#i know this was a long road to walk to fulfill the prompt but I hope u enjoy

[hyuckbeam]

at midnight with you

your boyfriend just recently got his driver's license, and boy, was he adamant to take you for a ride (with you being just as eager as him).

pairing | jisung x reader

genre | fluff, a little flirty here and there, established relationship

warnings | one kind of sexual joke (but they don't do anything, silly), the endearment ‘baby’ is used by jisung, lmk if i missed anything!

wc | 1.1k words

a/n | i impulsively made this after i learned jisung got his driver’s license already,, i just HAD to make use of this knowledge one way or another 🥹 i guess this passes as a belated birthday post for ji as well!! but aside from all that, rbs, likes, and feedback are always appreciated! thank u <33

a gasp was the only thing that would come out of your throat as you opened your front door in the middle of the night to jisung, having pulled up in front of your house’s gate with a car you’ve never seen before. had he learned how to drive already? he did tell you something along the lines of ‘i think i might try driving’ the other week, but you often passed it as a joke. i mean, he always told you he’d never drive for the sake of world peace and human kind.

you, on the other hand, were as eager as you could be to learn how to drive. fantasies of you and jisung out on a midnight car ride often plagued your mind, and the thought of making that fantasy into a reality gave you even more determination to learn. the problem was your parents didn’t exactly like the idea of it. you suppose they were always more on the traditional spectrum in terms of how they raised you, but their rejection had you sulky for an entire day. naturally, you spoke to your boyfriend about your frustrations, unintentionally slipping in the fact you wanted to go on a car ride with him.

it got him thinking. neither of you had a driver’s license… but what if he impulsively got one right now so he could fulfill that wish of yours? jisung has probably never acted on anything quicker.

he did tell you about his plans, knowing you wouldn’t really believe him on the get go. perhaps that was all for the best. he wanted this to be a surprise for you anyways.

and now here he was, parked at the front of your house with only one goal in mind — to grant your wish of a car ride with him; a spontaneous one at that.

you wonder how he knew exactly what you’ve been longing for a while now, not realizing your slip up a few weeks ago.

“baby, come on!” you snap out of your thoughts, focusing on the boy who’s now in front of you. he sported a lazy grin on his lips, making the corners of his eyes crease into tiny crescents. “i have a hoodie for you in my car too. it’s a little cold at night after all.”

the mention of him bringing you one of his hoodies already has you sold on the idea, prompting you to walk up to his car and get in the passenger’s seat.

as soon as you take your seat, jisung reaches out for your seatbelt, making sure you’re all buckled in. the close contact with your boyfriend was nothing new in your relationship, but for some reason, everything he’s been doing today has got your heart bouncing up and down.

you pat your cheeks to calm yourself down, a little habit jisung already picked up on. he knew you were enjoying this. “ji, where will we be going?” jisung swears he sees sparkles appear in your doe eyes. not to mention the pick hues that color your cheeks after you patted them earlier. you were going to be the death of him one day.

“it’s a surprise, baby.” a chuckle resounds from his chest, eyes glancing towards you for a quick moment before turning the car on and setting his sight back on the road. “you’ll just have to wait and find out, hm?”

“no fair!” you protest childishly, a few snorts managing to escape from you as you settle back into your seat.

although you’re as excited as ever for what your boyfriend has in store for you, there’s a wave of drowsiness that looms over your eyes. it was pretty late in the night, so how could anyone blame you. the sound of the car’s engine running mixed with jisung’s humming was enough to seal the deal, closing your eyes and letting sleep overtake you.

jisung peers over after noticing you were pretty still in your seat, realizing you had fallen asleep. he pulls over shortly, now rummaging through the backseat for the hoodie he brought, placing it over you before continuing the drive. it was going to take a little longer than expected to get to where he wanted, so he concluded you should just get undisturbed rest for the remainder of the ride.

you felt a slight nudge in your shoulder, eyes droopily waking up. “wake up, sleepyhead. we’re here.” jisung ruffles your head softly. his hands feel so warm and cozy you could almost fall back asleep, but you fight the urge to do so.

jisung gets out of the car first, rushing over to your side and helping you step out as well. he takes the forgotten hoodie from the car seat, helping you wear it so you wouldn’t feel cold.

it takes you a moment to realize he’s brought you to a viewpoint that overlooks the city’s nightscape, but when you do, a smile naturally appears on your features. the faint lights coming from the small buildings, the tiny cars that pass by on the streets below, and the cold air that barely seeps through the hoodie jisung lent you — this was everything you’ve wanted and more. “ji, ji! this is amazing! how did you even know this spot existed?”

“i just stumbled across this place before.” in truth, he actually spent countless nights searching up for the best spot to bring you to. was he going to admit to that? nope. was it worth every wink of sleep? of course it was because it was for you.

a couple of moments pass in silence, the both of you simply soaking in the breathtaking view. “you know, people actually come here to do something particular.” your boyfriend brings up, a small glint in his eyes as he peers down at you.

you don’t know what it is, but your face automatically heats up from the way he’s looking at you. “jisung we’re not doing that here.” you squawk out in disbelief, turning flustered by what he was trying to imply.

“baby, i meant kissing? who taught you these things, huh?” you bring out a laugh from him, finding your assumptions cute despite the nature of it. you were as bright as a tomato, a sight he’d cherish in his mind for a pretty long time. “could i kiss you though?”

you don’t know if him still asking you for permission to kiss you is needed, especially after the conversation you just had, but instead of answering him, you respond by pulling him down by the strings of his hoodie to kiss him.

it starts off sweet, almost as if you’re thanking him for your little trip, however, it gets a little needier as time progresses, and yet, his lips are as gentle as can be. you could stay like this forever, kissing him, under the starry sky. how did you get so lucky to have someone like him as your boyfriend?

“i love you.” he pulls away, breathless from the kiss. you smile, leaning in again to give him a soft peck. “i love you too. let’s have more dates like this, please?”

“anything for you, my baby.”

tags !!

[nemaliwrites]

Ooh, are you doing separate fics for Angstpril this year instead of one long one? Can we see some of the ideas?

Yup! Figured it would be a good opportunity to finish up some of the ideas in my drafts.

And YES you can indeed see some of the ideas! These are all working summaries btw which is why they're....Like That lol. As always, if any of these appeal to you, I am always happy to provide excerpts and/or expand on these ideas!

Fandoms: Danganronpa (v3 and Thh), Avatar, Persona 5, Miraculous, Paranormasight, Ace Attorney, Persona 4, Vampire Diaries, Wind Waker, Animal Crossing, JJBA, Age of Mythology

Prompts:

1. homesick | danganronpa thh

The survivors take a road trip after the end of the world.

2. frozen | avatar the last airbender

outsider pov, Yue being touched by the moon spirit manifests in strange ways.

3. broken-hearted | persona 5

Akira and Shiho get together. Ryuji and Ann deal the only way they know how (hooking up)

4. longing | miraculous

Zoé is used to loving people who don't love her back.

5. rise from the ashes | paranormasight

Ayame and the men in her life (derogatory)

6. this isn’t going to work | ace attorney

Dahlia is poison. This is not a good thing.

7. bad dreams | miraculous

falling in love with your sleep paralysis demon (mariblanc)

8. lost battle | miraculous

They say snakes can't feel love. Luka wishes this were true.

9. trust issues | ace attorney

Two children visit Lamiroir in the hospital, and they say they are hers. She doesn't believe them.

10. phantom pain | miraculous

Adrien and Marinette are body swapped; but why is she unable to resist any order Gabriel gives her as Adrien? Suspicious....

11. no way out | ace attorney

Mia promises to take Maya away from Aunt Morgan. It's a promise she never fulfills.

12. a little too late | persona 4

Yosuke starts training with Chie after Saki's death. It doesn't help.

13. learning the truth | ace attorney

Godot finds Morgan's letter to Pearl hidden in Kurain.

14. surrender | vampire diaries

Caroline/Tom Avery - they're both never anyone's first choice.

15. confrontation | ace attorney

Miles is a Fey. This changes things.

16. cry for help | new danganronpa v3

Miu doesn't have a soul mark. She definitely doesn't care.

17. last chance | persona 4

The fog's closing in, but they'll save Yukiko in time...right?

18. left behind | wind waker

Grandma's always wanted to be a hero.

19. trembling | miraculous

Masochism as a character study - Claw Noir Cataclysms Shadybug, but only after she asks him to.

20. broken | ace attorney

Phoenix offers poison; Kristoph takes it willingly.

21. faking a smile | animal crossing

Your friend is not the same; you pretend you see nothing.

22. drained | ace attorney

A children’s book author and a blind singer walk into a bar.

23. swept away | vampire diaries

Lexi and Alaric finally meet - but they're trapped together in the 1994 prison world.

24. the ghost of you | jjba

Shinobu and her husband swap bodies - whoever is in her now seems far too used to controlling a body that's not theirs.

25. cold shoulder | age of mythology

Kastor asks Arkantos for help. But the gods do not answer, and Arkantos is a god before he is a father.

26. grief | paranormasight and ace attorney

Harue travels to Kurain Village.

27. panicked | miraculous

Shadybug has the same mark for her soulmate and her greatest enemy.

28. never see you again | danganronpa thh

Outsider POV of the survivors after the killing game - but they think they're not alone.

29. betrayal | vampire diaries

It's far too easy for Jeremy to trust someone with his sister's face.

30. the last time | ace attorney

Thalassa forms a triangle; Zak and Valant are the other two points.

[sarifinasnightmare]

Popsicle Standoff

Rating: Sexual Innuendos Ahoy!

Paring: Sarah X Bucky

Author's Note: This is me killing two birds with one stone. So @sahtinekryze  put out this prompt about Cass, AJ and Bucky conspiring to hide a kitten from Sarah. This also fulfills the popsicle prompt. Hopefully I did good!

Summary: Cass and AJ rescue a kitten. Bucky has a soft spot for cats and decides to aid and abet them in hiding the little floof from their mother.

August 19-25: Popsicles

Bucky had endured torture. However what Sarah was doing in front of him was about to make him fold faster than a lawn chair.

It was supposed to be a distraction and a way to soften her up to what the boys had hidden up in their room.

When it came to the boys, Bucky was always 100% behind whatever decision Sarah made. However, when Cass and AJ came back from school carrying an adorable white ball of fluff that had been abandoned in a box on the side of the road, her NO PETS rule went flying out the window.

“Please don’t tell mom!” AJ pleaded as Bucky gently took the little kitten from his arms.

“We think it’s deaf.” Cass snapped his fingers close to the kitten’s ear and it didn’t flinch, too busy staring up at Bucky with matching blue eyes.

The little thing looked dehydrated, with a distended belly and probably covered with fleas. Still it mewed bravely and lifted a paw curiously. Bucky smiled remembering as a small boy the alley cats he often played with and how occasionally one would crawl on his lap for pets. Fighters and survivors, they were nonetheless tranquil, peaceful creatures.

“Let’s see if we can get the fleas off her.” He decided after giving her a quick inspection.

A check on the internet showed them how to give the kitten a proper washing and what it would need to eat. Bucky promptly went to the nearest store to get some proper food and had just returned when Sarah suddenly drove in.

“Mom’s here!” AJ cried out, hugging the freshly washed kitten wrapped snug in a towel.

The kitten mewled loudly in protest.

“Shh! Not so loud.” Cass hushed them both. “We got to hid her.”

Bucky sighed, in for a penny, in for a pound. “Take her upstairs. I’ll see what I can do with your mom.”

The boys quickly dashed up to their room just as Sarah walked into the house with a small bag of foodstuff. She caught the sounds of frantic steps and the door slamming shut along with hushed words. Bucky stood in the center looking awkward.

“Is there something I should know?”

“N-No.”

Now this was surprising. It was the first time Bucky had ever lied to her. Handing the groceries to him she decided to figure out what shenanigans was going down.

“I think I’m going to check on the boys.”

“Uh, wait!” He opened the freezer, looked around. “I’ve been craving a popsicle…Want to enjoy one with me?” Turning around he thrust one at her.

He’s stalling her. Now she knew something was up, but fine, if he wanted to play games, so be it.

“Okay,” she said, peeling off the plastic wrapping to reveal the classic red and orange popsicle swirl. Taking a seat across from him, she sucked the tip of the cold dessert and moaned in delight.

Bucky faltered, his popsicle missing his mouth by a mile as he watched Sarah begin to suck, lick and slurp on the long frozen pop.

“My girlfriends and I loved these on hot nights. We’d try to make it last as long as possible.” She mused as her tongue licked the sweetness of the popsicle first up, then down.

“Uh huh.” He said breathlessly.

“I remember Brenda was boy crazy and showed us her special trick.” Demonstrating, she pushed the popsicle far into her mouth and slowly dragged it out.

His jeans were now extremely tight, and his gaze was fixed on her every move.

She arched a brow. “Aren’t you going to eat yours? It’s melting all over your hand.”

“Uh,” He reached out to grab a napkin, missed and jostled the table before awkwardly wiping his hand.

Bemused, she took a delicate bite and let the icy sweetness melt in her mouth. “You’re wasting it.”

Bucky watched the way her tongue dragged over her lips, squirming, but tried to regain control and began to chomp at his popsicle, finishing it in three bites.

“You didn’t even enjoy it.” Sarah scolded gently as she slowly finished hers until she was only sucking on the stick.

“Jesus, Sarah,” He groaned, pulling the stick from her mouth and capturing her in a cool, sticky sweet kiss. He’d been tortured enough and now demanded some satisfaction.

She indulged him. Her tongue teased him, her teeth nibbled. His breath became heavy, and she brushed her hand against his jeans feeling his arousal.  

“I’m going to check on the boys.”

Before Bucky could even realize he’d been tricked, Sarah ran up the stairs to find out what was going on. Valiantly he tried to stop her but too late, she was inside AJ’s bedroom looming over the boys as they tried their best to look innocent despite the fact that the kitten was meowing loudly under the bed.

“What did I say?” She said, hands parked at her hips.

“Please mom! She was left to die all alone in a box!” Cass argued. “We couldn’t leave her like that.”

“You always tell us to help the less fortunate.” AJ added.

Bucky soon lumbered in awkwardly, his eyes darting around. “Where is she?”

The kitten crawled out from under the bed and made a beeline for the super soldier. With sharp, tiny claws she unabashedly climbed up his long legs until he could scoop her into his arms. Now safely established, the kitten looked up at Sarah and meowed her introduction.  

Sarah arched a brow. “Sassy, isn’t she?” She noticed how tenderly Bucky stroked the little thing’s soft white fur. “I see I’m already being replaced.”

“No, come on. You know you’re the only girl for me.” Bucky countered before shrugging. “She’s just a lost little kitten. Abandoned, forgotten, disabled…no friends.”

“Not abandoned nor alone. Not so long as a Wilson is around to save the day.” Sarah teased lightly as she gave into the urge and stroked the kitten’s soft head.

Bucky smiled faintly. “I know you told the boys no pets…but you never said I couldn’t have one.”

“Ooh! Yeah, you never said Uncle Bucky couldn’t have a pet. He can keep it!” AJ parroted excitedly.

“You know, instead of lying and stalling with popsicles, you could’ve just said you guys found a kitten.”

Cass frowned. “But you said no pets.”

“Yeah but I never said we couldn’t help a poor defenseless animal.” She countered. “She could stay but tomorrow she moves into Bucky’s place. Okay?”

“Yes Ma’am.” They said in unison. “Can we have a popsicle?” AJ added.

“Go for it.”

They quickly skedaddled out to the kitchen leaving the adults to with their new feline charge.

“So now that this has been settled what are you going to do to prevent me from making you sleep on the couch tonight?” Sarah said, folding her arms across her chest, waiting.

Bucky sighed. “I am sorry that I helped the boys smuggle a cat into the house and lie about it…and I promise that she’ll stay at my place. Please don’t make me sleep on the couch. You are the most beautiful, radiant, loving woman a guy could ever ask for.”

She stared at him for a moment. “I’ll think about it.” Then turned and went to join her sons.

Cat and cat owner watched her go.

The feline glanced up at him. “Mrrp.”

“Thanks for the encouragement.” Bucky replied. “Let’s go butter her up some more.”

In the end, Cass and AJ saved a cat, the cat got a new home, and Bucky managed to slide in beside Sarah that night to finish what they started with the popsicles.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Trick-or-Treat 🎃

I'll treat you (and myself) to the behind-the-scenes info about the writing of "The True Story". (There will be spoilers).

The idea for 84, Charing Cross Road + Imaginary Book Recs in an epistolary fantasy story came to me in one of the last days of September as a Team Chesterton possibility. I was very excited by the wish-fulfillment of writing characters to get to read these books I wish existed.

(For those who might not know, Imaginary Book Recs is a game I've been playing on my main blog for the past two years. In the first round, people sent me the titles of books they loved, and I "recommended" a similar book that didn't exist. In the second round, people sent me titles and genres, and I came up with plot summaries for these nonexistent books.)

Initially, the first letter was going to be from a woman whose family had history of buying books from a shop that carried books that came from alternate universes. She totally knew the history of the shop and where these books came from. And maybe I could fit in the theme by having the bookshop owner get arrested for selling an alternate-universe banned book or something.

That version fizzled out because figuring out the logistics of this alternate universe set-up was too complicated. And having the only fantasy element be "these people can read books that don't exist" didn't feel very fantastical (I can throw imaginary books into mundane contemporary fiction in exactly the same way). Plus, I knew from experience that trying to write an epistolary fantasy for Inklings never works.

In the last week of the Challenge, after my simpler ideas just weren't coming together, I suddenly got the idea to go for a more magical-realism take on this story's shop. Even the bookshop owners don't know where the books come from. That instantly gave it a more whimsical fairy tale feel. The conflict could involve the girl learning about the strange nature of these books. I fit in the "work of mercy" theme by having the FMC take care of a sick grandmother, and we were off to the races.

This is the first original story I've let myself discovery-write in a long time. I knew the story would involve the FMC coming to believe in the supernatural origins of the books. I had a handful of imaginary books I wanted to highlight. I knew the characters would meet in person by the end. Beyond that, I just let the characters talk, and let their conversations shape the story.

I tried really hard to highlight books in a way that fit the story. So I kicked off a story with a children's fantasy that would be a nostalgic tie between Christine and her grandmother. (Song of the Seafolk was invented in response to a prompt from @magpie-trove). Mysteries are a vast genre beloved by grandmothers, so The Wings of Hermes (from a title by @siena-sevenwits) came next. Mercator Must Walk the Plank was another beloved @siena-sevenwits title I had to feature, and comedy was a reasonable request from someone stressed out by dealing with illness. I felt odd featuring Alfred Quicke (with its ties to @isfjmel-phleg's fictional universe), but the comedy and mystery blend were the perfect mix after the previous two books, and I needed a long-running series to justify frequent use of the shop. The Autumn Queen's Promise (from a suggestion by @into-means) and The Queens of Wintermoon (inspired by @lover-of-the-starkindler) were both seasonally-focused fantasies I could reasonably fit in.

Originally the story was just going to consist of letters between Christine and Ben. When I introduced Mercator Must Walk the Plank, Ben mentioned "we read it aloud at the Christmas party" as part of his pitch. I realized that if they were donating a book with such personal significance, the other shop employees would probably want to chime in, and since I'd been vaguely hoping to include other employee voices, I threw in the notes from Penny and Heinrich.

This let me develop the secondary thread of Penny's letters. Penny provided the fun "let's fangirl over imaginary books" side of the story, while Ben's could stay more serious and plot-focused.

Penny's the main reason this story got finished. I woke up on the last day thinking that this was a terrible story. My mains had no personality beyond what I stole from 84, Charing Cross Road. I had no plot except "people talking about books no one had ever read". But Penny's letter was fun and voice-y, and made me think maybe there was a spark of something worthwhile here.

Looking back, I'm shocked at how little was planned. The Mercator fan club, and the subplot surrounding that book, was totally unplanned. Even the main themes were unplanned!

Seriously, Christine's initial response to Ben's "I hate agreeing to disagree" letter was "Thanks for agreeing to drop the subject. Now let's get back to talking about Imaginary Books." Then I came to my senses, realized I was bypassing a major source of story conflict, and started the subplot of Christine and Ben arguing about the existence of the supernatural.

Cardinal's Map was always going to be an important part of this story (from a suggestion by @siena-sevenwits, it's my favorite of the Imaginary Book Recs), but Christine and Ben's conversation gave me the chance to make this story match the themes of that imaginary book (which is probably the closest I'll ever get to writing that book). Instead of just being one book among a list, Cardinal's Map could now bring about the climax of the story.

I had an idea to have a fourth employee at Wright's and Co. who provided a third set of letters. Christine could fangirl with Penny, fight with Ben, and this third woman could offer more personal insight and advice--and she'd be the one to recommend Cardinal's Map. But as I wrote, there wasn't much space for her, and it worked much better to split her role between Ben and Penny.

I considered having Ben recommend the book, but that came across as very patronizing--"Here, read this book that proves I'm right." Having it come from Penny (who isn't involved in this argument) felt more natural (and made the miracle of the book feel more miraculous).

Until very late in the story, there was a 50-50 chance that Christine's grandmother would die, and the characters would meet at her funeral. But that offered too many emotional and logistical complications for me to resolve before the deadline, and I figured it was better to keep the story centered around Christine's internal journey with the books.

I don't know if this counts as a treat, because it went on so long, but here's hoping it's not totally disappointing.

[gayestnerdsinfiction]

Rivalry

requested by @micapearls (ed hearing jon full body laugh for the first time)

Ever since he first met Jonathan Crane, Edward has had an unshakable fixation on eliciting any type of emotional expression from the other man. To the untrained eye it would appear Jonathan was unable to experience any human emotions beyond displeasure and annoyance. Jonathan doesn’t cry, he doesn’t shout when they argue, he doesn’t allow any facial expression to inadvertently cross his stoic features. Over time, Edward has been able to get a better feel for the subtle cues that indicate his partner’s emotional state, but Jonathan still makes an effort to hold his feelings and opinions close to his chest. Edward wants so badly to break him of this habit. He’s lost count of the amount of meaningless arguments he’d blown out of proportion in the hopes of making Jonathan visibly angry. But perhaps that’s just trauma reenactment.

It was after one such failed attempt to goad Jonathan into an argument that Edward finally got what he was looking for. He had unsuccessfully tried to get a rise out of the other man, throwing out the cruelest, most spiteful things he could think of. Things he didn’t mean, things he doesn’t want Jonathan to think he meant. Unfortunately, this only resulted in Jonathan disappearing off into the lab, leaving Edward to sulk alone in the living room. He’s sitting on the couch, staring absently at the television when Jonathan finally reappears from the basement, his expression as austere and unreadable as ever.

“I’m having a drink,” the older man announces, breezing past Edward and into the kitchen. He removes a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and holds it up for Edward to see. “Do you want one?”

Edward doesn’t particularly care for whiskey but he can recognize a peace offering when he sees one. He nods wordlessly, sliding to one end of the sofa to make room for Jonathan to sit if he wanted to.

Jonathan pours the two drinks, bringing them into the living room and handing one to Edward. He accepts. Takes a small sip, trying to ignore the unpleasant taste.

“What are you watching?” Jonathan asks as he sits down a respectful distance away from Edward.

“News,” he says. “I’m looking at it more than I’m really watching it.”

Jonathan studies the screen for a few moments, sipping his own drink steadily. “Turn up the volume,” he says abruptly.

Edward obliges, directing his own attention to the TV as well. The reporter onscreen is standing in front of the Gotham University campus. There are cop cars and officers crowded around the building, many of them with heavy tactical gear and weapons.

“Shit, I hope whatever this is doesn’t screw up the heist I had planned for next weekend,” Edward mutters as he puts his drink down on the table.

“…As you can see the police are behind me attempting to negotiate the release of the thirteen hostages currently being held on the University grounds.” The camera cuts away from the reporter to show a closer shot of the police officers at the scene. Edward can make out commissioner Gordon speaking into a walkie-talkie at the front of the group. Bullock stands beside him, looking generally burly and gruff but otherwise not contributing much. “The location and condition of the hostages is unclear; all we know is that those thirteen students and faculty members are trapped somewhere in the Joker’s sadistic maze. More updates on the way as we continue to document the most recent criminal exploits of Gotham’s most fearsome criminal.”

“Ouch,” Jonathan says dryly. “Seems unfair that I’m not the most fearsome criminal in this city but I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.”

Edward, in the meantime, is too busy trying to navigate the mixture of anger, surprise, and jealousy that has begun burning in his chest to even register Jonathan’s comment. “He—I feel like I’m having a stroke, I mean, did that reporter say what I think she said?” he splutters, standing up from the couch to gesticulate wildly at the screen.

“What’s your problem?” Jonathan asks. “Joker does something like this every week, you can’t be surprised at this point.”

“You don’t understand,” he snaps, ignoring the heat he can feel rising into his face and ears. “I was going to do a sadistic maze at the university. Me! That fucking clown stole my idea! I mean, am I the only person with any goddamn integrity in this vile city?” He collapses back onto the couch, throwing his arms up. “I had the whole thing planned out, all the pieces built and ready to be set up and he just swoops in with his dollar store makeup and awful dye job and ruins everything like he always does. I mean, do you know how hard it is to build a maze from scratch and make it appear with fully functional traps and people in it before the cops show up? It’s not easy, I’ll say that. And it’s not cheap either!”

Jonathan watches Edward’s hysterical monologue in silence, takes a few moments to digest the entirety of the rant, and then bursts out laughing.

Edward’s jaw drops. Usually when Jonathan laughs it’s little more than a sharp exhale or the hint of a smile. But this laugh is a loud, unrestrained cackle, so raspy in places it almost sounds like a wheeze. It’s the first time he’s ever seen his partner seem genuinely tickled by something and he can’t even enjoy it because it’s at his own expense. He can’t tell if he’s more shocked to see his partner’s entire body wracked with laughter, or more indignant that he’s being laughed at in the first place. He snaps his mouth shut, his face screwing up into a scowl. “It’s not funny.”

“It absolutely is. Your whole thing with the Joker is hilarious.”

“It is not! He’s completely destroying my reputation, my career in this town. I mean, now I can never do that heist I had planned because the Joker already did it and everyone’s already accusing me of ripping off his costume and gimmick. If I even mention that I had the same idea, then people are going to try and accuse me of stealing his fucking intellectual property too.” He gets up again, pacing almost frantically around the room. “It doesn’t even make sense for him to do something with a school, I mean, I’m the one whose whole aesthetic and MO has to do with knowledge and learning. He should go terrorize a fucking comedy club or something, leave the higher education to those of us whose brain cells haven’t been fried by a vat of acid.” He glares at Jonathan who is still doubled over with laughter. “Stop laughing at me, I’m serious.”

He raises a hand to cover his mouth, though it does nothing to soothe his amusement. “I’m sorry. But you have to admit, you sound ridiculous right now.”

“I fail to see how this is ridiculous.”

“You’re demanding artistic integrity from a man who dresses like a clown and kills people for fun.” Jonathan manages to stifle his laughter a bit, but Edward knows he’s never going to let him live this down. “Besides, neither of you went to college so I don’t see how you have more of a right to a university based maze heist than him.”

He rolls his eyes. Jonathan loves to point out that Edward never went to college because it’s the only real accomplishment he has that Edward couldn’t easily replicate. Just because Jonathan suffered through nine years of higher education that would have driven Edward into a murderous rage doesn’t mean he’s better than him. “A maze is a type of puzzle is it not? Last time I checked I was the prince of puzzles which, in my eyes, makes me more entitled to use mazes in my traps. I also think it makes me sound cooler. I mean, ‘clown prince of crime’? How pathetic is that.”

“They’re both pathetic,” Jonathan says. “I don’t know why people keep trying to call us princes like we’re not all broke psychopaths.”

“I’m not broke.”

“But you don’t deny being a psychopath?”

Edward continues to glower at the other man who is still fighting against a smile. “I can’t believe you’re not on my side right now.”

Jonathan shrugs. “I mean, you have to admit your costume color schemes are remarkably similar.”

“They are not! My preferred color scheme is green and purple, his is purple and green, okay, they’re distinctly different!”

“Edward,” he says, using that tone he always takes when Edward is acting irrational, “Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit too seriously?”

“Not in the slightest,” he insists, knowing that this is arguably a stupid thing to care about. “You’ll never know what it’s like to always play second fiddle to everyone’s favorite costumed criminal. At least people are scared of you. Everyone just thinks I’m some kind of joke thief.”

“Well, maybe you need to give them something to be scared of. Show them you mean business.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you propose I do that in a way that is both on brand and not derivative of the Joker’s own crime sprees?”

Jonathan’s smile changes, becoming less humorous and more devious. Edward can see the familiar gleam in his eye that indicates the Scarecrow’s mind is hard at work. There’s the Jonathan he’s used to. “I bet I could give you a few ideas,” he says slyly, finishing the rest of his drink in a single swallow. “If you don’t have any qualms about torturing people.”

Despite the fact that he’s still annoyed with Jonathan for making fun of him, Edward can’t help but flash a smile back at the other man. There’s just something about those clever, sinister eyes that always draw him right back in. “What did you have in mind?”

[unbridgeabledistances]

hi 💜💜 i got a prompt about ian x body image a while ago (my inbox is a hot mess and i may have deleted the prompt lol, but i did paste it into my phone notes)- and i was feeling some feelings today & had some spare time amidst my travels & ended up writing this!!

prompt: can you write about ian and his relationship with his body image, esp post-canon when they move to the westside

(tw for body image/eating disorder/food mentions)

--

He didn’t really even think about it the first times that he did it— skipping a few meals that went unnoticed in the morning clamor of the Gallagher kitchen. He noticed his skin growing tauter and tighter around his abdomen with every passing day, a hollow absence sitting like a rock in the pit of his stomach.

He did it for a reason—he’d been getting more lingering looks under the flashing lights at the club, more unwelcome fingers pressed against the now-present ridges on his stomach, tracing his toned upper arms. The less there was of him, the more they wanted him.

The thing about Ian is that he was always disciplined; the middle child, the one who was overlooked and ignored and blended in until he decided that he had to make a name for himself. He and Lip and gotten into hair-tugging, jaw-smashing fights about this very reality; Ian was completely, totally, absolutely ordinary. Until he made himself extraordinary—until he burst through the storefront labeled “ARMY” at a strip mall with smudged windows and said with a tall chest: I want to enlist.

Everything had led up to this— every push-up on the creaking slanted floor of their childhood bedroom, every jog at the crack of dawn. He was going to make something of himself, he was going to be a hero.

He was going to get the fuck away from Mickey, and his wife, and whatever else kept pushing him down and holding him back.

When Ian came back from the army, when he was sleeping on exposed floorboards and working at the club all night—that was when it all actually started. When he decided that less of him meant more—when he decided that he should give people the best show he could, because everything else was fucked up anyways. This was all he was good for.

But then Mickey came through the door, pale skin flashing in the strobe lights, wearing that fucking dark button-up with sleeves folded to his forearms and smelling like nice cologne that he’d almost definitely stolen from one of his brothers’ bathroom shelves; and for a brief moment after the initial shock set in, Ian was proud— proud of how much negative space surrounded him, proud of how he could press his thighs into stretched golden spandex better than any of the other men thrumming to the beat beside him on the podium. Proud of how much other people wanted him, when Mickey didn't.

It was only later, after Mickey carried him home (easily, too easily) after he’d passed out in a snowbank, and Ian had woken and waited for Mickey to burst into his bedroom door at the Gallagher house while he leaned against the wall and scribbled on a notepad— later, when Mickey was about to curl on the floor and sleep using one of Liam’s balled-up t-shirts as a pillow— that Ian noticed Mickey’s eyes lingering on his uncovered torso, a second longer than the quick glances of admiration from the well-dressed men with greased-back hair and grubby fingers at the club. It hit Ian, then, when he saw Mickey’s gaze that was soft around the edges, the same fuzziness and confusion of Fiona’s stares when he would chatter on for too long in the mornings:

He’s worried about me.

But Mickey played along— Ian was back, and Mickey stayed beside him this time, and chuckled when he walked down the stairs to the sight of Ian cutting off the bottom half of his old ROTC pants, now multiple sizes too big and hanging baggy even at the hips. Mickey curled beside him on the twin bed, silently stroking hair back from his forehead and cradling his cheeks with a feather-light touch as Lip and Liam’s even, sleeping breaths swirled around them. And Ian kept doing pull-ups, and told Carl that he liked the way that Mickey smelled. Mickey came out for him. And for a while things were really, really fucking good, and Ian didn’t even think about the gnawing hollow feeling in his stomach at all any more.

Until a grey morning came, quick and silent, and kept him frozen under the sheets for days.

In the months afterwards, Ian trained harder, faster—he met up with Fiona as she pushed Liam in the stroller and jogged beside them, ran before and after shifts at the club, did push-ups on Mickey’s grimy floor while he was out handling Rub N’ Tug shit.

I’m not Monica. This wasn’t going to happen again. His body could do this. His body could fix his brain.

It couldn’t.

Most of what happened on the “road trip” with Yevgeny (that was the only phrasing that Ian could really mentally use to name the incident, the only semiotic filler for “kidnapping” that didn’t want to make him burrow even deeper under his tattered blankets) was a blur—Mickey feeding him fistfuls of pills and room-temperature Gatorade, luring Mickey to the dugouts where he tried to do a pull-up and felt a quivering in his limbs, a weakness rather than a familiar and fulfilling burn. Slamming Mickey in the face with a fist that was too flimsy, too weak—a fist that still left the blooming of a bruise on Mickey’s jawline, a splatter of blood caking into his eyebrow. But still weak, still not enough. Definitely not strong enough to fight off two MPs with loaded guns, tangling his hands behind his back and forcing him into the backseat of a car.

More blurry days— on the road with Monica. Breaking up with Mickey. Getting a job at Patsy’s. Withering away, purple bags sagging under his eyes. Becoming less, always less.

Then, a glimmer of light— he met Caleb. He studied to be an EMT. He got a call from Mandy, got to wrap her in his arms in less-than-ideal circumstances.

“I got tired of starving myself to fit in that golden thong.”

It was the first time he’d said it out loud.

He started to run again—and he started to not miss it, the hollow feeling gnawing at his insides, the twisting lack. He met Trevor, he went to brunches, he ordered mimosas and muffins and kept himself in shape, but didn’t push himself too far.

So it surprised him, really, when once again his body and mind weren’t in sync.

That was the biggest thing he’d think about, in the idle hours of he and Mickey’s prison cell, months later—that for once in his life, years after the nights at the club or the hazy early mornings at Patsy’s or in a baggy janitor uniform, he was actually doing really, really fucking good. He had a following. He was strong. Or at least he thought he was.

But something about being near Mickey pulled him out of his head and into his body, centered him— it always did. Mickey had always liked his body; Ian remembered how Mickey’s eyed at lingered that night at the dugouts, when they were two kids doing pull-ups and Mickey watched his muscles clench in the moonlight, two sets of shining eyes and bodies warm with beer leaning closer to each other in the muggy air. But Ian never felt a need to flaunt his body, or change his body, for Mickey— and in so many ways, those first days in prison were like his body was coming home. Sometimes it was hard, and fast, and filthy words whispered into each other’s skin—and sometimes it left them grasping for breath in an entirely different way, in fingertips lazily skimming over collarbones and fisted into roots of hair, of breathed “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful”s escaping Mickey’s parted mouth that Ian mentally stored but never brought up again, because he knew in the best case scenario Mickey would just roll his eyes and call him a “soft bitch,” and in the worst he would just flat-out deny it. But Ian felt balanced in a way he hadn't in months, with all the "Gay Jesus" bullshit pressing in. He took his meds, he did his nightly sit-ups, he counted down the days—until the hourglass was slipped out from under his fingertips and he was teleported back to the Gallagher house, back to the place where so much of this began and so much was about to end.

The hollowness, the hunger, didn’t really need to be there anymore once he was out— it was only a dull murmur. A ghost, a memory trapped in dreams of strobe lights and prying hands.

Mickey got out, and they got married—and in the moments before Ian called Mickey an “ugly motherfucker” as he let a smile crack onto his face—and he knew Mickey felt it, knew Mickey heard: I have never known anyone as beautiful as you.

And Ian’s fullness just kept blooming and compounding and radiating after the wedding; they fought, and then they didn’t, and it didn’t matter anyways because they were fucking married. Ian kept doing sit-ups before they went to bed, even though he felt like he didn’t really have to anymore. Something big had shifted; something had settled and given way, had filled in all the cracks.

So he’s surprised, when they move to the West Side, and that feeling starts to stir again; faint, fuzzy, like some sort of invasive and shapeless amoeba in the dark corners of his brain, whispering and hissing that there should be less of him. On their first morning in the new place he heads to the gym, wearing a camo t-shit that covered his torso and shoulders—and of course he ends up making a fool of himself next to some guy, some guy that he could have been, with sweaty toned abs and bronzed skin and rippling muscles. He doesn’t know why it gets to him, that small interaction—he’s so much happier now, so fucking happy he’s buzzing with it, but there’s also something churning in the faultlines of transition; that aching for hollow absence and stretched skin and interested eyes, that feeling that made him woozy and lightheaded as a kid but also sickeningly proud, like every moment of standing tall, of dancing, of staying alive was a statement, a challenge, a test of how much he could push his ability to be desired.

He immediately pushes the thought down. He doesn’t fucking need that anymore to keep his head above water; he’s stable, he’s loved, he’s fed. He’s growing organic tomatoes, and definitely developing a farmer’s tan from his days hunched over their way-too-tiny community garden plot tenderly watering and pruning the vines and brambles. He is desired. So it doesn’t make fucking sense that the hunger, the clawing in his stomach for the absence, doesn’t really stop.

**

“Okay Gallagher, spill.”

Ian felt his eyebrow raise instinctively at Mickey’s tone. “Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at this fancy fucking chicken thing you made for, like, twenty minutes. Stop staring at it and eat your goddamn dinner.”

He felt a twist in his gut. I don’t want to.

“M’actually not really that hungry.”

Mickey’s eyes narrowed. “The fuck’s up? You stressed about work shit?”

Ian huffed out a breath of relief. “Nah. It’s not that.” He fiddled with his fork on the plate, drawing lines into the sauce pooled under the tomato-basil chicken he’d made. It was healthy, it was good, he’d worked out today; he could stomach a couple bites of dinner if he fucking had to. He just had to work up to it. Even the smell was making his stomach twist— it had smelled good while he was cooking it, placing fresh-scented basil leaves into the simmering sauce, but now it just was too much.

Mickey’s boot nudged against his calf from under the kitchen island. “Ey. Is it a tired thing? Or a… sick thing?” His eyes darted to their kitchen cupboard, where Ian kept his meds on the bottom shelf by the water glasses. “Or, like, a food thing?”

Ian felt his fingers go slack around his fork. “A food thing?”

“Yeah, man, y’know. When you get all weird about food.”

A tightness in his chest. “What the fuck? I don’t get weird about food.”

Mickey’s eyes flickered to meet his—and Ian would have gotten more pissed off if he didn’t see the soft concern bleeding into Mickey’s gaze, how cautiously Mickey was trying to broach the topic. Ian blew out a breath. Of fucking course Mickey noticed this shit— he always did.

“Weird how?”

“I don’t know, man. You’re usually good, especially compared to when you were fucking starving yourself when we were kids. But, uh… I don’t know.” Now it was Mickey’s turn to play with his food, scraping his fork along the remnants of sauce on his plate that was nearly clean. “You got kind of weird about working out and shit in prison. And then at the house, with all the quarantine bullshit the first few weeks. Eating fuckin’ cereal all the time, then not eating at all. You’ve been normal since then, or whatever. Lookin’ healthy.” Ian felt Mickey’s gaze drag over him. “Just don’t want you getting stressed out and not eating again or whatever.”

Ian felt a muted warmth blooming in the hollow of his stomach, filling in the cracks of where the jagged feeling continued to claw. If it was anyone else laying out this fucking analysis of his habits Ian would’ve gotten defensive—or at the very least annoyed, that someone was pinning down yet another one of his behaviors, putting them under a fucking clinical microscope.

But of course, this was Mickey— and the difference with Mickey was that he cared, he cared so much that it made Ian’s body ache every time he realized it. Those words wouldn’t have come tumbling out of Mickey’s mouth if they hadn’t been building for a while, hadn’t been gnawing away at some corner of his mind over time.

Ian raised a hand over the table to clasp into Mickey’s warm palm—reaching over the empty plate, the plate of uneaten food.

“It’s, uh. A food thing.”

Mickey’s eyes met his—open, listening.

“You’re right about all the starving myself shit from forever ago. And the not eating. And the… quarantine stuff. I guess I just thought that now that things were good, it’d go away? And I feel so fucking good right now. But sometimes I just have weird days.”

Mickey huffed out a breath. “I fucking know you do, dumbass. M’just saying that I notice that shit. And we can figure it out.”

Ian felt the corner of his mouth tick upwards. “I really thought it was gonna go away. I’m a fucking adult.”

Mickey shrugged. “Sometimes shit doesn’t work like that, Gallagher.” He chugged a sip of water from his glass, apparently glad that this heavier part of the conversation was over now that he knew what was up. “It’s like what you tell me about my shit with Terry. Trauma doesn’t just magically fucking disappear.”

Trauma. He’d never really thought about it like that before—he had plenty of childhood shit to work through, between abandonment and raging mental illness; and he’d never really thought that his body image issues made the list.

But maybe they did— maybe this was another wound, one that he could learn to heal.

Mickey kicked his shin under the table. “There’s cereal and stuff in the cabinet, I got the Fruit Loops shit you like. Want me to wrap up the chicken and shove it in the fridge?”

All he could do was nod— and once again feel that warmth on his insides that Mickey was this good, that he knew how to make shit like this easier.

And he snuggled into the couch beside his husband, a bowl of soggy cereal in his hands.

[army-author]

the colourless years | myg

❝ when you met your soulmate, your black and white world was suddenly flooded with colour. however, when the war forces your soulmate to part with you, the colours slowly begin to fade away... ❞

➝ pairing: yoongi x reader

➝ prompt: “a future without you is a world without colour, filled with monochrome coldness.” (your eyes tell)

➝ genre: angst; fluff; soulmate au; wartime au

➝ word count: 1.2k

The colours started fading ever since Yoongi left for the war.

Every day, as the hours creep endlessly by, you notice small changes in his absence. The tomatoes you chop for dinner are less vibrant. Your favourite lilac dress is less stunning. The gold on your wedding band is less bright.

You’re not sure what the fading colours mean, but they worry you, clouding your head and bringing a painful lump to your throat.

You used to live in a world without colour. Before Yoongi entered your life, your experience was black and white. You had bumped into him on a white spring morning, as you walked down the grey street to buy your groceries. You had crossed the road without looking, and heard the furious ringing of a bike bell as warning, before a man swerved to avoid hitting you. He flew from his bike saddle as his wheel ploughed into the curb.

Crumpled on the black tarmac, the man had sat up, wincing. He was about to berate you for not looking where you were going, before he paused, mouth hanging open, rendered speechless as he gaped at you. In that instant you knew he was seeing what you were seeing: colour. For the first time: colour. Bright and stunning; it was a whole new way of living.

It was the sign that you had found your soulmate. The world was suddenly flooded with vibrant hues. You understood what people meant when they said the sky was blue, that the trees turned pink with blossoms in the spring, that the world was so much more beautiful with every shade of the rainbow in it.

Pink blossoms fluttered down in flurries, showering you in a blush of colour as you stared at your soulmate, sitting on the tarmac, his bike by his feet, with its chain in a tangle. His expression softened into a smile. “Well, I suppose you’ll be the one who’s kept me waiting,” he said, and you smiled back:

“I suppose I am.”

That was all it took to fall in love with him. Suddenly you had a soulmate. You slotted into each other’s life so perfectly, as if you were always meant to be together.

You moved in together, got married, and made many colourful, happy memories.

Then the war began.

All the fit, healthy young men were enrolled. Just like that your husband was wrenched from your life.

Each week he sent you a letter from the frontline, inscribed with his love. He sent pictures too. He looked so different with his cropped hair, and his dull uniform. The black and white of the picture reminded you of your old life before you met him.

As you and Yoongi spent more time apart, the colour slowly sapped from your world. In Yoongi’s letters, he informed you that things were appearing duller for him as well, as if the colour had drained away. He said he wasn’t sure if this was simply what war did to a man.

When you had first realised what was happening, you had wept. Unconsolable, on your own, you had stood staring at the rose bush in your garden – the one Yoongi had planted because he knew roses were your favourite. The bright pink petals were less bright than before. Sobs wracked your body, enough that you feared the sorrow would rip your very frame apart.

Despite the pain of being parted from your soulmate, you continue on, wiping off the tears, and carrying on with life in the best way you can. Your mind still hovers on Yoongi, worries clouding your thoughts. Is the faded colour a warning? Will the war rend you further apart? Will you ever see colour in the same way again?

As the war rages on, the letters from Yoongi become less frequent. It has been a long time since you have received a letter from him. The colours seep out of your life, faster than before. You cannot even tell the colour of the jumper you are wearing.

Every day, you dread receiving a new letter, in case it isn’t from Yoongi, but instead the kind that starts: ‘We’re very sorry to inform you that your husband has passed away while in service to his country.’

You try to stay optimistic. There are the occasional colours you spot in your life, holding a promise of hope. The most vibrant part of your house is the nursery, which Yoongi had helped paint before he was called away. You had been planning to raise a family in this house, but had not been able to fulfil that wish yet. The walls of the nursery are yellow. Yoongi had painted scenes across the sunflower shade, depicting animals frolicking in a blossom-filled field. These walls still appear bright and colourful, even now. When you are overcome with worry, you like to sit in this room, staring at the vivid details Yoongi left behind. As long as you can still make out the colours in this room, you know Yoongi is okay.

One day, after an eternity of waiting, you hear bells ringing out across the city. The bells are different from the sirens you are used to. You step out into the streets, asking the women and children who pour out of neighbouring houses what the chiming means. They tell you that it’s a celebration. The war is over.

You follow the other women, crowds pushing and shouting as people move towards the city square. It is pure chaos at the centre of the crowd. Families are finally reunited – fathers with daughters, husbands with wives, fiancés with fiancés. You push through. Confetti flutters down from balconies and roofs in showers of rainbows. The confetti’s colours are vibrant and bright. You pick up speed, squeezing through groups of hugging families. You shout out Yoongi’s name, searching frantically above the throng of heads. The sky above you is melting from a light grey to a luminous blue. You force yourself deeper into the crowd, not even minding being poked on all sides, trampled by those searching for loved ones.

Then, finally, you spot him.

“Yoongi!” you scream out his name, and he turns at the sound of your voice. Recognition flashes in his eyes. He’s pushing towards you, desperate to reach you in the wild sea of people. His fingers stretch out clasping yours, and he pulls you to him. You are surrounded by his strong arms, picking you and up and spinning you around.

He still smells familiar, even now, like home. You close your eyes, letting his warmth sap into you. You grip him tightly, scared that you’ll loose him if you let go, ripped apart once more. But, no, when you open your eyes, he’s still there, smiling down at you.

Beyond his face, the world is bright, colours singing harmonies in your blurred vision. “I told you that I’d see you again,” he breathes the words for you alone.

You push your mouth to his. He kisses you back suddenly desperate for your touch. Years apart evaporate in an instant, as his mouth reminds you of happy memories, now with a promise of a happy future.

He parts from you momentarily, his brown eyes drinking you in, as if he cannot believe he’s seeing you again.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” you breathe.

“I’ll never leave you again.”

You kiss him once more, sealing his vow.

- THE END -

[yoonia]

About Time // Part 20.5

➬ Character | Jungkook x reader / Jimin x reader (feat. BTS) 

↳ Type/Genre/words | Angst, Fluff, Alternate Universe (Time Travel!au/Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au), Eventual Smut / 9,2k words

↳ Prompts | “What if you find your soulmate… at the wrong time?” - Lauren Kate, Passion

↳ Summary | Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?

↳ Ratings | Mature/+18 and up

↳ Warnings | LGBT+ conversations, mentions of fighting and alcohol consumption

↳ ⤎ Previous Chapter | Series Index: About Time | Next Chapter ⇢

(Taehyung’s POV)

Song Companion: Teflon Sega - No Turning Back

—First life, year 2005—

My parents loved to take me on car rides ever since I was a little boy.

They had always said it was one of the easiest ways they had found that could calm me down from what they called as ‘one of my moods’—whatever that meant.

In a way, car rides had always felt comforting. It was better to be stuck in a car instead of staying at home, where it felt stuffy and lonely, even if my parents would only drive around the neighbourhood instead of taking me anywhere far. It was still better because looking out the car window allowed me to see everything—the trees we passed by, the land around us and the mountains in the distance—and they were all still better to look at compared to the sight that I could see out my bedroom window. Nothing but the neighbours’ rusty walls and the empty lot behind our house that neighbourhood kids would use to hangout at. Sometimes, my parents would even drive all the way to the next town. Or even further to the next, in which we would stay a bit longer at instead of heading back to where we had taken off from earlier that same morning.

It wasn’t until when I was a bit older when I finally understood what it had truly meant to be driving so far and why my parents would pack up various boxes when we were off to travel somewhere. That sometimes when my father said, “Let’s go for a drive,” it would not always mean that he was talking about driving around the neighbourhood to go sightseeing.

Sometimes, I would pay enough attention to notice when we were not going to return to the same home once the drive ended. Just like how this car ride had felt different compared to the last times I sat there in the backseat of my Dad’s car.

Looking out the window, I immediately knew that this was not one of those rides where my father would be driving me around the block or down to the rice fields and farmlands around where we lived at the time. I already knew which kind of drive this was when it had included my Mom packing most of our things into the car and when I could see the moving truck following us close behind when I looked over the rear window.

It had been a while since we had gotten on a long trip that I thought we would never be taking off again. We had left before the sunrise, and hours had passed but we were still going, passing the villages and small towns, then the long highway. We only stopped a few times to eat and to use the bathroom. Sometimes I would fall asleep and wake up at a new place, but it seemed like we would be on the road for a long time.

I kept my eyes out on the road with my head pressed against the car window, watching the trees flashing by, the old houses and the stores turning into hills before we were passing through more buildings. Then I must have dozed off a bit longer at some point because it was almost dark when we finally stopped.

Really stopped.

I jumped on my seat when the sound of the car doors opening and closing woke me up, then I looked around to see that my Dad had parked the car in front of a house.

“We’re here!” I heard my Mom said, opening the backseat’s door to get me. “Come on, Tae. Let’s take a look at the new house.”

I was still feeling sleepy when I finally stepped out of the car. My legs were heavy and my back was hurting, but I followed my Mom as she walked around the car, rubbing my eyes all the way down from the car. I stopped before we could step onto the porch, looking at the house that looked old, but a lot bigger than the one we used to live in. The walls were made of red bricks, and we had a front yard too with green grass on it, unlike the dry patches we had at the old house.

“Taehyung, come in. Let me show you your new room,” I heard my Mom calling me from the front door. I took one last look at the house before I ran to her, excited and scared at the same time as I walked up the porch and followed her into the house.

Our new home.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going on a playdate.”

We had been in this new town for a week. My Dad had been busy with his new job, but both me and my Mom had been staying home, unpacking all the boxes and cleaning up the new house. The only times I had seen my Mom not doing anything at the house was when a few neighbours came to visit or when she went out to do some groceries. This was the first time she finally took me out. Her hand was holding mine as we walked side by side on the sidewalk, heading somewhere at the end of the street.

“A what?”

“A playdate.”

“What’s that?”

My Mom reached out to brush my hair with her fingers while she kept the other hand still holding mine. Both of us knew that whatever she did on my hair wouldn’t help much and I would probably get them all messy again in a minute, but maybe she needed to keep herself busy because she seemed more nervous than I was and maybe she figured she could try to keep my hair look tidy and decent before we got to where she wanted us to go to.

“It means you get to play with a new friend while I get to know our new neighbours,” she said, looking almost distractedly when she spoke. I looked up and that was when I confirmed how nervous she was. Back at our old home, we rarely became friends with the neighbours living close by. Most of the people we knew were older people, and some of my Mom’s friends lived a bit far from home, making it hard for her to see them regularly. “You’re going to start school in a week, and yesterday, Mrs Jung from down the street told me that her children are going to the same school as you are. She invited us to visit so that you can get to know them and make friends with them so you can have someone to play with.”

“I had friends,” I said, scrunching my nose. It made my Mom stop, and she kneeled down next to me with a rueful smile.

“I know, honey,” she said, sighing, once again reaching up to brush my hair back again after a breeze made a few strands fall over my face. “I know that it sucks to move away again, but I promise you, you can have many new friends and a lot of fun. Just like how we used to.”

Mom gave me another smile before she stood back up, already continuing the walk. I said nothing as I walked with her, not even to explain that it wasn’t just about making new friends that I was worried about. “Why did we move here?”

“We told you. Your Dad got a new job here,” she said to me while glancing sideways at me.

“What’s wrong with the old one?”

This time, my Mom laughed a little. “Nothing wrong with that one,” she sneered, sighing the same way she would when she was trying not to get angry. I remembered how she kept telling my Dad how much she hated his old job. Because he went away a lot and he was always tired and cranky whenever he came home from work. “Your Dad got himself a better job in this town and there was no way we could have stayed in that old town we lived in. He won’t be away too much now like he did when he was working in that factory since he’s going to be sitting behind the desk more. Our house is also bigger, isn’t it? And the school is going to be better.”

My Mom was getting more excited the more she spoke, and all I did was give her a nod. “Okay.”

Soon, we were standing on the front porch of a house that looked a bit similar to our new house. Except that the front yard had more bushes and flowers and the grass was trimmed and looked fresh, unlike the ones we had in ours, and the walls were painted white. The door was opened only a few minutes after my Mom rang the bell and a woman appeared to welcome us. She looked about the same age as Mom, with a wide smile that looked friendly and it made me feel less nervous about being here. They chatted for a moment before the woman turned to me.

“And this must be Taehyung. Oh, it looks like you’re about the same age as my kids. I heard that you’re going to be at the same school with them, so I hope you kids can be good friends. My son is a bit older, but I think you can get along with him just fine. I know that boys can have a hard time getting along with girls, though I have no doubt that you can get along with my daughter. She’s always good at adjusting to new friends, even if she’s a bit younger. She skipped a year and got into school early because she got bored in kindergarten.”

We walked in with my Mom still holding my hand. I was not completely sure if she was doing that to stop me from running or if she was still nervous about being here. Meanwhile, Mrs Jung continued to talk about her children as she led us all the way to the back of the house.

“Here we are,” Mrs Jung said as we entered the dining room. There was a girl who looked a bit younger than me sitting at the dining table while drawing with crayons, and Mrs Jung immediately called for her attention. “Honey, come here. We have a new friend. Maybe you want to say hi and play with him for a while while I have a chat with Mrs Kim?”

The girl looked up to us and jumped out of her chair. She didn’t even seem nervous when she was walking over to us. I couldn’t remember having any girl as a friend in my old school. Most of them had always stayed away from the boys at school and I had no trouble doing the same. But when she came to me, she showed no sign of turning away or looking at me funny just like other girls did.

All she did was look at me with wide curious eyes, and it really felt like we had known each other already when she raised her hand to me. “Hi, my name is _________. What’s yours?”

School started a few months ago. Overall, I thought it was okay.

Everything was different compared to my old school. Just like everything else in this town compared to the small town we moved out from, the school was much bigger than the one I went to. Most of the students in my class had already formed their groups—another thing that the old school certainly did not have, because, with smaller classes, nobody had any problem getting close to each other. I still made a few friends, though. Not a lot, but it wasn’t like I really needed a lot of friends either.

It was lunchtime when I sat at the edge of the playground, eating the sandwich and handmade kimbab that my Mom made for me. I was glad not to be sitting alone, as I had my new friend sitting beside me. The playdate that my Mom took me to after we moved here had turned out to be a lot of fun. ________ was fun to play with and we would have continued playing on that first day we met if only my Mom didn’t come to call me in for dinner.

After that day, we had gone into a couple more playdates before school started. I was also introduced to her brother, Hoseok, and the three of us would play and hang out together whenever my Mom would take me to visit their house on the weekends. At school, _____ and I shared the same class, and although we didn’t sit together in class, we would always eat together at lunchtime.

“Why aren’t you playing with them?” she asked me while we were watching the boys from our class playing dodge ball in the playground.

I only shrugged after looking over to the field, watching them throwing the ball at each other. “I don’t play ball.”

She snickered. “Yeah, you do. You played ball with Hoseok last week,” she argued, her brows were pinched the same way she would when she grew curious or annoyed.

I scrunched my nose at her. “That’s different. That was football,” I told her, and she shrugged at me in return.

“Still a ball,” she sassed while rolling her eyes at me.

“Whatever,” I said. “Besides, I don’t really get along with the boys from our class.”

“So you’re more okay sitting with a girl,” she said, more like making a statement instead of questioning me.

“What���s wrong with that?”

She looked away for a moment. “I don’t know. The other boys seem to make it a big deal.”

“That’s silly,” I scoffed at her. I didn’t really care about what people think. It never mattered to me anyway because I didn’t even care about what they did around me either. And I never liked forcing myself to get along with people that didn’t like me. “Besides, I like you better.”

She suddenly laughed when she heard me. It was the kind of laugh that made her head fall back, which was actually pretty adorable. “I thought you like my brother a lot more.”

Grinning at her, I just shrugged and bit my sandwich. “So I like both you and Hoseok. Playing with you and your brother is more fun.”

“Right. Of course, it is,” she said, giggling while nudging at my side. “You’re okay if people think you’re weird for hanging out with me instead of the boys?”

“I don’t care,” I told her, shaking my head. “How about you?”

______ looked around before smiling at me and said, “Me neither.”

We continued to eat for a moment before I thought of something. “What if you’re my girlfriend?”

“What?”

I shrugged, but kept my eyes away from her. “Maybe if we become boyfriend and girlfriend it won’t look weird for us to sit together like this.”

She had her nose scrunched when I took a glance at her. “Kids don’t become boyfriends and girlfriends.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, they do. You just don’t know about it yet.”

She pinched her brows again, thinking seriously about it. “Is it because you’re older than everyone else in class?”

“What do you mean?”

“My Mom said that you were supposed to be one grade above me, not share the same class,” she said. Despite what she just told me, she just didn’t realise that she always sounded like an older girl when she spoke like that. “Is that why everyone looks at you weird sometimes?”

I didn’t say a thing. She was not wrong, though. With my parents moving so much and having to change schools each time it happened, it was hard for me to catch up with classes. After constantly going to new places, making new friends, new adjustments, then the last school I went to insisted that I stayed a year behind to catch up on what I had missed. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t really care,” I said. And I really didn’t. After a while, I had stopped caring about all the moving and what it did. But some kids always made it a big deal when this older kid joined their class in the middle of the term. Not at the previous school I went to, though. They seemed to think I was cool because I knew a lot more than they did.

“Do you care if I’m older?” I asked her.

I had expected her to at least consider her answer for a moment, but all she said was, “No, I like having older friends.” Then she scrunched her nose as if she had just realised something. “But not too old. Hoseok’s friends are weird.”

A bite of the sandwich almost got caught in my throat when I laughed. After swallowing it down with the cold juice I brought with me from home, I turned to her and grinned. “Fine, if you don’t want to be my girlfriend, then—” I cleared my throat and offered her my pinky finger. That was one of the things I learned from her since we became friends, and I figured it would be the best option to gain her approval when I made the offer, “How about best friends?”

Her smile grew. She seemed confused at first, but she managed to realise that I was serious and gave me her pinky to link it to mine. “The bestest friends!”

I snickered. “That’s not even a word!”

“It is now!”

—First life, year 2017—

There was something about being in the library that I enjoyed most.

The calm and serene air. The scent of books. Then there was some kind of warmth that I couldn’t find anywhere else whenever I was there.

It was fall, and the library had been pretty much packed with students that were trying to catch up with readings and assignments as the midterm was coming closer. Sitting among the students, I had chosen a reading booth on the far corner of the library, and I had my best friend, _______, sitting with me. She wasn’t too big on libraries. She never even truly cared about studying either. But after wasting her freshman year partying and enjoying life on campus, and then getting too focused on her relationship with the prick from one of the campus’ frat house all through sophomore year, she needed to catch up a lot on her studying and I was the one responsible in making sure that she did.

But that day, our agenda was not only about getting her to finish reading her textbooks or finding the materials needed for our midterms.

That day, we were scouting.

“That’s him,” I pointed out across the room just as he passed by, and _____ perked up, her gaze following the direction where I was pointing at until she saw him. I only knew she did when her eyes grow wide with a hint of amusement and appreciation. He really did have that kind of effect on people, whether it was male or female. “His name is Kim Namjoon. A senior of mine on my social study class,” I explained to her, mentioning the class I had taken last semester for my minor.

“Wow—you do have a taste there. He’s hot,” she said as she leaned closer, whispering to me while giving him another look. “—and a bit too handsome as someone who is going to be cutting through people’s brains,” she also added.

I snickered. “Yeah, right,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I thought you like pretty boys better.” I said that because compared to the guy she was dating, Namjoon was the complete opposite. Jungkook was good looking, hence the popularity he had gained all through college. With the kind of smile that girls found cute and a pair of doe eyes that would always make it hard for my best friend to say no to. But Namjoon was tall, with broad shoulders and nice-looking hair. His sharp gaze showed just how smart he was and there was this confidence that he had that could make people look up to him in awe.

The same way I did ever since the first day I met him.

He didn’t seem to work out a lot, but his arms still looked like a tight fit beneath the sleeves of his sweater. And then there were those dimples, that would always show up each time he smiled, making people swoon for him without him trying too much.

“I still have eyes and I can still admit it when I see a handsome man,” I heard her say, before she turned to me. Sure enough, she caught me just as I was looking at Namjoon, again, more appreciatively.

“What?” I looked at her with a frown when she seemed to be looking at me too closely. “Don’t look at me like that,” I whispered at her, but then I noticed the funny looking gleam in her eyes, as if she was seeing something intriguing while looking at me. And whatever she saw seemed to please her. “As a matter of fact, why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know, I just—” She shrugged. “I’m happy whenever you are happy, Taehyung.”

Narrowing my eyes on her, I studied her face, trying to understand just where this was leading to. My suspicion was answered when I saw a hint of guilt in her eyes in place of the curiosity and mischief that she had earlier. “You’re still thinking about my stupid confession, are you?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not stupid. It never was and it never is.”

“It was childish.”

“There is nothing childish with love.”

I scoffed. “It would be when I was a 10-year-old thinking that I was falling in love with my best friend,” I told her, lowering my voice and making a sneer as I said this.

Many years ago, when I was only a 10-year-old boy trying to adjust to a new life in the big town and getting into a new school, I had jokingly asked her to be my girlfriend and she had told me no. But then we got even closer after we decided to be best friends and spent more time together, and I started to feel things. All fuzzy feelings that I had seen in the movies or TV shows as something that was called a crush, or perhaps love, where I would feel all tingly inside whenever she was near. So I asked her to be my girlfriend. Again. And then again. Having my request rejected each time because she only wanted to be my friend and she hated to think that she could lose her best friend if she should ever say yes.

That, and also because we were both kids who knew nothing about crushes and love and heartbreaks.

“Taehyung—”

Sighing dramatically, I placed a hand over my chest and acted like I was hurting and I told her, “It wasn’t your fault either that I got my heart broken so early in life. But I’ll never break my promise about staying with you as a friend and take care of you.”

My theatrics had her giggling, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I just hate that she would overthink things sometimes, even when she remembered that period in life. As if she was responsible for how I had turned out to be. It had taken her a little while to be able to cope with it. Not because she couldn’t accept me for who I was, but only because she had been terribly concerned about me after I had told her the truth.

“I know you won’t, and I promise to be in your life as your best friend for as long as you need me,” she told me, giving me a small smile which I returned with my own when I knew how true her words were. How she had proven it many times before, especially during the period of time I had needed her support the most.

I could easily recall how she had been by my side when I came out about my—’preferences’.

It all happened not too long before we graduated high school, and I was outed by force by someone who I had once grown close to, who I had trusted enough to confide in and let them know about my secrets. But then things fell south when it was clear that my ‘friend’ couldn’t stomach the idea that I was interested in both male and female, and that I had dated both all through high school. My best friend, ______, was the one who stood by me, to accept me for everything that I was and had fought together with me tooth and nail. She had opposed to the idea of me telling people about it openly, preferring that I would just stay silent until the rumours would fade so that the spotlight would not fall on me. But I could no longer hide who I was, and I had gained even more courage when Hoseok and his friends came to me with a promise to defend me if anyone would start messing with me the minute I came forward about it.

Both siblings had been my rocks, all solid and true, loyal to the core even when my own family had come close to disown me after I came to them with the truth.

Reaching over the table, she held my hands and gripped them tightly in hers. “And I’m glad you’re still here. And that you are willing enough to be so honest with me about you being—well, you. And that you are falling in love with Kim Namjoon.”

Pulling my hand from her, I rolled my eyes. “I’m not ’in love’ with him, it’s just—” I frowned, trying to figure out what I really felt. Aside from sharing a class, there was no secret that Namjoon had been terribly kind to me. He would come to talk to me after classes, and he had invited me for coffee a few times, though he had never made his intentions clear except that he wanted to get to know me better. I did feel something fuzzy in my belly when he talked to me, but I wasn’t sure if there was anything deep in what I felt for him aside from my admiration for an upperclassman and the fact that I enjoyed the attention he was giving me.

“—a crush, maybe. That’s all. And he’s nice to me.”

She raised her brows and gave me a knowing smile. “Oh, he’s ’nice’, hmm? Yeah, that’s always how it starts.”

I scoffed at her, knowing that it was also how her boyfriend managed to get under her skin. And, apparently, in a whole lot more as well, judging how crazy she was over him. But I was not about to talk about that prick. “Whatever, weirdo.”

After catching the sight of Namjoon walking out of the library with a wink at my way, we both fell into a long talk about things. We had been out of the loop with the party scene on campus, being all caught up in studying and all, but it didn’t stop us from hearing things through our classmates. Instead of comparing notes about our study session, we started comparing notes on the rumours that had been spreading around us. We were talking about her former flatmate who had begun dating a pre-med student, someone who was completely the opposite of the frat boys she had normally hung out and sometimes hooked up with, when I was reminded of something that I heard from one of her ex-flings.

“Oh, speaking about—” I lowered my voice and leaned closer, making sure that nobody would be able to listen in on us. “Have you heard the rumours that came from your boyfriend’s circle of friends?”

“What rumour?”

“A frat boy was caught kissing another dude. Nobody ever got to find out who he was or who the other boy was, since the witness only saw shadows kissing at the back of the frat house without seeing their faces. It happened in the middle of a party which they held so it could be anyone, and nobody has come clean about it yet.”

Judging by the way her lips were twitching downward, it was clear that she was not happy. And it was no doubt that she was pissed for the same reason that I was—that people were trying to prod into things that weren’t really their business. “But does it really matter who they were? They can’t exactly force someone to come out, right?”

I shrugged. “I guess not, but some people are curious, and you know about people on this campus, they all love to gossip.” Once again, her face pinched. Despite living in the flats off campus, she knew all too well about those lousy gossips. “I’m just thinking that if you or Jungkook ever find out—you guys won’t say a thing, right?”

She frowned at my request at first, but then her eyes softened. “Why would you be so worried about someone you barely know?” she asked me with the concerned tone that she always had when it came to me. “Besides, there’s nothing for you to worry about. Haven’t we both been keeping your secrets from everyone?”

“Well, yeah—that’s actually the only reason why I had to get along with him, remember?”

This time, my sneer drew a smile from her. “If he can understand your situation, wouldn’t he be more understanding when it comes to his friend?” she questioned me, though neither of us really had an answer to that question. Then, suddenly, as if she was seeing something on my face, she tilted her head and whispered, “You’re actually worried about them.”

Giving her a resigned sigh, I answered her with a nod. “I’ve been there, you know? Getting weird looks from people, girls having doubts about me actually being interested in them just because I’m also attracted to guys. I hate to imagine someone else going through something like I did. Especially if it’s someone from one of those houses, since most of them are famous for being around girls.” Looking down at my hands, I wasn’t sure if I should tell her about the things that I had been hearing. But I just couldn’t keep it to myself. “It’s just—some rumours said it was Min Yoongi with some junior TA in Music. He denied it, of course, so nobody knows.”

When I looked at her again, there was a concerned look in her eyes, something that was becoming more familiar in the years I had known her. “Do you know why I always get so worried about you?”

I had a feeling that I might know the answer to that. But I asked her anyway. “Why?”

“Because you have always had such a big heart. It might take a while for you to open up to other people, but the moment you let someone into your life, you always care for them a lot. Maybe too much. Hell, look at you worrying about some frat boy you barely know.” There was a fond smile on her face that I had no choice but to return with mine. I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying a thing and let her continue, and she took my hands in hers again. “I’m worried that someone might one day be using that kindness of yours and get you hurt. I’d really hate to see that.”

Little did she knew then, that I had been worried about the same thing for her. She had always been so fragile, so naive, and there was only one reason why I had never been able to get close to that boyfriend of hers. There was something about him that made it hard for me to trust him. Not with her heart. But I had kept it to myself, having no reason to actually point fingers. Yet. So I said nothing, and tried my best to reassure her that everything would be alright.

“I won’t worry about it, especially when I know you’ll have my back.”

She grinned. “You know I will.”

As we exchanged knowing gazes, I felt so sure that I would still have her by my side no matter what. Nothing could easily set us apart. Nothing could beat the years of friendship and trust that we had built.

At least, that was what I had truly believed.

But life had always been such a bitch. And nothing could stop it from derailing everything we had known and all that we had built together, leaving nothing behind but crumbles of dust.

—First life, year 2018—

My head was spinning. Worse yet, it felt like it was splitting in two.

Where was I? What the hell happened?”

I was pretty sure I blacked out. Or maybe I was in shock. It took a moment before everything began to clear up, though it didn’t actually make it okay when the pounding in my head stopped only to allow me to hear all the noises around me.

“Hey, buddy. Are you okay?” I felt someone gripping at my shoulder while I was stumbling out of the crowded room. I felt people’s eyes on me, but I ignored them all and turned to the person who was leading me out to a hallway right outside the room. That was when I turned and looked around, and everything sort of came back to me.

It was a frat party. I had heard that Sigma Phi was having this rave at their house and some people from my class had spotted Jungkook and his friends here. They had been sending me intel after I had spent the whole day searching for him after leaving ________’s flat.

After hearing how that bastard of a coward ran out of her place after finding out that she was pregnant.

And just like what my intel had informed me, he was hiding here with a fucking groupie who had been hanging out on Sigma to get lucky. Apparently, she lucked out to find that coward needing some distraction. But he wasn’t as lucky, as I found him easily, completely unguarded, and I managed to get a few hits to ruin his pretty face before he retaliated and knocked me on the head.

I flinched the moment I recalled the hit he gave me. It wasn’t hard, as he was pretty much drunk and my punches had probably left him disoriented, but he did put the blow at the right exact spot. And that spot was still pounding.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I grunted at my saviour. My fuzzy memory remembered his voice as the one who had stopped our fight and kicked Jungkook out of the house, and he had probably saved me from further humiliation by pulling me out of the dance floor.

“You need some ice on that. Come on, let me get you some,” he said, pulling my attention back to him just as all the party crowd went back to what they were doing before the interruption. Back to partying like drunken monkeys.

I was going to say no to his offer and leave. But it was obvious that he was not taking any kind of refusal for an answer when he simply turned away from me, already leading me towards the kitchen area at the back.

“Hey, Yoongi. Good to see you back. How was your trip?” Some guy greeted him as we passed a group of people coming down from upstairs. The man turned to me once Yoongi greeted him back with a low grunt, obviously not a man of many words. Just like what the rumours had said about him. The man who greeted Yoongi turned to me and frowned. “Damn, what happened to you?”

I winced when I reached up to touch my face, no doubt already bruising badly if everyone could already see it. “It’s nothing,” I said, and I thought I could see a bit of pity mixing with concern on Yoongi’s face when he turned to look at me.

“One of the bastards from Kappa Sigma hit him,” Yoongi explained, answering him for me. There was no doubt that he had witnessed everything that happened as he was the one who pulled us apart right after that bastard had put his fist on me, but I was glad that he wasn’t about to bring it up. Though knowing Jungkook’s reputation, pretty sure the rumours would start spreading in the morning. And I was quite sure that Jungkook must have been on his way back to her already, probably spitting out lies to protect himself. I really hoped that he would be grovelling on the ground she was standing on before she would take him back in her arms. Just the thought of them reconciling made me feel like there was a cold fist closing in around my heart. I hated knowing why he was here, hated that I had seen him and caught him red-handed. I wished I had beaten him up even worse, enough to stop him from running back to her, just like how he deserved it.

Just like how cowards like him deserved it.

“Don’t worry, man. I’m taking him back so I could put some ice on it,” I heard Yoongi’s voice talking to the other guy, snapping me back to present, and it was clear that I had missed out half of their conversation about my lousy fate. Only then did I realise that one of the girls from the group he was with was standing next to me, looking at the bruise curiously.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she said, holding back from touching my bruise and started rubbing her hand up and down my arm instead.

I forced a smile and held back another wince when the small gesture was enough to hurt. “Nothing a piece of ice couldn't fix. Though I’m sure that my pride took a lot more bruises from that,” I tried to joke, raising my hand that was clutching at my glasses, which had been broken no thanks to Jungkook’s fist. “And my glasses, apparently.”

I heard a few of the people from the group chuckling at my joke, while the girl began shaking her head while giving me a smile. I had heard things about the boys from Sigma Phi and nothing about them had ever been bad. Words spread around campus kept telling me that these boys were more decent than the boys from Jungkook’s house. Damn, even their groupies were decent girls. Just like the girl who was by my side, as I recognised her easily as someone who had frequented the library to study just as often as I usually would.

Unlike all those players in Kappa Sigma house who would rotate the girls they hooked up with according to months, sometimes weeks. Not to mention their fan club, the girls who spent nearly all their college years doing nothing but partying and hooking up with the popular kids on campus.

Why couldn’t she find someone from this house to fall for and date instead?

“Fuck, that’s messed up. Alright then, I’ll leave you to Yoongi’s capable hands. Hey, if you need a ride to the hospital or something to have some fixing, give me a holler, alright?” the guy whose name I couldn’t even remember offered me just when I was about to follow Yoongi, and all I could do was nod.

“Thanks, man,” I muttered, not sure if he could hear me through the loud music, but the girl did give me another smile and a peck on my cheek before she followed him out the back.

“Here you go,” Yoongi said to me as we sat around the kitchen counter, handing me a bag of ice that he pulled out of a beer cooler.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the bag from him and pressed it on my templed, immediately wincing at the pain. “Ow, fuck.”

He snorted at my reaction, though it didn’t exactly erase the concerned look in his eyes. “Take it easy.”

Sighing, I nodded my head stiffly and kept the ice pressed onto my face. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

He nodded and pursed his lips, looking thoughtful for a second before speaking, “You’re her friend, aren’t you? Jungkook’s girl?”

My jaw twitched. “Yeah. We’ve been friends since we were kids.”

He began shaking his head. “You know, even if I don’t know her that well. I wouldn’t have to be her childhood friend to lay one on Jungkook. I fucking hate cheaters,” he said, looking disgusted.

“Doesn’t seem like the others think the same way as you do.”

Yoongi looked down, releasing a sigh. “I really don’t understand these people. They’d rather cover up some fucker cheating behind their girls and do nothing to those who really need some real help.”

I wanted to say something about it, but I couldn’t. I wasn��t even his friend, anyway. So we only sat there in silence with the music from the party still banging in the background. He turned to grab a bottle of beer from the cooler, offering one to me, then we continued to sit there while drinking our beers in silence. The rumours that I had heard about him over the past year came back to me just as I looked at his resigned face, and the words were hanging right at the tip of my tongue. Though I wasn’t completely sure what I was going to say if I wanted to bring it up in our conversation.

Would it be proper for me to ask if those rumours were true? Only minutes after he helped me?

Just when I opened my mouth to try and speak, to talk about anything, just to break this awkwardness between us, he looked up over my shoulders and out the windows overlooking the front yard as something coming in front of the house caught his attention.

“Hey, you need a ride back or something? I’m heading out, so—”

I began considering it, not exactly sure if I was ready to part ways yet. But again, we were not friends. Just because he had saved me from being humiliated in the middle of a party and by giving me some ice, didn’t mean we became instant best friends either. “Uh, no. But thanks. I’ll find my own ride somehow.”

He nodded. “Right. Take care then.”

“You too.”

I watched him leave the room. My eyes couldn’t look away from his retreating back as he ran out of the house and off to the sidewalk, riding a black SUV that didn’t exactly fit the scene on campus. There was something inside me that kept nagging me about letting him go without saying a thing or asking for his number, but I was too tired, too sore, and completely pissed at how this night had turned out to care about making friends.

Tossing the bag of ice into the sink, I walked out of the house through the side porch where he had exited the house from earlier and pulled out my phone. My heart was beating like crazy when I dialled his number, but that immediately passed when I heard his voice from the other side of the phone call.

“Hello?”

I bit my lips. Something inside my gut was telling me that I might be doing something stupid. But right now, I really had nobody else to turn to. “Namjoon, hi. It’s me, Taehyung. I’m sorry for bothering you so late, but I think I’m going to need a ride home.”

“There’s nothing for you to apologise for. You know that I’m always here for you. I’ll be there in ten. Wait for me.”

—First life, year 2020—

How did it come to this?

Standing at the back of the seated guests while wearing a tight monkey suit, I looked around with a mixed feeling in my chest. I had thought that I wouldn’t feel much about being here, but there was a feeling of disdain as I stood there, taking in all these guests. For a wedding ceremony, there were not a lot of people who came in. Just close relatives and friends, perhaps. But even as I looked over to see her parents sitting close to my mine, reminding me how our lives had been connected for as long as we knew each other, I still felt like a complete stranger.

I had no idea how she managed to find me. After I left college early to join Namjoon’s charity mission, I never had any contact with her. The only people I had kept in touch with had been my parents, sometimes Hoseok, but I had convinced them not to tell her where I was as I moved around with Namjoon and his crew.

So when I came home to the lodge where Namjoon and I had been staying in during our trip to find him handing me the invitation, needless to say, I was completely floored. There was no reason for me to be here. I guess the only reason why I had flown across the world was only to make sure that this was really happening and not her playing a sick joke on me.

Everything around me had shown me that this was real. That she was actually getting married. And right there, standing at the end of the aisle was the man himself.

Jeon fucking Jungkook.

He was talking with his brother when I looked over at him. As if he could feel my gaze on him, he suddenly turned to see me. His eyes hardened when he recognised me, but he only nodded at me instead of looking at me with hostility before returning to his chat.

I looked away just as my Dad left his seat and walked towards me. Giving me a pat on my shoulder, he whispered to me, “Glad to see you make it here, Son.”

We chatted for a bit with him telling me that he was finally able to convince _______’s Dad to walk her down the aisle, and he left just as both her parents and mine moved towards the bride side of the seats in the front. While they were moving, stealing everyone’s attention, I slipped away towards the rooms hidden on the other side of the Wedding Hall to find the bride’s room.

It didn’t take much convincing on the bridesmaids standing guard at her door to let me in so I could see her, though it was clear to me that she had not been expecting to see me dropping by right before she was about to exchange vows.

“You came,” she said, completely stunned to see me standing there. Neither of us made a move to come closer or hug each other the way we used to, as I stood closer to the door with my hands tucked inside my pockets and her trembling hands clutching on her flower bouquet. I noticed her favourite flowers, white roses and daisies, looking just as bright and glorious as her white wedding dress looked.

When I looked at her again, there was sadness in her gaze, and a bit of hope. But I knew I crushed the latter when I said, “I only came because I had too many questions. And I suppose I needed to be here just to see that this is actually going down.”

She gave me a grim smile. “As you can see, this is happening. I’m getting married,” she said, and her voice cracked for a second before she cleared her throat to hide it. “So—what questions do you have?”

She looked up at me expectantly and all the questions that had been circling inside my head since the moment I held the invitation she sent me in my hands became all jumbled together. The only thing that came right out of my mouth was—

“Why?”

She blinked, clearly not expecting that. So I simply continued, “Why, after everything that he had put you through, would you still marry him?”

Her eyes softened, though there was a hint of doubt in them when she spoke. “He’s been with me the entire time. He has helped me heal and helped me with the grief of losing our—” She stopped before she could even try to say the word ’baby,’ obvious that she had yet to get over the grief of losing her pregnancy. The fact that she had not only forgiven him for causing the event but also for getting back together with him had been the reason why I left a couple of years ago.

I had no idea that she was still having trouble with it and that she was still grieving, all because I was not here for her. And apparently, he had been the one to fill that empty spot that I left behind on my departure.

“Why so soon? You still have yet to finish college, have you?” From the little communication I had kept with Hoseok since the day I left, I had known that she had been having trouble catching up with classes. The accident and the treatments that she had to go through made her fall back almost a year, and catching up must have been hard when most of her friends had excelled and when she was still haunted with everything that had happened, all the things she had lost, and the fact that she had to face all the people who knew about it.

Shaking her head, she began to admit the troubles she had been facing on campus, before letting me know that Jungkook had been going through the opposite. In his effort to show her that he was able to change, Jungkook had spent the past few years throwing himself into his study, making it possible for him to finish college early and for him to take a position in a company that belonged to one of his father’s business partner before he would take his place in his own family business like his brother did.

“He promised to take care of me,” she said after while smiling softly.

“And you still believe in him?”

She looked straight into my eyes and said, “I do. And he hasn’t failed me since to give me a reason not to believe in him.” I still had my doubts despite the way she seemed so sure about it, yet I said nothing, knowing that she would never listen to me anyway. Even if she would, it would only be much too late. Releasing a deep sigh, she repeated the same words she had given me then, “It’s not like it was an easy decision to make either, but—everyone deserves a second chance, Taehyung.”

’Not everyone,’ I wanted so badly to tell her, but I kept them to myself. Only because there was nothing good that could come out of it if I had said something to stop her. And judging by the looks of it, nothing could stop this from going on.

“And your parents? What did they have to say about this?”

“Obviously, neither my Dad nor Hoseok was happy about it,” she said dryly, and I remembered seeing her Dad fuming in his seat as he waited for the ceremony to begin, before my Dad seemed to be able to somehow change his mind. “But Mom had given me a chance to make the choice. Though I doubt that we’ll be invited home for the holidays as long as my Dad still refuses to give us his blessings. She could barely convince them to come. I think they only came today initially because she hasn’t been feeling well lately and both my Dad and my brother had been worried about letting her go out of the house on her own.”

I looked down and resisted the urge to shake my head. Now I understood why her parents had been sitting close to the exit, no doubt all because her Dad was so ready to walk out of the ceremony instead of staying to support her. And honestly, being away from her had yet to change what I had thought about Jungkook.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

The words that I gave her the last time we met came back to me. I still had no regrets ever voicing my thoughts and opinions about Jungkook, but I regretted that she was too stubborn to even consider taking her time before she would give him another chance and open her arms to welcome him back. And now, she was marrying him, completely tying the knot to make it last even longer. Perhaps forever.

“Taehyung?”

As I looked at her again, there was an expectation in her gaze that pulled at my heart. It was then when I realised that sending me the invitation was her act of lending me an olive branch. To give us another chance in friendship and have me back in her life again.

The same way she gave a chance to Jungkook.

But it was too late. Looking at things now, it was obvious that we were no longer walking on the same path. We had parted ways on a crossroad years ago, choosing different directions which had led us to who we were today.

Before she could say anything, I took a few steps closer to her and kissed her on the forehead. The move must have surprised her because she stiffened at my touch for a moment before relaxing against me, though I gave her no chance to dwell on it when I whispered,

“Be happy.”

Without looking back at her, I quickly left the room, leaving her behind with her own thoughts. Less than fifteen minutes later, I was right back where I was standing earlier, right at the far back in the Wedding Hall, witnessing her moody father walking her down the aisle to where Jungkook was waiting for her. Both of them shared big smiles on their faces as they were joined together at the altar, though her eyes showed sadness when she glanced back at the guests to find me, knowing that it would be the last time she would ever see me.

I stood there in silence as the ceremony continued. As they held hands, staring into each other’s eyes as they exchanged vows to be together until death would do them part. It was like adding salt to my wounds, but it was enough to make me see the reality of our relationship, that I had been replaced.

“He promised to take care of me.”

And there was really no need for me to stay, whether to prove myself wrong and watch him actually make her happy or to witness her regretting her decisions when he would hurt her again one day the way he had the last time she gave him her trust.

The moment I heard her say, “I do,” I didn’t stay long enough to wait for the ceremony to end and turned away, making my way out of the Wedding Hall and out of her life, where I was no longer needed.

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[genshin-impact-writings]

Request for your special event-

Character: Albedo

prompt: 'I love you, my little prince"

Song: Once upon a dream: Lana Del Rey

If it is possible, Can the reader be the one to say the prompt and is a fatui harbinger [or someone that the knights are just wary off] ?? (I am a sucker for forbidden love but the reader is just "screw u, Imma date them anyways) I apologize if this is too specific.

Thank You in advance and Congrats on your milestone!! <3

First of all, thank you very much for your request. I love this song and Albedo, so it really was the perfect combination. Also, this turned out a lot longer than I originally planned, and I really hope you like what I came up with. Have a good day/night and take care! <3

Once upon a dream – Albedo x gn!Fatui!reader

I know you, I’ve walked with you once upon a dream

I know you, the look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam

And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem

But if I know you, I know what you’ll do

You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream

Mondstadt was beautiful at night. Although most of the shops were already closed, the streets were still filled with people, sitting in front of the taverns where they enjoyed a few drinks and the balmy breeze that blew gently through the alleyways. Everything was peaceful and somehow quite idyllic, and you stopped in your track to take in all the impressions that rained down on you.

In your life, you had barely experienced moments like this. As a member of the Fatui, you were always on the road, traveling wherever your Archon sent you and fulfilling every mission she gave you. It was a restless life, dangerous too, but you had never been one to complain, especially since you had always dreamed about exploring Teyvat, seeing other cities and meeting new people along the way. Without the Fatui, you probably would still be stuck in Snezhnaya where you would be doing the same things every day, always wondering if this was all life had in store for you.

Needless to say that you still felt incredibly honored that the Tsaritsa had chosen you, alongside with a few other Fatui Diplomats, to accompany Signora, one of the Eleven Harbingers, on her trip to Mondstadt. So far, the trip had been everything but fun, every day filled with work and duties, including spying on the Knights of Favonius that were understandably weary of every Fatui who set foot in their city. Most of them kept their eyes on you twenty-four-seven.

Even now, during your rare free time, you could feel the guards watching you as you made your way back to the market district. A couple of people were standing outside of Cat’s Tail, laughing and joking around, just like they usually did. By now, you recognized most of them since you came by here every day. It was one of the few spots in Mondstadt where nobody payed attention to you because they were too busy with minding their own business to wonder about a Fatui Diplomat passing by, eyeing them curiously before walking on.

Your destination was the upper square, the one with the pretty fountain, right in front of Good Hunter. You had enjoyed a few meals there over the past few days (people where rightfully proud of the restaurant) but at this late hour, the shop was already closed, promotional signs neatly stored away.

You sat down on one of the benches near the fountain and crossed your legs as you let your eyes wander. During the day, this square was a popular meeting spot but now, there were only a few people here. The perfect opportunity to see him again.

During the few meetings with the Knights of Favonius you had attended, he had stayed in the background, only speaking when someone addressed him directly and even then, his answers had been quite brief. It hadn’t taken you long to figure out that he preferred to keep to himself, hence why he almost exclusively came here long after dark to inspect the Crafting Bench for any damages and to have a quick conversation with Timaeus, the alchemist who supervised the Crafting Bench throughout the day.

Usually, you kept your distance, admiring him from afar, but today, you had promised yourself to finally introduce yourself to him. Not only because it was rude to stare at someone you barely knew but also because a considerable part of you really wanted to find out who the Chief Alchemist truly was.

You didn’t have to wait long. Propping up your head on your hand, you watched him as he talked to Timaeus. His bright teal eyes almost seemed to glow in the warm light of the street lamps, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It really should be illegal to be that pretty.

About twenty minutes later, Timaeus made his farewells to the Chief Alchemist, leaving him with a bunch of notes. It took you a brief moment to realize that this was the moment you had waited for but then, you jumped to your feet and took a deep breath before walking over to him.

“Excuse me,” you said, your heart starting to beat frantically as he looked at you, a slightly confused expression on his face. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to bother you,” you continued and cleared your throat when you realized how squeaky your voice was sounding. “But I think you might have dropped this.”

You put out your hand, showing him the tiny gemstone you had bought at With wind comes glory a few hours ago. The stone’s color perfectly matched his eyes, the same bright teal that you saw in your dreams sometimes. You were absolutely sure that nobody else on this earth had eyes so pretty that you even thought about them in your sleep.

“No, I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” he replied softly, snapping you out of your thoughts. “It’s not mine.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. Well, that didn’t go as planned, you thought and let out a quiet sigh. So, what else could you say to him?

Usually, you had a quick tongue and always managed to figure out a topic to talk about but right now, you felt like every statement that came to your mind was either incredibly stupid or completely irrelevant. Think, you urged yourself, think!

But he had already lost interest in you. His attention was back on the clipboard Timaeus had handed him earlier, his brows slightly furrowed as he studied the notes from his assistant.

“So, um- can I perhaps ask you a few things about alchemy?” you asked when the silence between the two of you got uncomfortable. He didn’t look up from his notes but at least, he nodded which you took as a good sign.

“I mean, not now,” you added, painfully aware that you didn’t even know enough about alchemy to ask him a simple question. It definitely would have been better to prepare for this conversation but now it was too late to turn back. “I just – I wanted to make sure that you’re okay with helping me before I deluge you with my questions.”

Finally, he looked up, his gaze meeting yours for a brief second. “Ah, it’s you. I saw you at the meetings. You’re one of the Fatui Diplomats,” he said but unlike others, he didn’t seem to judge you. He simply stated a fact, nothing more. If anything, he sounded a bit curious.

“My name’s (Y/N),” you replied, in an almost desperate attempt to keep the conversation going because a part of you really didn’t want him to leave. When you saw the small smile that flashed over his face, you felt like your heart stopped for a second.

“I’m Albedo.”

But if I know you, I know what you’ll do

You’ll love me at once, the way you did

Once upon a dream.

That’s when it all had started. Whenever you weren’t busy with your mission or other tasks Signora assigned you to, you spent every minute with Albedo, listening to his musings about alchemy and the secrets of the world he desperately wanted to disclose. You didn’t understand half of the things he was talking about but you didn’t mind. It was enough for you to just listen to him, watching how his eyes lit up whenever he made progress in his research, and every time he sheepishly thanked you for keeping him company, you found yourself falling for him a bit more.

Of course, you knew right from the beginning that it was stupid to develop feelings for him, given the fact that you had to leave Mondstadt at some point to return back to Snezhnaya – but there was nothing you could do to stop it. Everything about Albedo was adorable. He was a gentle soul, curious and kind and so beautiful that it still took your breath away every time you look at him. And you wanted to be with him, against all reason. There was just something about him that seemed so familiar, so wonderfully familiar that you simply didn’t have the power to resist him.

And before you had even fully realized what was happening, you were already head over heels in love with him.

You didn’t tell him, at first. After all, he was still the Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favionius and you were still a member of the Fatui, someone the knights didn’t trust at all, and you didn’t want to spoil the precious time you could spend together.

But eventually, you didn’t want to keep it a secret any longer. You wanted him to know how much he really meant to you. It had been an awkward confession, your face hot from embarrassment when he didn’t respond immediately but as soon as he softly asked if it would be alright to kiss you, you fell in love with him all over again.

I know you, I’ve walked with you once upon a dream

I know you, the look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam

And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem

But, just as all good things, your relationship with Albedo came to an end about three months later when new orders from Snezhnaya arrived, recalling you and the other remaining Fatui Diplomats back to your home country immediately. Signora and the vast majority of her team had already left Mondstadt quite a while ago, and it would be a lie if you said that it hadn’t raised your hopes up that you were allowed to stay for a little longer.

Now, all your hopes were shattered to pieces. You could feel tears burning in your eyes as you stared down at the letter in your hand, reading the orders over and over again as you tried to understand that it was really over this time. There was no way you could convince your superior or even the Tsaritsa to prolong your deployment in Mondstadt.

How were you supposed to tell Albedo about this? How were you supposed to say Goodbye to him?

You should have stayed away from him right from the start. Then, you would have been the only one who got his heart broken by your new orders but no, you had decided to drag Albedo into this mess, and now you were forced to leave him.

You buried your face in your hands. This was slowly becoming just one big nightmare, one that threatened the wonderful, silly dream you had about your future. A future you wanted to share with Albedo. But of course, you couldn’t, not as long as you were a Fatui. And you couldn’t leave them either because you had sworn an oath to the Tsaritsa; you had sworn to be true to her and Snezhnaya, no matter what happened, and to break this oath had never been an option for you. Heck, you probably wouldn’t even survive betraying your Archon like that, let alone get the happy ending you wished for.

So, no matter how you put it, you had no other choice than to return to Snezhnaya.

*

You couldn’t sleep, contrary to Albedo who was sound asleep next to you, all snuggled up to you and completely unaware of the emotional rollercoaster you had been experiencing for the past few days. You had waited for the perfect moment to tell him that you had to leave but of course, it never came. There simply was no perfect moment to tell the person you loved that you couldn’t stay with them any longer, that you had no idea when you’d be able to see each other again. If you would ever see each other again.

And with that in mind, you had decided that it was for the best to just leave. Albedo would be heartbroken, yes, but he would be angry, too. And maybe that anger would be enough to make him move on from you. But for now, you wanted to enjoy the time the two of you had still left. The Fatui delegation would leave Mondstadt in the early morning, as agreed with the Acting Grandmaster, so you still had another two, maybe three hours you could spend by Albedo’s side.

You turned your head to press a soft kiss to Albedo’s cheek. He mumbled something in his sleep, and when you heard your name, your heart dropped. He was dreaming about you.

He was dreaming about you and you were about to leave him without even saying Goodbye.

*

Dawn came and with it the moment you had feared for the past few days. But you had made your decision, and it was too late to change your mind.

Carefully, you tried to pull away from Albedo who was still clinging to you, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, almost as if he had sensed that this would be the last night you would spend together. You felt terrible as you pushed his arm aside, freeing yourself from his hug, although every part of you screamed to stay here with him.

But you had to leave. And until now, everything went just as you had planned.

Until you accidentally knocked the small lamp on the bedside table over when you gathered the few belongings you hadn’t packed up yet.

Albedo stirred awake, his eyes fluttering open, confusion clouding his eyes.

“(Y/N)?” he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep. “Where are you going?”

You bit your bottom lip, trying to fight back the urge to tell him the truth, and leaned back down to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Nowhere,” you reassured him softly. “You’re just dreaming, my love. Go back to sleep.”

Your fingertips caressed his skin, gently tracing the outlines of his face as you watched him slowly drifting off to sleep again.

“I love you, my little prince,” you whispered and pressed a soft kiss to his lips one last time before you turned away and quietly left the room. Please forgive me.

The walk to the town gate gave you enough time to regain your composure. By the time you joined the others, you had carefully locked away your emotions, putting on that blank expression that didn’t show how much it hurt you to leave this city.

Lyudmila, one of the other Diplomats, gave you a brief smile. “Looks like we’re all here,” she said. “Let’s go home. We’ve spent way too much time here already.”

You nodded, although you couldn’t help but flinch at the word home. Snezhnaya would never be your home again, not when Albedo couldn’t be there with you.

Maybe one day, you thought to yourself and granted yourself one more look at Mondstadt and the town walls that almost seemed to glow in the warm light of the rising sun, we will meet again.

But if I know you, I know what you'll do You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.

[angelic-serenade]

“losing game” || fukuzawa yukichi

gif does not belong to me, nor do the anime & characters

fandom: bungou stray dogs

pairing: fukuzawa yukichi x gn!reader (1st person pov)

warnings: angst, lots of hurt and no comfort, emotional distress, barely mentioned mental instabilty, plot twist

a/n: just a little something i managed to write during the few moments of free time from uni. read as a letter to yukichi from the second paragraph onwards!! hope you enjoy, let me know if you like the new lyric-prose style i’m experimenting with!

word count: 1434

synopsis/prompt:  “a broken heart is all that's left, i'm still fixing all the cracks” ― arcade, duncan laurence

there is something noteworthy and indistinguishably patronizing which marks the mere presence of one fukuzawa yukichi – be it his wise and almost all-knowing gaze or his imposing posture, the way he manages to command respect without so much as a gesture anywhere he stands. he is authority and justice and that’s the only manner he allows himself to be, the only partial impression he allows others to make of him. sometimes i fret there really might be nothing more behind the carved, relentless shadow than the steely stares and unmovable frowns, lines so deep and intensely depicted that one might think of them as unforgiving – of what one may never know, if the unforgiveness staggers from the same place where the thoughts in his mind convince him that peace is something to be fought for but to never be attained. though sometimes the rough edges, the hollowed lines marking a tiredness which some days, some way feels all too familiar for comfort give way to a softer, unmistakably caring look; it’s almost imperceptible, the way he manages to turn the cold and unforgiving watercolors into a beautiful masterpiece, the true talent of the unrecognized artist  – his eyes lose the usually guarded edge which serves to protect everything but himself, his strained lips imperceptibly curl at the edge of a smile and the way he almost lets his shoulders abandon the weight he carries as if it were an old, battered companion brings to mind a tender sort of sympathy that sticks and can never really be forgotten – or forgiven for that matter.

akin to the flourishing of the most precious cherry blossom, you never allow for these moments to last too long, nor do they recur as often as to make those you care for expect them – in that, i think of you as more alike to the orchid than the cherry, for whenever the mysteriously grim orchid blooms, one knows not to hope for more time than its evanescent beauty can offer. cherries come to be expected, granted, but orchids never kiss and tell and you end up entangled either way. and after all, is it not the inevitable transience of things that makes them all the more desirable? if you heard me talking this way, with flowers and art and everything fulfilling in this life on my lips, singing your praises as if you were my last day of spring and sunlight, i’m sure you’d scoff the silliness away – this is your way, the way things have always been and always will be. no matter what you seldom sternly say, i’ll always be fonder of orchids than cherry blossoms anyway, for in their grave allure i found my own kind of tragic beauty.

by now i am convinced that you know and have always known exactly how much power you yield and how little you’d need to make me forget my own sadness – those moments, the careless slips of that bleeding heart of yours, are never meant for me. it pains me so to stand by your side without being able to bask in your praises, but that’s just how things are supposed to be – i am in your life, and that’s all i will ever need. sometimes you look at me as if you expect to see something - or someone – else in my place and i always end up trying to fill the void left behind by an illusion i don’t even know the name of. there is a hole that feels like an aching fever permanently carved into my soul, it spreads like an illness each and every time your voice creeps into my mind; even now i think of you and suddenly i feel much worse and better at the same time because you can never be the cure, but you sure as hell turned into my favorite medication. when i’m not by your side, in your beloved agency with your beloved family – the only ones allowed to walk alongside you into the sun - i delude myself into thinking i somehow may get over these terrible feelings that stretch my mind and hollow my heart, desperately convincing myself that time will wash away all of the promises kept in your sleeve. but sometimes, times that are just some and so unbelievably others, far in between and still so unfathomably precious to me, sometimes you let me hope and crave and i am almost convinced it could maybe be enough. the truth is that i have only ever known pain and i learned to make an addiction out of it.

once you called me by your side and i was quick to follow, as i always am because it’s you after all. under the feeble setting sun, the words spilled faultlessly from your lips, as if they had been composed to the likelihood of those poems about tragedy and grace i was stubborn enough to keep reading at night, and i stood in awe as you let me sip the most bitter of nectars, an aftertaste so haunting i knew it would forever ruin any chance of escaping this, of escaping you. welcoming the sudden flood with far more haste and yearning than i’d like to admit, you told me many things that day – about the agency, about your duty, about mine-, but you did not dare to utter my name even once, as you never did. you thanked me – me, little old, battered and faded, wide eyed and heavy-hearted me with no home to turn to and no more dreams in my closet to spare. you who had retrieved the pandora box and sealed it shut with your bare hands, you who had showed me another way, another path that nearly splintered my spirit all over again. i smiled still and for the briefest passing moment i almost hoped for you to reciprocate the minutest hint of affection; you raised your hand and rested it on my shoulder – it was warm, and it felt like water, like the purest form of unattainable salvation and i almost found myself crying in front of your unshakeable stance.

there was another time when you did gift me the smile i so desperately wished to keep for myself and i burn still, because look at what you made of me and what did you reduce my integrity to – i am neither blessing nor curse, the limbo of your love turned me into a willing martyr rejoicing the smallest act of kindness. you ruined me and i let you. i let you because a singular moment of bliss was worth the relentless tortures of your inferno.

i follow you around and keep you company still, but you never seem to acknowledge my unyielding pestering (just like before). when you let your guard down, my eyes lose themselves in yours because i can never completely understand what goes on in that obliviously rigid mind of yours – you look apathetic or sad or something that’s quite in between. oftentimes i worry for you, but you have always managed to cope and stand strong even as the tide came to wash away the last footprints of a decaying era, i believe you ought to keep doing so for another lifetime still. you have people who are dear to you as you are to them and for how much you’re unwilling to admit it, i also know that you keep a picture of me in your pocket, the one hidden on the inside of your austere kimono, somewhere between your contrite self-loathing and the lovely remnants of the day. when you think i can’t see you, i notice you make a habit of touching the spot where it’s concealed as if to remind yourself i am something right within your grasp, but that you’d never allow yourself to have. you never take me out of that pocket to properly relish the view and i will never ask you to. you grew fond of another illusion, as you’re prone to always do.

“the road to hell is paved with good intentions” i chant to myself when no one is listening, for my good intentions have only ever been inspired by you and burning and rotting in hell now barely sounds like a threat at all if i got to hear your praise just one more time.

today as you once again kneel pathetically curved upon my solitary grave, i can hear you weep yet; it’s been a while since you came to see me but finally for the first time, you call my name –

maybe you really did love me after all.

[mdelpin]

A Proper Send Off

Gratsu Week 2021 Prompt: Goodbye Pairing: Gray x Natsu

AO3

Summary: Natsu is having trouble coping with everything he learned during the Alvarez War and tries to sneak away again, but Gray isn't about to let him go alone.

They take off together and find all their friends waiting for them at the Magnolia town marker. After all, no one is allowed to leave Fairy Tail without a proper send-off.

0-0

Gray caught up to Natsu and Happy about a mile from the Magnolia town marker.

“You going somewhere, Flame Breath?”

Gray’s heart caught in his throat when Natsu refused to look at him, his eyes staying firmly on the ground.

“I tried to talk him out of it, Gray, but he wouldn’t listen.” Happy complained, “It’s just like last time.”

“Don’t worry about it, Happy, I’m not about to let him make the same mistake again.”

“I have to go.” Natsu said in a strangled voice. “Please don’t try to stop me.”

Gray wasn’t really surprised. He’d been expecting something like this for days.

Tartaros, Alvarez, Zeref, END…

Any one of these was a lot to handle, but all of them at once? It was just too much.

For both of them.

Things still hadn’t gone back to normal between them, and truth be told, Gray was still worried that Lucy’s attempt to rewrite the book of END might have changed Natsu somewhat.

But he knew that wasn’t exactly fair. It wasn’t so much that Natsu was different now; it was more that he didn’t know how to act around others.

And who could blame him? Even the people around town who had always treated Natsu as a friend had begun to treat him differently.

On top of that, after spending years searching for answers to his past, he’d certainly learned more than he’d bargained for. Who his family was, how he’d ended up with Igneel, the connection he shared with Wendy, Gajeel, Sting and Rogue as well as Lucy’s ancestor.

Even more, he’d learned what he was and the purpose he’d been meant to fulfill.

How many people had been killed or had their lives destroyed because of Zeref’s attempts to resurrect him? How did anyone live with that knowledge?

It was something Gray could easily sympathize with. After all, guilt was something he dealt with daily. For the people who had died so he could live, for not returning Juvia’s fervent affections, and for not being able to offer his father the peace he’d asked for.

And now he could add trying to kill the person he loved most and breaking a promise to the list.

Gray didn’t know how they were going to come back from any of this, but he knew that as much as he wanted to tell him he was wrong, Natsu was on to something. He needed to leave to sort through all of his doubts and fears, including this new one that he was a danger to his friends.

Zeref might be gone, but that had never stopped dark sorcerers from searching out any vestiges of his magic, and that was part of what Natsu was now.

But Gray wasn’t just about to let him do it alone.

And he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“Who said anything about stopping you?” Gray said. “I’m going with you.”

Natsu’s head jerked up and Gray pointed at the travel bag that hung on his shoulder.

“But what about Juvia?” He blurted out before adding in a softer tone, “And the others?”

“Juvia will never get over her creepy obsession if I stay, and as for the others,” he paused, because the truth is this part did make him sad. “They’ll be fine.”

The members of Fairy Tail had been his family for so long, he knew he’d miss them all terribly.

But everyone had to leave home sometime. It was part of growing up, and he truly felt that his future lay with Natsu.

He knew mending their relationship wouldn’t be easy, but it was important to him to try. Besides, he’d already discussed it with Gramps, and the old man had agreed. This was what was best for Natsu right now, and it would be much better if he didn’t go alone.

“I don’t know where I’m going.” Natsu said, looking a little embarrassed by the admission.

“I expected that from a Flame Brain like you.” Gray laughed. “That’s okay. We can figure it out on the way. I doubt it matters much, anyway.”

“Are you sure about this? It could get dangerous.”

“Standing next to you is dangerous,” Gray scoffed. “Don’t worry about me, love, I can hold my own.”

“Love?” Natsu said, sounding puzzled at hearing the familiar term of endearment. “But I thought…”

“Well, that was your first mistake,” Gray quipped, but when Natsu didn’t laugh, he gave up the pretense that everything was alright between them.

“I know I fucked up. Said and did things I didn’t mean, but that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. And I know it won’t be easy, but I want to work on us again.”

Natsu searched his eyes for the briefest of seconds, and satisfied with whatever he found in them, he began walking, pulling Gray along with him.

Happy flew around them, looking much more cheerful now that he knew Gray was joining them on their journey this time around.

They heard the commotion before they saw what it was, and Gray groaned as they got to the top of the hill, only to find Erza and just about everyone else in the guild waiting for them.

“You didn’t really think you’d be able to leave us without a proper sendoff, did you?” Erza asked, looking incredibly pleased with herself as everyone else snorted their agreement.

Yes, he’d rather hoped so. Gray hated scenes and he could already feel Natsu stiffening next to him. He shot an annoyed glare at Gramps, but the old man merely shrugged his shoulders unapologetically.

Natsu was examining the ground again, and curious what brought that about, he looked around and noticed Lucy heading towards them.

“It’s alright, Natsu. I’ll be just fine this time.” Lucy smiled. “I’m even working on a book about all of our adventures. Levy is helping me.”

Natsu looked up at that. She wrapped him up in a quick hug, and Gray backed away to give them some space.

“I-I just wanted to say thank you for everything. All the times you saved me, and all the fun we had. These last couple of years I was able to find a family again, and it was all thanks to you. I’m going to miss you. You too, Gray!”

“We saved each other,” Natsu corrected with a fond smile, even as Happy flew into Lucy’s arms and hugged her.

“Don’t let him destroy too much, Happy, okay?”

Happy nodded solemnly and gave his customary, “Aye, sir!”

Everyone jumped in with well wishes and words of encouragement until there were only a few left.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t cry,” Wendy wailed as she hugged them tightly.

“It’s okay, kiddo. You’ll see us again!” Gray assured her, hoping that he was right. He didn’t know how long this journey of theirs would take, but he hoped they could return someday.

“Try to keep your pants on,” Cana said as she hugged Gray. She whispered, “Unless you don’t have to…”

“Cana!” Gray protested as he shoved her away playfully.

“I heard that,” Natsu grumbled.

“I know,” Cana winked, capturing him in a hug as well. “Take care of each other, and say hi to my old man for me if you bump into him on the road.”

Natsu nodded.

Mira, Elfman, and Lisanna came as a group. Mira handed Natsu a bag with food.

“Here you go, I packed you both some lunch.” Mira fussed over them, “Don’t forget to eat, and write us letters from time to time to let us know how you’re doing.”

Lisanna giggled, “Like Natsu would ever forget to eat.”

She gave him a big hug, “Take care of yourselves.”

She whispered something into Natsu’s ear that Gray did not catch, but his face turned an interesting shade of red, and he shushed her.

Interesting…

Gray had little chance to think about what she might have said because Elfman enveloped them in a hug and slapped both their backs hard enough for it to hurt.

“Elfman, are you crying?” Mira asked, watching her younger brother with an amused smile.

“Crying is manly,” Elfman wiped away at his eyes.

Warren stepped forward and handed them each a mobile lacrima device. “Here, take these, in case you want to get in touch or something.”

“You don’t have to-”

Gray got no further as Warren turned away, muttering “Just take them.”

“Is he crying?” Natsu whispered, and Gray could only shrug in response.

Macao and Romeo came next, and neither made any effort to hide their tears. “Take care, you two, and try to get along, will ya?”

Romeo only stared at them and it was then Gray remembered he’d been the one who’d never given up on them all those years they’d been stuck on Tenrou.

“You’re going to have to train hard,” Natsu told him, “Cause I’m leaving you in charge of the guild while I‘m gone, okay?”

Romeo nodded, and like Wendy before him, hugged them both at once. Gray found himself petting his head, as Macao used to do to them when they were younger. It didn’t feel like it had been all that long ago, really.

“I’m not gonna say goodbye, since I plan to pop in on you now and again.” Loke gave them each a fist bump. “So make sure you have interesting stuff to tell me.”

He stepped back to stand between Cana and Lucy.

“Juvia doesn’t see why Natsu has to take Gray-sama with him,” Juvia wailed loudly to anyone who would listen.

“Try not to get too lost in that little head of yours, alright?” Gajeel slapped Natsu on the back. He shook Gray’s hand and muttered. “I’ll try to keep the crazy away as much as I can, but you guys might want to hurry the first couple of days, so there isn’t a trail for her to follow.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Gajeel waited while Pantherlily and Carla said their goodbyes to Happy.

That left only Erza and Gramps. Erza pushed Makarov’s wheelchair over to them.

“I better not hear you two are running around destroying towns and bothering people,” Erza started off sternly, but by the end of her scolding, there were tears in the corner of her eyes.

Gray could feel matching tears coming on and he could hear Natsu sniffling next to him too.

“Come here, you two,” Erza said, grabbing them both into a fierce hug. “You’ve come so far. You’re going to be just fine, I just know it. I’ll- I’ll miss you.”

They held on to her tightly, letting her cry over them. Gray had known she’d be the hardest. For as strict as she’d always been on them, they shared the most history. Not to mention she’d also been the one to force them to get past their stupid rivalry.

They finally let go of her, smiling as they wiped away their tears.

“There’s only one thing left to do.” Gramps said, and everyone lined up behind him.

“While you are leaving us, always remember that Fairy Tail will always be your home, and should you, no, when you choose to return, it will be here waiting for you.”

“Now, as you know, there are three rules that any mage who leaves Fairy Tail must abide by.

Number One - You must never reveal sensitive information about Fairy Tail to others for as long as you live.

Number Two - You must never use former contacts met through your being in the guild for personal gain.

And Number Three - Though our paths may have diverged, you must continue to live out your life with all your might. You must never consider your own life to be something insignificant, and you must never forget about your friends for as long as you live.”

Gramps looked so small in that wheelchair, fragile almost, and Gray had a passing thought that this might be the last time they got to see him. He felt his heart clench at the thought, not ready to think about losing anyone else that was important to him.

“Thanks, Gramps.” There was so much more Gray wanted to say to him, but he had a feeling the old man knew. “For everything.”

“Yeah, Gramps, thanks for taking me in.” Natsu smiled, the first genuine smile Gray had seen since the war had ended.

“The pleasure was mine,” Gramps grinned, “Well, most of the time anyway. Now, get going!”

“Take care of yourselves boys, and try not to be so reckless.”

“Bye everyone!” Natsu and Gray called out, waving to everyone before turning around and walking away.

Gray reached out for Natsu’s hand, wanting to test the waters, and was pleased to find Natsu didn’t fight him off.

Now that they were finally on their way, the wave of sadness lifted and the excitement creeped in again, and as they turned back one last time they saw everyone had lifted their hands in air making the Fairy Tail hand signal.

Even if we can't see you... no matter how far away you may be... we will always be watching you.

“We’ll be back someday,” Gray squeezed the hand he held in his.

“I hope so.”

Happy took one look at their joined hands and squeaked. “I knew it! You looooove him!”

“Do not, shut up!” Natsu yelled, pulling away from Gray and chasing after the Exceed.

“You looooove him, you looooove him!” Happy chanted, flying just out of Natsu’s reach.

Gray watched them and chuckled, glad to see Natsu acting more like himself. They had left their home behind, and it would be tough going, but in the end, he truly hoped Natsu could find the peace he was looking for, and he wanted nothing more than to share it with him.

But of course, there was nothing wrong with having a few adventures along the way!

0-0

A/N: This is immensely personal for me. Today is the last day of the last Gratsu Week hosted by @becausewhenyoupracticeyouimprove and the @gratsu-week blog on Tumblr. It was the first event I ever participated in back in 2018, and it's an event that I have helped organize for the last three years. It's very special to me.

So it is very fitting that the last ever prompt was goodbye.

More than just a story, this represents my goodbye to canon as well. I will go no further than this point.

I was one of those people who was really excited by the announcement that Fairy Tail would continue in 100 Year's Quest, because God knows I wasn't ready to let go.

But from the moment it first came out, I was horrified by what it turned out to be (a horrible story whose only purpose was to further the big 4, with even more fan service than before, and I won't even get into the character assassination). As such, I refuse to have anything to do with it. So I have ended things my way, because if the point of Fairy Tail is now ships, then I will sail with mine.

Hopefully, this will also provide some of you with the same comfort it gives me.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

🎲 🍀 WHAT’S YOUR BET? 🍀 🎲

Prompt: Y/N is lucky enough to have her man Roman at home for a few days, but she sees her luck start to change once she has a video game to overshadow and only a pair of dice as her allies.

Word count: Girl, grab a snack..Longer than it should

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, adult content, smut, cursing, masturbation(male receiving), oral sex (female receiving), thigh riding, sex dice.

My Roman’s lovers: @ziasaph, @mindofasagittaruis

Notes: It’s Roman y’all, that’s all I’m gonna say on my defense! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Ro, how long more are you gonna stay playing that damn thing?”

“Just give me 10 more minutes babe, if I drop it now, my team is gonna loose” He said with his eyes glued on the TV.

“You’ve said that 10 minutes ago!Every damn time is this bullshit. I swear to you that some day I’m gonna toss that thing on fire!”

“I love you too babygirl” He blowed me a kiss without taking his eyes off of the TV.

“Argh” I let out a frustrated groan and went up the stairs to our bedroom.

Roman was home, on one of his very rare days off, and instead of being together making up for the time he was on the road, he’s been glued on that fucking video game of his with his cousins!

Generally I don’t mind him playing that boring thing, sometimes I even encourage him to play because I know how much he likes it and it’s sort of relaxing activity for him. But damn! He’s been home for two days now and I didn’t get not even one bit of love since he got here! I’m frustrated, upset and horny which is a quite deadly combination for anyone, really.

Is it too much to ask for a day with the man that you love, who’s been on the road for 3 weeks straight, for some quality couple time ALONE? I miss my man! I miss being in his arms, I miss kissing him, I miss the make out sessions, I miss the sex (heavily), I just want some dick damn it! His dick, buried deep inside of me! Ok I over shared, but I’m an adult woman with needs and I want my boyfriend to fulfill those needs! Am I the only one who thinks I’m not asking for too much?! Usually I don’t mind taking care of business with my own hands, but he’s home now, and I don’t want the battery operated fake one if I have the real one right there, on the living room, playing video games!

As soon as I entered the bedroom, I saw a little pastel pink bag with a huge bright pink bow on the floor near the wardrobe.

*Oh Amber’s bachelorette party gift. I never got to look at what she gave us...I remember she said some of those things were old but gold..*

I sat on the bed and placed the little bag on it, I opened and started to dig into it, removing item by item.

There was penis shaped pasta “Maybe I should cook that for dinner” I laughed to myself.

Some edible panties “Damn it Amber, that’s so 80’s girl!” I chuckled.

A beautiful purple lingerie set

“Uh, those are nice! And looks expensive too” I looked at the tag and was shocked by not only the price (salty as fuck) but also to see that it’s the correct size “How on earth did she knew that?!”

Lumberjack porn, in DVD! “Yep, definitely stuck in the 80’s! Oh well, old but gold she said, she didn’t lied tho” I cackled

Strawberry and chocolate edible lube. I opened the cap, squirted some out and gave it a lick. I was actually surprised how good that actually tasted!

And last but not least the most old but gold items of all time: A Pair Of Sex Dice!

I took it out of the package and red the words. On one dice there were actions “Lick, Bite, Kiss..” and on the other one were body parts “Lips, Thigh, Neck..” on both dice however, there was a question mark, which indicated that the person could choose the action or body part.

As I hold the dice in my hand an idea roamed my head.. *Oh baby, since you like to play so much, let’s see what you will think of my little game...* I thought to myself as I made my way downstairs to the living room.

I could see that he, obviously, continued with his eyes glued on the damn TV. So I made my way towards the couch and stopped a few inches away from him.

“Roman?”

“Son of a bitch! You killed OUR guy Jay! He was on our team, you fucker!”

*Of course he didn’t listen to me* I thought

“Roman?” I almost yelled

“I’m sorry baby girl, I’m gonna wrap it up in 15 minutes, I promi- What the fuck? Pay attention man! He almost killed you!” He yelled on the headset’s microfone.

“Would you like to play a game with me?” I asked

“Sure thing baby, just let me finish this level ok?”

“But I wanted to play now..”

“Huh...Why don’t you go on and I’ll be right behind you in a second” He ferociously tapped the buttons of that cursed thing, without even once looking at me.

“Oh well since you don’t wanna play with me...I’ll find someone else to play with, I guess..” With that I threw the pair of dice at him and it landed on his face before hitting the coffee table.

“Fuck babe! Why did you do that for?” He looked down to see what I had thrown at him. “Dice? What is-“ he stopped once he saw the sayings on it and looked up with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, so I finally get you to look at me for the first time in those two days huh?” I said with a bitter tone. He chose to ignore me and asked.

“Was is this?”

“The game I wanted to play with you, but since you’re so focused on your own little game, I’ll go find someone else...who actually wants to play with me.”

I turned around and was walking towards the stairs when he said.

“Oh, I’ll be damned if you play this with someone other than me!”

I turned around just in time to see him desperately take off the headset, turn off the TV, the PlayStation and walk towards me with the dice in hand.

“So baby girl, where do you wanna play?”

“Here” I turned and made my way back to the large couch. He followed and sit down beside me.

“How you wanna do this babe?” He asked with a mischievous smirk

“We’ll take turns, each one will have 60 seconds to do the action, the first one to call for mercy loses”

“Ok, and what does the winner gets?”

“Whatever she”

“Or he” he smiled

“I wouldn’t bet that sweetheart! Whatever SHE wants”

“Are you really that certain you’re going to win kitten?”

“Absolutely!” I proudly smiled

“We’ll see about that baby girl..”

“Who should start?”

“Please baby, ladies first!”

“What a gentleman huh?!” I scoffed

Before I could throw the dice, he leaned forward and said with a deep, low voice.

“Just remember baby girl, all’s fair in love and war” he then proceeded to maliciously wink at me. And he knew the effect that had on me, the fucker was going to play dirty! Well, bring it on then!

“Oh you’re so gonna regret that Reigns!” He just lightly chuckled at me as a response.

I threw the dice on the coffee table and looked at the results.

“Kiss, Lips. Ok that’s a soft start” I said as I made my way closer to him. I kneeled on the couch, in front of him, set the timer for 60 seconds and pressed play to start the countdown. I threw my arms around his neck and gave light pecks on his lips to tease him, when his arms locked around my waist and pulled me closer to his chest I deepened the kiss, he opened his mouth so my tongue could pass through, which it happily did. He groaned into the kiss and tried to move me closer so I could straddle his hips...buzz buzz.

The timer went off and I reluctantly pulled away, returning to my previous place on the couch. When I looked at Roman he had a famished look on his face.

“Your turn Reigns”

He took the dice and toss it on the table without breaking our gaze. Once the dice fell into the table he took a peek at it and smiled amused with what he got.

“Bite, Neck. Oh baby girl, this is going to be interesting..”

*Fuck! You have got to be kidding me! As if I wasn’t sexually frustrated enough!* I thought. If there was one thing that could turn me on in mere seconds was anything neck related. Specially if Roman was the one doing it!

“Come here baby” He patted his lap

I straddle his hips, sitting on his hardening bulge. He pulled my hair to the opposite side of my neck and hold it there to keep it in place.

“Start the countdown kitten”

I pressed start and he leaned forward towards my neck. He started by lightly biting at the base of my neck and made his way torturously slow up. Once I felt his beard scratch my neck I couldn’t help but moan softly. I could feel him smile against my skin, then his biting became slightly rougher, his beard scratching harder, and successfully wetting my panties. When I thought I couldn’t take it anymore of that teasing the timer went off and he lightly pushed me out of his (now very hard) bulge.

“Are you ok baby girl? You look a little flushed over there” He chuckled

“Shut up Reigns! Two can play that game, you know that right?” I said slightly annoyed

“Oh feisty” He mocked me “Give me your best shot kitten!”

I rolled the dice.

“Uh! It looks like I’m in luck.” The dice stopped at ‘Thigh’ and a ‘question mark’.

“Let’s see what you’ve got baby” He lazily smiled

I made my way to his thigh and thought of how I could give myself some temporary relief, when an idea crossed my mind.

I sat down on his thigh, in a riding position, and pressed start on the timer. I begin to ride his thigh first at a slow pace that firmly started to increase it. The friction between his thick jean clad thigh and the thin material of my shorts and lace panties created was perfect.

I looked into his eyes and could see how he was trying to hold himself from griping my hips. I could see his jaw was clenched and he was harder than ever as his erection pressed agonizingly against the zipper of his pants. My breathing became shallowed and I managed to get at least some relief before the timer went off.

I returned to my original place on the couch looked into his eyes and asked

“Want some mercy Reigns?” I cackled

He just stared at me before saying in a frustrated voice

“You know that was a low play you just did, right?”

“What? You were the one who started this with the neck teasing. I just went with the flow, you said yourself all’s fair in love and war, I’m just following your lead.”

He tossed the dice quite furiously at the table, once he saw the outcome he couldn’t help but evilly grin at me.

“Lick, question mark. What word do you think I should put on that question mark, huh baby girl?”

“Roman, don’t you dare!”

He crawled towards me like a predator to it’s prey.

“Pull your shorts down baby” He whispered

“Roman, you’re playing dirty right now”

He reached me and whispered in a low voice.

“Take off your shorts now or I’ll have no problem in ripping them off ya.”

I lowered my shorts to my ankles, Roman then took it on his hand and toss it behind his shoulder. He grabbed my thighs and opened them so he could place himself between it, once he did, he pulled my soaked panties to the side looked up to meet my gaze before saying

“Start the countdown kitten”

I pressed start on the timer at the same time he buried his face between my thighs.

He licked non stop from my entrance to my clit, once he was satisfied with that he begin a sweet torture of licking, sucking and biting my clit, until he had me a moaning mess.

Just when I was close to my release, the timer went off.

Roman groans in frustration and reluctantly get up. He goes back to his place looks at me and say

“Mercy?”

“You wish Reigns” I rolled the dice, and saw a quite fun combination

“Touch, question mark... Oh isn’t revenge a bitch, Reigns?” I laughed

“You know that if you touch my dick I’m gonna cum in less than 60 seconds, right?”

“Well, you can hold it”

“Oh no baby I cannot! I’m so rock hard ever since you rode my thigh, and as if I wasn’t turned on already, eating you out made it even worst! I’m about to explode at any minute now! So just know that, if you touch my dick, the way you always do, I’m 100% gonna cum.”

I reached him and once again straddle his thigh, I leaned to his ear and whispered

“Start the timer big dog”

“You really gonna do this, huh?” He asked breathless

“I’ll take a lucky shot babe”

He pressed start on the timer. I pulled his zipper down and opened the button of his jeans, I reached my hand inside his boxers grabbed his delicious hard on and pulled free.

The head of his cock had a thick bead of precum and I used as lube to slowly stroke his dick. I needed him to be more slippery to stroke as I wanted to, so without thinking twice I let go of his boner and with that hand I touched my pussy to collect some of my own wetness, so I could stoke him the way he like it. Once he saw what I just did Roman groaned loud.

I removed my hand from my panties, and grabbed his cock again stroking at a slow pace but with a tight grip. The mixture of both of our wetness made it perfectly lubed up to give him a pleasurable handjob.

The timer went off and I was about to remove my hand when he barked at me

“Don’t you fucking dare to remove your hand!”

“But the time is up” I batted my lashes innocently

“I don’t give a fuck about the timer or this stupid game! I call for mercy”

My eyes widened in shock, Roman was always so incredibly competitive, he hated to lose, even at the most stupid things. So him just giving up was a sign that the man was crazily turned on.

“Really?”

“Really kitten! I don’t give a fuck if this means that you’re wining, the only thing that I want right now, is to feel your sweet pussy wrapped around my cock”

I was already so turned on from those 3 weeks build up, that I just got up from the couch to remove my panties, straddle his hips and positioned his cock at my entrance.

Roman pushed himself in quite forcefully and gave me no time to adjust to him.

He pounded merciless against me and we both filled the living room with loud raw moans.

I placed my arms around his neck and he locked my waist with his arms in a ferocious grip as we roughly kissed.

Our pleasure was so strong that I came with an almost scream and him with an inhuman growl.

As we tried to catch our breaths, he stroked from my ass cheeks to my thighs and I nuzzled against his neck, before looking up and say

“Isn’t my game way more fun than yours?”

“No doubt baby girl! I could never disagree on that!” He chuckled

“Does that mean that I can stop to dispute you with your cousins and that damn video game every time you come home?” I made a poorly job at hiding how hurt I was, so of course he noticed

“Oh kitten, I’m sorry! It was never my intention to make you feel like you have to dispute me with anything or anyone. I was so caught up on the simple pleasure of having some time off that I didn’t realize I was neglecting you baby. I love you, and you’re the most important thing in my life! I’m sorry to make you feel that way baby girl, I promise you that from now one you’ll never see me playing games when I’m home ok?”

“I don’t want you to stop playing your video games, I know how much you like it, it’s just...I don’t wanna feel like you’re eagerly coming home just to play video games all day long.. I wanted you to eagerly come home so we could be together, than after that to play your video game.”

“And that’s exactly how I feel baby! I just did a very poor job at showing to you, but”

He got up from the couch, with me still attached to his hip.

“Don’t you worry kitten, I’m about to show you just how much you mean to me”

He then made his way upstairs to our bedroom, tossed me onto the bed and said.

“Spread your legs baby girl” As he leaned his head down...

Oh boy, I could’ve never been happier to bet all my cards on those dice.

[skai6]

Hey, I saw your post asking for prompts :) I was thinking slight angst, with Jaskier trying to (not so) subtly let Geralt know of his feelings for him, but it doesn't work till Jaskier loses hope :) Happy ending, of course, cuz I have the angst endurance of a 5yo :)

Thanks for taking the time to do this :)

I didn’t know where I was going with this when I started but it checks all of the above! (Emphasis on Angst with happy ending)

------

It started with:

“You know, Geralt, I might have a thing for white hair and big swords.”

To which came the reply:

“Good for you.”

And Jaskier hasn’t stopped ever since. He would throw in a word or two at any given chance, compliment, tease, flirt, anything to get the witcher’s attention, to drill into that thick skull of his just how desperately in love Jaskier was with him. 

That, however, was easier said than done.

Two decades of trial and failure, Jaskier learned the hard way that it was perhaps not that Geralt was slow-witted, an idiot, a complete and utter fool, that on the contrary, the other might have understood the context, picked up the hints, but simply did not care enough to reciprocate. 

And oh did that realization hurt.

They spent their days on the road and Jaskier spent every second of it sulking. He was terribly mad, not at Geralt, but at himself, for being so blinded by the promise of hope that he did not see reason for the past twenty fucking years. Gods, if anyone was a fool out of the two, it had to be him.

Give it another decade or two, he told himself sarcastically, I’ll eventually get over the biggest rip-off of a fucking lifetime.

And when Jaskier was mad, he did not hesitate to burst out at every given chance. So, one evening, when Geralt returned from a hunt two hours later than planned, he found Jaskier at the inn’s rented chamber, waiting for him. Jaskier could smell it a mile away, the outrageous mixture of liquor and perfume, and that was it. The perfect opportunity - his chance to let out some steam. 

After twenty fucking years, he deserved it.

“Where in the gods have you been?” he yelled, standing with his hands on his hips, as if he had been waiting in that same posture for hours, boiling with the urgent need to start a fight. 

Geralt didn’t flinch at his tone. He clicked the door shut behind and began tiredly uncluttering his armour. 

“Beast’s taken longer to slay.”

And if Jaskier was not angry enough before, the lie did the rest of the work.

“Do I look like an idiot?” he scoffed, “No, really, do I?”

Geralt threw a skeptical gaze his way, said nothing, then returned to rearrange his armour on the dresser and marched to the bed to begin undoing his boots. 

Jaskier stamped after him.

“I’m talking to you, sir!” he yelled, “You can’t just leave me here and come back whenever you please! If you’re taking longer out there you ought to let me know! What am I? Your fucking wife?” 

Geralt grunted, and to Jaskier’s horror, he sounded amused.

“You find this funny? How dare you!” he spat, “And look at me when I’m talking to you!”

On the bed, Geralt kicked off his boots with a sigh and, at last, fixed his golden gaze on him. Calm and collected. To Jaskier - unbelievably infuriating.  

“What’s with you?” he said, “Got a horse’s hoof up your arse? Calm down.”

Jaskier’s anger only spiked.

“Calm down?” His voice raised an octave, and he threw his head back to force out an exaggerated laugh. “Oh dear, oh yes, but of course! How come I haven’t thought of it? The cure to all of my misfortune! Calming the fuck down! He goes out there doing gods know what, never telling me when he returns and I have to remain prettily seated like some fucking ornament, waiting for him. Listen here, you bastard. If there is one person in this room with a horse’s hoof up their arse, that’s you. And that whore of yours you’ve been fucking all night? My condolences to her expectations. She could do so much better than a butcher.”

And that last sentence, like a trigger, kicked Geralt off the bed and standing in an instant. Jaskier physically jolted in his skin when the other walked to him, jaw tight, glare burning with something that was a mixture of anger and hurt.

“Watch your mouth.”

Jaskier’s breath hitched, and the fool, the hopelessly, madly in love fool that he was, couldn’t help himself from answering.

“Or what? You’ll shut me up yourself?”

An irritated grunt. 

“I might.”

The room plunged into heavy, stifling silence. Jaskier could hear his heartbeats resonate in his ears. His anger was not as strong anymore, not when despair and ache and hurt came taking turns inside his heart. He felt his stomach turn. He felt he could cry.

On the outside, he showed none of it. His eyebrows furrowed, his lips curved into an insulting smirk.

“You witchers are all bark and no bite.”

And that was about what has done it.

Jaskier could not tell apart the second in which Geralt’s leg moved and the one in which his back was flattered against the nearest wall. His body kicked out a rush of adrenaline that forced him to send a whimper out in the open. Geralt picked up on his fear, his flaring eyes narrowed, his nose twitched. He was smelling him.

“You’re jealous.”

“Like fuck I a- Mm!”

A rough palm came pressing to his mouth, forcibly shutting him up. Geralt’s eyebrows furrowed. He was not done talking.

“I’ve been picking up hints for a while,” he said, “Racing heartbeats for no fucking reason. Long annoying stares. Whining under the sheets with my name on your lips. I just don’t fucking get it. Why? What are you jealous of?”

Jaskier’s eyes narrowed and he bit the skin that came muffling him. Geralt hissed and pulled away.

“You knew?”

Geralt swallowed.

“I... wasn’t sure what to know.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he barked, tears starting to swarm his eyes, “Geralt, I’ve been pining for you for decades and you knew? And you - and you did fucking nothing?”

Geralt’s hold of him loosened and Jaskier took his chance to grip him by the collar of his unlaced tunic and flip them over. To his surprise, Geralt followed willingly, letting himself get overpowered, and landed with his back to the wall, his eyes darting elsewhere, looking as guilty as they came.

“Look at me,” said Jaskier, “Gods fucking dammit, look at me, Geralt!”

Slow, unsure, amber eyes returned to him.

“Why did you never say anything?” Jaskier’s voice broke, and one tear trailed down his left eye. “All these fucking years. You saw me, like a lovestruck fool, looking at you like you’re the sun and the moon and everything beyond and you did nothing. Why? Just tell me, why?”

Geralt’s adam’s apple bobbed. He gritted his teeth in stubborn hesitance until Jaskier’s eyes fell down, and his grip on his collar began to loosen. That was when he came gripping his wrist, holding it where it was, against his chest. With a broken look of feeble hope, Jaskier lifted up his gaze at him.

“Do I ...” His voice broke. “Do I even matter to you?”

“You do.” 

"Don’t just say what I want to -”

“You matter, and that’s why. That’s fucking why.”

Jaskier didn’t know what to say to that, and Geralt continued.

“How do you think twenty years by your side felt like? Twenty years watching you live, age, grow. There’s only so much time can give. Until it rips it all away.”

Jaskier’s tears ceased. His eyes now bearing confusion and worry.

“I can’t have you,” said Geralt, voice tight, lip trembling. “Not when I know someday, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next year, but someday, I will have to let you go.”

And at those words, Jaskier, not knowing what got into him, burst into laughter. 

Under Geralt’s wary stare, he laughed loudly, whole-heartedly, until he could no longer contain it, until his cheeks hurt from the pain, and he had to cling into the other’s body for balance. Until the tears of sadness were completely replaced by tears of happiness.

Happiness to know that his feelings were not unrequited. 

“Jaskier...”

“Geralt, you fool.”

He didn’t need to speak the words he meant to convey. He completely and utterly gave in, right then and there, cupped the other’s face and kissed him. His lips tasted of cheap wine and hidden desires. It felt like bringing life back into a body that had long been depraved. He had watched the witcher kiss many women, and never, never had he groaned so desperately, so sweetly before in his life.

And Jaskier wanted to believe it was true, all of it.

"You’re afraid I’ll die?” he mouthed shortly after pulling back, the scent of the other already clinging to his nostrils, something that was pure Geralt, something that reminded him of his own fearlessness. “Afraid I’ll leave you alone? Well, fucking hell, Geralt, we’re all dying. We’re all deteriorating, day after day, waiting for that sweet death to take us. And so what do we do? What do we make of the life we are given? We cry, moan, complain. We never live. We never live, Geralt. I might die before you, but for gods’ love I want to die a fulfilled man. I want to have kissed and loved and fucked the one I love to my heart’s content before I get to lay in my death’s bed satisfied and happy. That’s life, Geralt. That’s it. You either live it, or you die trying. And I want to try.”

He placed a soft kiss on Geralt’s bottom lip and whispered:

“With you.”

He couldn’t witness the expression on his face after that. He was taken by arms so strong he thought he could suffocate. Jaskier loved every bit of that sweet suffocation. So tight was his hold and so everlasting he thought time was barely floating by. Until it eventually loosened and calloused fingers came grazing his cheek. 

“I want to try, too,” he said, “I want you, Jaskier. Always have.”

The look he bore, so vulnerable, so true, so bare, had Jaskier understand. He still was uncertain, still hesitant, still unsure. 

And perhaps it would take another decade for him to be convinced that love was timeless, that it didn’t matter if death took one of them away after they have loved each other so strongly and dearly and passionately. 

But Jaskier was patient. And he would wait an eternity if it meant Geralt would finally let himself be loved.

[msroussane]

TVXQ (Jung Yunho/ Shim Changmin)

They're my first otp. Because of their fics, I started to discover the wonder of fanfiction. I'm no longer shipping them because Changmin just got married recently (obviously), but I still hold some of the best works dearly.

212 Notification by WennyT, whatkindoftea (haeli)

Rating: T

Words: 14,484

Tags: Music Store AU, Coffee Shop AU

Summary:

Yunho has a thing for trashy pop music, misunderstood people, and dogs. Changmin is a typical snob who likes wailing German arias, complicated coffee orders, and dogs. They meet online, where Changmin is so much less of an asshole. The question is - can this relationship survive Real Life?

A You’ve Got Mail AU.

Your Bet's as Good as Mine by humanitys_cutest

Rating: E

Words: 82,037

Tags: College/ University AU

Summary:

Changmin has heard a lot about Jung Yunho. A lot of not-so-good things. But when Yunho walks into his father's convenience store late one night, Changmin is unprepared for the events that follow, and his feelings that quickly spiral out of control. The only question is, does Yunho feel the same?

Incandescent by madamteatime

Rating: E

Words: 17,559

Tags: Historical Fantasy AU, Mpreg

Summary:

The sun lord marries a prince of the moon

Diamond in the Dirt by madamteatime

Rating: E

Words: 13,237

Tags: ABO Dynamic, Mpreg, Miscarriage

Summary:

Ten years of choosing friendship over the road less travelled and it took a wolf to break him

Lush Mistake by madamteatime

Rating: E

Words: 3,262

Tags: Fluff

Summary:

Prompt: “I sent a selfie of myself in the tub to the wrong number and u responded back with another selfie. Holy shit ur really attractive.”

Rules of Court...ship by Cease

Rating: G

Words: 4,081

Tags: Lawfirm AU

Summary:

Jung Yunho, youngest Senior Associate in the firm, passionate advocate, is sipping on his morning coffee, leaning against the wall of the elevator when a tall, handsome young man stumbles in, crashes into him, and spills his coffee all over his Armani suit.

0-60 in 3.5 by glitterburn

Rating: E

Words: 8,793

Tags: Modern Setting AU

Summary:

Changmin's car breaks down. Yunho fixes it. For a price.

Personal Note:

There is a reason why glitterburn was called glitterburnsus by homin shippers. She never failed to deliver a masterpiece.

Driving With The Breaks On by glitterburn

Rating: E

Words: 58,159

Tags: Modern Setting AU

Summary:

The mechanic and the academic. Long-distance relationship. Sceptical friends. This really shouldn’t work, but Yunho is determined that it will. Now he just has to convince Changmin that they can have forever. [Sequel to 0-60 in 3.5.]

Thrice Phased by dentedsky

Rating: E

Words: 33,853

Tags: Androids AU, Apocalypse AU

Summary:

Changmin gets himself an android boyfriend to fulfil his wildest fantasies. But there is far more to Yunho than Changmin had expected. Insidious plans emerge and timid voices whisper on the network. Can a human and an android truly love one another?

Personal Note:

One of the best angst fics I've ever read. It left me speechless in the end.

How to Display Your Love by humanitys_cutest

Rating: E

Words: 6.456

Tags: Non Famous AU

Summary:

Yunho won’t be home for Christmas. Or, so Changmin thinks.

Heaven Will Know by madamteatime

Rating: E

Words: 12,380

Tags: Angel and Assassin AU

Summary:

Changmin is a fallen angel looking for a way back into heaven. Yunho is a highly trained assassin, ruthless, elite, and solitary until Changmin finds him and turns his life upside down.

The Pick-Up by glitterburn

Rating: E

Words: 9,541

Tags: Fashion and Model AU

Summary:

This morning, supermodel Changmin’s biggest problem was running out of cigarettes. His day is about to get worse as a case of mistaken identity sends him into the line of fire—and into the arms of cop/spy/government agent/he’s-a-bit-vague-about-it-really Yunho, who would rather be saving the world than babysitting Changmin’s ass. Never mind that it’s a really cute ass. It’s not like Yunho has even noticed, right?

Personal note:

If I'm not mistaken, it's the first homin fic I read and I was completely in love with this pairing. And yes, another masterpiece from glitterburnsus

Servant of the Sun by glitterburn

Rating: T

Words: 2,892

Tags: Historical AU

Summary:

Fourteenth Prince Changmin is sent to serve as an attendant at the shrine of the Sun. He must remain pure and chaste for a full year. He didn’t expect to fall in love.

Snow Angels by madamteatime

Rating: G

Words: 6,887

Tags: Accidental baby acquisition

Summary:

Yunho wakes up one day to find a baby on their doorstep.

Kids and Ice Cream by Amagiri

Rating: G

Words: 5,876

Tags: Family AU

Summary:

Yunho is raising his adopted son as a single parent when Changmin, his son's birth father, unexpectedly appears in his life in need of reassurance.

You're My Choux Creme, I'm Your Hero by Lunnashh

Rating: T

Words: 4,307

Tags: Youtuber AU

Summary:

It was more of a coincidence, really, a moment of boredom that had caused Yunho to click on one 'Choux à la crème with chocolate ganache' step-by-step video.

Or: In which Yunho and Changmin are YouTube boyfranz

Perfect Fit by glitterburn

Rating: E

Words: 32,316

Tags: Fashion & Models AU

Summary:

Changmin studied fashion at St Martin’s and interned at Chanel. Yunho is a Gwangju market trader who makes illegal knock-offs. They’re two of the contestants on top reality TV show Stitched Up. Tempers fray, things come apart at the seams, but somehow they Make It Work.

Personal Note:

BEST HOMIN FIC EVER!! It's where the famous Posh Boy and Gwangju Skank meme came from.

Silence and Sound by Changdori (janie6789)

Rating: T

Words: 11,996

Tags: Canon

Summary:

Changmin is slowly losing his hearing. Yunho is there to help him through it -- but how he can help his bandmate through something like this, he isn't sure.

[aerialsquid]

Lupin Doctober #10

A series of 50-500 word pieces based on the Lupin Doctober prompts from Tsushi. Mostly gen, some shipping. The whole set will be linked off my AO3.

--

Zenigata’s new assignment

[Scene opens on the inside of the back seat of a police car. Outside the window there is a lush forest and rolling hills of some European countryside. The camera turns to show the back of the driver's head. The man is sitting up straight and proud, nearly whistling, and the rear view mirror shows a snippet of dark hair and long-lashed giddy eyes. Camera pans to the passenger seat, where the show host in a flowered shirt and fedora is turned halfway around to talk to the camera.]

HOST: Welcome back to 'The Weirdest Jobs', I'm your host Adrienne Perez, and we got Carlos Jimenez behind the camera. After spending the last week following around Inspector Koichi Zenigata of ICPO, we not only got to see the man himself in action, but witnessed an actual capture of one of ICPO's most wanted criminals. I cannot believe it. It seems like it's everyone's lucky day today.

CARLOS, UNSEEN: Well, except his.

[Camera pans to the seat next to the camera-holder, where a lanky man in a red blazer and yellow tie is sitting in handcuffs. His feet are also cuffed, and both are chained together. He's got a frown on his face but it's just a little too deep to be genuine. Camera turns, catching sight of Zenigata's fierce grin in the rear view mirror.]

HOST: How do you feel, Inspector?

ZENIGATA: Oh, capturing Lupin's always the greatest moment of my day. You know, I've been chasing him for longer than I can remember-

[The camera pans back to Lupin every so often as the host and Zenigata talk. At first Lupin just rolls his eyes and the camera focuses primarily on Zenigata. Then the cameraman starts to notice Lupin fidgeting, and stays focused on him. Lupin puts a finger to his lips with hands that noticeably lack the handcuffs, grinning wildly. He hands a small folded up piece of paper to the cameraman, who reads it off-camera. The camera bobs a little as the message is agreed to.]

ZENIGATA: I feel like it's really fulfilling my family heritage to help someone like this find justice and be rehabilitated into--

[Whatever he's going to say next is cut off as Lupin pops open the car door, tosses off a salute, and rolls out into the bushes next to the road. Zenigata roars to a stop but Lupin's already tearing off into the woods. Zenigata tries to jump the curb and follow but the trees are too thick, and he winds up having to burst out and chase after him on foot. The camera and host try to follow but quickly lose them in the dense forest.]

ADRIENNE: (panting) Well...shit…so much for that victory. Why the hell'd you just let him walk off, Carlos?

[Carlos hands over the paper silently. Adrienne takes and reads it, the scowl turning into a smirk.]

ADRIENNE: Well. Join us next month on The Weirdest Jobs, where we'll be profiling a former mob bodyguard, a modern day samurai, a professional thief, and a career--oh, I can't say that on air, um--career golddigger.

[burkymakar]

#1 Fluff with Nathan McKinnon?

Prompt: “Is that my shirt?” “You mean our shirt?”

You were used to a lot of the weirder aspects of dating a professional hockey player. The weird hours, going to games, getting recognized, the crazy eating habits.

But you could never quite get used to when he was gone on long road trips.

So you coped how you could. Watching all the games to catch glimpes of him, texting, and facetimes helped but they weren’t the same.

Without telling him, you started to wear his shirts. They were very comfy and soft, because he always sprung for the better laundry service. Plus, they smelled like him: his deodorant and soap and ice somehow. 

You wore them around your apartment, walking Cox your dog, getting groceries, going to sleep. And you always just snuck them back into his laundry bag when he returned.

You weren’t exactly sure why you didn’t just tell him. He liked it when you wore his jersey, so he had no problem with you in his clothes. But maybe it was about the intimacy of fulfilling the void left of him. Or maybe it was fear that you missed him more than he missed you. 

But then you were Facetiming him on your phone, he’s in a hotel in Arizona chilling shirtless, and you drop your phone. 

As you pick it back up, he cocks his head, “Are you wearing my shirt?” 

Your cheeks warm in embarrassment and you immediately say, “You mean our shirt?”

He giggles a little, “Y/N, are you really?”

With a slight sigh, you pan down your body in the shirt. “Yep, I miss you and this helps.”

“Aww,” He says, and you almost think he’s joking but he looks kind of giddy. “You miss me that much?”

“No, I just like your style,” Your cheeks still burn.

“Sure, Y/N,” He rolls his eyes but he’s still grinning. “Well, I miss you too.”

Now it’s your turn to beam. “Oh really?”

“Yep, I kept stealing your candies,” He says, and you gasp.

“No way!” You loved little hard candies like jolly ranchers, and you constantly kept a supply in your apartment with Nate. He never had any with you, saying they were yours and not on the meal plan. 

“They taste like you,” He shrugs. “So I have one to remember.”

“You’re cute,” You smile at him. “Look at us, a bunch of saps.”

“I’ll be home soon,” Nate reassures you. 

“Have a candy for me,”

“You can wear my shirts more often you know,” He says, gaze turning almost lustful in the shitty hotel lighting. “They look real good.”

Not one to back down from a challenge, you wink at him, “I look better with them off.”

“Damn right, babe,” He says. “Miss you.”

“Miss you too. Taste you later,” You say, hanging up on him mid-choking laugh.

It was always fun to get the last word.