour of wrestling with tent fabric and poles, you’ve made a structure. You’re not sure if you can call it a tent, or if it’ll stay up but it provides some cover.

As night draws close it gets significantly colder so you collect some wood and dry grass for a small fire. Luckily you always carry your lighter so it was simple enough to start. Both you and Regina sit opposite sides of the fire, on the floor, the smoke isn’t as thick as the silence between you.

You dig around in your bag, hoping that maybe you packed some supplies from the bag the teachers gave you. The others must have most of the food and cooking equipment.

You did pack one thing

Marshmallows.

You hold the bag up to Regina who giggles and finds two thin sticks for you to roast them on over the fire. Neither of you speak still as you hold the stick, turning it every now and then.

You remember one other thing you packed secretly in your bag, you rifle through again and pull out a small hip flask of vodka and take a swig. With no mixer, the liquid burns all the way down to your stomach, you offer it to Regina who grimaces but takes the flask.

You sit for a while, toasting Marshmallows and passing the hip flask back and forth before one of you is buzzed enough to speak.

“You and Shane make a good couple.” You’re not sure why you even say it, you don’t think that at all. Regina seems tense around him and you’re pretty sure he’s only after one thing.

“I know.” She responds flatly. It’s unconvincing.

You swallow another dreadful mouthful of vodka. It feels like willingly swallowing paint thinner.

“Why did you screw over Janis?”

Her brows furrow, she reaches for the flask and takes a drink. That was definitely the wrong thing to say but the vodka makes words tumble out before your brain has a chance to screen them.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I guess you think I’m a bad person.” She doesn’t meet your gaze and her tone sounds defeated and a little ashamed.

“ I don’t.” You say quickly. “You must have had a reason.”

“Yeah… I did.” She sighs.

You decide not to push it any further.

“Are you looking forward to camp being over?” You decide to try and divert the conversation.

“Not really, there’s not as much pressure here to perform. I don’t like being a bitch you know, it’s just school, it’s survival of the fittest.” She starts “Out here I feel free. I actually miss middle school, I wish I never went to that party, or kissed Janis. I’m sick of everyone thinking I’m fake, nobody treats me like an actual person.”

She looks up at the night sky, a small tear running down her cheek, catching the moonlight which makes it look like a diamond.

“Being with you has felt free.”

Your heart skips a beat. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol but you get the courage to go and sit next to her. You gently put your arm around her shoulders and she relaxes into you.

You fit together like a puzzle.

You look up and scan the stars with your eyes and find what you’re looking for. You point up to 3 stars in a row.

“There’s Orion’s Belt. Those 3 stars are several times bigger than the sun, and they burn tens of thousands of times brighter.”

Her gaze falls to where you’re pointing.

“It kind of reminds me of you, Karen and Gretchen.” Regina laughs at this. “You shine brighter than anyone else at the school. I know what you mean about just trying to survive, just try not to burn so bright you burn out. You’re perfect enough as you are.”

She sighs, her hand is on your lap now and you struggle to concentrate on the stars.

“And that one sort of looks like a lion” You point up again, Orion’s Belt is the only one you recognise. Luckily this makes her giggle more.

She lifts her head at the same time you turn. She’s so close you can see the stars reflecting in her eyes. In this moment you realise you have two options.

A look of hesitation crosses her face and she starts to pull away.

You make a sudden, probably stupid decision.

As soon as your lips meet you see stars explode behind your eyelids. Her lips are just as soft as you imagined, it takes a second before she’s kissing you back. Her hands reach up and tangle in your hair. It’s gentle and rough all at the same

You pull away. “ I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-“

She cuts you off with another quick, soft kiss.

“I’m tired, I’m going to sleep.” She says, standing and walking over to the tent which is shockingly still standing.

You’re left, sitting on the ground next to the now dwindling fire, kept warm by the redness in your cheeks. You pull out a cigarette and light it on the smouldering fire.

The star lion in the sky beams down at you.

[puckinghischier]

Nervous

Jack Hughes x fem!reader, smitten!Jack

summary: request for jack and reader on their wedding day

notes: this is my first time writing anything for jack and i literally had so much fun with it. i hope you guys like it 😌

[2.6k]

~

Jack had never been this nervous before. Not during games, not on his draft day, not on the night of his rookie debut, and not in any circumstance that he can remember. Ever. He’s not usually the type to dwell on feelings of nerves, trusting his skill and his ability to focus on the task at hand to get the job done.

Today, though, is the most nerve-wracking day of his life. It’s his wedding day, for crying out loud. The day he gets to marry the girl that has been there for every major event of his life. The girl that has never missed a Devils home game. The girl that he’s pretty sure his family loves more than him. The girl that has stuck by him through every hardship and crazy hockey season so far. His girl. The girl he gets to make his wife.

Hell, he wasn’t even this nervous when he asked you to marry him. He recalls the day as if it happened mere hours ago, not a year and a half earlier.

“Jack, where are we going? I thought you said you had an event with the team tonight? You’re going to be late,” you ask, noticing you’re driving further and further away from the city.

You had been doing laundry, trying to get ahead on some chores you had been neglecting, when Jack had come into the living room and told you to put your shoes on, he wanted to take you somewhere. You had asked him where, and if you needed to change, but he simply shook his head no and told you it was a surprise. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Jack. You just assumed he found a new ice cream place he thought you would love, or some quaint little coffee shop he knew you’d like.

You didn’t think anything of it until you found yourself watching the city disappear into the distance almost forty-five minutes later, no destination in sight.

“We’re almost there, darling. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours,” is all he said, taking his eyes off the road for only a moment to flash one of his soft smiles in your direction before continuing to drive.

You sit in the comfortable silence, a slow country ballad playing softly on the radio. Jack’s hand resting on your thigh adding a much-needed warmth to your body, not having grabbed a jacket before he dragged you out of your shared apartment. You watch the road around you become surrounded by trees, admiring the greenery that seems so hard to come by in the city.

Before you realize it, too lost in your own thoughts, Jack is turning off of the paved road you were traveling onto a dirt road, clouds of dust billowing behind the car. You lean forward a bit, trying to take in the scenery to find any sort of clue as to where you were. You’re just about to ask where he’s taking you, yet again, when you see the most beautiful scene appear through the windshield.

At the end of the road stood a large red barn, aged in all the right ways. The red was slightly faded, showcasing the years of sun damage and there were pieces of the shingled roof missing, lost in the wind who knows how long ago. Off to the left of the barn was a large area surrounded by a wooden fence, a few horses grazing on the bright green grass. The sun was just beginning to set, causing one side of the barn to be coated in golden sunlight, the other side blanketed in a shadow. As Jack turned the car to enter the field where the barn sat, you noticed the obscene number of lights strung high into the trees covered by the shadow of the barn, giving the effect that little drops of sunlight were dripping from the limbs.

“Jack…what- where are we?” You ask him, disbelief lacing your tone.

“Just a little place I stumbled across with Luke one day. We were out for a drive, just wanting out of the city for a few hours. Found this place and instantly thought of you. Knew I had to bring you here,” he reveals, parking the car and turning off the engine.

Jack opens his door to get out of the car and quickly moves to open yours, taking your hand while leading the two of you over to the forest of lights. You’re so busy looking up at the sight in the trees that you miss the large, wooden arch set up in the middle of the two biggest trees in the mini forest. There were a few hay-bales on each side of the arch, large bouquets of white daisies placed all over the bales, with some even bunched around the top corners of the square arch.

Once you take in the scene in front of you, you turn your head to look at Jack, finding his eyes already on you.

“Jack, you have about three seconds to tell me what’s going on here,” you calmly tell him, even though your stomach felt like it was doing summersaults.

“I told you, I wanted to show this place to you. Thought you’d like it.” His lips curled into an amused smile once he noticed the glare on your face, knowing you were calling his bluff.

“I wanted to show you this place, because I knew you’d like it. Because I know you. How lucky I am to know you,” he begins, slowly moving you forward until you’re standing directly in front of the arch.

“How lucky I am that I’m the person you chose to trust with your heart. How lucky I am to be able to come home to you after a hard day. How lucky I am to be the recipient of your kindness and your love. How lucky I am to bask in your happiness and your spirit day after day. How lucky I am that you put up with the crazy world I live in, and do it without complaint.”

Your hands were starting to shake at this point, eyes watering.

“What I did to deserve all of this, I’ll never know. But I know I’ll never take it for granted. I’ll never take you for granted. And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend every day of the rest of our lives telling you how thankful I am to whatever celestial being lead me to you,” Jack pauses, dropping to his knee and fishing around in his pocket for the velvet box he’s had hidden in a pair of old skates in the closet for months.

“You are pure sunshine, shining light on every single person you meet. Y/N Y/L/N, please, let me live the rest of my life sunburnt. Marry Me.”

That was the easy part. Asking you to marry him was the quickest and easiest decision Jack had ever made in his life. He hadn’t thought twice when he called Luke on a random Thursday afternoon, telling him he needed to help him run some “errands”, driving to the nearest jeweler as soon as Luke sat in his passengers seat. Didn’t even hesitate when he called your best friend, asking if you had ever talked about what your favorite diamond cut was. Not a nerve in sight when he flew out to meet your parents to ask for their blessing two months before proposing, claiming he was just making a quick trip to visit some friends.

So why? Why was he so nervous today? He’s been looking at himself in the mirror for twenty minutes now, worried that his bow tie is crooked, or that his hair looks too messy. He didn’t know why he was so focused on his appearance. You’ve seen him at his worst. You’ve been there to take care of him after far too many drinks on a night out celebrating a win, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, head buried in the closest toilet. You’ve seen him after a brutal game, face red from exertion and weird imprints all over his body from his gear. You’ve seen him when he broke down after his first loss during his rookie year, putting all the blame on himself, holding him in your arms as he sobbed in your kitchen.

He knew you didn’t care if a few hairs were out of place, or if his tie was a centimeter too far to the left. But he did. He cared, because this was the most important day of his life, and you deserved for him to look his best. You deserved for him to make sure everything was perfect.

Jack is pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door, Luke and Quinn making their way into the room.

“Ready, Rowdy?” Quinn asks, going to stand behind Jack in the mirror.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jack responds, turning to look at his two brothers, forcing a smile that’s supposed hide all of his nervous emotions.

“Are you sure? Why do you look like you’re about to vomit, then?”

“I don’t? Do I? Oh god, what if she thinks there’s something wrong when she sees me? How do I make myself look like I’m not gonna hurl all over her dress. Luke, do I really look like I’m gonna blow chunks?” Jack frantically asks, looking between the two brothers, turning back around to look at himself in the mirror once again.

“Jack, breathe, man. You look fine. Luke was just being Luke. He doesn’t look like he’s going to vomit, right, Luke?” Quinn attempts to calm Jack, glaring at Luke.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean it. Sorry, Jack. You look fine. She’s probably gonna want to jump your bones or some shit. You look great.” Luke blurts, trying to not only escape the wrath of his eldest brother, but to keep Jack from actually vomiting.

“Okay, not what I meant but whatever works, I guess.” Quinn sighs, placing his hands on Jack’s shoulders to turn him back around.

“Listen, everything’s going to be fine. We just went to see Y/N, she’s nervous just like you are. I don’t know why, you’re both so painfully obvious with how much you love each other. There’s nothing for you to worry about. She loves you, man. More than I’ve seen someone love another person. As long as you’re standing there waiting on her at the end of the aisle, you could be covered in dog shit for all she cares. She just wants to see you. She just wants to marry you.”

Jack stares at his older brother, letting the words sink in. His thoughts drift to you, only three doors down, standing in your dress looking into the mirror just like he is, freaking out over things that don’t truly matter to him. He thinks about how you could walk down the aisle, hair un-brushed, pajamas still on, slippers on your feet and he would still be ecstatic to see you.

“You’re right, Q. Of course you’re right. I knew I chose you to be my best man for a reason,” Jack chuckles, feeling his nerves settle a bit.

“I know I’m right. I know you. And I know Y/N. As long as the two of you leave here today with the same last name, everything else could go wrong and you would still be the happiest couple I know,” Quinn removes his hands from Jack’s shoulders.

“But, nothing is going to go wrong, because Mom has been out there running around like a madwoman to make sure everything is in place. The only thing left is to make sure you get to the altar. Which is what we were sent here to do,” Luke chimes in, trying to assure his brother one last time.

“Alright. Yeah. I guess it’s time, huh?”

“It’s time, Rowdy. And it’s been a long time coming.” Quinn pats Jack on the back, the three brothers making their way towards the door that was left open.

Jack smiles at his brother’s statement, knowing you’re just as much a part of his brother’s lives as you are his. You watch every single one of Quinn’s hockey games (as long as he’s not playing at the same time as Jack and Luke) and scream loud enough for the neighbors to complain. You were there at Jack’s side for Luke’s draft day, just as proud, if not more, of the youngest Hughes. You always invite Luke over for a post-game dinner, knowing how tired he is after games and wanting to make sure he gets a meal before he goes home and claims he’s too tired to eat. He knows you hold a special place in his mom’s heart, too. Her claim that you’re the daughter she never had proving to be true through this whole process, knowing she’s been involved in every step of this wedding right along side your mom and yourself.

Before Jack knows it, the ceremony is beginning and he’s being given the signal to make his way to the altar, standing next to his groomsmen as he waits for you to walk through those doors.

As he looks out over the crowd, he finds himself growing nervous once again. Did he put on enough cologne? Did he bring the right kind? What if he wasn’t wearing the one you told him was your favorite? Did he brush his teeth? What if he kisses you for the first time as your husband and his breath tastes like the burger he had for lunch? Oh god, what if you don’t want to kiss him because he has burger breath?

Quinn can sense the nervous energy radiating off of his brother once again. He places his hand on Jack’s back, giving him a few pats to let him know he’s right there next to him. That everything’s going to be okay.

Jack looks over at his brother only briefly before he hears the unmistakable tune of “In Case You Didn’t Know” by Brett Young start playing through the speakers. It’s Jack’s song for you. He plays it all the time when you’re in the car together, not even trying to be subtle. He loves to send it to you when he’s on the road, letting you know he’s thinking about you. There was absolutely no question in your mind as to what song you were going to choose when your mom asked what you wanted to walk down the aisle to.

He snaps his attention to the double doors that open at the other end of the large room. His stomach is in knots, really hoping he doesn’t actually look like he’s about to puke, because he sure feels like it right now.

As he watches the first flash of white make an appearance in the doorway, he knows he’s a goner.

You step into his full view, hand wrapped around your father’s arm, looking around at the various guests for only a split second before your eyes meet his. Jack swears, all time stops in that second. He can barely see through the tears that well in his eyes, completely in awe of you. You match his gaze, forcing yourself to keep the tears from dropping, not wanting to have mascara streaks running down your face before you even get to the altar.

The two of you simply stare at one another for what seems like an eternity. An unspoken declaration of love passed between one another in a simple glance. Your father having to tug on your arm slightly, forcing you to step forward, too lost in Jack for you to remember where you were and what was currently taking place.

As you start to walk down the aisle, every step bringing you towards Jack, towards the rest of your life with him, the feeling of calmness washes over his body. You’re here. You’re his. And you’re everything he has ever wanted and more. It’s in this moment, watching the rest of his life walk towards him, smile on her face, a single tear slipping down her cheek, Jack Hughes has never been less nervous in his life.

[hees-mine]

Say goodbye - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: mature content.

Genre: 18+, ex’s.

Word count: 3k+

-

Ten at night, you found yourself standing outside your ex’s apartment, an apartment you used to frequent on days off or when he planned dates for the two of you at his place, that used to be your second home, but you messed all of that up when you broke up with him seven months ago.

Thinking back now, you realize just how much of a mistake you made, but you were not in a good head space at the time. That being said, it still wasn’t a valid reason for you to dump him. He was the only person who kept all your little pieces together. Even when you were in tough times, he was able to make everything better. Heeseung was the most devoted boyfriend to you. He was your rock. He was literally your everything.

But at some point, you decided to hide your worries from him and keep them to yourself. You knew he’d always be there for you to help you through everything, but you didn’t want to burden him all the time with your issues.

Clearly, you weren’t thinking straight.

As time went on, it only got tougher on you, and hiding things just became the norm. There was a lot going on, and at that time, it was all just too much for you to handle, and you didn’t want to waste his time while you were still figuring things out.

He deserved someone who knew what they wanted and how to communicate what they wanted, not someone who easily changed with the wind and carried too much baggage. So you decided to call it quits with him so that he could find someone who was good for him because you were far from that.

But after these long seven months, you were regretting your decision to leave him. Hell, you didn’t even want to do it in the first place, but you thought it’d be best for you and him.

And that’s all you ever wanted, was the best for him.

He was clearly hurt and shocked when you told him those heartbreaking words, and the look of sadness and confusion on his face made your heart break into pieces.

And it broke into even tinier pieces when he tried everything to get you to change your mind.

“We can spend some time apart, but I’ll always be here for you.”

“I can give you some space.”

“Maybe a little break is all we need.”

He really didn’t want to lose you, but you had other plans, ones you thought would make his life and yours easier. If anything, it only made it worse. It took you too long to realize it months had already passed, and for all you know, he could have someone new by now.

You’d text him weekly, and he’d never respond. You’re surprised he hadn’t blocked you yet, but a tiny little piece of you was grateful that he didn’t cause just seeing that he left your messages on seen was enough for you to hold out an ounce of hope.

You saw him three times since the breakup to pick up all your things. You quietly entered his apartment, never sharing information about how you were feeling, nor did he, but he didn’t have to cause you could clearly see the animosity he held for you.

But who are you kidding? You broke up with him with no explanation other than you needing to sort things out. You’d be upset if someone left you like that, too. You realize how much of a shitty thing that was to do, and you’re so sorry for it.

All that being said you hoped he wouldn’t be too upset when he saw you standing outside his door this late at night.

You inhaled a deep breath and knocked on his door. Not even a minute later, you heard the latch click, and the door creaked open soon later, revealing your ex, the most handsome, sweet man you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

His eyes widened for a moment, surprised to see you there, but the shock quickly died down. The look of annoyance taking over his features was quite evident. “What are you doing here?” He asked, folding his arms over his chest and trying his best not to roll his eyes at that half-assed smile you gave him.

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Posting more soon! Sorry for the inactivity🩵

[carmenized-onions]

Don't Say It. | Closing Out

logline; just say it in every way but the one way that makes it weird.

[!!!] series history; did y'all notice the banner rebrands? tell me you think they look nice and good and cool or i'll. start crying.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. how is it more than 7 hours. my god.

portion; 14k was hoping we'd reenter our single digits era but we ball

possible allergies; two mentally ills battle it out (romantic).

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader almost certain there are gendered bits/pronouns but can't honestly completely remember.

(new!) kofi; I have one now! if you've enjoyed the series, perhaps you wanna tip!

moving into a new place literally in two days!! high stress. so thank you for waitin' as always pwease enjoy and pwease tell me what you think!

You take a good long breath, sitting on the counter in the bathroom. Right. Time is linear and you’re in New York again— Never left. Right. Carmen’s sitting across from you, it’s kind of a shock this floating sink counter hasn’t collapsed under the two of you yet. How long have you been here? Swapping stories took a long fucking time, and there’s still, disgustingly, a lot to unpack. 

“Any shoes left undropped?” You drum your hands against your knees, the question is as much for yourself as it is for him.

Carmen opts to open with a soft ball. “You called me Carmy?” Before you knew me, you called me Carmy?

“I called you a lot of things.”

“Like virgin Michelin Star chef?” He’s failing to hide the upturned corners of his mouth, when he says it. 

You snort and nod, “Like virgin Michelin Star chef, or Carmy, or Carm, or baby boy, baby bear, mister New York— Basically all Mikey’s, I think the only one I coined was Charmin.”

“Charmin?”

“Like the—” He finishes with you, “—Toilet paper bears.” and whether he should be or not, he cannot stop laughing, when you confess this. 

“I thought it was a good bit!” “Cause I’m a piece of shit?” “Bitch—Cause you clean up, and you’re a bear, and Carmen sounds like Charmin, and Charmin sounds like charming and I—”

You pause, cringing, parasocial relationship coming to a head now. When your best friend wants you to get with his hot talented brother living in the Big Apple, it’s hard not to fantasize about, alright? “...I found you very charming.”

God, it’s just far too easy for you to render him completely speechless. It’s really not fucking fair. Carmen looks like a deer in headlights, he looks how he did in your car, a month or so ago, when he bit the bullet and asked you out. Well, promised to ask you out. He swallows, no more glass in his throat, but it does feel a little scratchy, kinda like, like pop rocks?

Pop rocks, yeah. Sweet, salivating. “Do you still?”

You squint, like he’s a moron. He is. “Of course I do.” Cherry pop rocks. Yeah, that sort of spritz feeling, on the tongue, and the way it continues to simmer all the way down. “I don’t want you to stop being you, by the way, Carm.”

“Huh?” What’s that supposed to mean? Of course you want him to change, he sucks.

“I—” You’re quick to clarify, straightening your posture. “I think it’s great to— to do the work, and therapy and reading and self-care— That’s all— That’s very good, and you should do it— For you, not me, but I— One bad night is not how I’ll think of you— You’re— You’re not a bad person, is I guess all I’m trying to fuckin’ say.”

You’re sweet. Sweet but with depth, slowly developed, caramelized, tart. Maybe a fruity molasses.

Carmen swallows, it’s hard to digest the sweet. “I— I’m not a bad person, but I could be better.” Pomegranate molasses. It’s got an acidic kick. Sort of like balsamic.

“I could be better, too.” Could you? Please God, don’t try, he can’t compete. No, shit, hold on, stop pedestaling. “You kinda got my ass, with peoples’ princess.”

Carmen cringes, there’s the acid. “I should not have said—”

“I have a fucking saviour complex, Carm. And it’s just as bad for everyone else as it is for me.”

Bite, yet tender. You continue on. “I do need to work on that. And I should’ve explained more when we first met, it was just— You know… I know you know.” Medium rare, steak medallion— No— rectangle. 

Pomegranate molasses, thick—Nearly sorbet thick. Poured onto the plate, centered, perfect circle. Medium rare wagyu steak— A3, maybe; too much fat would ruin the composition. Rectangular, off center. Dust with cherry pop rocks. Bizarre, but it might actually be something. Bad, but something. Not tired or overdone, that’s for sure. Anything but dusty.

Carmen missed you for a lot of reasons this week, but it’s almost annoying how merely being in your presence for a few hours has given him more inspiration to work with than he has had in the last one-hundred and sixty-eight hours, without you. But who’s counting?

It’s easy to make things, when they’re for you. When they’re about you.

“I should’ve listened, when you were ready, but I got defensive and—I— I do that a lot, clearly, I just—” Carmen tries not to bite at his nails and fingers, because his therapist, Sara, said not to do that. What the fuck does she know? A lot, actually.

“That’s just kinda how— we’d do things. Like that’s how we—” Carmen frowns, memories dawning on him. “…I guess maybe we never really talked.”

You don’t need to ask who we is. His family didn’t particularly set Carmen up for success. And every figure after his family didn’t really lighten the load. There’s not much for you to say or do beyond, “I like talking to you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re allowed to still be mad at me.” Carmen reassures, he’s not sure why he feels the need to do so. “You can— You can tell me to go fuck myself.” 

You shake your head, shrugging. “You can tell me to go fuck myself.”

He shakes his head, immediately, squinting, like you’re a moron; you are. “I would never tell you to go fuck yourself.”

It’s a silent moment of exchanging hard stares and trying to glean something from the other. Once you gather your findings, you finally return to your era of speaking in sync again, with, “I don’t hate you.”

It's a hellish realization, that you thought it was possible, let alone certain, to hate you. He could cry again. “Why would you ever think I hate you?”

You raise your brows, because how could you not think Carmen hates you? “Because you said—”

“I didn’t mean a fucking word.”  He says it differently than he did before. Like it’s a final warning. He immediately recoils at his own voice and its aggression.

“I’m sorry.” Carmen scratches his nose, continuing for the both of you. What more can he say? He’s already said it a million times, so what’s one more? When you try to speak, he doesn’t let you. Because he knows you. He knows you’ll brush it off. “I don’t want you to forgive me, right now. I want to prove I earned it.”

“You don’t have to prove yourself to me.”

“Yeah, Sara said that, too. You’re both wrong.”

“Yeah, I don’t think your therapist can be wrong, in this scenario.”

“Please.” Carmen props his knee up on the counter, his hands, in some way, mimic a prayer. He holds eye contact, he thanks whoever is in charge that you’re holding it again, too. “Let me earn it.”

Carmen will learn that he doesn’t need to earn anything or prove anything to anyone eventually. He’ll need more than six therapy sessions crammed in during his lunch breaks, for that. But right now, he needs to prove this. Needs to earn you. For now, you'll give it to him. For now, you just nod. 

Carmen chews his bottom lip, he doesn’t want to say it but he has to. “When I said—” You failed Mikey. “—What I said— I didn’t mean it how I said it.”

You bring your legs up, criss crossing them. “How’d you mean it?” How else could he possibly mean it?

“I meant it like— Like— Of course he died.”

They’re Berzatto men, they’re doomed. “Nothing you could have done would have stopped him from dying— And I— It hurt cause it felt like— In—In that moment— In my head—” He puts a hand up, pausing to reassure, “Nothing you did. But I felt like I was ‘Round Two’ for you. Charity. I—”

Carmen swallows, looking down, can’t meet your eyes for the moment, but he points at you. “You didn’t fail Mikey— He failed to know he was worth saving.”

A wound closes up, a little bit, somewhere in your head and heart.  “I think in some ways, I was trying to make up for something—”

You’re quick to clarify, too. “But not cause you’re you— Cause I’m me.” Have to do it all. Have to fix it all. Have to save it all. “Like— I think I might have that edge of paranoia for like, like a long time, if not… forever?”

 You frown; what a bleak idea. “Fuck, I may need to go back to therapy, too.”

“You want Sara’s card?” “Sliding scale?” “Sliding scale.” “Is it weird to have the same therapist?” “Probably.” “I’ll look into it.”

You both laugh, the weighted blanket of tension over you both is finally lifting. Carmen’s capable of looking you in the eyes again. “You did literally everything someone could think of.”

You kiss your teeth, you could’ve done a couple more things. “I mean, location—”

“He never would’ve given it to you.” “That’s exactly it, though— I should’ve put my foot down more. I was never as strict as I was supposed to be.” “But if you were strict he wouldn’t let you help him.” “Sponsors are meant to be strict.” “Then he wouldn’t’ve let you be his sponsor.” “Then I shouldn’t have been his sponsor!” “Then he would’ve never joined the program!” “Well—” “It’s not your fucking fault!”

Carmen doesn’t hate you, Carmen doesn’t think you killed his brother. Heavy exhale of too many emotions and a touch of relief. But you can see yourself in his expression. You can see Richie in his expression. The guilt. The haunting. You swallow, “Not yours, either.”

“I could’ve called more.” “He wouldn’t have answered.” “I could’ve realized why.” “And how exactly could you have done that?” “...I dunno, could’ve— Could’ve been the guy, for him.” “Carmen you were the guy, for him.”

Carmen shakes his head. “You were the guy, for Mikey.”

“I— Okay—” You click your tongue, this is hard to explain. You shift on the sink counter, trying to get more comfortable. You won’t. It’s a fucking sink. “I was the guy, but the guy to another guy isn’t much— you—” You snap your fingers, pointing at him. “You’re not the guy, Carmen. Never will be.”

“Ouch.”

“No— You’re something much more important than the guy. You’re— You’re the, the cat.”

He can’t help but smile, confused. He’s so used to bear comparisons. “I’m the cat?”

“You’re—” You keep pointing at him, thinking the metaphor in your head through. “...The guy is— Is like the host of the house party. He keeps the jokes going, the room light, the drinks and food stocked— He talks people through panic attacks while they sit in the bathtub, he loses at beer pong on purpose to make the other team feel better, the guy makes everyone feel like they’re the center of the universe.”

“And the cat?”

“The cat is upstairs, locked in his room, because the cat will get all jittery if he’s around all that yelling and all those people. The cat doesn’t even like those people. And the guy doesn’t want his cat to go through that. But then, when the guy finally gets all jittery and can’t handle all those people himself—” You sigh, honestly stressed by your own metaphor, thinking of all the moments in your life you needed the cat and didn’t call.

“He’ll go upstairs, to his room, and the cat will be there, and he can talk to the cat— Because the cat likes him. And nothing will be solved, but it’ll still feel good and the cat will still think his guy’s perfect and wonderful even when the guy is just— just him— And the cat asks literally nothing of the guy— Unlike everyone else downstairs— and that’s exactly why the guy wants to give the cat everything over anyone else.”

God, you’ve been talking about cats and guys too much. “Not everyone needs a cat, but the guys that do, really do. And you’re… You’re the cat— Mikey’s and mine.”

Carmen can’t say I love you, because that would be an insane response. That would be weird and bad and too soon and stupid. But it’s the only thing he can think of. The only thing he can say besides that, is, “You’re very good to me.”

You’re not exclusively for Carmen, he knows that. You’re not made for him— You’re made for many things. But maybe you’re curated. The Bear wouldn’t exist without your advocacy. And it’s hard to believe, but there might’ve been even more broken shit at The Beef, if you hadn’t been there before Carmen got there. Mikey got to be your friend, before Carmen did. And you got to be Mikey’s friend, when Carmen didn’t. But you both kept him in mind, you told Mikey to text, you drew schematics for his restaurant, you said you’d talk to him. You thought he was charming. You still do. You’re Mikey’s pick, for Carmen. And it’s not like Mikey’s opinion matters that much, but it’s nice to have approval. Though he didn’t fucking ask for it.

“Such a cat response.” “Is that like being a Leo or some shit?” 

You both laugh. Ah, thank fuck, it’s you two, again. There’s a comfortable silence while you think for a second, before asking, “Can I add another thing to your non-negotiables?”

“Always.”

“I don’t want you to be different for me.” You think back to being in his kitchen, the way he tried to hold back, when you were around. “I get you, work you, home you— If you want me to be your fuckin’ mixologist, you’re gonna have to get comfortable working with me.”

“You still want to work for me?”

“I shook on it, didn’t I?”

He laughs through a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.”

“Damn,” You snort, “Are you only with me for my skills?”

“No, I’m with you because you’re— You.” The kitchen needs you, The Bear needs you, Carmen needs you. He’s the cat, he doesn’t need anything more than you. He can work on his codependency issues in therapy, okay? “I— I like having you around.”

You readjust your posture again, it’s hard to get comfortable on a sink. “Well, you better get paid soon, then.”

“‘Bout that.” Boy came prepared. He rifles through the pockets of his black jeans, and pulls out a folded slip of paper. He does a yoga class worthy stretch to hand it to you, from across the sink. A paystub, from The Bear, to Carmen. Officially on fucking payroll.

Yeah, turns out, just a bad week, last week. Being in the red doesn’t last forever. Neither does being in the green. There are ebbs and flows. Next week will probably be shit, and yet the wheel still turns. Carmen also might’ve very well plugged in half of the numbers wrong, according to Sugar, when she eventually got to looking at it. But that’s neither here nor there. So he’s reactive. What’s new? Should’ve believed the you in his head, when she said there will be good and bad weeks. He’s still working on being the only voice in his head. But you’re a good replacement for the other guy, for now.

You stare at it, like an ancient scroll. It’s real. He’s really getting paid— Pretty decent too, he could finally buy some fucking furniture, with this. “Okay.” You look up from the slip to him. He looks like he’s on fucking Shark Tank, anxiously awaiting your approval. “And you’ll act like you?”

“I will act like me.” Even when he doesn’t want you to see it, Carmen will act like Carmen. 

And that’s all you could ask for, really. You’re about to approve the deal, but then you think again, frowning. “The Exec.”

“Ah.” Carmen shuts his eyes, embarrassed by his own brain. “I know.”

“So you thought about it?”

“I didn’t think about— It—” Carmen doubted his own conviction, because he doubts all of himself. But it really was not ever on the table, to give your number…That said— “I thought about loopholes.”

“Catfishing him?” You guess, and he affirms. “Catfishing him.” Hey, great minds think alike. Doesn’t make Carmen feel any less scummy, for considering abusing your likeness for sake of approval. 

“Did you go through with it?” 

It’s Carmen’s turn, to blink, slow to realize that you actually don’t know. “Richie didn’t tell you?” You still live in a world where Carmen isn’t completely batshit. 

You tilt your head, “Did Richie catfish him?”

“No, uhm—” He seems suddenly sheepish now. Can’t look you in the eyes, again. He nods and points to your pockets. “You got your phone?”

“Uh, yeah—” You pull it out, haven’t gotten any sudden creepshow texts, to your knowledge. “Should I be scared?”

Carmen shakes his head. “Nothin’ worse than what you’ve already seen.” He snaps his fingers at your phone, “Look up uh— I think it’s— Chicago Bear on Yankee Chef turf, or some shit.”

You have to take a moment, before typing, to just look at him with genuine pause. “...What?”

“Just do it.” “Did you kill someone?” “I do not have blood on my hands, the Tribune is just dramatic—” “The fucking Tribune?! Shut the fuck up, Carmy.”

Absolutely no way he’s in the Chicago Tribune.

Okay. Upon searching. Absolutely yes way he’s in the Chicago Tribune. Carmen’s trending on Twitter— Or rather, Chicago, The Bear, Bear, Carmy, Michelin Beef, Fuck the Yanks, and a million other keywords are trending— Local trending, but still trending. Chicago Tribune’s made an article archiving a handful of reaction tweets, summarizing whatever the fuck happened. Alright, this is taking too long, maybe you should just ask the man in front of you— “Oh my fucking God, there’s a video.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t watch—” Carmen is interrupted by his own voice coming through your phone. “—And what kind of fucking Chef doesn’t like black pepper? I’m white and overdone, but you’re an entire other goddamn beast—” “...That.”

It’s a screen recording of some patron’s Facebook Live at some New York restaurant David owns or whatever. Empire? That’s what the blurry signs in the video’s background seem to say. What’s his title at this point, anymore? Doesn’t matter.

It’s nice to see his blurry little face around ten to twenty feet from the camera get yelled at by a Carmen that is also many feet away, but his voice seems to be projecting throughout the whole restaurant; enough to be heard clearly through recording, anyways. “And it’d be enough to just be an asshole— But you’re a creep too— Never fuckin’ pray on my— my— bar staff, or I swear on my life—”

“Can’t make direct threats in New York, Cousin! Penal code!” You laugh when you hear Richie’s voice ringing out in the background. Thank God for whoever’s filming, because they pivot their phone to catch Richie, pretty much next to their table, calling out to Carmen. “It’s a fine!”

He looks tired but wired; they must’ve taken a pitstop here, before heading to the hotel. What a fun road trip finale. Richie is such a motherfucker for not telling you all of this first thing while you put on his cufflinks— This is not dirty details, this is front page shit! Literally! God, he buries the lead like it’s his fucking day job.

“Who gives a fuck about a fine? Everyone—” And back to Carmen. “This is David Fields, he’s the head of the head of the head, in their heads— He’s a fantastic chef, I don’t think he eats or sleeps or knows what another person’s hands feel like— He is fuckin’ brilliant at making the same three fuckin’ plates every fuckin’ day— With the most minute differences— And—And—And— He doesn’t even make them! He takes dishes from prozac riddled fucks like me, makes them worse and then puts his name on it! Unoriginal, a narcissist, and fucking bad at it!”

You don’t look up from your phone, eyes glued to the screen. “Holy fuck, Carmen.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” “Is this good marketing?” “Wait for it, I guess.” “...Are you actually on prozac?” “No. I kind of blacked out. Made a point though, right?” “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Sorry, miss. Could I—” …Fak? Guess he did third wheel on the road trip to New York. He grabs the streamer’s phone. There’s a ‘what the—fuckin— excuse me?’ from behind the camera as Fak pivots the recording to himself. 

“Hey World, I’m Neil, that’s my best friend Carmy the Bear, over there.”

“Jesus Christ.” You look up from your phone to Carm, who was at first embarrassed and is now just trying to hold a straight face, hand over his mouth. “I’m aware.” He repeats. 

You squint, thinking.“...Best friend?” “...I guess he is?” “That’s— Okay— I don’t— Alright, we’ll come back to that.” And return to your phone.

Fak continues, taking advantage of the sudden screen time. “He’s a really good Chef, knows his shit, if you ever want to see how he does it, please come eat— Dine— Dine with us at The Bear, we’re in Chicago— on North Orleans and Huron— You can— Can book with us at The Bear dot—”

“Don’t have the site yet.” Richie interrupts the impromptu ad, hovering over Fak’s shoulder, barely whispering. “Still The Beef.”

Neil nods and continues. “The Beef dot squarespace—”

“It’s Wix.” “It’s fucking Wix?” “Your problem isn’t with the lack of a domain?”

“It’s Google Sites, actually.” You correct for no one, really, looking up from your phone to Carmen, again. “I made him change it so it wouldn’t have that ugly freemium bar.” 

Carmen snorts, shaking his head. Of course you did. “D’you design it?”

You let out a loud, “Ha!” before turning back down to the screen. “I think web design might be the one trade I can’t do.” But you’re willing to learn, if he needs.

Ah, the videographer managed to foist her phone back, returning to catch the very end of the Carmen Show. And it’s a wonderful finale, from Carm.

“—Fuck your two elements, fuck your face— Fuck everything about you— I cannot believe we gave you service— Let alone our best— For a guy in hospitality, you have no fucking right treating my host and somme like that. Fuck you—”

“Fuck you—” Finally a response from David, though it’s quickly interrupted, as Carmen finally starts to back away, not wanting a genuine fight if he doesn’t have to do it, but he certainly wants the last word. “No, fuck you—”

“Fuck you.” “—Chef— Stay in your fucking city— Stay in your fucking city— New Yorks great! Stay in it! We don't play in Chicago— Fuck you!”

Carmen comes back to his road trip squad, he notices the woman recording, and walks up to the camera. For a second, you genuinely think he’s going to square up with her— You’re pretty sure he at least thought about it. “Is she recording?”

“Streaming.” Answers Fak. “It’s the new thing.”

 Carmy opts to use his words, possibly because he could maybe get arrested. “Sorry, sorry— I just want to make it clear—”

He gestures to the fucker in the background, bouncers seems to be approaching. Carmen keeps going, face red but calming down, chasing his own breath. “This man worked— and works with wonderful Chefs who I learned a lot under— And— And— I have all the respect for them, and always will— But-But— when it comes to David Fields specifically—”

Your cherry and lamb dish was perfect. David’s palate is just not worth appealing to. Carmen won’t make that mistake again.

“—What he serves is consistently vapid, dusty, and dead on arrival— like his heart— And—And— When you pay him, dine with him, work with him, you are lining the pockets of some fuckin’ creep that pulls rank on honest cooks and servers. So. Decide if you want that. And uhm— Uh— Tip your servers. Don’t ask for their numbers— Like he does. Be normal. Thank you.”

“Carmen Berzatto, folks! Come— Come to The Bear!” Yells out Neil, as security finally seems to be coming for the Chicagoans.

Richie grabs Fak by the back of his coat, knowing when to bounce, shouting, “No legal names! Godssake— This has been Carmichael Burrowski, folks! Don’t call no one—!”

The screen recording ends, not long after that. You’re going to need maybe a… fifty minute nap, to process that. Maybe, somehow, this is good publicity— Maybe in some way, this is putting The Bear on the center stage. But one thing is fact, Carmen completely abandoned the idea of keeping appearances and getting a star through kissing ass. He completely abandoned the idea of being appealing to the man in his head. 

And he did that for you— And Richie— Which, honestly, makes it mean even more. Carmen’s a good boss. Not always. Definitely not always. But when it fucking counts, he is. Carmen's a good man. A good friend. A good not-quite boyfriend. Ugh, boyfriend? What kind of word is ‘boyfriend’? That's fucked.

You put your phone away, quietly nodding and thinking, not looking at Carmen. You shrug, attempting to be nonchalant. “Contract and I’ll be your mixologist.”

“Yeah?” There’s such a brightness, to the way Carmen asks. Like a spritz. “Okay. I’ll— I’ll send you a Docusign.” Aperol spritz. There’s more to it, than that though. 

You’re so zoned out, looking at the sinks instead of Carmen, he starts to get worried. He just got eye contact back, come on. Was the yelling too much in the video? He was loud and mean. He always is. He told you not to watch. 

“Tony?” What kind of bitters suit him? A slice of grapefruit might be nice. Bright but acquired.

“Are you good?”

“Wha—” You shake your head out of it, turning your gaze to Carmen. He jumped off the counter to stand by you. His hand hovers by your head— He considers grazing your hair, and chickens out. But he can’t put it down.  “Sorry, was— I was uh— Just thinking of what we could put on a cocktail menu, that’s all.” Yeah, that’s all.

“Don’t work on it, without me.” It’s with a, dare you say, panicked quickness, that he requests this. “Cocktail menu, coffee menu, we should— Should do R and D, together.”

“Yeah, f’sure.” Fucking Chefs, so particular about their menus. “I think it’d be good to uhm— Build it around the main menu, anyways. Sorta match stuff up.” Thankfully, you like particular.

He really needs to not be standing this close, though. Your brain keeps zoning in and out— It’s really not the time to be feeling any sort of type of way about Carmen cursing out that fucking chef and going to therapy for himself and you and he smells nice and he’s reading books and he worked bar all night with you and he looks so nice in bartender black in lieu of his Chef whites and he is trying so hard and— And you cannot say you love him because that would be weird. That would be weird and bad and too soon and stupid. 

And you can’t forgive him either— Well, not aloud, because Carmen wants to prove that he’s done the work— Wants to prove that he’s going to keep doing the work. He’s rendered you with nearly zero options here, to show your affection. 

“Yeah, that’s— That’d be good. I was thinkin’ we’d put your station by Marcus.” Why is he still talking about work? He’s so stupid. He’s wonderful. This is the worst. This is hell. “Coffee machine’s already there, and you’ll tend to share a lot of elements, anyway— I think.”

You shift your butt on the counter, turning to face him head on, he’s just slightly between your knees as your legs dangle off the counter. “Carmen.”

“Yeah?” “I’m going to kiss you.” “Yeah, okay.”

Light, nervous, sweet, lifting, soft— A delicate kick to it. Pink peppercorn bitters. That’s it.

Aperol— Vibrantly orange liqueur, derived from bitter rhubarb. It’s an acquired taste. Some say it’s citrusy and herbal, others say it tastes like cough syrup. Either way, it’s awakening. Then prosecco. A splash of soda— Lemon-lime would be best. Aperol spritz. It’s an Italian cocktail. It sparkles. Everything in it fizzes, almost competing with each other. It’s meant to be enjoyed before dinner. It’s refreshing. Pink peppercorns and grapefruit would only add to that brightness, that light. It’s not for everyone, but it is everything to some. That’s Carmen. That’s your Carmen. Oh, maybe a syrup on the rim?

You try to be delicate, the way you put the palm of your hand on the back of his head and pull him in, but it’s just not possible. It’s the first time in a fucking month you’ve initiated— It's been one-hundred and sixty-eight hours since you've seen his face, let alone touched it— It’s just not possible to be kind.

Thankfully, based on the way he’s leaning you back on the counter, hands on your waist, it doesn’t seem like Carmen wants kind. There's a sigh of relief, to just kiss you. He’s fine with the touch of hair pulling, on your part— Possibly more than fine. Possibly way more than fine. The faint whining and pulling your hips to his seem to indicate it’s a lot fucking more than fine.

It would be weird and bad and stupid and too soon to say I love you, but you can mouth the words against him and he can’t tell what you’re wording but at least you know. It’s funny that he can do the same to you, and despite knowing the trick, you can’t tell either. 

Carmen pulls back, just a centimeter, or two. He wants to say something. He’s opening his mouth to say something. He's all dopey and half-lidded. Man, he’s pretty. He knows that right? Yeah, he knows that. “You’re so pretty.” You tell him anyway, speaking into his half open mouth. 

Whatever thought he had, it’s dead now.“—Jesus fucking Christ.” He moves his hands to hold your face. It’s nice. It’s nice to get peppered with kisses— Yeah, pink pepper fits perfectly with him. 

Carm’s voice is heavier now. Maybe from the lack of oxygen. He’s fighting to revive his brain. He’s so serious, when he firmly kisses you, forehead against yours, lips still grazing, saying, “I’m not a fucking virgin.”

You laugh way too fucking hard for his ego. Your hands untangle from his hair, but your arms continue to rest on his shoulders. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He’s still amped, too bad you’re you, and you have to ruin the mood to poke at him.

“That a recent development?” “Shut the fuck up—” “I’m just wondering, if he was accurate at the time—” “Why are you doing this to me?” “Did you have a tantric affair in Denmark, the people wanna know!” “I— There was no time, alright? It got away from me—” “Remember when you had your first kind of girlfriend like a month and a week ago?” “It was a recent development, okay?” “Darn. Sorry I was late.”

He pauses the banter to just stare at you, take in your features, take in that you’re here and real and half underneath him. “Not forgiven.” You should’ve shown up sooner. You should’ve injected yourself so completely in Carmen’s life eons ago, and made yourself intrinsically impossible to remove. Absolutely not forgiven, for being late.

“Yeah?” Your eyes upturn, deeply amused. Carmen really is the baby brother. Entitled, bratty, cute. You’re planning to say something coy, something playful like ‘Ohoho, how do I earn your forgiveness?’ But you remember something Carmen said, when he was summarizing his Friday night for you— And for Carmen, what you opt to say is so much worse than hot banter, for his brain. 

“I don’t think your mouth tastes bad.” It’s your turn to take in his face and all its features. “I think it’s nice. It’s like the only way I can try cigarettes without getting a headache.”

“I wanna fly you to Paris.” It’s so quick, from Carmen. Choked quick— Like he fought to hold it down but you’ve just opened the Pandora’s box that is his mouth. He keeps going. Your surprised face firmly smushed in his hands.  

“I’ve wanted to take you to Paris since I asked you to run bar— I’ve— I’ve wanted to take you to Paris since you washed my hair— I—I—” Too much affection to contain in words, he has to kiss you, and then he has to keep going, and then kiss you between the ‘ands’, and then keep going. Like a shot and a chaser and a shot and a chaser and a—

“I want you to be permanent and carved in my tables and I want you to wear my jackets and I want you in my kitchen and in my menu and in every dumb fucking conversation I have at Christmas tellin’ family what the fuck I’m doing— I want you in every sentence.”

It’s not ‘I love you’. Because saying I love you would be weird and bad and stupid and too soon. But it might very well be more than that. Trying to avoid saying it might be forcing you both to say something that means more than that.

It’s hard to generate a response as poignant as that. Especially because your cognitive abilities seem to have gone completely offline. Your brain is telling you to kill the moment so you don’t have to face the feeling, telling you to say something stupid like, ‘Why Paris?’, because if you don't, you might say it. But you can’t. You’re totally speechless. 

Eventually, you manage to choke out, “I would like that.”

“Yeah?” “Yeah.”

“Good.” Ah, a smile from Carmen with teeth. What a rare gift you’ve been bestowed. He tries to celebrate this occasion with another kiss that will inevitably lead to a million more but when he goes for his classic move of sticking his head in the crook of your neck to bite you like a cannibal— You get the chance to look somewhere other than Carmen’s face, and realize you are both still very much so in a fucking bathroom at a fucking wedding in New York. 

“Fak is still outside, I’m pretty sure.”

Carmen groans, there’s no way you’re doing this to him again, come on, neither of you have to go this time, you have all the time in the world, in this bathroom. Time isn’t real here. That’s how bathrooms work. “He’s not.”

“Carmy’s right, I’m not.” Says definitely totally not Fak, behind the door. “You guys kissin’ yet?”

“Christ.” You put a hand on Carm’s chest, pushing him back from you as you push yourself up with your other hand. “Mood dead.”

“No—” He grabs your wrist, holding your hand in place against him. “Mood not dead— Mood present and alive—”

There’s some fumbling behind the door. “Wait— Are they?” Oh, so Richie’s here, too? Good. That’s great. “Ain’t no fuckin’ way— Cousin, be a gentleman—”

Carmen leans over and all but screams into your shoulder. “I am being a fuckin’ gentleman, Richard!”

You kiss your teeth, shaking your head, shrugging. “Yeah, it’s dead.” Them’s the breaks. 

A slow, heavy, arduous exhale, from Carmen, coming up to lean his forehead to yours for a second. Enjoying the liminal space before it’s permanently ripped out of your hands. “I hate my family.”

You smile, pressing your forehead firmer against his, nuzzling noses. “You love your family.”

“I love my family.” He sighs. He gives you one last kiss, soft, sweet, perfect. “Thank you for taking care of them.” 

You shrug. “They’re mine, too.”

God, you’re so quick and mind-bending, he has to go for another kiss, come the fuck on— “Mood’s dead.” You laugh, so cruel, jumping off the counter, maneuvering past Carmen, but you’re sweet— Cruel but sweet— Carefully switching his hold on your wrist to holding your hand, dragging him with you. 

You might be leaving the bathroom together, but Carmen’s pretty sure a part of him is going to stay there, like a ghost of a feeling, for the rest of time.

“Okay— Is everyone waiting to piss?” Is your first question, for the crowd awaiting you and Carmy outside the bathroom. Not strangers, though—Well, mostly not strangers. Richie, Syd, Fak, some guy that looks like Fak. There’s no way they all need to piss, there were three other bathrooms available, it's not like you were hogging. “Is fuckin’ anyone runnin’ bar right now?”

“Marcus is.” Syd answers, hurriedly, as she runs up on you, immediately enveloping you— Practically an attack. It’s not in her nature to hug, but you’ve forced her hand here. Carmen hasn’t even exited the doorway behind you yet before you’re stumbling back into him from the force of her. 

“Squ—”

The words come out of her like a flood, no spacing between the words. “I’m-sorry-I—  We-finished-serving-and-listened-in-on-everything-super-invasive-couldn’t-help-it— You should’ve called me.”

This— These motherfuckers. Oh well, saves you the trip to Denny’s. And frankly, you would hate to re-explain all that. You return the hug with your free hand, the other one still in Carmen’s. You put your chin on her shoulder. “I know.”

There were so many times where you could’ve just gone upstairs. So many times you could’ve just called your old cat. Should’ve just called Syd. She would have been there. Maybe that’s exactly why you didn’t call. 

“I should’ve called you.” Maybe that’s exactly why Syd never called her guy, when she needed you, too. 

“Well,” You pull her back by her shoulders, “We will next time.”

You can’t let the moment stay sincere for long though, shit-eating grin growing on your face, “You’d give up a star for me?” Nuzzling your face into Syd’s cheek as she desperately tries to get away from you now— Oh how the tables turn.

“Get fucked—” “You love me— I’m all you got, Syd? Woww—” “After my dad I said! After my dad!” “A single widdle tear from me isn’t worth a star?” “It was not widdle— Little— Fuck—”

“This is cute princesses but everyone get the fuck out of the way before I clog an artery.” Richie unnecessarily shoves his way between the Faks to get to you. 

You release Syd to face the man, pensive, waiting for a slap, honestly. Richie just looks at you, now that he’s in front of you he’s dumbfounded, awkward. He knows he wants to say something or wants you to say something but neither of you know what that is. What it should be.

Before he can figure it out, you do. “I should’ve told you.” Besides your therapist, Carmen is the only person you told about the phone call— Well, intentionally, that is. 

That doesn’t really seem to be the thing he cares about. He’s not going to slap you, and you don’t need to grovel. “Am I dead, to you?”

Your brows furrow, for a second. “Wha—”

Richie grabs your free hand, pressing it to his neck. “Check my pulse, am I dead, t’you?”

“First of all, wrong placement.” You have to wiggle your hand out of his grip to take his pulse correctly. “It’s under the chin, align it with your eye—”

“Do I have one?” “Yes, Richie, you have a pulse.” “So I’m not dead?” “You’re not dead—” “Then call me.”

When your breath hitches, he continues. “I’m not a ghost. I’m here. When shit happens, you call me.”

“I know.” Is the only thing you can say without your voice cracking. “I will call next time.”

“You will fucking call, next time.” Richie grabs your face, smushed in his hands. “And you’ll answer my calls, next time.” He forces you to nod— Not that you wouldn’t, but wants to make sure. “Am I heard?”

“You're heard.”

Richie can see over your head, so he barks at Carmen, who’s very innocently behind you, still holding your hand. “Get your weird little hands off my Chip, you perv—”

“I don’t have weird little hands—” 

Syd pipes in, squinting. “Why is that the thing you refute—”

“Why does God let these moments happen to me?” You grumble, words muffled with your face still compacted by Richie’s hands. 

“I think it’s beautiful, actually.” Says some guy that looks like Fak. You just stare at him with your partially forced closed eyes. “Just the vibes, so— like— tender.”

“Who the fuck is this guy?” You deadpan, pointing at Other Fak. “Has this guy just learned shit I haven’t even told my own father?”

“We definitely just got here.” Lies Fak, next to Other Fak. He continues, “We didn’t hear anything about the really sad way you both actually did attend the funeral but didn’t—”

Other Fak astutely interrupts to add, sniffing. “But if we did it’d be like, like really meaningful that you both like, did that.” Is he tearing up? Richie needs to check your pulse, are you dying?

“Everyone please back the fuck up?” Carmen sighs, behind you, then beside you, letting go of your hand to put it on your shoulder. “Like maybe give two solitary fuckin’ seconds?”

There’s a stuttering of apologies as everyone realizes yeah, maybe a bit much to immediately jump you. Richie drops your face, everyone takes a step back.

You keep staring at Other Fak. Squinting, you point to him. “Ted?” Guy who they called instead of you?

He nods, “Hi—”

“No.” You wave your hand in front of his face, cutting him off. You turn to Carmen, just shaking your head plainly. “No.”

“Heard.”

“Y’know how going to a different barber is like cheating—?”

“No, like I got it—”

“This is like times a thousand—”

“I am hearing the note—”

“Fak can— Neil can fix shit, I took his spot, it’s fair— Outsourcing someone though—?”

“Won’t do it again.”

“No, you won’t.”

“It was— Should I have called you back in?”

“No, you should have had a broken light until we talked it out or let it be broken for the rest of your life.” There is not much you could ever find yourself getting genuinely jealous about— This, however, is a knife to the heart. Another handyman is a child out of wedlock, practically.

“Heard.”

“I spent way too long stalking you.” Interrupts Syd, she’s looking at her phone, a jumble of aggravated misspelled texts coming from the work group chat. “Fuck, I’ve gotta help Tina with clean up— We’ll—” She sticks a hand out, you reach out and hold it, for a moment. “You’re still— We’re still sharing, right?”

You tilt your head, confused, oh— “I’m still gonna sleep in our room, Syd. You weird pervert.”

Syd lets go of your hand, shaking her own hands around her head, talking just as fast as she speed walks away to the kitchen. “I am not a weird pervert, I’m sexually normal, don’t be weird, goodbye! Love you, fuck you, see you later!”

Richie claps his hands, “We’re closing out, so I’ve gotta go pick up vases or some shit— Faks, c’mon—”

“Y’know we’re just regular guests, right?” Says Ted. They let Fak come on the road trip despite not doing a job? Medals of Valor need to be doled out.

“Pbbt, come the fuck on, here boy.” Richie starts to walk off, and the whistling is condescending, but they listen anyway. Rich looks over his shoulder, snapping his fingers at Carmen. “Probationary forgiveness.”

Carmen nods, “Thank you, Chef.”

“Dee-Dee’s here, by the way.”

Carmen’s relaxed posture immediately pulls into a taught physique, he’s considering chasing Richie to get more details. “Isn’t Sug here, too?”

“Yessir!”

“Have they—” “They got grouped at the same table. Unc and Stevie have been keepin’ the peace.” “How’s that going?”

“Your guess is as good as mine!” And with that Richie fades into the crowd of straggling guests and clean up crews. 

You don’t know much about Donna, which was a very intentional choice on Mikey’s part. And that kinda tells you all you need to know. You turn to Carmen, pensive. “You wanna go find out?”

He itches at his collar, thinking. “I think if I say I don’t, I’m a bad son.”

“You didn’t ask to be her son.”

“Oh, fuck, okay.” He stumbles for a second, you immediately cover your mouth. 

“Sorry! I just—” Inside thought got outside. “I just meant— That was a lot. It’s just like, I dunno, you can’t be bad at something you never opted in for, y’know?”

“No, yeah, that— That’s kind of… a good thought.” He nods, looking at the ground, swallowing the words. “I— I should be a good brother—and—and Uncle, at least. Say hi to Nat.”

You don’t start walking until he starts walking, intent to follow his lead. You’ll stroll casually, until they crop up, making no deliberate effort to find them. You’re both silently hoping you don't. Carmen brings his head back up to you. “You ever meet Mom—? Donna?”

You shake your head, “No, that was kinda one of our few red lines. For Mikey and me. He’d like—” You gesture with your hands as you explain. “He’d talk about her, and I saw like… photos of them from babyhood, but I never met her or heard details— Never like, came over to the house. It was just kinda like a silent agreement. Hard for him and hard for me with the whole— Uh—”

“Drinking thing.”

You nod. “It’s uh— I’m not easily triggered anymore, though, so I think I’m fine.”

Carmen sniffs, scratching his nose. “Well, if you end up not being fine, we can not— Like not talk to her.”

He’s sweet, he’s smart, he’s the cat. You nod. “You don’t have to talk to her either, y’know. Could just text Nat—” “She’s right there.”

You whip your head up in tandem with him saying, “Don’t look fas— Fuck.”

You put the back of your hand on Carm’s chest, you both stop walking. “That’s Dee-Dee?”

“Yeah, with the—the leopard print belt and the floral dress.” Carmen’s been growing meeker with each step. You’d think his biggest fear is clashing patterns. This is not the same bear in the Chicago Tribune. “Why, you— You do know her?”

“She looks fuckin’ familiar…” You kiss your teeth, trying to roll back in your memory— Come on, you don’t forget shit, where is she from? You’ve seen photos but those were blurry and she was so much younger. You remember this version of Donna, you remember her from somewhere.

“Fuckin’ — Something with Pete— I saw her with Pete— Nat’s husband—” You point to him, across from Donna, at the table. “Him, yeah.”

“Just them?” Carmen gently pulls your arm down, you’ve gotta remember your manners.

“Yeah, I was— Oh, I was—” You squint. “Did Donna come to your opening?”

“No, she was invited, but she didn’t show.”

“Okay— So, she did, actually.” “Huh—?”

“She was— She was outside, when you were in the walk-in.” You nod to yourself, still thinking through the memory. “Yeah, she was outside— I thought Pete was like her son— It looked like they were fighting or crying so I just kinda— Kinda let it be. You were locked in a fucking freezer so I chose my battles.”

“Oh.” Carmen nods, trying to make it seem normal in his head. It’s not. And he can’t seem to force it. “He definitely didn’t tell Nat.” Because Nat would’ve told him.

You hum, rocking on your heels. “Yeah there's no chance we're going to go say hi now, is there?”

“Yeah, that might be best.”

You fold your lips in a line, still staring at Donna, she looks normal, which makes it feel even less normal. Way too much to unpack, if you go over there. Instead, you’ll stand here in the middle of the banquet hall, and unpack the carry-on luggage, so to speak. “Christmas is in a week.”

It’s a freight train of realization, Carmen drags his hand down his face. “Fuck me.”

“I know.”

“I have to go, don’t I?”

You frown, turning your head to him, not wanting to say what you’re going to say. “Do you think she’ll plan anything?” First Christmas without Mikey. Will she have the willpower to plan something, like she usually does?

“Oh, fuck me.”

“I know.”

Carmen holds his hand over his mouth, words somewhat muffled. “I’ll ask Nat, see what she’s doing. Baby’s first Christmas, or whatever. That’s a thing, right?”

“Baby’s do traditionally experience time, yeah.” “You n’ that smart mou—”

Despite staring at their table, the two of you did not notice Natalie approaching you, baby Michaela swaddled in her arms. “Oh my God, I haven’t seen normal human beings that aren’t screaming or shitting constantly in so long— Please— Say something normal and fun.”

You pucker your lips, trying to come up with something. “Ah— Fuck, I can’t think of anything— Oh fuck, sorry I said fuck— God— I’m just gonna stop talking.”

Nat lifts her hand up for a moment to wave you off before re-supporting her baby. “No! No, don’t! Say fuck so much. Say it all the time. She can’t understand, she doesn’t care. I wish I was her.”

“Will do.” You just nod, holding a hand up to Michaela, waving. She grabs one of your fingers, holding on tight. You can’t help but coo. “Hey, baby! Have you been fuckin’ with your mom’s sleep schedule? Awe, yes you have! Yes you have!”

Nat laughs and hums, “Richie told me you used to babysit Eva.” 

“He’s exaggerating.” You leave your hand with Michaela, but look up to Nat. “There were just some weekends he was working and daycare wasn’t running so I’d take her around the city for a couple hours— More like playdates than actual babysitting.”

“That just sounds like you’re a fun babysitter.” Carmen rebukes, Nat nods. 

“I’m good when you only need a second.” You sigh, half taking the compliment. You glance over Nat’s fatigued face. “You need a second?”

“Yes, fuck, could you?” In the same breath, she’s handing you baby Michaela. “She has in fact been fucking with mommy’s sleep schedule— And no one tells you— ‘mommy strength’ or whatever, needs to be developed— My lats— I think they’re lats? Are insane now. Just from holding her!”

You bounce the baby in your arms, sidling her on your hip. She’s a grabber, that’s for sure. Grabbing your hair, your top, Mikey’s chip— No longer tucked under your clothes. You let her. Well— Not the hair— She could cut off her circulation— Relax, EMS. You’re off duty. “How’s it going with—”

Nat knows what you’re asking before you finish the question. “Better than normal, which makes it feel worse. Does that make sense?”

You nod, “Completely and utterly.”

Carmen’s staring at Pete. He’s not typically a snitch but this is his sister, “Did Pete tell you—?”

“That mom was there on our fucking opening and he told her we were having a baby? Yes, about five minutes before she sat down.” Nat says it with a perfectly practiced smile and a simmering anger.

Your hands slip just slightly, you readjust your grip on Mickey. You and Carmen speak together, “He what?” 

Nat doesn't mean to ignore your both but she does, “How'd you find out?”

“I just told him.” You pipe up, guilt covers your face. “I saw them when I came that night. Sorry, I didn't realize that was your mom— Or husband, for that matter.”

Sug shakes her head, waving off the apology. “Not your fault, his.”

“Yeah.” Carmen nods, “Back to that, by the way?”

“Yeah, he realized it was kind of a hard lie to uphold— Because mom sucks at acting surprised.” She sighs, “She’s taking it well publicly but I’m expecting a full blown meltdown in the bathroom of which I can’t escape, so. Beautiful wedding.”

“Yeah, those are kind of unavoidable.” You just had one yourself. “Fingers crossed you make it out alive?”

“Oh, I’m making it the fuck out, it’s her you should pray for.”

You have to respect the power in that. “Damn.”

“I didn’t ask to be her daughter! If she hands it to me I’m handing it fucking back—” Nat’s brain is always running like a faucet, she cuts off her own thoughts with a new one. “Christmas is in a week.”

“We know.”

“Fuck me.” She sighs so hard it blows strands of hair out of her face. “What the fuck are we gonna do, Carmy?”

“Was gonna ask you.” Carm’s distracting himself with Michaela, she reaches for his hand, she doesn’t grab a finger, she traces his tattoos. God, babies are cute sometimes. “Can we figure it out later?”

“Yeah, like everything else we do, I guess.” Sug groans. But she just as equally doesn’t want to think about it as him. And honestly, she’s just happy to see him acting like a fucking uncle for once.  “Tony, will I see you at work on Monday? You’re onboarding, right?”

You don’t notice the way Carmen’s face stones up, like a secret has been revealed. He’s been preparing for you to say yes. He’s got that Docusign in his inbox, ready to send. Had Nat budget you in. But you don’t seem to be upset about it— Or maybe you just didn’t catch that Carmen selfishly was hoping you’d come right back to him. Maybe it’s just that you don’t think it’s selfish.

“Oh— Uh, yeah, I guess you will.” Michaela starts to smack you for not giving her attention for more than seven seconds. You turn your head to her, bouncing her again, “Pbbt—Pbbbt— Mat leave over?”

“Gonna need to be.” Nat laughs when she says it, like you’re both on some sort of inside joke. Yeah, The Bear’s kind of a nightmare, of course Nat’s always needed. You laugh back, though there wasn’t really a joke anywhere in there.

“Make sure you get your rest.” Sug scoops Michaela out of your arms, rejuvenated from her second of peace. “Your boss is kind of an ass.”

Unfair drive-by, Carmen waves a hand like a white flag, “Alright—”

���I know, I like him anyways.” “Gross.” “I know, it sucks.”

“Okay, okay,” It’s way too obvious how happy Nat is that her brother has someone. “Both of you get the fuck out of here before she sees you, I told her you’d be too busy in the kitchen to say hi.”

She knows her brother, and Carmen’s grateful for it, but, “Are you sure? I can—” 

“I love you, Bear.” Nat gives him a kiss on the cheek, and you a quick hug. “But fucking run, seriously.”

Carmen nods, “Heard. Love you, Bear.”

You quickly dash off together, blending into crowds to go unnoticed. Mumbling plans out as you sprint. “I’ve gotta help Marcus close out the bar.”

“I’ve gotta pack up our equipment.” “You’re on the fifth floor too, right?” “Yeah, you’re rooming with Syd?” “Yeah, you and Richie?”

“I got my own room.” “Okay, rich boy.” “I— It’s a fuckin’ Holiday Inn, it’s not that bad—” “Oooh, Charmin gets his first paycheck suddenly he’s all that—” “You wanna come up to my room or not?”

“Oh?” You practically skirt on your heels when you suddenly stop walking, “He’s bold now—”

“I— That’s not— Like we—” He can’t dig himself out of this one, and his darting eyeline is giving him away. “You told Syd you’d still sleep in your room— I just meant like— Like we could— hang out.”

“We could hang out?” “Stop—” “I’d love to hang out, dude.” “We can watch a movie or somethin’—”

You gasp, thought occurring to you. “Yeah, let’s watch a movie. I wanna watch a movie.”

“I don’t like the look that just happened in your eyes.” 

“Yes, you do.” Your turn to smush Carmen’s face in your hands, kissing him with a comical, all too wet, and in no way seductive muah—

Which somehow just makes it all the more entrancing, for him.  “Yes, I do.”

You smile, letting him go, splitting off from Carmy in favour of your bar. “I’ll meet you in the lobby, go be a good boss.”

“Yes, Chef.”

“How are they not seeing him fuck up the soup— That— A whole pot—” “You’re literally saying exactly what Remy is saying right now—” “I— Good. I’m still mad about the five star thing.”

Carmen likes Ratatouille. Likes it enough to nitpick. He relates to the weird rat with a complex family dynamic and having a brother that means well but fucks with him so much. He relates to the no credit, the starving, the death and desire of feeding the ego, Carmen relates to feeling like a freak in his own kitchen. 

It is weird to feel seen by a rat. 

But it’s nice to have you in his room, in his bed, watching some dinky little red-head try to survive in a French kitchen. It’s nice to occasionally watch you instead, out of the corner of his eye. He thought of roughly… fourteen more recipes since leaving the bathroom with you? Who would’ve thought that watching someone use a makeup cleansing balm would be inspiring?

What? It melted beautifully. Or maybe you’re just beautiful? Whatever. You emulsified it in your hands. Emulsion? Coconut emulsion would be interesting; very similar creme texture. On top of a souffle? Delicate. But it still needs zip. The glitter from your eyeshadow makes him think of zesting. Lemon zest. Needs more scent, though. Oh, maybe Kaffir limes. That’s a weird dish. That’s never gonna work. He has to get better at subtracting around you. 

He’s doing pretty good at not saying I love you, though, so, that’s something. 

“The houndstooth pants are cute.” You hum, as Linguini finally kisses Collette— Though by a rat’s volition. A win is a win. You lean into Carmen’s side, watching the movie pirated on his laptop, because hotel tv pay-per-view was so overpriced for no reason. “Oh, fuck, what’s my uniform gonna be?”

“Chef whites, no?” His arm is around your shoulder, it’s nice. “I can get you a jacket—”

“Well, your servers wear black— And I’m gonna be like, like both right?” You turn your head to him. Bad idea. He’s still very pretty, if not prettier in pajamas. “Like, making drinks in the back and then acting as somme out front. So all black?”

“Hm.” Carmen tries not to frown. Tries not to see you wearing black as you being on the other team. “I guess.”

“Richie’s not getting me in a fuckin’ button up, though.” You don’t notice his expression’s minute faltering, crossing your arms, thinking. “Sleeveless black turtleneck? Maybe black palazzo pants, could do what fuckin— Linguini’s doin—”

You point at the screen. “The bright red converse? Could do all black and then bright blue converse? Would that be cute or is that deeply unprofessional?”

Carmen tilts his head back and forth, trying to let you down easy, “I wouldn’t call it deeply unpr—”

“Heard. Okay, maybe like— Like a red bottom heel—” You kick your foot up in the air, for no real reason. A shoe isn’t suddenly going to appear on it for display. “Like not actual ones, duh— Like a black boot and I paint the sole blue—” 

“What’s with you and blue?” He's deeply amused, or maybe that's just Carmen's constant state, right now, twirling his fingers through your hair without a care in the world.

“It’s like, Bear colours. You do blue. Aprons, baskets— I guess I’m thinking of The Beef, but like, your lighting is kinda blue.” You shrug. “I wanna match.”

He nods, eyes on the movie, thinking far too much— Well, for the average person. For Carmy it’s a perfectly normal amount of thinking. “All black, blue sole, blue earrings, maybe? White apron for when you’re in the back?” 

Please say yes to the white apron. Please say yes to his team. He'll get your initials monogrammed and everything.

“Yeah, that’s a cute look. As long as it’s easy to take off.” You hum. “Oh, y’know, Richie wanted to—” 

Speak of the Devil, and he shall call you for the fifth fucking time. “Fuckin— Pause it, hold on—”

Carmen pauses the wonderful rat chef in tandem with you answering the phone with, “I’m not fuckin’ comin’ to pool, Cousin!”

In one ear, out the other. “Fuck you! When are you getting here?” 

“I am not getting out of bed to play pool— A game I have not played— With a bunch of fuckin—”

“If you’re not down here in five minutes, Chip, on God—” “I’m gonna fuckin’ hang up again you motherfucker—” “And what? You’ll just answer again, won’t you?”

Richie’s tone gives him away. He’s giggling, bubbly, absolutely tanked on dirty shirleys. But there’s a very genuine joy to it. You’ve answered his stupid meaningless calls every time, the last four times, despite knowing they are in fact, stupid and meaningless. And that is rife with meaning. 

You sigh, but you’re smiling. “Yeah. I’ll answer.”

“Good.” You can hear his smile mirrored through the phone. “Sell your Greyhound ticket to Fak.”

“Bitch, fuck no—” “We can go aroun’ the city tommorow! We’re closed! C’mon have some fuckin’ fun before you start working in hell!” “We’re gonna be stupid New York tourists?” “Eva wanted me to get her face on some m and m’s—” “You want me to come with you to the fucking Time Square M and M store?”

That’s when Carmen shoots up, shoulder against yours, panickedly muttering into the phone, “We cannot go to Time Square a week out from Christmas.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. When you realize why there’s a pause, you shut your eyes tight, knowing exactly what you’re gonna get. Carmen realizes after watching your face scrunch up, he puts his face in his hands, “Shit—”

“You’re fucking Carmen!”

“No—” “You said you’re in bed! His bed?!” “We’re watching Ratatouille—” “Without me? You’re coming to the fucking M and M store— Also that big ass toy store—” “This is not a betrayal—” “Matter of fact, we’re gonna go see that big fuckin’ tree, too—” “You just want me to drive us home because you’re gonna be too hungover.”

“No, I want you to drive us home because I love you.” Richie’s slurring when he says it, like it’s some sort of gotcha. “So fuck you, actually.”

Carmen bites back laughter next to you, you just shake your head, tutting. “I love you, too, Cousin.”

“If you loved me you’d come play pool.” “I don’t fuckin’ know how to play pool!” “We’ll fuckin’ learn you somethin’ then!” “Fuck off! I’m already coming to fucking Time Square with you, don’t be whiny.” 

“You’ll come?”

You massage your brow bone, “Syd’s not gonna wanna sit next to Fak on the bus, you got room for four?”

“Yeah, but someone’s gonna have to sit on the console.” “I nominate Carmen.” “I second the nom.”

Carmen, now with two votes to sit on the console up front, presses his face into your shoulder. “What the fuck—” You peer down at him and whisper, “We’ll do shifts, don’t worry.”

“Put me on speaker phone.” “You’re talking so loud that Carmen can very clearly hear you.”

“Put me! On speaker phone!”

You put Richie on speaker phone. Carmen clears his throat, gruff, “Yo, Rich, can we finish the fuckin’ movie?”

“Patience is a virtue, or some shit. D’you see the resos?”

You mouth to Carmen, ‘Reservations?’ Carmen nods. “Yeah, I saw.”

“Gonna be fucked.” You frown when you hear that, but don’t want to interrupt. You silently word, ‘What happened?’ Carmen puts a finger over his mouth, he’ll explain in a second. 

“Gonna be fucked, yeah.” Carmen sniffs, swiping at his nose. “Good kind, though.”

“Yeah. Good kind.” There’s a sigh from Richie on the other end, that heavy sigh. Practically sobering up with just one sentence. “Christmas is in a week.”

“I know.” Carmen kisses his teeth. This is going to be the worst, for all of you. The missing link is going to be all too apparent.  “Good time to be busy.” 

“Good time to be busy.” Richie echoes. “Only way out is through.”

“Heard.” Carmen nods, what else is there to say? “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Aright. Don’t fuck in a fuckin’ Holiday Inn Chip’s worth mo—” 

That’s when you interrupt, “Alright, what a wonderful phone call this has been goodbye, fuck you, love you, don’t call again, be safe!” You hang up before Richie can reply, head flopping over.

There’s a long silence before Carmen speaks again. “...I’m not tryna do that by the way—”

“No, I know, I’m worth more than a Holiday Inn.”

Snorts of laughter fill the stale air of this shitty little Holiday Inn one bed. Carmen pulls you back into him, arm on your waist. Before you can start the movie again, though, you have to ask. “Reservations fucked?”

He hums, tucking your hair back so he can see the side of your face better. “We started taking reservations last week— Just to test it out. N’ it was goin’ smooth but ‘tuh…” He squints. “Trending today with the whole uh— Chef thing. We’re kinda booked full ‘til the end of the year. And January.”

“Oh shit.” Word on the street is true. Any advertising is good advertising. Even when promoting the wrong fucking website. 

“Yeah, good kinda fucked, but like. Fucked.” Carmy nods, and after a second, grabs your hand. “But Christmas— Christmas Eve ‘n Christmas is off— And New Years— So, so you won’t be overwhelmed, hopefully.”

Your brain is already shooting miles ahead, you’re mentally back in Chicago, already. “We really gotta get on that cocktail menu.” There’s so much to do. New job, new menu, Christmas—

“And coffee.” Carmen sounds calm when he says it, which is deeply unlike him.

“And coffee.” You echo, eyes distant. You shoot back up. “Fuck, road trip is gonna be such a time sink. Okay— Well, okay— We’ll just— I’ll make a list tonight—”

 You’ve gotta figure out your hours. You don’t want to lose Chicago’s Kindest completely— Can’t be available 24/7 anymore, though. Mattina Tony’s gonna hate that. But he’ll be happy for you. Gotta tell Eden’s Club you’re not going to pick up shifts anymore. They’ll say they’re happy about it, but curse you behind your back. That’s fine. 

“List for what?”

“Christmas shopping.” Your eyes flick to him, still thinking. “I win Christmas every year.”

You’re getting Richie new cufflinks— But what of? Can’t just do initials, that’s lame. Fuck, what do you get Carmen? Can’t just do something cooking related— That’s lamer. But it’s also like— His only hobby.

“Don’t think that’s how Christmas works.”

“It fully is. And being in Time Square is gonna widen the fuck out of my search radius. Fuck what do I do for Syd? Fancy knife? They sell fancy knives here?”

Carmen shrugs, “I know a guy in the area.”

“Fantastic. I’ll get a list, you’ll help me out with stores. We’ll get coloured pencils at FAO, we’ll draft up a rough menu on the way home—” “Hey—” “It’s twelve hours of driving, so I think we can get a good chunk done. And then test out and finish on Monday—” “Baby—” “I was thinking we could do a section of house cocktails and coffees named after Chefs—” “I said don’t work on it—” “So like, each one would be themed after what I think of when I think of you—” 

Carmen grabs your face with both hands. “Tony.”

“Carmy.”

“Cannot believe I’m saying this to another person, but loosen your grip.” He strokes your cheekbones with his thumb. It’s nice. “You don’t have to do it all.”

It's a long silence of just staring back at him, so much so Carmy’s worried he has failed at this whole self-help thing. But then, you say, “Sara’s a good fucking therapist.”

“She’s got a pretty flexible schedule, too.”

Your face is still in his hands, you’re basically unblinking. “I think you’re a pink pepper aperol spritz with a slice of grapefruit. Maybe like a cherry syrup rim? Or is that too much? That might be too much.”

Carmen sighs in a way that sounds like a laugh. “How many drinks have you made in your head?”

“Just that one. But I think Richie would be something with whiskey and peaches— And somethin’ about Syd makes me think about figs, I don’t know why, which would go good with—”

Carm pinches your cheek, frowning, though there’s an admiration to it. “I said don’t work on it.” 

You push his hands away, “I haven’t written anything down! I can’t stop my brain from thinking! How many fuckin’ plates do you have in your head?”

He thinks, tilting his head back and forth. “A couple.” It’s a lot more than a couple. “They’re all bad, though.” 

“Bad, how?” 

“Bad, like weird.” Carmen gestures to the dimming screen of his laptop. You shake the touchpad awake. Rat chef is inspiring, and a good reminder of what he's meant to do, as are you. “It’s uh, it’s a good movie. It’s good to make new shit. But like, I need to be controlled.”

You tilt your head, “I don’t think so.”

“No?” Despite the fact that you’re disagreeing with him, there’s a happy hum, in Carmen’s voice.

“No. I think we should make really bad weird shit. At least in like, R and D.” You lean back down, against him. “Gotta try it before you brush off the idea. That’s the fun thing about art, y’know? Might work, might not.”

“I think that’s life.”

“Life is art, art is life, food is both.” 

“Woah.” “That was kind of a bar, wasn’t it!?” “Kinda tough.” “What’s your bad weird idea?”

“Steak with pop rocks.”

“Oh my god.” Your eyes go wide, but with a smile. Shocked but delighted. It's absolutely going in Carmen's top five favourite expressions of yours. You lean into him further, back of your hand slapping his chest. 

“I know, but I was thinking the sugar would be good—”

“Like a sort of maple or sugar curing thing?” God, you just get it. And you give a shit about getting it.

“Exactly, n’ then it makes you like— Like salivate.” “I don’t think it’s that crazy an idea.”

He’s so excited to have someone encourage his ideas, for once. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod assuredly. “We should do it. Try it, at least.”

“Okay. Cool.” Carmen tries and fails to not light up at the prospect of ‘we’. “You’ve still got a hard out at twelve?”

“Syd said she will be knocking violently if I’m not back at midnight on the dot, yeah.” You unpause the movie. “And she’s gonna be pissed when I tell her I’ve volunteered us for a tourist spree, so I gotta be on her good side.”

Carmen shrugs, turning his attention back to the movie, arm around your shoulder. “It’ll be fun, if you’re there.”

It gives you both away.

Every sentence gives you both away. The way you speak, the way you act, the way you pose. It gives you both away. The way he moves your hair out of your face so you can see the movie clearly. The way you lift your head so he can tuck his arm under the pillow, so it doesn’t go numb under you. All without asking. The way you see each other, the way you are constantly doting and thinking of the next thing you can make the other—All without checking in. The Berf shirt you wear for pajamas, your refilled toiletries in his hotel shower. The domesticity comes all too easy to both of you. It gives you both away.

“Remy kinda sounds like Carmy, y’know—” “Don’t.” “My petit chef!”

You say I love you in every way but the way that makes it weird and bad and stupid and too soon. 

“Good God.” Is the first thing Sydney says, when you return to your shared hotel room. Face and voice filled with disgust, that is really only half sarcastic. “You’re beyond saving.”

You push past her, bumping shoulders as you do, smiling all the while. It’s nice that she can see you again. Even if she’s seeing that you’re down bad. “I didn’t even say anything—”

“Yeah, no, it’s that face on your face— God, it’s over—” “Baby, just say you’re happy for me.”

“I—” Syd blinks, rapid, hands in the air. “I’m happy for you— Tentatively.” Pending Carmen. Probationary forgiveness. 

“Thank you. I’ll take it.” You squat down to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge, when you do, you’re able to give Syd a once over.

She’s adorned in an old jazz club shirt from your highschool, boxers, and a long bonnet so old you recognize it. You recognize all of it. It’s nearly enough to make you cry. 

Funny, she’s thinking the same thing. Together, you speak. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“Jinx!”

“Double jinx!”

“Triple Jinx!” It’s on the third one that you decide to let her win and not say it a fourth time. 

It’s on the fourth one that Syd decides she doesn’t want to win. “Quadr— Man, this sucks.”

You know exactly what she means. You fall out of your squat, sitting on your butt with a frown. “It literally would’ve just taken one phone call.” You could’ve been doing this for years.

She sits down next to you, back against the front of the bed. “There were a lot of moments, where I thought to call you, honestly.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like uhm—” Syd’s face scrunches up her face, she’s already opened her mouth so she has to tell you, but she’s realizing she probably shouldn’t tell you. “There was this fucked day at The Beef, where we set up online orders, and I forgot to tick off pre-order—”

You unscrew the bottle cap, squinting. “I feel like that should automatically be off.” 

“That’s what I’m fucking saying!” She slaps your knee with the back of her hand, “But uh, no it was fucking on— And we got like— Like fucked— Said that already. Hundreds of orders. And it was so much and and— Richie was, at the time, kind of a dick—” 

“You don’t have to mince, I know what he was.” You take a sip of water, nodding. He’s a work in progress, as are you all.

“He was being a bitch and— And— I might’ve maybe lowkey stabbed him.”

“Holy fuck?!” You have to laugh, out of sheer shock. You choke on your water. “Syd?!”

“It— Swear to God—” Syd raises one hand, and puts the other over her heart. “Was an accident. Like— Like I was saying I would, and also I was like—  Thinking about it— But I didn’t mean to actually do it— Like he walked into it—”

“Jesus Christ, Manslaughter Sydney—!” “No! …A little. On occasion.”

“You ever wanna stab Carmy?” “Oh, all the fucking time.”

“Fair.” You hand her your water bottle when you spot her looking at it. You see each other, you take care of each other, without being asked. 

“And after a brutal stabbing—” “It was barely a graze, to his ass.” “—You thought to call me?”

“Yeah. You’re like. I dunno. I—” She sighs, taking a beat. “I’ve heard people talk about like— When they’re in a life or death scenario, or panicking, their first thought is like ‘I gotta call my mom’.” Syd clutches onto the water bottle like it’s a life preserver. “But I like— Like I don’t have that instinct, duh, dead mom club— But like, like my instinct when I’m scared is to call you.”

“You should’ve.” You want to take her hand, but don’t. Still working on that hesitation. You’ll both get there.

“You should’ve, too.” Syd lightly punches your knee. She tucks her lips in a line, thinking. “I would’ve been there.”

“I think I kinda got stuck in the same thought Mikey had, with Carmen.” You prop your knee up, hugging it to you. “Didn’t wanna drag you down with me. Didn’t want you to know I— That I’m not really uhm— That I’m not all that great.”

“I didn’t ask you to be great.” Syd says it before she thinks it, and it’s enough to make your eyes water. In a good way. She continues. “I didn’t ask you to be my somme, either. I always thought you were cool. I would always think you’re cool.”

“I…” You clear your throat, controlling your micro-expressions poorly. “I— I know. I think I just… Always do too much? Like I do everything to make myself like— Needed.”

If they need you, they can’t leave you. Though, that didn’t really stop you two from growing apart, so there goes that theory. 

“You are needed.” Syd nearly rolls her eyes at you, but realizes that might be insensitive.

Syd could’ve called Terry, when the walk-in door broke. She called you. Syd could’ve called Claire— They’re not all that close, but she could’ve, when Nat went into labour. She called you. Syd could’ve called Fak, when Carmen’s oven broke. She called you. It’s insane that you’d ever think you weren’t her lifeline. 

But she clarifies anyway, “Not that— Not that you need to be needed though, for me to want you around.”

You snatch the water bottle from her. “Well, I know that now.”

“Good.”

You all but chug the water, God you’re dehydrated. Syd laughs, “It’s not gonna fucking run away from you.”

“We don’t know that for sure.” You grin, screwing the cap back on. Sniffing, you sober up a little. “We’re never not gonna be friends again.”

“Yes, Chef.”

“Lest you go full on He Had it Comin’ on your fuckin’ co-workers again.”

She scoffs. “I promise to try to not stab someone in your presence.” 

“Deal.” You both laugh. You put your hand out to her, and without confirmation, do a handshake that must be more than a decade old. Dap, up-down, jellyfish out. Though, for your purposes, squid out. 

Incredible, you’ve hit Syd with love and nostalgia, she has to say yes now. “We’re roadtripping with Richie and Carmen instead of taking the Greyhound.”

“It’s so crazy that you think that’s gonna happen—” “It will be fun—” “Define fun for me, right now—” “We can get Christmas shopping done—”

“Fuck. Christmas is in a week.” “I know!” 

Syd scrunches up her nose. “What do I get my dad?”

“Sounds like you need to do some window shopping.” You could probably recommend something if you thought about it for two more seconds, but then you wouldn’t have an excuse to drag her along. “We could go to a Tiffany’s or something.”

“What and get him a locket?” “I’m honestly just naming stores, at this point.”

She’s thinking about it, really thinking about it. “...Could go to the MET, go through the gift shop. He’s a tchotchke guy.”

You hum, nodding. You can get her to fold. “Look at some expos, get some artistic inspiration?”

Syd’s eyes roll back, and she rolls her head back with them, head on the edge of the bed, in dismay. “...Are we doing gifts?” 

You shrug, “Was thinking I’d get you a little something.”

“So super over the top and extravagant?” “What’s the fun in telling?” “I hate you.” “So you’ll come?”

She sighs, husky. “Yeah…” She says it like she’s upset but you both know Syd is a little excited. 

You pump your fist, delighted. A win.

A comfortable silence fills the room. You flop your back down on the floor, laying on the carpet. “Thank you for helping Carmy.”

“Didn’t do much.” Syd shrugs, lazily turning her head on the bed to you. “He just needs pushing, sometimes.”

You hum, nodding. “Well, thank you for pushing.”

“You’re so welcome, dude.” You both laugh, and after another long gap of silence, she kicks you. “Stop lying on the dirty ass hotel floor, we paid for a bed.” 

“There’s something about laying on the floor, man.” You shake your head. “Get down here. I can see the scope of the universe from down here, actually.”

With a profoundly deep sigh, Syd rolls over to you. Your shoulders touch as you both stare at the ceiling. She hums, pointing to the popcorn tiles. “Oh yeah, secrets of the universe, right there.”

“I told you.” You nod, wisely. You frown. “...When do you think it’s like, too soon, to say ‘I love you’?”

“Oh my fucking God it’s that bad—” “Just answer!” “Definitely right now is too fucking soon!” “Well, yeah, I fuckin’ figured—!” “I’d say like, another month or two, minimum.”

“I think I might explode, by then, if I’m being honest.” You turn your head to her. “I’m really worried I’m gonna forget I haven’t already said it and I’m gonna say it at a stupid moment and it’s gonna be lame and embarrassing and bad.”

Syd turns her head to you. “Yeah, that’s probably what’s gonna happen.”

“Okay, so you’re no fuckin’ help.” You snort. 

“What do you want me to say? You love to the point of embarrassment.” She shrugs, smiling at your demise. But then Syd sobers up a little, turning her body to face you, leaning her head on her hand. “Are you sure, though?”

“I think so, yeah.” You cross your arms, nodding, assuring yourself, practically. “I feel what I think can only be described as emotionally violent— affectionately. And I think that’s what love is. Pretty sure.”

“Hm.” Syd watches you watch her. You’re absolutely getting lost in your own brain. She pokes the space between your eyebrows, you wake back up. “What’s in there?”

You blink, “Thinking of all the worst ways I could say it.” In front of everyone, accidentally while saying goodbye, off-handedly while hanging up, over text, and so on and so forth.

“Okay, that sounds awful and unproductive so let’s go to bed, huh?” Syd grunts, sitting up. She reaches for your hand to help you stand up with her. “Just try saying it normal.”

You take a breath, looking her in the eyes, say it normal. “Love you.”

“Yeah, just say it like that.”

“Oh, so I can say it—” “In two months.”

“Wait, is one more month hard off the table now—” “Now it’s three.” “Fuck, it’s gaining interest?!”

Just try to make it to next year without saying it, you’d take that happily. Just make it to Christmas. Okay, maybe just make it until you get back to Chicago…Maybe just take a vow of silence. 

You shake your head, coming back to reality.

“Wait, what the fuck, Syd, say it back!”

wooooo

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Next Part

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

Honey bee (dad!hanjisung)

The whole "favourite parent" theory never really convinced you to the fullest, not with how much Daisy was obsessed with her father, her very first word being "dada!", the biggest rounded eyes looking excitedly at him, her cute little mouth just a happy happy o shape as she tuned to her dad when you had first asked her to try and say the word, which nearly brought Jisung to tears right then and there.

With you being the parent that was at home the most though, you were quite used to being wrapped around her little finger, catering to her every need, helping her and caring for her through her trickiest nights and seasonal flu.

Jisung tried his very very best at being as present as possible and not miss on any important milestones such as her first word, which had happened fairly recently, or the first few little steps she walked from your seated figure to him, resting his bum on the carpet, opposite you, both of your arms outstretched for her shall she stumble on her little feet. He was there. Overjoyed.

Whenever he came home from work, be it at 2 in the morning or 4 in the afternoon, he always made sure to go and see his baby, even if it was for a little bit, like his lunch break or five minutes before going to bed, he always stuck to his habit of just taking a few minutes to just look at her, kiss her cheek, play with her or have a cuddle if she was awake.

And Daisy must have developed a sixth sense for that, even for a toddler as young as barely one year old, she just knew whenever her dad was about to come home. And she would become just a liiiiiitle restless and fussy with either excitement or desperate anticipation. Hence you secretly started to believe perhaps he was the favourite parent, probably cause she loved him so, and missed him just as much, despite his best efforts.

Tonight was just one of those nights, Jisung had literally just gotten home not even 3 hours ago, it was way past her bed time but none of you had the heart to deny either of you some bonding family time, or better yet father and daughter quality time.

He had postponed his shower and his unpacking and just picked her up from the floor where she was playing quietly with you, and smothered her little face with kisses and hugged her and hold her and played with her for as long as possible before she required a nappy change and the delayed night time routine.

Neither of you felt like you were being bad parents. Routines and regular sleeping schedules were important but so is being patient and lenient, understanding of your child needs and yours as parents too. A little indulgence and some extra cuddles never hurt anyone.

Bathed and half way through her bottle, baby Daisy was having a hard time concentrating on the soft lullaby bed time story you were reading her, she kept rubbing her small chubby knuckles into her eyes and half giggling cause she was too awake and eager, kept fidgeting and twitching in her sleeveless sleep sack she usually loved being swaddled in.

"Ah I see, you're not so sleepy tonight are you? Silly little bloom you are", you giggle at her cute happy and definitely more than alert face, gently pinching her rosy cheeks, "is someone just so excited dada's home? Shall we go see him? Shall we have dada sing you to sleep tonight?", you suggest rhetorically, knowing that even though she can't fully grasp what you're saying she definitely understands any mention of her father.

With a little huffing and puffing from the effort, you roll over onto the side and get up from her little bed wich you had squeezed yourself in, you unzip her sleeping sack and pick her up, gently brushing away her satiny soft wisps of dark brown hair, just barely curling at the tips, you balance her on your hip, careful to distribute her weight evenly so you don't strain yourself, and slowly pad into the corridor and then into your master bedroom where you find your husband folding his clothes into the closet, his suitcases now empty, discarded on the floor beside the bed.

"Knock knock? A certain daisy bloom is requesting her sweet honey bee to help her sleep tonight", you announce playfully as you cup your daughter's little hand and help her knock on the door, Jisung spins around with a start, his face immediately lighting up, "oh goodness!", he muses excitedly, dropping whatever shirt he was trying to neatly fold in his lap.

He walks over to you, grinning from ear to ear, and gently lifts Daisy from your arms and into his, holding her close to his chest so he can place a fluttery stream of kisses into her hair, "is it true Deiji girl? you want Dada?", he coos, sitting on the edge of the bed, relishing in the way his baby girl latches onto him, her little arms and hands trying to grip onto his neck as she squeaks happily, "da-dda", she blubbers, burying her face into his chest.

He shoots you the puppy eyes, his bottom lip trembling, the look on his face so devastatingly amazed and touched, which you reciprocate, clutching your own chest, watching as he cuddles her closer while he scoots on the bed so he can rest his back onto the bed frame, the baby not even shifting into his arms, her ear pressed onto his pectoral, perhaps a subconscious reminiscence of when she used to do that as a newborn.

Endless were the days when Jisung wouldn't dare breathing too loud, scared he would disturb her sleep, and would hold her like that for hours on end, the tiny shell of her ear pressed onto his hearbeat, his hands rubbing her back ever so lightly in soothing motion, his lips brushing her head every once in a while in a dream like state, or a suppressing-his- leg - cramps - and- impeding- need- to- pee- and- breathe- normally- hazy state. For there was no way in hell he was going to move and wake her up.

Fatherhood. What an immense blessing to have been bestowed upon him. Jisung was the most wonderful father despite the demands of his tight working schedules, he had been pouring himself out for your daughter from day one, and you had been witnessing him blossoming into his nurturing calling just like his first baby name's sake.

"You guys... I'm going to cry", you mumble, feeling suddenly very emotional at the scene before you, "me too... oh... how I missed her", Jisung sniffles, snuggling his baby tightly but still carefully enough so he doesn't crush her, "she's so cuddly I'm going to die", he adds then, holding her up closer to his face so he can kiss her cheeks and her forehead and the tip her nose and her cheeks again and her nose again.

"You are the best cuddler in the whole world you know that sweetheart?", he says softly, gazing into his daughter boba brown eyes, a miniature version of his own eyes, along with the squishiest cheeks and poutiest lips she inherited straight from him as well, whereas she had your nose and your chin and seemingly your hair, the perfect tiny combination of both of you guys' genes.

Daisy tilts her head to the side and slabbers a little, adorable loud giggles escaping her mouth, "dadda eeppyy", she gabbles, trying to stand on her tippy toes in Jisung's lap, whose hands hover over her small frame, catching her whenever she wobbles unsteadily, "dada's sleepy? Yeah, I am sleepy. Is Daisy sleepy too? Shall we go night night?", he says sweetly, smiling proudly, elated at just how bright and smart and cute his daughter is, "ya", she says in her tiny voice, trying to nod lightly, mimicking a small yawn after.

"Okay, night night we go then. Let's say bye bye to omma and sissy first! Say night night mommy, night night sissy!", Jisung instructs tenderly, brushing her hair with his fingers and then gently guiding her to you so she can crawl over and cup your cheeks in her little hands:" nah nah mam-mah", she babbles, her aim a little off when she tries to kiss your cheek and ends up slobbering all over your face.

Which you can't help but laugh endeared at: "good night sweetie, I love you, sissy loves you too!", you say softly, your hands cradling your round bump. A fond smile and soft gaze into his eyes, Jisung pecks your lips once, lingering there just for a second, a promise for more at a later time.

"Let's say bye bye to sissy too, where is sissy?", he adds then, gently encouraging Daisy to use her little pointer finger to poke at your chest, just slightly above your heart, "aw sissy is mommy's heart, but she's also in mommy's belly!", he prods her on gently, until she pokes your belly too, smiling excitedly, "good girl! There's sissy! say goodnight sissy, I love you! like this, here, watch dada", he explains patiently, bending down to kiss your belly once, and then twice, and then thrice.

Soon enough Daisy copies him and you find yourself overwhelmed with a flurry of slobbery kisses all over your tummy and your chest, the echo of your husband and daughter's giggling and smacking their lips on your skin making your tear up with both joy and the prickling feeling of having to go toilet with how much they're ticking you.

"Night night Nari, we love you", Jisung whispers, his lips pretty much still attached to you, an arm firmly wrapped around his toddler and the other cradling your belly, honey dripping from his words and his eyes.

[enhaheeseung]

BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 1400+

Note: another short one, continuation of part 1 you can read it here

Part 3

-

You barely made it to the driveway with your luggage, and your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, was literally following you into the parking lot in his boxers, practically begging you not to leave him. “Babe, please don’t go,” he said, holding onto the door handle on the driver's side, stopping you from getting in.

“Move,” you told him dryly, trying your best to keep your composure.

“No” he shook his head back and forth and you sighed deeply. “Let’s just talk it out, please, y/n. I regret what I said, and I don’t even know why I said it cause I love you, and I need you so much, baby. You don’t understand. Just the thought of not waking up next to you, is killing me inside.”

“Well, you said it so easily like our relationship meant nothing. You ended five years in five seconds like my feelings didn’t matter. It killed me inside to hear you say that to me, and now you only care now that you’re hurting,” you kept your tears at bay for however long that would be.

“No baby, listen, I love you, okay? I was stupid to even say that to you. I’m sorry I hurt you.” his hand slipped off the handle, reaching to take hold of your hand, but you evaded his touch.

You unlocked the car, attempting to leave so you wouldn’t have to talk to him any longer. It was already hard enough to leave him. You didn’t want to make it harder and stay.

“Wait, y/n, I-“

“I thought you said you were done talking,” you rudely cut him off, replying to him harshly.

“I meant none of it. Believe me, please just come back inside.” You could hear the desperation in his voice grow with every syllable.

“Nothing you say can ever change my mind.” You used his own words against him, glaring at him as you opened the back door and loaded up your luggage before entering the driver's side.

“Just give me a chance, please, baby, don’t leave me.” his voice was soft, barely audible after being mixed with the strong winds outside.

“I’m done talking” you shut the door in his face no matter how many tears rolled down his cheeks and no matter how hard he tried to get the door open you ignored it all backing the car out of the driveway while he begged and pleaded for you to stay even going as far to come out into the street despite the neighbors watching the whole scene unfold.

A tear finally rolled down your cheek, and you could still see him in your rearview mirror, watching him for one last time as you got further and further away from him.

He stood at the edge of the driveway, not even caring about being in his underwear. All that plagued his mind was the thought of never seeing you again as your car disappeared into the distance.

-

You arrived safely at your parent's house a few hours later. They asked tons of questions when you came through the door, but all you told them was that you and heeseung broke up.

That’s the only thing you could manage to get out.

Of course, they were shocked, angry, curious, and sad all at once, but you couldn’t talk about it right now. You were too hurt. Toluckily, they understood you wanted to be alone right now, and you appreciated that cause you just needed some time to register what was actually happening and what breaking up with heeseung meant for your future.

You plopped down on your old bed after putting your luggage down, staring at the ceiling and wondering how things went so wrong in the past year.

One week after the breakup

[Voicemail One]

“Hey baby, did you arrive safely? I texted you a week ago, but you didn’t read them,” he dryly chuckles. “Anyways, I hope you did. I hope you’re resting well and having fun with your family. I’m sorry again for hurting you; I just- I don’t know,” he sighs frustratedly. “You’re probably never gonna get this, uhm, bye, I guess.”

Two weeks after the breakup

[Voicemail Two]

“Hey, little one, I know you’re not listening, but it brings me comfort just sending this to your phone. It’s like I’m really talking to you.” he clears his throat softly. “I miss you, and I love you so much, can’t stop thinking of you and what you’re up to. I’m not doing much; I'm just working like always, but I’m off this week. They gave me a full week's vacation,” he sighs, wishing he had gotten it a few weeks sooner. Maybe that dreadful night wouldn’t have ever occurred. “Wish I could spend it with you. I wish I could spend every day with you.” he goes silent, just thinking about you and him and all the things he could have done differently instead of irrationally taking his anger out on you. “I hope your days are better than mine. I’m gonna go now. Bye love”

Three weeks after the breakup

[Voicemail Three]

“Hi love, how are you? I’m doing good, but it could be better. Vacation isn’t the same without you. It’s so…. Silent, I miss our conversations. I miss how we’d just cuddle all night and be lazy together, “ he laughs. “It’s ironic now I have all this free time and no one to spend it with. I know this will be the most boring week of my life, but I hope you’re having fun wherever you are, even if it’s not with me. Talk to you later, baby.”

One month later…..

[Voicemail Four]

“Hi, sweetheart. I thought you might like to know I’m sleeping more and eating a lot more, too. I barely get any work done now cause I’m always thinking of you. You take up every crevice of my brain. I’ve been sleeping 'cause it feels like time goes faster that way, and when I’m asleep, I don’t have to think about how much I miss you, and well, I eat more 'cause I’m bored,” he chuckles at himself. “I’m a mess, but I’m sure you already know that. By the way, I literally begged for you to stay. Well, I’m sure I’m probably ringing your ear off, so I’ll say bye. I’ll call you again tomorrow, same time. Love you, baby, bye!”

Two months later…..

“Oh umm, hi, I wasn’t expecting you,” heeseung grins at your mom, who was standing outside his door.

He wasn’t expecting any visitors, but he was pleasantly surprised to see her face.

“Hi,” she greets, simply not as cheery as she once used to be when she saw him. “Y/n said she had a few things, and I offered to get them for her.”

Heeseung nods with a smile, opening the door wider so your mom can enter. “Come in.” he can’t say that he’s not a bit sad that you didn’t come over to get the remaining items you had left at his place. He was hoping maybe he’d get to see you at least one more time, but apparently not.

Your mom enters with perfect posture, her head held high, making it obvious that she wasn’t the least bit impressed with what she used to call her son-in-law.

“How are you?” He says timidly while they walk to the living room, where your stuff is placed neatly in a brown box.

“Fine” she answers headed straight for the box not interested in even talking to him after what you told her about him.

“And y/n?” He asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes, hoping to at least get an update on your whereabouts and how you were doing after all this time.

“She’s fine is this all there is?” Your mother responds quick leaving no room for any other questions.

He feels his body relax. Just knowing you’re doing okay made him feel better. “Y-yes, I’m glad to hear you’re both doing well.” he offers a smile that doesn’t even get noticed. “Would you like me to take that to the car f-“

“I have it, thank you, heeseung.” She used his real name, something she never did after you and him started officially dating, and it hurt his heart being called that by her.

She walked to the exit, seeing her own way out. “By-“The door gets all but slammed in his face, making him feel even worse about what he’s done to you and, evidently, your family as well.

He locks his door, shuffles back into his bedroom, lying on your side of the bed, and pulls out his phone so he can send you yet another voicemail.

-

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[fatuismooches]

fabulam diu oblitus - postlude.

synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is the fourth part of this fic, please read the other parts first! It seems that the fairy tale of you and Dottore comes to an end. Follows some of Sumeru's storyline. Warning for death. Angst. Thank you to my mootie @kaixserzz and my all of my dear anons (🎐, 🐓 <3) who kept me inspired to keep writing this fic :3

prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.

“The raven and butterfly’s happiness continued for much longer. But of course, every creature is aware that nothing lasts forever, and even the lightning in the sky would agree with that statement. All fairytales must come to an end. That was no different for the raven and the butterfly.”

There had been a buzz around the lab lately. Some of the segments had been ordered to leave for a Fatui mission. Which, would have been a normal occurrence, were it not for the place they were headed to this time.

“Sumeru? You’re going to Sumeru?” Your home country had instantly gotten your attention, not only because you haven’t been back in centuries, but also because the segments were never usually dispatched there, instead causing their usual chaos in other nations.

“Indeed. We will see if the Balladeer is able to become the God he so desires to be,” Omega hummed, moving a hand underneath your shirt to record your heartbeat. Ah, that was right. The puppet had stolen the Electro Gnosis to use as his ascension into godhood… and Dottore would be there to see how his experiment plays out. Well, you already had a feeling about how that would turn out. 

Moving on to a different subject, although Sumeru was the home you and Zandik were chased out of, you still held fond memories of it. Many happy things happened there for you, so the thought of it made you smile.

“You have to bring back lots of stories for me! And souvenirs! Oh, I would love to see how much Sumeru has changed from all those years ago,” you dreamily smiled. Yeah, your favorite cafe was probably gone by now… but you’d love to see what replaced it!

“Of course. I expect there will be much to say with the God of Wisdom and the Traveler intervening as well,” Omega chuckled, scribbling down something on his clipboard after glancing at the monitor, before fixing your shirt back.

“Your vitals have been better lately,” the segment commented and patted your head, which you happily indulged in. It wasn’t too noticeable, but it seemed like your body was getting even a little bit better. Not much, a little. But that was good anyway. “But run along now. There is much preparation to be done regarding the trip to Sumeru.”

“Okayyyy,” you stretched your words a bit disappointedly, not wanting to leave the segment, but you knew he had a lot of work to do. So instead you settled with pecking him on the cheek which he of course returned tenfold before you went off on your way. You had quite a few segments to say goodbye to, after all! You’d miss them a lot, but, you still had the other segments here with you. And your lover of course.

Surely, they would be back in the blink of an eye. Yes, surely, they’d return just as they always did. You had no reason to think otherwise. And so for the next few days, everything was normal. Time passed regularly. You got through the days as you did with any other.

But one day was different.

You were in your room by yourself, enjoying your alone time. Because as much as you loved being around the segments, you still liked being by yourself too. But all of a sudden, your tranquility was interrupted by literally a bang on your door, which made you jump.

The knock on your door was frantic and loud. Immediately you hopped out of bed to see what could possibly be so important that your door was getting pounded, but when you opened the door there was no one there. You were very confused… how was that possible? This was a pretty long hallway. Even with the segments’ abilities, there was no way they could just disappear into thin air like that. 

A bad feeling began to creep up on you, your stomach twisting and turning. You don’t know why, but it just did. But surely you were overreacting. Perhaps… perhaps… actually, you didn’t have any valid reasoning you could think of right now. Maybe though, maybe you should go and check on them. Just in case. You know that they’ll be there, in the lab doing their experiments or perhaps bickering with each other as usual, but there was nothing wrong with double-checking. And then you’ll calm yourself with a nice hug from one of them. It would all be okay. 

But you found that your steps were quicker and longer than usual, your breathing heavier than usual. As you got closer to the main lab’s doors, you strained your ears for their voices, anything, something, but heard nothing. You licked and bit your lip that had gone dry, weak legs walking even faster if that was possible, before you swung open the doors, hoping to see those blue mops of hair you so desired to see.

Nothing. The room was empty.

Your footsteps slowed, walking into the room cautiously. It was strange because it looked as if there were people in here just a few minutes ago. Notes that were left unfinished halfway. Beakers that had broken on the floor, with some mysterious liquids soaking the floor. Strange, very strange. And yet no trace of any segments remained.

The bad feeling had grown into something much worse now. Where else? Where else could they be? 

Their rooms. You should check their rooms. They were usually there if they weren’t in the lab, doing their own respective work (because their office and rooms doubled as one since they didn’t need to sleep.) So despite how your chest burned, and your legs ached, it didn’t matter if it meant your heart would be soothed and relieved.

You ran as fast as you could, more like you tried to because your illness had really kicked in since your mind was stressing out a great amount. As you clung to the walls, catching your breath, you paid no mind to the random agents who were looking at you funny, nor did you manage to catch their words of “Omega” or “erased” or “gone.”

It took longer than it should have taken you, but at last, you made it to the corridor with the segments’ rooms. You didn’t bother to knock, swinging open the door to Alpha’s room.

Empty.

Beta’s room.

Empty.

Every single room was empty. Fuck, even Zandy’s room was empty. And he was always in there if he wasn’t with you. Your head was throbbing with unease now, your heavy, troubled breathing sounding throughout the whole hallway. Where? Where? Where did they go…?!

“[Name].” A voice sounded from behind you. Spinning around, it was Dottore. Your Dottore! Okay, at least he was still here!

“Dottore,” you breathed a sigh of relief. He would have an explanation for this. “Dottore, where are all the segments? I-I can’t find them anywhere. I mean, I know the lab is really big, but it’s strange for them not to be in these areas,” you placed a hand on your rapidly beating heart, trying to calm it, not noticing your husband’s expression.

“...” The scientist was unsure of how to break the news to you because he knew of the bond you shared with the segments.

“Dottore? Why aren’t you answering me?” He opened his mouth to respond, but paused, seemingly trying to determine the best way to phrase his words. That only worried you more, because he was never one to sugarcoat his words. Your nervousness had returned once more, burning heat from fear creeping up your shoulders. “Zandik, answer me.”

“They’re gone, [Name].” The words took a few moments to settle in, silence overtaking the area for a little bit. But only for a little bit, as your nervous laughter rang out interrupting it.

“Gone?” You repeated. “What do you mean gone? They just can’t be gone. Right? Right, Dottore?” The nervous smile that had etched its way onto your face hurt badly, the laughter mixed with wheezing was painful, but it was all you could do to convince yourself this was a lie.

“Omega has… deleted them in exchange for the Electro Gnosis.” You looked at him blankly, the former emotion on your face gone.

“Deleted? Deleted from this world? From existence?” Your tone got higher and higher as you continued speaking. You didn’t even know Omega had the ability to do that. Or that the segments could be erased in the first place. Dottore just nodded in response. 

“But- but why? Surely t-there was another way?” Your voice was on the verge of breaking into tears.

“He wanted to show respect to the God of-”

“Respect? To a God, of all people?” You hissed, bubbles of anger surfacing now through your agony. “He’s a Harbinger, is he not? And he’s stronger than that God! He- he could have easily found another way! He didn’t have to DELETE the segments! Another method HAD to have been possible! Did he even try to negotiate?!” Hot tears ran down your cheeks as you raised your voice at him. It took everything it had in you not to fully scream. You began to pace back and forth, hand covering your already tear-streaked face, whole body shaking. Your husband could only watch.

Dottore wasn’t thrilled with Omega deleting all his segments either, with the endless resources that went into creating them, but what’s done was done. And both the Electro and Dendro Gnoses were acquired. But you? You were on the verge of hysterics. He had never, not once, seen you like this. 

You had come to a stop, head buried into your arm as you braced against the wall. Oh, the segments were gone forever. They were never coming back. You could only imagine how they must have been in their last moments. That they only had a few more moments to live. You couldn’t bring yourself to think about what Zandy must have thought in his last few seconds.

And what’s more, the segments had disappeared into… nothingness. There was no trace, no remains of their bodies whatsoever. And although seeing their bodies on the floor would have certainly destroyed you, perhaps this was even a worse fate. Because it was as if they never existed at all. You couldn’t even hold their bodies one last time, or give them a proper farewell. They were just… gone. Oh, how you wished you could have at least been there in their last moments, to provide some comfort, some love, some sense of peace. The more you thought about it, the countless memories with them flowing through your mind, the weaker your violently shaking body became as you struggled to hold yourself up. Dottore instantly noticed and, worrying about your frail condition, walked up to you before you spat out at him.

“Do not come near me.” Out of all the centuries Zandik has spent with you, he has never been on the receiving end of much anger from you. Rather, it was you who dealt with that from him. But this wasn’t just anger. It felt like venom.

“Why…” You pulled yourself up once again before glaring at him with teary eyes. “Why didn’t you stop him, Zandik? You could have, couldn’t you? They didn’t have to die…!”

There was only one answer the Harbinger could provide, even though he knew you would not like it. “It was necessary to obtain the Electro and Dendro Gnoses for the Fatui.” To this, you could only laugh again once more before digging your nails into your palms so hard it hurt.

“I see. I see…” You mumbled brokenly before stepping off to the side, your steps still unsteady and wobbly as you nearly tripped. Dottore once again tensed up, body wanting to move to support you, but the look on your face made him decide against it. You then walked past him, not sparing another look at him before exiting the corridor, tears still silently running down your face. He could only watch you as you left him standing, wondering about many things yet nothing at all.

—

“From that day, there was a drastic shift in the butterfly and raven’s relationship. The butterfly was indescribably hurt by the loss of the other ravens, and could not bear the pain. It was the first time the raven had ever been subjected to such cold treatment by his lover. Usually, it was the other way around. And it seemed like fixing this would not be easy.”

Dottore thought that if he gave you some space, you’d cool off soon enough.

He thought wrong.

You had flat-out been ignoring Dottore since the day the segments were erased. And not just refusing to talk to him. You didn’t even want to be in the same space as him. If he came into your room, you would just leave. As soon as he opened his mouth, you were gone. In order to give you your meds, he had to wait until you were sleeping to slip in, because of the way you were acting. When it was time to eat, he had to leave the meal outside your door, otherwise, you wouldn’t eat. That is if you even took it. The grief made it hard for you to do a lot of things, which made it imperative for him to help, but you didn’t want it. You were distraught, but you were angry too. Why? 

Because you truly loved the segments.

Dottore did not. He did not feel the same connection as you did. So he was at a loss. He didn’t know what to do to resolve this. Apologize? No, he suspected even if he did, it wouldn’t mean anything, because you’d know he didn’t fully mean it, and it wouldn’t bring the segments back anyway. Comfort you? You wouldn’t allow him to hold you or talk to you. Il Dottore did not know what should be done.

Omega received similar treatment when finally returned from Sumeru, the Gnoses in hand. Normally, you would be waiting at the entrance whenever he returned from expeditions. This time, however, you were not, which he supposed he should have expected. You didn’t want his stories. His gifts. No, all you needed to know was that he deleted the segments. They were gone because of him, and you didn’t want to see him right now.

Omega was not a human. He was a segment. Though, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t feel emotions. He did - when it came to you. But Omega was a selfish segment. Selfish when it came to a lot of things, you included. And selfishness and emotions do not bode very well, as it becomes… a convoluted mixture.

The segment thinks of himself as a patient man. He knows how to wait, and wait, and wait until it pays off. He can do that for you, too. Wait for you to come back to your senses. After all, they were just segments, right? And the superior one, the best one of them all was still here - him. So surely you won’t be like this for too long.

Just like his creator, he was proven wrong. He learned the depth of your anger a day he tried reaching out to you, wanting to put this whole situation behind. But you certainly didn’t share the same sentiment. It was like any other day, him talking to you and you walking away, but this time he reached out for you. The segment unconsciously longed for your touch, your affection, that was once so commonplace.

But as soon as you felt his fingers brush yours, you slapped Omega’s hand away with a scowl. You didn’t need to say anything. That one action spoke everything you wanted to.

You would never view him the same ever again.

—

“And so the butterfly found themselves drowning and suffocating in grief. Their whole life had been changed, the creatures who helped them through so much were now gone. But that would not be the last of the butterfly’s sorrow.”

You had been giving the cold shoulder to Zandik and Omega for a long time. Considering how clingy and affectionate you were before, they didn’t even know you had it in you. But now, it was as different as night and day. However, it wasn’t as much as it was before, because you still had to rely on them in order to live. Despite how much you didn’t want to, without them, you’d be dead. They were the ones who had to administer your medicine and give you check-ups so your condition wouldn’t get worse (although it already happened after the segments were deleted.) It was funny how easily progress could be reversed. How one thing, one random day, could change everything.

So eventually you had to let them in a bit. Most of the time you just ignored them and rarely spoke. Even during the checkups and shots, you had your head turned the other way the whole time. They would still attempt to talk to you, in hopes you would even grace them with a “yes” or “no” rather than the rare nod of your head. But it wasn’t very fruitful. 

Another habit of yours now was that if you weren’t in your room, you were most likely in a segment’s room crying. Especially Zandy’s. Clutching his plushies. Or maybe Alpha’s. Trying to fix up the parts he left lying on his desk. Or Beta’s. Going into his closet to wear his coat. Dottore knew better than to clean out their rooms because you would most likely snap at him again.

You didn’t have much energy to do anything else but lay in your room, blankly staring at the ceiling all day, your head a foggy, grief-filled mess. It did not feel good… you hated the feeling… but what else should you do…? You just wished you could feel the warmth of your segments… the seemingly annoyed but secretly delighted posture of Alpha as you held him from behind. The bitey nature of Beta that didn’t let you go once you were in his clutches. The small, clingy body of Zandy as he cuddled into your body, sweet dreams blessing him instead of the nightmares. But you could only dream about those things now.

Even the regular Fatui agents had noticed this development. The lovey-dovey nature of Il Dottore’s spouse was now reduced to this. You heard them speak about it.

“Have you noticed? Lord Dottore has been far more irritable lately.”

“Oh yeah, both Omega and Prime! I feel bad for those who have to work directly with them…. At least my job is just standing at this door all day.”

“I know. They always were terrifying, but it seems even worse now. Ugh, and now there’s even more work for us since all the segments are gone.”

“Do you know why? Has Lord Pantalone decreased his budget again?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of obvious…” The agent lowered his voice to a whisper. “His spouse, [Name], has been giving them the silent treatment for ages now. Don’t tell anyone this but, I believe that our great Harbinger, Lord Il Dottore… is feeling the effects of this. I’ve never seen them act like this!”

“Is that so? Speaking of, I don’t think I’ve seen them around here very much.”

“Well yes… if you were here for as long as I have been, you’d normally see them all over the lab but, they tend to stay locked up in their room nowadays. And Lord Dottore as well, he doesn’t leave his office much either. Omega seems to take care of much of the outward responsibilities.”

So that was what it was like. You got your answer to if Dottore missed you. You wondered how many people accidentally became his test subjects due to his rising temper because of you. But though it may not have looked like it, not speaking to your husband was hurting you tremendously as well. Because at the end of the day… he was your love, your life. He was your Zandik, the one who meant everything to you. The one who went through everything and anything with you. He was the only one you had… you still loved him, terribly so. Maybe that was a bigger weakness than your illness.

But that didn’t mean you were any less mad at him.

Omega, on the other hand… ah, you didn’t even know what to think anymore… you were so conflicted, it was so hard to even think… when you said you loved all the segments, that included him too. But he deleted all of them… you hated him… but did you love him too? No, you should continue to hate him, he was the selfish one… Zandy was gone because of him… you couldn’t forgive him! So you didn’t forgive him. The days continued the same as always. 

Until one fateful day.

Omega was set to head out on a mission. Which was quite unusual nowadays, because ever since the clones were deleted, he couldn’t afford to leave Snezhnaya with all the work that had to be done. All you had heard was that the blonde-haired traveler would be there too, from all the whispering around the lab.

But what did it matter to you? Whether the segment was here or not, it was the same to you. His whereabouts were surely not of concern to you, so you had no feelings on this. Though the night before he was set to leave, he knocked on your door anyway. You immediately pulled the blankets over your face and curled to the side of the bed so you wouldn’t see Omega. The door shut with a click and his boots sounded against the floor.

“Hello, [Name]. I’m sure you’ve heard by now that I am leaving soon. It is another critical mission for the Fatui, and I suspect the Traveler will be there once again.” He didn’t receive a response from you, which he expected. “But I’m sure this is of no interest to you, anyway.” He guessed right, you thought, you didn’t care. However, even after saying what he had to say, he did not leave. A silence overtook the room as neither of you moved or spoke. But then Omega called your name, with another short silence coming after it before he spoke once more.

“I will not ask for your forgiveness, because I know I will not receive it, nor will I apologize, because I believe I took the right course of action. But…” Omega paused, “I still hold you fondly. I still…” He reached his hand out to your covered body but drew it back before his fingertips could brush you.

“I hope we will be able to talk more once I return.” He seemed to wait a few more seconds, perhaps hoping you would stay something, hoping he could at least see your face before he left, but to no avail. All you heard was the retreating footsteps and the click of your door shutting once more. You pulled the blankets off so you could breathe properly again, as you thought about his words.

What should you do? You didn’t know. The segments had passed quite a while ago, and the pain was still fresh in your heart, but Omega… ugh… perhaps, maybe, just maybe, you could try talking to him once more. Only an attempt. If you didn’t like how it felt, you’d stop. And he wasn’t returning from the mission for a few months, so you had ample time to make your decision anyway.

But Omega never returned.

The next few months flew by quickly, and though Omega had not returned yet, you thought nothing of it. Something must have come up that delayed his return. It’s happened before, it probably happened again. That was until you noticed groups of Fatui huddled together murmuring in the lab. As soon as they saw you, they went back to work and shut up their little gossip quickly, which was very strange. Now you really needed to know what was going on, so you decided to silently eavesdrop on the next pair you found. But you would have never thought of the words you heard next.

Omega had been killed by the Traveler. 

Omega was dead.

Omega wasn’t coming back.

You would never see him ever again. The realization made your body weak as you stumbled back, having to cling to the wall for support. He was gone… the tears immediately sprang to your eyes, as you covered your mouth to keep your sobs down. Omega killed the other segments. Maybe a part of you should feel glad. But no, all you felt was red-hot grief and pain, as you crashed into the nearest random room, and cried, and cried, and cried.

If you knew that was the last time you would see him, you wouldn’t have acted like that…

You wonder why things had to turn out like this.

—

“The butterfly never truly recovered from their loss, but as they say, time heals all wounds.”

After Omega died, you didn’t have the energy to be mad anymore. You were just tired. Tired of everything. Everything felt like a chore. Though you saw your husband more often now. Since there were no more segments, and Dottore obviously wouldn’t trust even the best Fatui doctors with you, he was the one who did all the usual medical stuff for you now.

Admittedly, his touch felt nice. It felt good. It felt like exactly what you needed right now. Comfort. So you gave in. When he had finished the usual procedure, as he turned his back on you, you reached out and wouldn’t let go of his hand. Dottore stiffened from the contact - it had been a while since you’d touched him so intimately - but you didn’t let go, and only weakly tugged him closer, which he complied to. You couldn’t bring your eyes to meet his, instead blankly staring at his shoes, but he seemed to get the message anyway. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around you to gauge your reaction, and when he saw no resistance, he pulled you into his chest and held you. You missed this feeling. You missed Zandik.

And maybe you were scared he would leave you too.

Things continued like that for a while. You’d seek your husband out for his touch. His presence. His voice. Anything that would bring you some peace. Though you still remained mostly silent during these times. You just didn’t know what to say. Sometimes you wondered if he was mad at you. Annoyed. Disappointed. You didn’t want to know though. You were content with the fact that Zandik would hold you in his lap even at the wildest hours of the night.

But now, it had been some time since Omega’s death and even longer since the other segments were erased.

You weren’t quite ready to move on, no, not yet, but it was inevitable. Or perhaps you would never truly move on, instead, they would always be a part of you. You’d always carry them with you. But regardless, you needed to try, at least for Zandy. You think he’d want you to try and smile more often. You were speaking a bit more to your Harbinger friends again, and finding some enjoyment in your hobbies. Not to mention your relationship with Zandik was becoming better again. He had still been there, even when your illness and grief had you at your worst, with no complaints. Even though he had nothing to gain from this relationship. Even though you had become someone different. He had always loved you.

But there was still a rift caused by everything that had happened, that you wanted to fix. Because at the end of the day, in this world, you two only had each other. So you decided to talk to him about it. You had a habit of this, just waltzing into his office without knocking, and came upon Dottore who had a small box in his hand, appearing to gaze at whatever was in it, before he quickly snapped it shut at your sudden arrival. You recognized that box. It was the one where he kept his wedding ring in. So he still had it like that after all these years. You pretended like you didn’t see it as he swiftly put it away.

“[Name].”

“Zandik. Are you busy right now?”

“No.” Both of you knew that was a lie. The Second Harbinger was always busy. You knew for a fact he was stretched thin, especially since he wasted so much time taking care of you along with his Fatui duties, which piled up quickly with no more segments.

“Alright… can we talk?”

“Of course.” Zandik had been especially attentive to your words lately. Perhaps because he missed the times you would talk his ear off.

“I want to make something clear.” Zandik looked at you curiously as you took a deep breath. Many possibilities raced through his head.

“I still love you, Zandik.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that, and you could tell, even though his expression did not betray his thoughts.

“You already know the reason I’m…” Your voice trailed off, not wanting to say the words aloud, but you continued. “But I… appreciate you for staying by me. For all these centuries, through everything. It’s been a… very long time. And although things are different now, I want us to be… happy again. It might not be immediately but… it’s because I love you, Zandik.” You swallowed, at the end, your voice growing a bit softer. Ah, you hoped that wasn’t too sentimental. Zandik’s expression was blank so you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“So yeah, that’s all… I guess.” All of a sudden, the silence that followed made you embarrassed, and you wanted to leave there as quickly as possible. “Okay, I-I’ll let you do your work now.” And then you hastily made your exit and left the Harbinger alone, before he started chuckling to himself. He’d expect nothing less from you, his dear, darling spouse.

Though he wonders if you realize time is irrelevant for him. He’ll wait for you as long as it takes.

—

“One thing about the raven and the butterfly that would never change was that they were wholly intertwined with each other. Their fates were one. So even if they happened to go their separate ways, they would inevitably return to one another again.”

It was actually quite scary how fast time flew. From the time you woke up, to marrying Dottore, to the segments passing, to right now… it felt like a blur. You guess, now that your life span was no longer that of a regular human’s, time was starting to skew a bit for you. Well, you were just excited to spend decades more, even centuries with him.

Throughout all the years that had passed since that day, you found yourself falling more and more in love with Zandik again. You suppose that should be normal for a married couple but, it never ceased to amaze you how one man could make you feel like this.

Something that had become somewhat of a habit for the two of you was dancing. Yes, dancing. It had come up during one of your wedding anniversaries. To be honest, neither of you really did or planned anything special for the day. Perhaps there was a bit more kissing along with other affectionate activities, but you two didn’t look at it as something that big. First, because you didn’t want to waste his already precious time, but also because you knew from the beginning the wedding anniversaries would be countless. So every anniversary was more of something you expected, so it was nothing too big to celebrate, especially as people who lived this long… if that made sense. And Dottore… was Dottore after all. Never one to care much for dates.

But on one anniversary you were reminded of how you two danced during the wedding. Your clumsy steps as Dottore guided you through it all, and you wanted to relive that, so he indulged you. And funnily enough, you were a lot better! Your steps weren’t as unsteady and your body didn’t ache as much. Dottore’s feet didn’t get assaulted by yours too much. Even Dottore was pleasantly surprised. It probably had to do with the fact that although you weren’t cured yet, your health had been up on an upward curve. Of course, never the best but, much better than you first were. You were proud of yourself for making it this far.

So now, when you had time, you found yourself rehearsing your steps with him and your husband twirling you around. Perhaps one day you could reach his level.

You found that there were days that reminded you of the Akademiya. Where you could help him with his notes and research like a real assistant would. Obviously, it still wasn’t the best but it was something, and you could see that Dottore liked it. These days often came with you teasing him with embarrassing memories from the Akademiya.

“I still remember when you got motion sickness from piloting that ruin golem, Zandik.”

“For the last time, I did not get motion sickness, [Name].”

“Mhm, sure. If I didn’t drag you out, you would have-”

“That is enough from you.”

You found that there were more days he would take you out into the Snezhnayan winters (you were bundled up to the max) so you could finally see the snow. You found yourself attending your first balls at the Tsaritsa’s palace, as Dottore was now forced to attend himself rather than his segments. He didn’t want to leave you by yourself in the dreary lab so… you were often his plus one, where you spent the evening poking fun at him with Columbina. (You also were the one who publicly took sweets to-go from the parties for him so he wouldn’t get judged.)

And perhaps your favorite memory was when he took you back to Sumeru - yes, to another country - so you could witness the Akademiya Extravaganza festival. He, of course, had no interest in it, but you being you and loving fun things absolutely did. Many things happened, including meeting the Traveler… but that story was for another day.

All in all, you always knew this but, you found that no matter how many years passed, no matter what Il Dottore has done, no matter the amount of sins and wrongfulness he has committed… you were hopelessly in love with him. From the time he was that perpetually irritated but in love student from the Akademiya to his current self, the Harbinger that was a stark contrast to his former self but still possessed you for himself.

Sure, it was a bit lonely at times compared to before, but all the tender moments throughout the years made you happy to have Zandik in your life. Which is why you foolishly thought these times would last forever.

When Dottore told you he was leaving Snezhnaya, and therefore the lab, and therefore you, it jolted you right up from your sleepy daze on his lap.

“What?!” The word came out as a half yell, half-whisper. “What do you mean you’re leaving Snezhnaya?”

“It means I’m leaving Snezhnaya, dear,” he continued on his paperwork (which never seemed to end) as if this was common knowledge. “The mission needs a Harbinger to oversee it, and the task falls to me this time.” 

You were devastated. There were times when Dottore only had to leave the lab for a few days to attend to matters in different parts of Snezhnaya. (You spent the time at Columbina’s mansion because oddly enough, she always seemed to be there… how did she manage to shirk her duties so often?) But this was completely different. He would be so far out of reach, for a long time probably too. Foreign missions always took a while. You remember how long you had to wait for the segments to return from them.

“Okay, then I’ll come with you!”

“No, you’re not,” he immediately shut down your proposition. “Missions are still far too dangerous with your current state. You will stay in Snezhnaya, and wait for me to come back.” You knew when he used that tone, things were final, and you hung your head low, all sleepiness gone at the fact you wouldn’t be seeing him for months. Sure, you would be staying with Bina as usual but, you had a feeling it’d be hard to replace the rush of emotions Dottore gave you on a daily basis. 

Dottore noticed your dour expression, which he obviously expected, and sighed, setting down his pen. At this point, it was a sort of routine that he had memorized, comforting you and all. Although comfort would never be something he was adept in, years of doing it had let him become somewhat proficient. 

“[Name],” he moved his hand to guide your chin up so you could look at him. You were pouting. “These few months, or even less, depending on how quickly the work gets done, will only be a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things. I’ll be back before you know it,” he hummed. Although he certainly was not pleased about leaving you by yourself for so long, such was the life of a Fatui Harbinger. It was at times like these he missed his segments. (Did that sound selfish? Well, he was a selfish man when it came to you.)

A drop in eternity, huh? Well, when he puts it like that, then maybe it would be just a bit bearable. And, when you think about it, he’s waited over four hundred years for you, all alone. So this little challenge couldn’t be too hard, right?

“Alright… I’ll wait for you, Zandik.”

“Good,” he chuckled at how easy it was to win you over sometimes and stroked your cheek. “In the meantime, you can work on the recipe you’ve been vehemently hiding from me and show me when I’m back.” You immediately brightened at that.

“Oh yeah! I promise you’re going to like these sweets better than the ones at the bakery!” You proudly declared.

“Oh? Now that’s a high standard you’ve set yourself to, dear. Are you sure you’re going to be able to live up to it?”

“Hmph, don’t underestimate me. My baking skills have improved over the years!”

The banter always made you two feel like regular humans, despite what you two really were.

—

“The days went by peacefully for the lonely butterfly, but soon that feeling was shattered when they learned of a golden comet’s presence near their raven.”

The days in Columbina’s mansion went by rather uneventfully. Surprisingly enough, she wasn’t home as often as usual. It seemed like the Fatui were really stepping up their business now. You’d have to ask Dottore about that. Maybe the day Celestia is defeated was closer than you thought. But today was a day Bina had some time to indulge in cakes and conversation with you. The chit-chat was mundane but brought a sense of comfort until the conversation somehow ended up with Dottore as the topic. Your friend always liked teasing you about him. Everything was lighthearted and sweet until she idly mentioned his mission.

“I wonder how your Doctor is doing on the mission~”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s Dottore after all.”

“Mhm, that’s right. I do wonder how he plans to deal with the Traveler though.” The mention of the blonde’s name nearly made you drop your teacup.

“W-What?” Your voice cracked as you implored your friend to tell you more. You were now realizing that you neglected to ask Dottore what the mission exactly was, and he did not reveal the contents as well, probably because he knew you’d freak even more if you knew he was most likely going to confront the Traveler. Columbina looked confused.

“Dear, did he not tell you?”

“No! I- ah, he only told me he has a mission in another nation, I guess it slipped my mind to ask him the details!” You now had your hand clutched to your head and another one trying to soothe your now rapidly beating heart. A naive and very stupid part of you thought it wouldn’t have to come to this, but it already did, so quickly too. 

Why were you so particularly scared? It was because all you could think of was Omega’s death by the Traveler’s hand, as well as your fellow colleagues. You knew that Dottore was far stronger than any of them but… you were in a panic. All the worst possible scenarios began invading your mind relentlessly.

“[Name], calm down. Dottore is strong. We do not even know if it will end in a battle or not, but regardless of the outcome, he is smart enough to-” Bina attempted to comfort you before you interrupted her and abruptly stood up.

“I need to go.”

“Go? Go to Dottore, dear?”

“Yes. Yes, I need to see him. I need-” Your words were becoming a jumbled mess from the anxiety this piece of news caused. “I need to see him in person if he’s okay.”

“You do not think you should think about this some more? I suspect the Doctor will not be happy if he sees you there, even if it’s you of all people.”

“It doesn’t matter. If I stay here, all I’ll be able to think about is him.” You could already see yourself losing sleep and appetite over this. “But as long as I can see him okay… even if he’s angry, I can deal with it. Anything is better than being over here helpless!” Columbina watched you silently.

“Alright. Be ready in a few days.” You looked at her in surprise.

“Bina? You’re helping me? You’re not going to… stop me?”

“Dear [Name], I will not get in the way of a decision you’ve made for yourself. If this is what you’ve decided, then it is my duty as your friend to assist you as I’ve done in the past. And perhaps this will teach the Doctor a lesson to stop withholding information from you,” the Harbinger sighed.

“…Thank you, Columbina.” You’d have to repay her sometime later.

—

“The raven and the butterfly found themselves reunited again at long last, and would stay together like that forever.”

It was funny you found yourself back here, your home country. It seems like you two were always drawn back here, despite no longer being welcomed. But that didn’t really matter too much, because as soon as the boat you were on pulled into the port, it was clear that today was not a normal day in Sumeru City.

You were too late. 

The fight had clearly already begun, probably only recently too, by the chaotic state of Sumeru. Obviously, it’d be out of order if there were two immensely powerful beings in battle with each other. Maybe, if you were just a bit sooner… but you already had your mind set. Although the Fatui agent entrusted with your safety was ready to head back already, his orders to not let you come to any danger, you just tranquilized him. (It was a courtesy device from Dottore in case he wasn’t near.)

And you ran. Was that a good idea considering your illness? Absolutely not, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Was it a good idea to walk into the middle of a battle? Also no, but you couldn’t shake the bad feeling you had this whole time. 

Although it was far away, it was easy to spot the place, as for one there were Fatui swarming the area and also regular citizens running in the opposite direction. Though your lungs were absolutely burning, your knees weak and scraped from tripping, tired from bumping into others, illness flaring up even worse from the added stress and exertion, you continued ahead with only one goal. To see your husband.

Throughout your haggard walking, you thought of the future. You thought of how great it would be to see Teyvat change in the next four hundred years just as he did. And this time, Dottore would not have to witness it by himself. He would have you. It would be amazing, just thinking of all the variety of new inventions and such that would be created! You two would surely dissect them and put them back together for fun. You two would do a lot of things, you think, as you finally made it to the door of the grand building the fight was in. It was already rather damaged, but the door managed to remain mostly intact, so you pushed it open.

Just in time to see the Traveler land the final fatal hit to Zandik, his body landing on the floor with a painful thud.

Your worst nightmare had become reality. But… Zandik told you he’d return to you in no time…

Suddenly, all the will you had before was gone in an instant. You didn’t have the energy or focus to call out his name. All you could do was blankly stare at his defeated body while taking some hesitant steps forward, all while mumbling something incoherent under your breath. The Traveler, despite their exhaustion, noticed you and immediately readied their sword again. But, they soon realized that there was no need for that from the exceedingly dull look in your eyes and the way you tripped over yourself again, landing on the floor, reaching out your hand towards the Doctor. You had to make it to him.

You pathetically dragged your body closer to Zandik, every part of it screaming out in part for you to stop. But you didn’t care. You could take it. After all, you knew the pain would soon be over. The Traveler merely watched you, still a bit on edge for what you could do, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything besides Zandik, so you continued inching your body to your husband before you finally reached him. His body was practically motionless, his face revealed as his mask was destroyed to the side somewhere. When you came into view, a flicker of surprise came across his face but it quickly morphed into one of acceptance.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” You half-laughed at that.

“I could say the same to you…” Your voice had dropped to a soft, defeated one. Huffing and panting, you used your last remaining strength to pull yourself up and kneel, tenderly bringing your husband’s head onto your lap. He did not resist. It wasn’t like he had the strength to anyway. “You didn’t tell me you were going to be here, either.”

“It was not necessary… at the time,” Zandik said, looking right at you the whole time with those red eyes of his. “But I suppose I should have expected this. You never do as you are told, do you?”

“Of course not. But you should remember that whenever I break the rules, things turn out fine for us.” You smiled, and you had a feeling both of you were thinking of the same memories. That time you helped him break into the Akademiya’s library when it was closed, or the time you threw a book at someone for him, or the time you two helped each other on what was supposed to be solo assignments. Or the times you ran away from his needles and medicine, or the times you went behind his back and befriended the others. Those times ended out okay, so this time would be okay too.

Then, the building began to rumble, most likely about to collapse. The battle must have been quite fierce. Although the Traveler felt no remorse for the two of you, their kind heart still couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of pity. After all, the blonde had read the notes the two of you left scattered around Sumeru. To think that a relationship could last so long, especially one with the mad Doctor… You noticed their expression before you rasped out a mixture of a plea and demand.

“Why are you still here? Leave us now. I want to be alone with him.” Your words were empty of emotion towards them. There was no point in any hostility anymore, not when you had to treasure the last moments with your beloved. The Traveler didn’t seem surprised by your words, as they nodded and threw the bloodied Harbinger one last glance, before running away with the little fairy. It seemed they knew… you’d rather die here along with him than live without him.

You looked back at Zandik’s face, his once brightly colored red eyes now a darkened hue.

“I’ve failed you, [Name].” Since it was the end of the line now, even a genius scholar such as him had to admit defeat. Dottore thought back to all the times he swore to cure you. He swore he would do it so that you could be who you used to be once more. But he failed. He let you lose centuries of your life and left you in pain for your conscious ones. But you didn’t seem to share the sentiment.

“Failed me?” You couldn’t help but laugh at that, despite the tears that began to run down your cheeks. “Oh darling, you have never failed me. Not once in over four hundred years.” Zandik continued to stare at you because that was all the strength he had to do, so you reached for his hand and brought it to your cheek.

“You’ve loved me continuously for so many centuries, haven’t you? How could that ever be a failure?” You nuzzled into his hand, his own blood beginning to smear on your face, but you didn’t care. 

“Your love has changed so much over time. From your prickly and thorny yet beautiful love from the Akademiya. To your smooth and unabashed love now. But your love was unfaltering, to me at least. Perhaps I may be delusional, and I overthink how much you love me. But I think it was real, even though you may never admit it, that is what matters to me. So if you’re thinking about the cure, forget it.” Your hands were shaking and struggling to hold his to your cheek for this long, energy spent, but you continued anyway, even as a piece of the infrastructure suddenly caved in and collapsed on the opposite side of the room with a loud crash. “The cure isn’t what mattered. It was you.”

Zandik thinks you are the only person who has forgiven him. Not even he has. He knows he does not deserve it, but he shouldn’t say that to you now. But he thinks, even at this moment, perhaps it may seem sick or morbid, your beauty still manages to surpass that of any other being in Teyvat.

You thought about the Tsaritsa, who had shown you much love and kindness. You hoped she would finally achieve her goals. You thought about the other Harbingers, the ones who were still alive at least. You would miss them. You looked at your wedding ring. It was still intact. How lovely. Lastly, you thought about Zandik as you looked at him, and he seemed to realize something.

“[Name], reach into my pocket.” You were confused but you complied, wincing in pain a bit but successfully reached it and pulled out a box. It was the box he kept his wedding wing in. Popping it open, you were correct, and still couldn’t help but be a bit incredulous.

“You brought it with you?” You were surprised because a part of you still believed he thought the whole thing was a bit dumb.

“I normally do not but, with the length of the mission, I believed it would be a simple and easy way to be reminded of you.” That was cute.

“Sorry. I guess the good luck charm didn’t work,” you smiled apologetically as you slipped the band onto his finger, to which Zandik scoffed.

“You know very well I do not believe in luck.” You only laughed, though it was mostly drowned out by multiple crashes and rocks falling all around you. Being buried was a fitting end, to be honest. No one else needed to know about the two of you. No one else needed to know your stories. It would be best if the two of you ended up forgotten, lost to time. Then, no one would be able to misunderstand or twist your relationship.

Despite all of the pains that had befallen you, the suffering and hardships, you could happily say you lived a good life. You were happy, so happy, thanks to Zandik. Zandik was what made this life worth living… so this was okay. You would have loved to have been cured and lived out many more happy memories with him but… this was alright. But the time was limited, so this conversation needed to be wrapped up in a way that would satisfy you.

“I love you, Zandik.” You don’t expect any response back because of your husband’s poor track record with saying those words. 

The times Zandik has said the words ‘I love you’ have admittedly been scarce and in-between despite the centuries he’s spent with you. It was a grand total of… two times. And both had been said when he thought you were sleeping. 

The first time had been in the Akademiya. It had been a while since you two were a couple, and he had yet to say it. You expected that obviously. But one random night, when you two were cuddling and drifting off into dreamland, you heard the three words mumbled into the crook of your neck. It took everything in you not to react.

The second time had been when you had recently woken up from your coma. Dottore was around you constantly, taking so many tests that it made your head spin, and you had to take naps more often than not. And once again, as you were just about to slip off into slumber, you heard the three words whispered as he gently bit your ear.

Surprisingly enough, the third time would be now. Perhaps because he had nothing to lose anymore, as it was the end.

“I love you as well, [Name].” Your eyes go wide for a few seconds before you grin widely one last time, and you give him a look that says ‘I know.’ Zandik watched your eyes flutter shut as you leaned down to his face, and he let himself be enveloped in your final kiss, neither of you paying attention to the shadows cast by the multitude of broken architecture about to fall on top of you.

Let the fairy tale come to a close.

—

“In his last moments, the raven was taken back to a memory from centuries ago. It was a memory where he was truly happy with his lovely sparrow.”

Zandik awoke to a blue sky and a gentle breeze. He blinked, immediately trying to gauge where he was. But then the sound of a familiar voice flooded his senses.

“And you know what this professor had the audacity to say to me, Zandik? ‘Figure it out!’ Like, you’re supposed to be helping me, not writing me off! You’re getting paid for this!” You were lying down on the grass next to him, hands folded as you huffed. “At least I have you, Zandik. Way better than any damn professor.” He blinks at you. 

Zandik remembers this moment. It was the day when exams and classes were finally over, and you wanted to relax before helping him with his experiments. And you also thought it was the perfect time to rant about all the professors you had to deal with over the last few months. But soon, you just started bringing up random things that occurred over the term. Zandik couldn’t remember the last time he saw you like this. Donning the Akademiya uniform, so happy and carefree… healthy, strong, like nothing in the world bothered you.

He found himself slightly smiling at how stupidly happy you looked, before reaching out to you. But as soon as merely his fingernails came into contact with you, you began to dissolve right in front of his eyes. Immediately, he stiffened and sat up, again trying to take hold of you but you were no longer there. Zandik’s hands began to shake, and that’s when he realized his surroundings were changing.

The blue sky was now fading away, becoming pitch black along with everything else that was chipping away, ready to swallow him whole into the darkness.

Ah, he understood now.

This was the end.

—

“Finally, the twisted raven met his fate.”

Or so he thought. Zandik woke up once more. Everything seemed normal at first, the blue sky was once again there and the Sumerian breeze caressed his hair. Until he realized there was a sticky substance coated all over his hands.

Blood.

This wasn’t an unfamiliar occurrence for him, after all, he would usually get hands-on with his experiments, but he had an… odd feeling about this. Zandik blinked and all of a sudden, there you were lying on the ground in front of him.

Dead. Coated with blood.

Did he… kill you?

All too quickly, before he could reach out to hold your body or begin to process what happened, he was suddenly somewhere else. The desert.

Zandik laid eyes upon you. What he would usually see was you complaining about the heat while you dug through the ruins. What he saw instead was an Eremite plunging a sword through you.

And again. This time he awoke to you being completely cold and limp in his arms. And again. It didn’t take his brain long for him to understand what was happening.

His victims and test subjects could torture him for eternity, yet Dottore would not feel bothered or a shred of remorse. It would be a useless endeavor. But this? This was the perfect punishment. 

His beloved being killed in front of him, by the world, by other people, by natural forces, by his own hands. And for all of the power and knowledge he once had, he was powerless to do anything yet again.

… How ironic, Zandik thought.

—

At last, the tiny Archon closed the storybook.

It had been ages since the events in this tale had taken place. The Fatui were no more, Celestia was gone, the Traveler had long left this world, and Teyvat was at peace. So much time, that the Outcast’s name no longer floated around the Akademiya, now long forgotten. The God of Wisdom herself had gained a tremendous amount of knowledge from all the years that had flown by. And even still, she has not forgotten this story.

Yet, in all of her wisdom, she still cannot hope to fully understand the raven and the sparrow. The Dendro Archon found herself coming back to this tale, trying to comprehend their actions and thoughts. She reads it aloud to herself, draws pictures, and crafts the tale with her own words, yet it only leaves her more lost. Perhaps one day she will understand. But perhaps she won’t. Perhaps no one ever will.

After all, there were only two people who would ever truly understand the bond between the raven and the sparrow. 

Zandik and [Name]. 

An unfriendly and cold scholar and a sweet and caring one.

An immoral villain and an accomplice.

A violator of this world’s laws and a supporter.

A Harbinger and an assistant.

Regardless of those titles, perhaps at the end of the day, they only saw themselves as one thing to each other.

Two people who loved each other as if nothing else mattered.