#he does not recognize himself as a person so do not treat him as one.

[glade-constellation]

I was scrolling through TikTok and came across this audio that really just, put all the puzzle pieces together for how Nexus really felt. Imagine Sun is the one speaking. Sun never said this, he never would say this to Nexus back when he was “Moon”, but this is how Nexus interpreted it.

Nexus woke up with no identity. Not a single clue of who he was, what he was meant to be, or what he could become. But there’s someone there that’s telling him who he should be, and no one is arguing it, so that just must be how it goes. He never even tries to start figuring out who he is, he goes straight into being who someone else wants him to be. He was Moon. That was his name.

But then they start telling him all the wrongs he did. No one was telling him he needed to take the blame, but to him it was clear they wanted him to. Because he was Moon. And Moon had done those things, even if he didn’t. He had no memory of doing them, but he was Moon so he had to have made those mistakes. They were his problems, and he had to fix them.

So he does. He stops Eclipse. He tries to fix what he can with Sun, and be there for his brother. He desperately tries to keep Lunar safe even if Lunar was not happy with him afterwards. But that’s just it. He’s doing all these things and it feels like he’s getting nothing back. No one seems to acknowledge what he’s putting in, and when they do recognize it they give him shit for it. He keeps trying and keeps seeming to fail.

Then, he has a chance to talk to himself. The person that is actually Moon, the one who actually made all those mistakes. The one whose entire identity was forced upon Nexus. There is no thank you. There is no heartfelt conversation. There is nothing but mildly curious indifference and once again being forced to into an identity that wasn’t truly him. Told to die in it, if it kept the family happy.

Then Solar died. And he was devastated. And he grieved. But apparently, he wasn’t even allowed to grieve as his own self, he had to grieve like Moon too. Had to still be there for others while grieving himself, keep up an act to keep them happy while he was suffering. They weren’t there to comfort him, they were there to comfort Moon, and they weren’t still doing a pretty poor job of that.

That was his breaking point. Never once did he feel like his family cared about him. They cared about Moon. He was so, so tired of the identity forced upon him. From now on, he was going to call the shots in his own life. If he died, he’d die as his own person, and no one else.

Nexus was constantly buried under the weight of being someone he never truly was by his entire family. Earth was the only one who treated him as his own person, and that’s because she only knew him as himself. She had never known Moon, and had no bias to go off of. Lunar, quite obviously at this point, didn’t like him and made a point of showing it. Because he wasn’t the original Moon and Lunar didn’t like that. Sun obviously had years worth of bias. I think that’s why he favored Earth over the others, because she actually cared about him. She didn’t care about what he was supposed to be, she cared about who he was.

There’s a deep complexity to Nexus as a character that I need people to see and understand. People feel like Nexus only started his downward spiral after Solar died, but he has been suffering since day one. He had an entire year’s worth of trauma, both his own and those forced upon him, that lead him to becoming Nexus. Nexus becoming a villain felt like a wildly outrageous “edgy emo teen” phase because, in a way, it was. Nexus had never known who he truly was, because he had never expressed himself outside of the realm that was Moon. He was simultaneously trying to find himself and distance himself as far as he could from Moon. He was trying to become everything that Moon wasn’t so he could escape. His turn to becoming a villain was because, despite Moon having hurt people, Moon had never been a villain in anyone’s eyes.

Becoming Nexus was his way of freedom. He was happier dying the villain than he was living as Moon.

[stagesofkiller]

need more of the gang taking advantage of killer’s dehumanization right now. 🙏 We always see talk about how killer dehumanizes others and not enough about how he is both dehumanized and dehumanizes himself.

he is very easy to take advantage of, his conditioned apathy was never for his own benefit besides avoiding the things that hurt him and not caring about how he is abused and used (normalizing it) and about himself and consequences after all.

[goldentigerfestival]

I love the vocal nuance in this exchange, but also posting this for my differences posts because this is one of the changes that infuriates me the most. Yuri didn't threaten Ioder, did not threaten him with a weapon, and just said he'd punch him in a lazy, half joking voice (half joking as in, he really doesn't want to hear that - that's just his way of saying so; but that's not the voice of someone who is super angry and threatening).

My other huge grievance is that this is a recurring issue between them in the dub. Yuri is pretty much always vocally rude to Ioder. Ioder has done nothing to wrong him or anyone and has only ever done good for the people where he's able to.

Yet despite Ioder being nothing but sincere, honest and polite with Yuri, in fact even happy to see him here and there, dub Yuri is outright tonally rude to him leading right up this scene where he threatens Ioder in this dark voice. Meanwhile he's actually just supposed to be… lazily telling Ioder he'll punch him in his Yuri Lowell way of saying "I don't want to hear that".

The dub really just wanted to turn Yuri into this dark edgelord and I hate that for my goofy, silly boy.

[ecoterrorist-katara]

Zutara, romance novels, and the female gaze

Okay so I’ve been thinking about the female gaze a LOT so I checked out a subreddit about romance novels, despite never having read one. I came across this meme (which was initially a Tumblr post and then got posted to Instagram and then to Reddit and I’m now bringing back to Tumblr — Internet telephone, pls never change):

And…what is The Southern Raiders, if not a platonic grovel? Katara’s pain is central to the episode. It’s central to Zuko. Zuko asks Katara what he can do to make up for his betrayal; she demands the impossible. He reads between the lines, cockblocks her brother to get the necessary information, and then waits outside her door overnight (which he also did for Iroh, the one person we know for sure he loves). He basically makes himself a receptacle for her rage, and he holds space for her by coming with her on her revenge quest and carrying their bags and not saying a damn thing about what she should and should not do beyond like…asking her to rest. And obviously the grovel works! She forgives him and then they’re thick as thieves, bantering and fighting and saving each other’s lives, etc.

On a different note, I’ve been told that enemies to lovers is one of the biggest tropes in romance novels, similar to YA lit and fanfic. Here’s something else I found in the romance novel discourse:

And…yeah. In TSR, Katara really does show Zuko her worst self, because she doesn’t feel the need to perform for him. She doesn’t feel the need to perform moral perfection OR cold blooded vengeance. She bloodbends in front of him and he just goes with it. She doesn’t kill Yon Rha and he just goes with it. He doesn’t treat her any differently afterwards. Maybe they talk about it off screen, but I kind of like the idea that they don’t, because Katara doesn’t need to explain anything. And it’s so interesting, because some people in the ATLA fandom have a totally different read on TSR. They think Zuko was encouraging Katara to get revenge (by what, keeping his mouth shut?), and that Aang is the one who acts as her moral compass. I believe that either Bryan or Mike said in the DVD commentary that Aang is the angel on her shoulder the entire time. And this interpretation does make sense if you see it from the male gaze, where Katara as an object of affection is acting in an angry, irrational, threatening way. But if you see it from the female gaze, you recognize that actually it’s probably the most emotionally taxing experience Katara has to go through, and she doesn’t owe it to be nice or perfect to anybody. Katara’s formative trauma literally comes to a head, and she has to make a decision — no, a discovery — about who she is in relation to the tragedy that defines her life and even her identity (as a waterbender, as a parentified child who becomes the mom friend, as a genocide victim), and she’s accompanied by someone who trusts her judgement and validates her feelings.

I’m not saying TSR is explicitly romantically coded, but when it conforms so well to romance novel tropes…is it any wonder that so many people thought “yes this is her man?” And then he takes lightning in the heart for her and reaches for her when he’s literally dying, I will never be normal about that either

[hyunverse]

wherever you are ☆ hwang hyunjin.

hyunjin x fem!reader. childhood best friends to lovers. slowburn, pining. fluff, angst. suggestive. a hyunjin birthday special.

wc: 12.9k words.

warnings: reader often referred to as "girl," suggestive. mentions of sex.

note: this fic is my baby. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written so far, please treat it well <3 feedbacks are very much appreciated.

playlist.

Hyunjin promised you that he'll be wherever you are. What do you do when your best friend of years — the only person you've ever loved disappears without saying goodbye? Especially when you've spent your entire life with Hyunjin, you didn't know of life without him.

one.

“Happy Birthday, Hyunjin.”

It was Hyunjin’s 10th birthday. 

Despite already singing him a happy birthday song, you muttered the wish once again in the comfort of his tree house. He sat adjacent to you, feet dangling over the platform, the large leaves hovering over the tree house’s roof providing shelter from the blinding sunlight. 

He hummed in gratitude, eyes busy watching Kkami running around below the tree house. Afternoons with Hyunjin were often spent like this — hanging out in the tree house as Kkami played around on the grass, its barks mirroring its happiness. For years, you’ve spent enjoying the fact that your afternoons were spent like this — were spent with Hyunjin, in childish innocence. 

After letting the silence take over for a while, Hyunjin turned his head towards you, a little surprised once he saw that you were already looking at him. He tried his best to not let his surprise show. 

“Why did you want to come up here? I thought you were enjoying the party inside.” 

Indeed, you were enjoying the birthday party, a little too much for Hyunjin’s liking. The boys from Hyunjin’s school came to the party, and you seemed to get along with them quickly, despite being the only girl at the party. Hyunjin hates to admit it but he was a little envious. He told himself that he’s jealous because he’s your number one best friend, so you should pay more attention to him. It was true, but only partially — he was jealous because they were all boys. Not that he would ever admit that to himself.

To Hyunjin’s question, you responded by extending your arms to him, revealing a white box in your palm. He took it, quickly recognizing it as a jewellery box. He’s received one of them after purchasing a Mother’s Day gift. Quietly, he examined the engravings on the box, and the pristine look of it. Honestly, he was impressed by how clean you have kept it. You had always been one to dirty your white clothes. 

“What’s this?” he asked, answering his own enquiry by opening the box with you sitting close, peering over his hands.

Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat.

In the box laid two necklaces, black strings with Lego pieces as pendants. They were matching necklaces. The Lego piece of each necklace formed a heart when joined together. His brown eyes widened, in disbelief of the gift. He’s never received something like this — something matching. It made his heart flutter — no, it beat faster than it does while playing soccer. Hyunjin turned to look into your eyes, and it was as though he had found a new revelation in yours. The more Hyunjin looked at you, the more the realization seeped in, until it overtook his senses.

You’re a girl. 

You weren’t just the kid from next door, you weren’t like his other friends — you’re a girl. You like Disney princesses, you have a pretty face, you like Sanrio characters, you have soft hair, you like painting nails, you have pink lips from your strawberry lip balm, you like matching necklaces — you’re a girl. 

A very pretty girl.

It felt like a revelation after having been friends with you for over five years. As though the necklaces in the box held some sort of power to snap one from a trance. Hyunjin realized that you were different from his other friends. For one, you have softer hands. Moreover, you’re someone he can develop a crush on — or whatever girls call it. 

His finger traced the pendants, feeling the bumps of the Lego pieces. He smiled, one that reached his ears. You felt yourself releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

“I love it soooo much. Thank you.”

Unlike other boys (the stinky ones from your school), Hyunjin didn’t cringe at the gift. The way he gently examined the necklaces mirrored the appreciation he felt towards it. If he was any other boy, he would’ve probably laughed at the gift, then poked fun at you. 

Then again, Hyunjin had never been like the other boys you knew.

He was different in the way he spoke softly to you (softer than he would to his guy friends), and how he would let you change the TV channel from Snoopy to Totally Spies. He had always been different, that being the reason why you were so fond of him. 

“You like it? Really?” you queried, staring at him. You watched his expressions carefully, trying to sense for any lies.

“Really! Which one do you want?” he answered, absolutely no hesitations. He wasn’t lying.

Hyunjin panned the box towards you, prompting you to pick which necklace. One was in black, the other in white. As always, he gave in to you, letting you be the one to choose. 

“White!”

The sun was setting when you both swayed your legs, wearing the matching necklaces. Hyunjin was genuinely happy, one of his hands wouldn’t stop fiddling with the pendant. The party was still lively inside, but he much preferred sitting with you — his one and only best friend. 

“Yn,” your best friend’s voice broke you from your trance. “What do you want for your birthday?” 

“Hm,” you pondered, tapping your pointer on your chin in a cartoonish manner.

He was looking at you, an expectant expression on his face. You pulled up your legs to cross them as you thought. 

“I think…” your voice trailed, “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!” 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “at least make it something I could give you!”

You pouted, “but that’s what I want!” 

The boy sighed, laying back on the rough surface of the tree house. He looked up, observing the little glow-in-the-dark stars plastered onto the tree house ceiling. He recalled putting them up with you. You were impossible to deal with. Hyunjin desperately wanted to know your wish — something he could give you for your birthday. Your gift to him made him really happy, and he wished to return the favour. 

“Then, I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris with you.” 

It was such an innocent, child-like answer — straight from a 10-year-old’s desire. Untainted by the boulevard of broken dreams. As if anything in the world was possible, and that the universe was kind all the time. 

“Really?” you chirped, looking at him with disbelief in your eyes. You giggled in glee and plopped yourself down beside him. “Really really? You really really really mean it, Hyunnie?” 

At that point, Hyunjin could only giggle and nod. “Of course! I’ll be wherever you are.”

The manner in which you hugged him expressed your excitement. You were practically suffocating him, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing tightly. 

“You’re my best friend in the world!” 

Hyunjin felt like he could die. 

His heart continued beating rapidly, worsened by you nuzzling your face into his neck. Hyunjin knew, it was just you being your usual self. However, the revelation he experienced minutes earlier made the tips of his ears turn red. 

“Hyunjin! Come down here! Your friends are about to leave!”

At that very moment, Hyunjin silently thanked his mother for saving him.

two.    

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

A question which had you staring into space — the walls of Hyunjin’s bedroom for a while. The blue walls were plastered with posters of numerous musicians and self-made artworks.

It wasn’t that you didn’t know the answer. You knew. Ballet had been a part of your life since small, it was your everything. It wasn’t that you were unsure if you wanted to do ballet, you were unsure if you should be doing ballet. 

Uneasiness settled into your stomach, but you tried to keep them in. You were in no mood to be going through an identity crisis.

“Ballerina,” you stated, matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows furrowed when Hyunjin chuckled.

“What?”

“Your answer hasn’t changed,” Hyunjin laughed, but not in a humorous way. Rather, it was in an expectant way, as if he knew that’s what you would answer. 

You straightened your posture and tilted your head. Hyunjin laughed even more, making a comment that you looked like Kkami.

“Have you asked me the same thing before?”

He nodded, “sort of? Kind of. On my tenth birthday, I asked you what you wanted.” Hyunjin cleared his throat and took a deep breath, mimicking the voice of younger you. “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”

“Oh, shut up!” you rumbled, hitting him with his bolster repeatedly. “That’s not how I sounded like!”

“It so was!” 

Truthfully, you couldn’t quite recall the memory. You didn’t doubt Hyunjin though, it did sound like something you would’ve said. 

You queried again.

“What did you answer then?” 

Hyunjin turned silent. He didn’t like where this was going, not fond of recalling the cheesy answer he gave you. As he looked away from your gaze, you pressed him further. Even threatened to dog-nap Kkami.

“Fine. I said… I said I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris too…” his voice trailed, getting smaller, “said I’ll be wherever you are…”

Your eyebrows raised, scooting closer to him in mock confusion. “Sorry? Didn’t hear you.” 

A pillow hit your head, and you burst out into peals of laughter. It was hilarious, the cheesy answer little Hyunjin gave, but what amused you even more was his face turning red. 

Touches of laughter echoed in the room, and Hyunjin found himself praying the moment would last forever. The conversation quickly escalated into a pillow fight, ending up in Hyunjin leaning against his headboard, exhausted, and you laying on his lap. 

You looked up at him, eyes fleeting to the stubble growing. Mindlessly, you grazed his cheek, feeling his sideburns prickling against your thumb. 

He was growing, you realized it then. You were growing too. Neither of you were little kids anymore.

A fact you didn't want to accept.

It’s the softness of your fingers that froze Hyunjin in his tracks. He held his breath, as if you would stop if he moved. He didn’t want you to, wanted to let your fingers linger, to etch the sensation into his memories. 

In a soft tone, you spoke, “Did you really mean it?”

“Hm?”

“Would you be wherever I am?”

Hyunjin’s breath hitched, a lump growing in his throat. If he spoke, he feared his feelings would become too real. For as long as he could, he wanted to bury his feelings deep down. Life was already risky as it is, he didn’t want to take any more.

It’s platonic. It’s platonic. It’s platonic.

They repeated in his brain like a mantra. Maybe if he chanted it, it’ll manifest to life.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin swallowed, “of course I will. You’re my best friend.” 

Like magic, your worries about the future disappeared into thin air. Would it be foolish to trust Hyunjin so much, that you believed life would be fine as long as he was with you? 

Dear universe, be good to me.

You smiled, one that Hyunjin swore could light up the entire sky. The stars must envy you, for the way you could brighten up darkness effortlessly. 

���I’ll be wherever you are too.”

Yeah, Hyunjin would love it if time froze.

three.  

Don’t be a coward. 

Four words Hyunjin told his reflection as he got ready. He was dressed in a basic tee and a pair of jeans, hair slicked back like the one time you told him it looked good. He spritzed his cologne behind his ears, on his neck, and on his wrist before repeating the four words again. This time, he whispered it, letting it soak into his brain, in hopes his heart would have courage. 

It’s been too long. The feelings he harboured for you piled overtime, the crush he once thought was temporary transforming into fondness. It was becoming too much for Hyunjin’s heart to bear, he needed to let it out. If he didn’t, he felt like his heart could burst. And if it did, it would be confetti-shaped memories of you. 

Chatters echoed outside your ballet academy, Hyunjin watched through the lowered window for your face among the sea of people. He had a plan in mind — he’d open the door for you, put the seatbelt on for you, and tell you about his feelings. In front of your academy wasn’t the most ideal place for a confession, he knew, but God — he couldn’t bear sitting in silence with you as a storm raged in his head. He couldn’t do it. He wanted to say it as soon as he could. 

Hyunjin’s eyes were still busy looking for you when suddenly, your face came in his peripheral vision, along with another face. The other person was lean, jet black hair with bangs and puppy-like eyes. The boy opened the door for you before Hyunjin could. 

Okay, step number one failed. 

“Hey, Hyunnie!” your voice chirped, getting into the car. Your hand moved to buckle your seatbelt before Hyunjin could. He was too busy analysing the stranger in front of the door.

“Hey,” Hyunjin replied nonchalantly, looking at the boy from head to toe. “And this is…?”

“Seungmin. And you?” the boy said, tilting his head. To Hyunjin, he was being challenged. Seungmin’s tone was more daring than he liked, so he felt an urge to one-up the guy.

“Hyunjin. Been friends with Yn since were in diapers.” he replied, the extra detail a pathetic attempt at one-upping Seungmin. 

Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows, nodding as he shut your door, “Uh. Cool? Bye, Yn. And the friend since diapers.” 

Oh, Hyunjin really didn’t like him. 

“Wait, Seungminnie!” you called out just as Seungmin was walking away. He looked back at the car, raising an eyebrow. You turned to Hyunjin with puppy eyes. “Can you give Seungminnie a ride? He takes the bus and I think the next one’s in an hour.”

Hyunjin clenched his jaw, eyes fluttering from your pleading eyes to Seungmin’s figure outside the car. If it was all up to him, he would probably run the guy over. But God knew how much he cherished you, how he would rather cut his tongue than tell you “no,” so he agreed.

“Mm. Sure,” he replied, swallowing back a scoff. 

Your eyes brightened, “Seungminnie! Come, we’ll give you a ride!” you yelled, tempting Hyunjin to mock the nickname you’d given him.

It was going to be a car ride straight out of hell. 

Hyunjin’s knuckles were white against the steering as he pulled up to Seungmin’s residence complex. The building standing in front of him definitely belonged in a gated community, ritzy and luxurious. Somehow, that pissed Hyunjin off even more. He glanced at the unwanted guest sitting in the back seat through the rear-view mirror.

“Want me to drive you to the lobby, or what?”

Seungmin looked back into the mirror, peering at the reflection through his bangs. “Nah. They don’t let random cars in. Here’s just fine,” he mumbled, unbuckling the seatbelt. “Thanks, dude. Appreciate it.” 

The car door closed behind Seungmin, leaving the two of you in the car. Hyunjin sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up him again. Now that it was only the two of you, it was time for Hyunjin to confess his feelings.

Before he could, you spoke, “Seungmin’s my friend in the academy. He’s really smart,” your eyes didn’t leave the crossroad before you, watching as Seungmin walked. 

Hyunjin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He tapped on your thigh, trying to gain your attention. It worked as you looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “Hm?”

He licked his lower lip, mustering all the courage in him. It was now, or never. “Look, I have something to tell you.” 

“Yeah?”

You shuffled in your seat, tilting your body slightly towards his way. Now that you had your full attention on him, Hyunjin felt even more nervous. He scratched the skin around his thumb, tongue-tied as his brain tried to form coherent words. He’s never done this before, always made fun of his friends for struggling to express their feelings but now that he was in the same place, he wished he could take back all the insults. The brown eyes looking deeply (and anxiously) into yours were profusely blinking, as though he was at the brink of tears. You grew worried.

“Hyunjin, what’s up?”

He scratched at the back of his neck. Why did his tongue feel so numb? Why did his brain feel empty yet so full at the same time? His heartbeats were so fast, he couldn’t quite catch up. Hyunjin was on a rollercoaster — you were waiting at the end of the ride.

Finally, he managed to muster words. “Look, I’ve pondered over —”

Two knocks on the window at the back. They’re followed by the door opening, an exasperated Seungmin popping his head into the car. Immediately, you both looked back, utterly bewildered. 

“Sorry. I left my bag. Thank God you’re still here,” Seungmin said, grabbing his messenger bag and slipping it onto his shoulder. “Thanks and sorry!”

The door closed, thus silence blanketed the atmosphere once again. This time, with unresolved tension. You looked back at Hyunjin, tilting your head in curiosity.

“You were saying?” 

Dazed, the raven looked at you. His face was a mixture of exasperation and confusion. His head? There was a storm raging, along with curse words aimed at Seungmin. 

“Um…” He licked his lower lip, racking his brain to find back the words he wanted to say. They were all lost. He was already at the end of the rollercoaster, the bumps along the way forgotten, and the thrill subsided. All that’s left was the remnants of anxiety. He couldn’t do it anymore, not when he’s forgotten the things he wanted to say, and the moment disturbed by your dear friend Seungmin.

So, he put the gear on to drive. He shook his head and made up a white lie.

“I think I want to try a new ice cream place today.”

four.  

The taste of cookies and cream could not beat the bitterness on Hyunjin’s tongue. 

It may be because the bitterness has seeped into his head. 

“I’m going to your room,” you announced, swinging the front door of his house open. “Hi, Mrs Hwang!” you cheered, running up the stairs after. 

“I’m going to talk to my mom a little bit,” Hyunjin said, hanging both your coats on the coat hanger. 

Nothing could’ve prepared Hyunjin for what was to happen next. 

Both his parents were crowding the kitchen countertop when he walked in, skimming through a piece of paper. They were beaming, eyes crinkled as they smiled. A reminder that Hyunjin resembled both his parents. He blinked in confusion as to why his parents looked so happy. He didn’t think he'd seen them this happy before.

“What’s going on?” he questioned, peering over their figures to look at the paper. 

On the paper were words he’d only seen in his dreams. Never in a million years he would’ve thought it’d manifest to life. His heart skipped a beat as he read the words over, and over. 

“You made it, sweetheart,” his mother’s soft voice spoke, confirming his suspicion. “You got accepted. Beaux-Arts de Paris.”

“Eomma,” he mumbled, as if he was pleading. Pleading for this dream to stop. Somebody’s got to wake him up from this nightmare of a day. “There’s no way.” 

Hyunjin picked up the letter, inspecting it closer. As though if he looked any closer, the words on the pristine white paper would change. Reject him. Or maybe, the logo of the prestigious school would magically transform into a logo of a school in Seoul. Anything, anything, that would keep him here. In Seoul. With you. 

“You did it, sweetheart. Your dreams are coming true,” his mother keenly said, pulling him into a side hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

His dream? It was his dream, and, yours. No, scratch that — it wasn’t truly his dream. It was yours. His dream had always been to be wherever you are. 

He didn’t think he would be accepted. When you told him you were rejected from the Paris Ballet School, he told you that he was rejected, too. He didn’t tell you that he was waitlisted, under the impression that he was never getting out of the waitlist. What was he to tell you now? 

Hyunjin hid his sadness, wanting to make his parents proud, “Yeah. I did it. I’m so happy, eomma, appa.” 

A series of praises left his parents, and he allowed for them to engulf him in a hug. 

“Don’t tell Yn, ‘kay?” he muttered, before excusing himself to go upstairs. The acceptance letter was neatly folded, tucked into his pocket.  

When he swung his bedroom door open, you were standing in front of his full-length mirror. Clad in only his t-shirt, you inspected yourself. 

“Hey, Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered, turning your body. “Your clothes are bigger than me now. You used to be so small.”

You looked at him, mock dismay in your face. “I was so much taller than you before. You were a dwarf.” 

How was he meant to tell you about Paris?

“I was never a dwarf. You were just too busy looking down on me.”

Giggles left both of you. Silently, he observed the way you were examining yourself. You had the mannerisms of a ballerina, each gesture as gracious as your dance. Hyunjin adored the curves of your body, but God knew he loved that of your smile even more. 

Later, you were both laying on his bed, you in a starfish position. Hyunjin was at the edge of his bed, trying his best to not fall. 

“Ballet was so hard today,” you sighed. You turned your body sideways, burying your face into Hyunjin’s chest. He could smell you in this closeness.

“Are you wearing my deodorant?” he queried, bowing to clasp his nose onto your shoulder. It felt like a kiss to him. “This is literally the smell of my deodorant.” 

You shrugged. “Yeah? What about it? You should’ve gotten used to me taking your things by now, Hwang Hyunjin. I’ve been doing this our whole lives.” 

Touché. The boy sighed, letting you fill in the silence with your babbles. Wordlessly, he listened to your words, letting it be the white noise to his thoughts. 

His head was clearly not there. Unbeknownst to him, you knew of this. He’d been off all day. You’ve picked up on each signal, knowing him like the back of your hand. As much as you wanted to know what was wrong, you knew not to pry. You resorted to comfort instead. 

Your fingertips met at the back of his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He was never one for physical touch but sometimes, it helped. You leaned your head into his neck. 

Gingerly, you whispered the words you thought he would need. 

“You’re always here, around me. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

The exact words he did not need to hear that day.

How was he meant to tell you of his feelings now? 

Especially when he was leaving — oceans away. 

five.  

Hyunjin had always loved soccer.

Whether it be being in the bleachers, or playing in the field. He loved doing both. There was something about the thrill of watching people play, and the adrenaline as he chased around the field. 

Sitting in the bleachers, Hyunjin watched as his soccer team played. The sounds of his teammates laughing made the blazing sun a little more bearable. He lowered his cap to prevent the sunlight from getting in his eyes, chuckling when he saw Beomgyu falling face-first onto the grass.

He loved his soccer team. Every time he observed them play, Hyunjin’s heart always got overwhelmed with pride and joy. At that moment, he felt melancholy taking space too — the thought of not being able to play with them anymore hurting him more than he thought it would. 

Hyunjin allowed for the melancholy to take space, allowed himself to feel — so much so that he didn’t feel Minho’s presence. Not until the older cleared his throat. 

Minho sat beside him, “Why the long face, Hwang Hyunjin?” 

“Huh?” startled, he looked up, face softening when he saw Minho. “Oh. Nothing. You’re not playing?”

“Nah,” Minho replied curtly. He silently analyzed the younger’s facial expressions before speaking up again. “For someone who’s going to Paris in two weeks, you sure don’t look too happy.”

Of course, Minho out of all people would notice the change in his mannerisms. Always the analyzing one, quick to notice changes in demeanour. There was no point in lying, not with Minho — so he let out the sigh he didn’t realize he was holding. 

“It’s bittersweet, you know?” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.

“It’s Yn, isn’t it?” 

“Huh?”

“You don’t want to part ways with her. It’s what’s holding you back.” 

Right on. It was as though Minho was a mind-reader. A heavy weight pulled on Hyunjin’s heartstrings, made his heart even heavier than a few minutes prior.

“Yeah,” he didn’t lie, again. He looked at Minho, and the older could clearly see the uneasiness written all over his face. “If you were me… would you tell her about your feelings?”

“The fact that you like her?”

“Yeah.”

Minho fell silent. He pondered over the question, looking at the sight before him. The sun was setting, orange hues painting the sky. Hyunjin wondered if Paris sunsets would look the same.

“I think…” Minho turned towards the younger. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t tell her.” 

“Why?”

“Won’t benefit you, I don’t think.” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Listen. If you were to tell her, and she accepted, do you think you could get into a relationship with her?”

“I mean —”

Minho cut him, “Realistically, do you think the relationship would succeed? I mean, the time zone between Seoul and Paris is pretty big. The distance, too. I don’t think it would work out. And that’ll be bad, you know? You’ll both be left wondering what could have been.”

The truth hurt. The distance, the time — none of them were on Hyunjin’s side. 

“And, if, God forbid, if she were to reject you… do you really want your last memory with her to be the hurt you’ll feel?”

Hyunjin shook his head. The other sighed, and patted him on the back. 

“There are things better left unsaid. You should take her out. Spend your last time with her nicely.”

Despite Hyunjin’s stubbornness, he took Minho’s advice. It took him a lot of contemplating (and crying), but he followed it anyway. Whether he liked it or not, Minho’s advice had a lot of truth in it. 

Bitter truths, but true regardless.

six.

“Where are we going?” you whined, trailing behind your dear friend. The sun was setting in two hours, orange hues were beginning to paint the sky. “Hyunnie, if you don’t tell me where we’re —”

“Please, stay patient. Will you?”

Hyunjin looked behind. He was wearing a blue knitted vest. In one hand, he held a picnic basket. The other, is your handbag. You never have to carry your own with him.

“But we’re literally in the middle of nowhere!” 

“Please just trust me,” he pleaded. One hand was stretched towards you, a silent offer to hold his. “Come. If you’re too tired, I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

Ever the opportunist, you took up on the offer. Alas, Hyunjin was left walking the remaining distance, you happily singing road trip songs while clinging onto his back. To butter him up, you told him that he must’ve been a blessing sent to you by God. Although he groaned at the remark, you couldn’t see the small smile on his face.

After a few minutes, you understood why Hyunjin was adamant about going out that day. Before you, green plains stretched as far as your eyes could see. Scattered across viridian shades were wildflowers. Some yellow, some pink. 

Hyunjin had brought you to a flower field.

The picnic basket, and the Polaroid camera finally made sense. 

Without any more words, you jumped off his back and ran into the field. The yellow sundress you wore matched that of the wildflowers. In Hyunjin’s eyes, you blended right in. 

You were as pretty as the flowers. 

“Careful, Yn! Don’t fall!” He called out, his voice echoing in the space. He watched you from afar. There was an urge to run among the flowers too, but he was much more content with watching you. 

From a distance, in silence, he observed your every move. He couldn’t help the giggles that left his lips. The smile that lingered on his lips. He wanted this memory to last, to be ingrained in his brain forever. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to witness your happiness. 

“Hyunnie, you need to come here! It’s so nice!”

Chuckling, he carefully placed the picnic basket on the ground. Hyunjin was done with setting up the picnic spot. He ran towards you, lifted you off the ground and twirled you around. You broke out into giggles and held onto his arms. 

Among the flowers, two silhouettes danced with each other. Swaying to the same melody as the peonies. Despite being a ballerina, you kept stumbling onto Hyunjin’s feet, giggling each time he elicited an “ow.” 

Like a scene from a movie.

Like he wasn’t going away soon.

Before the sun could set, Hyunjin convinced you to sit on the picnic blanket. He wished to dance with you longer, but alas, time awaits for no mortal. 

“How do you want me to pose?” you asked. You were facing him, legs tucked sideways.

Hyunjin scooted closer to you, and wiped breadcrumbs off your lips. He commented on you eating messily. “You can pose however you want.”

You nodded, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Okay. Make sure you get my good angles, yeah?”

“You look good from any angle.” 

Crimson crept up your face. You hadn’t expected that remark. You hoped he wouldn’t see you blush, you would just tell him it’s the sun then. 

“Okay…”

Two clicks, then a flash went off. Your eyes widened, caught off-guard.

“You didn’t even count to three!” 

Your whines were responded to with a giggle. The camera whirled, apprising you of a Polaroid developing. Hyunjin took it, fanning the Polaroid with a grin. He was excited to see it.

“I wasn’t ready!”

“Candid photos are better,” he sighed. “Don’t you know? Everything’s prettier when it’s genuine.”

“So you’re calling me pretty?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Have I ever said you’re ugly?”

Right. He has never. 

You prayed to God the heat on your face was from the sun and not from blushing.

Once the Polaroid fully developed, Hyunjin made sure he was the first to see it. To your dismay, he held it close to his face, shielding it from you. His cheeks dimpled, illustrating his happiness. You looked so pretty, the sunlight on your face giving you an angelic glow. If he looked closer, he was sure he’d see a halo. 

Hyunjin wanted to keep this forever. 

If he couldn’t freeze the time, he figured he’d trap the memories in photographs.

“Let me see!” you whined. “It’s a picture of me! I have the right to see it.”

Scampering towards him, you waved your hands, trying to get the photograph off his hand. To no avail, Hyunjin had quick reflexes much thanks to his soccer experience. 

“No! You can’t — it’s for my eyes only!”

“Ridiculous! That’s my face, Hyunnie!”

“It’s my camera film. So it’s mine!”

Neither one of you would let up, legs entangling against each other as you fought over the photograph. He was determined to not let you even see the picture. One of your palms pressed against the picnic blanket, the other reaching up towards his hand. Hyunjin used his free hand to push you gently but alas, he underestimated his own strength. In one swift move, you lost your balance, toppling over him. 

“Ow,” he fell back and winced in pain. He looked up, and all the back pain was suddenly replaced by shyness. There you were, on his lap — face just as flushed as his. 

Hyunjin didn’t know what to do now. 

Pathetically, he just stared into your eyes, finding himself getting caught in them. He could feel your hitched breaths against his chest, he was very aware of your trembling fingers on his arms. There was a strong urge to kiss you as his eyes fell onto your lips. He wondered how they’d feel on his lips. He imagined it in his head — missing the way your eyes stared at his lips too. 

If you were a flower, Hyunjin would be a bee. He desired you, eyes tracing the shape of your lips. Over, and over. If he kissed you, would your lips taste like honey? 

He ought to find out. Hesitantly, he inched his head closer to yours. The warmth of your breath against his skin marked the closeness between you.

Numerous scenarios flashed in Hyunjin’s mind. Of him kissing you senseless, then whispering a love confession in your ear. Of your cold fingers pressing into his skin as he tells you each perk of yours that he loved endlessly. The more he imagined, the closer he was. You shut your eyes, waiting for his lips to finally press onto yours. 

Paris. The one-way plane ticket to Paris.

Against his heart’s desire, his fingers cupped your chin instead. Subtly, he pulled back, eyes trailing back up to your eyes. He ignored the look of confusion in your eyes.

Reaching down, he pocketed the photograph. His heart clenched as he spoke, but he did anyway. 

“I win.”

The two words pulled you from your trance — they tore off your heart like paper. You blinked, watching the playful smirk that graced Hyunjin’s porcelain face. 

“Oh.”

The whole journey home, bitterness sat on Hyunjin’s tongue like the aftertaste of tangerine pulp. Did you want the kiss too, or had his libido fabricated things? 

Nevertheless, he couldn’t kiss you. Not when he had suitcases packed for Beaux-Art de Paris. Not when it’s all his parents could talk about. 

Minho’s words played in Hyunjin’s mind like a broken record. They served as a reminder of what could not be. For the sake of his heart, he told himself that it had all been a figment of his imagination.

Tension cloaked the front door of your house. Neither of you made a noise, save for the jingling keys in your carabiner. You observed Hyunjin, who was busy looking at his shoes. Once again, his mind wasn’t in his head. It had been that way for a few weeks. 

“See you soon?” you mumbled. 

Hyunjin looked up, nodding at your words. He pulled you into a hug, one that almost crushed your bones. Shakingly, he nuzzled his head into your neck, burying his face into the skin like you would dissolve if he didn't. It must’ve hurt his back but you made no comment, instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, in hopes it'll give him solace. By the front door you held him, so tight that it was as though the two of you were one, the curves of his fingers burning through your skin.

You didn’t know that it was a goodbye. It had to stay that way. 

Once more, his heart clenched in his chest. Two hands cupped your cheeks, as gentle as he could be, like you would break. He engraved this version of you into his memory — kind eyes boring into his with a soft smile plastered across the face he'd grown to adore. He vowed to always remember this face. 

Deeply, he inhaled his breath. Preparing the next words — lies to say to you, no matter how tight his chest felt.

“Yeah, see you soon.”

The last words Hwang Hyunjin muttered to you. 

seven.  

One day before your birthday. 

It had been two days since Hyunjin brought you to the meadow. You hadn’t seen him much, just glimpses of him as he played around with Kkami in his backyard. You figured that he was busy.

“Hello, I’m home!” you said in a sing-song voice as you stepped into the Hwang household. Kkami who’d usually greet you wasn’t in his usual spot, so you trudged straight to the kitchen, where Hyunjin’s mother was sitting. “Hi, Mrs Hwang.” 

She looked up, lips twitching into a smile, a cookie-cutter of Hyunjin’s. Under the kitchen light, you don’t miss the dried tears by her eyes. You pursed your lips, wondering if she was watching a sad drama. Hyunjin inherited his trait of easily crying from his mother, after all. 

“Hi, sweet girl,” she looked at your outfit from head to toe. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Oh,” you muttered, giving her a little twirl. “My birthday outfit! Is it pretty?”

“Of course.”

You smiled at her, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. Keenly, you looked around the kitchen for any traces of Hyunjin. You realized that the house seemed much quieter than usual, emptier than normal. 

“Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked. The reason why you’d come over was to show your best friend your birthday outfit. Now that you were there, he was nowhere to be seen. “Is he home?”

Sympathy materialized in the mother’s old eyes. She tilted her head at you, lips pursing as she thought of the correct words to say. 

“My girl, did he not tell you?”

Confusion would be an understatement. Hyunjin told you everything, everything — from pointless thoughts to his deepest, darkest secrets. You were his secret keeper, his companion — there was nothing he wouldn’t tell you.

Was there? 

It had to be something unimportant, right? Perhaps he was off to an art workshop and forgot to tell you. But looking at his mother, it felt like something big. You grew anxious under her sympathetic gaze. 

“Tell me what?” you questioned, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“We just came back from Incheon Airport. He’s on a plane to Paris,” the lady replied. She stood up, inching closer towards your trembling figure. “Did he not tell you, Yn? I thought he did.”

“Paris?” you asked, blinking. “Like. For a vacation?”

“No, sweetheart. Beaux-Arts de Paris. He got into the school.”

The words felt like bullets on skin, penetrating and chagrining you deeply. It felt unreal — a hoax.

You scoffed, “What? He wouldn’t go without telling me.” Your eyes searched for humour in his mother’s eyes. “Is this like, a birthday prank?”

Her eyes saddened even more. “No, sweetheart. He really went.”

Another betrayal came in the form of tears cascading down your eyes without warning. The emotions hit you faster than your brain could process things. Speechless, you took steps back from his mother, before running up the staircase to his room. 

He had to be there. Sitting in his swivel chair and laughing at your face. He’ll tell you it was a prank and wipe away your tears. 

Hyunjin was your best friend of a lifetime. He wouldn’t do this to you. He had to be there.

When the door to his room swung open, a sob was knocked out of your mouth. 

All traces of life in the bedroom were gone, save for the soft purrs of Kkami sleeping on the bed. The bed was stripped of its bedsheets, and the towels hanging behind the door were gone. The laundry bag was empty. 

All traces of Hyunjin were gone. 

The realization hit harder than his mother’s words. If the words hurt like bullets on skin, the sight of Hyunjin’s lifeless room felt like a knife twisted in your gut. It felt like sanguine dripping from wounds, and Hyunjin’s holding the knife. It felt like a betrayal. 

“Hyunjin,” his name slipped from your lips like a plea. “Hyunjin.” 

More choked sobs escaped your windpipes as you searched around the room. First, it was his wardrobe. The oak material was practically empty, all that remained were a couple of sleep tees and the shirts you’ve left over the years. You rummaged through the hangers, finding that he had brought one of your sweatshirts along. 

The confirmation of his departure was the emptiness of his study table. Each nook and cranny of his table used to feel like Hyunjin, from the stacks of sketchbooks to eraser dust. Everything was Hyunjin — but at that moment, there was nothing. There was only a void — that of his desk and your heart. 

Your best friend was truly gone. 

“Hyunjin,” the name wrestled its way past your lips again. This time, it was out of longing. “Hyunjin.” 

The manner in which you walked to his bed echoed your feelings. Quivering, like a toddler’s first time walking. Your body fell onto the bed, earning a soft whine from Kkami. Gently, you held Kkami in your arms, letting a stream of tears cascade down your cheeks. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to cry, to feel, to mourn. 

If someone were to tell you that Hyunjin out of all people would make you cry that much, you would’ve laughed. Never in a million years, you’d say. The only times he had made you cry were from laughter. 

“Kkami,” you cried. The chihuahua nuzzled its head into your arms, as though it could feel your sorrow. Perhaps it could. “I miss Hyunjin.”

The dog whined. It looked up to you, placing its paw onto your arm. You cried even more. 

“I wanted to tell him about how I feel today,” through sobs, you managed to speak. “How could he make me feel so many things in one day and disappear the other? He didn't even say goodbye.”

It felt like the chihuahua was mourning with you — the way it nudged its head onto your arm, letting out soft whimpers. As though it was telling you that things will be okay. 

You weren’t sure that it would. You spent your whole life with Hyunjin by your side, you had never known life without him. Now that he was ripped from your grasp, you didn’t know how to go on. No — he voluntarily released himself from your grasp, without warning. It was worse. 

Physical traces of Hyunjin in his room were gone. There was only his scent — the smell of his shampoo, and his cologne. It lingered in the room, mocking you.

In your melancholic state of mind, you could only weep.

eight. 

“Coffee, or tea?”

A female voice broke Hyunjin from his trance. He looked up at the stewardess standing by his seat, the sweatshirt doused in your scent crumpling in his tight grip. 

“I want to get off this plane,” sat on his tongue and dissolved. He took a deep breath. 

“Um,” he looked at the cart, “Plain water, please?”

Coffee would only force Hyunjin to stay awake, forcing him to listen to his own brain’s torments for 14 hours straight. Tea reminded him too much of you, of the times when you were little and would make him play tea party with you. He’ll think about the times you’d cheekily kiss his cheek, an attempt to woo him into playing with you. It worked each time. 

The stewardess nodded, handing him a water bottle branded with the aeroplane’s logo. He muttered a thank you, yet the stewardess still didn’t walk away. She looked nice, her eyes analyzing Hyunjin told him that he must’ve looked like the epitome of a wreck.  

“First time flying?” she questioned. It wasn’t his first time, having gone on many vacations before yet he nodded. “I see. It’ll be fine, just sit back and relax.”

The woman, whose name tag said Chaewon flashed Hyunjin a hospitality smile — one he didn’t think he deserved — then walked away. Hyunjin pursed his lips, wishing that she hadn’t walked away. He didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts, he didn’t want to be awake, he didn’t want to be in this plane — there were a lot of things he didn’t want to do, but had to do. 

Hyunjin wanted to turn back.

Silently, he looked out the window, watching as the landscapes of Seoul grew smaller, slowly becoming covered with clouds. He desperately wished to get out, praying to God that the plane would miraculously turn back and the tableau of Seoul would become bigger. Had he told the stewardess named Chaewon he wanted to get off, would they have let him? Had he told his parents he didn’t want to go to Paris, would they have understood?

If he tells you he’s sorry, would you forgive him? 

Regrets and memories clouded his mind, tears making their way down his cheeks. Each thought strangled his heart, and he could feel it physically aching. In a melancholic state of mind he sat, clinging onto your sweatshirt like it was his lifeline, allowing slumber to slowly take over. 

The break from his own thoughts did not last long enough.

Seven hours later, Hyunjin woke up to dried tears on his cheeks. He straightened his posture and glanced at the window, feeling a wave of emotions at the change of landscapes. Hyunjin wasn’t sure in which city they were flying over, but he could say with certainty that it did not look like Seoul. It did not feel like home, it did not feel like you. 

Unable to fall back to sleep, he couldn’t help the thoughts that poisoned his mind. Looking over the landscapes, he came to a realization much too painful for his heart to bear. 

You and him — you were the Sun, and he was the Moon. Two people of different circumstances, who’ll never meet, ripped away from the merciless hands of time. For your timezones were different — horizons even more. 

As a wave of new tears descended, Hyunjin wondered if he would ever forget about you.

The answer came to him one afternoon three years later, as he laid on the couch in his Parisian apartment. 

No, he’d never forget about you. At least not in three years. Maybe not even in five. 

Sunlight seeped in through the balcony, providing Hyunjin the warmth he wasn’t able to receive from a person. His roommate was a French guy who was always out and about, leaving Hyunjin to soak in his own company for hours on end. Sometimes, for days. Hyunjin loved and hated it at the same time. 

His limbs stretched across the burgundy couch, a yawn eliciting past his lips. Brown eyes stared at the canvas in front of him, black and white hues scattered on white, forming a half-finished painting of you. 

Years later, and you remained at the back of his mind — his muse.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

nine.  

There are five stages of grief. 

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, then acceptance. Denial was the hardest for you, having spent your entire birthday staring at the front door of your house, praying Hyunjin would walk in. When your friends sang you a Happy Birthday, it sounded like a morose ballad playing from a broken record. Without Hyunjin, gloom sat at the centre of even the happiest things. 

Then came a sixth stage — one that seemed to exist for you.

Motivation.

After coming to acceptance that your best friend had gone, without any farewell, you spent many hours a day in the ballet studio. Pirouette, arabesque, plié — you managed to polish each move with the amount of time you spent cooped up in the studio. You weren’t born with ballet feet, but the times spent in pointe shoes had somehow moulded you into having them. 

Perhaps, it was distraction, disguised as motivation.

Nevertheless, the tireless hours of practice granted you a position in the Paris Ballet School.

Paris felt bittersweet when you first landed. It was the city of your dreams, but the reminiscence of the person it took from you made you loathe it. 

Withal, life had to go on. To cope with the Parisian lifestyle, you managed to get a job at a cafe near your academy — Desir Cafe. You worked night shifts as a kitchen crew but if traffic was overwhelming in the afternoons, your shitty excuse of a boss would make you come in anyway.

Unfortunately for you, it was one of those days. Clinks and sizzles reverberated in the kitchen, the peg board overwhelmed with sticky notes of orders. You were everywhere in the kitchen, from piping icing on cupcakes to sprinkling chocolate rice on pastries. 

“Yn,” the main baker yelled, “Tell Double C’s we can’t stock up on macarons! We’re out of almond flour!” 

The Double C’s — Charlotte, and Colette. They were a duo who worked as waitresses, always gossiping. Birds of the same feather, attached by the hip. 

Exasperated, you headed to the front, swinging the kitchen door open to see the duo gossiping. Charlotte was leaning in towards Colette, whispering into her ear, earning giggles from the other. You sighed, wondering what the topic was that afternoon. Curious as to who they were gossiping about, you looked towards the direction they were looking. 

Seated alone at the corner of the cafe was a guy, blonde hair gleaming golden from the sunlight seeping through the big window. His utmost focus was on the sketchbook in front of him, frail fingers dancing across paper, entrancing any eyes which fell upon him. You couldn’t help but stare, your face gradually contorting into disbelief.

He resembled too much like Hyunjin — your Hyunjin. 

Your gaze lingered on the man, analyzing each crease of his face, matching it with the one you had in mind. He looked just like Hyunjin, from the shape of his nose to the mole under his eye. The only difference was the hair. Hyunjin’s hair was raven black, but the person in the cafe had golden blonde hair. You felt your throat tighten. If the man sitting at the corner was him, then time had done good on him. He was beautiful, face sculptured beautifully by time’s gentle hands.

“Ooh, look who’s ogling!” a high-pitched voice interrupted you. You looked up to see the Double C’s looking at you, wiggling their eyebrows mischievously. Charlotte smirked, “Think the guy’s cute?”

“Huh? What guy?” you lied, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

Colette rolled her eyes. “The dude over there! Don’t lie, you think he’s cute.” The brunette wiggled her eyebrows even more, subtly pointing at the man. 

You didn’t say anything else, but your eyes travelled back to the familiar silhouette. The sense of familiarity tugged on fragile heartstrings the more you looked at him. Colette could sense your curiosity, so she parted her lips to speak.

“That’s Hyunjin. He’s a student in Beaux-Arts de Paris,” she muttered, unbeknownst to her the mixed emotions that dawned upon you. “He comes here almost every afternoon. Maybe that’s why you’ve never seen him before. He’s cute, isn’t he?”

Excitedly, Charlotte nodded her head. “A total heart-throb, honestly.”

“I mean…” your voice trailed, “He’s quite alright.”

How were you supposed to react to finally seeing the one who got away? Were you supposed to feel excited, or upset? It was like the moon had suddenly dropped down onto your lap. 

You were confused.

Charlotte continued speaking, not realizing the mixture of emotions in your face. “Sometimes, the students have exhibitions about ten minutes from here. His artworks always make it to the exhibitions. I’ve seen them, and they’re really beautiful.”

You turned towards her, “Exhibitions?”

She nodded, still naive as to your shift in behaviour. “I think the school has an exhibition every three months or so.”

Unfaltering, your eyes bored holes in Hyunjin’s back. He was in his own little world, evidently absorbed in whatever piece he was working on. Just like that, the memories you spent years suppressing came rushing back. 

It was unfair, the impact he had on you. There he was, lounging in a corner while your heart grappled in your chest. He looked older, better — and you were still the little girl in the tree house. Swaying your feet as they dangled, as though you had all the time in the world.

Charlotte and Colette exchanged looks as you stared at him. To them, you were simply developing a crush on a stranger. They wouldn’t understand the conflict brewing in you, they wouldn’t be able to comprehend the ache that stirred in the depths of your heart.

“What? You’re interested in him?” Charlotte spoke, breaking you off your trance. You looked at her, blinking. “Don’t even try. I’ve tried. I think he’s gay.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“He’s not gay — oh my god, Lottie!” it was Colette’s turn to speak. Playfully, she smacked the other’s arm. “I asked that guy he’s always with, the songwriter — Felix. Cute guy, that one. Felix told me that he’s got a secret lover or something.”

“Secret lover?”

“Yeah. Apparently, he likes to draw this one girl. His sketchbook’s filled with her,” Colette murmured, glancing at Hyunjin. “Felix asked her who she was, and he said it’s a girl of his dreams.”

Your heart dropped. You weren’t sure to which news you should react first, either Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin, or that he has a secret lover. Either way, it made you pathetically jealous. Your heartstrings thrummed in anger as you imagined a beautiful French girl spread out on his bed, and Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin.

How could he go on with his life when you spent years mourning him?

Crimson tainted your lip as you bit on it hard, the taste of metal at the tip of your tongue. 

Perhaps, you never made it past the anger stage of your grief.

ten.

You truly tried to be happy for Hyunjin.

For days, weeks — you spent convincing yourself that you had to be happy for him. Sure, he hurt you three years ago. Sure, you spent years in agony, regretting not telling him how you felt earlier, wondering what could’ve been. Sure, you hoped that you’d see him in Paris and he’d tell you that he’s in love with you and kiss you senseless — but those were just desperate prayers, weren’t they? Those were simply hopeful scenarios. You hadn’t expected them to come true, had you?

Hyunjin was your best friend of years. He deserved happiness, even when you didn’t feel happy. You had to let things go. You had to be happy for him.

Clearly, you failed at convincing yourself.

In front of a building you stood, the sound of people walking past becoming white noise. You stared at the banner standing in front of you, the words Autumn Exhibition displayed, with the logo of Beaux-Arts de Paris at the top. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

A week ago, Charlotte told you that the university would be holding another exhibition, and Hyunjin’s artworks most likely made it into the exhibition. You knew then, that you had to go. If you didn’t get to see him, then you at least wanted to see his pieces. To not be a part of his life was devastating, you wished to at least witness glimpses of it. 

9:45 p.m. was displayed on your screen, people were beginning to leave the exhibition. There weren’t many people around, which was what you were hoping for. Visiting the exhibition in daylight meant potentially bumping into Hyunjin, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

One day you ought to meet him, but not today. Not when the fragments of your heart have yet to be mended.

After taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to step into the exhibition. A gust of wind hit your face, and you shivered, clutching your coat tight. The art display seemed to be painting-themed, the way frames of canvases were scattered around the building. Baroque paintings were displayed all over, each piece as beautiful as skies at dusk.

The tapping of your heels against the ceramic tiles sounded as you walked, the romantic lighting of the room providing you with a sense of comfort. Wildly, your eyes observed each piece, letting your heart be swayed by the beauty. 

They were all beautiful — but they didn’t feel like Hyunjin. 

Until your eyes trailed to a certain piece.

It was the centrepiece, the piece — little bulbs of lights were installed above the frame, making the piece feel alive. The moment your gaze fell on the artwork, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, taking hurried steps towards it. You stared, unable to take your eyes off the hues on the canvas.

There weren’t many hues, just black and white. It depicted two figures on swings. You couldn’t see the figures clearly but you could tell they looked happy. You could see through the strokes of paint that they were happy — though the artist not so. There was a certain sadness in the painting, one that screamed nostalgia. 

The longer you looked at the piece, the more you realized. 

It was a fragment of your memory. 

Your breath hitched. In came a memory of you and Hyunjin — running around the park before playing on swings. It was a particularly memorable day, you could recall falling off the swing and Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, kissing the bruises on your knees with the tenderness of a feather. It was the first time you felt so protected, and so loved. 

A rush of emotions overcame you, you wondered if that was how Hyunjin felt when he painted it. Had he thought of you, and wept by his easel? Had he stained his cheeks with charcoal as he wiped stray tears off his face? 

You wondered, so much so that you failed to realize a silhouette entering the display. 

Hyunjin didn’t enjoy art exhibitions in daylight. They felt pompous. The people who visited the exhibitions would usually walk around casually, and took photos. They didn’t harbour any sort of deep appreciation towards art, they didn’t sit and admire.

Therefore, Hyunjin loved revisiting exhibitions in the comfort of twilight. When the expositions were empty, he enjoyed revisiting them, taking his sweet time to admire each piece. 

When he spotted a figure standing before his piece — his most vulnerable piece, he felt his heart drop. He watched from afar as this person observed the artwork, body as still as a mannequin. He had never witnessed someone admire a piece this intensely, especially with it being one of his pieces. He felt flattered, his heart swelling in pride and joy. 

Silently, Hyunjin approached the figure. Usually, he was shy, not the type to approach people first but somehow, he felt the strong urge to this time. Fate was pulling him by his heartstrings.

“That’s my painting,” Hyunjin spoke, ensuring his voice was as soft as possible. 

The sudden voice startled you. You whipped your head towards the source of the noise, eyes widened in shock. They widened even more at the sight before you. 

Hyunjin’s breath hitched. His heartbeats escalated, taking in the figure standing in front of him. His fingers dug into the skin of his thumb, lips quivering. Brown doe eyes mirrored yours.

“Wh — what?” he spoke again, breathless. “Yn?”

A few steps were taken, inching closer towards you. His eyes scanned your face, lips quivering even more when he realized that it was you — you were real, and you were standing in front of him. You looked the same as you did three years ago, except more beautiful. How’d you get more beautiful? The passage of time had seemingly been good to you, the way it had carved your face into one Hyunjin could imagine himself filling his canvases with.

“Hyunjin,” you willed yourself to speak. You ignored the way your eyes watered. “It’s you.”

“It’s you, too. You’re here.”

Another few, brave steps were taken. You, on the other hand, didn’t move an inch. 

“I hate you,” the words spilt past sanguine mouth before you could stop them, its venom contrasting the hushed tone of your voice. They crushed Hyunjin’s heart, though he knew he deserved them. “But I missed you.”

“I’m sorry,” was all that he could say. Hyunjin meant it. He really was sorry. He was sorry as he sent you back from the meadow, too cowardly to bid you goodbye. He was sorry when he packed his bags, stealing one of your sweatshirts for solace. He was sorry when he was on the plane, wishing he could turn back time. He was sorry when he painted numerous portraits of you. He was sorry as he stood before you, watching tears flow down your cheeks because it was the least he could do — a form of punishment for what he had done to you.

You shook your head, palms rushing towards your face to wipe away tears. 

“It’s not enough, I know,” he mumbled, moving closer towards you to wipe your tears, like it was instinct, feeling his heart clench when you took steps back. “But I truly am sorry.”

“You didn’t even say goodbye,” you sobbed, vision blurry. “You didn’t even contact me.”

“I know, Yn, I know — I’m sorry. I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t,” he rambled, cupping your cheeks and rubbing on the skin. You allowed him to. “I swear, I wanted to write to you, but I was too embarrassed, and by the time I had enough courage it was already too late.”

Sobs wrestled their way past your lips, barely able to form coherent words. You kept shaking your head, blurting out the words you’ve kept for years.

“You just left me, Hyunjin — you left me. A day before my birthday,” your whimpers got louder, “I wanted to tell you I’m in love with you, on my birthday. Hell, three years later and I’m still in love with you.”

Hyunjin’s face paled. He had expected curses, and cries — but he hadn’t expected that. Anything, but that. His limbs moved before his brain could process things, lifting your chin to meet eyes. Your eyes were tinted with tears, but you were still beautiful. You’re always beautiful.

“What?” he squeezed your cheeks, “Yn, what?”

“You heard me. I’m not saying it again. It's fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck,” he exhaled. Hyunjin knew he was supposed to feel remorse, but God — his heart bloomed at the words you had whispered to him. You’re in love with him. You’re in love with him, the same way he was in love with you. “Fuck, Yn. You can't just say shit like that.”

Feather-like touches grazed your lips. There was a certain look in Hyunjin's eyes, one that you couldn't quite figure out — they were a look of longing. How could you know it was longing when you had never bear witness to them? You could feel his breath against your face, warm like his fingertips.

“You have no fucking idea how long I've been in love with you. You have no idea how much I missed you. Fuck, I think about you every fucking day,” he whispered, “You have no idea how much I regret getting on that plane.”

At that moment, all you could feel was Hyunjin. His deep, brown eyes staring into yours and his thumb pressing onto your lip.

“Kiss me,” you whispered back, “Kiss me, Hwang Hyunjin.”

And kiss you, he did. His lips crashed against yours with fervour, moving his lips to the same beat as his racing heart. You kissed back in the same manner, letting out the emotions you had bottled up. 

I love you, I love you — each movement of his lips was a love confession, etching his adoration onto the curves of your lips. You caressed his cheeks akin to holding stars in your palms — careful, precious.

Finally, you pulled apart to catch your breaths, bodies heaving against each other. 

“Please, give me a second chance.”

It’s odd the way human minds work, because at that very moment, you were reminded of Colette's words. Ones that mentioned a rumoured secret lover.

“But,” you felt silly for saying it, “Your secret lover?”

“My secret lover?” the boy's eyebrows furrowed. He then chuckled upon realization. The rumour must've spread to you. “Ah, that secret lover. It's you, idiot.” 

He smiled. You didn’t think anyone could look as beautiful as he did.

“It's always been you.”

eleven.  

“Careful — come on, get under here.”

Giggles echoed in the alleyways as two shadows lingered in the darkness of midnight. It was raining, the pavements darkening with wetness and the wind howling a sweet melody. At that particular hour, under the moonlight, Paris looked like the city of love. 

You rushed out of the exposition hall, getting under Hyunjin’s leather jacket. He’d promised you the date of your lifetime that night, and he wasn’t one to break his promises. 

Hyunjin’s back was damp from the rain, but it didn’t matter as long as not a droplet landed on your body. It only took a few minutes (and a lot of giggles in between) to reach Hyunjin’s so-called secret spot. 

Streetlights shone on a bench, and clusters of flowers surrounded a little pond. The spot overlooked the city, you could see the city lights from all the way up here. You gasped in awe, it’s no wonder Hyunjin insisted on coming here.

“So beautiful,” you whispered. Hyunjin smiled softly, moving closer towards you on the bench and wrapped an arm around your waist.

While fondly looking at your visage, he muttered. “Yeah, it’s pretty.”

“How’d you find this place?”

“I found it while I was walking one night,” he explained, resting his head on yours. You could smell his shampoo in this closeness. “I was sad. This garden reminded me of the one we used to go to when we were kids.”

Your heart swelled at the confession. 

“It does resemble that one a lot.”

The skies were still drizzling rain, but you were both a little sheltered much thanks to the oak tree above you. Only droplets dripped, falling onto your head but it was a nice sensation. Besides, you couldn’t feel the cold when you’re nuzzled in Hyunjin’s arm, blanketed in his familiar warmth. You allowed silence to third-wheel you, eyes busied with observing the sight. Silence was always comfortable with Hyunjin. The time spent apart hadn’t changed that. 

He wouldn’t leave you alone, his skin constantly touching yours. It burned against you. You didn’t mind it. Instead, you basked in his love, listening to the sounds of his heartbeats as your head rested on his chest. He intertwined your fingers together, his thumb rubbing against yours. He wouldn’t let go of you, not even when he bent down to pluck a flower, slipping the daffodil onto your ear. 

“I missed you,” he murmured. You weren’t sure how much he’d repeated that phrase but you liked it. “I truly did.”

For the thousandth time that night, you responded. “I missed you too.”

The conversation changed into one about your lives, catching up on each other’s shenanigans. It was comfortable, being with Hyunjin. Topics changed seamlessly. You didn’t have to put much effort into talking to him, you just had to be there.

Softly, his hands moved towards your feet, taking off one of your shoes. He held onto your ankle, tracing his pointer across your sole. You giggled, the feather-like touches tickled. 

“You still have the feet of a ballerina.”

“Of course, silly,” you scoffed, “I am one after all.”

“I’m so glad that your dreams came true,” he whispered, putting your leg down. He cupped your cheek, showcasing a fond smile that stretched to his ears. “I’m really happy that you’re here.”

“Of course,” you repeated. “You told me you’d be wherever I am. It’s only fair I returned the favour.”

The words knocked out Hyunjin’s breath, and it filled his soul with so much adoration, he felt like he could burst. A pleading expression was written all over his porcelain visage, the way in which he squeezed your hand expressing his feelings even more.

“Please,” he pleaded. “I need to be yours.”

You kissed him, for the second time that night.

“I’m already yours, Hyunnie.”

twelve.  

Things with Hyunjin had been going exceptionally well. 

After the fated night, you carried on with so much happiness that you practically beamed everywhere you went. One time when you clocked into work, the Double C’s made kissy noises at you, and Charlotte had whispered, “You must’ve had crazy good sex last night.”

You couldn’t deny it, of course.

Date nights with Hyunjin happened thrice a week, with coffee runs in between classes. The Paris Ballet School and Beaux-Arts de Paris weren’t that far from each other, allowing you to sneak lunches together almost daily. Though you had to admit that even if the universities were far, Hyunjin definitely wouldn’t mind spending extra time just to see you. Sometimes, he’d watch you dance, and sometimes, you’d watch him paint. 

It was like you were both making up for the lack of each other the past three years.

After just two weeks of your relationship, you were acquainted with the comfort of Hyunjin’s home. His roommate was barely home, so you felt comfortable with coming over often. Most weekends, you’d spend the night over. 

Morning birds chirped a jolly ballad, waking you from your slumber. You stretched, feeling the heat of Hyunjin’s skin against yours. You couldn’t help the smile that grazed your face when you looked at him, fast asleep under the duvets beside you. Sleepily, you pressed a kiss onto his bare shoulder, then traced the memories of last night, tattooed on his skin in the form of bruises. It pulled a whine from him, moving under the duvet to press himself impossibly closer towards you.

“Flower,” he mumbled, morning voice husky, “I'm cold.”

“Then come cuddle.”

He did as told, wrapping strong arms around you. You felt his fingers ghost against your naked spine, sending heat straight to your core. You couldn't help the whimper that left you, earning a playful grin from your boyfriend. 

“It's too early to get in the mood, no? Baby?”

Flushed, you smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

Hyunjin giggled, leaning towards you to press kisses onto your face. Mornings with him were often spent like this — limbs entangled, as if you were one. 

“Need to shower, baby,” he sighed, “Have an exhibition today.”

To your dismay, he slowly pulled away from you, missing the warmth of his body. 

“You coming to the exposition?”

“Of course,” you hummed. “Go shower. Can I borrow your laptop while you're in the shower?”

“Yeah, baby. The password's your birthday.”

He got up from the bed, and you flushed as you looked at his bare body. Unluckily for you, your boyfriend quickly noticed your flushed face, taking it as an opportunity to throw a pillow at you and call you a pervert. You rolled your eyes, watching him enter the bathroom before getting up, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. 

You walked towards his study to retrieve his laptop, smiling at the artworks displayed on his peg board. One was of you — a painting of the Polaroid he took of you back in the meadow. The Polaroid itself sat at the back of his phone case. He had never taken it out since the first time he put it in back then.

Whilst humming to a melody, you kicked in the digits of your birthday. The laptop unlocked, showcasing the unclosed tabs. 

Your eyes widened at the words written on the screen.

Congratulations, you've been chosen for a student exchange programme to Rome.

Your heart skipped a beat. Repeatedly, your eyes skimmed the words on the screen. You didn't mean to pry but you scrolled through the email, feeling your heart sink upon seeing the date it was sent.

Over a week ago. 

Yet Hyunjin hadn't told you anything. 

After all these years, he was still keeping secrets from you. You couldn't handle it, and so for the sake of your heart you exited the tab, and shut down the laptop. Careful as to not make much noise, you got dressed. 

“Hyunjin,” you knocked on the bathroom door. “Need to be at the academy now. Bye.”

You needed to be away from him — you needed to clear your head.

thirteen.

You hadn't seen Hyunjin for a week.

The texts from him you didn't avoid, responding each time he sent a message. However, you'd been dodging his requests of meeting, under the guise of practice when in truth, you hadn’t gone for classes in a week. You spent your days moping in your apartment. 

Perhaps it was a little childish of you to do, but you couldn't bear the thought of going through what you did before. You'd tasted a life without Hyunjin, and you were certain you didn't want to live through it again. This was your way of mentally preparing for that life again. 

Your limbs lazily stretched across the cotton duvet as a vinyl played in the background. A melodramatic song played, matching the current tune of your heart. You weren't entirely sure what time it was, but the sound of the apartment bell ringing hinted that it was afternoon. It must be the takeout your roommate ordered.

“Reine,” a familiar voice reverberated in your apartment. “Where's Yn?”

“In her bedroom,” your roommate, Reine replied in her thick French accent. “She's been in there moping all week.”

Damn you, Reine. 

Quickly, you buried yourself in your duvet, anticipating the footsteps which approached your room. Soon, your door swung open, and you could smell the white gardenia in his cologne.

“My flower,” his voice tempted you to look, “What’s going on, sweet girl?”

It didn’t help that each syllable that slipped past his lips felt like honey.

You felt his hands pull down your duvet before you came face to face with your boyfriend. He stood before you, hair slicked back and the white blouse he wore accentuated his shoulders. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, patches of peonies and daffodils peeking from the wrapper. 

You didn’t utter any words, simply looking at him with watery doe eyes. He didn’t miss the glint of tears, immediately setting the bouquet on your nightstand to get onto the bed. Tenderly, he pulled you onto his lap.

“You look so sad,” he mumbled, “Can my sweet girl please tell me why she’s so sad?”

Damn, him. How were you supposed to stand a chance when he was so ridiculously handsome and sweet?

Trembling, you parted your lips to speak. 

“You’re hiding things from me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What things, baby?”

Your eyes shot daggers at him, bottom lip forming into a pout. Hyunjin had to stop himself from leaning in and biting it.

“You got offered to an exchange student programme,” you finally bit the bullet. “You’re planning on keeping it a secret and just leaving me again, aren’t you?”

Ah.

Hyunjin’s eyes softened. He sighed, caressing your cheek in his hand. He shook his head as his free hand rested on your thigh, massaging the supple skin.

“No, I’m rejecting it,” he answered. “I didn’t tell you because I thought there was no point in telling you if I didn’t even want to go.”

“What?” you responded, voice a little higher than you intended it to be. Your eyes scanned his for any lies. “Hyunjin — it’s a good opportunity.”

“What, you don’t want me here anymore?” he joked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Baby, Paris is already enough for me. I don’t really want to move again.”

You nodded at his words. A huge part of you felt relieved — and you felt awful for feeling that way. 

Love, sometimes, is about being selfish after all.

“Were you sad because you thought I was going?” your boyfriend queried, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You shrugged. “A little. I was more mad that you didn’t tell me.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, I just didn’t mention it because it felt insignificant.”

“I want you to tell me things,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck. It left goosebumps in its wake. “I want to know these things.”

“Okay," he mumbled. Something about his compliance made you feel fonder of him. "I'll start telling you these things."

A sigh of relief left your lips. You had known Hyunjin for years, but being with him was different. A good kind of difference. It would take you a while to adjust to these changes — but it was the kind of changes you'd want to adjust to.

Hyunjin's fingers trailed to your hips, ghosting over your skin until they reached your thighs. He traced the stretch marks there, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You couldn't help the whine that left your mouth, and the heat that arose, tainting the tips of your ears in crimson. Hyunjin enjoyed this — flustering you with his ministrations. He allowed you to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering as he felt your lips litter kisses on his most sensitive spots.

"I love you," he confessed, like honey dripping from lips. "Promise I'll be wherever you are."

disclaimer — © 2024 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.

taglist: @zoe8stay , @starlostseungmin , @starlostlaiba , @hwajin , @sleepyleeji , @skizzel-reblogs, @jdopes-recorder , @sherryblossom , @cb97whoree , @alyszaen , @aaliyahxsx , @jeonginsyoungestsibling , @hyunluvxo , @bokk-minnie , @ghostyycat7 , @fortunatelyhertragedy @yongbokkari @ameliesaysshoo @seoli-16 @jisungsdaydreamer @soobnny @seolboba @in2heartz @jehhskz @astraystayyh @mnwrld

[with-my-calamitous-love]

PUT ON YOUR RECORDS AND REGRET ME

katsuki bakugou x reader

should you open the door after all he’s done?

part 2/3

a/n: ty for all the love on part 1 🤍

not saying this is a major vent based off of personal experience but im not not saying that

inspired by high infidelity

to say you didn’t always have suspicions would be a lie. you didn’t want to believe them. broken locks, shifty text messages, numbers you didn’t always recognize, and the slight feeling of him pulling away. you didn’t think he’d actually do it. and honestly, neither did he.

alcohol does crazy things to a person. and so when you, your boyfriend, and all his friends decided to go out to a bar to celebrate his birthday, you knew it wasn’t going to be a tame night. but you didn’t think you’d go home, alone and crying, the scent of whiskey lingering on your clothes.

he bent the truth too far that night. he came to you in the morning, his hangover evident by his eye bags and poor choice of clothing. he still smelled like alcohol from the night before.

and despite all that, you still listened. listened to his story about how he was whisked away in a drinking game with kaminari and kirishima, and bakugou was supposedly the only one sober enough to take the two guys home. that made a convenient explanation as to why he left you all alone with no ride home.

and pathetically so, you wanted to believe him. despite the radio silence from everyone the everyone the previous night, the smell of perfume on his shirt that smelled too strong to be yours, and the taste of someone else when he kissed your lips.

and for each day after that, you learned more and more the many different ways you can kill the one you love. the worst way is never loving them enough.

it started by your calls going straight to voicemail- each time he’d say that his phone died while he was patrolling. then constantly needing to call kirishima, the only other person who knows him like you do, desperately needing help to manage his emotions. the redhead had infinite patience for your boyfriend, and you were thankful for that- but you also wondered what haunted bakugou so much that he couldn’t go to you for.

he wanted to play the role of the good guy, even if it was just that- a role. he wanted to be who you deserved, even after he earned a big black stain on his morality after the crime he committed. he wanted things to just be normal, but it couldn’t. he was lying through his teeth and you both knew it, and yet couldn’t say anything about it.

until april 29th. exactly 9 days after his birthday. 9 days after what he did.

he breaks it off quick. he tells you that he’s not treating you right, that he’s a shitty boyfriend and a shitty person. that he needs to be a better person and that he can’t make you wait for him. and so, katsuki bakugou leave safe and stranded.

and in a way, he was right. being a shitty boyfriend, being everything you don’t deserve was only a part of it- he knew that if he stayed with you any longer, the guilt from the truth would eat him alive. so selfishly, he chose to preserve himself and to let you hurt. that might have killed him more.

you didn’t even bother to get your things from his apartment. in fact, you couldn’t get out of bed. because you kneel you were lied too yet you didn’t want to revel in the truth. the truth that katsuki bakugou wasn’t just a shitty boyfriend, he was a shitty cheating boyfriend.

you denied everything for the days to come. you hoped it was all just some twisted dream, and that what happened wasn’t really happening. that was all so until the day you got a visit from a certain redhead.

it was a normal day. you were lounging in your apartment, needing time away from all the heartache in the world. you treated your suspicions like a secret. maybe if you didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t have actually happened. as if simple denial could erase reality.

the sun is setting when your doorbell rings. when you answer, its kirishima. your heart sinks, wondering why he’d be visiting you directly. you wanted to hope for the best, but you didn’t exactly know what to expect.

the redhead grimaces when he sees the way he breaks your heart. he knows he’s doing the right thing, but he hates how the right thing is causing you so much pain. he explains to you the truth of that night, behind katsuki’s sudden break up. how it wasn’t just because he felt like he wasn’t good enough- what he did actually proved that fear. kirishima explains how bakugou got absolutely shit-faced drunk, and how he went home with who was not, in fact, you. he tries to salvage it, by saying that katsuki didn’t hesitate to cut her off, to tell her it was a mistake and that he shouldn’t have done it. he was also quick to tell his best friend how god damn unmanly it was for him to cheat on you. he says that he couldn’t take it anymore watching you being lied even during the split.

“i’m so fucking sorry, [y/n].” he concludes his confession, his red eyes looking into yours. he hates that this is happening. he loves bakugou, and by extension he loves you, and he can’t stand the idea of this happening to his two favourite people in the world.

you don’t say much as he leaves. what could you say, anyway?

katsuki bakugou had cheated on you.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

after your suspicions were confirmed, you finally mustered up enough courage to get out of bed. you went over to his apartment and quietly collected your things, your heart racing out of your chest just being in his presence. and of course, he tries to stop you. he knows you’ve learned the truth and it makes his stomach churn.

“fucking some other girl is one thing, but lying to me too.” you hiss, both of you wincing at the sound of your voice cracking under all the heart. his usual smart ass mouth is silent, knowing damn well he deserves the accusations. what hurts more is seeing the tears run down your face, dragging the mascara down your cheeks. “you told me it was for my own good. t-that you needed to work on yourself. not that you cheated!”

“…i didn’t wanna hurt you even more.” he finally admits, as if pleading guilty in front a judge. and you actually scoff.

“you coward.” you hiss.

“yeah, i’m a FUCKING coward, [y/n]! i know!” he raises his voice, but you’re too numb from the hurt to care. “i couldn’t live with myself! waking up next to you knowing i fucking betrayed you. i had to let you go. you deserved more than me!”

and honestly, you don’t know what to think. you’re so angry and hurt over the fact that he cheated on you, lied, and broke up with you all in the same month.

you could see the guilt eating him up from the inside. you could see how your tear stained face right now was killing him. his anger was like an anchor dug straight through his heart. you could see in his eyes he’s been wanting to tear his own skin off after what he did to you.

you hastily wipe your eyes dry, turning away from him and moving towards the front door. his legs that were glued to the ground finally move, catching your wrist just as your about to turn the door knob.

and you actually wait. you wait to see what he’ll say. you wait to hear all his shitty excuses, or even to taste his lips and taste something that isn’t you. deep down in your heart, you hope he fights for you. that he’ll fight to keep you around, to love you again.

what hurts the most is that he doesn’t.

“…get home safe, babe.”

you nod, eyes welling up again before exiting his apartment. the walk back down is silent, even as your good friend, shouto, opens the door for you. he drives you home, playing all the breakup songs he knows you love. he’s silent, but he knows its what you need right now.

once he pulls up to your driveway, he finally musters up the courage to speak.

“…i’m sorry, [y/n].”

his voice is so velvet, a stark contrast to your ex boyfriend’s. but honestly, everyones attempts to talk to you all seem futile. you sigh, looking over at your friend with tear stained eyes.

“you know the worst part?”

“whats the worst part?”

“…i think i still love him.”

and thats the worst part.

reminder that cheating is a horrible thing to do and love does not equal forgiveness. this is simply just fiction! 🪞

part 3 soon! 🪽

tags: 💿

@katsukified @theclassiccherry @the-dumpster-fire-of-life @kitkatlover015 @mia-luvs @mikestuffffs @sleepyk0dyz @blue-chup @sleepieenaps @devils-adversary @darling-eos @dilance-rock @jxstmxlly15 @suki0 @morganalatina21 @khadeejanaur @fictional-men-dum @pretty-sparkle-bomb @naladrawssss @whenanafallsinlove

[chris-prank]

Villain sidekick yandere x GN hero reader

A good influence? Part 1

Warning: Manipulation, kidnapping, obsessive and creepy behavior

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

🧪 You were a well known hero, going around saving the city from dangerous threats.

🧪 One of your enemies was a supervillain known as “Fatalité” who worked with the scientist “Dr. Seraph”. 

🧪 Even if you got to put a stop to their evil plans time and time again, they always seemed to get back on their feet and challenge you once more. 

🧪 Between the two, Dr. Seraph did seem a bit less evil. Once he even got slapped by Fatalité, because he hesitated to attack you while you were saving a child. So you always had a bit more of empathy for him, not hesitating to be less harsh during fights. 

🧪 He was not a good person by any means, but you always find it a bit ironic how he was pushed around by his boss or the other henchmans. He would get so easily startled and lose his composure.  

🧪 One day, you accidently fell into one of his traps, while on a mission with your teammates. 

🧪 You woke up in his lab, tied up to a metal board. Before he had noticed you were awake, the scientist was working on a giant computer, while excitedly muttering to himself.

🧪 You looked to your side to see a little table covered with torture devices. That’s when the short man noticed your conscious state. 

🧪 “Fatalié will be so proud of me! You’re done, hero.” He tried to give a confident smile, but you could still feel his nervousness seeping through it. 

🧪 Despite the deadly situation you were in, you couldn’t help but make joke to turn this situation into ridicule.

🧪 “Really ? Does that mean I won’t get to see your cute face anymore?” You made a fake pout. 

🧪 Wait…Was it just you or did he blushed? His sudden stuttering and his eyes darting away from yours, was a clear indicator that your comment had affected him. Just not in the way you had expected.

🧪 You needed to take advantage of this, since there was no way you could escape alone in this room filled with deadly weapons. You had to buy enough time for your colleague to come and find you. 

🧪 You decided to continue with the praise. Saying how smart he was and that his boss couldn’t do his evil deed without him. 

🧪 “R-Really? No one ever recognizes my genius and dedication!” 

🧪 This guy was the definition of being starved for attention, since he totally didn’t catch on that you were manipulating him. His face was getting more and more flustered as he forgot what his initials intentions were. You had to admit, it was kinda cute. 

🧪 “You’re actually… quite likable compared to the nuisances you call teammates. At least now I know that one hero appreciate the complexity of my inventions.”

🧪 Seeing that your tactic was working wonders, you added how unfair it was for him to be treated like trash by Fatalité. The scientist stopped at your words, which made you dread that you had gone too far. 

🧪 He was about to respond when an explosion shook the room. You smile to yourself, knowing who was responsible for that detonation. Dr. Seraph tried frantically to find your friends on the surveillance camera. He called for reinforcements in a panic, before taking a weapon and leaving the room.

🧪 You just had to wait 5 minutes for one of your friends to find you and get the restraint off. You decided to leave a message on a notepad saying “Been fun, see you next time Doc.” with a little winky face. 

🧪 If only you knew the effect that it had on him when he found it later, tired and bruised up. 

🧪 That night, Dr. Seraph, or should I say Vincent, found himself thinking of you while he was laying on his bed. He couldn’t stop his mind spiraling as he held the little note close to his lips. It’s like the interaction you had today had completely changed his opinions of you. 

🧪 This scientist had been without attention for so long, that the tiniest bit of compliments and “special treatment” from you was enough to make his heart skip a beat.  

🧪 It went all downhill from there. It’s like he was finally noticing little things about you that he never did before.

🧪 How he loves it when you defend him from the wrath of his boss and try to convince him to go to the good side. You’re so considerate! 

🧪 Please treat him like he did nothing wrong and he is just being forced by Fatalité (which he isn’t totally). He just wants to hear your gentle words of praise again. 

🧪 He may be more remorseful of his criminal activities then others villains, but he is totally not above manipulation.

🧪 He tries to appear more injured at times so you would take him in your arms, like you do with civilians, to take him away from collapsing infrastructure. 

🧪 “P-please help me…Fatalité will punish me when he sees that I failed him again…” He gives you the biggest puppy eyes, hoping it would be enough to spark your heroic instincts. 

🧪 All to say that he is not really subtle with his new found love for you. The goons easily noticed his change of behavior around you. 

🧪 So they start teasing him about it, making him stutter, trying to deny it. They don’t truly believe he does like you, they just like messing with him. 

🧪 He tries to convince his boss to attack parts of the city where you do your patrol more often, in the hope of seeing you intervene. 

🧪 To say that he is disappointed every time another superhero tries to stop him instead of you would be an understatement. Like why are they ruining his little date ?! Don’t they have cats to save from trees or something?

🧪 He doesn't think of himself as a masochist, but he doesn’t totally dislike when you give him a few slaps or punches.

🧪 He especially likes it when you apologize when you feel like you didn’t hold back enough of your super strength. 

🧪 Can’t you just take him in your arms and kiss it better already?

🧪 Soon he starts thinking of you outside of your hero persona. Meeting you for fights is not enough for him anymore. 

🧪 What are you like when you take off your suit? What do you do when you have free time? 

🧪 He wanted more. He needed more of you.

After months of rewriting and perfecting this story in my draft I’m finally posting it. Anxiety be damned! (I am totally not stressing right now about it) But in all seriousness this is the first real post I make on this account, I hope you guys will like it!

Here is a little doodle of my boy Vincent (it’s a little bit old since I wrote this story in like December)

[estrella-etoile]

Hua Cheng's Very Different Loves

There is often a fundamental misunderstanding of Hua Cheng's love for Xie Lian. The biggest of them was Mu Qing and Feng Xin's assumption at seeing the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods.

They see Hua Cheng as obsessive, dangerous. And given the history with Bai Wuxian, yeah, not entirely in the wrong for that assumption.

It's hard to understand that Hua Cheng is one who has truly separated his devotion from his romantic love for Xie Lian. Because devotion/worship of a god and love of a person are different.

At least until now, the devout and obsessive level of worship that Hua Cheng exhibits is the first type. The type of a religious devotee. And that cave, that's what we see. Hua Cheng did not make the sculptures and the paintings for Xie Lian exactly, he didn't do it with a plan to bring Xie Lian there and ask for praise, he did it because Xie Lian was his totem, the very thing that could center him even at times of extreme suffering to pull through. Religious love is not something that expects reciprocation, it's not something that requires anything of the subject of worship except their existence. And the Hua Cheng of the past 800 years poured his obsessive love into this type of love, the love that he does not have any expectations for.

We know that Hua Cheng also felt the other type of love. His sexual awakening was downright traumatic. Seriously, imagine being fourteen, and having to defend your beloved god from sex demons who are forcing you to realize that your devotion to your god has an edge of desire, all while said god is stabbing himself to keep from acting on the extreme discomfort of sexual urges forced on him by those same damn sex demons. No wonder Hua Cheng is so absolutely freaked out and a little disgusted about harboring that type of love for Xie Lian.

When Hua Cheng finally finds Xie Lian again after 800 years, I fundamentally believe that Hua Cheng would have been content with an existence of watching over and protecting his god from the sidelines. His devotion mattering more than that sliver of self-loathing desire that would never be erased.

The story we got to read though, the one that makes TGCF so special is the way that the other love grows between Xie Lian and Hua Cheng. They enjoy each other's company, enjoy teasing and talking, enjoy the little touches that they share. When Hua Cheng talks about his beloved, he speaks of his romantic love and winning over that person. He speaks of it shyly, because he knows it is something that has to be shared and has to grow naturally. It's what makes their love story so very human, because Hua Cheng treated his religious love and his desirous love as completely separate from each other. And the best part? Xie Lian knows this, understands this, has no doubt about this.

It means that the scene in the cave, where both Feng Xin and Mu Qing mistook Hua Cheng's obsessive devotion for obsessive desire, Xie Lian recognizes correctly.

And Xie Lian reciprocates those romantic feelings.

I like to picture those days that Xie Lian wakes up and finds the other side of his bed empty, then wanders to the Thousand Lights Temple to see Hua Cheng there changing the single white flower in his god's hands, then bowing his head and saying a prayer. Xie Lian rolls his eyes, because well, he's right there, but it's Hua Cheng's ritual, and whether they are husbands, whether they had rough and enjoyable sex the night before, Hua Cheng won't slack on his religious love just because he gets to share romantic love with his husband and god.

[eli0004]

Levi Ackerman NSFW Alphabet

Pairing: sub!Levi x Reader

Warnings: msub, dominance, degradation, praise, some heavy kink activity and whatnot, mentions of insecurity

(AN: I’m sorry this took me forever, but I was thrilled about this request because I LOVVVVE smut alphabets. Please feel free to request more, or ask for further elaboration on anything in this one! 💜)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

When Levi is coming down from the high of his orgasm, he can’t hide the fact that he’s feeling good. He’ll lie there with you, head on your chest as his shoulders rise and fall while he catches his breath. You can stroke his hair and run your thumb over his cheek, and he’ll turn to gaze up at you with soft, sleepy eyes. It’s really a treat to see this side of him, so relaxed and pliant. And if you’re lucky, you could watch his eyes flutter closed, and hear his soft snores as he drifts off to sleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He isn’t confident about much, but i can see Levi being confident in his jawline. I envision him turning his head to the side and taking his straight razor down his neck, scraping off the shaving cream and admiring, even if it’s only for a moment, the sharpness and angularity of it.

On you? Is it a cop out to say everything? How could you even ask him to pick something when he loves all of you so much? But, in all seriousness, I think Levi would find “unique” features very attractive. If you have a larger nose, vitiligo, lots of freckles, stretch marks, surgery scars…etc etc. If you’re insecure about it, Levi loves it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I think he’d prefer to cum either inside or catch it somewhere for easy clean up, but his orgasms, more often than not, tend to be quick and intense. He’s cumming before he can really even think about where to do it. If you’re giving him head, he’ll feel himself getting closer and closer and he’ll writhe and paw at your hair, but the scorching pleasure tends to make his brain short circuit, and he can’t find the words to warn you. Recognizing body language is very important when in bed with Levi.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I feel like, from time to time, Levi imagines what it would be like to fully dedicate himself to submitting to you. Allowing you to make the smallest decisions for him, how to spend his money, when to eat or drink, when - and where - to use the restroom. I believe he fantasizes a bit about life as a lifestyle sub, living entirely for you and what makes you feel happy. It’s what makes him happy.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

My personal favorite is inexperienced/virgin Levi, but if we’re being realistic i’d say he’s at least got a hand job or two under his belt. I think given his past, and how he grew up, he doesn’t place as much emphasis on sex and sexual experience as your average man. If you ask him, it’s just a normal thing that people do, it’s human nature to chase after pleasure.

Then again I also think, perhaps given the more traumatic aspect to his past, there’s a high possibility that he has some underlying negative feelings about it, whether he realizes it or not. When in a relationship, i think it likely takes many months before he feels comfortable enough to indulge in the act. But once he does, he can be a bit insatiable at times.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Riding!! Levi likes to be beneath you, but this certainly doesn’t mean you’ll be doing all the work. He’ll do his best to make you feel just as good as you make him feel, roaming his hands over your thighs, chest, thumbing over your clit/tip. He likes when you cup his jaw and tilt his head to force eye contact. You can watch him struggle to keep his eyes open while he’s dizzy from the pleasure.

If he’s feeling extra mushy gushy, he might like missionary, pressing his body tightly against yours and all but laying on top of you. He’ll bury his face into your neck and grunt and groan softly against your skin as he thrusts slow and deep. Run your fingers through his hair and gently tug, scratch down his back, he fucking lives for that.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

To Levi, sex and intimacy is an act of worship. To praise your body and your heart and to show his gratitude and gratefulness for the way you love him. He’s far too enamored, too consumed by emotion to even think about being unserious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps neatly trimmed, but he’ll only shave if he fucks up the trim somehow. That said, it’s Levi we’re talking about, meticulous is his middle name. When would he ever fuck up anything? So, neatly trimmed it is, dark, course and it thins out into a sexy little line that comes up just below his belly button. Happy trail supremacy 😩

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As previously stated, sex with Levi doesn’t exist without intimacy. This man is nothing if not passionate, and he puts everything he has into it, just to show you what you mean to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Levi rarely gets off on his own, i think it makes him uncomfortable to be so hormone driven. When he goes a while without seeing you, he’ll ignore those random erections and push away the horny thoughts until it becomes unbearable, and only then will he take care of himself.

However, i think Levi is a big fan of mutual masturbation. He likes having your eyes on him while he strokes himself, the way you gaze at him like you’ve never seen a sight so mouth-watering, so mesmerizing. It boosts his confidence ten-fold. When he’s getting closer, his hand will speed up and his jaw will go slack, you can watch him hunch over himself as he cums, balls tightening and contracting as he spurts over his knuckles.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Levi likes to challenge you when he’s feeling a bit more freaky. When there’s a lot of sexual tension between the both of you, he likes to be put in his place. In those moments, he can be a bit of a brat.

He likes to be teased, though he often pretends not to. If you want to build up that tension, you can send him sexy looks, touch him when no one is looking, get him all flustered just to walk away and make him wait. He’ll call you a tease, tell you you’re being mean, but it’s clear that he loves it by the way he seeks you out for more.

Manhandling? He’s a sucker for someone who can push him around, force eye contact with a firm grip on his jaw, back him up against the nearest surface for some steamy kisses.

Praise and degradation. When he’s being good, dote on that man. Tell him he’s your good boy, dish out all the rewards. When he’s being a pain in your ass, a little condescending degradation gets him all hot and bothered. Caress his cheek with a sweet smile and tell him he’d better cut the attitude before you leave him to fuck his fist like the horny little bitch he is.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

It’s a common headcannon that he’d most prefer shower sex, and while i do think he’d enjoy it for obvious reasons, i think he’d also be fond of the intimate aspect of doing it in low lighting, trapped between the bedsheets, when he’s feeling a bit more soft.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you care for him. His main love language is acts of service, that’s a no-brainer at this point, but it works both ways. You cooked a meal for him? He’s gonna have you for dessert.

Levi has very little experience with feeling loved, so the quickest way to turn him on is to baby him, regardless of how he might pretend he doesn’t need it. Three words: do it anyway. And seeing you do it as if loving him is like second nature is a sure way to have him all over you.

And if you initiate, it’s even better. Show him how much you want him, when you’re kissing and grinding up on each other, slip his hand between your legs to feel the effect he has on you. Knowing he turns you on, that you want him just as badly as he wants you, that sort of thing gets him hard embarrassingly quick.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

It’s hard to say, because most of the time Levi would do just about anything you ask him, especially if he trusts you. But i don’t think he’d be too much of a fan of blood/knife play or emeto/scat. Essentially, no infliction of real lasting pain, and nothing that is, in his eyes, “unhygienic”. He sees enough of that in his day to day life and derives no sexual pleasure from it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He may not be a pro, but Levi learns by watching how you react. If you twitch or throb or quiver when he licks you there, he’ll double down and drive you wild. Going down on you isn’t his favorite way to get you off, but he would spend an eternity between your legs if you asked him to.

In terms of himself, Levi doesn’t always understand why you’d want to put him in your mouth, but he’ll never complain. He keeps himself nice and groomed, clean and he’ll never force your head unless you asked him to. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and his breathing gets a bit shaky when you’re kissing down his tummy. But all that nervousness dissipates the second he feels your tongue swirl around his tip, too drunk on pleasure to be so cautious.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on how he’s feeling, if he’s in a more relaxed and romantic mood he may prefer gentle touching and body worship, whether you’re doing the fucking or he is. He likes those slow, deep strokes, so he can feel every inch, in and out.

If he’s feeling moody or stressed, or even simply pent up, Levi is ready to get his back blown out. He likes it face down, ass up. Or if you’re on top, have a firm grip on his throat and force eye contact as you slam down on/into him. The quickest way to hear those pretty little sounds.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Levi doesn’t mind them, but always expect more later. Quickies are more of a warm up, or a form of foreplay in his eyes. Especially if you use him to get yourself off and leave him hanging. It sounds mean, but sometimes he likes you a little mean. It’s always worth it when you milk him dry later anyway.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

In the beginning, new ideas are met with some level of skepticism. Over time, the more trust is established, the mo comfortable he becomes, the more he’s willing to try new things. He knows you’d never steer him wrong or force him into an uncomfortable situation, but it’s crucial that he feels safe enough to speak up when he’s not feeling it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s not as energetic as he used to be, but he can go a couple times with breaks in between. Overstimulation puts him in subspace pretty easily too, so don’t be afraid to test his limits.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Vibrators vibrators vibrators!!! He loves them! He won’t say it, but when you pull out your little bullet, Levi feels such a wave of excitement. He always cums twice as hard when you suck him off with it pressed up against his taint, or trace it over his balls. If you want to tease him extra good, you can ghost it over his tip and watch his thighs start to tremble.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Levi doesn’t tease as much as he tests your boundaries. When he wants to be put in his place, you’ll know by the way he isn’t as quick to follow directions, or his sarcastic remarks when you’re breaking him down. There’s something he loves about watching your eyes go from gentle and sweet to domineering and animalistic. That’s how he knows he’s gotten just what he wants.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Rarely is he truly loud, but he’s definitely not quiet either. Levi is expressive in his own way, through heavy labored breathing and soft hums of pleasure, “ngh” and “mnm” sounds. He gets louder as you dish out more and more, and when he’s close, his jaw slackens and he inhales sharply, before letting out a drawn out, breathy groan.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Levi is shy about titles, but the closer he gets to subspace, the less his inhibitions are present, and before you know it, he’s responding to your instructions with a “yes ma’am/sir” or “ok mommy/daddy”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He isn’t big, but he isn’t small. I’d say Levi is packing pretty average, with a good amount of girth. He has a slight upward curve, and such a pretty pale pink color. He leaks too, especially when he’s pent up. A bit of dry humping and heavy kissing is all it takes to have him leaving dark wet patches on the front of his pants.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a moderate sex drive, but even if he’s been desperate for you all day long, sometimes he finds it hard to initiate. This goes back to the whole “recognizing body language is important” thing, because more often than not, he’s going to show you he’s in the mood.

He’ll be more touchy, you’ll notice his eyes lingering on your body, he sits closer to you and makes his presence more obvious. Once he’s gotten more comfortable in the relationship, he might press himself against you during hugs, so you can feel him semi-hard in his pants, or his kisses might become longer and laced with desperation.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

It really is a battle in his mind: to stay awake and snuggle up, or to give into exhaustion. He can’t help but feel extra relaxed when you’re done coaxing orgasms out of him, and his eyes get soft and dreary. Pet his hair a bit and hold him tight and he’s out like a light.

[collaredsoldat]

Domestic Winter Soldier / Soldat Stuff

warnings: PTSD | Slight self-harm | Mentions past abuse

a/n: Idk I wanted to write this because he deserves some love even when he's the soldier. Various hcs about domestic life with the Winter Soldier. Actual fics in the works. I run four blogs so I try to balance it all. Not edited ignore mistakes.

Soldat is a little awkward with home life at first. He isn't sure what to do, being free from constant control isn't something he can easily adjust to.

He looks to you for commands all the time. Can he sit? Can he go to the bathroom? Can he sleep? Can he eat? Every little thing he does. You have to reassure him that he doesn't need to ask permission for anything, but he still does.

He sometimes gets snappy at you, since he still can't decide whether or not to trust you 100% or not. He can't understand why someone is being so nice to him.

Sometimes he accidentally breaks something and he flinches away from you, or he hides out of fear. You have to coax him out, telling him it's okay and that you're not going to hurt him. He always hesitates.

He struggles to sleep so he comes into your room most nights and stares at you or roughly shakes you to wake you up. "Can't sleep." he speaks lowly, and he grunts and climbs over you into your bed, never waiting for a response. At first he sleeps away from the door, but as time goes on he moves to sleep closest to the door in case any unlucky person breaks into your apartment.

Very much like a cat, he stays back but when he wants attention he sort of just...flops near you and demands it by laying on you somehow, or sitting super close so your bodies are touching.

He watches you cook a lot. He sits down at the counter and watches or he stands over you and watches. Sometimes you have to pull him away from the stove because the oil will burn him and he doesn't bother moving away on his own.

He's much more curious than you'd think. He watches you do a lot of things, almost as if he's never seen anything like it. Something as simple as brushing your hair or doing laundry, he's mesmerized by it.

When he's not watching you do something, you notice that he just stares a lot. He always watches you, at first out of uneasiness, but then...just because. He's always watching you, almost like he's worried you'll disappear.

You help him shower, he doesn't like touching his scars. He tries to rub them away, and he's tries to claw his metal arm off. So you help him clean to prevent him from going into one of those episodes of hurting himself in that way.

He used to get aggressive when you came around him when he was naked, treating you like some big threat, but you realized this was something more than just fear. It took a lot for him to get comfortable enough to allow you to touch him in the shower/bath.

For being so heavily trained as the best assassin, he's quite accident prone. Nothing major, but enough to warrant some kind of care. He feels a little confused whenever he gets hurt by accident, like he never expected the corner of the table to leave a small cut on his flesh arm. He focuses too much on things he knows hurt, that other things go unnoticed.

He learns to cook with you some days, he was tired of just watching. It's a good way to show him you trust him too, letting him handle things like knives or sharp objects without worrying he will hurt you.

You learn he really likes pie. Apple pie especially.

You also learn the alarm on the oven is too loud for him so you use your phone instead.

If you bring him out with you, he's very protective. His head is on a swivel, constantly observing everyone around you. He stays glued to your side, not letting you take many steps away from him.

Gets overstimulated easily.

Sounds that are similar to a blender or electricity freak him out. A bug zapper is also a sound he hates.

Some foods he looks at with newfound curiosity, like he hadn't seen them before. There are things he doesn't even recognize, newer or modernized things, he didn't know what to think. What the hell is an air fryer? How do you fry with air??

Get one and watch how he looks at it with amazement and confusion.

He seeks out spaces where he can be alone a lot, he needs space sometimes and you understand.

During bad episodes he sometimes disappears from your apartment, making you panic a little each time. You find him in alleys or the streets from time to time, he never wanders too far. You are worried sick but your priority is to get him back home.

It's hard for him to show it, but he does appreciate you and everything you've done for him. He gives you hugs from behind a lot, sometimes he whispers a word to you, but mostly he's silent.

He likes puzzles. He likes putting them together. Maybe because he himself feels like there are so many pieces of himself missing and it's satisfying to fill a picture.

One thing that calms him down are fresh cookies. Chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven, he can go from high strung to calm and docile.

He hates porridge and/or oatmeal. It's too similar to the things he was forced to eat in HYDRA. Tasteless slop, he can't stand the texture.

He loves when you brush his hair. His scalp is sensitive since he had his hair yanked and pulled so much, but you're always gentle. He loves feeling your fingers run through it and it puts him to sleep within minutes.

You're the only one who can touch his scars. Not that he is close to anyone else, but he doesn't fight you when your hand roams over where metal meets flesh.

Watches over you when you sleep a lot, his eyes glued to the door and his ears alert to every single sound. He stays up until he literally can't keep his eyes open.

He's very attached to you and never wants to leave you, ever.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[dinozarr]

“YOU SOUND SO GORGEOUS, DARLING.”⠀⠀⠀⟡⠀NANAMI

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Shhh~ sweetheart, you’ll wake the neighbors,” kento’s strained voice purred into your mouth, your equally hot breaths fanning against one another’s face after every rut he thrusted into you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀one of your arms was stretched back completely, knuckles painted white as your fingers curled into the fabric of the couch you were seated on. the other was wrapped around kento’s head, fingertips entwining within his distressed curls. one of kento’s large arms was slithered around your waist, his grip all too firm as the other hand simply rested against your ass cheek that had nothing more than a tomato-red hand print practically engraved onto it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the tip of his pulsating erection hit your cervix so beautifully, cries of ecstasy hiccuping from your mouth each time he pounded his hips into your own. nothing could’ve prepared you for the absolute beat down your dripping cunt would receive when you accepted kento’s offer of having a few drinks at his place. it all happened so fast. within a few sips and you two were at it like rabid animals.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“you sound so gorgeous, darling~” he continued to compliment you, giving into your gut-wrenching praise kink that had your stomach churning every time he spoke dearly to you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the way he alluded you was completely unlike how he was abusing every last inch of your sopping pussy. the girth of his over-average dick stretched you out wonderfully, your eyes rolling back all the while you rested your forehead against his own. with each hip snap nanami gave you, his grasp around your waist tightened—almost as if he were to let go he’d lose you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the veins that protruded his leaking erection raked your clenching walls with ease, whimpers of mercy exerting your sweet swollen lips. kento couldn’t help himself. the way you acted so pristine and elegant in front of everyone, yet was the complete opposite when behind closed doors had driven the man mad. he wanted nothing more than to rip your prissy little blazer suits to shreds in front of everyone and show them how much you enjoyed taking every last inch of his dick.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he wanted his shape to be engraved into you. for every time he slid through your folds, your body would instantly recognize him and suck him in completely. well, more than it already does. he craved for littering your silky skin in bite marks so that every person you ever crossed paths with would know who was fucking your pathetic cunt, and how good he was treating it too.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀no matter how many times he denied it, he found himself smiling at just the scent of your infamous perfume. how it suffocated his entire existence and even left trails on all pieces of clothing he’s ever worn to work. whenever he saw you, it was like restraining a tiger fighting himself so he wouldn’t attack you with his lips and strip you to nothing but your bare, beautiful body.

NOTEZ : erm !!! all of these professor nanami drabbles will be in the same universe with the same reader, so do with that info what u please.

© TAKST4Z 2023 — all rights reserved. mature discretion. please do not plagiarize or steal any of my works or grapnics.

[aanglican]

uncle iroh is treated very much like a paragon of virtue in the series. yes we know he has had a violent past, that he has done terrible things, committed atrocities in the service of the fire nation— but we don’t really feel it because all of that had happened off screen and prior to the series. instead, he comes to us as a more perfect being and one deified with secret good deeds revealed throughout the story: uncle iroh is the keeper of the dragons and an important member of the white lotus, he is just that awesome.

uncle iroh is so divorced from his immediate past that we don’t see him haunted by any of it unless it’s by lu ten— which begs the question: did he really turn his back on the fire nation due to a moral awakening or was it only/mostly for his own good? he certainly doesn’t behave in a manner you’d expect from a repentant ex-imperialist: he’s not too worried about walking the streets of ba singe se, let alone actually staying there after the war ended. (the same war he participated in on the side of the aggressors, mind you.) he is shameless enough to be living there while hiding away and was unscrupulous in accepting hospitality from earth kingdom folks who were made refugees by the fire nation, i.e., song’s family. does he not feel guilty or at least uncomfortable with his circumstances, especially since it has only been 5 or so years since the siege at ba sing se and thus still very fresh in the grand scheme of things? is iroh just that Enlightened and At Peace with his past that it doesn’t color his every movement? or is his lack of a moral hangover just a writing oversight? were they scared to make their most lovable character in a rated TV-Y7 cartoon a tad more polarizing?

while uncle iroh does his job well for the story— that is, to act as zuko’s guiding light— i do wish he were knocked off his pedestal a bit more. uncle iroh is, after all, the proto-zuko to ozai’s proto-azula. i wish to see him at least slightly paranoid about people recognizing him from his military days and vice versa. i wish to see him uneasy about being in the earth kingdom (out of guilt? as opposed to zuko’s superiority complex and anger). i wish to see him meet another person who also has visible burn scars, one that has nothing to do with zuko/his family, and still look away in shame or disgust by the implications. et cetera et cetera. anything to indicate he feels something more about himself and other people that isn’t just Wise Old Man.

[lost-romantique]

It really isn't hard to see why people ship Stolitz...

One thing I notice a lot of Anti-Stolitz shippers do is demonize one person over the other on what happened in Full Moon. Either Blitz is the most abusive asshole that was about to physically beat the shit out of Stolas, or Stolas is some rapist that got upset his victim didn't accept his grand love confession. Both of which are extremely bad takes.

If you blindly pick a side on who was right and who was wrong, than yeah it's no wonder you can't get aboard this ship and that's your own prerogative.

When people ask me why I ship Stolitz, I'll tell you why:

Because underneath all their resentment and anger they hold for one another, they both genuinely care so deeply about the other. Their interaction in the latter half of Apology Tour says as much:

Stolas, despite, having the right to completely blow off Blitz when he approached him. Chooses to instead hide Blitz's face as a way to protect him from being seen, just so they can have a chance to talk.

Despite how horribly Blitz treated him earlier in the day, Stolas still finds comfort just being held by him. Stolas still trusts Blitz, his little knight in shining armor to protect him.

Blitz is so gentle with Stolas throughout this interaction, when Stolas gets upset and falls dramatically off his lap, Blitz freaks out. The first thing Blitz does is curse at himself for fucking up, only to immediately get Stolas up on his feet and guide him to the couch.

Blitz does the right thing and allows Stolas to dance with BTB when he looks to him for permission because: Blitz understands that he wasn't in the right mindset to reciprocate the sort of affection Stolas was seeking at that moment, and because Blitz knew that Stolas deserved to have a night of fun.

BONUS:

This scene is so poignant and so powerful in my mind, that I honestly consider it one of the most beautifully heartbreaking moments of the show.

Blitz is forced to realize that by pushing people away, by building up all these walls that surround him, he essentially created this much carnage he never meant to.

To top it all off, this episode ends with Blitz letting Stolas go, even though he desperately doesn't want to.

(Someone give Blitz a hug please, my poor precious bean.)

I love the fact that these two men are genuinely what the other needs in their life.

A big reason as to why Stolas is in love with Blitz is because Blitz was the first person that introduced him to the concept of freedom. While Stolas just seemingly accepted his fate of dedicating his entire life to being a proper Prince of the Goetia.

Blitz wasn't like that, from the very beginning, Blitz was someone that dreamed of something bigger for himself, something better, something that usually an imp like himself could never hope to achieve. Blitz is a dreamer, and Stolas admired that.

As adults, Blitz taught Stolas that he had a right to pursue his own sense of freedom, that he didn't need to live a life trapped in the woes of being a Goetia in an abusive marriage.

Blitz, unknowingly, taught Stolas that he didn't need to be an owl trapped in a cage! Blitz taught Stolas that he had a right to pursue his own dreams, his own happiness.

If it wasn't for Blitz, Stolas would still be living that miserable life of conformity.

Even now, there's so much Stolas could learn from Blitz, and Stolas recognizes that: "Maybe there's somethin' here for us to glean. For you to teach, and me to try to learn."

What Stolas can do for Blitz, is be that pillar of support Blitz desperately needs in his life. Someone that will always be by his side when his self-hatred starts to take control.

Blitz needs someone in his life that can be there to remind him that he too has a right to be happy, that he too has a right to be loved.

And there is no person better for that job than Stolas, who *still* holds so much love for this little red lizard.

Stolas can be there to teach Blitz to be better for others, and be kinder to himself.

Also, low-key...

These two are so fucking hot together, like goddamn.

[littlelightfish]

I've been thinking about Mickbell since last chapter came out.

Have you noticed how everyone refers to him as Mick? He's a hafling, they shouldn't call him that since its his first name.

But here's the thing.

We know Mickbell didn't have something to call a family the majority of his life. He was all alone against the word for quite some time. He, as I said before, didn't have a proper family, didn't have any friends. He was alone. No one to care about him, no one to love even in a friendly way.

He can seem to be quite unfair towards Kuro, but truth is he doesn't know any better. He does what he can the best he can, the best he knows, because he loves Kuro so much, he doesn't want to loose his first friend, his first glimpse of a family, the only one that cared for him after so long the first one to recognize him as someone rather than something.

Kuro doesn't understand common language well, we know for a fact that he struggles with it and that he's still learning to communicate. When Mickbell found him, it was his sense of "I'm in great debt to him because he saved me" what made him attack the one that attacked Mick. "How dares he tuch my savior?" Kind of behaviour. And also revenge I guess. But, hear me out. He hears Mickbell telling something to him in a language he doesn't understand, but he sticks to his side from then on, because he saw a savior in him. Because he feels in debt with him, because he sees that this guy enjoys his company and also feeds him. He is like a stray dog after being adopted, loyal. He loves and cares for Mickbell, he wants to be able to truly understand him and to make himself known to him by talking. He's learning how to speak common, not because it might be useful, but because he wants to be able to fully communicate with his dearest friend, with the one he considers family.

Going back to Mickbell, he saw someone caring for him enough to take revenge and protect him. This aren't little things to do for someone you just met. He knows this, because he probably wouldn't have done that, he 100% would've runned away because he has sense of self-preservation and knows damn well he doesn't stand a chance and he wants to continue living. He makes sure to keep this kobold to himself, at first because of his "if it can be made use of, then use it" principle.

He freed the kobold, not because he was a good person, but because he wanted to take revenge in his own terms. He wanted this man to suffer, he can't pick a fight because he doesn't stand a chance, so he steels his merch, or in this case, frees it. He freed Kuro because he wanted the man to suffer the loss of his merch. Not because he feels sorry for a kobold that could easily chomp his head off (they're usually agressive). Now, after freeing him, he noticed that this kobold would die if he didn't take off the thing he had in his mouth, so he helped him a bit there. This seems a bit out of character. Why did he freed the starved kobold from what could've saved him of being eaten himself? Because he is a good person. He doesn't want this creature to starve to death after freeing him, it would be cruel, and he isn't cruel. He doesn't want nothing to do with the kobold at first, he just doesnt want him to die because he didnt properly freed him, but after seeing how far is this someone willing to go for him? He has no room for doubt, he makes himself his boss.

As I said, Mickbell didn't had a real family before. He lacks of proper social interactions and bonds due to his past. But he loves so deeply. He doesn't want to loose Kuro. He sees him as the closest thing he'll ever have to a family, but he doesn't know how to treat him properly. He tries his best. He feeds him, and cares about him a lot, but he doesn't know how to talk to him. He wants to have him close at all times, he wants to pet him, to be carried around by him and only him, to tease him, to help him. He's always worrying about his well-being. And above all, he doesn't want to be alone. Never again. This is why he does everything he can think of to hold Kuro closer to him. This is why he's saving money, why he pays Kuro so poorly for his job. This is why he doesn't spent much money on himself either. He wants to live a life with kuro by his side because he loves him. He loves him deeply, and cares about him deeply too. He's his family. And he is terrified of the sole thought of Kuro leaving his side. Because that wouldn't just mean being alone again. It would mean Kuro left.

Now, this is what the party sees. A hafling that treats his kobold employee quite unfairly. He doesn't pay him almost anything, he leaves him alone as soon as battle starts, he is possessive about him, and he's terrified of someone snatching him away. The kobold doesn't seem to either mind or notice how unfair his owner is being towards him, and doesn't seem to understand him very well either. They see that they both care for each other more than they first thought as time passes by, but the unfairness of it all is still there. They don't get it. Why would the hafling, if he cares so much, reward him so badly? Why is he taking advantage of the kobold he loves so much? Why wouldn't he let him express himself in his mother language? They don't fully get it.

Time passes and they become closer to each other, just as Laios's party does. They start opening up, bonding, and before they knew it, they're something like a small family, rather than just a group of friends adventuring together. It's clear as day something in Mickbell wasn't quite right just by the way he behaves. He is childish, but it doesn't seem to be intentional. He behaves like a kid, but he is quite mature at the same time. He is like this because he didn't had a proper childhood? He only now can allow himself to behave lightly as he does? To cry at minor inconveniences? To want to be hold on someone's arms? They don't know, but they don't prey about it either.

And without realizing it, they call him just "Mick". Some of them, if not them all, know what it means to call a hafling by his first name. They maybe did it to tease him, maybe because they wanted him to know they consider him family, but he didn't even noticed. He hadn't a proper social interaction with haflings that ever got to the personal level of teaching him something he should already know. Haflings call him Mickbell, he doesn't mind, it's his name. His party calls him Mick, he doesn't mind, it's his name. He doesn't even know hee should care. The party picks up he doesn't mind being called that and gets surprised. Is he letting them know he sees them aa family too? They at first are really surprised, but it losses importance over time. They just use it as a nickname now, but they started using it because they wanted Mickbell to know they're family too, that they don't want to hurt him nor Kuro.

Mickbell it's just a good hearted guy who doesn't know how to do good. He saves up money so he can, one day, live with Kuro. So he doesn't pays him well even if he works hard. So he starves himself (he is underweight too, but it could be for the same reason Chilchuck is, he is 5 cms taller than the common hafling after all). So he allows himself to steal from corpses. He needs money. He has a dream. He wants to have a family.

[circuitcircus]

in defense of kabumisu……..

addressing things I see people say about why kabru being shipped w mithrun is ‘bad’ or why their canon relationship ‘doesn’t mean anything’ while also clearing up misconceptions of the characters some fans have

listen it keeps popping up and I just gotta do this or my brain will melt (if you don’t see it around then god I wish that were me) there’s an age gap!- erm there’s also an age gap in farcille (ily), the most popular ship in the series...also chilchuck looks like a kid but a lot of fans recognize him as a dilf because of his relative age, so there should be no age gap discourse among adult characters because it feels so conditional tbh

kabru taking care of mithrun is racist!- marcille likes to take care of others as well. is that sexist, or just an aspect of her character?

kabru isn’t treated like a servant, waiting on mithrun hand and foot…I mean he gives mithrun a foot massage but no one told him to do all that lmfao

he's also not the only one to care for mithrun. pattadol is shown to worry for him and milsril was the one to start taking care mithrun in the first place after he…...y’know. speaking of which-

they probably met when kabru was a kid!- neither of them showed signs of recognizing each other the entire time mithrun was introduced nor when they were together. and im pretty sure KABRU of all people would show some kind of recognition if they'd met before. it's kabru!!! the people person!!! mr. "i-noted-down-50+-characters-in-this-dude's-backstory-for-fun-and-actually-enjoy-social-gatherings"

you would think some kind of memory would come back to him especially after hearing mithrun’s backstory if milsril had even told kabru about him as a kid. but nope. it’s just fan speculation unless there's a side comic suggesting otherwise that i haven't seen

mithrun doesn't care about kabru, his shapeshift double looked like shit!- it's obviously because of mithrun's (then) lack of desires that it looked like that, but they really grow on each other

i think it's safe to assume it'd look more like kabru after they spent so much time together (also laios can barely even remember kabru's name..also saw his face multiple times and didn’t recognize him when they talked for the first time)

mithrun is racist!- he’s actually the least likely character to be racist since he lost his desires and that includes a desire for superiority over others. he even calls his past self out on that part of himself. the other elves in that side comic were being just as racist to shorter lived races but just didn’t use ‘outdated slurs’

(unfortunately literally every main character in dunmeshi is at least a lil prejudiced, but I believe it’s worldbuilding and a sign of the times rather than a reason ryoko kui is giving to hate each character)

taking care of others is a pain in the ass!- saying this as a reason kabru and mithrun shouldn't be together is basically saying disabled people shouldn't be allowed to have romantic relationships because they're a "burden"...if someone is actually willing to put in the work, then let them be.

that's not even all of their relationship, mithrun is the fighter of their duo and kabru would've been killed by the shapeshifter or something if he'd fallen down the hole on his own since he sucks at fighting monsters. mithrun helps collect ingredients for cooking every time, too (barometz fruits and griffin egg). he pulls his weight and then some!! i feel like people forget that part of mithrun a lot somehow.

+senshi literally cooks for everyone all time. it's kind of an important aspect of the narrative.

+also, while it is a popular fan thing I see around that kabru handfeeds mithrun, he literally never does lol this is mithrun using his own hands to eat:

also here we have him washing his own body

just saying because people like to treat mithrun like a baby even though the narrative respects him as a capable adult who also has special needs because of an accident. he’s captain for a reason

kabru hates taking care of mithrun!- not exactly, he was initially surprised and put off but got used to it quickly. i’m sure he’s grateful for all the times mithrun saved him from a monster and teleported them out of danger as well

he even starts doing “unnecessary” things for mithrun’s comfort and safety like when mithrun pushes himself too hard fighting, even after his mission to take care of him was complete when the canaries came back

here is even kabru resting while mithrun keeps watch (mithrun let him sleep for 5 hours before waking him up from the nightmare earlier, too):

there's nothing more to their relationship!- they actually have had a very tight and consistent dynamic since they met and they incite the most change within each other by the end. kabru is the one who inspires mithrun to create new desires so he doesn't waste away, and mithrun is the first person we see kabru being genuine with and it leads him to be more honest with others by the end instead of tiptoeing around everyone all the time (that mask was also the reason some ppl initially disliked kabru…)

kabru’s relationship with mithrun is honestly so important for his character and vice versa, but it’s often disregarded because of one over exaggerated aspect of it (an aspect that isn’t even the first way they interact with each other) or because people want to just straight up ignore it for some reason 🥲🥲

kui dedicates many panels to them that don't particularly serve the narrative as a whole in order to demonstrate this and i think that's pretty significant

you're taking this too seriously!- as if i'm the first person in the world to be crazy about a ship or the characters 😭 i love analyzing text and it's upsetting to see them mischaracterized when kui lays out the characters so clearly and deliberately

also they end up touching each other like all the time and have the kind of canon validation most ppl can only dream of lol i feel so insane look at this:

and this is just when they're first getting to know each other cuz there's a fuckload more

kinda hard to explain how i don't actually need them to get married or whatever but i'd die on this hill for them and i enjoy their dynamic immensely

haha you thought you were reading ship discourse but it was actually a character analysis 🤪🤪🤪

also don’t somehow take this to mean I think anyone has to ship them, I just need everyone to understand these accusations kind of don’t make sense especially when they can also apply to other pairs or characters

bonus kabru just looking at mithrun:

[canihaveacalmtime]

A mafia boss like him never rely on anyone, even his right hand man. He's the solo wolf in a big pack, the person whose ego is just too much to handle.

Eter always tell himself that he never fails so why is he on the verge of death after an assinate attempt and is being treated by a small child like you?

You are an orphan who happened to get lost during a day out with your teacher, you call her mama, and other kids. Well, you just also happened to stumble upon Eter's injured body in the alley way and decided to help him with the medic kit you have in your bag.

When Eter regain his consciousness fully, he asked if you have a phone that can call. You hand him the phone that mama gave you as he calls his men to come get him. The moment you got your phone back was when you heard your mama calling your name.

"So your name is (Y/N)."

You reply before running out of the alley way.

"Yes, please get better and stay safe, mister."

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

After everything has calmed down, Eter begins thinking about the new emotions after his encounter with you.

He felt like he was cared with love when you treat his injuries, usually, he would treat his wounds himself because he doesn't want to look weak but after being treated for the first time, his thoughts kind of changed.

Not to mention how fragile but warm your little hands were, you're also very thoughtful too despite your age.

It's not like Eter didn't had a thought of having a child, he's scared that he can not take up the responsibility of taking care of a child and the life he lives in, he doesn't even sure if his child would survive to say the least.

He also never received love from anyone before, even his birth parents. So raising a child? That's the impossible mission for a mafia boss.

But his courage soon raise up when he meet you again in the coffee shop he always go to, but you were with your mama this time. The shop was rather vacant at the early morning so as you turn around a saw him, you recognized him immediately and give him a small wave.

Seeing your mama is busy on her phone, you went over to Eter's table to say hi and ask him if he's okay now, he nods. Notice the worker is bringing the food out, you only have time to wave a quick goodbye before helping your mama carry the food bags and leave.

Eter then determined to know everything about you, starting from asking his right hand man to gather information about you. He just can't help but really feel attached to you despite only met a few times.

Knowing that you're an orphan kind of relief him because now he knows that he can adopt you.

From then on, if you notice your surroundings a little more, you'd notice a kind of feeling that you're being watch. But don't be scared, it's just Eter's men ordered to keep you safe whenever to go outside, and they will report back things that you do along with some pictures to Eter.

The main reason why he can't adopt you yet is because his power isn't wide enough to protect you but when it does, he will immediately come to the orphanage and literally snatch you back to his place.

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

As a first time parent, his actions might be a bit unprofessional at times but he always make sure that you always have your favorite meals and sleep tight every night.

He would also sometimes watch you sleep or just bluntly sleep with you, you don't complain because who would reject a giant body pillow.

Whenever you came back from school with small bruises or in a sobbing state, just know that the ones that hurt you won't be seen the next day at school.

Some nights, while sleeping beside you, watching your small form sleeping, he thought that what if you grow too fast and when you're an adult, you'd leave him or what if you don't want to rely on him anymore. And guess what, he really did thought about some methods to keeo you like this forever but soon shrug it off as his first ever goal when adopting you was to see you grow after all.

Eter also wants your full attention on him whenever he's with you and if anyone dares to stole your attention away, he will give them a deadly glare that they wouldn't want to see it again.

Even though he's a first time dad, he is trying his best. Even a little possessive and protective of you, it's because he loves you so much. To him, you're his light in this dull life, the brush that paint colors into his picture and the reason why he's still going.

Although, don't try to leave him, you wouldn't want to know what's the worst can happen and let me tell you, it's not going to be bright at the least.

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

A/N: I wrote this in the middle of the night so please don't mind about the mistakes 😭