#do they just sit in Crystal's apartment while she's sleeping

[panaceatthedisco]

It's been over a month and I'm still wondering where the boys go/what they do at night

[lvrcpid]

young, dumb and broke - modern!au

includes : reader is gn! use of they/them pronouns. DAD TSU’TEY AGENDA!! most of the kids are 17 with lo’ak being 16 (i had to keep the age gap), i STRUGGLED writing for 14-15 year old freshman. sfw!!

high school with modern!avatar headcannons

lo’ak:

— rizz master

— only messes with tsireya though

— we love a loyal king don’t we ladies

— since y/n can drive, he’s constantly asking them for rides

— “PLEASE Y/N NETEYAM SAID NO-“

— “shut up and get in the car.”

— definitely on the basketball team

— points to tsireya and says “this one’s for you baby” AND MISSES 🤭

— he probably has good grades just is a big class clown. like no seriously his jokes are hilarious even the teachers laugh.

— speaking of teachers all of his teachers love him. he’s really respectful (THANK YOU JAKEY POOH!!)

— he’s so trifling

— def would go around quoting “GIRL WHERE YOU GOING- MMMMWAH!!!”

neteyam:

— tries to be mysterious but fails miserably

— probably one of the popular kids but he’s not a jerk about it

— FOOTBALL CAPTAIN. NO MORE CHITCHAT.

— def makes y/n wear his jersey at his games

— gets sad when you can’t come

— “what do you mean you’re busy 🥺”

— homeboy is SMART im talking straight A’s type smart.

— definitely plans on going D1

— has a smalllllllll (BIG) crush on y/n but he’s too punk to tell them

kiri :

— actually mysterious

— keeps to herself

— definitely has one friend group

— science is definitely her favorite topic

— hates hates HATES school lunch. she gives it away each time

— crystal necklaces all day

— def has a job and bought those expensive ass sony headphones

— her converse game is strong. i’m talking every single color for every single outfit

— hangs in the bathroom with her friends

— along with her brothers, her teachers love her

ao’nung:

— RIZZ MASTER.

— seriously his rizz with y/n makes them fold all the time.

— basketball captain anyone??

— probably drives to school

— C average in his classes , he’s just lazy

— “y/n are you coming to my game?”

— “WHAT DO YOU MEAN NETEYAM HAS A GAME- FUCK HIM-“

— as you can see he also gets upset when you can’t come to his games

— probably has a few fights on his record

— always messing with your hair in class

— you look at him like this 😡 while he’s over there like 😈

— always leaving campus to get food (he gets you some so it’s no biggie)

— brags to neteyam that you came to his practice

— “HAHA THEY CAME TO MINE AND NOT YOURS”

— also has a big crush on y/n and it’s obvious, you just choose to play dumb

tsireya :

— class president. argue with the wall.

— Y/N’S BEST FRIENDDDDD

— her brothers wingwoman fr

— probably is in a dance club after school

— tutors people in her free time (side hustle queen)

— probably also drives to school but just rides with her brother to save gas

— probably wears outfits inspired by clueless

— hands lo’ak his water bottle after practice

— she’s such a sweetheart

— she invites a girl who was alone at a table to sit with her and her friends

y/n:

— Y2K KING/QUEEN

— no literally your style is to die for

— definitely sleeping all the time but still manages to get good grades

— your dad is apart of the pta. along with tonowari and jake. PTA DADS!!

— you probably wear lots of bracelets.

— you give them away as your way of flirting

— (neteyam and ao’nung definitely have a few of them on their wrists)

— chilling with kiri and tsireya in the bathrooms

— going home and immediately going to sleep.

— probably getting written up a few times for walking out of class

— your parents weren’t happy about this :/

bonus!

tuk:

— our girl definitely rocks the newest light up sneakers

— “my mommy got me these” *stomps foot on the playground*

— gets her teachers gifts for holidays

— has a fruit by the foot for lunch all the time

— her lunch box is definitely all sparkling

— MONKEY BARS MASTER.

— probably went to the nurse a few times cause her pride got the best of her and she fell

— definitely not the type to fake sick. she loves seeing her friends

— she’s the leader of her friend group but she’s not mean (neteyam DUPE!!)

— neytiri could send her to school with her hair one way and itll come back looking a MESS.

— at least she had fun!!

TAGLIST: @zatarias-pandora

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #11

Starting with Weird Science.

TWO people named Grey participated in this show?

Cosmo: Ooh, what a tasty-looking dinner! I love potatoes! Me: Cosmo, aren't you allergic to potato skins? Cosmo: /eats the lightbulb. Me: ... Carry on.

Really cool hallway angle! Also:

angry.

Those dance and voting posters have been up for quite a while, which seems unusual for a school. Did we really skip several weeks forward in time with Episode 3, then everything is crammed in tight after that? Where's that dang moon? I need it.

Seriously, Sneezy Hawkins dance has been up since Hazel arrived, and it's been many weeks since then.

Cosmo and Wanda altering the laws of science in order to make her science project work is hilarious. Of course they would.

How many music rooms does 1 school need?

Hazel's class is near the entrance of school, 2nd floor. If you look at the school's front, she's on the right-hand side.

JORGEN'S BACK!! Time to wreck Hazel for altering physics.

Basically Hazel, with no sense of self-preservation: Jorgen, I tried using magic to cheat a competition. Jorgen internally: I'm very mad and also disappointed.

Dev is the grumpiest little meditator. Doesn't even chant, smh. Why does his bag say "Mediocre," are we gonna talk about that?

Hazel's parents are so caring.

Mystery She Wished

Oh, noir? I was just thinking about noir earlier toda- WANING CRESCENT!

Hazel and her dad watching movies together is cute. She likes scary movies and he likes the paranormal- They're a perfect pair.

"I have to charge my ghost crystals" okay Dad.

Cracking up at Hazel interviewing Wanda for her mystery. Big "Where's Wanda?" vibes.

I was sitting here like "Why is she asking Wanda?" and then I was like "Oh yeah, she still lives here. She lives across the hall. She pays rent." I like that Hazel thinks she's on bad terms with the landlady.

I said in Post 10 that I was sad we hadn't seen more of Cosmo and Wanda's life in the apartment because I felt like we were missing opportunities to engage with the environment (and see them struggling to be human). This is exactly what I wanted.

Cosmo: Unless... I did it and framed Wanda?

Okay, now you're just being meta. I was gonna not tell readers that you're responsible for Wanda's disappearance in "Where's Wanda?" and that's why it's funny Hazel's interviewing you two, but... that's WAY funny they put that in there.

Those are some... weird stares. Why do they look different than the other characters? Is it the eyes? Also, this guy sounds like Daran Norris.

I like how Cosmo and Wanda still have their crowns while in pencil and notepad disguise.

Hazel talking about how she had to sleep to recover from the mystery "and also because I'm 10 and can't set my own bedtime."

Hazel is being so weird to this poor kid. That's her first introduction to him; that's hilarious. He's probably a twin since he doesn't recognize her on their second conversation.

OG series Elvis? MARK CHANG??

Hazel's parents: We're going to dinner with the new family. Hazel: They're cannibals and I'm gonna die.

/staring intensely: "We always follow social norms and blend in! :)" What the heck is wrong with this guy? These two are totally aliens. Is that why Mark's picture was on the conspiracy board?

I like how Hazel's stuck in mystery mode until she solves the mystery because she wished to be like SDFKJSDFISOKJD OH NO-

Okay. She wished to be like the detectives on TV, who didn't use magic to solve their mysteries, and I should really pause before typing, but in my mind I was like "There's literally no way they're going to put an Easter egg in this pantry."

... Oh. I 100% thought I spotted the aliens from "So Totally Spaced Out" who were defeated by eating them, but upon rewinding and pausing, that looks like a regular rabbit.

Now I'm disappointed.

Twins! I was right. Also, this is a really dark episode for a show that still, this many episodes in, refuses to give me the child abuse I'm craving.

This is how normal people eat with guests.

... The twist is that they're doomsday preppers? I thought that was obvious? They said they were preparing for the end of the world and they were stockpiling supplies for that. Maybe I'm too old for this episode- I didn't know that was unclear to Hazel sdfklj. The plot twist at the end is still going to be they're aliens, I'm sure of it.

(It was not; there was no twist, although the parents did dump all their food on the ground. I fear we will never know who was there.)

Prime Meridian Love

Hazel's into both manga and anime! Nice. We might've heard about the manga earlier, but I forgot.

Jasmine: Don't tell us the whole story! I want to be surprised when I read it. Me, liveblogging: Uh-oh.

Finally a school dance after all those posters since Episode 1! ... Not the same dance! I'm dying inside.

She's totally gonna wish her manga fish crush into reality. Question is... Are we about to get a "can't wish away true love" plot, or totally different drama?

omfg, he's dying because he's a fish. That's not the direction I thought this was going. I could've sworn his wall poster depicts him on a cliff? I'll have to review when we're back in her room.

Kennueth: I will not fall for your siren song >:(

Whoops. Also, confirmation that humans can't know about magic!

Oh no, he's going to be obsessed with his own book and try to see the ending? Is that it? ...... No? Hm. I guess he's fine with it.

I don't have anything to say about this screenshot, but it should be appreciated.

FAIRY WORLD! ... I don't love that we're skipping straight to it? And now we're montaging through it? This is her second onscreen time and her first was at the dreary DMV, assuming I'm watching in the correct order. We don't get to see her being wowed? I'm kinda disappointed.

Oh, we're back in her room. That makes me sad. Also... I guess it's more common for 10-year-olds to have crushes than I thought, considering Timmy had one too. I should really look this up.

-> Oh, it is. Maybe I need to re-tune my allo characters; I always assumed crushes come with puberty, but apparently not.

Oh boy, Dev's about to be annihilated by a tall fish guy. I enjoy his expressions and tiny hands. Also, I really like how we sometimes get to see his eyes over his glasses since we didn't get that with the Pixies.

He looks like he's wearing the necklace from the manga. Is he a fan of the series and is he going to attend Hazel's book club since her friends couldn't? Finally friend?? (I doubt it).

Oh wait, maybe he will.

Hazel: ?? Are you a Super Meridian-head? :) Dev at a school dance:

"Get off my back about it!!" okay, goof.

I like how Kennueth described Dev's robotic companions as "metallic birds."

sldkfjsdljf, hang on, pause pause pause. Is Kennueth spoiling plot points Hazel doesn't know about and we're going to loop back to how her friends didn't enjoy her spoiling the manga? That's great!

Wanda dog-ears books... Good to know. I'm glad she's still implied to be a terrible librarian. Cosmo won't even share his books.

Hazel: Our friendship is more important than any book club! Me, who saw Mikey Munroe weasel a speedboat out of Bunsen with very similar words: Are we being for real right now?

sdlkfj, Hazel hitting him with the "I think we work best just as friends. I'm only 10." Okay, that's hilarious.

Hazel did not get upset about spoilers and Dev did not come to book club :(

Hey, this is related to nothing as I get my snack, but what was Poof doing during his parents' 10k-year vacation? I assume he went with them. He was in boarding school during Season 10 and maybe he still is, but... hm. Where's my boy? I know he's still canon; his picture's in Episode 1.

I'm gettin' nervous. -> Me, unfortunately didn't get more than 3 episodes into "Fairly Odder" and doesn't know if he showed up there.

Okay, but... Cosmo and Wanda wouldn't leave behind their son who's faced multiple kidnapping attempts, including from Jorgen: the man who wanted to yoink Poof and not let him visit his parents for centuries... right?

They wouldn't take their son away from Timmy, the brother he grew up with, and then ALSO ditch their son. Right?

Please tell me we're not going to get Poof with issues. I know I was confused in Liveblog 10 about the lack of child trauma in this show, but I didn't mean him.

-> Has given Aged-Up Poof more issues than literally any other character in my fanfics.

[souls-page]

Page 33

“Why do you wish to find out when you die?” Edwin asked Niko, letting himself ask, not because it had been lingering too long in his head, but because it was far simpler just to ask Niko, everything was simpler with her, easier.

Her head rested on his shoulder, her hand holding his arm, he wondered if she could actually feel him, because as much as he wanted to feel her he couldn’t, he felt her weight, and felt her hold on him tighten before softening again, but he doesn’t feel her warmth that he knows she has

“Because I just want to” Niko replied, simple straightforward, he glanced down at her before looking straight ahead again, resting his head on hers, hoping that she could feel him, that him being here brought her comfort,

“I don't really know what I would do if I actually found out when I’d die, but I think it would bring me some comfort to know when” She said, voice soft, somehow even when the topic was heavy, she could find a way to make it feel like it isn’t, he’s thankful for her of that, never once has he said anything he didn’t want to, never once had it been hard for him to say anything to her

Never with her

“That's odd, most people don’t seek out when they die” He said

“Well, I’m not most people” She replied a smile on her lips, tone soft but fond

“No, no you aren’t” He agreed, a small smile on his face before letting the silence stretch, as they both dangled their feet on the edge of the building, letting the wind pass by them, one feeling the coldness of the wind more than the other

The memory is slightly blurred now, two weeks have passed, and somehow it’s still not fully clicking in his head, He still somehow expects Niko to show up at the agency,

This is not possible considering they never told her where it is, but somehow he just does, he expects her to just show up, with that smile of hers

And on nights like these when they aren’t as busy, on when Crystal is asleep in her apartment and he and Charles are left alone in the room with Charlie being out, He can’t help but think of her, and he knows that Charles knows what he’s thinking

Niko’s books are put on the shelves nearest to the desk, at arm's length for Edwin, and on nights like these he doesn’t know whether he’s thankful to see them there, or saddened by the reminder that they offer

But on nights like these, he’ll always reach out and take one of them, and Charles's presence helps, he talks and sits near him, when he’s sitting at the desk or beckons Edwin over to the couch

Sometimes they both read, sometimes Edwin reads while Charles is just there and sometimes Edwin just reads to Charles, and it helps.

Sometimes more than others, the presence of someone while dealing with the loss of another. In hindsight it's weird, he’d never truly gotten this attached to someone else before, no one other than Charles, but now there's Niko, but Niko’s gone.

He closes the book after realizing that Charles has gone to sleep, they never needed it but he always chooses to do so, he looks so peaceful lying down on their couch, and he can’t help but think about when Charles died

He choose to stay with Edwin, but he can’t help but think about how the past thirty years would’ve been if he didn’t. He sighs and shakes his head, too many emotions for today, he sets the book down somewhere near, and for once he closes his eyes letting the quiet lull of the night lead him to sleep.

[sagesolsticewrites]

Sleepy for Ruthie & scrunch for Juliet 🫶

oh gosh well this request has been sitting in my inbox for like a month but I finally finished it! So so sorry for the delay, darling Nonnie, and thank you so much for your patience!

kiss prompts

[ sleepy ] for a half-awake kiss - Ruthie x Benny

The door of Benny’s apartment swings open to reveal an exhausted but smiling Ruthie, blush pink Pyrex in her hands.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Benny beams, stepping aside to let her in.

“Hi,” she says, shifting up onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek as she passes, “Long time no see.”

“I know, it’s been forever,” he laughs, knowing full well she was here just last week, “What’d you bring this time?”

“Samosas,” she beams, gesturing excitedly with the Pyrex, and Benny smiles, though it doesn’t escape his notice that there’s something slightly less cheerful about her demeanor today.

“How are things at the hotel?” He asks in what he hopes is a casual manner, following her into the kitchen, “You said a while ago that business wasn’t great, is it getting better?”

“You remembered?” Ruthie pauses as she removes a pastry, in the middle of moving it to a plate.

“Of course,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Ruthie ducks her chin in an attempt to hide her growing smile, busying herself with plating another samosa.

“It’s actually gotten really busy,” she says happily, “I… don’t really remember the last time I slept? I’ve been doing laundry and making beds and cleaning practically all the time to try to keep up with the guests, but if it means business is good and my parents have one less thing to worry about, then…” she trails off with a shrug.

Now that she’s said it, Benny can see tiredness etched into every line of her face, the poorly hidden dark purple bags under her eyes now crystal clear even through her ever cheerful smile.

“And you still came here?” He asks, frowning slightly as he steps closer to scan over her face.

“Of course,” her brow furrows, “I wanted to see you, and how can I keep up with my lessons if I skip a week, hm? Besides,” she says through a yawn that utterly destroys the point she’s trying to make, “I’m not that tired, I promise.”

“Sweetheart— Ruthie, look at me honey, please?”

Ruthie looks up from where she’s sweeping crumbs off the counter, still very much in cleaning mode, as Benny takes her hand and guides her to the living room.

“We’re gonna skip the lesson today.”

“Wait, what?”

Ruthie frowns. She’d been practicing her Italian all week to keep it fresh in her mind for today— she’d made very good progress since Benny had offered to teach her more than the simple phrases Val had taught her in a rushed, impromptu lesson, and she wanted to keep improving.

“Vika,” Benny sighs, thumb stroking gently along the back of her hand as they sit, “You need rest, honey. Lesson for today? Vai a dormire.”

“Vai…” Furrows appear in Ruthie’s forehead, adorable as always, as she tries to translate.

Benny brushes a kiss to her forehead, wonders if she knows he can feel how much she’s leaning on him, if she’s aware of how heavy-lidded her eyes are.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.” He murmurs, moving to kneel beside the sofa and shifting a pillow under her head as she lays down despite her protests.

“Benny—” she mumbles, stubborn even when she’s half asleep.

He leans in, silencing her tired protests with a gentle kiss, “I promise I’ll wake you when it’s time for you to go home.”

Finally, finally, she relaxes, eyes closing as she gives his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Th’nk you, Benny.”

“Dormi bene, sweetheart.”

[ scrunch ] for a kiss on the nose - Juliet x Brady

“Honey, are you almost ready?” Juliet calls from her vanity, checking that the Victory Red on her lips is still immaculate before slipping into her heels.

“Ready, sweetheart,” John says from behind her, and the sight of him in the mirror has her beaming before she turns to look at him properly.

John Brady stands there beaming in one of his nicer suits, ready for the first proper date night they’ve had since their daughter was born.

“Oh, Johnny,” she breathes, standing to get a better look, her hand coming to rest gently on his chest, “You look very handsome, darling.”

He always did, of course, but the suit was a welcome change from the usual somewhat creased button downs he wore, as was the neatly combed hair from the usual rumpled brown waves (caused by a certain six-month-old finding endless fascination with her father’s hair).

“And you,” her husband smiles, arms winding around her waist, “Look as beautiful as ever, Mrs. Brady.”

Even after over a year of marriage, a thrill still runs through her at both the compliment and the use of her married name.

Smiling, Juliet leans up for a kiss, but John pulls back slightly.

“I don’t think I can bring myself to mess this up just yet,” he says, eyes soft as his thumb traces along the edge of her red-painted lip, “So I think I’ll just…”

He leans in and pecks her nose, eliciting a delighted giggle from his wife.

“As sweet as that was,” Juliet teases with a raised eyebrow before her eyes turn pleading, “Please kiss me properly, John Brady.”

Captain John Brady — who once threatened to “smash the living shit” out of the pilot who was taking up his slot in a formation while in the air with no regard for the very expensive planes that would be damaged by this action — is helpless against his wife’s doe eyes.

Grinning, he leans down to press his lips tenderly to hers, his heart going soft at the sigh that escapes her as he pulls away.

“Better?”

“Much,” she grins, thumb swiping over his lips to rub away the Victory Red that transferred from her own, “Shall we?”

They step out to the living room, greeted with the sight of Rosie Rosenthal playing with his newest niece.

“Thank you so much again, Rosie,” Juliet smiles, “We really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” Rosie grins, “You know I’ll never pass up a chance to hang out with this little peanut.”

Little Olivia lets out a delighted giggle as her Uncle Rosie tickles her, reaching for his pomaded curls.

“Wait, no, not the hair—”

Once he’s disentangled Olivia’s tiny fingers from his hair, he lifts her into his arms with an ease that comes from months of practice with Little Croz.

“Say bye to Mommy and Daddy, peanut!” Rosie lifts her little hand to wave at them as the Bradys make their way into the foyer.

“We should be back around 10,” Jules calls as John attempts to herd her out the door, “And don’t hesitate to call us if you need to!”

“Or your mother!” John calls with a grin from his place by the car door.

“I’ve gotten better, I swear!” Rosie replies, playfully exasperated, “Have fun, you two.”

“You too, Rosie,” John grins at the same time as Juliet says “Be good for your uncle, Livvy!”

The couple says their final goodbyes and heads out, John Brady leaning over at a red light to press a kiss to his wife’s nose.

“What was that for?” Juliet laughs.

Her husband smiles and shrugs, turning his attention to the road as the light changes.

“Just because.”

[final-girl96]

Broken World: Chapter Five

The Quarry

We slowly drove up the winding dirt road that led back to the quarry. In the distance, you could see a crystal clear blue lake. It was so beautiful and looked so peaceful. It was almost like the world wasn't falling apart, the dead pouring from its seams, ripping and tearing to get out so they could grab any living thing with their decaying hands and rip their rotting teeth into its flesh.

Shortly after, as we grew closer and closer to the camp that sat just up on the hill from the lake, an RV came into view. An umbrella sat over a folding chair, and that chair sat the speck of a person, who slowly started to stand. The closer we got, the more I could see. There were a few cars parked behind the RV, tents scattered around in a little tent city. A couple of places had fire pits, one for cooking, one for the group to sit around. A separate firepit sat separate from the others a little ways.

People started to gather as Glenn came to a stop. An older man with a white beard and a bucket hat stood in the front with two blonde women off to the side. On his other side stood a man with dark hair wearing a gray tee shirt with some kind of symbol on the left breast. A dark-haired woman with a small boy standing behind her stood not far from him. "They're all nice people. You'll fit in just fine," Glenn said before getting out of the car. The hair haired man and the man with the white beard walked over to him.

I sighed, looking down at my lap. My badge hung from a chain around my neck. The only time I ever took it off was when I would clean up and go to sleep. It was somewhat of a security blanket for me, I suppose. It was something that told me I was going to be okay and I could survive this mess. But it was also a reminder of the reason I didn't have the one person I wished was by my side. I had to remind myself that I worked hard to get this badge and Daryl Dixon could go fuck himself.

I looked back up to see the dark haired man pointing at me. Glenn turned around and gave me a small smile, nodding his head to come over and meet everyone. I took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped out into the Georgia heat. I walked over beside Glenn and looked at the dark-haired man in front of me. He looked down at my badge and then back up at me. "You're a cop?" He asked. I looked at the symbol on his shirt. It was for a police department in Kings County.

"I was a detective," I said. He nodded his head. "I'm Officer Shane Walsh," he held out his hand and I shook it. "YN Stone. I hope you don't mind Glenn bringing me back with him. I did bring some guns and ammo, along with some food and water." The man with the white beard came to stand in front of me and shook my hand. "I'm Dale. You're more than welcome." His soft smile helped put me a ease. He seemed like he was the reason of the group. The person who gave purpose and hope to everyone.

Dale introduced me to everyone, Andrea and Amy, who were sisters. The Morales family, Sophia and Carol, and Carol's husband Ed, whom I got a bad vibe from. Jim, Jacquie, and T-Dog. A few others in the camp and then finally Lori and her son Carl. I learned Lori's husband and Shane's best friend were also a cop. He had been shot a few weeks before everything happened and was in a comma went shit went down. Shane tried to go back for him, but there was nothing he could do with all the machines he was hooked to, and then the hospital was bombed.

They had an extra tent available for me to use, which I was grateful for. I looked around while I helped unpack the supplie Glenn and I brought back. I noticed a truck that looked oddly familiar, but I just shook my head and put it out of my mind. There were apparently two other people, but they were out hunting for the group. That night, we sat around the fire and exchanged stories, and I was asked a lot of questions.

"So you were a detective?" Andrea asked. I learned that she was a civil rights lawyer before the outbreak. I nodded my head, "Yes. I was a homicide detective," I said. "You're kind of young, aren't you?" She asked. I chuckled and looked down at my lap. "Um…yeah, I'm only twenty-six. I had to work really hard to get where I was. But it was a dream of mine, and I wasn't going to stop until I made it happen." After a while, everyone went to bed, and Shane climbed on top of the rv to keep watch.

I lay on the cot in my tent, staring up at the canvas ceiling. It's been a while since I had any kind of interaction with people. It felt nice not to be alone. I was so grateful that Glenn showed up. Everyone here seemed super nice. Well, apart from Ed, Carol's husband. Carol is a sweet woman but very timid. One look at Ed told me he wasn't a good man. I could also sense secrets in the group. Especially between Shane and Lori.

I shook my head to clear my mind. My fingers curled around my badge, and I closed my eyes. I don't know how long I laid there like that, but eventually, I fell asleep. It wasn't a deep sleep, I've never been one to sleep too deeply. I was a light sleeper and woke up at any nose I heard. It was going to take some time getting used to sleeping in a tent outside so close to the woods.

I know they said that walkers don't come up this way, but one day, they'll run out of food in the city and start looking for more elsewhere. I tossed and turned on my cot for a couple hours, trying to get some kind of sleep, and when I failed, I sat up and left the tent. The air was a lot cooler now that it was dark. But by the time the sun came up, it would be warm again and only get warmer as the day went on.

I looked over at the RV to now see Dale sitting in the chair on top of it. I slowly walked over and climbed the ladder on the back of the rv, climbing to the top. "Mind if I join you? I couldn't sleep," I whispered, not wanting to wake anyone sleeping inside. He gave me a soft, kind smile and nodded his head. I walked over and sat near him. I dangled my legs over the side of the rv and looked out over the lake. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I hummed in response. "It really is. I don't think I've ever seen such blue water before," I said. We sat in a comfortable silence until the sun started to come up.

[xfangheartx]

How I would go about Full Moon and Apology Tour.

Since I can't seem to get it out of my head, I just thought I'd share my take on how Full Moon and Apology Tour would go.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT! Enjoy.

Instead of Stolas just springing the crystal on Blitzø, he calls him in advance and tells him that they don't have to have their usual "transactions". Instead, he tells him that he wants to trade the grimoire for a present he got him.

When Blitzø gets there and gets the Asmodean Crystal and Stolas confesses his feelings for him, Blitzø thanks him for the gift, but tells him he needs time to think about things first.

Blitzø is left feeling confused and miserable, so Fizz decides to take him out so he can blow off some steam. Blitzø ends up meeting a cute incubus guy (not the "Better Than Blitzo" Guy who I have affectionately named Brian), and at first, things are fun, but then, as they're getting in bed, Blitzø realizes that he can't sleep with him with Stolas on his mind...and even worse, his self-hate issues start coming out again.

Blitzø ultimately calls Stolas and tells him that he does love him, but he can't be with him because of that.

Stolas is confused and heartbroken by this, and Blitzø, unfortunately, doesn't explain things any further.

Taking this as a sign that they're broken up, Stolas decides to go to Verosika's party if only to get back at Blitzø.

Of course, Blitzø goes there when he finds out about the party, but instead of trying to make Stolas leave, he just quietly follows him around in disguise.

When he hears Stolas sing about him, Blitzø realizes that he really needs to work on himself before he can even think of being with Stolas at all.

Verosika spots Blitzø, who tells her that he's genuinely sorry and explains to her that if he can't love himself, how is he supposed to love anybody?

Verosika realizes that Blitzø really means to change and she decides to wish him luck when he reveals that he's going to be getting some professional help.

As he sadly watches Stolas dance with Brian, he quietly hopes that he'll be happy before he leaves.

As for Stolas, he and Brian decide to go upstairs and have a little fun of their own, but just as they're about to, Stolas starts crying as he realizes that he can't do it because Brian isn't the same as Blitzø, someone who Stolas knows.

He goes out and starts crying on the stairs, and as Verosika sits with him, Stolas explains that he just wanted Blitzø to fall in love with him after he got him the crystal. Instead, what he got was even more strife and heartache and he was tired of it.

However, when he starts listing off all the times he called Blitzø all those pet names, Verosika realizes that Stolas had messed up, as well, making him realize that while he hadn't intended to, he hurt Blitzø just as much as Blitzø had hurt him.

It hits Stolas that he also needs to change how he acts. It's not enough that he and Blitzø have decided not to make every meeting they have about having sex. They have to work on themselves before they can even begin to have a true relationship.

Not just that, but Stolas also needs to change the way he treats imps and lesser demons in general, or else Blitzø will think that he's not even trying when he is.

For now, they decide to stay apart and heal until they feel ready, even if it takes a while.

[jazziwritesthings]

Connected Part 2

This is purely a work of fiction.

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader, Reader x ot8 Platonic

Word Count: 1,893

Warnings: No warnings. Angst and Fluff.

*************

The door flung open and Chan lifted his head to make eye contact with the person storming into his room, “Hey Min.” There wasn’t much Chan could do before Seungmin was standing over him with anger and frustration written all over his adorable features. “What the hell happened?!” 

This question left Chan confused, “ What do you mean?” Taking his time to sit up on his bed he patted the space next to himself indicating for Seungmin to sit beside him. The younger boy did not move from his spot. “Y/n has been avoiding me for two weeks now and you were the last person to talk to her before she rushed out on us when we were out for her birthday.” Chan nodded as he listened to the younger boy. “It’s not really my place to tell you. Min.” Seungmin groaned as he flopped onto Chan’s bed. He started ranting about how he just missed his best friend, becoming so frustrated that tears formed in his eyes and his sadness was evident in his voice. Chan slowly reached out and rubbed a soothing hand up and down Seungmin’s back. Slowly his breath evened out and Chan realized Min had fallen asleep. He gently picked Min up and walked across the hall to the apartment where Min lived. Walking in, Lino spotted the pair and shot Chan questioning eyes. Chan walked past him and into Min’s room before setting him gently on his bed and taking off his shoes and tucking him in. He gently closed the door before walking into the living area and plopping down next to Lino on the couch. All it took was for Lino to turn to Chan for him to spill. “He’s super upset because Y/n has been ignoring him and it’s all my fault.” Lino's eyes grew confused, “ What do you mean by, it’s all your fault?” Chan dropped his head and placed his hand gently on the handprints that splayed across his chest. He didn’t have to say anything. It all became crystal clear. “She’s your soulmate?” He needed to hear the confirmation from his best friend. Chan just nodded his head, too tired for words. Without too much thought Lino got up and started putting on his shoes. “Where are you going?” Chan slowly lifted and turned his head to where Lino now stood.  “I’m going to fix this mess.” Without another word Lino left the apartment and made his way to yours. 

*****

You were brought out of your sleep by an incessant knocking on your door. Groaning you slowly rolled out of bed, grabbing your phone and seeing it was nearing 1am. There were only a handful of people who would be here at this time. Trudging to the door you pulled it open to see Lino. Letting go of the door and turning around you walked to the couch and sat while Lino made his way in and closed the door. He turned and looked at you. You were a mess if you were being honest. “ You look like shit.” you let out a small laugh, “Thanks.” He sat down beside you. You leaned back and rested against his side, your head on his collarbone. “What's been going on?” he prompts from you as he absentmindedly draws shapes on your opposite shoulder. You huffed and closed your eyes. “My brain is fighting me.” You let out, barely above a whisper. But due to the quiet nature of your apartment he heard it loud and clear. “Care to explain?” Resituating yourself so you could look at him he saw an unfamiliar look in your eyes. “Chris is my soulmate.” He nodded. While moving to grab your hands from your lap. He began playing with your fingers. “He told you right?” He nodded while focusing on your hands. “Is that what's causing you to ignore all of us?” You groaned letting yourself relax as he held your hands in his. “ I don't mean to.”  He nodded, prompting you to go on. “ All I could think about as a teenager was the possibility of having a soulmate. Then when it happened I was so excited. I guess I just didn’t expect to find them so soon, and I definitely wasn’t expecting it to be one of my best friends.” He looked up at your face, noticing your tears. Dropping your hands he reached up and wiped them away with his thumbs, “ That's not all of it.” You shook your head feeling the tears falling faster. “ I had never even thought of my soulmate being an idol. I get enough shit from people just for being friends with you guys. I don’t think I can handle what comes with being with an idol.” He gently pulls you into his lap as you bury your face in his shoulder letting the sobs wrack your body. 

It took a little while but eventually you calmed down enough to say, “I don’t know what to do.” He nodded and continued to rub your back. “I don’t completely understand the whole soulmate thing, given I haven't found mine yet. But you know Chan as well as I do.” This caused you to nod and lean back until you could look him in the face, “I do. And that's how I know he deserves so much better.” You noticed the shift in his face immediately, reading only anger, “Lino.” He shook his head at you, his face beginning to redden, “Any man would be lucky to have you. Do you understand?” You just frowned at him causing him to go on, “Y/n, you are amazing! If anything, Chan doesn’t deserve you! Do you get how much we all love you? How funny you are or how sweet you can be? You're so thoughtful it’s irritating!” This caused you to laugh a little, “There she is.” He pulled you into a tight hug, “Please don’t ignore us anymore.” You nodded as he moved you onto the couch, “Call Min in the morning. Please.” You nodded as he walked to the door and pulled on his shoes. He nodded once at you before opening the door and leaving. You got up from the couch and wandered back to your bed, climbing under the covers. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and sent a quick text, “Call me when you see this.” Before easily falling back to sleep. 

*****

Your eyes scanned the cafe until they landed on your best friend. He was oblivious to the fact that you walked in so you made your way over to the table he was sitting at. He only looked at you once you sat down. It caused a grin to erupt on his face. “Hey Min.” He gently nudged a drink towards you. Smiling, you thank him as you take a sip of your favorite. “Nuna, are you mad at me? Did one of the guys do something?” you shook your head and reached across the table to grab his hand. He let you play with his fingers as you thought of the best way to say it. “I found my soulmate Min.” His smile got even bigger, if that was possible, “What?! Well, who is it?” You stared down at the table and took a deep breath, “It’s Chirs.” His smile faltered a little, “Wait, like Channie Hyung?” You nodded your head as his hand retracted from yours. “Min?” He had a look on his face that you couldn’t place. “Okay.” it sounded more like he was talking to himself then to you, “Okay? So we’re okay?” He nodded looking into your eyes, “We’re always okay. I can’t live without you, y’know?” You nodded and smiled, “Right back at you.” He kept staring at you, “But you aren’t.” Min could read you like a book, and it was something you were grateful for. “I don’t know. I guess I should talk to him.” Min nods, “You wanna come with me?” You nodded as you stood.

*****

You stood outside of the 3Racha dorm with Min behind you. You knocked. Which you felt stupid for after you did it, deciding to let yourself in. Min waved as you closed the door. Bin looked up from his spot, “Y/n!” He stood up and made his way to hug you, “What’s up?” You released his hug, “Chris here?” He nodded and pointed towards the hall. Making your way to his room you knocked on the door, “yeah?” His voice came from inside. “Chris? It’s Y/n.” You heard noise from inside before the door opened, “Hey!” He motioned for you to come in and closed the door behind you. He sat down on his bed and gestured to his desk chair. You sat down pulling the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands and sitting cross legged. It was quiet for a few minutes while neither of you said anything. “I’m sorry.” You blurted out. A look of surprise took over his features, “What do you have to be sorry for?” Looking at the floor you gestured between the two0 of you. “You mean the soulmate thing?” You nodded before his hands grabbed the armrests and pulled the chair until you were sitting directly in front of him. “Y/n. It’s not like you made us soulmates. Plus, there's no reason to be sorry for that.” You had no choice but to look into his eyes. “I’m scared.” He dropped his hand into your lap gently grabbing at yours. It was a habit all the guys knew you had. You always focused and felt more grounded when you had something to do with your hands. Only this time it caused you to burst into tears, “I don’t deserve you.” You uttered through your sobs. Without thinking he grabbed your legs and pulled you into his lap. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. “Y/n, if anything, I don’t deserve you. You are the sweetest most selfless person I know. Even now you're upset that I didn’t get to choose my soulmate.” He gave you a gentle squeeze before pulling away a bit to be able to see your face. “If you want my opinion. I think I got incredibly lucky in the soulmate department. I couldn’t ask for anyone better. Besides, you’re already one of my best friends. I’d be lost without you.” You were staring at him not believing any of the words he was saying. You shook your head as a hiccup startled you both. He gently grabbed your face with both his hands forcing you to look into his eyes. “Have I ever lied to you?” This caused you to shake your head no. “Then why do you think I’m lying right now?” You couldn’t form a thought with his hands still on your face, so you just shrugged. “Y/n. I’m going to wait for you, okay? You can take as long as you want until you think I deserve you, but I’m going to wait for you. I will always choose you; do you understand?” Nodding again he pulled you into a hug, “Don’t go disappearing on us like that again.” You wrapped your arms around him, relishing in the comfort he provides, “I won’t. I promise.” 

A/N: If you read it, please tell me what you think. Also, more?

[oldestenemy]

“Concerned for my safety.” The wizard echoes, fingers tightening around the spyglass they’ve been using in place of a wand for the past year. “Where was your concern for my safety when you sent me off to fight a war singlehanded and alone?” Their tone is soft. Conversational. Merle Ambrose does not flinch.

“Please, tell me what happened, do not spare a single detail.”

And they don’t.

They weave the felling of the shadow palace as it ought to be weaved, in darkness and blood and discarded web. In unmade worlds and the snapping of tree roots. In opponents twice their size, half their skill, in winning through bared teeth and broken skin.

They do, in fact, spare Ambrose a single detail.

They do not tell him about their request to Raven.

They do not tell him how it felt to watch the shapeless winds of the void between worlds tear Morganthe apart.

She had been his apprentice, once upon a time.

The wizard can offer him that one, singular kindness.

If nothing else.

“This news of Old Cob is troubling, but we shall just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings. New adventures for us all, yes?”

“Am I free to go?” They do not hide the chill or bitterness in the words. “It’s over.”

Merle Ambrose does not flinch.

“Yes, yes you may go, please get some rest. You have earned it.”

~*~

The wizard does not get some rest.

“Professor Drake?”

It’s off hours.

Cyrus Drake is in the Myth tower, where they had once dueled him, years ago now—before they were sent to the heat and tragedy that was Dragonspyre.

“I was not informed of your return.” It’s formal, it always is, but the wizard manages a half smile. “I am pleased to see you have made it back predominantly unharmed.”

“Are you free?”

“I am.”

“Can I show you something?” Cyrus’ lip curls in a way that the wizard recognizes, and they correct themself before he can patronize them. “May I show you something?”

Words are important in Myth magic. To nobody more than Cyrus Drake, who seemed too often to wonder if things would be different, had he only found the right words.

“Are you meant to be resting?”

“I am always meant to be resting or fighting. This is as close to rest as I’m going to get for a while.” They respond, allowing the hollow tone to take over their voice. Allowing the empty spaces where they had freshly leeched magic show. “Once we’re there, we can sit, I’ll drink tea, pretend I’m doing well.”

The wizard takes Cyrus to their castle. The myth castle. The castle sitting atop a cyclops that might be alive and might not be. The one crawling with automatons and unicorns and every wayward sprite they’ve ever picked up. Where the small green dragon they’d tamed in Avalon sleeps by the river when they do not ride it. Where they host the trophies of the times when victory tasted sweet and real.

The castle that houses Malistaire’s memorial.

Cyrus doesn’t ask why they made it.

Doesn’t balk at it.

Does run his hand along the edge of the stone, and the carved relief of Malistaire and Sylvia.

“When did you make this?”

“After,” The wizard says softly, “just after—you sent me to the dorms and, well I ran to Northguard, I couldn’t rest, couldn’t stop—”

“—I understand.”

They sit together.

They drink Hespermint tea and listen to the breathing of the cyclops above.

Eventually, the wizard has calmed their nerves enough to voice the thing that is weighing on them.

“I don’t want one for her.” They say softly, staring at the memorial, at the fresh flowers, the crystals bursting from the earth. “I wanted her dead. I wanted to hurt her. It’s—I’m not a kid anymore, I can’t pretend I’m doing this without understanding, I wanted to make her feel like I did, I wanted to make her pay—but I—I’m not supposed to.” They are going to cry and they don’t want to, they blink it back, grip on their teacup far too tight. “I chased power I shouldn’t have—I messed up again and let out a—a monster—I couldn’t think beyond wanting revenge for Azteca, for Pacal and Zaylin and Tezcat and Neza—for watching Dyvim die and for having to swallow Shadow and—” A sob is working its way up their throat and if they aren’t careful this will shatter them.

“You spent two months in the burrows and barrows of Khrysalis.” Cyrus interjects as the wizard gulps down air, “Isolated again from your classmates, your friends, those who can ground you. It is… easy, to get swept up in the tide of getting even. Especially when one is alone.”

“You didn’t.” They manage to mumble.

“Ah, but I am rarely left to my own. I have… children to teach, collegues who deign to check on me at irritating hours, and an apprentice who has flourished despite having been unable to appear in class more than twice a term, too busy getting themselves dragged into oncoming conflict.”

The wizard’s gaze snaps up at the word apprentice.

“I would have done more for you if it were in my power to do.”

He’s being nice.

He’s not supposed to be nice.

He’s Cyrus Drake.

He’s supposed to be lethal and logical and at best polite, but not nice.

The wizard laughs, and it’s hiding a sob.

Read the rest here <3

[ask-healthy-light]

The warning Stygian gave about the possible future danger of such a tiny Pup did not sit right with anybody else, least of all the Princesses who first came across him, so they merely thanked Stygian for his help, but said no more; and not even Celestia's concerned questions to her Sister and Niece were answered by either of the two, so she sighed, and asked them to be careful with the small Pup.

With Stygian's words echoing within their mind, Luna and Nox did not know what to do, especially as looked down at the Pink Pup who had fallen asleep on her lap, with what appeared to be a smile upon its face; and since she did not dare disturb it as it rested, figuring it was the first time it had rested in days, she did not move, and asked Nox if she could return to the Market to meet with her.

Not long after, Luna saw Nox approaching her in the distance, and she smiled warmly to her Daughter as she walked over, before she stopped some distance away, and began rubbing the sides of her head; but Nox smiled to her Mother in return as she slowly moved towards her with small steps, repeatedly telling herself she was just hearing her instinct, which was not what she truly thought of the Pup.

Eventually, although the hairs on her neck stood upright, and she knew not whether this was through deep hatred or fear towards Curs, Nox made it to within speaking distance of Luna, and, from behind one of the nearby stalls, she asked her what she wanted to talk about; but as she briefly looked at the small Pup on her lap, Luna told her that something did not feel right about Stygian's warnings.

She slowly admitted that she knew not whence these thoughts and feelings of doubt had come, but she figured that this small Pup was in the Empire for a reason; since others from the subgroup of their race are rarely, if ever, found above ground, let alone anywhere outside of Equestria, and it could not possibly have survived on its own for a very long time, it could be looking for its own Family.

Perhaps, Luna continued, it would be wise to return to the Palace, and to take the Pink Pup thither with them, as they could regroup with the others, and collectively think of a plan to get the tuned crystal pendant to Sombra and Star; and apart form this, not only would the small Pink Pup be safe, but together, they could look for the Family it belonged to, if not adopt it into their own Family.

A warm smile grew upon Nox's face as she nodded to her Mother, and approached, seemingly unbothered by the Pink Pup, until she stopped moving a few paces short of her Mother, and the Diamond Cur, and recoiled; for although she had managed to get used to the sight and scent of the Pup, she struggled to convince her own mind it was innocent and harmless, and admitted that it would take her a while.

Nevertheless, she agreed to her Mother's plan, and asked her if there was anything she could do for her at the moment, as she figured she would not be able to move without startling the sleeping Pup; and Luna sighed in a lighthearted manner, before her ears perked up, and she asked Nox if she could bring a board and a pillow, which would allow her to lift the Pup without waking it up by accident.

With a firm nod, Nox flew off, and returned some time later, wearing a bright blush and a shy smile on her face, and holding the board and pillow her Mother had asked for in her arms, while a big bag floated behind her; and Luna merely raised an eyebrow to her Daughter as a smile grew upon her face once again, which only drastically brightened Nox's blush, as she gave Luna what she had asked for.

The smile on Luna's face did not fade as she cautiously slid the board between the Pup and her lap, lifting it enough for her to slide out from underneath it, before she replaced it with the pillow a moment later; and after Luna stretched her legs and her back, she sweetly thanked Nox for her help, before she placed the Pink Pup and pillow on her back, supported by her wings, and left the Market.

To her relief, the sight of the sleeping, innocent, and small Pup greatly reassured Nox's mind…

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask or request! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

Featuring: Nox Lunarwing from @nox-lunarwing

[thecollectionsof]

a bed built for two

leave the light on part 2 because i've been having trouble sleeping lately and don't we all need some comfy nighttime vibes?

Crystal loves the nighttime, she always has. The calmness and quiet of the darkened world, the feeling of being the only person awake and having free reign to do what she wanted without judgement, the look of muted string lights being the only source of light in her bedroom. The warm blankets, late night snacks, and now, Gigi.

Gigi came over some nights, and Crystal went to the apartment Gigi shared with Jackie other nights, but conflicting schedules means they reserve their nights for each other, whether it be going out or staying in. 

She’s at Gigi’s tonight, and Gigi has apparently decided to listen to recordings of calming songs on the piano while she works today rather than working in silence like she normally does. This doesn’t bother Crystal, not at all, but with the gentle sound of Gigi’s pencil moving along the page as she sketches and the rain pattering on the roof, she feels like she could drift off to sleep at any moment.

“Getting tired, Crys?” Gigi doesn’t lift her head from her sketchbook, her hair coming down around her face like a curtain from the way she hunches over the paper. Crystal knows that it’s only a matter of time before she gathers it in a hair clip, or maybe a slicked-back ponytail—she isn’t sure which. 

“Yeah,” she yawns out, standing from where she was sprawled across the couch and stretching her hands above her head, cracking her back. Gigi looks over this time, and Crystal catches the fond look she’s giving her, the small smile on her lips that remains even when she returns her attention to the design in front of her. “You coming?”

Gigi hums. “Nah, I wanna get this done before tomorrow. You go ahead, I’ll join you in a bit.” She reaches out her hand, so Crystal takes it and tangles their fingers together, giving it a gentle squeeze, stepping closer to drop a kiss on the crown of Gigi’s head.

“Don’t work too long, Geege, your bed’s too lonely without you.”

Gigi’s gaze lifts again, the smile on her face growing softer. “Get out of here, you dork,” she waves her off, but even in the low light Crystal can see a blush dusting her cheeks, her face getting red. 

So she does. She pads down the hallway with socked feet, stopping momentarily at Jakcie’s open door. Jackie is on Facetime with her girlfriend, a nightly occurrence, but she still smiles and waves when she sees Crystal. Crystal waves back.

“Tell Jan hi for me!” she calls over her shoulder as she continues to the bathroom, slipping inside and suddenly being thankful that they had already changed into their pajamas. It doesn’t take her long to get ready for bed, brushing her teeth and quickly washing her face before heading to Gigi’s room, switching on the string lights that she had helped Gigi hang up a few months ago when she realized that Gigi only had overhead lighting in her room. 

She slips into Gigi’s bed just as she starts to hear movement from the other room. It takes her almost no time at all to start waiting for her to come join her, feeling dwarfed by being the only thing other than pillows and blankets on the queen sized bed. At least she had stuffed animals to cuddle when she felt lonely in bed, but Gigi’s childhood stuffed animal was sitting on a shelf in a place of honor next to a scrap of fabric from her first sewing project as a child and a participation trophy for bowling that she had gotten when she was nine.

Gigi had told her the story of the trophy so many times, Crystal thought that she must have it memorized by now. The elated feeling she got when the people running it handed her a “girl trophy” because they had run out of the “boy trophies” had helped her discover that she was trans in the first place, so there the trophy sat, in a place of honor.

Speaking of Gigi, she should be here by now. Crystal was tired, but she didn’t want to fall asleep, not when it meant that she fell asleep without cuddling anything. Without cuddling Gigi.

It’s not all too much longer until the door opens, letting Gigi into the room. She tucks herself under the covers easily, letting Crystal scooch closer and tangle their legs together. Her phone is still playing the music as she goes to plug it in, but Crystal doesn’t mind—the songs are soothing, the perfect ones to listen to at night. She recognizes some from a playlist she had made many, many nights ago in the comfort of her bed on a night that was particularly full of yearning, a playlist called songs that sound like love. 

A playlist that reminded her of Gigi.

“Finally,” Crystal hears herself mutter, but she doesn’t stop herself. It was true, she had missed Gigi’s presence even in the few minutes they were apart. “Missed you.”

Gigi’s giggle makes her feel lighter, and she lets her eyes fall shut, trying to memorize the sound. “Didn’t want to sprawl out and take my whole bed for yourself?” she asks, and the grin is audible in her voice. Crystal shakes her head.

“No. The bed is too big for just me. I need you here or it doesn’t feel right.” The sleepy confession is out of her before she can think about the words, but yet again she finds that she doesn’t want to take them back. They’re true, after all, even if they’re very forward.

“Oh.” It’s quiet, taken aback in a way that makes Crystal crack her eyes open again. Gigi has her mouth open, just a little, lost for words. She closes it, thinks for a second, then responds. “I want you here all the time.”

A bolt of affection rushes through her, butterflies in her stomach announcing their presence by fluttering as if their lives depended on it. 

I want you here all the time. 

Crystal doesn’t know how to reply, doesn’t know if she can. She settles on inching forward again, her eyes falling shut once more and a hum leaving her lips involuntarily. Gigi reaches out and brushes a curl behind her ear, and she sighs, content. 

“G’night, Geege,” she says, after a few minutes of letting the rain and gentle piano and sound of Gigi’s breathing lull her to sleep. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Crys. Sweet dreams.”

Crystal loves the nighttime, and falling asleep while cuddling with Gigi only makes her love it even more.

[skzhocomments]

I can read your smile - Choi Minho SHINee Fanfic - Chapter 8 - We are the sea and the sky

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

---

Chapter 8 - We are the sea and the sky

word count: 2.4k words

~third person POV~

"Psst. Wake up."

"What happened?" Crystal opened her eyes and saw Minho hover above her, his face mere millimetres away. How did he get in here? She went to sleep with Jude and Lydia.

"Shh. Don't be loud, you're gonna wake up the others." He whispered.

It was still dark, so Crystal couldn't understand what Minho was doing. She actually couldn't understand anything, because she just woke up, and she was tired as fuck. What time was it?

"Go freshen up and get changed in your swimsuit. 5 minutes, my car. I'll wait for you. Don't be late, we have to hurry up." He spoke quickly, then left the room in a hurry, and Crystal was confused as heck.

Still, she followed his instructions as in a trance, brushed her teeth, put on her swimsuit and some clothes, brushed her hair in a rush and was out in the 5-minute time frame Minho gave her.

It was very chilly, and she noticed it was just shy of 6 AM. He was waiting for her in the car, and to her pleasant surprise, the seats were heated, and it was warm inside.

"Morning." He smiled. "You made it."

"Of course. What's up? Why did you wake me up so early?" Crystal smiled back lazily. The sleep still hasn't worn off her face, but her heart was beating fast. Too fast for her liking. Remembering last night's events didn't help too much either.

"I promised you something." He said. "A long while ago. And I'm gonna make that happen right now."

He started driving. The streets were empty and slow tunes were playing on the radio.

"This place is beautiful." Crystal said absent-mindedly, and he hummed.

"The city?"

"Yea... looks cute, with all these perfect white picket fence houses. I wonder who lives in them."

"I think most are vacation homes."

"Oh. It's a shame though, to have such a nice house and not live in it..." She yawned.

After about 20 minutes, they reached their destination, and Crystal was excited to see the outline of waves crashing against the rocks far away, and the sea kissing the sand and retreating.

"We're here." Minho smiled, and helped her out of the car, grabbing a small basket from the trunk.

"Oh my God! The sea!" She spoke excitedly, then pointed to the basket. "What is that for?"

"You'll see in a second." He grabbed her hand and dragged her on the beach through the sand, motioning her to take off her shoes.

The sand was cold against her feet, but it was pleasant, and Minho's hand was warm in hers.

The beach was otherwise empty, which was not surprising, considering the early hour. Minho was probably the only crazy enough person who would wake up so early after drinking the whole night.

A few metres away from the water, Minho finally stopped walking and removed his hand from Crystal's, taking two blankets out of the basket. The first one, he placed on the sand, and he made Crystal sit down.

He sat down next to her as well and covered both of them with the second blanket.

"The sun should rise in about 15 minutes." He spoke, and Crystal leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I can already see the outline." She pointed to the horizon, where a thin orange line was beginning to form just where the sky met the water.

Crystal found it so heartbreaking. From far away, it looked like the sea could kiss the sky. They seemed so close, barely distinguishable from the other, as if they became one. But they are actually thousands of kilometres apart. They can never be close. They can only love the other from a distance, yearning for the other's touch. What a tragic fate for a pair of lovers who would meet every day but would never get close enough to understand each other.

Minho and Crystal sat in silence and listened to the waves crashing on the shore, and saw the night become morning, the sky once dark blue starting to be a burning orange.

Soon enough, a ball of fire emerged from the sea, and the whole sight was probably the most beautiful thing Crystal has ever seen.

"I love it." She spoke quietly, and Minho simply nodded, pressing the arm that was holding the blanket tightly against her back.

"We have one more thing we must do, since we're here." He said. "When you're ready."

"Which is?" She raised a brow.

"Take off your clothes."

He glanced directly in her eyes as he said this, leaving Crystal dumbfounded.

"You're so straight forward!" She joked. Of course, she knew he was talking about being left in the swimsuit, but the way he phrased it was... questionable, to say the least.

He winked in response and stood up, taking off his T-shirt and trousers.

Yesterday at the pool, she tried not to focus too much on how his body looked, but it was hard not to do so now, when he was the only person around her – and also the only one she cared to see. Not even the sea seemed interesting enough now, with Minho almost naked in front of her.

She tried to stop herself from being a creep and staring, and she followed suit and took off her clothes.

"It's so cold!" She whined.

"I know." He laughed in response. "Are you ready, though?"

"Don't tell me you want us to swim." She chuckled.

"Why else would've I asked you to put on your swimsuit?"

"But Minho, it's freezing."

"Oh, stop complaining! Let's go." He handed her his hand, and she took it once more, and they started running together towards the water.

It was cold. So cold, that as soon as her feet made contact with it, Crystal stopped and protested that she couldn't go any further.

Minho laughed at her and turned around, grabbing her waist and scooping her up so she didn't have a choice but to go in the water with him.

She held on tight to his body and both laughed and laughed when a wave would come high enough to brush on their abdomens, and once they were far enough from the shore, Minho suddenly squatted, so that the water engulfed both of them completely.

"Fuckkk, it's so cold! I'm gonna get sick!" Crystal laughed.

"We're gonna drink tea when we get out. Now show me what you've learnt yesterday." Minho encouraged her and watched as she tried to swim.

"How is this?" The girl boasted while swimming around sloppily.

"Not bad."

"Not bad?! I'm literally a pro?!"

"Yea, yea, sure you are!" Minho teased her. "At least your head's above water."

"Don't make me splash you, Ming!"

"Are you threatening me?!" He gasped, and Crystal splashed him with a laugh.

He started running towards her in water and she tried to swim away, but he caught her quite quickly. He grabbed her waist and threw her underwater, then helped her up again.

"I can't believe you did that!" She laughed. "You're taking advantage of the fact that you're taller!"

"I mean, it's a good advantage to have." He shrugged with a laugh, so she jumped on him, trying to bring him underwater as well.

Of course, she was unsuccessful, so she ended up being held by him above water, her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

~Crystal's POV~

We looked into each other's eyes for what felt like forever, and everything around us disappeared. It didn't matter that I was seeing the sea for the first time, or that the sun just began to shine over us in its beautiful orange tones, or that night became day. All that mattered was Minho, and the fact that he was looking at me the same way I was looking at him. Seeing that he might just have the same feelings as I do gave me courage, and I was captivated by him, so a logical thought came to mind. I had to lean in and kiss him.

And I did it.

I leaned in, but the outcome wasn't as I expected, for Minho didn't seem to be on the same page. His expression contorted with an emotion I couldn't quite read – guilt, perhaps? – and he cleared his throat and moved his head away, averting his gaze.

He rejected me.

Why?

I couldn't understand.

Did I read the room wrong? Tonight, and today as well.

I apparently did.

Otherwise, why wouldn't he kiss me?

It was all in my head.

Fuck.

I felt tears pricking the corners of my eyes as overthinking got the better of me, but I couldn't show this to Minho. Instead, I detached myself from him, and he spoke after clearing his throat once more.

"We should probably get out. We're gonna catch a cold."

Oh, so now you're worried about catching a cold?

I wanted to laugh.

"Yea, it's cold as fuck." Was all I said, and I was trying my hardest to keep my composure and not break down in front of him.

I couldn't believe I was so stupid to mistake friendship for something more.

All he did last night, keeping me in his arms, coming here with me holding my hand – everything was out of friendship.

I am so fucking stupid.

That's what you get for getting carried away, Crystal.

We headed back to the basket and he pulled out two big towels for us to wipe the water off and a thermos full of boiling hot tea. It did nothing to warm me up, though.

Afterwards, we headed to the car. Before leaving the beach, I glanced at the horizon one more time, and it now reminded me of me and Minho.

I am the sea, and he is the sky, and we could only appear this close, but we are actually miles apart, and we're never going to be together.

What a devastating thought.

~

We stayed silent the whole way home, listening to music. It seemed way longer than when we came. It was like it was not ending, while all I wanted to do was to get out of the damn car and run away from him and from my feelings that were eating me inside out.

I started to feel a weird atmosphere settling down between us, and I cursed myself once again for being so stupid and thinking he actually had feelings for me.

When we reached the house, we said goodbye and headed to our rooms to fall back asleep, since everyone else was still sleeping and probably wouldn't wake up until noon.

Of course, I couldn't fall back asleep. Instead, I headed to the bathroom and let myself cry as quietly as possible, so as to not wake up Lydia and Jude, and tried my hardest to forget that I let my heart be swayed away by Minho. 

I fell in love, but I didn't look back to see if he was looking back at me, and now I'm paying the price at almost 8AM on the bathroom floor.

Why the fuck am I so sensitive?

We are just roommates, or maybe friends.

We've always been just that.

I simply have to forget the way his hands felt on my waist, on my thigh, or on my cheeks.

Easy enough to do.

~

"Woah, Taemin! So many gifts!" Kai exclaimed as the birthday boy started opening up his presents, going thoroughly through each of the bags and boxes and thanking whoever bought him the gift properly.

"Right! I'll invite y'all to my birthday too! I want to open this many gifts!" Jude spoke and watched Taemin fondly.

"Dude, you literally always get more gifts than this, because you invite the whole damn university." Lydia side-eyed her. "Like, remember your birthday last year?"

"Shut up!" Jude crossed her hands over her chest.

"What, is it not true?" Lydia rolled her eyes.

"Whatever." Jude rolled her eyes as well, and I started laughing.

"Which reminds me." Lydia started up. "I've been to Taemin's birthday, and to Jude's. Crystal, when is your birthday?"

"My birthday?" I chuckled nervously. "Why?"

"What do you mean why? We have to know, as your friends."

"It really doesn't matter that much." I tried to shrug it off, but Lydia wouldn't back down.

"Yes, it does. We have to celebrate, and give you gifts. I bet you'd be more grateful than this piece of work here." She pointed to Jude, who scoffed.

"I've never celebrated it or received gifts. It's not that important to me."

"What?! That's- no way!" Jude stood up and came in front of me. It seems like I really had no way out. "What do you mean you've never received gifts?!"

"I just didn't. It's not a big deal." I laughed it off.

"Tell me when's your birthday- now!"

"What's up girls?" Key and Minho approached us, bringing us some of Taemin's cake. We took the plates from their hands and tasted it – it was chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream.

"Crystal just told us she's never celebrated her birthday or gotten any gifts!"

"Never?!" Key gasped.

"Oh my God, it's really not such a big deal!" I replied, this time annoyed, my mouth full of cake. We all started to laugh at that.

Minho's presence made me feel bad. It felt like he was staring at me, and my emotions were all over the place because of him, so I would've appreciated it if he gave me some space to mourn my feelings at least.

"So, when's your birthday? Just tell us!" Lydia started again, and I sighed. Since there's no way out, I might just as well tell them.

"It was last month, on the 15th. Happy?" I asked annoyed, but still smiled.

"It was?!" Jude exclaimed and I rolled my eyes. I really wasn't in the mood for this.

Everything annoyed me. Jude's exaggerated remarks, Lydia's insistence, Minho being here, even the fucking songs in the background were annoying. They all just made me feel worse and worse, and the worse I felt, the more I had to smile to cover it up. Having to pretend to be happy was getting tiring.

'I wish you roses' by Kali Uchis started playing, and that just made everything more painful.

'Never thought I would be without you, I wish you love, I wish you well, I wish you roses while you can still smell them.'

Why the fuck did it have to be a break-up song?

Fucking Jimin and his sad ass playlists. I cursed inside my head.

I smiled and assured Jude that we're going to celebrate next year and that I'm looking forward to it, now that I know that she wants us to meet up on my birthday, and both she and Lydia seemed satisfied by the outcome. Key and Minho didn't say anything, and I also didn't include them in any way, because why would I?

I tried to celebrate with Minho. He didn't want that either.

And he didn't want to kiss me, which still hurt.

---

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

[storylocke]

Alolan Dusk 14

Burnet:

[There wasn't really much else to say after that, but it still makes her feel so helpless] …After a while, I was able to get Kukui well enough for me to help him walk inside. We got him cleaned up, bandaged… I got him to drink, but he didn't eat anything until this morning. He's been sleeping off and on since then, but every time he wakes up, it's always sudden and alert like he heard something; which has got me paranoid now since every time I wondered if he was right. It wouldn't be so bad, but it took everything I could think of to keep him inside the apartment. I was scared if he got out, I'd never see him again. 

Guzma:

I can believe it. After seeing him today, as wrapped up as he is, he acted like he's still looking for Round 3. [Awkward glance at Gladion as he remembers their earlier conversation.] And as battle obsessed as the guy is, it's like even as a Shadow he's been able to channel all the usual aggression into focus on a singular opponent. It's just… There's a fire in him we can't put out. 

Lillie:

[Nods along as he describes it] The three of us were able to get him here, but given the circumstances, we had to put him in an isolated cell. I just hope Necrozma isn't mad enough to come looking for him…

Wicke:

I'm afraid we'll have to deal with the beast regardless of what he's after. We learned that it's already aware and angered by the evacuation, and we heard the creature may have been targeting individuals specifically because they knew too much about it. I doubt that, even if it is injured, Necrozma will sit idly by with Burnet as a liability. 

Burnet: 

[Sinks down a bit as she knows she's probably right.] Should I go, then? I wouldn't want to put anyone else in danger over all this. 

Molayne:

Of course not. That just gives us more reason to get a hold of the monster before it can come to that. [*Despite not seeing it for himself, he's unsure how to react to the news that his old friend has ended up in such a state. Thinking over the story gives him some hope as he tries to lighten things up.] We might be in luck. Since it sounds like Necrozma got a taste of its own medicine, it must be pretty hurt to run off like that. I'm still concerned for Roark's sake, but the brute might be laying low for a while to recover. 

Gladion:

Depends on how it usually recovers. If it needs sleep and herbs like most Pokemon do, you'd be right. But if it's just a matter of energy, most of our investigation showed the break in at Po Town was probably after the fight. What would you say, he attacked you somewhere between eleven and two last night? 

Burnet:

[Straightens up with new concern. A break in?] Not too far after midnight, I think. 

Guzma:

If it was after, then this thing has possibly consumed an entire trunk worth of Z-Crystals to replenish its energy. 

Lillie:

I doubt crystals give as much energy as living things do, but if Roark was the one in control, he might have gone there to keep from hurting anyone else. He would have known about the chest, wouldn't he?

Guzma:

[Gets his blood boiling just thinking about it] Tch, yeah. There's not much to be done in fixing Po Town, but that didn't stop Roark and Kukui from stopping by to help with repairs. Little maniac probably had his eye on it, just waiting for-

Quips:

[Softly] Roark never could say what happened to Hau that day. [He'd been quiet during most of the story, and the remark catches everyone's attention.] To think he may have been under that monster's spell that long ago… 

Burnet:

[Her heart sinks as she can only imagine how that hurt him. He would have been closer to Roark than any of them. Except maybe Lillie. Clears her throat.] I can't think of a better way to describe it, but the way he acted, I genuinely don't think he knows. He and Hau were so close, he'd never hurt him on purpose. I don't think Roark would hurt anyone if he could help it. 

Quips:

That's not what worries me. [Leans back in his seat to face the group. Don't give him that look, he'll be alright. Deep breath he debates how to explain this] Back when I was about their age, I knew two other Chosen. Being a former Chosen, Roark would have been used to blacking out, which he always told me is what happened when he and Hau were attacked. I wouldn't think passing out like that would continue after the Voices left, but I couldn't argue it when both my brother, Devin, and our friend, Nigel, had lingering health problems after their journeys. It scared Roark, but we both thought it was a residual effect he would have to learn to deal with. But now? 

Faba:

[More annoyed than concerned] Yes, the problem now is it sounds like Roark is as aware of this as we are. What he plans to do with that knowledge could spell trouble for all of us. 

Dexio:

How's that? Before, it was suggested we just try to keep him away without causing a scene when he finds out he's not allowed on board. If he knows it's because he's a threat to us and the whole operation, wouldn't that make our job easier? 

Faba:

For one, we can't predict his mental state after discovering such news. If he's alone and away from us while he sorts this out, then that's wonderful. But if he's panicking, he could come here seeking help and accidentally put us all in danger. Or if he and Necrozma are in a confused and disoriented state together, the monster may be ripe for a rampage like when it first escaped Ultra Megalopolis. It could also be that if Roark is trying to fight back, and Necrozma realizes it no longer has a puppet, it might be pushed into drastic action. 

Gladion:

[Solemnly] Drastic like taking complete control because it can't trust Roark to enter places for it willingly anymore. If it dropped him to take revenge, it has no shield against Pokeballs, and if it tried to take someone else, it would risk exposure for an attack. Desperation or retaliation seem most likely. And if it's smart enough to not only possess but try to impersonate its host, our only solution may be to attack or capture Roark on sight. 

Lillie:

[Frowns] But how are we supposed to capture him? Unless you mean physically with nets and a chamber or something. 

Faba:

Hmph. I don't suppose you two know how your mother went about freezing things, do you? 

Gladion:

[Tenses up, trying to keep his temper in check as that's the second time he'd been accused of doing such a thing] No. But I have a feeling it would take too long anyway. 

Colress:

[While they're all debating, leans over to whisper to Molayne] I guess that means we won't have much time for research. Are you ready for a long night?

Molayne:

[Soft sigh and nods. Olivia was going to kill him. He perks up when remembering they may have extra help now.] Actually a net and chains may not be such a bad idea if we can stun it long enough to get close to it. Burnet? [She seems nervous as she sits at alert] That mirror you were using was able to somehow seal Necrozma within Roark, didn't it? Not fixing him, but it seemed to calm him down? Or at the very least, if we see him, we can see what state he's in. 

Colress:

[Intrigued what the Elite could be thinking now] Yes, what is that exactly? Keeping it hidden in a lockbox and having such an effect on the creature makes it sound extraordinary. 

Wicke:

The Reveal Glass? [Excited] Oh, it is fascinating. My team discovered it ages ago when studying the Dreamworld. It was hidden in this old shrine, but since it was said to have some ties to the Interdream Zone, we just had to have it~! I eventually had to give it to the Dimensional Research Lab for protection, but who would have thought after all these years, the mirror would be protecting us! 

Burnet:

Heh, hadn't thought of it like that. I didn't bring it to dinner, but I have it secured in my new office. It's not exactly something to be passed around. [Concerned] No one knows how Reveal Glass was made or how it works, but there are so many stories of people who believe what they see in these mirrors as their real self. Tales of those staring into the pool or reflection so long that it led to obsession, paranoia, using the mirrors to determine major alliances, and often falling into self-fulfilled prophecies. 

Wicke:

That much seems true. I'd say this thing played a role in the Dreamyard's destruction, which is why I gave it away. 

Burnet:

And I still study it because of the interdimensional connections, but we don't leave it out where the staff can readily access it. 

Colress:

Astonishing! [They may be telling him this as a warning, but it only makes him even more eager to get his hands on one and learn for himself. Just gives the women a smile] We don't want to take it from you, I'm simply thinking it might play a key role in our plans to face the creature. Is that right? 

Molayne:

Yes. If it can be used to paralyze or confuse Necrozma, it might buy us some time to enact some countermeasures. 

Gladion:

And if we tie it down and shove it in a room, then what? Do you honestly think some chains are going to hold it when the dedicated and more advanced prison in Megalopolis couldn't? 

Lillie:

And what about Roark? Do these measures have a plan for saving him? 

Quips:

We all want to save him, my dear, but I think sealing the beast away is everyone's top priority. If that means he has to be sealed away with it until new tools can be made, it's an unfortunate risk we have to take. 

Burnet:

I'm not sure it would work anyway. I understand these rare mirrors were apparently made to replicate the sacred lakes that are said to connect to other worlds, and only certain Pokemon can pass through the gateways which would cause some sort of transformation. Humans can't pass through the looking glass, but I don't think what they see is what they really are at their core, it's just another version of themselves. The figure in the reflection does exist, but it's still a play on our own internal perception and hidden ambitions. [Deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts on the subject since she's been all out of sorts today.] I just say this because Roark is a strange case. We're not even in full agreement to what Necrozma even is. The Reveal Glass can cause a form change with some Pokemon, so that might be how our friend regained control. But for how quickly they switched back, I'm not sure if the reflection would be considered his "other form" since there was no physical change in the real world. Could be that the way he was talking to me before the fight about everything being his fault, it just happened that his guilt lined up with the truth. It might even be that the light attack is what stunned Necrozma enough for Roark to finally see it. 

Faba:

Hmph. Somehow, if that were the case, I highly doubt Necrozma would fall for the same trick twice. 

Molayne:

[Understandable, but that puts a damper on things] I didn't say it was the best plan, I'm just trying to assess what all we have at our disposal in order to keep us and our Pokemon from having to challenge this monster directly. 

Guzma:

[Crosses arms over his chest, closes his eyes] Y'all can plan all you like, but you know that if and when that moment comes, it's going to be chaos. Practice your reactions, maybe and keep the tools nearby. Take it from me, there's no "planning" for what that thing will do.

Everyone:

[That certainly brought the mood down.] 

Gladion: 

As I said before, we don't have many leads to go on right now. Might be wise though to keep our strongest partners and these "tools" on hand if anything comes up, and find out as much as we can about our options between now and when we leave. [Looks the group over to see any objections.] Now, unless anyone else has anything to say, we should split up for the night and try to get some rest. Even if we're preparing for an encounter, we can't forget that our main priority is the evacuation.  [They all agreed, and prepared to leave. With that in mind, though, it would be a hard time for anyone to think about sleep.]

~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: With the gang all here, it's time for a break. There's a lot to think about and arrangements to be made, so the next chapter or so will just be some character interactions before we get back into the action. I debated about including it or not, but it's got some fun world building.

Archive

[officialgomezaddams]

TWO SHORT ANAKIN SKYWALKER BLURBS

The young padawan sat in the co-pilot's chair fiddling with the small crystal she had slipped into the pockets of his robe before he left for the mission. The black rock was small, he only noticed a few hours prior when he was searching his pockets for some headphones, wanting to drift off to some music while the ship was cruising through space on route to get back to the temple. 

He was confused, how did this get here? He didn’t remember putting a rock in his pocket this time as he had done before giving his tiny findings to her. Anakin and his master had just left one of the most gassiest planets out in the entire solar system so there was no way the black gem had even come from the planet they were just at. 

It was only when Obi-Wan saw his padawan be so engrossed in the small rock he asked what it was. Anakin shrugged, holding it up, “A rock.” 

Obi-Wan scuffed sitting in the pilot's seat, and held out his hand. When Anakin handed it over Obi-wan looked at it more closely. “It seems to be black tourmaline. Some people use it to help with protection against negative energy and stress.” He explained handing it back. “Tell Y/n it must have worked from what we just came out of.” Obi-wan finished, turning his attention to the book in his hands.

Anakin smiled. “It’s not from her.” he lied. He looked at the vastness of space in front of him and then back at the rock wondering how he managed to get lucky enough to fall in love with Y/n, but to have her sneak him crystals on mission so he would be safe. 

“I could get you something like flowers if you want?” Anakin asked his girlfriend while she was focused on entering data onto the holopad in her hands. Visiting her at her job wasn’t the best time to indulge in small conversations, but the young doctor in training gave the clumsy boy the perfect excuse to visit her. “I’m sure I can grab a few before I go and ya know, be the strongest jedi in the galaxy.” He bragged which made her laugh.

“I want you to come back alive.” She told him to set the device down and turn her chair to face Anakin who sat on the examining bed. 

“I always do.”

“Last time you came back without an arm.” Y/n snarked back. “Do you know how freaked out I was? I was expecting hugs and maybe dinner but you came off that ship in a stretcher Anakin. Just be careful okay?” 

“Okay my love,” He said, pushing himself off and walking over to the door with you. “And its your turn for dinner actually.” He joked pulling her into a soft hug before being playfully pushed out of the room.

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

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

“What’s wrong Anakin?” Y/n tried to calm her boyfriend down who was currently pacing the apartment they shared crying, basically hyperventilating. From what she had so far gathered, the council meeting didn’t go well. The mission Anakin went on had been anything but successful and she knew that Mace Widnu had no problem taking digs at the Jedi knight. “I can’t help you if you don't talk to me, honey.” She told him, putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving.

“W-we need to do it-t.” Anakin cried, desperately looking in her eyes. “We should leave and never come back.” He sob at the end shook his body enough for him to almost collapse, lucky enough her arms had moved to his waist allowing her body to support the crying man. “We need to run away. I don’t want this anymore.” 

The idea of running away was a dream they both shared. Getting away from the temple and having a life of their own, together of course, was a common conversation they had. Nights where sleep was restless or if one of them would have a nightmare the sweet dreams of not having to live by the jedi boundaries was an escape. One would think they had it all figured out due to how detailed they would get. The couple would talk about the house they were going to live in, how many bedrooms they need, one or two levels. Where they would work, Anakin would get a job at a maintenance shop, fixing up ships or droids that needed work and she would open up a small bakery, Anakin would always tell her that he would get everything for free. 

“It’d be the boyfriend discount, and since I am the only boyfriend it only applies to me,” he joked once, making her laugh. 

They even talked about what ship they would take when they made their great escape, what planets they would need to stop at to throw off anyone who might be on their trail. Anakin would pilot much to her disapproval. “What's our better option? I know you don’t know how to fly angel, and I am the best pilot in the entire galaxy.” 

“Are you sure?” Y/n asked, running away was a lot. No more talking to friends, or any type of communication with the people they knew for years upon years. 

Anakin nodded, taking in a deep breath and standing up straight. “Please, Y/n. I want this. I want you.” He begged her. “I want to marry you not in some bullshit private wedding, in front of family and friends. Maybe even then we could start our own family, we just- not here. We can’t have that here and I’m tired of waiting.”

“Okay,” Y/n whispered, Anakin’s confidence about eloping growing on to her. “Yes. I’ll run away with you.” 

“That’s all I need to hear.” He responded before kissing her, knowing this now was the start of their lifetime together. 

[whirlybirbs]

         (  chapter 6′s gif by @buckysbarnes​​ from this lovely set !  )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  6/?

summary: gunshot wounds, panic attacks, and evil next door neighbors.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 5.3k, a filler before the real sexual tension.

a/n: be warned, this chapter has a diy medical procedure where bucky removes the slug from rabbit’s shoulder. it’s nothing too graphic, but keep that in mind! also, i wanted to say thank you to everyone who has rec’d, reblogged, commented, kudos, liked, looked at this fic. the response to every chapter has been so overwhelmingly kind and i’m so thankful that i have the oppurtunity to share this fic with you all. that being said, i broke this chapter up. next week has some spice. ;-)

        (   PREVIOUSLY   |    AO3    |    MASTERLIST  |   NEXT )

Bucky wakes up with a headache that feels like someone’s tapped an icepick between his eyes. A fire-bright burn radiates under his ribs.

It’s a slow creep back to reality — he just lays there and stares at the peeling wallpaper that meets the corner of the ceiling for a while, knowing deep in the back of his muddled, confused thoughts that he most likely has a nasty concussion, maybe a few broken ribs.

How? Hm. Fighting. Music? The club.

Rabbit.

He sits up fast and Bucky’s blue eyes struggle to adjust in the low-light of the scarcely furnished apartment. The searing pang of his headache is enough to make his stomach churn, but he’s had worse. So much worse. This is manageable. So, he swallows down the nausea and looks around the room like a wounded animal — and almost immediately, relief greets him at the sight of you in the armchair across from the couch.

Your hair is a mess, falling from it’s previous style that you’d proudly worn to The Glass Cannon. Your lipstick is smeared, there’s glitter on your cheeks, and your make-up has transitioned from starlet beauty to broken-hearted bombshell. Bucky notices, with a bit of dismay, that you’re even missing an earring. There’s a nasty bruise forming along the peak of your cheekbone and a gash there from when Alexei had cracked you across the face with the pistol — and even despite all this, Bucky can feel his heart clench at the sight of you. A good clench. The sort that makes his heart kick into a stutter step.

You look… well, you look like someone who’d had the shit choked out of them and then was shot.

Shot.

Your jacket, punched clean through with the single bullet hole, is hanging over the back of the chair and there’s gauze taped to your shoulder. You’re leaning your good cheek in your hand, attention turned totally to Bucky, where you’ve fallen asleep. From here, you’re a picture of exhaustion.

Anxiety flashes in his heart and he swings his legs over the edge of the couch.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Take it easy.”

It’s the woman from before, Kiwi, and she’s got an ice pack in her hands. It’s wrapped in a ratty, green dish towel, and she hands it off to Bucky with a pitiful little look. Rounding the couch, Bucky finally gets a better look at her.

She’s older than you, maybe by a handful of years, but sharp and beautiful nonetheless. Her hair is dark as night and the tips are drenched in a lime colored dye. Her eyes are dark, too, ringed by kohl and glitter, and Bucky wonders if he’s ever seen her before.

“You heal quick,” she says quietly as she plops down into the chair across the room. On a makeshift desk, there’s a laptop, “Care to explain how you know our dear friend Rabbit here?”

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. Again, his eyes fall on your sleeping form.

He maneuvers the ice pack in his hands, then gently presses it to his ribs. He melts a bit, ignoring the evident tears in the silk shirt. He feels bad — he’d busted some of the seams in the midst of the brutal scuffle and it seems like this artifact of Jaimie’s was most likely beyond salvation.

His dog tags jingle against his chest.

“Therapy,” Bucky croaks, “We, uh, we met in therapy.”

A new voice comes into the picture now, one that’s muffled by a mouthful of food.

“That’s cute.”

It’s the other one, Climber. He’s traded in his all-black, all-polyurethane outfit for an expensive looking t-shirt. Without the strobes, without the tunnel vision, Bucky can now see the intricate buzz cut that sits beneath the mountain of blue curls on his head. There are patterns buzzed into his tight-shave. He’s got a smile, too, the glimmers a little too artificially. Bucky spies crystals inset on his incisors between bites of what looks like a bowl of cereal with no milk. Spoon and all.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met,” Climber says as he plops down next to Bucky on the couch, “What’d you say your name was?”

A hand is jutted his way. Bucky blinks. He shakes it with his vibranium hand.

“I’m Bucky.”

“Well, I’m gay and you’re gorgeous,” he says candidly, giving it a good shake, “So, if that’s of any interest—”

“Can you please shut up, Climber?” comes an irritated rasp from you in your armchair. Bucky turns to watch as you raise your head and rub your eyes, “Christ, I just fell asleep.”

“And your little supersoldier just woke up,” Kiwi chirps from her preoccupation with the laptop and contents on it, “So why don’t you stop being a little baby and let him look at that gunshot wound.”

Bucky’s face falls flat. He drops the ice pack to the coffee table with a thwunk.

You sit up, gingerly trying to maneuver yourself so as to not bother both your ribs and your shoulder. It takes a moment, but finally you’re sitting up with only a dull ache of pain throbbing beneath your skin. Now, the real sting comes from the bitter look Bucky has pinned you with.

“You haven’t cleaned it yet?”

“The shits in the kitchen,” Kiwi waves at Bucky, as if to say told you so, “She fuckin’ refused to let me take care of it.”

“You’re going to get an infection if it stays in you any longer,” he snaps, standing to his feet, “Get up.”

“Kiwi isn’t exactly the most gentle person I know,” you manage to supply as an excuse as you move through the room, “And I know that thing isn’t coming out without a fight.”

He can feel the grey hairs coming in already.

You stand slowly, and Bucky looms behind you as you weave into the small apartment’s kitchen.

It’s barely lived in, but a few years ago it most definitely had life. Now, it’s mostly abandoned save for a few necessities. Kiwi had told you, a long time ago, about this spot — it was her parent’s place before the Snap. After the Blip, they ended up moving back to Massachusetts. Now abandoned by anyone seeking to really live in the one bedroom, it sits collecting dust until Kiwi inevitably needs it.

Like now.

“Up on the counter.”

You wince at his tone, but still thankful to be away from Kiwi and Climber’s prying eyes.

For the entire time Bucky had been out, you’d been subjected to a myriad of questions — all were fair, really, since Bucky did just bust out the Avenger-level super-moves on some Russian mafiosos for your sake, vibranium arm and all. The arm was really the biggest stuck point in the conversation as you tried your best to explain the nature of your relationship with the unconscious supersoldier on the couch. It was met with plenty of looks, both curious and skeptical.

You’re slow to hop up on the dusty marble countertop. From there, you watch Bucky poke through the kit that Kiwi had pulled from under the sink.

Then, with the calculated process of a man who has pulled one too many bullets from himself, Bucky slams the kit shut and wanders into the bathroom.

He returns with a pair of large tweezers. He’s silent as the dead as he rummages for a pan, fills it with water, and sets the gas burner on. He stares, watching the pot boil, as his foot taps against the floor.

You swallow down any comments.

There’s a clean towel beside you, and Bucky casually reached into the boiling water with his vibranium hand to retrieve the tweezers — whether or not he purposely ignored the pain is lost on you. You’re too busy anxiously spiraling into silence.

(He’s trying to ground himself, to feel something other than panic. It’s a mild spike, but it’s still panic. Because you’re hurt. Because you still have a fucking casing lodged in your shoulder and he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. Ever. Because he saw it happen and then it was black, and now that anxiousness is creeping in.)

Rubbing alcohol, tweezers, gauze, tape, and… Jack Daniel’s.

It’s from the top of the fridge. It’s got a layer of dust on it — and it’s unopened.

Bucky unceremoniously pops the cap and hands the open bottle to you.

You take it and pause.

Bucky’s gaze is cold.

“You’re gonna want to take a few swigs, Doll.”

You almost snarl. You take a long drink then, ignoring the burn of the whiskey down your throat. It’s only when you’ve had enough to nearly gag that you hand the bottle back and then hiss:

“Don’t call me Doll.”

He takes the bottle and unceremoniously slams it down on the counter.

His movements are rough as he washes his hands — and if Bucky was a better person, maybe he’d take a second and parse through why he was feeling so damn irritable. But, no, no, he could figure out that he was angry at himself and you and Alexei Gardzov and Innessa Sidrova and fucking… everyone because he can’t have any normal relationships in his life without there being bloodshed or pain or suffering. That was enough, and he didn’t want to dig deeper into the nipping fear of losing you, not now, not when he had a job to do—

You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers brush your collarbone. He gently moves the delicate strap of your bodysuit, ignoring the soft skin beneath, and pulls the gauze away from your shoulder.

Your jacket had taken most of the impact it seems. Bucky frowns deeply at the pink fibers clinging to the entry wound. It’s a nasty puckered bit of flesh, smeared with blood, right in the soft muscle of your left shoulder. The hole is a little smaller than a quarter — Bucky recognizes it as shot from a 9mm almost immediately. He’s taken a few of these in his days. He’s glad it wasn’t close range. The burns from the muzzle flash make for nasty scars. He’d know. He has one on his back, right above his hip.

Bucky’s jaw is tight. He’s gritting his back teeth. His headache throbs angrily behind his eyes.

Bucky leans, eyeing the wound carefully. His limited reaction is enough to spark a little light of bravery in your gut, and you move to look at the hole — only to find a vibranium hand rooting your jaw in place. It’s gentle enough as it recorrects the line of your gaze straight ahead. His thumb rests on the curve of your chin as his index climbs your jaw, and the vibranium is warm and cold all at once. It’s an odd sensation. Not bad, but not flesh.

You like it.

(You find your mind quickly flashing with the thought of what that hand would feel like in other places. You ignore it.)

Your eyes are stuck on Bucky.

He’s clearly upset — the pinch between his brows and the evident scowl on his lips is enough of an indication. The bridge of his nose is busted and there’s a bruise crawling under his left eye. The shirt you’d given him is a wreck, and as he bends to snatch up a rubbing alcohol soaked pad, the feeling of shame creeps up on you. The anxiousness that’s settled in the pit of your stomach doesn’t help.

Arguably, it exacerbates the symptom.

The whiskey is slow to make an impact.

But, when Bucky finally swipes the gauze across the wound, your ankles have begun to tingle and it isn’t blinding white pain you feel — not yet. It’s sharp and it feels like he’s touching your shoulder blade when he presses his fingers into the holes to clean the immediate area. That has you grimacing tightly.

His obsidian-hued hand holds your face still through it.

So, you opt to stare.

His arm reminds you of some pottery you’d seen back at the Museum of Modern Art once, on a school trip. In a dimly lit room, spotlights lit up a row of vases that had been gilded back together with gold-dusted sap. You’d sat there for nearly an hour, staring at those things. You can’t remember the name now, not while Bucky does one more pass across the wound. It started with a ‘k’. It was beautiful. You loved that exhibit. Why can’t you — fuck — remember the name? Kinsi… kinsigumi? Gumi. Kintsi —

You grit your teeth and grip the counter tightly. He pauses. You exhale.

You inhale.

Kintsugi.

The seams of his arm remind you of Kintsugi.

It’s beautiful.

Bucky’s eyes flit to yours. He sees your stare.

Maybe it’s the pain, or the half-cocked daze, but the look in your eyes is enough to spur an immediate reaction. Bucky scowls. He yanks his hand back, retreating to the supplies on the counter. He’s pulled, hard and fast, and now he seems miles away.

Quietly, and with a bit more chill than he intended, he speaks. “If it was making you nervous, you should have said something.”

It.

Your head snaps to him.

“What?” you ask, nearly incredulously.

He’s silent. He has the tweezers in his hand now.

Your eyes narrow critically — and instead of shame and anxiety, it’s hurt that flies off your tongue. It’s drenched in enough pain that Bucky hears it in the waver of your voice.

“You think I’m afraid of you?”

It’s nearly a whisper.

He swallows.

He ignores it. He has to. He doesn’t want to know the answer. Either way that conversation goes is enough to drag him into territory he can’t handle right now. Not when he needs to do this without his hands shaking.

“This is going to hurt.”

Your mouth is open — be it shock or anger, he’s not sure. Bucky, however, makes a point of ignoring your expression and your reaction by handing over the whiskey once more. You snatch it from his hands quickly. There’s a look on your face that makes his chest ache. With one last pass over him with your eyes, you take a long swig.

You feel like crying.

You won’t, though. Not now. Not while he does this.

You deserve this.

And holy fucking hell does it hurt. It’s like someone’s taken a hot poker and punctured your skin, then rotated it around and around and around. You can feel every time the tweezers touch the bullet because the metallic little click echoes in your chest. It’s enough to make your head spin, and you grit your teeth and close your eyes and try to breathe — but even after a handful of minutes, when Bucky finally retrieves the slug, there’s no relief. Just a desperate throb.

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the whiskey once more.

You do cry, finally, when Bucky packs the hole.

He rolls the gauze up tightly into a cylinder and, as gently as he can, pushes it in.

It’s a horrible choke of pain that you smother into your palm and pant through. It reminds you to breathe, and while you stare up at the water damage on the kitchen ceiling, Bucky tapes a square piece of gauze over the bruised wound and wraps your shoulder tightly. He takes his time, but there’s a curtness to his actions.

Finally, when he begins to clean up the mess of bloodied gauze, you speak.

“If you’re mad at me, then just say it.”

He snaps almost immediately, like a kicked dog. “And say what, Rabbit? That I almost lost you?”

Your mouth slips shut.

Bucky pauses what he’s doing. He drops the gauze onto the towel and he bares both hands against the counter top. He leans and exhales and drops his own head back — then, you can see his own waves of anxiety knocking him against the shore of composure. His eyes move back and forth, he inhales, and then after a long while he speaks.

It’s calmer. Not so horribly mean.

“You should have told me about Alexei.”

You go to speak — but he stops you.

“I mean really, really told me,” he explains, “Had I known he wanted your fucking head mounted on a spike, I would have kept you far away from that place.”

“We had to—”

“No,” he says sternly, standing up full height, “No, we didn’t. We never have to do anything that’s going to put you in danger. Never. I won’t do it again. You should have fuckin’ told me.”

You’re quiet.

“A few more inches to the right,” he says, gesturing to your throat with his finger. His eyes are expressive and he’s speaking like he’s lived this experience, “You’d be dead. Cold and dead and I’d be here, carrying the fucking guilt around with me because I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

His voice splinters at the end — but he’s moved to throw away the gauze and dump the tweezers in the sink. He can’t look at you as he says it, and you know that. Because, just like before, people like you and him have a hard time looking the truth in the eyes.

You slide off the counter.

Your heart is sad. It’s heavy and mournful and weighed down with guilt.

“Bucky.”

It’s soft. He’s scrubbing your blood from his hands.

He doesn’t turn around. He can’t. He can feel the prick of an anxious breakdown beginning to climb into his eyes. Instead, he scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and your blood is stuck in the plating of his hand and it’s not going to come out—

Think of what could have happened if it had been a few inches to the right. The arched spray. Blood everywhere. She can’t speak through the gargle, she’s going cold, she’s gone. And, like always, you’re alone again, Bucky.

Then, your hands are on his.

The touch is enough to stop him. It’s enough for him to move aside at the large, inset kitchen sink. You exhale slowly as you run the water a little warmer and gingerly run his hands under the tap. Your hands are smaller than his, a bit more delicate, and he’s stunned into a sharp silence at the feeling of your fingertips gently washing away the crimson blood.

You grab another dish towel from a drawer beside the stove.

Then, in the dim light of the kitchen, you take both his hands and dry them.

It’s the vibranium hand that you pay special attention to, though. And Bucky feels like a fucking idiot — just standing there, just watching as you run the rag between the gilded plating and use gentle pressure to get into the harder to reach spots. You turn it over, and you dry his knuckles.

You take your time.

You don’t look up when you speak. You’re focused. Almost reverent.

He doesn’t deserve this.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you say sternly.

His mouth is dry. “Rabbit…”

Bucky shifts on his feet and takes a deep inhale. He feels lightheaded.

The whiskey, and the closeness of the two of you, makes your skin warm. His whole nervous system feels like it’s on fire.

“I didn’t mean to stare, I don’t ever mean to,” you apologize as your hands still over his arm. He watches your irises trace the plating above his wrist. The rag is forgotten, its purpose null. Your words are heavy, and Bucky can hear a little shake in them as you swallow, “I just… think it’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful.

Even now, blood-soaked and sweat-stained. With makeup running down your cheeks and your composure in shambles. Even now, on the run and apparently wanted, you’re incredibly beautiful. Bucky hates how easy it is to admit and how hard it is to keep off his tongue. It nearly gets the better of him. He watches your eyelashes flutter. When you look up at him, the world is suddenly drowned in honey.

“I’m sorry.”

You mean it.

Your bottom lip wobbles.

Bucky, immediately, regrets being so goddamn cold.

You were just trying to help — you were just trying to do the right thing.

“Stop it. Come here.”

The hug is the first time you can remember touching him like this. You think you’ll always remember it, too. It’s sturdy and warm and gentle and honest and you bury your face into the shoulder as his arms come up around your neck. He’s careful of your own injured shoulder, and his fingers find the base of your neck. Around his waist, your fingers dig into the back of his shirt. Both of you ground yourselves in the other’s arms, and for the first time in a handful of hours, you both find peace.

Quiet, sturdy, lovely peace.

And the two of you stay like that for a while in the quiet little kitchen.

It’s not until Climber’s voice rises from the living room that you’re pulled away from Bucky — and even then, your face linger inches from one another for a moment too long. Neither of you say a word, only swallow down confessions that could have been, and move on.

“Oh, girlie, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

Bucky frowns. With your brows knotted tightly together, you weave through the kitchen and back into the living room.

Kiwi has sat up and both her and Climber have their eyes on the bulky flat screen on the dust-covered entertainment center. It’s cable news, and as Climber leans to turn the television up, a picture of you flashes across the screen.

It’s a photo from your arrest six months ago.

“Local authorities are asking that anyone with information on the whereabouts of this young woman call the FBI’s anonymous tip line—”

“Is there a reward?” Climber whispers almost excitedly, eyes on the screen.

“—Authorities are offering $100,000 dollars to the person who provides enough information to lead up to this dangerous fugitive’s capture.”

“Dangerous fugitive?” hisses Bucky.

“A hundred thousand dollars?” cries Kiwi, “Who the fuck did you piss off?”

You inhale deeply as you wave your hands. “The bigger question is who the fuck knew I was going to The Glass Cannon last night. Because they’re looking for me — not you.”

You point at Bucky and the gears are turning in your head.

The pacing is almost immediate, and Bucky crosses his arms tightly as you begin to walk back and forth behind the full length couch that Climber is currently spread out on.

It’s cut short, though, by Kiwi’s laptop chiming successfully.

“Well,” she stands quickly, “I have a feeling that someone knows you’re onto them. And the facial recognition software just got a match. A three point one, too.”

Your eyes brighten.

You’d given Kiwi the photo of the young Innessa, with all her decorated furs and blonde curls. She’s laughing and she’s young and she’s in love and it’s hard for you to imagine a woman like her to be dangerous. While you’d made sure Bucky was propped up comfortably on the couch and then finally calmed down from the adrenaline high enough to get comfortable yourself, Kiwi had dug out the hard-drive she kept on her at all times and began pulling data from the Alexandria Library files.

It had been a handful of hours, so it was clear that Innessa had hid herself well in the vast, expansive database SHIELD kept for all those years while it was in operation.

Bucky is quick to gather behind Kiwi, eyes scanning the screen.

Sure enough, when you come to look at the photos pulled up on Kiwi’s screen, there’s a hit. There’s an identification card photo of an older woman, maybe in her forties, pulled up alongside the photo Bucky had given you. Her hair is no longer blonde, but deep auburn color. She’s marked as having worked with Rumlow — a supervisor of some sort. Makes sense. You didn’t need to see a picture of Crossbones to remember Brock. Even when you’d interned, he’d been infamous.

And that was when he was one of the good guys.

There’s a handful of other photos of her — candids, professional photos, and even one where she is shaking Tony Stark’s hand.

And in all of them, you see your next door neighbor Bonnie McLayne.

“Fuck.”

Bucky blinks. Kiwi turns to look at you over her shoulder.

Again, you speak. Your eyes are wide. You can’t look away from the screen.

“Fuck, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Rabbit…?”

“Fuck.”

Bucky’s face narrows considerably, confusion melting to make room for realization.

His voice is quiet.

“Do you know her?”

“Oh my god,” you say loudly, shaking your head and blinking, “Oh my fucking god, that’s my neighbor.”

Bucky can feel his whole face go clammy.

“The neighbor who—”

“—Who I showed your fucking picture to,” you nearly shriek, “Like it was some cute little matchmaking game!”

Immediately both hands are over your face as you throw your head back. Now, the pacing has begun, and like you’re being carried on autopilot, you begin to move back and forth and back and forth and—

“You don’t think she’d hurt Poke, do you?”

“Rabbit.”

“Oh god, oh god—”

Oh.

Oh, you’re having a panic attack.

Oh, that was quick. Brutally fast. Nearly immediate.

After all, she knows where your family lives. She gets Holiday cards from mom to give to you. She’s been your closest friend for nearly six years. But she’s not Bonnie, she’s Innessa fucking Sidrova. She’s seen you with Bucky. She knows — she knows a lot and you don’t know anything and you’re miles from home, from Poke, from Mom, from Ana… Oh, god, the baby. The baby.

“The baby.”

Bucky’s voice is level. “Rabbit, you gotta calm down.”

“I have to call my mom.”

“No,” Kiwi snaps immediately, “They’re going to be watching for your cell phone pings. No calls, no texting, none of it. And god forbid this woman is one step ahead of the FBI—”

“Oh, god.”

You gasp like a fish out of water, paralyzing fear sending you to lean against the back of the couch.

You claw at your chest and try to remember what Dr. Hart said about these sorts of moments. Square breathing. In and hold and out and hold. Again and again.  

“Sit down,” Bucky says as he returns to your side, nearly sweeping you up long enough to plop you down into the armchair from before, “And do me a favor and breathe.”

The whiskey isn’t helping right now.

“I’m trying.”

Another gasped breath.

Climber and Kiwi watch.

Bucky shakes his head sternly, kneeling on one knee and snagging your hands. “Don’t try. Just do it. You can do it. Just follow my lead — you’re the sidekick, after all. Remember? C’mon. There’s the smile. Breathe.”

So you do.

In, hold. Out, hold. You draw a square with one hand on your jeans and hold onto Bucky’s with the other.

Again, in and hold. Out and hold.

And again.

And then, you just listen to Bucky’s breathing.

You’re not sure how long it takes — half an hour, ten minutes, who knows — but finally you’re able to calm the spiraling thoughts in your head. Finally, the loudness quiets down, you catch your breath, and the world isn’t falling apart. The bite of anxiety still remains in the hollow of your chest and Bucky can see that when you finally open your eyes and squeeze his hand.

There’s that look again between the two of you. The one from before, in the kitchen.

“Good?” he asks quietly, blue eyes swimming with some sort of emotion you can’t really pin down. Not now. Maybe, if you’d been a bit more collected, you would have seen it as infatuation. But, no. It’s just… nice.

You swallow and nod.

“Damn, girl,” says Climber from his spot on the couch, “Now I’m starting to get the whole therapy thing.”

“Thanks, dickhead.”

“That’s recent, isn’t it?” he asks, genuine worry crossing his face as he stands to gently pass a hand over your back, “I don’t remember it ever being this bad.”

Your face is sad. “I was just partying through it back then. Distraction was always the best method and then… When I had no more distractions and it was just me? Alone? And, psh, the accident with Jaimie? It got worse. So much worse.”

Climber’s eyes soften. “I’m sorry, bunny.”

You try to put on a brave face.

Bucky stands from in front of you and begins his own pacing. This one isn’t so much born out of anxious nature — but more of a tactical logic born out of keeping you safe.

This wasn’t exactly the turn he was expecting.

“You didn’t recognize her?” he asks after a moment, voice high and tight.

“I’m sorry,” you wave a hand, exasperated, “She doesn’t exactly look the same as she did in the 70s.”

Kiwi frowns at the screen. “Definitely botox.”

Bucky squints. He looks to you for an explanation.

You vaguely gesture to your face.

His brow lifts, he closes his eyes, and he sighs.

Kiwi is next to pipe up. “It explains why the feds are looking for you, especially if she saw you with the one man she knows is looking to hunt her down — so, I think it’s best the both of you lay low for a couple of days.”

“Not to mention,” Climber wags a finger, “Bucky the Babe over here did just piss off one the smaller Russian crime families in New York. So, there’s always that ontop of the evil Nazi-HYDRA-woman-next-door.”

You groan.

“Poke has enough food for a week,” Bucky says nearly reading your mind, “He’ll be fine.”

“So, what? We just wait here? Until something happens?”

“Sidrova is going to try and bait us out,” Bucky mutters, “She knows she can’t just disappear. She’s been settled for too long and we know too much. Engaging us in an altercation is how she’ll do it. Plus, I have a feeling she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to shoot me in the knees after a few decades. So, we wait.”

“Few decades?” Kiwi whispers.

“How old are you?” Climber asks.

“Hundred and six.”

Both of them just blink at an unphased Bucky.

You sigh, finally standing on wobbly legs. “This feels like a bad idea. I’m just stating that for the record.”

“Better than her hunting the both of you down,” Kiwi supplies, “You can stay here. There’s cable, there’s booze, and there’s plenty of instant ramen to last you until winter.”

“Stale cereal, too.”

“Wait— where are you two going?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, “You’re leaving?”

“Keeping our hands clean,” Kiwi says, closing her laptop, “And letting you be the sidekick, bunny.”

The sadness in your heart grows a little heavier at those words, but there’s a little bit of pride in Kiwi’s tone. As she stands, she moves to wrap her arms around you in a gentle hug. Quietly, she murmurs into your hair.

“Your dad would be proud of you, y’know.”

Bucky watches.

Climber is next, and that hug is bigger, more brotherly, more like sunshine and less like autumn.

“Don’t be a stranger, Rabbit.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out as the two of them gather their belongings, “For dragging you both into this. But, thank you. You didn’t have to help me—”

“Yeah, we did,” Kiwi chirps as she knocks Bucky on the arm three times, “Keep her safe, aakarshak purush.”

The Hindi rolls off her tongue with ease.

Bucky laughs. “Bahut lamba.”

Kiwi pauses mid-step. She narrows her eyes. There’s a smile on her lips. “Your pronunciation isn’t bad.”

He shrugs plainly. “I get lunch almost everyday at the Indian place below my apartment, so. The owner has been teaching me some stuff on the side.”

An approving nod.

Kiwi hucks you the keys across the room.

She points at Bucky.

“I like him. Try not to fuck that up, eh?”

And then, the two of them are gone.

And it’s just you and Bucky in the empty apartment.

[butterflyyeo]

drunk in love

pairing - yeosang x fem reader

genre - fluff, angst (?)

tw - lots of alcohol consumption, swearing

wc - 10k

side ships - seongjoong, yungi

a/n -- was meant to be angst but turned into fluff... im trying my best to get better at writing angst aaaah. but please enjoy this for now <3 thanks for letting me tag you @iminchaosnow !!

------------------------------------------- you had known kang yeosang for nearly two years now. two, dreadfully slow and exhausting years.it was your final year of high school when he transferred to your school, he was a close family friend of wooyoung's. his parents had spoken highly of the school, insisting that yeosang transfers in order to excel for his last year of schooling. as far as you were concerned, he had decent grades, but he preferred to spend his time hanging around the skatepark after dark, when everyone else had left.

and in all the two years you'd known him, you had never once had a full conversation with him, despite being in your group of friends. his side of the 'conversation' usually consisted of monotonous 'yeahs' and 'mhms'. wooyoung constantly assured you it was because he's shy and that he'd eventually open up. but you weren't convinced. you tried so hard for him to like you, but your efforts were fruitless. it was infuriating, feeling like you were constantly doing something wrong whenever you were around him.

you currently found yourself in the backseat of yeosang's car, wedged between a drunken yunho and mingi while a chaotic wooyoung was singing along to his chosen playlist. (though, it sounded more like wailing.)

you and the eight boys had all decided to take a gap year, spend every last cent you earned on adventure and alcohol to make lifelong memories, before your careers became a blockade in your friendship. but the year was coming to an end soon, it was already mid november. on the bright side, that meant your favourite holidays were just weeks away.

yeosang was always the designated driver. that was something you had noticed about him over the last few years. to be honest, you weren't sure just how he coped with a screeching wooyoung, because you sure as hell weren't dealing very well with yunho and mingi who were playing a very intense game of rock paper scissors to decide who would be crashing on the couch in your apartment.

"i win!" mingi cheered, waving his hands excitedly. "you're on the couch, man."

yunho frowned, "damn."

you laughed, "it's okay, yunho. you can share the bed with me if you'd like."

"hey! that's not fair y/n! you said i could this time." wooyoung whined from the front seat.

"sorry, woo. you know i keep my promises, but you're going back to your apartment. remember?" you tried to reason.

wooyoung looked as though someone had switched a lightbulb on behind his eyes, "oh yeah! i forgot."

the four of you burst into laughter, mainly caused by the alcohol and partially because of wooyoung's realisation. and still, yeosang didn't crack a smile, hands just gripping the steering wheel tighter as his knuckles turned white.

soon, you arrived outside your apartment block, quickly stepping out the car after yunho. wooyoung wound his window down and you poked your head in, attempting to hug him goodbye.

"bye woo!" you said, giggling at your faltered farewell.

"good night y/n, thanks for the drinks!" he shouted, exclaiming a bit too loudly next to your ear.

"thanks for the lift as always, yeosang!" you yelled, pulling away from wooyoung's tight hug.

he nodded, "no problem." before putting the window up and driving away.

you pouted, turning around to face the two boys. "i just don't understand what i'm doing wrong." you buried your face into your hands, "why doesn't he like me?" you groaned.

"y/n." mingi began, "its nearly 1am, its way too late for this 'why does yeosang hate me?' crap." he shook your shoulders, literally trying to shake some sense into you.

"yeah, mingi's right. we've had this discussion a thousand times." yunho said grasping your wrist and pulling you up the stairs, stumbling along the way. (because lets be real, stairs are difficult enough as it is, let alone when drunk.) "now, let us into your apartment so we can eat your food and crash on your couch!" he joked, nudging mingi in a playful manner.

you reached into your pocket and fumbled around with they key for a moment before unlocking the door. the boys practically pushed you inside and made a beeline for the fridge.

"help yourselves! i'm going to shower." you called, dragging yourself to your bedroom.

once you'd finished showering you went back to the living room to check on yunho and mingi. not so much to your surprise, they had fallen asleep on your couch already, cuddled up into each other. it was cute, even picture worthy to show their sober selves. you reached for your phone which typically lived in your pocket, though you began to panic when it wasn't there. hurrying around the apartment, you searched every possible nook and cranny for your phone, but it was nowhere to be found. you collapsed onto your bed, snuggling into the soft sheets, too tired to worry about your phone anymore and content with the assumption that you'd left it in yeosang's car.

shortly, your heavy eyes fell shut and you began to sleep away the tequila.

————————

the next morning you awoke to mingi and yunho's deep, hungover voices, discussing their plans for the next week.

you reluctantly pulled yourself out of bed and dawdled down the hallway.

"ah! there's our favourite karaoke partner!" yunho greeted, jokingly.

you laughed, "shh, don't let wooyoung hear you say that."

"she's right, man. he'd be so offended." mingi said, stretching out his sore limbs. "how are you feeling today, y/n?" he asked.

"not the worst hangover i've had. what about you guys? you're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like, until you feel better." you replied, knowing them well enough to know that they'd need at least a few painkillers and a good meal before they went home.

yunho chuckled, "i feel like crap, but nothing a sandwich and glass of water can't solve."

"i second that." mingi said, raising a hand.

"okay, well in that case, i'll go to the store and get something for breakfast. sound good?" you reasoned, running a hand through your hair. you loved these boys, and making them breakfast was just a nice way of showing you cared. drunk or not, they knew how to make you smile and laugh, which they loved to see.

"sounds amazing!" yunho said, breaking into a sincere smile.

you quickly changed out of your pyjamas and slipped some shoes on.

"i might be a bit longer, i need to stop by yeosang's. i think i left my phone in his car." you explained, picking your keys up from the kitchen counter. "see you guys soon! feel free to take a shower if you want." you said, waving goodbye and heading out the door.

"okay, bye y/n!" the boys called from behind you.

the first stop was yeosang's apartment, he only lived about ten minutes away with wooyoung and san, in the same building as jongho. both yunho and mingi lived on the other side of town, which is why they so often crashed at your place after parties. seonghwa and hongjoong were fortunate enough to live in a house, just outside town, they had actually been the hosts of last night's party.

it didn't take long to get there. you pushed open the lobby door and made your way over to the elevator, disappointed to see that it was out of order for maintenance. instead, you took the stairs and began spiralling upwards. less than a minute later you looked up, only to bump into the man you came looking for.

"oh, yeosang! i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to." you quickly apologised, worried about creating another reason for him to dislike you.

"it's fine." he shrugged.

you both began to talk again at the same time, "ah, sorry, you go."

"i was just gonna say, you left your phone in my car. actually, i was about to bring it back." he pulled your phone from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to you. as he did, your fingers brushed against his. he spun around suddenly and began to walk away, "i'll see you around."

he had left before you even had a chance to thank him. slightly confused and frustrated, you turned back around and traipsed down the stairs.

you gathered what you needed for a hearty breakfast at the local convenience store before heading home and spending the rest of the day in the enjoyable company of yunho and mingi.

yeosang had entered back into his apartment and sat down on the couch.

"back already?" wooyoung asked, rummaging through the fridge.

"she was coming to get her phone and i ran into her on the staircase."

wooyoung sighed, "when are you gonna stop hating her?"

"i don't hate her." yeosang said, not looking up from his phone.

"then why do you act like you do?"

yeosang pretended to not hear that question and continued to scroll through his phone. see, he'd rather not dwell on things that he couldn't understand.

————————

to fill up your weekdays during your gap year, you had picked up a job at a hotel in town as a receptionist. to your dismay, your boss had asked you to work night shift all week, which is how you found yourself here on thursday night, sitting alert and waiting for the slight chance that someone might check in at this time of night. it was a pretty fancy hotel, and the job payed well enough, so really, you had nothing to complain about.

the nights seemed to drag on for an eternity. to keep yourself busy, you often wasted time counting the cars that drove past, or tried to count the number of crystals that hung from the chandelier. so far, only a few people had checked in during your shift, having come from overseas and recently arriving at the airport. honestly, whenever someone walked through the front door, lugging a suitcase behind them, you got excited as it gave you something to do.

the clock was creeping up to 4am and you let out a quiet yawn, feeling drowsy as your body clock hadn't yet adjusted to the change of sleeping patterns on such short notice. taking a sip of water, you shook your head, trying to stay awake. your head suddenly jolted up at the sound of the front door opening.

a man stumbled forward, and you'd seen enough zombie movies to become instantly paranoid. you quickly pushed the thought out of your head, feeling ridiculous for even considering it. but as the man got closer, you could smell the cheap, potent alcohol lingering on his body.

he leant against the desk, peering down at you. "i need a room for the night."  he grumbled. "my stupid wife kicked me out." he said under his breath.

you forced a friendly smile, despite feeling uneasy, "of course! i just need you to fill in this form with some simple details." you said, sliding across a clipboard and a pen.

he huffed, picking up the pen and scribbling onto the sheet of paper before pushing it back to you. "can i go now?"

"just a moment, sir." you replied, eyes skimming over the form as you copied the information into the computer in front of you.

the man was growing impatient, stepping from foot to foot with his arms crossed.

"uh, sir, you missed a part of the form. could you please provide your phone number here." you pointed to the empty space on the sheet.

"for fucks sake." he muttered, "i don't have my phone on me and i don't know my phone number." he said, annoyedly tapping on the desk.

"i'm really sorry, sir, but—"

"can't you just find me a fucking room?" he snapped, hands balled into fists and slamming against the desk, making you jump in fright.

before you had time to try and reason with him, he continued to shout.

"you're as stupid as my wife! i'll just find a different fucking hotel." he yelled, swiping the clipboard and pen off the desk. "useless bitch." he mumbled as he kicked over a chair on his way out.

you chewed your bottom lip, trying to fight back the tears. with shaky hands, you picked up your phone and dialled the first place that came to mind. after a few rings, the phone answered.

"woo?" you croaked, trying hard to not cry.

"he's asleep. this is yeosang." he replied, evidently having just woken up by the sound of his voice.

"oh." you began, instantly feeling guilty for waking him up, "i'm sorry i didn't mean to disturb you."

"did you need something?" he asked.

"i just, i was..." you let out a sob, wiping at a tear falling from your eye.

this didn't go unnoticed by yeosang, "are you crying? what are you doing awake right now anyway?"

"i'm at work." you managed to choke out.

"at 4am?"

"i'm on night shift."

"why are you crying then?" he asked, feeling something slightly tug at his heart, but choosing to ignore it.

you began to ramble, "a man came in and he was really drunk and complaining about his wife and then he yelled at me because i asked him to give his phone number and—"

"i'm on my way." yeosang cut you off.

"what?"

"i'll be there in ten." with that, he hung up the phone.

exactly ten minutes later, you were sat in the passenger seat of yeosang's car. he was dressed in sweats, clearly having come straight from bed. you'd left a note on the desk, explaining to your coworker why you wouldn't be there when she arrived to take over your shift. a silence filled the car, and you felt the need to talk, but chose not to, worried about giving yeosang another reason to hate you.

once you arrived outside your apartment building, you were surprised that yeosang got out the car too and trailed closely behind you up the stairs to your apartment. when you reached the door you spun around to face him.

"thank you for bringing me home." you said, voice quiet and still rather shaken up.

"it's no problem. good night, y/n." he replied, sensing that you were still upset. he suddenly felt this overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around you tightly and not let go until you stopped crying. he wanted to protect you from every drunk idiot on the planet. he wanted to make you feel safe.

but instead, he watched as you closed the door behind you and locked it from inside.

————————

you arrived at work the next morning, instantly feeling more comfortable with cleaners, employees and people coming and going. immediately, you headed for your boss's office.

"good morning, sir. i just wanted to come and apologise for leaving my shift early last night. i can assure you it won't happen again." you said, feeling nervous as to what your boss might say.

he shook his head, "i should be the one apologising, a man came in this morning and spoke very sternly about the safety problems here. i realise now how stupid it was of me to make you work night shift, alone, at such a young age. we've hired security guards and have also made sure that two people will be on desk at all times. i'm sorry that you had to deal with that."

you were at a loss for words, you didn't think that there would be such drastic changes just from the once incident. "thank you so much." you replied.

"for now, take the rest of the day off. you'll only be working day shifts for next week and can return to doing night shifts whenever you feel ready to do so." your boss said, motioning for the door.

the rest of the day you spent in deep sleep, catching up on some much overdue rest.

———————

weeks passed and you found that work was much more enjoyable. you still hadn't returned to working night shifts, but at least now you had someone to run the front desk with you and keep you company.

this weekend, you were going to visit hongjoong and seonghwa. hongjoong was sick and so you decided to go help out since seonghwa couldn't always be there to look after him.

you knocked on their front door and was surprised to be greeted by san.

"good afternoon! come in." he gave you a hug before ushering you inside.

"what are you doing here?" you said, following him down the hall.

in the living room, you saw all eight of the boys gathered around a couch-ridden hongjoong.

"jongho was already here when me, yeosang and woo arrived." san explained.

"yeah, and then mingi and yunho turned up." wooyoung continued.

"y/n! i have never been more glad to see you! you gotta save me from them." hongjoong laughed, arms open, signalling for a hug.

you went over and embraced him in a hug, "good thing i brought an excessive amount of cookies." you said, placing the box of cookies on the coffee table next to the couch. the table was covered in empty mugs and bowls, you could tell seonghwa had been busy and hadn't had the chance to clean up. you opened up the box and handed him a cookie before offering them around to the rest of the boys.

"you're the best cook ever." mingi said, taking a big bite.

"i made you spaghetti last night!" yunho countered, feeling offended that his roommate didn't think he was the better cook. mingi just laughed and took another bite.

"jongho get off the counter, please." seonghwa said, coming through the front door. "don't be so comfortable, you were throwing up in my toilet like a month ago." he joked.

yeosang glanced your way, his eyebrows furrowed like he was contemplating something.

"lets head off and give these two some space." yunho said, dragging mingi behind him.

wooyoung stood up, "yeah, lets get going."

yeosang pulled his keys from his pocket, "okay, bye guys." he said, heading down the hallway.

"can we get some food on the way home?" you heard san call as they left.

"bye hongjoong! i hope you're feeling better soon." jongho said, "bye seonghwa, i promise i won't throw up in your toilet any time soon." he joked, leaving through the front door.

"seonghwa, how are you? don't forget to take some time for yourself as well." you frowned.

"i'm tired, but i'll be okay. i just gotta clean up and—"

"why don't you go rest a while? i can keep hongjoong company for a few hours." you reasoned, wanting to help as much as possible. there was nothing you hated more than seeing you friends in distress and upset.

he looked between hongjoong and yourself, "i couldn't."

hongjoong let out an audible huff, "hwa! will you just let her help please, she clearly wants to."

you grinned, "exactly, now go read or sleep or watch some tv or something." you said, gently pushing him towards their shared bedroom.

you spent the afternoon tidying up and talking with hongjoong. you managed to do all the dishes and put them away before scouring their kitchen, deciding on what you could use for dinner. you found everything you needed for a decent meal and began cooking it up. hongjoong had dozed off mid conversation, surrounded in a pile of tissues, you chose to let him sleep so he would recover quicker.

about an hour later, you placed two steamy hot meals onto their dining table next to two full glasses of water. you quietly knocked on their bedroom door, finding seonghwa asleep amongst the covers.

you gently shook him awake, "hwa, i made dinner for you guys. you can wake joong up, i'll head off now." you said with a smile.

leaving the two of them to enjoy their dinner, you headed home and cooked yourself something to eat. it was nice having some time to yourself, but saturday nights were becoming more and more empty as winter grew closer. december was only days away and the year would soon come to an end. you reached for the phone, suddenly desperately missing your friends despite only seeing them hours ago.

"hey woo, are you free next weekend?" you asked.

he paused a moment, "i think so, why?"

"you wanna go out with the others? it's been a while since we have all caught up for drinks."

"count me in!" wooyoung cheered.

you called everyone else up and they all agreed, even hongjoong promised to come if he was feeling better.

————————

you found yourself surrounded by wooyoung, san, yunho and mingi as the music blared. it was a less popular club on the far side of town but it was a comfortable place for you all. you often came here for drinks and the staff members knew you, quite well, a little too well. san grabbed your hand and spun you around a few times with the music.

you laughed, leaning against him, "maybe spinning around isn't the best idea right after two shots of vodka."

"what?" san yelled into your ear, struggling to hear you over the music.

you laughed louder, pulling him closer to you, "i said, spinning is not a good idea after drinking vodka!"

"oh!" he joined you in laughing before trying to twirl you around once more.

hongjoong and seonghwa sat at the bar, holding hands and being intimate as always. yeosang was sat next to jongho at a booth, quietly talking with him, but from the corner of your eye, you saw jongho stand up and walk away. your eyes watched him worriedly and you couldn't help but run after him. you followed him as best you could, stumbling every now and then. he'd gone to the bathroom so you patiently waited outside until he came back, looking slightly pale.

you practically leapt at him, doing a quick scan to make sure he was okay, "jongho? are you alright?"

he smiled at your overwhelming concern, "yeah, i just drank too much as usual. i'll be alright, you can go back to dancing."

"let me just get you some water first. i'll be right back okay?" you patted his shoulder. "don't go anywhere i'll be back in a second."

you made your way back to where jongho had been sitting with yeosang. as you approached, yeosang eyed you up and down, taking in your drunken state, though, it wasn't the first time he'd seen you this way. you nearly tripped as you reached the table, struggling to walk in heels.

"i need a glass of water, do you have a glass of water? jongho needs a glass of water." you mumbled to yourself, reaching for the jug in the center of the table.

"are you okay?" yeosang asked, quickly pushing your hand away from the jug.

"i'm okay, but jongho needs water. can i take this cup? he's waiting for me, i told him not to go anywhere, i need to get back to jongho—" you tried to pick up a glass but yeosang pressed your hand back down once more.

"i'll take it to him, you stay here." he said, filling the cup full with water and heading towards the bathrooms.

your brain suddenly felt fuzzy and your eyes became blurry, it was like the alcohol hit your system all at once. your head spun round and round and you leaned forward, resting your hands on your head. you'd never felt this sick from drinking, maybe you'd had too much too quickly, maybe it was the spinning. there was no way to tell, all you knew was that you felt like you were about to fall from the top of a very high roller coaster.

your eyes felt increasingly heavy, you allowed them to slip shut, head falling to the table with a not so gentle thud.

"y/n?" someone shook you, "y/n wake up!" it was wooyoung.

"shit, is she okay? should we call an ambulance?" jongho said, reaching for his phone.

"is she breathing? has anyone checked?" seonghwa gently lifted your shoulders and sat you upright, relieved to see the rise and fall of your chest. "we should call a taxi and get her home."

"are you crazy? she's unconscious, she won't be able to get up the stairs to her apartment! what if the driver is dodgy? she's already had to deal with shitty men while working night shift, imagine if something happened while she's drunk!" yeosang blurted out. the boys were shocked over his sudden concern for you. yeosang had never once shown any interest or care for you in the presence of them.

"well, what should we do then?" mingi asked, worriedly running a hand through his hair.

"i'll take her, you've all been drinking." yeosang concluded. "she'll be fine, don't worry. enjoy the rest of your night, okay? i've dealt with woo passing out before remember?"

"that's true." san said, throwing a light hearted glare in wooyoung's direction, who showed a rather sheepish expression.

the boys went back to their drinks, taking it a little slower now and yeosang carried you to his car. it wasn't easy, but he managed to sit you upright in the back seat of his car with his rear view mirror aimed directly at you so he could make sure you were okay.

he was able to lift you up the stairs and get your house key from the pocket of your jacket, which would've looked questionable to anyone else, but he had the best intentions. he sat you down in a dining chair, watching as your head lolled forward and your body slumped. he quickly filled a glass of water and came back to you.

"y/n." he whispered, resting a hand on your shoulder. "y/n." he said again, louder this time.

the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but you weren't waking up and that was becoming concerning. he shook your shoulder, as gently as he possible could in a moment like this, and to his relief, your eyes hesitantly opened.

your head felt like a bowling ball and you groaned quietly. "yeosang?"

"here." he said holding the cup to your lips, allowing you to take a small sip.

"how did we get here?" you mumbled, head rolling to the side.

he caught your head and carefully pushed you back upright, "i drove you, this is your apartment."

"oh." you said, eyes drooping shut again. "oh." you repeated.

"y/n, i really need you to stay awake right now." he said, bringing the cup to your mouth again. "lets talk."

"we never talk!" you exclaimed. "this is the longest conversation we've ever had!"

"i know." he said, pulling up a chair to sit directly in front of you. yeosang felt that slight tug at his heart again tonight, the way you sounded so excited just to talk with him.

"no, no, no." you whined, "this is so bad!"

"what is it?"

you pouted before nervously biting your lip, "i'm really sorry."

"for what?" he questioned, leaning back in his chair.

"for ruining your night and making you stay here with me! now you just have another reason to hate me." you sighed, letting your head fall into your hands.

"i could never hate you." he said, voice barely above a whisper.

but you had fallen back asleep, so yeosang sat you upright once more and monitored you closely all night. with every minute that passed, he wished more and more that it was easier for him to show his emotions, to you especially. he wondered if maybe he wasn't so closed off that things would be different between the two of you. but it was hard for him, to let people in, he was afraid. afraid of people judging the real him, afraid of what might happen if he lets himself become vulnerable, afraid of facing his feelings about you.

you awoke hours later with a raging headache and extreme nausea. you headed straight for the bathroom and hunched over the toilet, feeling the sickest you'd ever felt. yeosang waited patiently outside the bathroom door with a glass of water and painkillers.

when you came out, he held his hand out, "take this."

you looked down at his hand and then up at him, slightly confused, "what are you doing here?"

"you passed out last night, and i drove you home because everyone else had been drinking." he said, passing the glass of water.

"oh my god." you ran a hand through your hair, "yeosang, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to be any trouble! you must of been here all night, i promise it won't happen again, that was so stupid of me—"

"it's fine, don't worry about it." he said, shrugging, "i'll get going now, but make sure you take it easy and drink enough water." his eyes carefully scanned your body one last time, making sure you were really okay. he headed for the door and you followed.

"i'm really sorry." you frowned, feeling as though no amount of apologies would make it up to him.

he let out a slight chuckle, "it's okay, seriously y/n." he said before leaving. you heard the all too familiar jingle of his keys as the door closed behind him.

he'd stayed with you all night, eyes watching over you closely. ready at your side whenever you stirred in your sleep. he'd been there in the morning prepared with water and painkillers. this was never how it was, usually this was your job, taking care of the boys. it was your way of showing you cared, helping out wherever possible.

this wasn't like yeosang. at all.

————————

as soon as yeosang got home he was greeted by a very concerned san and wooyoung.

"is she okay?"

"are you tired?"

"did she wake up?"

he was bombarded by questions.

"she's okay, she fell asleep after a while and i made her take some painkillers when she woke up." yeosang said, collapsing onto the couch.

"so you really don't hate her then." wooyoung thought aloud.

"he can't, he spent the whole night looking after her!" san said, hitting wooyoung like it was obvious.

"owww," wooyoung rubbed his arm, "even she thinks you don't like her!"

"i know, she said last night. but she probably won't remember saying that." yeosang said, feeling increasingly drowsy from his lack of sleep.

"maybe you guys should like, talk things out?" san suggested, taking a seat next to him.

"maybe." yeosang said, drifting off into sleep.

you had spent the day curled up in bed, wondering how you could make it up to yeosang, and there was nothing more you wanted than to get to know him better, but what would he want? you called up san on that thought.

"hey sannie," you said, "i need your help, actually, is woo there as well?"

"oh my god she's alive!" you heard wooyoung call from beside san.

"what do you need help with?" san asked.

you paused a moment, "is yeosang there?"

"well yes, but he's asleep."

you groaned, "i feel so bad that he stayed up all night looking after me. i really wanna make it up to him but i don't know how. plus, it's not like he's that fond of me. maybe i should just thank him by staying out of his space."

"i don't think he'd like that." wooyoung interjected. "i still think he just needs time before opening up to you."

"i think its just me." you sighed, worriedly chewing on your bottom lip.

"hey! don't be like that! there's no reason to not like you." san scolded you for down talking yourself as he always does.

"agreed." wooyoung said, chiming in.

"i'm sure i'll work something out. thanks guys! enjoy the rest of your day!" you said.

"good luck!"

"bye y/n!"

————————

you had been staring at your phone for at least an hour, typing and retyping the message to yeosang. wooyoung gave you his number so that you could contact him when you'd finally worked out how to make it up to him. in the end, you decided that you would let him decide.

you drew in a sharp breath and squeezed your eyes tightly shut as you pressed send.

you: hey yeosang, i still feel really bad about the other day, i wanna know how i can make it up to you !!

yeosang: did wooyoung give you my number? T~T

you: yes he did.. i hope thats okay !

yeosang: of course yeosang: how about you make it up to me over a cup of coffee? >.<

you: that sounds great !! you: when are you free ?

yeosang: does tomorrow morning work for you ? i can pick you up ^_^

you: of course ! i'll see you tomorrow :)

yeosang sat in his room, facepalming. why was it so easy to be more open over text?

you on the other hand, felt your heart swell in a bizarre way. maybe it was the way you hadn't expected him to use such cute little emoticons. maybe it was the way that you'd be able to have a full conversation with him. whatever it was, excitement had taken over you.

————————

a knock pounded at your door and you rushed to open it.

"ready to go?" he asked, leaning against the door frame coolly.

"yes, lets go!" you said, sounding a little too excited.

the two of you made your way down the stairs and into yeosang's car. you found yourself smiling as you looked out the window.

your excitement hadn't gone unnoticed, "you seem awfully excited."

"i really wanted to make it up to you," you beamed. "it must've been boring to watch over me all night."

"i didn't mind so much." he said, shrugging.

you frowned, "you shouldn't of done it."

"and leave you passed out in the club?" he quirked an eyebrow up at you.

"well..."

"exactly." he said, parking the car outside a small cafe nearby his apartment. "come on, lets go inside."

you followed him in and took a seat across from him at a table close to the window. you both ordered coffees and resumed conversation.

"so, where were we?" you smiled, taking a sip of coffee.

"talking about how you wanted me to leave you passed out in the club." he said. you were almost convinced you saw a teasing smile pulling at his lips.

"right. i'm so sorry about that."

this time he actually chuckled, and you were taken aback. it was like the wall yeosang had surrounding himself was crumbling before your eyes.

"you need to apologise less." he laughed, bringing his coffee cup to his mouth for a sip. "half of the time we talk its just you saying sorry to me."

"i'm so—"

"hey!" the two of you broke into laughter.

his laugh was loud but warm and you couldn't help but notice the way his nose scrunched up cutely, the way his eyes looked full of stars and the way he brushed his hair out of his eyes after, revealing his beautiful birthmark. from that point on, you wanted to be the one to make him laugh every day.

he felt that familiar tug at his heart, the one he'd been feeling every moment he spent alone with you. the one he felt when he first met you. the one he couldn't make any sense of. it was as though his heart was a violin and you were the one playing it. (which would explain the tugging feeling.) but you were playing the sweetest song and he never wanted it to end.

the two of you laughed the morning away, gradually making up for what you'd missed over two years in a matter of two hours.

you'd discovered that even after getting him to open up more, he wasn't one for words. you found yourself talking his ear off while he listened intently, occasionally sharing his opinions and stories. in all his honesty, he didn't mind listening to you talk. he could've sat there all day, drinking countless cups of coffee, watching the way you bit your bottom lip whenever you paused to think or the way your eyes filled with sparkles when you talked about something that made you happy.

you insisted on paying for the infinite cups of coffee, as it was your way of making it up to him. he reluctantly agreed, but promised that he would pay if there ever was a next time, which he secretly hoped there would be. he'd finally had the chance to let his walls down. (it was actually more like you'd climbed the walls and torn them down with your bare hands.) but he was thankful for it.

he drove you back to your apartment, even after you persisted on walking home, seeing as it wasn't that far. he refused, insisting that he drive you. he even followed you up the stairs to the door of your apartment.

you turned around to face him, "you know, you're not so bad when you actually wanna talk to me."

"you know, you're not so bad when you're not drunk." he countered, his lips breaking into a playful grin.

you glared jokingly, "hey! don't make me apologise again."

"okay, okay. i won't." he said, raising his hands in defence.

you smiled, resting against the door, "alright, well, i've really enjoyed hanging out with you today. maybe we should catch up more often."

"maybe we should." he said, bearing a coy smile, "bye, y/n. i'll see you around."

————————

it was only about a week later he showed up at your work, at the end of your shift. you were pleasantly surprised to see him, and at first thought he was just someone coming to book a room.

"hello, are you looking for a r— yeosang?"

"when do you get off work?" he asked, glancing over to the clock.

"five minutes."

"i'll be waiting in the car, okay?" he said, turning on his heel and heading for the door.

on his way out, you saw as he ran into your boss, the two of them beginning conversation.

"it's good to see you've made those security changes." yeosang said as he nodded, extending his arm for a friendly handshake. "i'm very thankful."

your boss shook his hand, "and i'm thankful that you suggested them."

just over five minutes later you got into the passenger seat of yeosang's car.

"it was you who told my boss about the safety problems." you said, in near disbelief.

"hello, to you too." he joked sarcastically. "well, i would hate to think that the situation could happen again, so i just suggested some possible improvements. thats all." he shrugged like it was nothing.

"suddenly, i feel the need to make it up to you again." you smiled shyly.

"you can do that by accompanying me to the skate park." he said, motioning to his skateboard on the back seat.

"ah, so thats why you came."

"well yeah, i wanted to bring you to the skate park."

your heart swelled once again, feeling joyed that he wanted to share one of his favourite places with you. (despite him never telling you directly, you knew he loved the skate park as he spent majority of his high school time there when he wasn't studying.)

when you arrived, the sun was beginning to slip behind the horizon, causing the sky to glow a rosy pink. there were still a few kids, probably high schoolers, hanging around the park. you took a seat at a bench and waited for yeosang to come over, who was getting his skateboard out the car. you felt oddly out of place since you were still in your neat work uniform and didn't know the first thing about skateboarding.

yeosang rolled over with a grin plastered onto his face, you'd never seen him so happy, and it made you happy to see him this way. it was strange how all it took was a few cups of coffee for him to become a completely different person around you.

he didn't need to ask you to watch as your eyes were already glued to him as he dropped into the bowl, showing countless tricks and flips.

the truth was in fact that yeosang was grateful for you 'making it up to him'. he'd never been able to comprehend his feelings for you, if they were even feelings at all. he hated the confusion and decided it was easier to ignore it, and to an extent, ignore you, to make it go away. it had been working for the most part, until every time the two of you were alone together, he couldn't ignore the slight tug at his heart, that was becoming more of a pull over the last few weeks.

"you're amazing!" you cheered as he sat down next to you, out of breath.

"thanks." he smiled shyly, running a hand through his hair and out of his face. he leaned back, looking up at the sky. "do you sometimes wish you could see the stars from within the city? hongjoong and seonghwa are so lucky they can see them from their house."

you pondered a moment, thinking about the last time you actually saw stars in the sky. "i see stars in your eyes sometimes." you said, absent minded.

he felt warmth burning in his cheeks, "you do?"

"do what?" you turned to him, "did i say that out loud?" you gasped, covering your face in embarrassment. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to say that it was just a thought and—"

"what did i say about apologising?" he laughed. "it's getting cold, right? you ready to head home?" he asked.

you smiled, "if you are."

he drove you home and said goodbye, feeling happy about spending time alone with you once again. he couldn't stop thinking about what you said and you couldn't stop feeling like a fool for saying it.

————————

the weather got colder and colder and soon it began to snow as the days of december passed. you had spent the day helping jongho move some new furniture into his apartment. it was a difficult job, but easier with the two of you, even san and wooyoung came to help. you couldn't resist wondering where yeosang was and why he didn't come, seeing as they lived in the same building. maybe he was busy, you thought.

"hey, where's yeosang?" you asked, lifting a box and placing it on the kitchen counter.

"at home, i think he's been feeling sick or something, he hardly comes out of his room lately." wooyoung shrugged, assuming it was all good.

"if he's sick i'll bring him over some food and painkillers, maybe keep him some company." you explained, not wanting yeosang to be unwell.

"i think he'd rather be left alone, to be honest." san said, giving wooyoung a side glance that you couldn't miss.

you pulled out your phone and sent yeosang a quick message.

you: are you feeling okay? san and woo said you were sick :((

he didn't respond right away and you just figured he was asleep. but as you finished helping out at jongho's house a few hours later, he still hadn't responded. when you were sitting down to eat dinner at home, he still hadn't respond. just before you were going to turn the lights out and go to bed, he still hadn't responded.

something was up. this wasn't like yeosang, not anymore. not since the two of you had been spending so much time together. maybe it was like the boys said, and he was truly very sick, but in that case, why wouldn't they let you help?

————————

days passed and you went to work as usual, repeating the same few lines, asking people if they want a room, asking them to fill in a form, then directing them to the right room. days passed and you still hadn't heard back from yeosang, you wondered if he was still sick. days passed and you began to think maybe you should go over there to see if he's okay.

but if there was one thing you'd learnt about yeosang recently, it was that he was the quieter type, and probably wouldn't appreciate you going over there to keep him company and would rather be alone. so that evening when you got off work, you didn't go visit him like you so desperately wanted to, instead, you went straight home.

you cooked and ate dinner for yourself, before picking up your phone, only to see still no messages from yeosang.

you: hey woo you: is yeosang feeling better ?

wooyoung: yeah he is

you: well then can i come visit tomorrow ?

wooyoung: i think he's busy wooyoung: sorry

you: its okay woo you: its not your fault !!

you switched your phone off and headed for the shower, trying to wash away the stress and worry for yeosang that had built up over the last few weeks. you had really grown to like him and there was still so much about him you wanted to learn, like when he learned to skateboard or how he got the small scar on the back of his hand, that you'd noticed when ever he brushes his hair out of his eyes.

two years he'd spent, not interested in holding conversation with you and two years you'd spent, wondering what you'd did so wrong. but lately, you felt like you were doing something right around him, getting him to smile and laugh, share his own stories.

you couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he still didn't like you, and had just been trying for wooyoung's sake.

or maybe he was genuinely starting to like you, but you went and fucked it up by weirding him out and telling him about his starry eyes.

or maybe he'd just had enough of you already. decided that a few weeks was enough time spent trying to change things between the two of you.

as you finished showering and changed into comfortable clothes, you glanced at the clock which read 10:56pm. you switched on the television to watch some youtube before going to bed. as you felt yourself dozing off, a faint knock sounded at your door, so quiet you almost missed it.

when you opened the door, you were shocked to see yeosang standing there, leaning against the door frame for support. he looked up at you, his normally starry eyes were dulled with tears.

you rushed forward to him, smelling the alcohol as you got closer, "yeosang are you okay? what are you doing here? i thought you were sick. are you drunk? you never drink, come inside." you gently pulled him inside, closing the door behind you. when you turned to face him, he was staring at you, tears about to spill over the brim of his eyes.

"i hate you." he breathed out, voice barely louder than a whisper. he didn't seem angry though, he looked fragile, like a glass vase balancing on the edge of a table.

you felt the urge to cry, finally hearing those three words that confirmed your biggest concern, yeosang disliking you. "yeosang, i'm so sorry. i never meant to—"

"i hate you." he said, louder this time before running a hand through his hair hastily. he let out a frustrated groan, dragging his hands down his face. "i hate the tugging feeling in my heart whenever we're alone. i hate the way you put yourself before others. i hate the way you ramble on when you're nervous. i hate the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh. i hate the way i don't drink around you because i feel the need to protect you and make sure you're safe. i hate the way i tried to ignore you for two years because i was scared and confused about my own feelings. i hate how it only took one cup of coffee with you for my walls to come crashing down!" he paced from side to side, waving his hands around crazily.

yeosang looked scared and lost, like he'd never felt this way about anyone before, and that was the truth. he didn't know how to comprehend these feelings and it terrified him.

you watched as he spiralled, seeming as though it would never stop. you weren't sure what to do, so you just listened to that swelling feeling in your heart once again, the one that had led you to develop feelings for yeosang, and you pulled him close into your arms. he clung onto you tightly, scared to let go, like if he did then he'd lose you forever. you ran your fingers through his hair briefly, trying your best to comfort him.

"i'm sorry." you repeatedly whispered to him. you'd never meant to upset him or confuse him.

yeosang let out a quiet sob into your chest, "i hate the way i've fallen in love with you." he croaked out.

he didn't hate you. never did. never will. your heart swelled completely in your chest, feeling as though it would burst through. but it couldn't be true. he's totally drunk out of his mind.

"you're not in your right mind, yeosang, you need to get home. you're drunk and talking nonsense." you embraced him tightly one more time, and you could've sworn you felt the beat of his heart through the hug. "come on," you urged, steering him towards the door, "wooyoung and san are probably worried and waiting up for you."

with much effort, you led him down the stairs of your apartment block and walked him home. the street lamps led you in the freezing city night air. you held his wrist lightly, guiding him up the stairs to his own apartment. he didn't speak a single word the whole time, instead, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. it hurt you so much to see him this broken, but you knew he wasn't saying the truth under control of the alcohol in his veins.

you knocked at his apartment door, hoping that one of the boys were still awake. luckily, they both were and quickly they flung the door open.

"y/n? yeosang?" san questioned, his eyes wide open with disbelief.

"we've been so worried about you!" wooyoung said, pulling yeosang away from you. "hang on, are you drunk?"

san had noticed his tired, tear stained eyes, "you look like you've been crying! are you okay?"

you let out a quiet sigh, knowing you didn't need to be here anymore. you gave a small wave goodbye and headed home, utterly exhausted.

and though you were so drained, you couldn't seem to fall asleep. those words yeosang said to you kept running through your mind busily.

did he mean any of it?

—————��——

yeosang felt bad. he felt terrible. like he wanted to vanish into thin air and float away with the breeze. though he couldn't, no, he desperately wanted to apologise to you. but he didn't know how, he wasn't good with words or expressing his feelings, and you wished he knew that was something you loved about him.

wooyoung and san tried to ask him what happened the night he drunkenly confessed to you, but he couldn't have them know that he'd been harbouring feelings for you for all this time, they'd never let him live it down. he could imagine the continuous teasing they'd give him, nudging him whenever you were together or giving him side glances after talking to you.

yeosang gave it lots of thought. he mulled it over in his head repeatedly. it was only after hours spent hidden away in his room that he decided to go back to where it all started, a text. a text that said how much he wanted to make it up to you for having to deal with him drunk, just like the one you'd sent initially.

yeosang: hey y/n, i feel really bad about the other day, i wanna know how i can make it up to you! T^T

your heart leapt a mile seeing his name appear on your phone. you grinned upon reading his message, realising it was scarily similar to the message you had first sent him.

you: hmmm you: that sounds familiar

yeosang: >.< yeosang: seriously though, how does dinner at my place tomorrow night sound? i'll cook

you: you can cook?

yeosang: there's a lot you don't know about me x_x

you: okay, i'll be there !!

————————

yeosang wasn't lying when he said he can cook. as you traipsed up the stairs of his apartment block you could smell something delicious laced in the air.

the usual swelling in your heart had instead fell to the pit of your stomach, you were feeling slightly nervous as to what would happen when you entered yeosang's apartment. you inhaled deeply before knocking at the door of his apartment.

"hey y/n, come in." yeosang greeted, holding an arm out, signalling for you to come inside.

"you must've been working hard cooking! it smells delicious." you said, feeling a sense of comfort just from the smell of food.

"yeah, lucky i sent wooyoung and san over to jongho's place, otherwise i doubt there would be any pasta to serve." he joked. "you can take a seat, i've just gotta serve up."

you sat down in front of a neatly laid table, it had somewhat surprised you how much effort yeosang had put into this dinner tonight. he placed a steamy hot plate of pasta in front of you and one where he would sit.

"so." he began.

"so." you copied, teasingly.

"i guess, i really just wanted to say i'm sorry for how i behaved the other night when i was drunk. you shouldn't of had to deal with that." he frowned, poking at his dinner.

you furrowed your brows, "it's seriously fine yeosang." you took a bite of pasta, "i was just surprised to see you drunk, since you never drink."

he chuckled, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, "actually, i do. i just never drink when you're there."

"really? why?" you questioned, eating another mouthful of pasta.

"because..." he paused. "no, it sounds dumb out loud."

"it's okay, you don't have to explain yourself." you smiled warmly, "but that does remind me to ask... do you remember anything you said to me while you were drunk?" you leant forward, genuinely curious.

he sighed, "i remember.. enough."

"you don't really hate me, right?" you asked, playing with the food on your plate.

"of course not! that's why i invited you here tonight. to show you that i don't, and to make it up to you." he had to refrain from reaching across to hold your hand, just to show how much he cared that little bit more.

you nodded, "well, thats good. i was kinda worried that we'd gone back to square one."

comfort settled within you. it was relieving to know you weren't hated by the one person whose love you wanted most. a tiny thought crept into your mind, maybe, just maybe, now would be the right time to tell him about your blossoming feelings for him. or would that confuse him more? now you were the one feeling conflicted.

"are you finished eating?" he asked, reaching for your empty plate.

"yes, thank you! it was delicious. you're a good cook, y'know."

"ah, thanks y/n." he turned away to hide the blush appearing on his cheeks.

"would you like me to do the dishes? since you cooked." you offered, standing up. but he quickly opposed.

"don't be ridiculous." he shooed you back to your seat. "can i get you a coffee? water? wine?"

"a coffee sounds good, i think you and i have had too many drunken situations lately." you laughed.

yeosang pulled out two mugs and put the kettle on. he felt your eyes carefully watching him. once again, he hated the feeling that was pulling at his heart. the way you could say nothing, yet he felt everything.

"can i tell you something?" you asked, voice now quieter and more hesitant.

"sure, what is it?" he said, placing a warm cup of coffee in front of you.

you took a sip, humming in delight. it was exactly the way you liked it. when the two of you went out for coffee, he had unintentionally remembered just the way you like it.

"well," you began cautiously, in case you brought this situation into flames again. "i just... i always wondered why you didn't like me. if i was doing something wrong, if i said something once that really upset you. and then after we started spending time together, i finally felt like i was doing the right thing." you groaned, frustrated with yourself for not getting to the point quicker. "what i'm trying to say is that i have feelings for you. it's okay if you don't feel the same way. i wouldn't expect you to, i just thought you should know—"

yeosang basically choked on his coffee, eyes widening in shock. "it's okay, y/n! in case you hadn't noticed, i'm crazy about you."

you had continued to ramble nervously before hearing what he said.

"wait. you are?"

"basically ever since you said that thing about stars in my eyes, yes."

you cringed, remembering how you had said that so absent minded. "yeah, sorry about that."

"it's okay, it was cute. and what did i say about apologising?"

you shook your head and smiled, "i know."

————————

ever since the two of you confessed to each other, you had been almost inseparable, except of course when you had work. but he dropped you home most nights, even though you insisted it was okay and that you could walk. he came over every weekend just to spend time with you, even if the two of you just sat and talked, enjoying each other's company. you'd been dating for a few weeks now, but kept it undercover, not wanting to suffer the incessant questioning that would come if you told your friends.

it didn't go unnoticed either, wooyoung and san were constantly nagging yeosang about why the two of you spent so much time together, and each time he just shrugged it off.

christmas was just around the corner, so you were spending the evening at seonghwa's and hongjoong's house, who of course, were throwing an unnecessarily large house party to celebrate.

you were sat between a very drunk yunho and mingi, who were trying to talk to an also very drunk jongho. you eyed your boyfriend from across the room, as if asking for a way out and he just laughed at the situation you were stuck in.

after at least ten minutes more of having your ear talked off, yeosang came to pull you away to the dance floor.

"care to dance?" he asked, extending his hand to you.

you immediately jumped up, latching onto his hand, "i would love to!"

he chuckled, pulling you close to his side and leading you to the makeshift dance floor that seonghwa and hongjoong created.

the two of you laughed at the boys' reaction. they were completely shocked to see the two of you so close together and yeosang being friendly.

he twirled you around a few times with the music, before settling his arms around your waist. he brought you near to him as you placed your arms behind his neck. you swayed back and forth, engulfed in your own little bubble of comfort in each other's arms, completely out of time with the loud thumping music that blared around you.

you felt content, and yeosang no longer felt confused. he found his home in your arms and his happiness.

you reached up to place your lips on his, capturing the moment surrounding you. yeosang melted into the kiss, discovering that your lips were soft and sweet against his, just as he had imagined, which caused his knees to feel weak and his heart to skip more than just one beat. he never wanted to let you go, he wanted to compensate for every second that he didn't spend with you since the two of you met.

he leaned forward and whispered softly, just so you could hear above all the music and singing, "lets stay like this forever."