#i got tired towards the end. i really hope tumblr does not eat this one or i'll die

[hesperidia]

1 21

Ask game ✩

Thanks for the ask! this was on the inbox for a while, bc i wanted to make a proper answer. sorry it got too long...

21- Something you’ve kept since childhood?:

Fairytale books!! One of my most prized possessions is a book that's like a "bestiary" for kids, with watercolor illustrations of creatures and fairies and little descriptions of each.

Two of my childhood plushies! One of them is going to be 24 years old soon. At this point that lion plushie is going to be forever with me, I'll be buried with it.

A (knockoff but still very cute) hello kitty blanket i've had since i was six <3

1- who is/are your comfort character(s)?: Okay this question goes under a read more because, it got too extensive

If you pay attention to this blog, you'll see i never shut up about Bungo Stray Dogs Ryuunosuke Akutagawa. But he isn't my comfort character (he gives me pain most of the time /hj) in fact, my comfort chara is Beast! Akutagawa:

He's the same character, but from the alternate universe presented in the bsd Beast light novel/manga adaptation. Basically, Akutagawa if he never got recruited into the mafia. I'd yap more about him but i already made a post however, i'll explain why he is here:

When i first read the main manga, i didn't care a lot about Akutagawa, it was until i read the Beast manga i started to open myself up, and there's something about him, about the fact that it doesn't matter how ugly of a person you are, how much self loathing you harbor for yourself, still there will be opportunities for you to be better, make better choices, have people who will support you in that difficult path. And, in turn, you can become that person for others (like beast Aku did with Atsushi).

I'm not going to lie, reading this manga threw me into turmoil more than once. There was a fair deal of projection as i read about Akutagawa's struggles, and his character development felt like a blow to the heart to me.

Plus, he has his fair share of silly moments, and takes his roasted tea with four sugar cubes iirc. Sweet tooth counter: 1

Also, from bsd, Ranpo Edogawa:

Okay so, I've a soft spot for characters who are childish, and look at the world from an unique perspective. Ranpo was actually the very first bsd chara i got attached to, and i liked him because he was a brat. At first he was a little shit, the worst coworker you could ask for (love it. v/ realistic) but the more you see of him, you'll notice how he can put aside his apparent selfishness and get serious.

When watching the anime adaptation of The Untold Origins of the Detective Agency light novel (the one where they show his backstory) i could not help but hardcore emphatize with him (and also project, recurring theme with all these charas 😅)

You have a kid who lost his family, got shunned by every adult he turned to for being too smart and too sincere, who met at the right time with a person who not only didn't dismiss him, but appreciated his insights, and Ranpo got too attached because someone was actually making the effort to understand him. That person would become his family later. Again, finding a place to belong and people who would accept you, and in turn giving that kindness to others (wow it's like this is one of the core themes of the manga. the sky is blue, water feels wet).

Looking back to Yosano's backstory, and the kind words (KIND WORDS!! RANPO? KIND? yes very real and true) he gave to her. The fact he went out of his way to retrieve her butterfly brooch. It's these little moments that make me appreciate Ranpo the most. That, and the fact that he puts aside all his pride when it comes to admit he fucks up. He might look conceited, but he really isn't...

Plus, he's loud, and silly, and scattered, and has a sweet tooth. (Sweet tooth counter: 2). Likes animals. He even can't use public transport properly at 26 y/o. Just like me fr...

Next a character i don't get to talk about a lot but she was the VERY FIRST character that i said ohhhh my god. I love you. You are me. What the hell... Annette Fantine Dominic from Fire Emblem Three Houses/Three Hopes:

Annette is super important to me. She's a person who is smart, but as a result of a continuous effort (she's a very good student, hardworking and diligent). And she kind of reminds me of myself when i was on hs. This doesn't mean she resents naturally talented ppl (her support conversations with Sylvain, another chara from the game, are some of the BEST in three houses).

Still, she feels the need to overachieve and overcompensate because her father, who's a knight, left her family when she was young so he could fulfil his duty to the kingdom and completely ignores the fact he has a daughter to take care of. Annette, kind of thinks that if she doesn't strive for perfection, people around her would leave like her dad did.

And she's always cheery, and puts up a smile, and tends to not recognize her talents (ex. she likes to sing about silly stuff, and does it really well, other charas point it out and Annie does not believe them at first, she tends to hold herself down). I'd talk more about her but it's been a while since i revisited fe3h...

Other things i like about her: She's 150cm tall and her personal weapon is a big ass magical hammer made of dragon bones called "Crusher". The first time she fights/defeats/kills someone in the game she asks her professor if she did okay. Likes cooking but ends up setting everything on fire (just like me... fr....) AND also has a sweet tooth (sweet tooth counter: 3)

Recently i got very. Very into Ensemble Stars, and a big part of it is these two (i talk less than i want to about them bc i still don't have all the facts, haven't read all their stories. But the fact they became SO important to me in such little time needs to be scientifically studied):

Mika Kagehira:

Mika is like crack cocaine for my brain. I got attached to him at first because 1- He was the very second card i got in the game and it made me curious. 2- His singing voice is so angelic (i know it doesn't have anything to do with the actual character, but there's something about Mika, who is very unkempt at times, struggles to take care of himself, actually having very clean vocals while performing. just a thought).

He's childish, and a lil (if you squint) obsessive, struggles with humanity (has a whole issue about being doll-like that he's trying to leave behind now) shy but will NOT hesitate to fight people. What i like about him the most, is his empathy. He stood beside his mentor/friend/obsessive crush???? when he had a breakdown and helped him get back up... A lot of times he shows concern for other characters and is up to giving good advice (Kohaku in tale of antiques comes to mind, and Midori in the Doll House scout story too).

(BY THE WAY, said mentor also constantly helps Mika when he's struggling and their relationship becomes healthier with time.. i am starting to think... there's a pattern here in what themes i tend to get attached to)

What else. His awful (affectionate) fashion sense. The fact he scavenges and repairs broken objects and plushies. He's an emo guy who has a card where he has blood on his hands and looks ecstatic about it. The chainsaw CG. The fact that he can't express his thoughts properly sometimes and getting misunderstood gets him down (ouch that happens to me) His favorite food is candy. Sweet tooth counter: 4

Last but not least, Leo Tsukinaga:

LEO i did not expect him to make it to my favs at first but he IS my favorite ensemble stars character ever on account of how many times i've screenshotted things he said. He reminds me of Ranpo a little bit personality wise, and the fact they're both geniuses. (who have struggled badly because of it). That and, being the ultimate sillies. (I've said it before, all my favs have to be a lil cringefail)

He always expects the best of ppl and the world around him, and that's his biggest weakness, that naiveté. After reading Checkmate i got genuinely sad for him, and the stories i read where ppl kept taking advantage of him made me angry (?) I find his general whimsy and unpredictableness(?) very endearing. He once said he hated Mozart and irl Mozart was also a very whimsical unserious person. (I wonder if they got compared alot and Leo grew tired of it).

Again it doesn't seem like so at first, but he cares SO MUCH about his friends. Izumi and Madara come to mind first. And even though he's a scatterbrain and has said, multiple times, that explaining himself is hard and that's why he prefers the language of music (one everyone can understand) i still remember his lines to Kohaku in sudden death, where he thanked him for being by Madara's side. I absolutely did not expect that. And i feel i've to mention this one line from night patrollers:

which i'll include because. because... i'm a broken record atp but the reciprocal support between people... augh (this screenshot is saved as "leo i love you" on my laptop... yeah)

Something i found in common between both mika and leo and probably Annette too is that they often refer to themselves as dumb??? but they ARE NOT they are really perceptive... i am hugging them both as i write this.

I couldn't recall if Leo likes sweet things. The sweet tooth total is 4. What else, he once got hipnotized into behaving like a cat but it was almost unnoticeable because he already acts like one. broke into his artistic rival's atelier in Paris just because he liked hanging out in there (iirc), does not take criticisms to his music/art very well (understandable 100%), goes from zero to 100 in 2 seconds. Dislikes sex jokes (ace king???) i <3 him.

There's so much i want to say about all of them but i can't. I'm insanely bad with words but i don't get to talk alot about these charas (the self consciousness eats me alive) and this was the perfect opportunity<3 Anywayyyy if you look for a pattern in here you'll sure find it

Honorary mentions for: Rei Sakuma and Kohaku Oukawa (enstars), Merrill (dragon age 2), Shinobu Kocho (kny), Lyon (fire emblem sacred stones) and Eliwood (fire emblem blazing blade). I would KEEP talking about them all but i am... eepy and this got insanely long sorry anon

[thesunicarusfellfor]

hello!!can you do a part two of your Yandere!Tommy x Reader x Yandere!Tubbo Headcanons/Fic ?! i loved it!!

It amazes me how this became a fan favourite OVERNIGHT like daaaaamn!

This one is gonna be split into parts around the end, so like what happens if you choose Tubbo/Tommy/Neither/Both

(f/l) = first letter of your name

(N/n) = nickname

(f/f) = Favourite flowers

Eggpire does not exist

ALSO. The last Route (Neither) I wrote is shorter because apparently, Tumblr wants to crash after you surpass 10k words, but I could write a continuation fic of Neither that might turn into another x reader? Just platonic? Not sure. Remember, I will always write a continuation of a fic if ever asked.

TW: Yandere, Explosions, Burns, Scars, Manipulation, Mention of Painkillers and being drowsy on them, brief mention of collapsing

Part one

Yandere!Tommy x GN!Reader x Yandere!Tubbo Headcanon/Fic Part 2

Tommy was furious to see you spending time with anyone that wasn’t him.

But seeing you having an early morning coffee with Ranboo??? Tubbo’s husband???

He was about to light the damn house on fire he was so pissed! That’s not even exaggerating, he would’ve and had you live with him! Although he wouldn’t let you know he did it.

Poor Ranboo was trembling so bad, genuinely fearing for his canon lives.

You quickly got up and stood in Tommy’s sight, prevent him from glaring at your tall friend, although he still didn’t look happy.

Before anyone could say anything else, Tubbo stormed through the door with his sword in his hand and teeth violently grit together.

“So... You weren’t trying to throw me off by writing about going to see them in your memory book,” Tubbo growled softly at his husband causing Ranboo to desperately pull his memory book closer to his chest, tears brimming his eyes. You could understand why, his best friend went through his memory book without his knowledge and possibly went through his other things in an attempt to figure out what he was doing.

“I guess neither of you are loyal...” Tommy grumbled with a roll of his eyes, causing Tubbo to give him a hard jab in the ribs, “Ow! Bloody hell, mate! I’m just saying both of you are going for them without even breaking up first!”

“It’s platonic!” Both Tubbo and Ranboo stated although Ranboo’s voice came out as a tiny and meek protest, rather than Tubbo’s annoyed growl. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Ranboo put his crown back on his head, “I’m-I’m not interested in chasing them, so no... I was just talking to them...” He visibly shrank in on himself as the two boys glared darkly at him, “I... Should go...”

“Hold up.” You pointed at him, making the tall and lanky male stay seated in his spot while you turned back to Tubbo and Tommy, “I know why Ranboo is here. I know why he,” You pointed to Tommy, “Is here. He always kicks down my door early in the morning to do some crazy things. But why are you here?” Moving your finger to point at Tubbo, you noticed his look immediately softened upon you turning your attention towards him.

His cheeks became a light pink and his goat ears fluttered slightly as he put his sword away, “Am I not allowed to visit?” There. There was one of the mood switches and manipulation Ranboo warned you about. “Tommy invited me to L’Manberg, and I heard my beloved platonic husband was in the area as well. Plus Tommy left the door open.”

You blinked a bit, caught off guard by the fact that Tubbo completely brushed over the fact that he was here because he had read Ranboo’s memory book, “Oh, I see... Then shall we all go mining today? We’d be able to get a lot more ores than before!” You smiled, pretending that your two friends didn’t kick down your door and threaten the man who was just trying to protect you.

“With Tubbo and Ranboo?” Tommy growled out in disgust at the thought of you spending time with them, “But (Y/n)! We always go mining on Thursday mornings! It’s our thing. Between just US! Aka, not Tubbo and Ranboo...”

“I- uh, have a meeting with Techno and Phil later today, so I can’t go. Sorry, (Y/n)...” Ranboo murmured, although you could tell by the shakiness of his voice that he wanted nothing more than to run and hide in his panic room.

“I’d love to go!” Tubbo chirped softly, ignoring the audible noise of disgust and annoyance that Tommy made, “Let me just get my stuff from my enderchest.” He walked over to your enderchest and opened it. You didn’t mind too much as you gave everyone full permission to make themselves at home in your house, but you were just a bit shaken up at the moment.

Ranboo quickly got up and scurried out the door, giving you an odd look as he passed by. He looked... Guilty, but his smile was sad and soft, but seemingly affectionate. You knew he would help if these two were scaring you too much.

The two boys brought you to an unpopular mine in the DreamSMP that was filled to the brim with ores.

They were quick to take down any and all mobs that came within any sort of distance to you, recklessly charging without a second thought in attempts to protect you.

While there was intense amounts of fear and tension circling through your veins because of this morning, you did quickly grow to have fun with the banter between these two.

Even Tommy and Tubbo were having fun bickering, almost seeming to forget the fact that they were in a war with each other. Almost.

The constant fluttering of their hearts and warmth on their cheeks was an easy reminder of what they were fighting for.

Every single ore, gemstone and pretty rock that you looked at, the boys would immediately pick up and put in their bags so you didn’t have to carry it.

When Tommy began to whine about being hungry, you wanted to go back to the surface to eat the food you had packed, but they both thought that was too far.

So, you suggested sitting down in the abandoned mineshaft you had discovered.

“Ooh!” Tubbo squeaked, his ears wiggling as he turned the corner of the mineshaft, “There’s a ravine over here! Let’s eat by the light of the lava so we don’t waste all our torches!”

“Finally! I’m starving!” Tommy tossed his ore-filled bag off of his shoulder and set it against the wall. Once you spread out the thick blanket you had brought on the ground, he plopped himself down and set down his shield and sword, “What do you have for food today, Big/Little (F/l)?”

You hummed as Tubbo sat himself down on the other side of you with a yawn, likely not used to getting up early, “I have... Sandwiches, some fruit slices, berries, y’know, the usual. You tired, Tubbo?” Glancing over at the brunet, you saw him rubbing his eyes with the long sleeve of his brown and yellow striped sweater that you had made him when he first travelled to Snowchester.

“Little bit, yeah. Can I lay against you? Just for a little bit?” He asked softly as you handed Tommy a sandwich, which he practically inhaled in seconds. Once you gave a nod of approval, the smaller boy laid down and curled up with his head against your lap.

Tommy grumbled in annoyance and without thinking much, laid down as well with his head against your leg too. When you gave him a small questioning look as this was highly out character for him, but he simply just mumbled about how you were definitely more comfortable than the rocks.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, unconsciously playing with their hair as you glanced around the stone walls for any untouched ores, but by now both boys were asleep and you didn’t feel like waking them up. Taking your time, you began to consider your situation now that you knew both boys were smitten with you and practically willing to hurt anyone who came in contact with you.

Tubbo’s mood switches scared you, a lot, and you were worried that him being the nice and blushing boy you had met a few years ago was nothing but an act and that all the gifts were an attempt to lure you in or distract you from his violent tendencies. You had watched him walk into your house, eyes blank and filled with rage towards his platonic soulmate for talking to you without his knowledge, and you were worried that soon that rage would be directed at you for doing something he didn’t like.

Tommy’s violent tendencies were just as scary though, so he wasn’t in the clear in your eyes either. While he did shape up a lot from when you first met, he still had a tendency to bark insults at you and hurt your feelings, which you hope is unintentional. He also often tried to threaten people and keep them away from you, like Eret or Niki who got yelled at and a tad bit injured after they had given you gifts or offered to bring you somewhere cool... They didn’t really spend time with you anymore after that... You missed them and didn’t want the same thing to happen to Ranboo.

But, this couldn’t go on forever. You couldn’t just run... and you knew very well that rejecting either of the two would cause the other to lash out severely, to the point where the one you chose, you, and your friends were in major trouble. It’s not like you could choose both right? ...Right? Then again... Choosing both would potentially cause tension to stir up again between the two best friends.

Your train of thought was violently derailed when you heard a hard thud a few meters in front of you. With a small gasp, you looked up and saw a creature of varying different shades of green slowly looking around before a few more thuds followed behind it. Before you could even think of waking the two boys, the green creature began to run at you quickly with its four legs.

A creeper.

A terrified cry left your lips and suddenly the weight on your lap vanished. Now awake, Tommy immediately grabbed his shield and used it alongside his body weight to slam into the creeper backwards into a small horde of zombies that had dropped down with it. “Get up you dumbass! Are you tryin’ to die?!” The blond yelled at you as Tubbo, who had also sprung up at the sound of your fear, began firing arrows at the group of mobs.

Once you got over your shock, you grabbed your axe and shield before quickly jumping to your feet and charging into battle. The zombie you had chosen to fight gurgled and swiped and gnashed its teeth together at you as you used your shield to block its hits. Backing up a few steps, you slashed your axe at the undead mob and took out its bottom jaw with the black blade, gleaming with an enchantment that set the creature on fire. The smell of burning rotten flesh caused you to gag and scrunch up your nose before you used your shield to shove it into the pit of lava at the bottom of the ravine.

Laughing softly in triumph, you turn around to help Tubbo and Tommy, only to let out another gasp of shock as you saw the very creeper that had been shoved away earlier had now returned with a vengeance. And it was mere inches away from your face.

There wasn’t much you could do except barely raise your shield in time to block a good majority of the explosion from damaging your body, launching chunks of stone outwards and off the edge of the ravine. 

And you as well.

“(Y/n)!!!” Tubbo’s voice echoed through the stone cavern as you felt yourself get launched backwards before beginning to fall, gravity quickly beginning to grasp onto you and drag you down towards the lava below.

Reaching out, to grab onto anything that would stop you from falling, but to no avail. Your mind barely registered Tommy and Tubbo running towards you before you shut your eyes tightly, silently praying to whatever or whoever to save you.

Then you stopped dead in the air, something wrapped around your arms and hands.

Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes and looked up to see the human and a goat hybrid that had been laying with their heads in your lap just minutes ago, were now desperately grasping one arm each, preventing you from falling to the end of one of your canon lives. Both of their blue eyes were filled with tears that were dripping down their faces and hitting the molten rock at the bottom of the ravine as they struggled to pull you up.

Once you felt the solid ground below you, you finally managed to take a few breaths to calm yourself down as you felt tight arms wrap around you on either side, barely able to comprehend the sobs of terror from your savours. The dull burning and throbbing pain on your cheek were enough to bring you down to reality and carefully wrap your arms around the two wailing teens as they desperately clung to you, almost as if you were going to vanish right below their fingertips.

Tommy was the first to gather himself and pull himself away from your good shoulder and rub his eyes free of tears to look at the new injuries covering your body and your busted armour, “F-fuck... We’re gonna have to get you to Phil to get those burns patched up...” He sniffled, trying to act like he wasn’t just bawling his eyes out over you nearly losing a canon life. For once, he didn’t seem to mind Tubbo clinging onto you and wailing into your side as you pet his hair, trying to calm him down. 

Tubbo refused to let go of you for the next hour as you travelled out of the mine, his arms desperately wrapped around your waist/shoulders. (Depending on your height)

Tommy also held onto your non-burnt hand, that once held your shield, as he carried yours and his bag, leading you both back the way you came

If another mob came out to fight, it was almost a guarantee that one of them would run forward and the other would lightly push you into a corner, then proceed to block you from view via a shield and their body,

Even if you thought that you were in a decent enough condition to fight, the one shielding you would only look at you sadly and shake their head, saying something about the explosion burns along your (s/t) skin.

Once you had gotten out of the mine, it was around 6pm, and the sun was going down, but luckily Tommy had sent a message to Philza, his father, about the situation, so he was prepared and already at Tommy’s house, which was the closest to the mine.

It wasn’t a long walk, but god you were so exhausted..

It got to the point where Tommy and Tubbo were on either side of you, preventing you from collapsing before you got to the home.

Let’s just say, when they opened the door, Philza was already there and immediately panicked upon seeing the injuries covering the one side of you and the state of your armour. (No you were not wearing the god armour Tubbo gave you.)

One of your cheeks and lower jaw were burnt and bleeding, along with your dominant arm and leg that weren’t behind the shield when the explosion went off.

Tommy Route - Mellohi

Because your home still being near L’Manberg and the Prime Path (In this route), it was easier for Tommy to check up on you while you were healing from your injuries.

While you were bedridden, Tommy was a lot, a lot, quieter when he came into your house, never sure whether or not you were sleeping.

If you weren’t, he would eagerly show you something he found, tell you some drama he heard around the area, or tell you about his day. Or just play Mellohi on constant repeat.

If you were asleep, he would silently walk over and check on your bandages or potion supply, (updating Phil if you were low or bleeding from moving too much), or even sit beside you for a little bit to make sure you wouldn’t just stop breathing out of nowhere.

To say he was scared your entire recovery process would be an understatement.

He would rarely let anyone but Phil check on you, definitely nearly blowing his nerve when Ranboo or Tubbo would walk into your house.

If it was Ranboo, we would definitely get picked up and thrown,

If it was Tubbo, he would try and push him out because he knew that threats wouldn’t work on him.

In the situation that he did push Tubbo out, Tommy would immediately lock the door and stay in there for the next few days

For the more likely situation, because we all know how stubborn that goat is, and he wasn’t able to push Tubbo out, Tommy would subtly put a few drops of the sleeping potion Phil made you, into your drink.

When you began to doze off, Tommy would mention it to Tubbo in the most serious voice he could muster. It always worked, because Tubbo wanted what was best for your health.

The absolute minute that Philza deems you stable enough to get off of bed rest, Tommy is by your side in seconds and trying to encourage you to stand up.

When you do get the nerve to try and stand again, he would immediately be holding your good arm, preventing you from falling if your bad leg suddenly gave out.

In the case that you do collapse from your injuries, he would at first be extremely panicked, but then he’d start calling you insulting names and calling you an idiot.

He would bring you on walks all around the DreamSMP to get you used to walking again but would have no problems sitting down again.

That’s a lie.

He would complain a little bit, but if he saw you were genuinely in a lot of pain, he would just shut up and awkwardly ask what he could do.

If you needed anything for pain, he would straight up run to your home and get it, if they already didn’t have it.

The fact that you’re spending so much time with Tommy absolutely infuriates Tubbo, and he tries to guilt-trip you into spending more time with him.

But then Ranboo tells him that you can barely walk down the Prime Path without wanting to cry from the pain of the burns, and he offers to move back to L’Manberg. Or at least what’s left of it.

This sparks an argument between Ranboo and Tubbo almost immediately, but you’re much too tired to try and stop it, instead quietly asking Tommy if he can help go back to your home or to get them out so you could sleep.

He would be glad to.

Like he would do it, with an absolute goofy smile on his face because he basically gets your permission to have your attention all to himself!

When you’re all healed, your relationship between you and Tommy has practically tripled from what it was.

You’re much closer to him than he was to Tubbo, to the point where he has told you everything.

Even about his exile...

Because of your closeness to him, he somehow got even more protective but also calmed down his threats.

Like, now you could talk to Niki and Eret again, but you were not allowed to leave your house at night alone, especially after mobs have spawned.

Hell sometimes if he’s really paranoid, he’ll go to your house and spend the night just to make sure mobs don’t bang on your door or ruin anything.

He straight up took the time out of his life to fence the property around your house off and fill it with torches so things didn’t spawn in.

Sure he’ll call you slightly insulting names, but he makes sure that they wouldn’t be too painful for you before saying them aloud.

Tubbo still tries to be nice and manipulative, which Ranboo tries to stop, but it’s pretty much worthless at this point.

He’s lost.

He knows it, Ranboo knows it, and Tommy damn well brags about it.

Tubbo does end up crying to you quite a bit about it, but you can understand, he’s heartbroken at this point and can’t do anything about it. Tommy and you know about his manipulation tactics, he couldn’t take Tommy’s last life because it would show up on your communicator, and then you would never love him!

Unfortunately, this does cause him to lash out at Ranboo quite a lot which led to their third divorce. Although this one seems quite a bit more permanent, you never know. (Ranboo took Michael)

One evening, Tommy invited you out of the house oddly enough. Even though mobs would be spawning soon? It greatly confused you.

He even asked you to wear nicer clothing? Like a tux or a dress? Either one or both worked in his eyes.

Honestly, you weren’t sure how you were supposed to fight mobs in a fancy outfit, but you trusted him.

“Tommy?” You asked, opening the door as you smoothed out your clothing with your hands and adjusted your hair a tad bit to your liking. It was shocking to see the tall blond nicely cleaned up and wearing a suit, but it was quite a welcome sight!

He nervously adjusted his red tie before holding out a bouquet of perfect (f/f), and cleared his throat, “You... Uh... Clean up nice. I- uh... No- wait... What did Sam say again?” He murmured to himself, “Ah fuck it... You look nice, (Y/n).”

You chuckled as your cheeks flushed a light pink, happily taking the bouquet filled with your favourite flowers, “I’ll put these in a vase and then we can go where you wanna bring me.” With a smile, you quickly placed the flowers in a glass vase filled with water before going back out with Tommy.

“Sh-shall we? Is that a common phrase to say?” He asked as he held out his arm for you to link with his, a habit he picked up from walking you around while you were healing.

“I suppose we shall. Calm down Tommy, no need to be all fancy and stuff around me.” You chirped with a small smiled as you took his arm, linking it with his, “Now, are you going to tell me where we’re going? Or is this supposed to remain a mystery?”

Tomathy visibly relaxed once you told him he didn’t have to be all professional and fancy, beginning to lead you down the Prime Path, “It’s a secret! I worked hard on it too! So you better be grateful or I’ll kick your ass.” He jokingly threatened, smiling a bit as you laughed at his typical attitude.

He led you down the wooden path, the two of you joking the entire way with a goofy smile across your faces. Tommy then took a sudden turn onto a newly made pathway and lead you down it, never answering any questions about it the entire way, even when the buildings turned into a forest. The pathway was lined with fences, and the trees were filled with small hanging lanterns, not only preventing mobs from spawning but also creating a beautiful fairy forest effect.

Seeing your look of awe, he gave a small sheepish laugh, “You like it? Puffy and Sam helped me out with it for the past few days, but this was my idea! And this isn’t even the best part!” He grinned widely before quickly pulling you along again.

The walk wasn’t very long, but it was extremely beautiful. Eventually, he brought you up to a large hill with a massive oak tree where a beautiful picnic was set up, surrounded by lantern light. Even with the lanterns, you were still able to get a clear view of the starry sky above without a single cloud in sight! “Oh my god... Tommy... This is incredible...”

“Innit? Puffy helped me make all the food, but this was my idea. Unless you don’t like it. Then it was Puffy’s idea.” He joked in an attempt to hide his nervousness as he went to ruffle his hair, but then remembered that he had spent a few hours taming it down, so he decided against it.

“I love it! This is so beautiful!” You looked up at him with a bright and happy smile, making him return it with a soft smile of his own, “Come on, oh! There’s a jukebox!” You eagerly pulled him over to the blanket and sat down, taking a look at all the food that had been set out.

The tall male happily took a disc, Mellohi to be precise, out of the enderchest that had been set beside the jukebox, neatly placing it in and pressing the button to make the music play before he sat down beside you. The two of you began to eat the meal that he helped make, joking, laughing and smiling the entire time, having the time of your life. You leaned your head against his shoulder and smiled up at him as you gently held his hand, making him realize even more how important you were to him.

Mellohi, the same song he lost his friend to, was the same song he was listening to while gaining a new important person in his life. You.

The entire night went on with you two eventually falling asleep at the top of the hill, completely unaware of the brown-haired male leaning against a tree. He desperately grasped his shirt where his heart was as tears poured down his shirt.

Tubbo always liked Cat more than Mellohi...

=

Tubbo Route - Don’t Let Me Fall

Tubbo was so so glad that he had managed to convince (manipulate) you to live in Snowchester when he did. (In this route)

Somehow managed to convince you to live in the mansion, although it was probably done when you were drowsy on the pain killer potion Phil gave you.

This man would completely ignore his own country to make sure you were well taken care of. Like Ranboo literally had to step into power and start working on things and taking care of Michael.

Speaking of the baby zombie piglin, because you were now bedridden and bored out of your mind, Tubbo frequently brought the child in if Ranboo absolutely demanded that he take over for a bit.

The baby absolutely adored you! The injuries on your body reminded you of the ones he got when he travelled to the overworld, so he didn’t feel alone.

Unfortunately because of your constant pain and drowsiness, Tubbo thought it was best that he stayed in his room. Or maybe that was because he didn’t want him getting close to you too?

It was actually extremely rare for Tubbo to let anyone in to visit you. He actually even got incredibly annoyed when even Phil would come over to restock the potions for you or make sure your wounds were healing.

On a normal day, if you were awake, Tubbo would be blabbering on about some story without a care whether or not you were listening. He would most likely be acting the story out as if it were a play, determined to provide you with as much entertainment by himself as he could.

If you were sleeping, he would also be sleeping, although on a few chairs pushed together in your room. There’s a rare time where he will stay up and watch you to make sure you’re breathing still, but that’s only if he’s really scared and paranoid.

Tommy absolutely REFUSES to even look at Snowchester, so you never really got a chance to thank him for saving you. 

Although... Tubbo very actively tries to convince you that Tommy didn’t even come to help you when you had fallen and that you had been in shock so that’s why you didn’t remember correctly.

At first, you didn’t believe him, but eventually, with constant repetition, you slowly saw it as the truth. You genuinely began to believe that Tommy hadn’t pulled you up and that it was only Tubbo that did.

After quite a few weeks, Phil told Tubbo that you could finally get out of bed, but Tubbo asked him if he was 100% sure MANY times.

The goat hybrid actually didn’t want you to get out of bed and start walking again, worried that you get up would leave him, so he wasn’t going to tell you.

But Ranboo was the one who told you.

This led to quite a violent argument between Ranboo and Tubbo, but there was nothing Tubbo could do since you already knew the information he tried to keep from you.

Tubbo started ignoring you, so Ranboo was the one to try and get you used to walking around again, but this lead to the shorter male getting extremely jealous and helping you instead.

He frequently walks you around Snowchester on a strict set schedule, when he knows no one will be out and no mobs will be spawning.

One time, he didn’t expect Tommy to be walking around the snowy forests when he was walking with you, holding your hand to make sure you didn’t lose your balance. At least that’s what he told you.

Tommy looked... Empty, when he saw you both walking together. But his eyes darkened a bit when his blue eyes landed on your hands twinned together.

Tubbo looked a little hostile in your eyes, but he simply just gave Tommy a sharp smile before trying to pull you along as if he didn’t notice the tears beginning to pool in his ex-best friend’s eyes.

Tommy knew he lost right then and there, so he decided to say fuck it and start screaming degrading names at the two of you, catching you greatly off guard, hurting you badly enough to the point where your feelings were more than a little hurt.

When the founder of Snowchester realized that the blond hurt your feelings, he was quick to lash out back at the other man in your defence, but by then you were already walking away, back to the manor.

It took about ten minutes for him to realize that you went back to the mansion, but when he did, he sprinted through the door in an absolute panic before practically pouncing on you the second his eyes caught sight of you.

He protectively wrapped himself around you and whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you quietly rested your head against his shoulder.

After that, You and Tubbo became a lot closer emotionally. To the point where he called you his platonic wife jokingly, although you both knew he didn’t want to add platonic at the beginning.

He began to tell you about everything that weighed heavy on his shoulders, like his death from Technoblade’s fireworks, even to being threatened by Dream during the disc war.

When he noticed that you were genuinely beginning to care about him, his manipulation and jealousy actually began to calm down quite a lot.

You could actually spend time with Michael and Ranboo without anyone getting yelled at by Tubbo and causing him to get ridiculously jealous.

He began to take over his job as the founder of Snowchester, now actually trusting Ranboo to keep you company and even letting him take you outside during the day. But he refused to let you out during the night.

He’s just worried about mobs. Creepers especially.

Everything seems relatively like it was before that one day before Tommy and Tubbo completely lashed out at each other.

Tommy does often try and talk to you when Tubbo isn’t around, but both you and Ranboo try and put a stop to it as quickly as possible,

He’s lost.

He hurt you, and Ranboo couldn’t help but miss how Tubbo used to be, so if keeping Tommy away from you makes Tubbo act normal, he will damn well make sure that Tommy stays countries away from you.

This does cause Wilbur’s younger brother to break down a little bit, which you can genuinely understand, even if you hold a grudge against him for not saving you and yelling at you, you knew he did have feelings for you at one point even if he refused to admit it.

Unfortunately, this does cause quite a bit of pranks and explosions to stir up around Snowchester and the L’Manberg crater, but they stop within a few weeks. Tommy probably got scolded by either Sam, Phil or Puffy,

One morning, Tubbo invited you to spend a day outside of the mansion with him after a heavy snowfall.

He spent almost all morning outside, doing something he refused to tell you about, and when he came in to wake you up, his face was already cherry red from the cold.

How could he even want to go back into the freezing cold without any sort of warm drink or even sitting in front of the fire for a bit!?

“How are you so... Full of energy?” You murmured from behind the bathroom door as you got changed into your warmer clothing for when you do go outside. The door was cracked open a small bit so you could hear Tubbo rambling on and on about how he had a great surprise for you.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!” He was obviously grinning with excitement. When you walked out of the bathroom in your thick clothing and jacket, he bounced up from his spot on the edge of your bed, “Finally! Let’s go! Hurry, before it snows or gets warmer.”

You only nodded curiously and he grabbed your hand, eagerly pulling you out of your room and down the large stairs that lead towards the door. He pushed the large doors open with a bit of difficulty due to the snow piled up, but with your help, you both managed to slip out the door. Tubbo happily grabbed your hand again and began leading you down towards the docks where the water was covered with a thick sheet of ice, “Oh it must’ve got really cold last night... What are you showing me?”

“Over here!” He pulled you over to a large half-sphere made out of snow. He led you over to a hole in the side of it before dropping down to his knees and crawling through the entrance, “Come on!”

Blinking in surprise, you hesitantly followed him inside of the handmade snow building and gave a small gasp of glee as you saw that it was an igloo! The inside had a few blankets on the ground, preventing you from sitting on the icy snow-covered ground, there were a few lanterns placed on small snow hills preventing the small room from being dark, plus there was a small basket of what looked like two thermoses and a bit of food, “Tubbo! Did you build this?”

“I did! I also spent last night building it too!” He grinned widely, his ears wiggling with glee, “But this isn’t even the best part! Check over here!” The brunet shuffled over to another basket before pulling out a pair of white boots with silver blades bolted to the bottoms.

“Ice skates?” You tilted your head a bit as you crawled over and pulled out the pair that looked to be your size, “But I can’t skate...”/”How did you even know I could skate?”

Tubbo only turned his happy grin towards you, “I’ll show you how! Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall!”/”You briefly mentioned that you missed skating once or twice when you were all dopey on painkillers a few months ago!” He pulled out his pair of skates and began to take off his boots. (After getting his skates on he helped you with yours if you didn’t know how to lace them up.)

Once your new footwear was all tied up, he helped you up and carefully lead you outside with his arms tightly wrapped around you to help you keep your balance. (Even if you did know how to skate, he was still worried about you falling.) Tubbo carefully led you towards the ice and helped you stand up straight on the frozen water, making sure that you wouldn’t fall.

“See?” He smiled softly and held your hands tightly as he began to skate backwards, pulling you along with him until you slowly got a hold of what you were doing. “You (still) got it!”

You two slid and slipped around on the ice, laughing, smiling and spinning around with the other, but suddenly out of nowhere, your blade got caught in a groove of the ice that likely got chipped out when you two were skating around. With a small cry, you felt your legs slip out from under you and you immediately shut your eyes, awaiting the inevitable impact as a result of gravity.

Thankfully, two arms wrapped around your frame before you hit the ground. You slowly cracked open your eyes and saw your best friend holding you tightly against him. Your (e/c) eyes stared into his blue ones for a few moments before your face broke into a smile. “You caught me...”

“I would never let you fall...”

There two of you continued to skate around, having fun in the other's presence, completely unaware of the blond hidden behind a snowbank with his hand clasped tightly over his mouth and tears beginning to freeze to his reddened cheeks.

Tommy often found himself wishing he had let you fall...

=

Tommy & Tubbo Route - Rhythm of the Storm

Because your original housing was set between Snowchester and the Prime Path, it was surprisingly an equal distance between Tubbo’s mansion and Tommy’s house.

In the beginning, Tommy would go to your house first in the mornings, then leave around noon when Tubbo would come, but the constant social interaction left you always sleeping through either one of their visits.

It got to the point where you asked both of them to come by at the same time so you could talk with them both at the same time.

This caught them both off guard that you wanted both of their attention at the same time, but then only began to see benefits from them meeting with you together.

Now you weren’t out cold during the mornings when Tommy opened the door, and now you weren’t asleep by 2pm when Tubbo was over. Plus they could both take care of you at the same time!

There were a few times when either of the boys’ yandere tendencies peaked out, but you or the other would scold them out of it. Or Tommy would give Tubbo a small smack upside the head which would make him scream dramatically like a baby goat.

While they did take your injuries relatively seriously, they also were joking with you and cheered you up with their antics, preventing you from falling into a depression from staying inside all day and every day.

On a normal day, if you were awake and had more energy than normal, Tommy would be telling you incredible stories of his travels and Tubbo would be either making food or potions. Tommy isn’t allowed near the brewing stands or the stove anymore if you’re wondering.

On a bad day, if you barely had any energy and could barely stay awake, the two boys would be much quieter and let you sleep. On those days, they would ask Phil if you were actually okay, or they would go back to their respective homes.

If your burns are causing you immense amounts of pain one day, Tommy will refuse to even be in the same room as you and will genuinely beg Tubbo, Ranboo or Philza to stop your pain. Even if he doesn’t like others being around you, he’s beginning to accept Tubbo’s care towards you but he’s still wary about his father and Tubbo’s husband.

Speaking of, Ranboo and Michael had seemingly disappeared from Snowchester, but Phil assured you that they were both in the Tundra, (And to keep it a secret from Tubbo.)

On Phil’s latest visit, he told you that you could get up and out of bed without irritating the burns on your legs, although you might have trouble at first.

Upon hearing the news, Tubbo and Tommy were at your sides in seconds, asking if you wanted to get up and encouraging you to try. If you didn’t want to, they (mostly Tubbo) would understand about it and leave you to sit on the fact for a bit.

If you did, Tubbo would be at your injured side to make sure your bandages stayed together when you got up, while Tommy would be on your good side and mostly holding you up if your balance was bad enough.

Tubbo wanted to help you walk around at night, just in case you were self-conscious of your burns, but Tommy was too worried about any sort of mob approaching you. While they knew they could protect you, they just didn’t want to take any risks.

Tubbo will burst out crying after he hears an explosion, meanwhile, Tommy will freeze completely still. Which is also what happened during the mining incident that caused you to get injured, which is why Tubbo was the one to scream and continue to cry long after they had saved you.

Because of this, they don’t want to face a creeper with you around to see them panic and be in danger while they struggled to get themselves together.

When you’re out walking around, Tubbo is extremely patient and Tommy at least tries to hold his complaints. 

If someone even looks at you wrong, they’ll have an angry raccoon boy yelling threats at them and Tubbo drawing his sword. They usually run with their tails between their legs afterwards.

If you collapsed on the walk from the pain, the amount of panic that would happen would be enough to have every single parental figure in the SMP running to help you. Luckily when it did happen, Badboyhalo was there and was strong enough to carry you without irritating your burns, and even gave a few pointers on how to help with burns. He had to raise Sapnap. He would know.

When you woke up at your home, you saw Tubbo and Tommy actually having a civil conversation with the large 9ft demon rather than threatening him to get away from you. That could've been because he was a demon though. But you were still proud!

You guessed that they still thought you were asleep when Bad left because you heard them murmuring and trying to keep quiet as they most likely made lunch.

Because of their conversation with Bad, and proving to you that they can actually behave themselves, you began to realize that their Yandere tendencies were calming down a lot. Meaning you weren't scared of them that much anymore, and you were beginning to accept their feelings towards you.

Unfortunately... You couldn't pick between them... And didn't know how open they would be to polyamory, but seeing as they weren't ripping each other's throats out, maybe their reactions wouldn't be too terrible?

Tubbo began to tell you about everything that bothered him, currently and formerly, like his death from Technoblade’s fireworks, even to being threatened by Dream during the disc war, or the nukes disappearing and his worry about whether or not Tommy cares about him.

Tommy also began to open up as well. Telling you about his brothers and father, his exile, his fear that Tubbo doesn't care about him anymore, and his third canon death.

After the two began to open up more, you began to realize they weren't being as clingy and desperate for your attention, most likely now trusting you to spend time with people other than them.

Maybe because they were catching on to you slowly beginning to return their feelings...

Everything seems relatively like it was before that one day before Tommy and Tubbo completely lashed out at each other.

A few weeks after your body became completely healed, the two boys spent a few days away from you, which you were curious about but never really commented on it.

One day when they both arrived at your house at their usual time, they were dressed up for an adventure and their bags were filled with everything that anyone would need.

They eagerly pulled you out of bed at some ungodly hour in the morning, although Tubbo thankfully had breakfast (and coffee) ready which you ate before going to get dressed into appropriate clothing and your god armour that Tubbo made, that was equipped with a new god sword that Tommy made you!

This was your first adventure since the explosion in the mine, and you damn well wanted to have fun.

"Okay, okay! Damn, Big Man, calm down!" You groaned as you threw the bag over your shoulders and tightened the straps accordingly. Once you tied up the laces on your boots, you straightened up and without fail, you felt both of your hands being grabbed before you got dragged out the door.

"We've been planning this for a few days! Nothing will stop us now!" Tubbo cheered, hopping along beside you as he held your scarred hand, "We have everything we could ever need for the next week!"

Your surprised reaction was ignored as Tommy continued dragging you down the Prime Path with a map in his free hand, "A whole week? That's quite a long adventure! Are you sure we'll be able to handle it?"

"Relax (N/n)! We were both raised by Philza Minecraft! Y'know, Survivalist extraordinaire? We know how to ration, build a shelter if needed, and everything in between!" Tubbo gave you a wide and cheesy grin as he spoke about the man who raised him, despite not actually being related to him. (Dadschlatt AU if you're wondering)

The three of you ventured off through many acres of forests and other biomes, holding hands and chatting away the entire time. Tommy let it slip that you were going to find buried treasure and maybe a woodland mansion if you were feeling brave enough, which is why he was always holding the map.

"Tommy, (Y/n)! Look!" Tubbo squeaked out happily as he saw a field of dozens of different flowers with bees hurriedly buzzing about to pollinate the plants around. The sight of the yellow and black bugs caused Tubbo to make happy little bleating sounds as his ears wiggled.

You and Tommy exchanged glances with a small smile, knowing very well you wouldn't be able to pull the hybrid away from them. "I suppose it is about time for a break..." You murmured as you were dragged off by the smaller brunet, thus pulling Tommy along as well.

The three of you sat down in the flower field, placing out a blanket to prevent yourselves from getting covered in dirt, despite knowing that it'll happen anyway. You set out the food Tubbo had packed while the two teenage boys ran around, having fun and, well just being teenagers.

Yes, Tommy got chased by bees.

Tubbo made you, himself and Tommy a flower crown, which you proudly wore, but Tommy was a bit more hesitant which you eventually made him get over by giving him a begging look. Yours was a bunch of (f/f) varying with colours, Tubbo's was a variety of yellows and white flowers, while Tommy's was mostly red and white.

While you three enjoyed your small picnic, you were all completely unaware of the fleeting bees, closing flowers and scattering animals. It was only when Tubbo's ears began to flick oddly did he lift his head, "I think there's a storm quickly approaching..."

You lifted your head and rose your arm to block the sun from your eyes to look at the quickly darkening clouds, "Oh damn, yeah we gotta go find shelter. Like now." You hurriedly grabbed your bag and began shoving the foot containers in it while Tommy and Tubbo packed everything else up too.

Despite your best efforts, you three quickly got caught in the downpour of rain and became absolutely drenched in rain by the time you found a small and shallow cave to hide in. "Aw fuck... Absolutely perfect! Sam said it wasn't gonna rain todaaaaay!" Tommy whined dramatically as he slumped against the stone wall.

You sighed and began pulling out the blanket again, knowing very well that you'd all be here for a while. When Tommy stopped whining about how he thought it was gonna be perfect weather, he helped Tubbo with starting a fire so you could all dry your sweaters that you had been wearing.

The two boys plopped down on the blanket on either side of you, Tommy hiding his head on your shoulder while Tubbo was curled up with his head against your lap, (After asking for permission of course) trying their best to drown out the sound of the sounds of the booming thunder.

After a few moments, you used the consistent pattern in the rain to keep beat before beginning to hum a soft tune while you ran your fingers through their damp hair.

Slowly, Tommy and Tubbo fell asleep, leaning against you while you hummed along to the rhythm of the storm...

=

Neither Route - Left the Game

Your house was quite out of the way from the Prime Path and Snowchester, in fact, quite possibly even closer to the Tundra. (In this route.)

Meaning that you were pretty far out of the way from everyone except for Ranboo, Phil and Techno. Which prevented both Tubbo and Tommy from coming around often, meaning Ranboo and Phil had to help you with a lot.

You felt bad because you didn't know either of them too, too well, but at least you knew you would definitely be getting better.

Ranboo actually had no problem helping you with your injuries, although he had to carefully write down what he gave you and when.

During your road to recovery, Ranboo and Tubbo's relationship became incredibly worse as the goat hybrid became even more manipulative and violent.

You became a personal therapist and babysitter for him and Michael, in return for him helping take care of you.

Speaking of Michael, the reason Ranboo hadn't joined you on the mining trip was because Phil had finished making a potion that would allow Michael to survive in the Tundra.

Tubbo and Tommy's violent habits had quickly doubled over the time when they couldn't see you, but luckily for you, the one time they did try to visit, Techno had come with Phil to meet you.

They ran out immediately.

Yes, Techno asked you about how you felt about anarchy.

Whether or not you joined the Syndicate is up to you.

Ranboo then told Techno and Phil about how Tubbo and Tommy were obsessed with you, and that your life was possibly in danger.

Technoblade only said that he had no way to help you, but Philza's fatherly instincts kicked in and he wanted to protect you both from the two boys he raised.

Once you got all healed up your burns scarred over, Phil and Ranboo already had an idea of how to keep you both and Michael safe.

It was highly risky and would leave you with only one life until you come back to the DreamSMP.

Phil was going to give you access to his Hardcore server.

Both you and Ranboo had a long and serious talk about it, but then remembered he was literally rich. He had dozens of totems!

Techno made you three totem pendants for you to wear around your necks, so you wouldn't always have to hold the totems.

(Philza asked his wife, Kristen the Goddess of Void and Death, to keep an extra close eye on you three and make sure if any of you do die, it's incredibly quick and painless.)

Standing in front of Phil, your bags filled with everything you would need to survive in the hardcore world, you watched as the centuries-old avian scanned you three up and down.

"I'll ask you both one final time." He sighed after he deemed all of your equipment and armour worthy. The blond fatherly figure stood in front of you and Ranboo as you held Michael with a glowing green orb in his hand, "Are you sure? There are no respawns when you run out of totems."

"Yes. It'll be much safer than the DreamSMP..." Ranboo murmured quietly, quickly scrawling as much as he could fit into his memory book before he forgot anything, "Even if it isn't permanent... We just need to run."

When Phil turned to you, you couldn't help but take a deep breath, "Yeah," You murmured, shifting the young piglin child on your hip, "I'm sure. Thanks again Philza... We really needed to be somewhere where they wouldn't find us..."

"I'll check up on you both once a week. Remember, travelling through servers will disorient you for quite a while and you quite probably won't understand where you are at first-"

"(Y/n)!!!" An angry yell came from the forest, and you turned your head just in time to see Tommy and Tubbo running in your direction.

You and Ranboo hurriedly whipped your head to face Phil again, but he seemed to have caught on before you both as there was a portal swirling with greens and golds beside him, "Go! Now! I'll see you both tomorrow! Remember, you can take anything you need to increase the chances of your survival!"

Ranboo got over his shock much quicker than you did because he grabbed your arm and leapt through the portal, bringing you and Michael along.

Ranboo Beloved left the game.

(Y/n) (L/n) left the game.

Michael Underscore-Beloved left the game.

[ehbeeseedih]

Lost a bet - positions

Prompt:

So you lost a bet and posted that you wanted to try out some sex positions and were looking for volunteers. As soon as you were allowed, you were going to go delete it, but then you looked at the replies. Who said they wanted to do each one with you?

How it works:

Go to “Random.org”.

Click on “Lists & More” and then “Lists Randomised”.

Enter the names of 18+ people/characters.

Use the first 10 to find out who volunteered for each one.

PS: This is my first time posting on tumblr so the sizes of things, font and all those kinda things might be a little wacky, but I’ll try to fix it afterwards. 

You can check out my other stories at AFF.  Now, enjoy reading 10 bad smuts to fulfill your daily bad smuts quota.  

Oh yeah nearly forgot, thanks to @existslikepristin​ for the tag.

Rosé - Missionary

“Everything I need is on the ground.” 

The music ends, the ending pose done, everyone claps. Today is the last day of practice before Rosé’s solo debut tomorrow afternoon. 

You went to the showers in the dance studio after debriefing. A cold shower does wonders for relieving body ache after intense practice sessions. 

As you prepared to leave the studio, you saw Rosé still practicing by herself, wearing the tight short skirt outfit she’s about to perform in tomorrow. 

Rosé bent forward as the music reached the chorus, her safety shorts failed to adequately cover up her butt cheeks as they came into your view. Your pants abruptly got tight at the sight. 

You desperately try to divert your attention as Rosé caught you staring at her. Instead of calling  you out about it, she began twerking harder, letting her plump butt freely bounce in front of you. 

“Like what you’re seeing?”

“Yes…..” You shyly replied

“Well I could use some releasing, haven’t had a cock for a while.” 

She lowered her skirt and panties in a single stroke, “How you like that?” 

“Huh?”

“I mean how would you like to fuck me?” 

“Missionary please, I’d like to see your face.” 

She lays down on the floor and spreads her legs wide, “Vanilla huh, I like it. I’m already on the ground, what are you waiting for?” 

You’ve finally realised the true meaning of “Everything I need is on the ground”. Let’s just hope that both of you won’t be too tired to perform tomorrow. 

Doggy - IU

Having a bubbly and needy girlfriend like Jieun can be both a blessing and a curse. 

The blessing, a very fulfilling sex life, anytime and anywhere. 

The curse, it’s hard to reject her when she wants them but you don’t. Her aegyos and delicate moans were like cheat codes that made you do whatever she told you to. 

In the present, you’re faced with two very major problems you had to deal with. On one hand, you had a report and 2 proposal you needed to turn in by tomorrow

On the other hand, you had a needy girlfriend who’s willing to do anything to get you to fuck her. 

Jieun had been doing everything she could to get you off work and pay attention to her. She started with strip tease, lap dance, progressing to slowly jerking you off and giving you a messy blowjob. 

You had nearly given up, a few moans escaped your mouth, but in the end you were still working, and Jieun was also still working. She released your cock from her mouth and went to the bed.

Immediately, you heard sounds of wet flesh and Jieun’s soft moans. 

“Ahhhh, why are you still working? You could be here balls deep in me. Ahhhhh, it would be better if it’s your giant cock inside me instead of my slim finger.” 

That nearly tempted you off. Your cock was growing hard again, your hand slowly stroking it along to the beat of Jieun’s moans. 

“Look at me!” She shouted. In hindsight, you shouldn’t have looked. The moment you turn your head, there is no going back.

Jieun was on all fours, her fingers in her pussy slowly pumping off. 

“Come fuck your little slut. Look at how wet I am for you.” 

Magnetized by her pussy, you gave up work and went over and grabbed her hips.

“You nasty little slut, distracting me from doing actual work. Now let me punish you.” 

“Oh yeah, punish your little slut. Fill her with your cum and send her to heaven.”

Suffice to say your bosses were not impressed when you said you had to take care of your pet yesterday and couldn’t finish your work.  

Cow girl - Jessica

Why are you in a 5 star hotel again? Oh yeah, you were at a family gathering with your wife Jessica. 

But why does she look so mad? Did you piss her off doing something stupid again? 

“Do you know why I’m mad right now?”

“No……” A ringing slap on your left cheek. 

“Please explain why were you fucking my sister during the family gathering?” 

Oh yeah, now you remember. Krystal was seducing you during dinner, which ended up with you getting caught by Jessica while cumming inside Krystal in their family house bathroom. 

“Well……. Krystal was seducing me, and you did say it’s ok to touch your sister right?” A ringing slap on your right cheek. 

“I said only when I’m not available. I was prepared to give you a surprise but you decided to be a bad boy.” 

Jessica took off her bathrobe and revealed the red lacy lingerie underneath it. 

Red - the ultimate colour of seduction. Jessica certainly knew how to get you fired up. Luckily for you, you too knew how to get her fired up. 

Hug her hips, hand on her butt, face in front of her pussy “I’m sorry mommy, I have been a bad boy, please forgive me.” 

“Ahhhh” Jessica moaned and pushed you down onto the bed hard. “You’ve been a really bad boy. Now let me ride you.” 

“Yes. Please mommy.” 

69 - Miyeon

“Hey Miyeon, look at me! I’m sliding down the slide upside down.” 

She ignored you. 

Miyeon had been acting all weird today. Like she was pretty weird normally but today even more so. 

She told you she wanted to do something fun today, and then she brought you out to a playground in the middle of nowhere. 

Was she going through nostalgia and wanted to relive her childhood? That doesn’t seem like it. She had been looking around scanning the area ever since you got here. What was she looking for, there’s nothing and no one in the vicinity. 

“Hey baby, what are you doing?” 

She approaches you with a smirk and grabs your crotch, gently rubbing it. 

“Baby, I told you I want to do something fun right. Let’s fuck right here. Nobody is watching.”

“What…….” Before you could speak, Miyeon had unzipped your pants and started sucking your already hard cock.

“Can you at least let me sit upright first?” 

“No, 69 is part of the fun. Now shut up and eat my pussy.” 

“You’re one kinky girl Miyeon.” 

Downward dog - Shuhua

You loved your job as a yoga instructor, and having your classes famous among idols is a huge reason for it.

It started out with Yerin and your extra sessions. Apparently she liked it so much that she introduced Joy to join your extra sessions too.

Since then, idols had been coming so frequently that you’ve had to space out the appointments as your body couldn’t keep up with the number of sessions. 

Last week it was Yves and Chuu and this week it will be Shuhua.

“Hi Shuhua, how are you feeling today?”

“Great, just a bit stiff. I’ll need some help with stretching later, maybe your pole can be handy.”

“Alright, do you want to start off slow or go straight to the extra sessions.” 

“Be fast please, I’m impatient.” 

“Alright then, let’s start off with the downward dog pose. Put your hand on the floor and raise your hips up.” 

“Good, looks like you have been following my advice and putting in extra work. Your thighs look very meaty.” 

“I’ve been doing a lot of leg work recently.” 

“I’ll message your butt and help you relax your muscles.” 

“It feels great, please don’t stop.” 

“What is this Shuhua, why is there a wet spot in between your thighs?” 

“Ahhh, don’t tease me please.” 

“Oh no, no panties. You’re a naughty student. Let me punish you.”

“Yes please, use your cock to help me stretch out my thigh pussy.” 

Side saddle - Yuju

Some come to the beach for the relieving feeling, some for the tan, some for the sea breeze. But you’re here for the bikinis and tiddies. 

Sitting under your beach umbrella, you can usually see a whole beach of beauties enjoying themselves. But not today. 

The beach is desolate today, not much to see. Just the occasional family with nothing impressive, not the usual group of eye candies. 

The weather is beginning to turn and you prepare to abort. Just as you’re about to leave, you spot a lady sporting a red bikini slowly approaching from afar, heading towards your direction.

As she nears, you observe her fit body, her abs and her beautiful appearance. 

“Hey, why are you here at the beach?”

“I came here for a walk. But it seems like the weather today is not cooperative.” 

“That’s unfortunate, maybe we can do something together to create some memories and remedy that.”

She scans your body. Instinctively, you flex up your abs.

“Alright, but we do it my way.”

She sits on top of your crotch which starts pumping up with blood. You scan around for one more time to ensure no one is watching.

While you scout, Yuju is busy relieving your cock from your pants and inserting it through her bikini bottom. 

She begins bouncing on you slowly. The cold winds contrasted with the interior warmth of her pussy, heightening the experience. 

Some come to the beach for the relieving feeling, some for the bikini and tiddies. But you’re here for the fuck. 

Throat Swab - Jiho

A rich heiress by the name of Jiho has recently come under your radar. Her mansion was outside of the town and she lives really lowkey. 

Made a rough survey of her mansion, it seems relatively lightly guarded given her wealth. No one except her servants went in and out of the mansion, not even Jiho herself had left the mansion throughout the few days. 

Clock struck 12, sneaked into the mansion from the back door without anyone noticing

Circling around the mansion, surprised by how empty it is inside given the luxurious exterior. The heiress living inside must be pretty lonely. 

Made your way to the master bedroom. Jiho sleeping elegantly in her princess themed bed. 

Tied her up on her bed with ropes

Ransacked her mansion, took away many valuables. Heard a loud scream from the master bedroom 

With lightning speed, headed to the source of the sound. Found Jiho struggling with her hands tied up

“What are you doing, let me go.” 

“Shut up you nasty bi*** “ Placed your palm on her face to quiet her.

Instead of resisting, Jiho surprisingly licked your palm in a circular motion, her eyes telling you of her desire

Stuck your fingers into her mouth and she dutifully sucked it with vigour.

“You’re a needy little slut I see. You’re being kidnapped and yet you’re sucking my fingers” 

“It has been a long time since I've seen a man. It’s natural to be needy.” 

Released her, knowing she won’t run away. Brought her to the edge of the bed with her head hanging from the bed. 

“I still need to keep you quiet, maybe I should stuff your mouth with my cock”

“Please fuck my mouth, please.” 

Pearly Gates - Arin

You’ve always thought Arin was the good girl type. The type that would be shy about sex. 

However, after a date started off with her sucking you off in the car, feet playing with your cock under the restaurant table, ass grinding on your crotch in an elevator and her hand guiding yours while touching her pussy in the cinema, you threw away all your dumb assumptions. 

After a libidinous date, you came home utterly exhausted and immediately fell into your bed. 

As you slowly dozed off to dreamland, Arin crashes on top of you, waking you up. 

Instinctively you moved your hand to embrace her whilst both of you gradually drifted into slumber. 

Your legs suddenly felt numb and a need to move them. Finding your legs trapped under Arin’s legs, the only way to move them was to spread out her legs.

Your legs slowly spreaded Arin’s legs out and you heard a barely audible moan from her. 

Arin turned around with a soft smile and raspy voice “You still got juice to try out a new position?” and began grinding her posterior on you to get you in the mood again.

You quickly moved to remove the bottoms for the both of you “What’s this new position you’re talking about?” 

“It’s called pearly gates, I learned it from reading a smut challenge.” 

She impaled herself on your cock from above as you felt her being more tight in this position 

The sex was great, and lucky for you Arin did not eat much for dinner.

Stand and Carry - Minju

“Ha, you suck at Mario Kart.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you won. What do you want?” 

“Carry me to the ice cream shop.” 

“Can’t you walk yourself? You’re heavy, you know.” Despite bickering, you willingly bent down and told Minju to get on your back. 

However, she refused and insisted on being carried on the front. 

Minju wrapped her legs around your waist and you felt her moist core pushed up against your crotch. 

“No panties?” 

“Shut up, just go.” 

You’re sure she already felt it but your cock was rock hard and bulging out after knowing your girlfriend’s kinky behavior. 

As you carried her towards the store, every little movement and vibration of a step caused your clothed bulge to rub against Minju’s bare pussy. 

Minju tried her best to hold back her moans but occasionally some slipped out which attracted the attention of people nearby. 

Not only do you have to deal with the weird glances from the passersby, but also your internal desire to fuck Minju then and there.  

At the last 100 meters, Minju’s soft moans suddenly became a deep groan, her whole body gripped on yours as she orgasms. A gush of fluid wettens your pants on the crotch area. 

Just as Minju recovered from her bliss, you spotted an empty alley and headed there. 

Making quick work of your pants with Minju still hanging on you, you swiftly inserted your cock into her drenched pussy. 

Guess she won’t have a clean skirt to go home with. 

Spooning - Taeyeon

*This one is a little long

After watching Aladdin at the cinema, you headed home alone. 

Windy, starry night, with roads empty due to the cold weather. You enjoyed this lonely feeling, it was what you’re used to after all. It brought peace to your mind, away from the loneliness in your shack, away from the judging eyes of society. 

All was good until a shady looking fella approached from the opposite direction. He was carrying a big gunny bag behind him, panting. It must’ve been heavy. 

At first glance, you would’ve assumed him to be a murderer, carrying a fresh corpse behind him. 

He approaches you and tells you hastily “Do you want a body pillow? It has a really beautiful lady on it.”

Totally weirded out. “No thanks, I have no use for it.”

“Just take it, bye.” He dumped the bag onto you, the weight of the bag bringing you down to the ground. He’s nowhere to be seen after you stood back up, disappeared into the wind. 

Not wanting to be fined for random disposal of garbage, you carried the gunny bag home. The road home was an ascend, filled with potholes and untamed bushes, fitting for the blighted part of town you live in. Those combined with your fat figure made you pant the whole way home. 

You carried the gunny bag home and opened the thing inside. Well at least he wasn’t lying when he said it had a beautiful lady on it at least. 

Beauty is relative, but the woman on the pillow was undoubtedly a good view for the eye, especially when compared to your face which only your mum could love.

The day was a long one for you. You were prepared to go to bed by then. Instead of throwing it away, you just hugged the body pillow and went to sleep. 

Sleeping naked, you wanted to rub the magic lamp before sleeping, but ultimately decided against it. Whilst falling asleep, you subconsciously rubbed the body pillow a few times, its material comfy enough to not become trash. 

Suddenly a weird smoke came out from the body pillow followed by a bright glow of light. 

You were temporarily blinded but when you regained vision you saw a fine lady in front of you. 

“Hi, my name is Taeyeon. I’m genie for you boy. Tell me your wish”

“Damn, I must’ve been way too absorbed in the movie to be dreaming like this.” You thought. 

“You’re not dreaming sir, I will fulfill 3 wishes of yours” 

Remembering how your life had been a family friendly film without any adult action scenes, more Spongebob than Fifty Shades of Grey, you’re not going to miss the dance to rectify that. 

“Well you do look quite hot, it won’t hurt to have a wet dream. I wish to fuck you while hugging you.” 

“Your wish is granted, Sir” 

Taeyeon slowly removed her clothes, her perky breasts bouncing out of her bra, her removal of panties unveiled her cleanly shaven pussy, all illuminated by moonlight shining on her fair skin. 

She snuck into your embrace, which wasn’t the most comfortable position due to your bloated size, but it still worked. Grabbing your adorably sized cock, she impaled herself onto your cock and started moving. 

Your sexual awakening felt incredible, Taeyeon’s pussy was tightly squeezing your cock. You couldn’t go very deep, and you felt sad about it. 

“I wish for you to praise me.” 

“Your wish is granted, Sir” 

Taeyeon’s moans went from soft squeaks to loud groans, her movement increasing in pace.

“Yes Sir, you fill me up so good.” Even though you knew she was just fulfilling your wish, you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself for the first time in your life. 

With the encouragement boost, you began to thrust your dormant hips into her, in unison with her thrusting down. 

“Sir, why are you growing bigger. Ahhh” 

You’re growing bigger, that’s good to know. Your banging grows in strength to the point of moving the bed with you. 

Your neighbours would look down on you even more but you didn’t care. For the first time in forever, you’re doing something you like and you won’t let others disturb you. 

“Hghhhh, I’m cumming Sir.”

“Me too. AHhhh, let’s cum together.” 

Together, something you weren’t particularly familiar with. The orgasm was great, the sex was great, but even better was doing it with someone who enjoyed and appreciated you. 

“One more round?” 

“Sorry but I’m too tired sir, you fucked me too good.”

“Thanks for saying that but you don’t need to flatter me.”

“No I mean it sir, you’re the best one I’ve had.” 

Warmth filled your insides, not only did your first sex didn’t go down the drain, she even praised you for being good. Your vision was becoming blurry, but you’re sure it was sweat flowing from your forehead. 

“Alright then, good night Taeyeon.”

“Good night Sir”

As you awaken the next morning, Taeyeon’s morning visuals stunned you. You haven’t had the chance to properly see how she looked but now that you did, she was gorgeous. 

At the same time, Taeyeon also woke up from her sleep. 

“Last night was incredible Sir. You were so good.” Her compliment made you replay the scene from yesterday. It had been a long time since anyone had said you’re good at anything. 

“That reminds me, you have one more wish Sir, please make the most out of it.”

“What will happen to you once I make my last wish? Will you just disappear? Will last night just be another sweet memory that I’ll forever replay in my mind?” Tears were beginning to form as you’re about to go back to the lonely dark self after experiencing how good things could’ve been. 

“Unfortunately. Yes Sir.” 

An idea suddenly struck you,  “What if I wish for you to stay with me forever?” 

“Your wish will always be fulfilled Sir.” 

“I wish for you to stay with me forever.” 

“Your wish is granted, Sir” 

With that, another burst of light blinded you and you’re left alone in your room again, back to square one. Why did you think that you could escape this lonely life destined for you?

One day as you’re going back home from another movie, you saw someone carrying a gunny bag.

The scene felt awfully familiar. You approached the person and realised it was a girl this time around.

“Hi, my name is Taeyeon. I’m from the Girls Generation Genie Team. We work to grant the wishes of all lonely kids in the area. Could you help me with this bag of supplies?” 

“Yes! Yes!” 

Maybe being a lonely kid wasn’t so bad afterall. 

A/N: Thanks for reading. Hope you’ve enjoyed it. Feel free to tell me anything wrong or where I still need to improve. 

[krysphycookiez]

ateez | you as the female maknae

synopsis: you’re the youngest and only female member in ateez, let’s see how you get along with the boys

genre: fluff, platonic, imagines

pairing: ateez x maknae!reader

a/n: sooo uhhh yeah this is my first fanfic post on tumblr, i never really see these types of genres for in any ateez fanfic so i thought i’d try it out. i hope y’all enjoy it!

❤︎

tbh i think seonghwa be a bit distant at first, since he really didn’t know how to interact with you, not to mention the slight age gap

but then as you two started to spend more time together you gradually started getting closer

now the two of you have the cutest parent/child like relationship ever

take his babying tendencies with the other members and multiply it by 10

he always tries to take care of you in small ways like giving you water after dance practice or making sure you don’t overexert yourself

a bit overprotective but for the most part he just let’s you do whatever

also nags you a lot

whether it’s to do your homework or to eat something

he’s very worried about you all the time because of rude fans and netizens

but at the end of the day he knows you can handle yourself

even then you still depend on him sometimes

seonghwa also probably scolds the other members if they go too far with pranks/teasing

his bias towards you is very obvious

but he still sees you as a smol child that has to be protected at all costs

hongjoong is basically seonghwa’s behavior around you but 10x worse (not in a bad way tho lmao)

he definitely nags you a lot more because he’s a stressed leader

but that’s just how he shows he cares for you

definitely favors you a lot more than the boys when they are being annoying

he also makes sure you’re okay and in perfect health all the time

usually lets you help develop new tracks when you’re in the mood to help

sometimes even gives you some producing and recording tips, while also letting you listen to his most recent tracks

if you’re a foreigner that speaks english he probably tries his best to make you comfortable by speaking english to you

and both of you make a great translator duo too

even if you aren’t a foreigner but you still speak english you both probably have english conversations anyways

there’s of course those times where he scared you to death cause he’s upset

but he really doesn’t mean to scare you and apologizes afterwards

also overprotective like seonghwa, he just doesn’t want anyone hurting his precious baby

you just basically accepted that hongjoong and seonghwa adopted you

this bitch is either very soft around you or very annoying around you

depending on his mood, yunho will either baby you like you’re a toddler or tease you like there’s no tomorrow

especially because of your height too, he’s basically a tree compared to you

on vacation days he probably spends his time with you by either cooking or watching movies together

he really sees you as his little sister and he enjoys the feeling

if you’re one of the main dancers you and him probably do a lot of choreography covers together

especially bts covers

he usually teases you about certain idols you admire, jokingly saying you have a crush on them

this sometimes goes too far that even hongjoong gets involved

but at the end of the day it’s all just fun and games

whenever you’re feeling down he’s one of the members that comforts you because he can sense when you’re in a gloomy mood

he just wants you to feel happy and safe cause of the harsh idol life all of you go through

he’s also one of those friends that never lets you forget about embarrassing shit you’ve done too

but he will always be your sweet little teddy bear

like seonghwa, yeosang probably was a little shy around around you at first, probably cause you were a girl

but now he’s a ruthless and shameless little shit around you

he teases you all. the. time. there’s never a moment where he doesn’t take the opportunity to tease you

he’s the reason why you developed your sneaky and savage side in the first place

LOTS of insult battles, and it’s usually a 50/50 win too

though there’s always those petty fights about who won too and the other members just watch the chaos unfold

probably takes you out to eat chicken with him too, cause he still cares for you

and also the type to say “no one but me is allowed to call you stupid names and tease you”

speaking of stupid names, he barely refers you to your actual name off screen, he always has dumb nicknames for you

and vice versa too, you also can get pretty creative with names

but he’s also one of the members to automatically know when somethings wrong with you, like yunho he’s emotional support for you

also encourages you to push harder as well (ofc not TOO far), because he wants you to be the best version of yourself

no one can hurt you in any way or that person will get a piece of yeosang’s mind

even though he’s an annoying brat around you all the time, he still deeply cares and cherishes you cause he really does love you like his sister

he loves you so much! san thinks you’re so adorable and he just loves you so much

probably praises you for every little thing you do too. the others sometimes get tired of his antics sometimes but you find them cute

you steal his attention from wooyoung and that sometimes causes petty rivalries, but it’s all just fun and games

he’s also another member to know when something’s up with you, cause you guys were even close during trainee days

initiated a lot of skinship with you, and he likes to play with your hair too and vice versa

also a lot of aegyo between the two of you, you two are just so soft for each other it’s irresistible

san is also the type of friend to wake you up at like- 3 in the morning to play games with him or watch a movie

speaking of games, you guys also play a lot of games together

most of the time san wins though

if you speak english, he probably asks for tips and lessons on english, and you’re partly the reason why he has a smooth accent and decent vocabulary

you also probably tease him a bit, especially about his dance audition to KQ, which always results in a smack

platonic kisses on the cheek and head too off screen, there might have been a few cases where you two might have actually kissed on the lips

but probably because you lost a bet

he’s your little cheerleading puppy and you two are just such cuties together

crackhead duo, enough said

you and mingi always say and start the weirdest shit all the time, you both team up to prank the other members

mainly with seonghwa and hongjoong cause their reactions are funny. though you never dare to lay a finger on jongho

you two once started a running gag about calling seonghwa oppa (you call them hyung) and that joke lasted for a week

he also watches a lot of memes with you, and both of you have the craziest laughs ever

sometimes the other members are concerned for your mental health

if you aren’t a rapper, you probably try to imitate his rapping. it always looks very silly and he just cracks up at the sight

you two also cause a lot of chaos when it’s just you and the others without the 98 liners

also you two aren’t allowed to cook together anymore

one day when you it was just you and the 99 liners, mingi threw some flour at you while baking and it caused a whole ass war

hongjoong spent an hour wiping frosting off of the wall, and you guys got a huge scolding from seonghwa. still worth it though

you probably steals his hoodies cause they are so warm. he either doesn’t mind or gets whiny about it

probably has pasted sticky notes all over your room before in random spots, and you did the same to him too

you two are the equivalent to chaotic twin siblings and it’s just adorable

two words; sneaky bitch

wooyoung can and will annoy you to death with his stupid antics, and vice versa too

you two probably didn’t get along at first in trainee days but now you guys are the closest you can get

he’s very affectionate around you that even SAN sometimes gets jealous, san of all people! you have to be very special to make him jealous

also those petty rivalries between you and him over san never really last that long, it’s just stupid bickering

probably tags along with you and mingi to prank the other members

LOTS of flirting and stupid pickup lines

he usually wins them because you can’t beat that man’s charm, but sometimes he makes a comment a little too inappropriate that results in a scolding

both of you also do a lot of stupid dances together, and the other members just watch you guys wonder what the hell you two inhaled

if there’s a rumor/false scandal surrounding you, he will comfort you the most and protect you at all costs, even going as far to glare and call out someone who insulted you

also initiates a lot of skinship with you, though not as much as san, you just always smell good so he can’t help himself

you two also cause a lot of chaos at fansigns, whether it’s fighting over a snack or smacking each other with toys

sometimes people think you guys are childhood friends, and who can blame them? you two are so close it’s immaculate

and maybe a few dating rumors surrounded you before, but at the end of the day you guys are just really good friends

jongho is the only member who doesn’t baby you, since you guys are pretty close in age

he doesn’t really show it cause he doesn’t like showing affection on screen, but he always looks out for you

no one dares to mess with you when jongho is around cause they know they are gonna get their shit rocked

mingi and wooyoung learned that the hard way

he’s very caring for you and although he doesn’t show it by hugging or in any other physical gestures, he shows it through words

he actually was really shy to talk to you at first cause he thought you were really pretty, so you guys talked through notes

eventually he came out of his shell and now he talks to you like one of his close friends

if you’re one of the main vocalists, you and him probably sing a lot together, even when he’s breaking apples

has probably taken you to a few puppy cafes before so you could frolic with all of the adorable dogs

he just really wants the best for you, even if this isn’t super visible on screen

you also jump on his back a lot to make him carry you cause he’s a strong boi

he also just picks you up randomly and throws you over his shoulder just for your reaction

and it’s a lot of screaming fyi

overall, he brings out the more calming and quiet side in you, but it’s nothing bad, because both of you know that you care for each other

❤︎

a/n: so that’s it for the first fanfic post! i’m sorry if it isn’t that good it’s been a while since it’s been a while since i wrote a fanfic, so this is a fresh new start for me!

i might move some of my wattpad stories here on tumblr, but see will see ;) requests are still open! so drop some requests if you liked this one

this is @/krysphycookiez logging off... ♡︎

[taentedmess]

sleepless nights

summary: a year is a long time, isn’t it? you’ve spent yours stuck in an eternal, monochrome winter. a surprise encounter derails all of your plans: feelings fade… or do they, really?

pairing: taehyung x reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: swearing, terrible terrible angst (im sorry!), heartbreak, implied smut, angsty flashbacks :(

a/n: hi everyone! this is my very first fic on tumblr and i really hope you enjoy! please listen to spring day and scenery to really get into the feels - i hope you lose yourself in this little slice of a seoul winter :’) also i do have a storyline planned if you enjoy this little piece and could potentially even make this a series aah! please leave comments and constructive criticism - i’d love to grow as a writer! (@chateautae i finally did it!!!!!!)

[    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙      ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙    ]

09:17am, december 17, 2020

It’s been a year since you last saw him. A year of emptiness, hollowness, blankness. A year since you turned your back, leaving without a goodbye. It’s been a year since you’ve walked out his front door, the same one that you’d find yourself visiting and revisiting when you knew he wasn’t home.

It’s been a year since you last felt some semblance of happiness, a year since you’ve let out a genuine laugh, smiled from cheek-to-cheek. It’s been a year devoid of warmth: you shivered under the embrace of the summer sun, no longer noticed the blooming flowers that you had once loved so much. The world lost all its color. Fading into a bleak grayscale so far away, unreachable. No longer did you walk with a spring in your step, no longer did your eyes glimmer with galaxies that you’d once built with him. You were empty, a ship lost in the depths of the dark oceans. Floating, barely surviving, with no set destination. All you saw were never-ending, infinite oceans in all directions. No escape, no lighthouse. Just you. Alone. Pointless.

Your heart aches for him, the echo of a honeyed baritone, the ghost of his warm, muscular arms wrapped around your shoulders.

It’s for the best, you had thought. It’s for the best.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the thoughts out of your mind. There was too much, too many feelings, pent-up emotions. You weren’t a woman of emotions, never were, swore to never be, until you had met him. And he had changed everything.

Stop. This is getting ridiculous.

You needed to get on with your life, you think. There are too many things to think about, so many better thoughts requiring your attention. What were you doing, wasting your energy on him? It was time, you had decided, to end things once and for all.

The ticket machine snaps you out of your reverie, demanding it get paid. How much did the trip cost? You’ve forced yourself to forget, holed up all the memories too far into the shadows of your mind in your sheer desperation to evade the pain. You slot in a W10,000 bill, way too much, but better than having to remember. The machine happily eats up the cash, returning your card and sending you on your way.

You navigate the platforms, seeing the brightly-lit signs: Incheon line, Suin line, Bundang line. Then you see it, Platform 6, Gyeongwon line. South-bound to Soyosan, stopping at Iryeong. Your heart thumps, stomach twists, and you feel like throwing up. How many times had you once ascended these very steps with him, hand-in-hand, smiling to one another? How many times had you raced up these stairs, trying to get to the platform first? It’s too much, and you want to run. Run away from this place, from the thoughts and feelings.

No. You need this.

The winter air roughly brushes against your cheeks, hurrying you along.

What are you so afraid of?

Everything, you think. Everything. You’ve bound your heart in chains and locks, plastered it with thousands of bandages, one on top of the other. You’ve holed it away, willed it out of existence. You’re afraid of the memories, the emotions. You’re afraid of yourself.

Go. Just go. Get it over with.

You force your feet to move, one after another. You don’t think, you just move. Move onto the platform, move onto the train. You don’t realize that you’ve boarded the machine until you hear an all-too-familiar voice on the loudspeaker.

“This is the Special Rapid Train, on the Gyeongwon line, headed for Sosoyan. We will be stopping at Seokgye, Wolgye, Dobong and Iryeong. Please stay clear of the sliding doors!”

You vaguely see the blinking of lights and hear the shutting of the doors. The train picks up speed, clicking against the railroads. You are blank, a passenger on an endless journey. You sway when the train sways, stop when it stops. You don’t know how many stops have passed, having lost yourself in the familiar nothingness that had hollowed you out for the past year, until the speakers announce something about the next station being Dobong. You’re near, you realize. Too near.

Too soon does the train halt, birthing out and collecting new passengers as seats empty and taken once more in a matter of seconds. You watch this interchange with a bitter smile: how quickly he must have replaced you after you’d left, how he must’ve taken in another in your place.

Stop it.

Too engrossed in your thoughts, you don’t notice the closing of the doors and the blinking of the lights until you hear the loud system once more as the train starts to accelerate.

“Iryeong, Iryeong. Our next stop is Iryeong, please get off on the right side of the train.”

You are left suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, watching as snow paints the ground white. The houses blur into trees and back into villages as you stare out the window, and you start to remember. You remember your hands intertwined, dancing in the snow, the click of a camera as the melodies of your laughs twirling in the air. You remember the snugness of his embrace, his earthy cologne, his smile, his lips pressed against yours…

Stop.

You tear your gaze away from the glass, staring down at your gloved hands fiddling in your lap. It’s been a year. It’s laughable how much and how little has changed. You’re different, yes, but yet so painfully similar to the girl who ran away. It’s funny how much of a difference, or lack thereof, a year can make, you think. It’s certainly been hard on you, and you find yourself wondering about him, about how maybe the year has changed him, how he’s doing, if he’s eating well, if…

Stop.

You’re hopeless, aren’t you?

You sigh and shut your eyes. You’re going crazy. Or maybe you’ve always been crazy. Your thoughts are feverish, a maelstrom in your mind. Involuntarily, you notice your feet rapidly tapping the metal bar to your side, vibrating against the pole. You feel the ghost of a touch on your thigh, hear the empty shell of his words, breathe, Y/N, breathe. What’s got you all worked up? And for a moment, just a moment, you feel his presence to your side, capture the warmth radiating off of his figure, and smile. Because it’s all okay when he’s here.

But he’s not.

You decide to focus on the sound of the railroads, staring down at the speckled floor of the train as the carriage undulates gently, side to side. You ride along, the train’s movements easing your own and you begin to lose yourself once again in the clacks of the rails, mind going blank, until you start to notice the slowing of the sounds. The train’s dance comes to a slow, inviting people to start getting up and shuffle towards the doors. Your heart sinks to your stomach. Not yet, not yet. It can’t be. It’s too soon.

The loudspeaker crackles to life, confirming your worst fears. “Arriving at Iryeong, please stay clear of the doors and exit on the right side of the train.”

Your legs move on their own accord, pulling you to a standing position as you grip the metal post with your life. The train continues to slow, eventually, painstakingly coming to a halt. You wish it never will, that it will continue on with its journey ahead. But it’s too late. The doors slide open, the sounds of the outside world whistle for you, calling you, urging you out of the comfort of the train. You don’t dare move, standing still as passengers trickle out, as the flashing lights start to appear, as the minute at the station starts to come to an end. The doors are closing in five. Four.

You twitch.

Three. Two.

“Wait!”

You rush out the doors, barely escaping the iron clasp of the metals that would’ve devoured you had you been a second too late. Behind you, the steel hisses as the vehicle exits the station, leaving you alone. So utterly alone.

You’re blessed with a moment of solitude, feeling nothing but the cold air chilling your face, until you realize where you are and why you’re here.

The bliss of being alone rapidly evaporates, and you’re hit with a speeding truck. The memories flood in; you’re winded, gasping for breath as you’re stormed with images, short clips of him, you, the pair of you. His smile, his laugh, his cheeks, eyes, nose. His breath tickling yours before he leans in for a kiss, his gentle, large hands cupping your face as you close your eyes…

Stop. Get a fucking grip, will you?

You force the color out of your mind as you make your way around the platform, empty now that everyone has gone. Your eyes graze against the pathetic, run-down station: the signs are only partially lit, the electricity having worn out. Your fingers run against the peeling, dirtied paint of the walls, dust bunnies catching onto your gloves. You scoff. This is pathetic. The floor is littered with plastics and old soda bottles, as if nobody’s been here to clean in too long. Graffiti smiles sadly back at you as you scan the fading walls, losing their life by the second. The bricks have faded into a musty brown, drab and uninteresting. Everything is so run down, so tired. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you make your way to the minimart to your right, wanting a beverage to help warm your insides up.

The doors slide open with a gentle clink, altering the store of your presence. The cashier at the counter looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, barely acknowledging you, before returning to the drama playing on his cracked phone. The shelves are well-stocked, however, in stark contrast to the beaten-down appearance of this whole ordeal. You glide along the aisles, and everything is the same. Your favorite tea is still on the same shelf as it was all those months ago, his favorite gimbap in the bottom left corner of the chiller. Beef and sesame, he’d get, while you’d get a tuna for yourself, clinking your drinks and hearing the hiss of his cola opening, laughing as you made a mess of yourselves, two young fools madly in love. You’d talk, drink, eat for hours, whispering, dreaming and wishing, wondering what was going to come in the future, what you’d name your first puppy, whether you wanted a girl or a boy for your first child. Never would you have ever imagined that it would all end this way.

Stop it.

You grab your bottle of tea violently, almost knocking it over in your hurry to leave. You could no longer stay, not here, suffocating in your memories of him. You erased the gimbap out of your vision, ignoring it as you made your way to the counter, paying for your drink as the half-hearted employee handed you with your change. You mutter a thank you, unsure if he had even heard, and mindlessly make your way out of the store, too focused on keeping someone out of your head. You nearly bang into the glass doors in your haste, looking down and walking as fast as you can. Until your heart stops, that is.

You don’t dare look up, not now. The whole world slows to a stand-still, your gaze sharpening on nothing. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest, your lungs stop working. Electricity charges through the air and you’re left reeling, not knowing what to do.

Slowly, painfully, your neck raises, muscles straining with all their might. You already know what you’re going to see, who you’re going to see, but the sight of him still shocks you all the same. You nearly spill your drink all over yourself when you finally look up, and your brain goes into overdrive. You’re sure that your mouth is hanging open, jaw slack, but you can’t do anything about it. Your knees buckle, you can’t breathe, suffocating, wanting the ground to swallow you up at this very moment. You want to fall, tumble into an eternal tunnel. You are dizzy, light-headed, going crazy, you swear. You’re going crazy, aren’t you? This can’t be real, can it?

You can’t believe it. You’re drowning, drowning in those chocolate eyes, sinking into his pupils, losing yourself in his gorgeous features. You drink him all in, his own face mirroring yours, in no doubt absolute shock or maybe even despair, his deadly stare making your breath hitch as it once did so long ago. He’d never lost his power over you, after all. The world is suspended around you, all operations ceased as you both continue to stare into each other’s eyes, the tension so palpable that it threatens to devour you whole. Your larynx seems to be glued shut, your tongue a stone in your mouth. There are no words, no way to express this feeling that washes over you upon seeing him again.

“Y/N…”

His voice. Your ears ring with his deep baritone, honey to your ears. You can’t help it: you quite literally swoon, despite the circumstances. His voice: it ignites a fire within you, warm tendrils of heat rising up from your stomach. Vibrations send throughout your core, making you lightheaded and sure that you’re about to fall. You remember his timber next to you in the dead of light, comforting you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, it’s okay, it’s okay, breathe, it’s okay, you’re here with me.

You hug your arms around yourself, trying to keep it all in, retain the strange feeling that was now foreign to you after months of cold. It’s been too long, after all - you’ve gone too long deprived of this humanness, comfort that radiated off of him.

Things are different now, Y/N.

Yes, they are. Your mind goes berserk once more, considering all of the scenarios. Why is he here? He probably just needs to go to the minimart - no, why would he come all this way, he lives pretty far as well, or maybe he’s waiting on a friend, no, maybe he’s brought a new girlfriend, maybe she’s with him right now waiting to jump out of the shadows. Maybe they’re both exchanging looks right now when I’m not looking, laughing, taunting me, this girl from the past who doesn’t deserve to be here, maybe they all think I’m a joke now, what am I doing, why, why, why?

You’re so lost in your thoughts that when Taehyung addresses you once more, you’re violently jolted out of your mind and nearly fall backwards, body forgetting everything but the sound of his voice.

“Y/N…” he says again, forcing you to look up at him. Your name splinters through the air from his lips, cutting through the frost and straight into your chest; you notice now that his voice seems tired, that he seems tired.

You finally regain some semblance of control over your frozen tongue, lips moving in an attempt to emit a sound, any sound. Your lips wrap around the sole syllable that comes to you like muscle memory, the only one that you manage to choke out.

“T-Tae…”

Your voice cracks, unable to continue. The prolonged eye-contact has got you weak, his pupils boring into your soul. You look into his eyes, reciprocating, and you notice that maybe they’ve lost their golden sheen, that they no longer twinkle with constellations of stars. And it’s then that you realize: maybe the year has taken a toll on him too.

Look at what you’ve done to him.

“T-Tae, I, I, I…” you sputter out, guilt flooding your system like a drug. There was nothing you could say, nothing you could tell him to cheat yourself out of the situation or paint yourself in a better light like you’re so used to doing. You’re not used to feeling this powerless, this weak. Taehyung was the only one who saw through the facade, the only one who allowed you to feel vulnerable. You couldn’t lie to him, you knew you couldn’t; there was no wheedling, no bullshitting, no lying yourself out of any sticky situation, which had caused you this whole trouble in the first place. You ran because you were too much of a coward to talk to him, to confide in him. And look where that’s gotten you.

“Why are you here?” he asks, burying his head in his hands. “Y/N, why are you here?”

Why am I here? You don’t really know as well, there’s nothing that you can say to him. Why am I here? To get over him? How are you even going to tell him? He has to think that you’re over him, that it’s done. Stop torturing yourself, and stop dragging him through this mess of your life. Tell him that it’s done.

“I… I came because…”

Y/N, say something?

“I came because I… I was looking for you.”

What the fuck?

His head snaps up, his piercing stare catching your gaze once again. “You were looking for me?”

You feel your heart stop.

“Umm… well, I mean, no, but, no, well actually if I think about it now, yeah, yeah I was looking for you,” you stammer, unable to produce a single cohesive line of thought. “I was looking for you because I wanted to tell you that it’s over.”

Your own words are like a dagger twisting into your own heart and vaguely hear a choked sound breaking the awful, awful silence. Until you realize that it’s come from your own mouth, a sob that you hadn’t even realized that you were holding in.

A moment of charged silence goes by, yet louder than any noise that either of you could’ve let out. Never in your life has silence felt so utterly deafening, and you wish to cover your ears and scream it all out.

“You’re telling me this now?” Taehyung manages, features distorted in pain. “You’re telling me this now, a whole fucking year after you walk out the door without a single word to me?”

You look down at the ground, hating, blaming your traitorous mouth for saying something that you hadn’t fully thought through.

No, Y/N. You have to stop bringing everyone down.

You’ve lost all rational thought when you say, “yes, Taehyung. Yes. I had nothing to say to you then and nothing to say to you now. It’s done and it’s over.”

You couldn’t even say sorry?

The frosty wind brushes over the pair of you, causing you to shiver in your boots. You want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and disappear, pretend that this never happened, that this was all a bad dream.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a security guard watching the whole exchanged with piqued interest. It’s none of your fucking business, you want to scream. It’s none of your fucking business. And yet you’re so humiliated, embarrassed at this whole mess that you’ve made of not only yourself but the situation in its entirety that you cannot muster up any words to merely defend yourself. You want to cry, sob, yell, scream.

“Fine, Y/N, it’s okay. You know what? It’s okay, you don’t owe me an explanation, you don’t owe me anything, not an apology, not a reason, not your love. It’s okay. It’s fine. Maybe you never loved me, saw me in the same way. Maybe I just assumed, maybe it was wrong of me to assume. Maybe I was too optimistic, too in love with you that I had forced myself to believe the story that I had made up in my head, that you were in love with me too. Maybe I had wanted it, wanted you so bad that I had made myself believe it. Made myself believe that you were in love with me.”

Your heart instinctually reaches out to him, drumming feverishly against your fragile ribcage. No, you want to scream. No, Taehyung, you couldn’t be more fucking wrong. He doesn’t know the way your heart beats for him in the dead of night, how the mere thought of him sends shivers down your spine, how every cell in your body, every thread of your being aches, yearns for his presence with every hour, every minute, every second.

You feel your heart breaking, splintering into thousands, millions of tiny little fragments raining down like shards of glass. It hurts, it hurts like hell.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Don’t force yourself into anything. There’s no need to anymore. There’s no more need to lie, no more need to pretend that you’re happy.”

“Thank you for telling me the truth.”

It’s not the truth, you want to cry. It’s not. It’s the farthest from it. But you return his look, tight-lipped. You nod, despite the swell of emotions that are threatening to cut you in half at this very moment.

“You’re welcome.”

He reciprocates your nod and slowly, painfully, tears his eyes from yours. He stands up, gingerly, as if hesitating, and you want to tell him to stop, to sit back down, that you’re lying to him, that you want him, that you want him more than anything in this world. But you don’t, and he continues onto his feet, sparing you one last gaze.

“At least I get to say goodbye,” he says, wistfully. “At least I now have the chance to say goodbye.”

You’re sure that tears are streaming down your face at this point, little trails of ice making their way down your blushed cheeks. Your lips are tight, and you cannot, for the life of you, return his look.

Before you can fully comprehend what’s happening, you know he’s here, the familiar hold of his arms, your face finding itself nestled on the same spot on his chest, right above his heart. You feel it beat, gently, slowly, under your ear, a comforting rhythm that you’ve too often fallen asleep to, whispered to. Your arms instinctually wrap around his waist, and his head settles on the crook of your neck, the curve of his nose gently kissing your delicate skin. His warmth radiates from under his coat, and you soak it all in, collecting as much as you can. You are two puzzle pieces, a perfect fit, and you will this moment into eternity, searing it into your memory, wishing for the world to stop, stop right now and leave you in this moment forever. You’ve been lost, wandering, and have finally come home.  

But forever doesn’t exist.

You’re struck with a blast of cold at his loss, feeling horribly empty. He steps away from you, and you’re almost certain that you see moisture in his eyes, tears threatening to break free. Every fiber of your being yearns for him, you want to reach out to him, extend the hug, shower him in kisses, make up and forget that this all even happened, but you’re too prideful. You can’t let yourself do this.

“Goodbye, Y/N. Thank you for everything.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

                                            [    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙    ]

11:42am, March 12 2021

[taehyung]

I miss you.

I miss you as the seasons come and go, I miss you as I watch the world going to shit, losing all hope. I miss you when the wind blows, taking me along like a pointless man, destined for nowhere. I’ll miss you eternally; I’ll miss you when all the ice melts into the ocean, I’ll miss you when everything’s finally disappeared and there’s utter nothing left for me.

I miss you in the brightest mornings and the darkest nights, when the sun comes out to play and the rain starts pelting down like there’s no tomorrow. I’ll miss you in the loneliest winters and the blooming springs.

Everything reminds me of you. I am stuck in this eternal frost without you here; your loss has trapped me into this winter forever. I am slowly losing feel of my limbs as they succumb to the cold around me - everything has frozen into place, trapping me into the confines of this perpetual season. The world is closing in, I have nowhere to go, nothing to do. No longer do I have you to lead me out of this snow, no longer do I have you to hold my hand and bring me warmth through it all.

Why did you have to go?

Baby, did you know how much pain I’d be in when you’d left? Did you know how much it would hurt, how you’ve trapped me into this never-ending arctic, leaving me behind to freeze?

Did you know when you chose to go?

You’ve left me in ruins, my love. I can’t continue without you. I’m struggling to breathe, suffocating, as the world collapses inwards, threatening to bury me alive. I wait for you everyday, through all of the grief, the pain. I still wait for the day that you come back, that I get to see your face again.

Or maybe I’m a dumbass. I don’t know. Have you changed? Or is it I who has? Or perhaps, us both? I’m still a lovesick fool for you, Y/N, that I can tell you for sure. I can’t stop thinking of you, as the days pass, sun and moon taking their turns in the sky. I’m left, suffering in this darkness, bleakness without you here. I wonder if you’ll still be there at the end, when all ceases to exist. I wonder if I’ll see you again; how much more do I have to wait? How many more sleepless nights will have to pass before I can lay my eyes upon you again? How many days, months, years do I have to hold back before I get to feel you, touch you, kiss you, one more time?

Or maybe I’m being optimistic. You know what, Y/N, I’ll never see you again, maybe you’re better off without me. Maybe it’s all for the best, maybe it’s time for me to move on, maybe it’s time for you to move on. Maybe it really was not meant to be, maybe you really weren’t the one for me.

Then why can’t I get you out of my head?

Y/N, I wish I could just forget you. I wish you never existed, I wish I had never gotten to know you. Then it would be so much easier for me. I wish that you had ignored me, that you had turned me down when you had the chance. It would’ve been the most pain that I’d feel at the time, but believe me, it’s nothing compared to this.

Now I can’t get rid of you, no matter how hard I try. You’re there, you’re there when I lie down and close my eyes for the night, you’re there at work, hiding behind my papers and my laptop, waiting to take me out to lunch. You’re everywhere, baby, you’re in the car, riding shotgun and racing to connect to Bluetooth first, singing at the top of your lungs as we speed down the highway like the reckless teenagers that we were. I see you, hair tangled by the wind, belting out your favorite lyrics out of the roof of my convertible. And I remember thinking, for the hundredth time that night, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. Damnit, Y/N, you’re standing by the mirror every morning when I get ready for my meetings, dainty fingers straightening my tie and planting a kiss on my lips. You got this, lover boy.

You’re there, and then you’re not. You flicker between reality and imagination, I cannot discern whether I’m living in a fever dream or simply hallucinating. You’re slipping through my hands like grains of sand: I’m losing more of you by the second, can’t seem to hold on to you. You’re disappearing, getting further and further away as all I can do is watch helplessly as you fall through my fingers.

Where are you now, Y/N?

I worry about you, I worry whether you’ve eaten well, whether you’ve slept well, whether you’ve had a good day at the office. Have you seen your parents lately? Have you had some time to yourself over the past days, have you overworked yourself as you often tend to do? Are you taking care of yourself?

Is it selfish of me to be wishing for you, thinking of you after all this time? Tell me, Y/N, is it wrong of me to be wanting you despite it having been over for so long now? You’ve probably moved on by now, considering how long it’s already been. Maybe you’ve met someone new, maybe you’re in love with someone else, maybe I’ve already been replaced with another man in your life.

Maybe I treated you wrong, maybe you didn’t feel like I loved you enough, maybe I didn’t make you feel special enough. I wish, Y/N, I wish that I could turn back time for you, I wish I could go back and be better for you, that I could fix all of the mistakes that I’ve made, wipe all of the tears that you might’ve cried for me, swallow up all of the pain that must’ve been plaguing you, to suck up the hurt that you were feeling back then. I wish you could give me all of the pain, I wish that I could’ve carried it all for you, shielded you from it all like how I should’ve done.

But it’s too late now, isn’t it?

You’ve met someone else by now, you’re laughing, smiling, whispering with another, kissing someone else’s lips, in love with your new man. And I’m still here, trying to get over you like the pathetic loser that I am. There are so many regrets, so many things that I wish that I could still tell you, so many errors, mistakes that I made. It’s all my fault. I want nothing more than to be able to get on my knees in front of you and apologize for everything. There are so many more words, so many moments that I want nothing more than to be spending with you.

I’m still in love with you.

I think I always will be, Y/N. I know it’s selfish of me. I really can’t help it. I’m sorry.

You came into my life like a whirlwind, taking all of me along for the ride. And now that you’re gone, I don’t know what to do with myself no longer. I’ve been swept away with you and my fate will forever be left in your hands. There’s nothing left for me here, not in my work nor art. All that’s left is you. You are the only thing keeping me going now - I live another day, endure another night hoping for you, waiting for the day that I will finally see you again. I open my eyes for you in the mornings, in hopes of laying them upon your figure once more.

Maybe it’ll all be for nothing, I know. Maybe I’ll never see you again. But there’s nothing left for me, remember? I’m willing to take my chance. For when I finally do see you once more, it will all be worth it.

I miss you, Y/N. I miss you so fucking much. My heart beats for you, my lungs breathe for you. My every cell in my entire being aches so desperately for you, for you and you only. And so I’ll wait for you. I promise. I’ll be here for you, waiting for the day that I get to catch a glimpse of you, to be there when you need a shoulder to cry on, for when you need even the littlest, tiniest thing. I’m ready to give you the world, baby. I’m ready to right all my wrongs, to treat you like the fucking queen that you are. I’m going to treat you the way that you deserve.

When that time comes, my heart will be happy. When the time comes that I see you again, that I hear your voice again, your laugh again, it’ll be okay. All this pain will fade away to nothing. Don’t worry about me, darling, I’ll always be here, waiting. Waiting for you, until the end.

I promise.

                                                   ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

an: i hope you liked it!!!! <3 please please please leave feedback my loves!

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (2/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Thank you guys for reading the first part of this! I cannot say enough how much I appreciate all of you and how glad I am little things like this bring you guys joy! Thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for reading over these words. ❤️

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: One | Two 

-/-

“Emma, the couple at table two wants to talk to you, and the woman at table seven has a complaint about the quiche. Something about there being eggs in them.”

Emma groans and closes her laptop to look at Ashley, one of the new waitresses she hired this summer. She’s good, courteous, and she’s always here on time. Emma is going to hate to lose her for a few weeks when she has her baby, but come hell or high water, the girl is getting maternity leave even if Emma can’t manage more than three weeks without the owner getting involved and likely trying to fire all of them. She deserves months more than that, but Emma can’t change the system.

It’s a shit system, especially for moms.

“They don’t want eggs…in their quiche? Are you serious?”

“She’s vegan and claims she’s been misled.”

Emma rolls her eyes and stands from her chair. She pulls her jean shorts down, the frayed edges covering just a little more thigh, and unties the bottom of her button-down. She probably needs to start dressing up more for this job, but she can’t be bothered. She managed to wear her Blue Dog Tavern polo last week, so that seems like enough effort. “We have symbols on the menu to indicate dietary restrictions, but this isn’t really a restaurant for dietary restrictions beyond one or two items. I’ll deal with it. Thanks, Ashley.”

It’s Sunday morning, which is their second busiest time after Friday and Saturday nights, and the Blue Dog is packed. It’s all hands on deck this morning, but Emma was hoping to get some scheduling and produce ordering done in her office during it. But this is a restaurant, so of course there’s never any time for a breather when she needs it the most. She’ll finish all that later, she guesses, because she has a feeling neither of these conversations are going to be a short one.

And she’s right about that. The woman hating on the quiche pitches a fit and demands her money back before threatening to sue the place and, quite frankly, threatening to cut off Emma’s legs, and Emma has to resolve that without losing her cool when all she wants to do is punch jerks like that straight across the jaw. Then the couple at table two asks her to run through every item on the menu and whether or not everything is organically sourced.

They serve fried mac and cheese balls at ten in the morning and have kitschy, slightly tacky artwork nailed onto the darkly stained wood. If you eat outside on the patio, you get a nice view of people taking off a little more than they should while sunbathing on the surrounding beaches and docked boats. There’s also the occasional ferry that drives by and blows a loud horn that tourists seem to get a kick out of. Do they really think everything is organically sourced?

God, sometimes she really hates tourists.

This is a nice place, though. It’s not somewhere you go for fine dining, but their brunch is divine, it’s got a good atmosphere, and the new bartenders she’s hired this summer make better drinks than you can get at any reasonably priced bar in a ten-mile radius. She likes this little part of the island, and even though she hates tourists, they do fund her entire life. So maybe she hates them a little less than usual when the paychecks roll in.

Today is not a day where the paycheck is rolling in.

Emma notices some of the tables are a little slow, so she picks up the slack, getting drinks and refills and checking on meals. It keeps her on her feet for most of the morning and through the lunch rush, but when it’s over, she collapses on a stool at the end of the bar.

“Chip, can you get me a coffee?” she asks without looking up. “I don’t care what milk or creamer you put in it as long as you don’t bring it to me black. Though, I think I need the caffeine so badly that I’d drink it. I don’t know why I agreed to work the late dinner shift at The Oaks last night. I’m exhausted.”

When she doesn’t get a response, she looks up for Chip. He’s nowhere to be seen, and when she checks her phone schedule, she realizes it’s his break time. Of course it is.

“Lass, I don’t believe the barkeep is here anymore.”

“Yeah, it’s his break, but I can help you. What’s your poison?”

“The coffee you’re having.”

Emma nods and turns to look at the man talking to her, and if she wasn’t so tired, she would have recognized the voice a hell of a lot faster than she did. A lot of different accents pass through this place, but he’s the first British one in awhile. Also the first one to show up in her backyard. Or the Fishers’ backyard, technically, but she’s been renting it for long enough for it to feel like her own even if she’s changed very little of the furniture and decorations outside her bedroom.

Killian. She thinks that was his name. Honestly, she’s surprised she remembers anything because she was in such a rush to get to work that she didn’t have time to deal with all the people at her house. But he was unexpected and attractive – she’s not blind to attractive men no matter what Ruby and Mary Margaret think – and he threw her off for a minute. He looked familiar, but she has no idea why. There’s no way she would have met him before.

But she also doesn’t care. She’s got a gut feeling that she needs to watch out for him, that there’s something that’s not right, and him being at her job is proving that to her. What are the odds that he’d wander in a few days after meeting her when she’s pretty sure he’s never been here before?

Then again, maybe that’s why he’s familiar. It’s June. A lot of people come through here, and she’s not going to remember all their faces. Sometimes she does, though, in the back of her mind where vague, slightly blurry memories reside.

“Sure thing,” Emma sighs, standing from the stool. “Do you have a server?”

“Aye. Heather, I believe, but…”

“But she’s on her phone.” Emma shakes her head. “My boss’s niece. Not much I can do about it, but I’ll get you your coffee, a water, and take your order right away.”

He nods, going back to his own phone, and Emma takes that as her cue to get behind the bar and start making some coffee. She doesn’t usually work this machine, so it takes her a minute to get it right all while she feels Killian staring at her.

“Do you need any suggestions on the menu?” Emma asks as the coffee percolates.

“How are the salads?”

“I prefer things with more calories, but they’re good. Our vegetables are fresh, and I personally enjoy the strawberry poppyseed with chicken, but I know not everyone loves fruit in salads.” He hums behind her as his mug fills, and she grabs some milk from the fridge under the sink, turning to show him. “Milk okay?”

“It’s perfect, Swan.” She raises her brows, which he mirrors, until he cocks his head forward and his lips form an obnoxious little smirk. “On the nametag, love.”

“Now, what did I say about being your love?”

“That you’re not.”

“Exactly.” She finishes making his coffee and hands it over. He’s a customer, she reminds herself. She’s got to try to be a little bit nicer than she wants to be. “So, the salad? If you’re looking more toward the healthy options with protein, the grilled chicken breast on its own is fantastic. You get two sides, which you can find at the bottom of the menu.”

He nods and looks at the menu for half a second before looking up. “The salad would be great. Thank you.”

He picks up his mug, pointing it toward her, and Emma takes it as a dismissal so she can put his order in, and hopefully she can get Heather to do her damn job and serve him for the rest of the meal. She doesn’t like that he knows where she lives and works, and even though she doesn’t think Ariel and Eric spend time with shady people, something about him gives her weird vibes.

His face just looks so damn familiar, and usually she’s really good remembering faces. Huh.

And Emma is usually right about these things. He’s likely nothing more than a rich man looking for a break from life by renting out a large house on the island. He’ll spend a week or two, maybe a month depending on his work situation, here, sleep with as many women as he can, and then he’ll go, never thinking of Martha’s Vineyard again. And she’s pretty sure Ariel does something having to do with high-powered people over in London, so he fits the profile. God, she must have seen him before with Ariel or something. That has to be it.

But for now, he’s a customer, and since Heather seems to be completely checked out, Emma guesses she’s going to have to deal with him. After this morning, he won’t be the worst person she has to deal with all day, and since she’s working at The Oaks tonight, she imagines being treated like shit then will outshine all of this.

Why the hell did she decide to pick up so many shifts at The Oaks? It’s a stuffy country club where tips reflecting the price of the meal aren’t even guaranteed, but it’s extra money with a flexible schedule. She’s doing okay on the money front right now, though, and if she were sane, she’d take some time off and relax, maybe enjoy the beach or any of the hundreds of good restaurants around here.

She is obviously not sane.

-/-

“Oh my God,” Emma grumbles as she strips out of her jean shorts, kicking them to the ground before unbuttoning her shirt. “I’m so tired of people.”

“I’m people,” Ruby says. “Nice bra, by the way. The girls look great.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but she does glance down at her boobs and hike them up a bit. They do look great today. “Shut up.” Emma picks up the black dress she has to wear at the country club and slips it over her shoulders. “You know I’m not tired of you.”

“That’s because you’ve barely seen me.”

“Busy. I’m busy. I work way too much. Speaking of that, why the hell aren’t you at work?”

Ruby stands from her couch and grabs her name tag from the end table. “I’m in between shifts. Granny’s in charge downstairs. I have a five-second commute to work, unlike you. Why are you changing here again?”

“Don’t want to run into any of the people at my house.” Emma smooths her dress and turns to Ruby’s mirror to reapply lipstick and put on some mascara. She’s got to wash her hair tomorrow. It’s hanging by on a thread today, if that thread is a little greasy and has a hell of a lot of dry shampoo in it. “But don’t worry, tomorrow, I will be out of your hair as they will soon be out of mine.”

“You know I’m always fine with you being in my business. Mary Margaret and David are coming here for dinner tonight. Any chance you can slip away?”

Emma finishes another coat of mascara. “Can’t. Working until past closing and then heading straight home to sleep in my house of strangers.”

Ruby laughs, carefree as always, and for a moment, the jealousy stings. Ruby has plenty of her own shit going on, but she always handles it with such ease. She’s the most carefree person Emma has ever met, and Emma can’t imagine living like that without way too much alcohol in her system.

“I told you that you could stay with me this week. Have I ever said it’s batshit crazy that they come to visit and are okay with you still staying there? Because that is batshit crazy.”

Emma shrugs and pulls back to take in her appearance. This is as good as it’s going to get. She doesn’t think she’ll be using her looks to get her any tips tonight, which is a crying shame since that’s half the reason she took this job in the first place. She knows exactly how to charm some of the older men into giving her more money by flirting a little, and she’s not ashamed that she has to give away her dignity to do it. She had to hire a dinner-shift manager at the Blue Dog because she was doing the work of two people with the pay of one. Now she’s doing the work of five people with the pay and of one and half people, so obviously she’s winning at life.

“I’m never there, and they seem like good people. I think they’re just glad I actually maintain the place and am slowly but surely getting through some of the renovations.” Emma looks at her hair again and ties it up in a ponytail with the elastic from her wrist. “Any way you can make me a grilled cheese to go?”

“Only if you agree to go to a bar with all of us sometime in the next month.”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever you want.”

God, she hopes Ruby doesn’t remember this conversation. The last thing she wants to do right now is go out with her friends and then end up sitting alone as they all make out with their partners and leave without telling Emma goodbye.

Actually, the last thing she wants to do is go to work again today, but here she goes.

-/-

Emma quietly turns the key in her front door. She saw that the kitchen light was still on from the street, and while the Fishers likely just forgot to turn it off, she doesn’t want to run the risk of seeing them tonight. It’s their last night here, so she only has to make it through one or two more awkward conversations before she has the house to herself. It’ll be just her and the creaky floors. She can collapse on the couch in her dress instead of having to walk all the way up the stairs and make it to her bedroom like a responsible adult.

In another world, Emma would like to own a house like this. It’s charming. That’s the best way to describe it. It’s two floors, three bedrooms, has bay windows and built-in bookshelves, and the cabinets in the kitchen are a light green. She likes that it’s not cookie cutter white all the way around like some of the nicer houses around here. It has character, and though there are a few things she’d change beyond the needed repairs she does for the Fishers, it’s got good bones. Plus, the location is fantastic, and the backyard is spacious. It allows Emma to spend time in the sun without being stuck on a crowded beach or near a busy dock.

But this is not another world, and Emma could never afford a house this close to the coastline. She’s got no idea why she still lives here. Well, that’s not true, she knows exactly why she still lives here, and it’d be possible for her to pick up and move inland toward Boston. She just…she can’t. She’s been here for ten years after leaving her last foster home in Brockton, and it’s been a comfortable reprieve. She’s got her friends and her job(s), and even though she’s got years of hospitality experience, there’s no guarantee someone like her with a GED can get a job this well-paying and accommodating somewhere else. Plus, her housing is almost free, and she really can’t pass that up.

It all comes back to the house, which she’s dreading going into now no matter how much she wants to collapse onto her bed.

(Or the couch. She really misses the couch. It’s the best for napping.)

Emma steps inside, avoiding the places that make the floor groan, but it’s impossible to dodge them all. She tenses, then hurries across the living room toward the stairs, only turning to the opening to the kitchen at the last minute.

“Holy fuck,” Emma gasps, dropping her purse. It hits the ground in a gentle thud, her keys spilling out and clacking along the floor.

“Didn’t mean to scare you there, Swan.”

Emma’s breath hitches as she realizes who it is sitting at her kitchen table.

Killian…whatever his last name is. She’s got no clue and doesn’t care to ask. What she does want to know is why he’s sitting here alone at two in the morning like a fucking serial killer.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He takes a sip of his drink, coffee she thinks from the smell, and leans back in the chair, the front legs tipping up with him. “Getting sober so I can drive home. Had two drinks with dinner, and it appears I’ve become a bit of a lightweight.”

“Don’t drink much then? I thought all you Brits liked going to the pub.”

He laughs, smile bright against the black of his stubble despite her poor attempt at his accent. “We do, but not so much me anymore. Trying to cut back.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She leans down to pick up her bag, grabbing her keys and tossing them back in. “I also get that we have Uber here. You might want to try that the next time you have a little too much to drink. You look like a murderer sitting in my kitchen like this.”

“It was two glasses of rum, nothing excessive. Wishing Ariel and Eric well before they leave in the morning.” He leans forward, the chair landing on all four legs, and downs the rest of his mug. “I don’t make a habit of drinking too much.”

“I don’t care what you do in your personal time. Just don’t make a mess in my house…or your friends’ house, I guess. And sleep on the couch if you want. There are blankets in the basket.”

She doesn’t know why she’s offering him the couch. She should be making him leave. Her heart is still leaping out of her chest from him scaring her, and even though this has been her home for years, she technically can’t ask him to leave. In reality, Ariel has probably offered him the couch already.

What a long day.

She wants it to be over.

“That’s surprisingly kind of you.”

Emma’s step falters, and while she was turning away from the man, she decides to turn back and narrow her eyes. What the hell is that supposed to mean? “I guess I’m full of surprises for men who don’t know me.”

“Just who are you then, Swan?” he asks, standing from the chair and putting his mug in the sink, turning the faucet on while never losing eye contact.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Perhaps I would.”

A shiver runs down Emma’s spine, but she ignores it and walks up the stairs. This is a weird week, one she doesn’t want to repeat, and the last thing she needs is to spend too much time with a man who thinks he can charm his way into anything with a few smooth words and a smile. She’s been around enough men like that in her lifetime, but it doesn’t matter with him. Tomorrow, he’ll be gone with Eric and Ariel, and she’ll be back to being able to walk around her house without pants whenever she wants.

Tomorrow, this weird as hell week will be over, and she’ll be back to normal…mostly.

-/-

-/-

Tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion​ @dramioneswan​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​

[sereineityy]

how many more sleepless nights?

genre: nonidol!au, ANGST, slight fluff

summary: a year is a long time, isn’t it? you’ve spent yours stuck in an eternal, monochrome winter. a surprise encounter derails all of your plans: feelings fade... or do they, really?

pairing: taehyung x reader

word count: 5.4k 

warnings: swearing, terrible terrible angst (im sorry!), heartbreak, implied smut, angsty flashbacks :(

a/n: hi everyone! this is my very first fic on tumblr and i really hope you enjoy! please listen to spring day and scenery to really get into the feels - i hope you lose yourself in this little slice of a seoul winter :’) also i do have a storyline planned if you enjoy this little piece and could potentially even make this a series aah! please leave comments and constructive criticism - i’d love to grow as a writer! (@chateautae i finally did it!!!!!!)

                                                                                    [    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙      ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙    ]

09:17am, december 17, 2020

It’s been a year since you last saw him. A year of emptiness, hollowness, blankness. A year since you turned your back, leaving without a goodbye. It’s been a year since you’ve walked out his front door, the same one that you’d find yourself visiting and revisiting when you knew he wasn’t home. 

It’s been a year since you last felt some semblance of happiness, a year since you’ve let out a genuine laugh, smiled from cheek-to-cheek. It’s been a year devoid of warmth: you shivered under the embrace of the summer sun, no longer noticed the blooming flowers that you had once loved so much. The world lost all its color. Fading into a bleak grayscale so far away, unreachable. No longer did you walk with a spring in your step, no longer did your eyes glimmer with galaxies that you’d once built with him. You were empty, a ship lost in the depths of the dark oceans. Floating, barely surviving, with no set destination. All you saw were never-ending, infinite oceans in all directions. No escape, no lighthouse. Just you. Alone. Pointless.

Your heart aches for him, the echo of a honeyed baritone, the ghost of his warm, muscular arms wrapped around your shoulders. 

It’s for the best, you had thought. It’s for the best.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the thoughts out of your mind. There was too much, too many feelings, pent-up emotions. You weren’t a woman of emotions, never were, swore to never be, until you had met him. And he had changed everything.

Stop. This is getting ridiculous.

You needed to get on with your life, you think. There are too many things to think about, so many better thoughts requiring your attention. What were you doing, wasting your energy on him? It was time, you had decided, to end things once and for all.

The ticket machine snaps you out of your reverie, demanding it get paid. How much did the trip cost? You’ve forced yourself to forget, holed up all the memories too far into the shadows of your mind in your sheer desperation to evade the pain. You slot in a W10,000 bill, way too much, but better than having to remember. The machine happily eats up the cash, returning your card and sending you on your way. 

You navigate the platforms, seeing the brightly-lit signs: Incheon line, Suin line, Bundang line. Then you see it, Platform 6, Gyeongwon line. South-bound to Soyosan, stopping at Iryeong. Your heart thumps, stomach twists, and you feel like throwing up. How many times had you once ascended these very steps with him, hand-in-hand, smiling to one another? How many times had you raced up these stairs, trying to get to the platform first? It’s too much, and you want to run. Run away from this place, from the thoughts and feelings.

No. You need this.

The winter air roughly brushes against your cheeks, hurrying you along.

What are you so afraid of?

Everything, you think. Everything. You’ve bound your heart in chains and locks, plastered it with thousands of bandages, one on top of the other. You’ve holed it away, willed it out of existence. You’re afraid of the memories, the emotions. You’re afraid of yourself.

Go. Just go. Get it over with.

You force your feet to move, one after another. You don’t think, you just move. Move onto the platform, move onto the train. You don’t realize that you’ve boarded the machine until you hear an all-too-familiar voice on the loudspeaker. 

“This is the Special Rapid Train, on the Gyeongwon line, headed for Sosoyan. We will be stopping at Seokgye, Wolgye, Dobong and Iryeong. Please stay clear of the sliding doors!”

You vaguely see the blinking of lights and hear the shutting of the doors. The train picks up speed, clicking against the railroads. You are blank, a passenger on an endless journey. You sway when the train sways, stop when it stops. You don’t know how many stops have passed, having lost yourself in the familiar nothingness that had hollowed you out for the past year, until the speakers announce something about the next station being Dobong. You’re near, you realize. Too near. 

Too soon does the train halt, birthing out and collecting new passengers as seats empty and taken once more in a matter of seconds. You watch this interchange with a bitter smile: how quickly he must have replaced you after you’d left, how he must’ve taken in another in your place.

Stop it.

Too engrossed in your thoughts, you don’t notice the closing of the doors and the blinking of the lights until you hear the loud system once more as the train starts to accelerate.

“Iryeong, Iryeong. Our next stop is Iryeong, please get off on the right side of the train.”

You are left suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, watching as snow paints the ground white. The houses blur into trees and back into villages as you stare out the window, and you start to remember. You remember your hands intertwined, dancing in the snow, the click of a camera as the melodies of your laughs twirling in the air. You remember the snugness of his embrace, his earthy cologne, his smile, his lips pressed against yours…

Stop.

You tear your gaze away from the glass, staring down at your gloved hands fiddling in your lap. It’s been a year. It’s laughable how much and how little has changed. You’re different, yes, but yet so painfully similar to the girl who ran away. It’s funny how much of a difference, or lack thereof, a year can make, you think. It’s certainly been hard on you, and you find yourself wondering about him, about how maybe the year has changed him, how he’s doing, if he’s eating well, if…

Stop.

You’re hopeless, aren’t you? 

You sigh and shut your eyes. You’re going crazy. Or maybe you’ve always been crazy. Your thoughts are feverish, a maelstrom in your mind. Involuntarily, you notice your feet rapidly tapping the metal bar to your side, vibrating against the pole. You feel the ghost of a touch on your thigh, hear the empty shell of his words, breathe, Y/N, breathe. What’s got you all worked up? And for a moment, just a moment, you feel his presence to your side, capture the warmth radiating off of his figure, and smile. Because it’s all okay when he’s here.

But he’s not. 

You decide to focus on the sound of the railroads, staring down at the speckled floor of the train as the carriage undulates gently, side to side. You ride along, the train’s movements easing your own and you begin to lose yourself once again in the clacks of the rails, mind going blank, until you start to notice the slowing of the sounds. The train’s dance comes to a slow, inviting people to start getting up and shuffle towards the doors. Your heart sinks to your stomach. Not yet, not yet. It can’t be. It’s too soon.

The loudspeaker crackles to life, confirming your worst fears. “Arriving at Iryeong, please stay clear of the doors and exit on the right side of the train.”

Your legs move on their own accord, pulling you to a standing position as you grip the metal post with your life. The train continues to slow, eventually, painstakingly coming to a halt. You wish it never will, that it will continue on with its journey ahead. But it’s too late. The doors slide open, the sounds of the outside world whistle for you, calling you, urging you out of the comfort of the train. You don’t dare move, standing still as passengers trickle out, as the flashing lights start to appear, as the minute at the station starts to come to an end. The doors are closing in five. Four.

You twitch.

Three. Two.

“Wait!”

You rush out the doors, barely escaping the iron clasp of the metals that would’ve devoured you had you been a second too late. Behind you, the steel hisses as the vehicle exits the station, leaving you alone. So utterly alone. 

You’re blessed with a moment of solitude, feeling nothing but the cold air chilling your face, until you realize where you are and why you’re here. 

The bliss of being alone rapidly evaporates, and you’re hit with a speeding truck. The memories flood in; you’re winded, gasping for breath as you’re stormed with images, short clips of him, you, the pair of you. His smile, his laugh, his cheeks, eyes, nose. His breath tickling yours before he leans in for a kiss, his gentle, large hands cupping your face as you close your eyes…

Stop. Get a fucking grip, will you?

You force the color out of your mind as you make your way around the platform, empty now that everyone has gone. Your eyes graze against the pathetic, run-down station: the signs are only partially lit, the electricity having worn out. Your fingers run against the peeling, dirtied paint of the walls, dust bunnies catching onto your gloves. You scoff. This is pathetic. The floor is littered with plastics and old soda bottles, as if nobody’s been here to clean in too long. Graffiti smiles sadly back at you as you scan the fading walls, losing their life by the second. The bricks have faded into a musty brown, drab and uninteresting. Everything is so run down, so tired. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you make your way to the minimart to your right, wanting a beverage to help warm your insides up. 

The doors slide open with a gentle clink, altering the store of your presence. The cashier at the counter looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, barely acknowledging you, before returning to the drama playing on his cracked phone. The shelves are well-stocked, however, in stark contrast to the beaten-down appearance of this whole ordeal. You glide along the aisles, and everything is the same. Your favorite tea is still on the same shelf as it was all those months ago, his favorite gimbap in the bottom left corner of the chiller. Beef and sesame, he’d get, while you’d get a tuna for yourself, clinking your drinks and hearing the hiss of his cola opening, laughing as you made a mess of yourselves, two young fools madly in love. You’d talk, drink, eat for hours, whispering, dreaming and wishing, wondering what was going to come in the future, what you’d name your first puppy, whether you wanted a girl or a boy for your first child. Never would you have ever imagined that it would all end this way.

Stop it.

You grab your bottle of tea violently, almost knocking it over in your hurry to leave. You could no longer stay, not here, suffocating in your memories of him. You erased the gimbap out of your vision, ignoring it as you made your way to the counter, paying for your drink as the half-hearted employee handed you with your change. You mutter a thank you, unsure if he had even heard, and mindlessly make your way out of the store, too focused on keeping someone out of your head. You nearly bang into the glass doors in your haste, looking down and walking as fast as you can. Until your heart stops, that is.

You don’t dare look up, not now. The whole world slows to a stand-still, your gaze sharpening on nothing. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest, your lungs stop working. Electricity charges through the air and you’re left reeling, not knowing what to do. 

Slowly, painfully, your neck raises, muscles straining with all their might. You already know what you’re going to see, who you’re going to see, but the sight of him still shocks you all the same. You nearly spill your drink all over yourself when you finally look up, and your brain goes into overdrive. You’re sure that your mouth is hanging open, jaw slack, but you can’t do anything about it. Your knees buckle, you can’t breathe, suffocating, wanting the ground to swallow you up at this very moment. You want to fall, tumble into an eternal tunnel. You are dizzy, light-headed, going crazy, you swear. You’re going crazy, aren’t you? This can’t be real, can it?

You can’t believe it. You’re drowning, drowning in those chocolate eyes, sinking into his pupils, losing yourself in his gorgeous features. You drink him all in, his own face mirroring yours, in no doubt absolute shock or maybe even despair, his deadly stare making your breath hitch as it once did so long ago. He’d never lost his power over you, after all. The world is suspended around you, all operations ceased as you both continue to stare into each other’s eyes, the tension so palpable that it threatens to devour you whole. Your larynx seems to be glued shut, your tongue a stone in your mouth. There are no words, no way to express this feeling that washes over you upon seeing him again. 

“Y/N…” 

His voice. Your ears ring with his deep baritone, honey to your ears. You can’t help it: you quite literally swoon, despite the circumstances. His voice: it ignites a fire within you, warm tendrils of heat rising up from your stomach. Vibrations send throughout your core, making you lightheaded and sure that you’re about to fall. You remember his timber next to you in the dead of light, comforting you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, it’s okay, it’s okay, breathe, it’s okay, you’re here with me. 

You hug your arms around yourself, trying to keep it all in, retain the strange feeling that was now foreign to you after months of cold. It’s been too long, after all - you’ve gone too long deprived of this humanness, comfort that radiated off of him. 

Things are different now, Y/N.

Yes, they are. Your mind goes berserk once more, considering all of the scenarios. Why is he here? He probably just needs to go to the minimart - no, why would he come all this way, he lives pretty far as well, or maybe he’s waiting on a friend, no, maybe he’s brought a new girlfriend, maybe she’s with him right now waiting to jump out of the shadows. Maybe they’re both exchanging looks right now when I’m not looking, laughing, taunting me, this girl from the past who doesn’t deserve to be here, maybe they all think I’m a joke now, what am I doing, why, why, why?

You’re so lost in your thoughts that when Taehyung addresses you once more, you’re violently jolted out of your mind and nearly fall backwards, body forgetting everything but the sound of his voice.

“Y/N…” he says again, forcing you to look up at him. Your name splinters through the air from his lips, cutting through the frost and straight into your chest; you notice now that his voice seems tired, that he seems tired. 

You finally regain some semblance of control over your frozen tongue, lips moving in an attempt to emit a sound, any sound. Your lips wrap around the sole syllable that comes to you like muscle memory, the only one that you manage to choke out.

“T-Tae...”

Your voice cracks, unable to continue. The prolonged eye-contact has got you weak, his pupils boring into your soul. You look into his eyes, reciprocating, and you notice that maybe they’ve lost their golden sheen, that they no longer twinkle with constellations of stars. And it’s then that you realize: maybe the year has taken a toll on him too. 

Look at what you’ve done to him.

“T-Tae, I, I, I…” you sputter out, guilt flooding your system like a drug. There was nothing you could say, nothing you could tell him to cheat yourself out of the situation or paint yourself in a better light like you’re so used to doing. You’re not used to feeling this powerless, this weak. Taehyung was the only one who saw through the facade, the only one who allowed you to feel vulnerable. You couldn’t lie to him, you knew you couldn’t; there was no wheedling, no bullshitting, no lying yourself out of any sticky situation, which had caused you this whole trouble in the first place. You ran because you were too much of a coward to talk to him, to confide in him. And look where that’s gotten you.

“Why are you here?” he asks, burying his head in his hands. “Y/N, why are you here?”

Why am I here? You don’t really know as well, there’s nothing that you can say to him. Why am I here? To get over him? How are you even going to tell him? He has to think that you’re over him, that it’s done. Stop torturing yourself, and stop dragging him through this mess of your life. Tell him that it’s done.

“I… I came because…” 

Y/N, say something?

“I came because I... I was looking for you.” 

What the fuck?

His head snaps up, his piercing stare catching your gaze once again. “You were looking for me?”

You feel your heart stop.

“Umm… well, I mean, no, but, no, well actually if I think about it now, yeah, yeah I was looking for you,” you stammer, unable to produce a single cohesive line of thought. “I was looking for you because I wanted to tell you that it’s over.”

Your own words are like a dagger twisting into your own heart and vaguely hear a choked sound breaking the awful, awful silence. Until you realize that it’s come from your own mouth, a sob that you hadn’t even realized that you were holding in. 

A moment of charged silence goes by, yet louder than any noise that either of you could’ve let out. Never in your life has silence felt so utterly deafening, and you wish to cover your ears and scream it all out. 

“You’re telling me this now?” Taehyung manages, features distorted in pain. “You’re telling me this now, a whole fucking year after you walk out the door without a single word to me?” 

You look down at the ground, hating, blaming your traitorous mouth for saying something that you hadn’t fully thought through. 

No, Y/N. You have to stop bringing everyone down.

You’ve lost all rational thought when you say, “yes, Taehyung. Yes. I had nothing to say to you then and nothing to say to you now. It’s done and it’s over.”

You couldn’t even say sorry?

The frosty wind brushes over the pair of you, causing you to shiver in your boots. You want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and disappear, pretend that this never happened, that this was all a bad dream.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a security guard watching the whole exchanged with piqued interest. It’s none of your fucking business, you want to scream. It’s none of your fucking business. And yet you’re so humiliated, embarrassed at this whole mess that you’ve made of not only yourself but the situation in its entirety that you cannot muster up any words to merely defend yourself. You want to cry, sob, yell, scream.

“Fine, Y/N, it’s okay. You know what? It’s okay, you don’t owe me an explanation, you don’t owe me anything, not an apology, not a reason, not your love. It’s okay. It’s fine. Maybe you never loved me, saw me in the same way. Maybe I just assumed, maybe it was wrong of me to assume. Maybe I was too optimistic, too in love with you that I had forced myself to believe the story that I had made up in my head, that you were in love with me too. Maybe I had wanted it, wanted you so bad that I had made myself believe it. Made myself believe that you were in love with me.”

Your heart instinctually reaches out to him, drumming feverishly against your fragile ribcage. No, you want to scream. No, Taehyung, you couldn’t be more fucking wrong. He doesn’t know the way your heart beats for him in the dead of night, how the mere thought of him sends shivers down your spine, how every cell in your body, every thread of your being aches, yearns for his presence with every hour, every minute, every second. 

You feel your heart breaking, splintering into thousands, millions of tiny little fragments raining down like shards of glass. It hurts, it hurts like hell. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. Don’t force yourself into anything. There’s no need to anymore. There’s no more need to lie, no more need to pretend that you’re happy.”

“Thank you for telling me the truth.”

It’s not the truth, you want to cry. It’s not. It’s the farthest from it. But you return his look, tight-lipped. You nod, despite the swell of emotions that are threatening to cut you in half at this very moment. 

“You’re welcome.”

He reciprocates your nod and slowly, painfully, tears his eyes from yours. He stands up, gingerly, as if hesitating, and you want to tell him to stop, to sit back down, that you’re lying to him, that you want him, that you want him more than anything in this world. But you don’t, and he continues onto his feet, sparing you one last gaze.

“At least I get to say goodbye,” he says, wistfully. “At least I now have the chance to say goodbye.”

You’re sure that tears are streaming down your face at this point, little trails of ice making their way down your blushed cheeks. Your lips are tight, and you cannot, for the life of you, return his look. 

Before you can fully comprehend what’s happening, you know he’s here, the familiar hold of his arms, your face finding itself nestled on the same spot on his chest, right above his heart. You feel it beat, gently, slowly, under your ear, a comforting rhythm that you’ve too often fallen asleep to, whispered to. Your arms instinctually wrap around his waist, and his head settles on the crook of your neck, the curve of his nose gently kissing your delicate skin. His warmth radiates from under his coat, and you soak it all in, collecting as much as you can. You are two puzzle pieces, a perfect fit, and you will this moment into eternity, searing it into your memory, wishing for the world to stop, stop right now and leave you in this moment forever. You’ve been lost, wandering, and have finally come home.   

But forever doesn’t exist.

You’re struck with a blast of cold at his loss, feeling horribly empty. He steps away from you, and you’re almost certain that you see moisture in his eyes, tears threatening to break free. Every fiber of your being yearns for him, you want to reach out to him, extend the hug, shower him in kisses, make up and forget that this all even happened, but you’re too prideful. You can’t let yourself do this.

“Goodbye, Y/N. Thank you for everything.” 

And just like that, he’s gone.

                                              [    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙    ]

11:42am, March 12 2021

[taehyung]

I miss you. 

I miss you as the seasons come and go, I miss you as I watch the world going to shit, losing all hope. I miss you when the wind blows, taking me along like a pointless man, destined for nowhere. I’ll miss you eternally; I’ll miss you when all the ice melts into the ocean, I’ll miss you when everything’s finally disappeared and there’s utter nothing left for me.

I miss you in the brightest mornings and the darkest nights, when the sun comes out to play and the rain starts pelting down like there’s no tomorrow. I'll miss you in the loneliest winters and the blooming springs.

Everything reminds me of you. I am stuck in this eternal frost without you here; your loss has trapped me into this winter forever. I am slowly losing feel of my limbs as they succumb to the cold around me - everything has frozen into place, trapping me into the confines of this perpetual season. The world is closing in, I have nowhere to go, nothing to do. No longer do I have you to lead me out of this snow, no longer do I have you to hold my hand and bring me warmth through it all.

Why did you have to go?

Baby, did you know how much pain I’d be in when you’d left? Did you know how much it would hurt, how you’ve trapped me into this never-ending arctic, leaving me behind to freeze? 

Did you know when you chose to go?

You’ve left me in ruins, my love. I can’t continue without you. I’m struggling to breathe, suffocating, as the world collapses inwards, threatening to bury me alive. I wait for you everyday, through all of the grief, the pain. I still wait for the day that you come back, that I get to see your face again.

Or maybe I’m a dumbass. I don’t know. Have you changed? Or is it I who has? Or perhaps, us both? I’m still a lovesick fool for you, Y/N, that I can tell you for sure. I can’t stop thinking of you, as the days pass, sun and moon taking their turns in the sky. I’m left, suffering in this darkness, bleakness without you here. I wonder if you’ll still be there at the end, when all ceases to exist. I wonder if I’ll see you again; how much more do I have to wait? How many more sleepless nights will have to pass before I can lay my eyes upon you again? How many days, months, years do I have to hold back before I get to feel you, touch you, kiss you, one more time? 

Or maybe I’m being optimistic. You know what, Y/N, I’ll never see you again, maybe you’re better off without me. Maybe it’s all for the best, maybe it’s time for me to move on, maybe it’s time for you to move on. Maybe it really was not meant to be, maybe you really weren’t the one for me. 

Then why can’t I get you out of my head?

Y/N, I wish I could just forget you. I wish you never existed, I wish I had never gotten to know you. Then it would be so much easier for me. I wish that you had ignored me, that you had turned me down when you had the chance. It would’ve been the most pain that I’d feel at the time, but believe me, it’s nothing compared to this. 

Now I can’t get rid of you, no matter how hard I try. You’re there, you’re there when I lie down and close my eyes for the night, you’re there at work, hiding behind my papers and my laptop, waiting to take me out to lunch. You’re everywhere, baby, you’re in the car, riding shotgun and racing to connect to Bluetooth first, singing at the top of your lungs as we speed down the highway like the reckless teenagers that we were. I see you, hair tangled by the wind, belting out your favorite lyrics out of the roof of my convertible. And I remember thinking, for the hundredth time that night, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. Damnit, Y/N, you’re standing by the mirror every morning when I get ready for my meetings, dainty fingers straightening my tie and planting a kiss on my lips. You got this, lover boy.

You’re there, and then you’re not. You flicker between reality and imagination, I cannot discern whether I’m living in a fever dream or simply hallucinating. You’re slipping through my hands like grains of sand: I’m losing more of you by the second, can’t seem to hold on to you. You’re disappearing, getting further and further away as all I can do is watch helplessly as you fall through my fingers. 

Where are you now, Y/N?

I worry about you, I worry whether you’ve eaten well, whether you’ve slept well, whether you’ve had a good day at the office. Have you seen your parents lately? Have you had some time to yourself over the past days, have you overworked yourself as you often tend to do? Are you taking care of yourself?

Is it selfish of me to be wishing for you, thinking of you after all this time? Tell me, Y/N, is it wrong of me to be wanting you despite it having been over for so long now? You’ve probably moved on by now, considering how long it’s already been. Maybe you’ve met someone new, maybe you’re in love with someone else, maybe I’ve already been replaced with another man in your life.

Maybe I treated you wrong, maybe you didn’t feel like I loved you enough, maybe I didn’t make you feel special enough. I wish, Y/N, I wish that I could turn back time for you, I wish I could go back and be better for you, that I could fix all of the mistakes that I’ve made, wipe all of the tears that you might’ve cried for me, swallow up all of the pain that must’ve been plaguing you, to suck up the hurt that you were feeling back then. I wish you could give me all of the pain, I wish that I could’ve carried it all for you, shielded you from it all like how I should’ve done.

But it’s too late now, isn’t it? 

You’ve met someone else by now, you’re laughing, smiling, whispering with another, kissing someone else’s lips, in love with your new man. And I’m still here, trying to get over you like the pathetic loser that I am. There are so many regrets, so many things that I wish that I could still tell you, so many errors, mistakes that I made. It’s all my fault. I want nothing more than to be able to get on my knees in front of you and apologize for everything. There are so many more words, so many moments that I want nothing more than to be spending with you. 

I’m still in love with you. 

I think I always will be, Y/N. I know it’s selfish of me. I really can’t help it. I’m sorry.

You came into my life like a whirlwind, taking all of me along for the ride. And now that you’re gone, I don’t know what to do with myself no longer. I’ve been swept away with you and my fate will forever be left in your hands. There’s nothing left for me here, not in my work nor art. All that’s left is you. You are the only thing keeping me going now - I live another day, endure another night hoping for you, waiting for the day that I will finally see you again. I open my eyes for you in the mornings, in hopes of laying them upon your figure once more. 

Maybe it’ll all be for nothing, I know. Maybe I’ll never see you again. But there’s nothing left for me, remember? I’m willing to take my chance. For when I finally do see you once more, it will all be worth it.

I miss you, Y/N. I miss you so fucking much. My heart beats for you, my lungs breathe for you. My every cell in my entire being aches so desperately for you, for you and you only. And so I’ll wait for you. I promise. I’ll be here for you, waiting for the day that I get to catch a glimpse of you, to be there when you need a shoulder to cry on, for when you need even the littlest, tiniest thing. I’m ready to give you the world, baby. I’m ready to right all my wrongs, to treat you like the fucking queen that you are. I’m going to treat you the way that you deserve. 

When that time comes, my heart will be happy. When the time comes that I see you again, that I hear your voice again, your laugh again, it’ll be okay. All this pain will fade away to nothing. Don’t worry about me, darling, I’ll always be here, waiting. Waiting for you, until the end. I promise. 

                                                     ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ 

an: i hope you liked it!!!! <3 please please please leave feedback my loves!

[hyuniepot]

the butterfly effect. || chapter one

chapter word count || 3,214

genre || thriller, angst, drama

members || mark lee, na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck, zhong chenle, park jisung

warnings || mentions of death, implications of depression

pairing || fem!reader x jaemin || slight fem!reader x mark

synopsis || you never thought you’d be able to play with fate so easily, especially not through some shady app. but you suddenly must say goodbye to what you know and hello to a new world where everything seems perfect.

a/n || reposting this chapter because tumblr made it glitch out for some reason ;-; praying everything works out this time!! as always, send me a message or an ask to be added to the taglist.

You used to be scared of butterflies.

You used to be scared of butterflies.

You used to be scared of butterflies.

Yes, the thought of it is silly, but you were. You didn’t like bugs at all, the pretty ones included. The thought of them crawling on your skin made you ill. But there was one thing you loved, and that was your friend, Mark. And unlike you, Mark loved butterflies. So when he asked you to go to a butterfly exhibit with him, you sucked it up and said yes.

And you realized that day that butterflies were beautiful. They were harmless, and you giggled as they landed on you, excitedly showing Mark as you conquered your fear of them. Mark helped you conquer a lot of your fears.

And ever since he left, you felt more fearful than ever. Losing him made you realize how fragile life really was, and you hated it. You hated feeling like everything was on the verge of being lost.

“You good?” you jump at the sound of Jaemin’s voice in your ear. You blink, realizing you had completely zoned out. You were sitting next to him on the bus to school. You quickly glance out the window once more. The butterfly you had been admiring was gone.

You nod. “I’m okay. Just tired.” you respond.

Jaemin grins and grabs onto your hand. “Okay. Just checking in.” he says softly. “Um, we’re all gonna get food after school if you wanna come. It’s just a really nice day, it’d be a shame not to go out in it, you know?”

Truth be told, you had been feeling weird lately, and going out with your friends (or, to be more accurate — your boyfriend and his friends that you were friends with by association) was probably what you needed. “That sounds nice.”

The bus had arrived at school. Jaemin stands and picks up his bag, letting you out in front of him. You exit the bus and you’re met with the warm air enveloping you, the sun hitting your eyes and making you squint. Jaemin exits the bus as well, his frame blocking the sun from blinding you. He puts his arm around you, and you grab onto his hand out of instinct.

“Hey guys, got room for more?” you feel another arm around your shoulder.

“Hyuck, no. You’re gross.” Jaemin groans, rolling his eyes.

Hyuck gasps dramatically. “That’s mean. You didn’t even consult with your girlfriend first.”

You smile. “Sorry, Hyuck. But I’m only interested in Jaemin.” you tell him.

Hyuck removes his arm from your shoulder and crosses his arms. “What a low blow…” he mutters. Hyuck was your childhood friend. He grew up with you and Mark. He was like a happy virus, and you weren’t sure if you would have survived losing Mark if he hadn’t been there for you.

You giggle. “Sorry to break your heart.”

“You’d think after months of being rejected he’d give up, but he’s a trooper.” Jaemin adds.

Hyuck rolls his eyes this time. “It’s only because you guys are gross and kissy-kissy in public. We’re in school,” he says, moving away from his spot next to you. He puts himself in between you and Jaemin. “Leave room for Jesus.”

“Oh my god, Hyuck,” you laugh. “You are so annoying. You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” you tell him.

Hyuck grins and sticks out his tongue, turning down a hallway as you guys pass it. “You’re damn right you’re lucky,” he calls. “I’ll see you guys later!”

Jaemin shakes his head, laughing. “He’s such a weirdo. Love him, though.”

You reach your locker and lean against it. “He is. You learn how to deal with him after so long. I’ll meet you outside the entrance doors after school. Do you guys know where you’re going to eat?”

Jaemin leans up against the locker next to yours. “Nah, not yet. We’ll figure it out before the day ends.” he tells you. “You have a good day, alright?” he pecks your cheek.

You smile. “I will.” Jaemin gives you one last grin before turning and continuing down the hallway.

[12:39 p.m.]

“What kind of weird shit do you read at night?” Naeun asks, scowling at Jiwoo.

“It’s not weird!” Jiwoo cries, turning her phone screen towards the dark-haired girl. “There’s real proof!”

“What are you guys talking about?” you ask, taking a seat next to Naeun.

“Apparently there’s an app that can change your fate,” Sungyeon speaks up, holding back a laugh. “Jiwoo found it.”

Jiwoo turns her attention towards you. “See! You’ll believe me, right?” she turns her phone to you.

You furrow your brows and decide not to answer her question. You read the article she had pulled up.

According to the 13-year-old who downloaded the app, ButterFly, his wish came true a mere 3 hours after sending it into the ButterFly HQ. The young boy wished for his cat to come back to life, who had been dead for nearly a month. A few hours later, a cat showed up at the boy’s window. It was identical to the one the boy had.

ButterFly, a self-proclaimed life changing app has been growing in popularity as people hope to change their past. But the real question is, does this app really change a life or is it simply coincidence?

“Jiwoo…” you say softly.

“Come on,” she whines. “I can’t be the only one who thinks it could actually be real!”

“I’m afraid you are.” Sungyeon tells her, taking a bite of her food. “It’s just a coincidence. The only success story they have is something so… normal.”

“If they want to impress me, they have to come up with something way more exciting than a kid finding his cat.” Naeun says.

Jiwoo pouts, turning off her phone. “But… it’d just be so cool if it was real.”

“I agree, but an app should never be trusted for something like that. Plus, if an app had the powers to change the trajectory of someone’s life, wouldn’t the butterfly effect happen?” you asked.

“She’s right,” Naeun says. “Fate is not something to play around with.”

Dejected, Jiwoo surrenders and turns her attention back to finishing her lunch.

“What is that again?” Sungyeon asks. “The butterfly effect?”

“The idea that even tiny changes can make huge and unexpected changes,” you explain. “Like a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a typhoon.”

“Hmm,” Sungyeon hums. “That’s interesting.”

“Yeah, like if Jiwoo was born as a boy, maybe she’d be dating you and you’d be a millionaire for some reason.” Naeun takes a drink from her water bottle.

“What?” Sungyeon cringes.

“Hey, what’s that face for?” Jiwoo cries. “I think I’d be a cute boy.”

You laugh and shake your head as your friends continue to playfully banter about who would be the cutest boy in a parallel universe.

[3:30 p.m.]

You stand by the entrance doors, rocking back and forth on your heels. You try not to look too awkward as you wait for Jaemin and his friends. You wave to Naeun as she leaves, and are relieved when Jaemin appears a few moments later. He immediately spots you and makes his way to you, smiling. His friends, Jeno and Renjun walk behind him with Hyuck, loudly talking about something.

“Hi,” Jaemin says. “Did you have a good day?”

You grin. “It was fine. How about you?” you start walking away from school, taking hold of his hand.

“It was good. I have some annoying homework, but…” he trails off.

Renjun suddenly runs past you, turning around with a disgusted look on his face. “Hyuck, for the last time, I will not hold your hand!”

You turn your head to see a pouty Hyuck. “I just wanted to fit in!”

You laugh and roll your eyes, turning your head back towards the sidewalk in front of you. You all make your way to a nearby restaurant. You sat next to Jaemin in a booth and Jeno, Renjun, and Hyuck all squeezed into the one across from you. You all ordered drinks.

“Oh, Jaemin,” Jeno says, picking his bag up from the floor. He pulls out a notebook and hands it to Jaemin. “Thanks for your notes.”

Jaemin nods. “No problem.”

“Jeno,” Renjun says, shaking his head. “You’re never gonna learn if you keep copying Jaemin’s notes.”

Jeno shrugs. “It’s not like I do it all the time,” he says, defending himself.

“You borrow my notes, too, though… so Renjun kinda has a point.” Hyuck says, leaning back as the waitress sets his drink down in front of him.

You pull out your phone as the boys argue yet again just to see what was happening on your social media. It was mostly random tweets and posts from people you knew, but there was something that caught your eye. It was a promoted post from ButterFly. It had no likes or anything, despite being promoted to your Twitter timeline. And it wasn’t just one. After a few scrolls, you saw another ad from the app, just with a different caption. You saw another one before shaking your head and exiting the app. You opened Instagram, just to be met with the same ad.

Don’t be afraid. Having the chance to change your fate is much more fun than you think.

The caption sent chills down your spine. It didn’t sound like something that should be promoted. You clicked the link the ad provided, but it simply took you to the app store. Your curiosity was getting the best of you. You wanted to download the app, but something was holding you back.

Jaemin nudged your shoulder, making you jump.

“Huh?” you ask. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Do you want something to eat?” Jaemin asked.

“Oh,” you look at the waitress next to the table, notebook and pen in hand. “I’m okay.” you reply.

The waitress nods before turning around and entering the kitchen. You stand up from your seat at the booth. “I need to go to the bathroom.” You shoved your phone into a pocket on your bookbag and rushed to the bathroom.

You shut the door behind you, walking to the sink. You looked at yourself. You looked tired, disheveled. You couldn’t get rid of the feeling you had felt since waking up. You could barely even describe it. It almost felt like dread, but it was more of an unexplainable sadness. Not even being with your friends seemed to help it. You turned on the water, splashing your cheeks with cold water. How had you been so enchanted by the ads of that app that you had become completely oblivious to what was going on around you?

You dried your face before you heard a small knock on the door. “Hey, are you okay?” You opened the door and saw Jaemin. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, sorry…” you say, stepping out of the bathroom.

“You’ve been acting… strange today. No offense,” Jaemin says.

“None taken,” you sigh. “I know I have. Everything just feels off today, I don’t know why.” You tell him.

Jaemin puts his arm around you and you both begin walking back to the table the others were at. “It’s okay to feel that way… I think everyone does. It just sucks to watch you feel so sad.” Jaemin says. He sighs. “I really hope you start feeling better soon. I miss hearing your laugh.”

You smile. “I miss it too,” you say, reaching the table. Jaemin scoots into the booth and you follow after. You try to ignore the horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach and have a good afternoon with your friends. You ended up starting to feel better. You stole some of Hyuck’s food after panicking and not ordering some of your own. You laughed at everyone’s jokes and dumb arguments, and before you knew it, an hour had passed. You all decided to stop being a bother and leave. You waited outside as everyone paid; Jaemin offered to pay for you since all you got was a drink.

“Are you heading home?” Jeno asked Jaemin.

He nodded. “I’m gonna walk this one home and then head home myself,” he said, resting his head on yours.

Jeno nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Renjun and Hyuck also waved goodbye. They were all going to Jeno’s. You went your separate ways, and as much as you loved them, you were glad to be alone with Jaemin. Your house wasn’t too far, but even if it was just a few minutes, you were glad to be with him.

“Are you just gonna go home and do homework?” you ask.

Jaemin nods. “Yeah… it’s probably gonna take some time.”

“Sorry baby,” you say. “I’ll facetime you once my mom gets home,” you tell him.

Your mother worked late, so you were in charge of looking after your younger brother, Jisung, until she got home. He was only 2 years younger than you, so it’s not like it was hard, but you still felt obligated to keep tabs on him.

“You don’t have to,” he says. You both walked through your driveway and to the front door. “But if you want to, however… I would love it if you did.” he grins as you open your door.

“Well, then expect a call later,” you say, grabbing both of his hands.

Jaemin leans in and kisses you, and for a second, it feels like everything is okay.

“Gross!” a voice yells. You jump away from Jaemin and turn around.

“Jisung, your sister and her boyfriend are smashing their faces together again!” Chenle, who was standing in the kitchen, yells. Jisung’s pokes his head around the corner.

“Shut up, Chenle.” you say, grinning. “You’re not a child, kissing isn’t that weird.”

You step inside, taking off your shoes and setting your bag down. Jaemin steps in behind you and walks to the kitchen, putting Chenle in a headlock. “You little jerk,” Jaemin teases.

Chenle giggles, trying to get out of Jaemin’s arms. You walk to the living room where Jisung had gone, continuing his video game. “How was your day?” you ask.

“Good.” Jisung says, eyes still glued to the TV.

“That’s good,” you look back to the kitchen and see that Jaemin has released Chenle, and is now talking to him. “Do you have homework?”

Jisung nods. You watch the TV, and watch his character die. Jisung sighs and sets the controller down, turning to you. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Can you try and get it done before Mom gets home?” you ask.

Jisung nods. “Yeah… Chenle and I have the same homework so we can do it together, I guess.”

You nod and go back to the kitchen. Talking to Jisung sometimes felt like talking to a brick wall. “I better get going.” Jaemin says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You walk him to the door. “I’ll see you.” you grab both of his hands again, never wanting to let go. Jaemin kisses your cheek and turns.

You bite your lip. Why was this horrible feeling back so suddenly? “Hey, Jaemin?” you call after him. He turns back around.

“I love you.” you say, almost too softly. For a second you weren’t even sure if he heard you, but he gives you that classic smile, the one that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

“I love you too.” he blows you a kiss before walking away.

[9:41 p.m.]

You sat down on your bed, freshly out of the shower. Since Jaemin had left, you helped Jisung and Chenle with their homework, did your own homework, and facetimed Jaemin for a bit while he did his. And then you took a long shower in an attempt to clear your head.

You look around for your phone, finding it hidden in a blanket on your bed. You answer some unread texts and then open Instagram again. You’re met with the same ads from before. Your heart drops.

Without thinking you click the link again, pressing download. It downloaded in no time. Your thumb hovers over the icon of the app. The moment you muster up the courage to click on it, there’s a knock at your bedroom door.

You jump, startled, but get up and open it.

Your mother’s exhausted face greets you. “Hi sweetie. I’m going straight to bed, so… goodnight. I hope you had a good day.”

You smile, shakily exhaling. “Today was fine. Goodnight.” you say, not wanting to delay her sleep anymore.

She gives you a warm smile before going to her room. Before you close your door, Jisung appears from the staircase nearby. “You going to bed?” he asks.

“Uh,” you open your phone, looking at the time.

ButterFlyHQ

Greetings. What is your name?

You ignore the notification. “No… but I’ll probably be in my room for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, okay… well… goodnight then.” he says, going to his room which was right across from yours. He closes the door without another word.

You press your lips together and shut your door as well, laying down on your bed. You opened your phone and clicked on ButterFly.

1 Unread Message

ButterFlyHQ

Greetings. What is your name?

You hesitantly enter your name. You regret it as soon as you responded — maybe you should’ve used a fake name.

ButterFlyHQ

Hello, (y/n).

What do you wish to change?

Wow, straight to the point… You think.

You wonder what you should enter. You try to think of the most outrageous thing you could think of, something completely unimaginable. Something that would surely trigger the Butterfly Effect.

There were things you actually wanted to change.

You wanted your mother to stop being so stressed.

You wanted Jisung to be happy.

You wanted to stop feeling so insecure about you and Jaemin’s relationship.

You wanted Jiwoo to finally pass trigonometry.

Okay, the last one was a bit dumb, and actually imaginable. And then you thought of the most impossible thing.

You

I want my best friend to come back to life.

You almost laugh as you sent the message. But your faint smile fades at the immediate response.

ButterFlyHQ

What is your best friend’s name?

This was suddenly feeling too personal.

You

Mark Lee.

ButterFlyHQ

Understood. We will try our best to meet your request.

You stare at your phone. Now what? You turned your phone off and set it on your nightstand, plugging it into the charger before laying down and staring at the ceiling.

Great, now some random stranger knows some girl thinks an app can bring her friend back from the grave.

When you got the chance, you were gonna chew Jiwoo out for bringing that app up. You get under the covers and close your eyes, trying to sleep. But your mind was racing. You finally feel yourself drifting, your mind finally giving you some peace.

Your last thought before you finally fall asleep is Jaemin. You just wanted to be with him again, his arm around your shoulder, his fingers lazily intertwined with yours. You felt yourself smiling before finally falling asleep, unknowingly saying goodbye to your last normal day.

[speedypandaweasel]

One Big Adventure - a Wilford Warfstache and Abe story (Non-Ship) (2,914 Words)

Thank you for the request @canceltheact! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

If you would like to submit a request, see the information at the Masterlist and submit through the Q and A!

PSA - THIS IS NOT A SHIP oke, let us begin...

Dazed images fog up the minds of two *very* hungover men as they stagger their way up to the apartment. Abe fumbles his way through the door and over strewn clothes. He continues on and manages to put together the kaleidoscope of scenery that is right in front of him. To his left, a saggy sofa sits and a cheap TV dangerously hangs off the stripping wallpaper by a thread. To his right, a grimy kitchen is on display which even the worst chef in the world wouldn't waste his time in. The other man, however, is blabbering away, slurring his words like a car on an icy motorway. "HA!, I tell *hick* you Abe, I'm so glad I remembered you, you see *hick*, I can't even remember where I put my-" Aaaand he's gone. His body moulds into the cushions that poorly support his droopy frame, and his scuffed platform boots dangle over the side. Abe smiles, slightly soberer than before. Who would have thought that this stock still of a man, whose only aesthetics were the colour beige and veterans, would somehow have a goofy, lighter side to him? All the criminals he's met and caught among the years...

Hold up, has he met anyone? He can't remember any experiences where he HAS met any, so why did he think that? Hm, must be the Tequila talking. Abe hopscotches over the empty Wine and Martini bottles that are decorated across the stained carpet. Damm, William has not been taking care of himself. Mind you, neither has he so he can't really say anything. He arrives into the walk-in kitchen and opens a dusty cupboard. His tired eyes only meet with shot and tumbler glasses.

How much does this Man drink!? Shuffling used plates and greasy cutlery out of the way, he fills a scotch glass with water. Dowsing the liquid felt like heaven. His exhausted physique felt like a body that's been stuck in the desert for a considerable amount of time and didn't know it needed water to survive. Oh, now he feels the headache coming on.

Reader, you know when water tastes funny? It's because your brain hasn't been receiving enough H20 because you've been drinking too many energy drinks. Yeah, that feeling is exactly what Abe is feeling right now. CONTINUING ON!

The scotch glass watches from the draining board whilst the Detective plays the quietest game of the floor is lava, whilst the moustached man is making much more noise. He manages to reach a corridor which he thinks leads towards the bedroom and tiptoes down the tight hall to find a vacant room. On the way, he passes another room. It was Barnum's. His mind was split in two, Does he go in? Or stay out? Through the crack in the door, the catastrophe has indeed spread into his sleeping quarters. A mountain of flamboyant disco clothes gathers dust in front of his Chester draws, the bed's not made and more liquor bottles are having a social gathering on top. Oh William, you may be a murderer, but you need to prioritise yourself. He takes a last look at his passed out flatmate down the hallway, before shutting the guest bedroom door. Grey. It's all he's met with. Much like his exterior. He slips his shoes off and starts to unbutton his off-white shirt. he runs a hand down his chest and over the scar. How the Hell did he survive that? He can't be bothered to go into it right now, he's too tired. He snuggles into bed and does the infamous cold bed dance.

You know the one.

Abe gets out of the tempting bed once more and walks back into the living room. He creeps over to William, the man's mouth catching flies. He carefully takes his enormous shoes off and places them on the floor. Barnum's mismatch socks disappear underneath the blanket. "Night William."

~ A gorgeous smell of Breakfast wanders its way through the apartment and Abe groggily wakes up. His eyes peel open and with a yawn, he trudges through to the living room. Remembering from earlier this morning, he needed to position himself for his dance routine around the non-existent floor. "What are you doing my main man?" Barnum brightly asks, a hearty chuckle accompanies the question. Resided in the pristine kitchen, his big, strong hand holds a Skillet and two China plates are centred on the pebble grey marble island. Abe, however, is currently squatting as though he was playing a game of leapfrog with some imaginary friends. The Detective goes to jump but then is taken back at the sight. The apartment is now spick and span, no more Wine Bottles, no more strewn clothes. The windows are tied wide open and it overlooks the sketchy neighbourhood that they reside in. "How did you do this?" "Do what?" "You know, clean up this quickly?" Barnum checks his watch. It's 7:30 am "Oh well you see, I ironed a nice pair of jeans and found a lovely dandelion coloured shirt. Accompanied by some rainbow braces I think I look quite dashing don't you think so?" "No William, I-I mean the Apartm-AAH!" Abe clings his hand over his head, damm this- "Headache is killing you?" William slides a glass of water over with an Aspirin pill. "And no, I didn't clean the apartment, she did." Wilford looks- wait, why are you looking at me!? "Anywho, we need to get going my slightly hungover companion! But first, breakfast!" Wilford sets a serving plate down of a full English Breakfast: Sausage, an Egg, two cooked Tomatoes, Bacon rashes, Baked Beans and a slice of Buttered Toast. Wow. He didn't know William could cook? The two men got stuck in right away and the TV is turned on. Two bright and very similar faces appear on the screen "Badgers the secret Killer?... And now for the weather, Jim?"

The camera pans to, what they believe, is Jim. Their face resembles a deer in headlights. "I swear, they don't know what they're doing. It's hilarious!" The Detective says with a mouthful of Toast. Barnum laughs, wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes a swig of his Orange juice. "Right! I mean, who is their boss anyway?!" The men eat and laugh their way through their plates talking about what topics they would cover if they were reporters. After a while, they both recline back into their bar stools and the cook starts to tidy up the dirty dishes. "Oh, no, let me do it. It's the least I can do." "You're alright my man, I've got this. Besides, you need to freshen up!" "But whe-'" "First door on your left"

They share a light chuckle. "Thanks Wilford, I really appreciated that," Abe says before going back down the hallway, whilst Wilford rolls his sleeves up and starts to clean the less-silver cutlery.

He smiles. That's the first time he's ever said that to him. "No problem Abe."

~

The passenger door slams shut on the Detective's Vintage SUV and Wiford pulls out a gigantic map from his pocket. This map includes hundreds of paths scrawled with crayons and a hint of Martini can be smelt.

"Are you sure, you know where you're going?" Abe questions. Judging by what that map reads, they are going to get lost very easily.

"Of course I know where I'm going! I am Wilford Motherloving Warftsache after all." A pang of guilt hits the Detective, he genuinely can't remember who he was.

"Ok, Wil, you can drive."

After playing at least 3 rounds of rock paper scissors, or when Wilford won, Abe hesitantly let the murderer drive. God knows where though.

Wilford excitedly thrust the keys into the ignition. He couldn't wait for what the day entailed!

"Careful Willford, you're gonna break the keys!" Abe says through gritted teeth.

"Oh pah-lease! I know how to drive" he retaliates. His brown boot floors the pedal and reverses straight into the iron fence.

"Yep, it's working."

The Detectives face, now pale, grips tighter onto his seatbelt and his feet are glued to the floor. "Wil, of course it's working. Now, step on the ga- nope, that's the brakes Wilford."

Pedestrians quiver in fear as they see a horribly driven brown vehicle screech to a stop and then start again. They have to clamp down on their ears as the monster of a car drives past them down the alleyway, swerving left and right much like the driver's speech the other night.

The SUV survives to the end of the road and dents a stop sign perched, well once, straight on the kerb.

"Will, which route are we taking?" Abe asks as he takes the map from the driver's hands.

"It's the one marked Highway of Life, it's gonna be a good one, trust you me."

"Well, this has got off to a surprising start so why not go for an adventure?" Abe says. He's given up at this point.

~

"LIFE IS A HIIIGHHWWAYY! I WWAAANNNA RRIIDDEE IIT ALLL NIIGGHTT LOOOOONNGG!" The two pop stars start belting out of the car as Wilford drives them to their last stop. Who would have thought that two polar opposites positions of the law would be in the same car together, let alone blasting Disney songs out of the car.

Wilford's hair whips away from his face as the SUV's top winds down.

"LIFE NEEDS A BIT OF MADNESS EH ABE?"

"HELL YEAH IT DOES"

The Afternoon sun blazes down onto their blacked-out sunglasses and the Golden Gate bridge paints a picture for the Detective that prescribes him with a carefree attitude.

Life was his to choose and he was here for it.

~

The SUV turns off the Highway onto Richmond Street. The Afternoon sun glowing dimmer.

Just in time.

Now reader, if you haven't read my WKM Tumblr Song series, then you won't understand this next section.

The SUV passes bountiful shrubberies and picket fences. Cherry Blossom dust drift its way into the car and Wilford starts to tear up.

"You ok Buddy?"

"Yeah, I'm ok." After all his years of interrogation, Abe knows that that answer was a lie. Yet, he didn't want to push it.

The car comes to a halt and is parked underneath a summer coated oak tree.

"Why'd we stop?"

"I want to show you something."

Abe opens the vintage door and steps out. In front of him, wildflowers and grass sway on the cliffs breeze and small pink flowers grow on its edge. Overhead, a sea glistens with sunlight rays and pink and amber hues dust the sky.

Man, this is enough to make a grown man cry.

The cars driver door can be heard shutting and a shadow walks up behind him. An intimate silence roots itself between the two men.

"You may be wondering why I brought you here."

Abe nods, still looking forward, yet intriguingly listening.

The man sighs, "I used to come here all the time as a young lad. We used to have picnics and dance until dawn. We were so free up here. Away from life, away from Duty, and she was away from Him, that was all that mattered. "

His voice breaks.

"But things change, people change and suddenly, I couldn't do that anymore.

That's why I want you to see it."

Wilford wanders over to their spot and picks up one of the pink flowers sprouting through the grass.

"You may have thought of us as the scum of the Earth Detective. But there are two sides to every story."

The Detective joins the Murderer and puts a hand on his shoulder.

Wilford chuckles. The last time he was here, he was completely and utterly alone. He was like- like a freshly born fawn still trying to find his legs into this world that didn't make sense.

But now...but now things are looking a little brighter.

"If there is anything I can do to make it up to you, just name it."

"You can't do anything really, it's just the way this messed up world works."

The two friends sit down in the grass, making fresh new imprints into the cliff edge, next to two fading ones.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure" "How many people have I killed?"

...

That question lingers in the air for an uncomfortably long time. All that can be heard are the lapping of the waves below them and the occasional swallow talking in the trees.

...

"I don- don't know Wilford," Abe breaks the silence, "I should know, but I-I don't.

...

Abe looks at Wilford, his broken and tear-stained eyes manage to glance back before returning to look out at the sunset.

Abe must do something here. But what? He said himself that nothing can be done so what can he do?

He reminisces on the day they were reunited. So much anger, so much confusion. But Wil was so cheerful, not a care in the world!

Now look at him.

And it was all his fault. If only he didn't get involved...

A second flashes by and Abe does something he should have done the second Will did it.

He hugs Him.

...

"I'm sorry Will."

...

Moments cling on for seems like forever and the embrace is broken. The two tear-stained friends look up.

The afternoon sun has now gone beneath the horizon and is replaced with the all too familiar twilight scenery, which glows softly for miles and miles, each star a lantern that has been entrusted with keeping something special.

"There was another reason why I wanted to bring you here."

Wilford wipes his eyes with his sleeve. "Do you see that star, the big one?"

"Yeah" "That's the Evening Star. That Star is the reason why I have hope. And now I want to share that hope with you. I know we got off the wrong foot but since we're in the same boat now, I think it's time I opened up about where I've actually been."

Abe swallows, this man is truly broken, and he can't do anything about it.

"Thank you for trusting me." "We're not done yet. It's your turn!" "What?" "Make a wish." Cautiously, the Detective slowly stands up from his permanent grassy imprint and walks towards the cliff's edge. The man looks around and sees only patches of shrubbery and wildflowers.

And his newfound friend encouraging him to proceed.

He clasps his hands together and wishes hard. His eyes scrunch together as he becomes a child once more as well. His once tight shoulders have finally become relaxed. After so many years of searching for answers, he doesn't need to worry any more.

A single tear is swept away from the Murderers face as he watches on from the patch of grass. He remembers that feeling and the dream he wished for all those years ago. Yet now, his wish is slowly changing.

Granted, he can't remember who he was but bully does he know what he wants to be. And being here for him, at this very moment, is a wonderful way to start it.

Abe's hands fall to his side and he stares out onto the ever stretching view. His feet are glued to the spot and his mind is only fixated on that one goal. Wilford slowly joins his side, already having a hunch on what he dearly wants.

"What did you wish for?" The Murderer asks.

The Detective huckles, "Now if I told you, it wouldn't come true, would it?"

"Very true my friend."

Little did the men know that their newly found wishes were the same.

"Don't you mean, Best Friend?"

CRACK

The heartwarming moment is abruptly stopped by the sky blasting wide open and millions of sounds exploding across the cliff. The light breeze has rapidly sped up into a storm and is propelling thick gusts upon the two.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL NOW!?" Wilford yells at the hole, completely unfazed.

"YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS!?" Abe yells at his Friend.

"OF COURSE I DO, IT'S TIME FOR WORK."

"WORK!? SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE A JOB!?"

"WE ALL HAVE A JOB - WE'RE ACTORS! I'LL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING IF WE DON'T GET SPLIT UP."

"IF WE DONT GET SPLIT UP!? WHERE ARE WE GOING!?" "I HAVE NO IDEA! BUT THAT'S THE FUN OF IT! AFTER THREE, WE WALK IN."

"ARE YOU CRAZY WE'RE GONNA FALL!"

"TRUST ME, WE WON'T."

Wilford grabs Abe's hand and he stares at him. Abe stares back, fear-stricken. Finally, he nods.

"TOGETHER?" "TOGETHER."

"ONE"

"TWO"

"THREE!!!!" The two Actors charge straight over the cliff and into the blinding light.

~

Wilford finds himself in some kind of leather chair with neon lights surrounding him. A script in one and his prop gun in his other.

No pants on, no wonder he feels too comfortable.

He scans his scene and sees his co-actor, Kathryn, running her lines on the other side of the room.

A chair sits opposite him and behind that, a red T-30 minutes until showtime sign is displayed for him.

Abe, however, isn't needed on set yet. His adventure hasn't begun.

But both of their characters will have to cross at one point or another, it's just a matter of time. Yet for a fact, no one can edit their Friendship; Their Joint Wish.

Because, as they say, Life is a road that you're travelling on, when there's one day here, and the next day gone.

[salty-dracon]

Liveblog of Deltarune Chapter 2, in one Tumblr post.

DELTARUNE SPOILERS

Checking out Deltarune Chapter 2.

Does time move differently in the two worlds? I hope not.

Ralsei is so nice to us. Thank you Ralsei for your rooms made specially for us, and totally not over the course of 10 years.

Thanks Toby Fox dog for.... something.

The Internet world reminds me of Mega Man. Is this place like Web 1.0 with those giant cathode ray monitors or is it something else? The mention of Space Pinball makes me think it's the Windows XP era.

I just noticed that a sparkle flew off from us when we jumped into the new world. Was that our second uninvited guest, Rouxls?

Everything about Queen makes me want to punch her stupid face in. Good villain, I guess? Ughhhh she's so mean but in a 16 year old on a chat room kind of way.

The Werewires have such a good design.

Queen attempts to beat us at a fighting game, but with the power of friendship we got through it. "Bosom or Perish" lol.

It's not a highly emotional game without a dancing sequence by a highly irritating musician.

Yeah they're hinting at the Queen having a sidekick and him speaking in a way no one can understand. So it's probably Rouxls.

The enemies in this area look so good.

BERDLY!!! I have a voice in my head for this guy and it's Byakuya Togami, even now.

Triple trucies!

If I ever acted like Berdly towards you, I'm sorry. Also people who act like him suck. I want to draw him doing the Virgin Walk now.

Gamer's Delight of course it is.

I finally figured out the words for what Berdly is. An isekai protagonist. That's it. He's an isekai protagonist.

Hmm. Spamton. Don't like that.

Noelle's honest discussion about the city is a nice break from all the silly shit. I'm glad she could experience it. Why was she spelling out “December” on her walk, though.

I ONLY PLAY MOBILE GAMES

Wow, I didn't expect a shout-out to Kiwami Japan, aka the knife guy who makes knives out of increasingly weird stuff.

Berdly being ass at solving puzzles is giving me, who is good at solving puzzles, life. “Face it, you’re just as big a dumbass as the rest of us!” got me. The backstory for him is interesting, though. Once again, the word “December”, alongside a silhouette of Noelle. Hmm.

I knew those screams weren’t Ralsei! Lol, they were some of those giant conefaced plague doctor Phoenix Wright things!

The Tasque Manager enemy looks so cool.

Oh god. Blue checkmarks.

Is Nubert supposed to be a reference to Omori’s “Humphrey”?

I deeply adore all of the old computer references, like “Mouse Wheel” and the windows XP background behind Queen.

Thanks Toby Fox dog.

That post where it’s three versions of “has food thrown at me, inexplicably eats it all instantly” is what Susie just did. Like the “witch hitting me while i’m sitting in her cauldron: stop eating all the potatoes” one and the “woman throws a drink at me but i swallow it all perfectly” one. That’s what Susie just did.

mmmmmm battery acid and hands and logic puzzles

There’s Rouxls. He’s a pirate now.

GOD DAMMIT!!!

Noooooo poor Noelle. YESSS SUSIE COMING IN CLUTCH

amazing. pre character development noelle lent her a candy cane and susie payed it back by not picking on her. *slow, sarcastic clapping* bravo, asshole. bravo. fuck you

Noelle :’)

Wait a minute. Wait wait wait wait wait. Noelle calls her sister Dess. Noelle stayed silent when one of the words in the spelling bee was “December”. Noelle is Christmas-themed, with her being a reindeer, her name sounding like “Noel”, and mentions of Christmas songs and candy-cane pencils. Is it possible that Noelle’s sister’s name is December, and she lost December to an accident or something?

This is the funniest conversation ever, in the Ferris wheel. Aww. I hope it ends well for both of them. Ah. Berdly came to ruin it.

NOELLE????? WHAT????

This possible revelation that Noelle can strengthen the Darkness, and that a lot of this world is built on her own memories of this person named “December”, leads me to believe that actually, all of the worlds here are built from the memories of a person, in this case, this world was built from Noelle’s memories. But whose memories are the first world built from? Susie’s? Kris’s? Ralsei’s?

All of these boss themes ROCK!

Yeah as I thought, Queen is only acting to save Noelle.

What does the Knight have to do with any of this? There was a Knight in Undertale, though, I think- it was that guy lying on a wall near one of the shops. So the Knight apparently created the darkness through the power of determination, and with determination, which Lightners all possess, anyone can make more darkness. Hmm.

Epic final boss fight against Queen! I wondered what mechanic they'd bring back- turns out it was the fighting game. Despite being an asshole it seems she didn't really want anything bad to happen.

The Roaring is going to be the endgame I guess. Maybe it's the reason all the monsters are underground in Undertale?

And everything was back to normal!

At least Lancer's got a new mom now. Lancer's dad does not like her one bit.

Sans. Good to see you. Funny as ever. Cracking fourth wall breaking jokes about how goddamn long this part took to make.

There it is again. Kris's soul acting on its own- or, by the player's influence. If the last chapter suggested that Kris's soul wasn't ours to control, why did it let us do so again?

What the HELL? So Kris sometimes pulls her soul out, shuts it away, and lets it sit there while she goes out and does her own thing? That explains the connection between last chapter and this one. There's no discontinuity. We just didn't see her put her soul back into her own body.

So what Kris did just now was slash the cars tires. Why?

Oh. And there's the connection between The Knight and the events of this story. Kris, or at least her body without her soul, is the one causing these fountain of darkness to appear. That's why Kris, with her soul, is the only one who can seal them. Kris is the knight.

[sereineity]

how many more sleepless nights?

genre: nonidol!au, ANGST, slight fluff

summary: a year is a long time, isn’t it? you’ve spent yours stuck in an eternal, monochrome winter. a surprise encounter derails all of your plans: feelings fade… or do they, really?

pairing: taehyung x reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: swearing, terrible terrible angst (im sorry!), heartbreak, implied smut, angsty flashbacks :(

a/n: hi everyone! this is my very first fic on tumblr and i really hope you enjoy! please listen to spring day and scenery to really get into the feels - i hope you lose yourself in this little slice of a seoul winter :’) also i do have a storyline planned if you enjoy this little piece and could potentially even make this a series aah! please leave comments and constructive criticism - i’d love to grow as a writer! (@chateautae i finally did it!!!!!!)

[    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙      ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙    ]

09:17am, december 17, 2020

It’s been a year since you last saw him. A year of emptiness, hollowness, blankness. A year since you turned your back, leaving without a goodbye. It’s been a year since you’ve walked out his front door, the same one that you’d find yourself visiting and revisiting when you knew he wasn’t home.

It’s been a year since you last felt some semblance of happiness, a year since you’ve let out a genuine laugh, smiled from cheek-to-cheek. It’s been a year devoid of warmth: you shivered under the embrace of the summer sun, no longer noticed the blooming flowers that you had once loved so much. The world lost all its color. Fading into a bleak grayscale so far away, unreachable. No longer did you walk with a spring in your step, no longer did your eyes glimmer with galaxies that you’d once built with him. You were empty, a ship lost in the depths of the dark oceans. Floating, barely surviving, with no set destination. All you saw were never-ending, infinite oceans in all directions. No escape, no lighthouse. Just you. Alone. Pointless.

Your heart aches for him, the echo of a honeyed baritone, the ghost of his warm, muscular arms wrapped around your shoulders.

It’s for the best, you had thought. It’s for the best.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the thoughts out of your mind. There was too much, too many feelings, pent-up emotions. You weren’t a woman of emotions, never were, swore to never be, until you had met him. And he had changed everything.

Stop. This is getting ridiculous.

You needed to get on with your life, you think. There are too many things to think about, so many better thoughts requiring your attention. What were you doing, wasting your energy on him? It was time, you had decided, to end things once and for all.

The ticket machine snaps you out of your reverie, demanding it get paid. How much did the trip cost? You’ve forced yourself to forget, holed up all the memories too far into the shadows of your mind in your sheer desperation to evade the pain. You slot in a W10,000 bill, way too much, but better than having to remember. The machine happily eats up the cash, returning your card and sending you on your way.

You navigate the platforms, seeing the brightly-lit signs: Incheon line, Suin line, Bundang line. Then you see it, Platform 6, Gyeongwon line. South-bound to Soyosan, stopping at Iryeong. Your heart thumps, stomach twists, and you feel like throwing up. How many times had you once ascended these very steps with him, hand-in-hand, smiling to one another? How many times had you raced up these stairs, trying to get to the platform first? It’s too much, and you want to run. Run away from this place, from the thoughts and feelings.

No. You need this.

The winter air roughly brushes against your cheeks, hurrying you along.

What are you so afraid of?

Everything, you think. Everything. You’ve bound your heart in chains and locks, plastered it with thousands of bandages, one on top of the other. You’ve holed it away, willed it out of existence. You’re afraid of the memories, the emotions. You’re afraid of yourself.

Go. Just go. Get it over with.

You force your feet to move, one after another. You don’t think, you just move. Move onto the platform, move onto the train. You don’t realize that you’ve boarded the machine until you hear an all-too-familiar voice on the loudspeaker.

“This is the Special Rapid Train, on the Gyeongwon line, headed for Sosoyan. We will be stopping at Seokgye, Wolgye, Dobong and Iryeong. Please stay clear of the sliding doors!”

You vaguely see the blinking of lights and hear the shutting of the doors. The train picks up speed, clicking against the railroads. You are blank, a passenger on an endless journey. You sway when the train sways, stop when it stops. You don’t know how many stops have passed, having lost yourself in the familiar nothingness that had hollowed you out for the past year, until the speakers announce something about the next station being Dobong. You’re near, you realize. Too near.

Too soon does the train halt, birthing out and collecting new passengers as seats empty and taken once more in a matter of seconds. You watch this interchange with a bitter smile: how quickly he must have replaced you after you’d left, how he must’ve taken in another in your place.

Stop it.

Too engrossed in your thoughts, you don’t notice the closing of the doors and the blinking of the lights until you hear the loud system once more as the train starts to accelerate.

“Iryeong, Iryeong. Our next stop is Iryeong, please get off on the right side of the train.”

You are left suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, watching as snow paints the ground white. The houses blur into trees and back into villages as you stare out the window, and you start to remember. You remember your hands intertwined, dancing in the snow, the click of a camera as the melodies of your laughs twirling in the air. You remember the snugness of his embrace, his earthy cologne, his smile, his lips pressed against yours…

Stop.

You tear your gaze away from the glass, staring down at your gloved hands fiddling in your lap. It’s been a year. It’s laughable how much and how little has changed. You’re different, yes, but yet so painfully similar to the girl who ran away. It’s funny how much of a difference, or lack thereof, a year can make, you think. It’s certainly been hard on you, and you find yourself wondering about him, about how maybe the year has changed him, how he’s doing, if he’s eating well, if…

Stop.

You’re hopeless, aren’t you?

You sigh and shut your eyes. You’re going crazy. Or maybe you’ve always been crazy. Your thoughts are feverish, a maelstrom in your mind. Involuntarily, you notice your feet rapidly tapping the metal bar to your side, vibrating against the pole. You feel the ghost of a touch on your thigh, hear the empty shell of his words, breathe, Y/N, breathe. What’s got you all worked up? And for a moment, just a moment, you feel his presence to your side, capture the warmth radiating off of his figure, and smile. Because it’s all okay when he’s here.

But he’s not.

You decide to focus on the sound of the railroads, staring down at the speckled floor of the train as the carriage undulates gently, side to side. You ride along, the train’s movements easing your own and you begin to lose yourself once again in the clacks of the rails, mind going blank, until you start to notice the slowing of the sounds. The train’s dance comes to a slow, inviting people to start getting up and shuffle towards the doors. Your heart sinks to your stomach. Not yet, not yet. It can’t be. It’s too soon.

The loudspeaker crackles to life, confirming your worst fears. “Arriving at Iryeong, please stay clear of the doors and exit on the right side of the train.”

Your legs move on their own accord, pulling you to a standing position as you grip the metal post with your life. The train continues to slow, eventually, painstakingly coming to a halt. You wish it never will, that it will continue on with its journey ahead. But it’s too late. The doors slide open, the sounds of the outside world whistle for you, calling you, urging you out of the comfort of the train. You don’t dare move, standing still as passengers trickle out, as the flashing lights start to appear, as the minute at the station starts to come to an end. The doors are closing in five. Four.

You twitch.

Three. Two.

“Wait!”

You rush out the doors, barely escaping the iron clasp of the metals that would’ve devoured you had you been a second too late. Behind you, the steel hisses as the vehicle exits the station, leaving you alone. So utterly alone.

You’re blessed with a moment of solitude, feeling nothing but the cold air chilling your face, until you realize where you are and why you’re here.

The bliss of being alone rapidly evaporates, and you’re hit with a speeding truck. The memories flood in; you’re winded, gasping for breath as you’re stormed with images, short clips of him, you, the pair of you. His smile, his laugh, his cheeks, eyes, nose. His breath tickling yours before he leans in for a kiss, his gentle, large hands cupping your face as you close your eyes…

Stop. Get a fucking grip, will you?

You force the color out of your mind as you make your way around the platform, empty now that everyone has gone. Your eyes graze against the pathetic, run-down station: the signs are only partially lit, the electricity having worn out. Your fingers run against the peeling, dirtied paint of the walls, dust bunnies catching onto your gloves. You scoff. This is pathetic. The floor is littered with plastics and old soda bottles, as if nobody’s been here to clean in too long. Graffiti smiles sadly back at you as you scan the fading walls, losing their life by the second. The bricks have faded into a musty brown, drab and uninteresting. Everything is so run down, so tired. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you make your way to the minimart to your right, wanting a beverage to help warm your insides up.

The doors slide open with a gentle clink, altering the store of your presence. The cashier at the counter looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, barely acknowledging you, before returning to the drama playing on his cracked phone. The shelves are well-stocked, however, in stark contrast to the beaten-down appearance of this whole ordeal. You glide along the aisles, and everything is the same. Your favorite tea is still on the same shelf as it was all those months ago, his favorite gimbap in the bottom left corner of the chiller. Beef and sesame, he’d get, while you’d get a tuna for yourself, clinking your drinks and hearing the hiss of his cola opening, laughing as you made a mess of yourselves, two young fools madly in love. You’d talk, drink, eat for hours, whispering, dreaming and wishing, wondering what was going to come in the future, what you’d name your first puppy, whether you wanted a girl or a boy for your first child. Never would you have ever imagined that it would all end this way.

Stop it.

You grab your bottle of tea violently, almost knocking it over in your hurry to leave. You could no longer stay, not here, suffocating in your memories of him. You erased the gimbap out of your vision, ignoring it as you made your way to the counter, paying for your drink as the half-hearted employee handed you with your change. You mutter a thank you, unsure if he had even heard, and mindlessly make your way out of the store, too focused on keeping someone out of your head. You nearly bang into the glass doors in your haste, looking down and walking as fast as you can. Until your heart stops, that is.

You don’t dare look up, not now. The whole world slows to a stand-still, your gaze sharpening on nothing. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest, your lungs stop working. Electricity charges through the air and you’re left reeling, not knowing what to do.

Slowly, painfully, your neck raises, muscles straining with all their might. You already know what you’re going to see, who you’re going to see, but the sight of him still shocks you all the same. You nearly spill your drink all over yourself when you finally look up, and your brain goes into overdrive. You’re sure that your mouth is hanging open, jaw slack, but you can’t do anything about it. Your knees buckle, you can’t breathe, suffocating, wanting the ground to swallow you up at this very moment. You want to fall, tumble into an eternal tunnel. You are dizzy, light-headed, going crazy, you swear. You’re going crazy, aren’t you? This can’t be real, can it?

You can’t believe it. You’re drowning, drowning in those chocolate eyes, sinking into his pupils, losing yourself in his gorgeous features. You drink him all in, his own face mirroring yours, in no doubt absolute shock or maybe even despair, his deadly stare making your breath hitch as it once did so long ago. He’d never lost his power over you, after all. The world is suspended around you, all operations ceased as you both continue to stare into each other’s eyes, the tension so palpable that it threatens to devour you whole. Your larynx seems to be glued shut, your tongue a stone in your mouth. There are no words, no way to express this feeling that washes over you upon seeing him again.

“Y/N…”

His voice. Your ears ring with his deep baritone, honey to your ears. You can’t help it: you quite literally swoon, despite the circumstances. His voice: it ignites a fire within you, warm tendrils of heat rising up from your stomach. Vibrations send throughout your core, making you lightheaded and sure that you’re about to fall. You remember his timber next to you in the dead of light, comforting you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, it’s okay, it’s okay, breathe, it’s okay, you’re here with me.

You hug your arms around yourself, trying to keep it all in, retain the strange feeling that was now foreign to you after months of cold. It’s been too long, after all - you’ve gone too long deprived of this humanness, comfort that radiated off of him.

Things are different now, Y/N.

Yes, they are. Your mind goes berserk once more, considering all of the scenarios. Why is he here? He probably just needs to go to the minimart - no, why would he come all this way, he lives pretty far as well, or maybe he’s waiting on a friend, no, maybe he’s brought a new girlfriend, maybe she’s with him right now waiting to jump out of the shadows. Maybe they’re both exchanging looks right now when I’m not looking, laughing, taunting me, this girl from the past who doesn’t deserve to be here, maybe they all think I’m a joke now, what am I doing, why, why, why?

You’re so lost in your thoughts that when Taehyung addresses you once more, you’re violently jolted out of your mind and nearly fall backwards, body forgetting everything but the sound of his voice.

“Y/N…” he says again, forcing you to look up at him. Your name splinters through the air from his lips, cutting through the frost and straight into your chest; you notice now that his voice seems tired, that he seems tired.

You finally regain some semblance of control over your frozen tongue, lips moving in an attempt to emit a sound, any sound. Your lips wrap around the sole syllable that comes to you like muscle memory, the only one that you manage to choke out.

“T-Tae…”

Your voice cracks, unable to continue. The prolonged eye-contact has got you weak, his pupils boring into your soul. You look into his eyes, reciprocating, and you notice that maybe they’ve lost their golden sheen, that they no longer twinkle with constellations of stars. And it’s then that you realize: maybe the year has taken a toll on him too.

Look at what you’ve done to him.

“T-Tae, I, I, I…” you sputter out, guilt flooding your system like a drug. There was nothing you could say, nothing you could tell him to cheat yourself out of the situation or paint yourself in a better light like you’re so used to doing. You’re not used to feeling this powerless, this weak. Taehyung was the only one who saw through the facade, the only one who allowed you to feel vulnerable. You couldn’t lie to him, you knew you couldn’t; there was no wheedling, no bullshitting, no lying yourself out of any sticky situation, which had caused you this whole trouble in the first place. You ran because you were too much of a coward to talk to him, to confide in him. And look where that’s gotten you.

“Why are you here?” he asks, burying his head in his hands. “Y/N, why are you here?”

Why am I here? You don’t really know as well, there’s nothing that you can say to him. Why am I here? To get over him? How are you even going to tell him? He has to think that you’re over him, that it’s done. Stop torturing yourself, and stop dragging him through this mess of your life. Tell him that it’s done.

“I… I came because…”

Y/N, say something?

“I came because I… I was looking for you.”

What the fuck?

His head snaps up, his piercing stare catching your gaze once again. “You were looking for me?”

You feel your heart stop.

“Umm… well, I mean, no, but, no, well actually if I think about it now, yeah, yeah I was looking for you,” you stammer, unable to produce a single cohesive line of thought. “I was looking for you because I wanted to tell you that it’s over.”

Your own words are like a dagger twisting into your own heart and vaguely hear a choked sound breaking the awful, awful silence. Until you realize that it’s come from your own mouth, a sob that you hadn’t even realized that you were holding in.

A moment of charged silence goes by, yet louder than any noise that either of you could’ve let out. Never in your life has silence felt so utterly deafening, and you wish to cover your ears and scream it all out.

“You’re telling me this now?” Taehyung manages, features distorted in pain. “You’re telling me this now, a whole fucking year after you walk out the door without a single word to me?”

You look down at the ground, hating, blaming your traitorous mouth for saying something that you hadn’t fully thought through.

No, Y/N. You have to stop bringing everyone down.

You’ve lost all rational thought when you say, “yes, Taehyung. Yes. I had nothing to say to you then and nothing to say to you now. It’s done and it’s over.”

You couldn’t even say sorry?

The frosty wind brushes over the pair of you, causing you to shiver in your boots. You want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and disappear, pretend that this never happened, that this was all a bad dream.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a security guard watching the whole exchanged with piqued interest. It’s none of your fucking business, you want to scream. It’s none of your fucking business. And yet you’re so humiliated, embarrassed at this whole mess that you’ve made of not only yourself but the situation in its entirety that you cannot muster up any words to merely defend yourself. You want to cry, sob, yell, scream.

“Fine, Y/N, it’s okay. You know what? It’s okay, you don’t owe me an explanation, you don’t owe me anything, not an apology, not a reason, not your love. It’s okay. It’s fine. Maybe you never loved me, saw me in the same way. Maybe I just assumed, maybe it was wrong of me to assume. Maybe I was too optimistic, too in love with you that I had forced myself to believe the story that I had made up in my head, that you were in love with me too. Maybe I had wanted it, wanted you so bad that I had made myself believe it. Made myself believe that you were in love with me.”

Your heart instinctually reaches out to him, drumming feverishly against your fragile ribcage. No, you want to scream. No, Taehyung, you couldn’t be more fucking wrong. He doesn’t know the way your heart beats for him in the dead of night, how the mere thought of him sends shivers down your spine, how every cell in your body, every thread of your being aches, yearns for his presence with every hour, every minute, every second.

You feel your heart breaking, splintering into thousands, millions of tiny little fragments raining down like shards of glass. It hurts, it hurts like hell.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Don’t force yourself into anything. There’s no need to anymore. There’s no more need to lie, no more need to pretend that you’re happy.”

“Thank you for telling me the truth.”

It’s not the truth, you want to cry. It’s not. It’s the farthest from it. But you return his look, tight-lipped. You nod, despite the swell of emotions that are threatening to cut you in half at this very moment.

“You’re welcome.”

He reciprocates your nod and slowly, painfully, tears his eyes from yours. He stands up, gingerly, as if hesitating, and you want to tell him to stop, to sit back down, that you’re lying to him, that you want him, that you want him more than anything in this world. But you don’t, and he continues onto his feet, sparing you one last gaze.

“At least I get to say goodbye,” he says, wistfully. “At least I now have the chance to say goodbye.”

You’re sure that tears are streaming down your face at this point, little trails of ice making their way down your blushed cheeks. Your lips are tight, and you cannot, for the life of you, return his look.

Before you can fully comprehend what’s happening, you know he’s here, the familiar hold of his arms, your face finding itself nestled on the same spot on his chest, right above his heart. You feel it beat, gently, slowly, under your ear, a comforting rhythm that you’ve too often fallen asleep to, whispered to. Your arms instinctually wrap around his waist, and his head settles on the crook of your neck, the curve of his nose gently kissing your delicate skin. His warmth radiates from under his coat, and you soak it all in, collecting as much as you can. You are two puzzle pieces, a perfect fit, and you will this moment into eternity, searing it into your memory, wishing for the world to stop, stop right now and leave you in this moment forever. You’ve been lost, wandering, and have finally come home.  

But forever doesn’t exist.

You’re struck with a blast of cold at his loss, feeling horribly empty. He steps away from you, and you’re almost certain that you see moisture in his eyes, tears threatening to break free. Every fiber of your being yearns for him, you want to reach out to him, extend the hug, shower him in kisses, make up and forget that this all even happened, but you’re too prideful. You can’t let yourself do this.

“Goodbye, Y/N. Thank you for everything.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

                                             [    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙    ]

11:42am, March 12 2021

[taehyung]

I miss you.

I miss you as the seasons come and go, I miss you as I watch the world going to shit, losing all hope. I miss you when the wind blows, taking me along like a pointless man, destined for nowhere. I’ll miss you eternally; I’ll miss you when all the ice melts into the ocean, I’ll miss you when everything’s finally disappeared and there’s utter nothing left for me.

I miss you in the brightest mornings and the darkest nights, when the sun comes out to play and the rain starts pelting down like there’s no tomorrow. I’ll miss you in the loneliest winters and the blooming springs.

Everything reminds me of you. I am stuck in this eternal frost without you here; your loss has trapped me into this winter forever. I am slowly losing feel of my limbs as they succumb to the cold around me - everything has frozen into place, trapping me into the confines of this perpetual season. The world is closing in, I have nowhere to go, nothing to do. No longer do I have you to lead me out of this snow, no longer do I have you to hold my hand and bring me warmth through it all.

Why did you have to go?

Baby, did you know how much pain I’d be in when you’d left? Did you know how much it would hurt, how you’ve trapped me into this never-ending arctic, leaving me behind to freeze?

Did you know when you chose to go?

You’ve left me in ruins, my love. I can’t continue without you. I’m struggling to breathe, suffocating, as the world collapses inwards, threatening to bury me alive. I wait for you everyday, through all of the grief, the pain. I still wait for the day that you come back, that I get to see your face again.

Or maybe I’m a dumbass. I don’t know. Have you changed? Or is it I who has? Or perhaps, us both? I’m still a lovesick fool for you, Y/N, that I can tell you for sure. I can’t stop thinking of you, as the days pass, sun and moon taking their turns in the sky. I’m left, suffering in this darkness, bleakness without you here. I wonder if you’ll still be there at the end, when all ceases to exist. I wonder if I’ll see you again; how much more do I have to wait? How many more sleepless nights will have to pass before I can lay my eyes upon you again? How many days, months, years do I have to hold back before I get to feel you, touch you, kiss you, one more time?

Or maybe I’m being optimistic. You know what, Y/N, I’ll never see you again, maybe you’re better off without me. Maybe it’s all for the best, maybe it’s time for me to move on, maybe it’s time for you to move on. Maybe it really was not meant to be, maybe you really weren’t the one for me.

Then why can’t I get you out of my head?

Y/N, I wish I could just forget you. I wish you never existed, I wish I had never gotten to know you. Then it would be so much easier for me. I wish that you had ignored me, that you had turned me down when you had the chance. It would’ve been the most pain that I’d feel at the time, but believe me, it’s nothing compared to this.

Now I can’t get rid of you, no matter how hard I try. You’re there, you’re there when I lie down and close my eyes for the night, you’re there at work, hiding behind my papers and my laptop, waiting to take me out to lunch. You’re everywhere, baby, you’re in the car, riding shotgun and racing to connect to Bluetooth first, singing at the top of your lungs as we speed down the highway like the reckless teenagers that we were. I see you, hair tangled by the wind, belting out your favorite lyrics out of the roof of my convertible. And I remember thinking, for the hundredth time that night, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. Damnit, Y/N, you’re standing by the mirror every morning when I get ready for my meetings, dainty fingers straightening my tie and planting a kiss on my lips. You got this, lover boy.

You’re there, and then you’re not. You flicker between reality and imagination, I cannot discern whether I’m living in a fever dream or simply hallucinating. You’re slipping through my hands like grains of sand: I’m losing more of you by the second, can’t seem to hold on to you. You’re disappearing, getting further and further away as all I can do is watch helplessly as you fall through my fingers.

Where are you now, Y/N?

I worry about you, I worry whether you’ve eaten well, whether you’ve slept well, whether you’ve had a good day at the office. Have you seen your parents lately? Have you had some time to yourself over the past days, have you overworked yourself as you often tend to do? Are you taking care of yourself?

Is it selfish of me to be wishing for you, thinking of you after all this time? Tell me, Y/N, is it wrong of me to be wanting you despite it having been over for so long now? You’ve probably moved on by now, considering how long it’s already been. Maybe you’ve met someone new, maybe you’re in love with someone else, maybe I’ve already been replaced with another man in your life.

Maybe I treated you wrong, maybe you didn’t feel like I loved you enough, maybe I didn’t make you feel special enough. I wish, Y/N, I wish that I could turn back time for you, I wish I could go back and be better for you, that I could fix all of the mistakes that I’ve made, wipe all of the tears that you might’ve cried for me, swallow up all of the pain that must’ve been plaguing you, to suck up the hurt that you were feeling back then. I wish you could give me all of the pain, I wish that I could’ve carried it all for you, shielded you from it all like how I should’ve done.

But it’s too late now, isn’t it?

You’ve met someone else by now, you’re laughing, smiling, whispering with another, kissing someone else’s lips, in love with your new man. And I’m still here, trying to get over you like the pathetic loser that I am. There are so many regrets, so many things that I wish that I could still tell you, so many errors, mistakes that I made. It’s all my fault. I want nothing more than to be able to get on my knees in front of you and apologize for everything. There are so many more words, so many moments that I want nothing more than to be spending with you.

I’m still in love with you.

I think I always will be, Y/N. I know it’s selfish of me. I really can’t help it. I’m sorry.

You came into my life like a whirlwind, taking all of me along for the ride. And now that you’re gone, I don’t know what to do with myself no longer. I’ve been swept away with you and my fate will forever be left in your hands. There’s nothing left for me here, not in my work nor art. All that’s left is you. You are the only thing keeping me going now - I live another day, endure another night hoping for you, waiting for the day that I will finally see you again. I open my eyes for you in the mornings, in hopes of laying them upon your figure once more.

Maybe it’ll all be for nothing, I know. Maybe I’ll never see you again. But there’s nothing left for me, remember? I’m willing to take my chance. For when I finally do see you once more, it will all be worth it.

I miss you, Y/N. I miss you so fucking much. My heart beats for you, my lungs breathe for you. My every cell in my entire being aches so desperately for you, for you and you only. And so I’ll wait for you. I promise. I’ll be here for you, waiting for the day that I get to catch a glimpse of you, to be there when you need a shoulder to cry on, for when you need even the littlest, tiniest thing. I’m ready to give you the world, baby. I’m ready to right all my wrongs, to treat you like the fucking queen that you are. I’m going to treat you the way that you deserve.

When that time comes, my heart will be happy. When the time comes that I see you again, that I hear your voice again, your laugh again, it’ll be okay. All this pain will fade away to nothing. Don’t worry about me, darling, I’ll always be here, waiting. Waiting for you, until the end.

I promise.

                                                    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

an: i hope you liked it!!!! <3 please please please leave feedback my loves!

[babbushka]

Biting Dust - Ch. 1

Life ain’t too easy for a woman, ‘specially not a woman on the run like you. With a bounty on your head and gunpowder in your nose, you’ve grown adjusted to a life of solitude away from the hustle and bustle of civilization. That is, until you meet one particular man who’s got a face you’d only ever seen in your dreams – or on wanted posters. And when he offers you a proposition that sounds too good to be true, well. You don’t think your life will ever be the same again...

Outlaw!Kylo Ren x Reader 

Tumblr Masterlist | Available on AO3

5.5k ; Warnings: Mentions of murder, hanging, arson. 

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

You wonder, sometimes. Wonder how it all turned out like this, how this was the life you now led. You wonder if you could go back and do anything over, if you’d do anything different. Sometimes you don’t do so much wondering, there ain’t the time when you’re on the run with sheriffs at your back; but times like this, with nothing but the uncharted desert sprawling out in front of you, all you could do was wonder.

Something wisps up into your eyes and you cringe as you scrub it out -- sand, stinging and coarse. Nothing but sand, as far as the eye could see. You really fucking hate sand, you think, as the rising sun carries on up into the sky, bringing with it a gentle enough breeze that makes your horse, Agnes, toss her mane in delight. She whinnies softly, and you pet the back of her neck as she does, trudging through the sand after a long night of riding, a long night straight through the desert.

“Almost there,” You reassure her, “Shouldn’t be too much farther now.”

You’d robbed a bank the day before, and damn it all that had proven to be a poor enough decision. Ain’t no money in the bank, nothing at all, nothing but a whole group of cowardly men who were quick to whistle for the dogs that went bitin’ at your ankles.

They paid for that offense against you, had paid with their lives.

If only they had had any money for you to take with you, as you sped off into the night, not daring to stop until you had put enough distance between you and the men with steel.

Now, you don’t even have robbing on your mind. No, you think as Agnes chuffs and complains about the tiredness in her hooves, you’d settle for something as simple as a cool and dry bed, a hot bath, maybe enough time to clean your clothes and have a bite to eat before you’re off again.

A bed, bath, and crust of bread which you were looking forward to in the next town over. Robbing that bank hadn’t been entirely useless after-all, you use the morning sunlight to figure out this chicken-scratch cartography off the map you’d quickly grabbed before dashing out of the blazing bank, flames engulfing everyone and everything inside it as you make your escape.

“If we did this right, we should be there before the sun comes up over the canyons.” You tell her.

She only chuffs again, and you know that she too will be looking forward to a soak in a lake somewhere to wash the blood off her hide.

If you weren’t so damn tired, you might appreciate the view. The marbling of the earth around you as the sun begins to shine down on the many layers, millions of years in the making, should be breathtaking. The all-encompassing orange and reds, the slight hints of purple, the occasional dappling of yellow speak to a world ancient, as old as time.

It really puts into perspective, this whole thing, your whole life. See, dammit there you go thinkin’ again, wondering again. You clench your jaw and urge Agnes forward a little further, knowing she really can’t take much more before needing a rest. You know, but still you ask her gently to keep on moving, because the sooner you get into town, the sooner the both of you can rest.

“I think…I think that’s it, just up ahead.” You say softly to the old gal, patting her shoulder encouragingly. “You did it, thank you, thank you Aggie.”

Your horse catches wind of the scent of something, something that excites her, and suddenly she’s bolting in the direction of the town, of the piece of civilization that you can just barely see. There’s civilization of some sort, that’s for sure, you can see the little specs of buildings out in the distance. There’s many of them, which is good, really good. It doesn’t look as big as a trading post, but that’s okay – there’s less of a chance that anyone would know who you are.

You hold on tight as Agnes gallops through the canyons, falcons flying overhead, their shadow blurring past on the sandy ground as the wind whips through your hair. You feel elated, feel like you could fly, just like those falcons, flying and soaring straight to salvation in the form of a sheltered room and a drink of water.

Your canteen isn’t empty, but anything left you have will go to Agnes. She can’t tell you when she’s so thirsty she’s half to death, so you don’t ever let her get close. Your last sip of water was two days ago, and you know you can hold out a little longer, will drink the bathwater if you have to, but Agnes does more hard work and so she gets the water.

None of that matters, because Agnes is sprinting, and you’re reminded of why she’s called the fastest Beast in the West. Huge plumes of sand kickback as her hooves dig into the earth, bringing you closer closer closer to the town, at a speed which will no doubt raise suspicion, will no doubt cause unwanted attention.

“Not so fast there girl!” You calm her down, “I know, I’m excited too, but not so fast! They’ll start shootin’ at us!”

That seems to make enough sense to her, because her breakneck pace reduces down to a trot pretty quickly. Your hair is tangled and in your mouth and eyes, your hat nearly flung straight off your head, but all is well. Nothing had fallen out of the knapsacks on the saddle, and the entrance of the town is only a few more hundred feet away.

“Woahh, stop for a minute.” You command her, tugging on the reigns ever so slightly. She looks over her shoulder at you, and you know you’ve spent too much time alone when you can begin to read the annoyed look in her eye. “Just a minute, I need to change.”

Hopping down from Agnes, you take her by the reigns and guide her behind a large wide stone which juts out into the air some couple dozen feet. You’re just past the edge of the canyons now, but you’re thankful for these little hidey spots, because they’re the perfect cover for swapping out clothing.

Clothing was crucial a lot of the time, for you to go through the world unnoticed. It wasn’t all that common for outlaws to have more than one set of something, and you use that to your advantage, stripping down completely naked right there in the middle of the desert. Stuffing the blood-stained and filthy riding clothes into one of the knapsacks, you exchange that for a beautifully clean and well maintained dress and undergarments. It wasn’t fancy like some high society woman might have, but this particular shade of blue cotton looked nice on your skin tone.

It reminds you of your old life, how you would wear something like this damn near every day, not just on special occasions where a disguise was necessary. The cotton was blue and the cut was perfectly flattering. The high neck concealed some unsavory scars, and the puffed sleeves accentuated your frame. There was some frilly detailing around the chest which you thought was a nice touch, but most of all, it buttoned down the front instead of down the back, which was nothing short of a lifesaver, when you had to dress all by yourself.

Over a clean pair of undergarments and petticoat this dress goes, and back up onto Agnes you climb, your transformation complete. You now look nothing like a filthy sharp-shootin’ bank lootin’ outlaw, instead you look like…well, something far more innocent than that.

If you can just keep your head down and stay out of the way for the rest of the day, not bother anyone and leave first thing a morning from now, you’ll be on to bigger and better adventures. Nevermind that your entire life feels like running away from something instead of towards something, nevermind.

“Show time Aggie.” You tell her, nudging her hindquarters with your boots once more.

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

The layout of the town is as basic as they come, which you appreciate. Two long strips of main buildings on either side of a dirt road, beautiful wooden structures some two stories high.  Some of them have got signs hanging from the porch denotin’ that that’s the general store, that there’s the post office. Some others have their names painted on the window, letting you know that there’s the bathhouse and over yonder there’s the armory.

No bank, you notice.

What you do notice, is the large saloon right at the end of the road, a culdesac of sorts, and you are sure that you hear the heavens open up and shine down on you, angels singing, because there’s a small sign that proudly announces vacancies. The building is huge, three stories tall and framed with the most beautiful wooden support beams with decorative carving. There’s music coming from inside, distant strumming of guitars and harmonicas that seem cheerful and jovial, and you’re glad that this town isn’t immediately hostile.

While you’re busy trying not to weep of relief that you’ll have a relatively safe spot to lay your head, a spot to let Agnes rest, the townsfolk are busy noticing you. They must not get many visitors round these parts, because everyone you pass stops in their tracks and stares.

They don’t exactly look unfriendly, just confused, as if they’d never seen a lone woman ride into town before – and maybe they haven’t. Oh well, you think with the hint of a smile as you tip your hat to a little girl with beautifully thick and long braids down her back, you can only hope to be an inspiration.

There’s men bargaining about something who stop and turn to you, women who drop baskets of bread as you pass. The children which laugh and play round polished bronze statues in the courtyard all halt and whisper amongst themselves, wondering who you are, what you could want, why you’ve come.

You just smile at them, show them all you mean no harm, knowing that this is their home, and you’re only passing through. This seems to appease the adults, but the children with their wide-eyed curiosity aren’t so satisfied. You try not to chuckle as parents have to steer their sons and daughters away from the road to keep them from rushing straight up to you and asking a million questions.

“You rest here, eat up.” You whisper to Agnes when you finally approach the end of the road, hopping off her back as elegantly as possible, leading her to a covered set of posts and a trough of water and feed, tying up her rope so she can’t go wanderin’ anywhere – not that she would.

With a deep breath of courage, knowing that your gun was hidden safely inside a makeshift pocket in the dress, should you need it, you push through the double swinging doors of the saloon.

All at once, the music, the chatter, the jovial laughter and clinking of glasses grinds to a screeching halt, as every patron of the bar stops and turns towards you. You can feel the weight of their stares, but you hold your ground, keep your chin up.

“Sorry to disturb,” You clear your throat there in the doorway, “But is this where a lady might be able to rent a room for the night?”

At the question, the saloon deems you to not be a threat at all, and you can practically taste the way the tension in the air dissolves. A lady looking for a room wasn’t nearly that interesting, not compared to a winning hand of cards, or the dregs of a beer, and you’re glad for it.

“Up the stairs.” The elderly bartender smiles at you real friendly-like as he shines some glasses.

“Thank you kindly.” Your curtsey is rusty, and your entire body aches from the exceptionally long journey, but you ignore the protest of your sore joints as your botos carry you over to the staircase and you ascend up away from the bar.

The second floor lobby of the saloon looks like a proper hotel, which surprises you. There’s a woman at a front desk just beyond the stairs, and she sure seems excited to see you. She’s a portly woman with greying hair plaited nicely in braids that rest along her chest, but she’s got a sharp glimmer to her eye, a glimmer you can appreciate.

“Well hello there! You lookin’ for a room?” She calls over to you, beckons you towards the front desk.

You take your hat off and hold it between your two hands, your own hair twisted and pinned into the messiest bun you’d ever done just so it didn’t look such a wreck from the long ride. You walk over to the desk and are more than grateful when she offers you a cup of crisp cool water.

“Yes ma’am, I am, my name is Mary Elizabeth Sampson,” You lie, “I saw the sign out front and was hopin’ that them vacancies might still be around.”

You try your best to not slam back the water the second the glass is in your hand, instead you bring it up to your lips in a measured sip, savoring the way the clean smooth taste of it travels in rivulets down your throat. You would never take this for granted, water.

Never in a hundred years would you not be eternally thankful for this elixir of life. The old woman at the desk smiles at you with a slight amusement, for she must know how badly you want to chug it. Instead of saying anything about it though, she pulls out a thick book and opens it up onto the desk, flips to the first blank slot.

“You’re in luck – we’re a fair price and good for it. Beds cleaned every day, breakfast lunch and dinner brought right up to you if you’d like from the bar downstairs. We’ve even got a hot bath out back, although that’s an extra price.” She says it so casually that you nearly miss it, but there ain’t no denying the way you choke in your excitement at the luxury of this place.

“How much would one night, meals and a bath cost, altogether?” You wipe water off your chin with the back of your hand, lick it off straight from your dirty knuckles, heart thrumming in your chest.

Were you dreaming? This place sounded like damn near a dream, you can’t help but think. It’s got everything you had asked for, and seemed nice enough to boot. You know your purse is light, you’ve only got five gold dollars to your name since the bank last night proved to be a bust. You’re hoping beyond hope that she doesn’t take your last coin – but you know that you’d give it to her if you had to.

“Altogether you’re lookin’ at about a buck fifty.” She replies, relieving you immensely. She points out the prices of the amenities on a piece of paper she pulls out from behind the desk so you know she’s not just high-ballin’ you, “Fifty cents for the room, buck for food and bath. You won’t find a fairer price around.”

“Do you happen t’have change? I’ve only got solid coins, I’m afraid.” You’re quick to show that that’s acceptable, more than acceptable, as you reach into your other pocket – the one that doesn’t have the gun – for a little drawstring purse.

You pull out two dollars, try not to think about how light your purse becomes from it, and slide it across the desk. The old woman clamps her teeth around the coins to make sure they’re good, and is very pleasantly surprised when she sees that they are.

“I sure do, here’s the key to your room, it’ll just be down the hall and to the left.” She hands you the leftover fifty cents, and an old iron key from a series of hooks up on the wall. You gratefully accept both items, and return the glass to her, now empty of every last drop of water, prompting her to say, “You know, it’s funny. I’ve been runnin’ this hotel for ten years and I ain’t never had two customers in two days. Is there some sorta movement happenin’ ‘cross the West?”

Your eyebrows shoot up at that, at there being another stranger. No wonder they had all stopped and stared so dramatically, you think. The townsfolk might think there must be something going on, to have two visitors so close together. You shrug in earnest though, trying to be as non-descript as possible, not give anything away one way or the other.

“I think there’s always going to be some sorta movement, but anything specific I can’t say for sure.” Your answer is open enough that the woman catches on and chuckles, waves you off and begins to step away from the desk, off back to do who knows what.

“I won’t keep ya, it’s so early you must’ve ridden through the night. I’ll bring breakfast up shortly, you just go on and get comfortable.” She says, and you nod in thanks before --

“Oh! Oh – wait, before you go, my horse, I’ve got a horse. Is there an extra charge to groom and board her for the night? She’s out eatin’ from the trough right now, I don’t want to go skippin’ out on any bills.” You rush back to the desk, and with all your commotion, the old woman can’t help but laugh.

“No Miss Sampson, we’ll take care of her for free. You go on and rest now.” She’s firm and kind, and you’re grateful for it.

In fact, you’re grateful enough that when she’s out of sight beyond the desk, you reach over and open the drawer where she took your payment, and you drop the change she had given you back into the little slot she’d taken it from, a silent thanks for the kindness, and lack of questions.

As you turn away for the final time to head towards your room, you stop cold in your tracks.

For up on the wall is a series of wanted posters, all printed and hung up recently, thick black ink letters boasting grand rewards.

Among them, your heart thuds a little bit quicker in your chest, is your name.

                                      WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

                                      (Y/N) ‘ANGEL EYES’ (L/N)

                       MURDERESS – ARSONIST – BANK ROBBERY

                                           REWARD - $25,000

 The image of your face is crudely drawn, so much so that you barely recognize yourself. They didn’t get a single one of your features right – but who could blame them. You never left any witnesses, never left anyone alive. Still, it’s enough that your name is up there, your real name.

Slightly above your wanted poster, is a poster you’ve seen damn near everywhere. Part of you is proud, proud that you’re movin’ on up the hierarchy of danger, as it were. You recall the days where Sheriffs were advertising only a couple hundred bucks for your head. Now you were a whole quarter of a hundred grand, which surely had to mean something, some sort of stepping on up in the criminal world.

The poster above yours though, now that man was a legend.

                   PROCLOMATION OF THE GOVERNOR OF KANSAS

     REWARD FOR THE CAPTURE OF EXPRESS AND TRAIN ROBBERS

                     GANG HEADED BY NOTORIOUS MURDERER

                                                  KYLO REN

                                                   $100,000

 Kylo Ren, now that was a name. And what a name for such an outlaw! He was well known all across the desert, in every canyon and mountain, every cliffside and town and trading post had his face slapped up on the walls.

Well, not his face.

No one had ever seen his face. Unlike you, he frequently left witnesses, people to tell the story of the chaos that took place that day, people to spur on the legends of his greatness. He was a train robber, one of the meanest around. They said he was a Pony Express boy back in the day, and had dodged death at nearly every turn. Seems as though he turned a page and started dealing out blows rather than taking them, him and his notorious gang who call themselves the Knights of Ren, like somethin’ out of a medieval fairy tale.

The photo on the poster, despite not showing anything other than a black bandana and a blind eye, seems to stare straight through to your soul.

You wonder if you’ll ever get up there, get up to $100,000. It doesn’t do to dwell though, and you know that if that old woman were to come back and see you staring she might get suspicious, so you just move along.  

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

The room isn’t much more than four walls and a bed, but you don’t care – this is the first time you’ve seen a bed in weeks, possibly in months. Losing track of the days was a bad habit of yours, but everything begins to blend in together when you’re out there, out in the desert. All you have are sun ups when the heat is so stifling as it ripples in waves across the sand, and the sun downs with the venomous critters that’ll kill you dead if they manage to get a hold of you.

Slipping off your shoes, you tuck yourself under the sheets and let your eyes close. It feels good, this. Feels good to not have to worry about imminent danger. You’re here tucked up, Agnes is out enjoying fresh water and food, and though your stomach rumbles, you know that eventually breakfast is on its way.

It mustn’t be any later than ten in the morning, but you’re sure you could sleep the whole day away anyway. It’d do you good, would keep you out of the way. Hopefully the folks around would forget about you entirely, and there’d be no trouble.

The door knocks then, and you suppress a groan as you get back out from the covers, and go to open the door. On the other side is the woman, holding a wooden tray with a bowl of steaming hot porridge, johnnycakes, and a fresh brewed mug of coffee.

“Sorry to disturb, I just wanted to get this to ya while it was still hot.” She says, and you invite her in by opening up the door a little further. “The stable boys are givin’ your horse a good wash right now, she’ll be boarded up in the stable right on the side, should you want to ride her ‘round at some point in the day.”

“Thank you ever so kindly, but I think she and I’ll just catch up on some much needed sleep.” You gratefully accept the tray, put it right on the edge of the bed where it won’t be disturbed. The food smells delicious, better than anything you’d had in weeks, and you can’t wait to dig in.

The old woman regards you for a moment, and while you’re turned away from her, she says ever so softly,

“Is it a man?”

Your hands still just as you go to pick up the coffee, and you sigh.

“Pardon?” You ask, turning to face her slowly, knowing exactly what she means but needing to play dumb enough so that she doesn’t know that you know.

“What you’re runnin’ from. Is it a man?” She asks again.

You sit down on the bed, warming your palms with the mug.

Casting a glance out the window, you see the townspeople milling about in the street, all going along with their daily business. Once upon a time, that was you. It feels like an eon ago, and it might as well be, because you know that you can never return to a life like that, a life like the one you watch from your window. Never again.

She’s still standing there, and you don’t want to be rude, so you swallow your pent-up feelings and simply shrug sheepishly.  

“That obvious, ain’t it?” You put on a façade of shyness, even though it’s not really a lie, not really.

“No.” The old woman huffs out a little laugh, putting her hands on her hips and surprising you by saying, “I’ve just been in your position, and I know kindness don’t come often.”

“The visitor who came through yesterday…” You suddenly grow curious, “What were they like? Are they still here?”

She waves you off though, probably thinking you’re insinuating that a man might be following you now. And that may very well be true, very well could be the case. You burned that bank down to the ground but that doesn’t mean someone could’ve sniffed out your trail and was headed straight for you. The woman shakes her head reassuringly, and your curiosity both grows and lessens.

“Nah Miss he’s long gone. Sheriff had him dealt with when he caught him trying to steal one of the horses out of the sheriff’s own stable, if you can believe it!” She chuckled, making your eyebrows shoot up.

“When you say ‘dealt with’..?” You trail off, wondering what kind of people these were.

“Oh well hanged of course. They don’t hang horse thieves where you’re from?” She asks you as if such an idea were unheard of to her.

That’s very interesting, you think. Very interesting indeed, such a sharp punishment for a crime that didn’t even happen. Most towns would have given the poor guy a trial, but he was only here for less than a day before hanged? Maybe these folks weren’t as friendly as you had assumed.

That’ll teach you to assume, you know the old saying.

“They rarely punish the folks who deserve it, where I’m from.” You say quietly, and the old woman gets the hint.

“I won’t ask where that is, but do you mind me askin’ where you’re headed?” She moves towards the door and you figure why the hell not, tell the truth for once.

“Colorado, much like everyone else it would seem.” You say, say out loud this dream you’ve had for so many months, “Hopin’ to get lucky and strike some gold before it turns into another mess like California.”

She’s pleased with that answer for whatever reason, and she gives you a knowing smile.

“I wish you luck with that, Miss Sampson, I really do.” She nods in the direction of the tray, where the porridge and sticky sweet pancakes are still nice and piping hot. “Enjoy your breakfast, take a bath. I’ll leave lunch outside your door and knock in case you’re asleep.”

With that, she’s gone, and you raise your armpit to see just how badly you smell to encourage – oh shit, you think, your whole face scrunching up after taking a whiff. Awful, is the conclusion, you smell awful. So badly that you almost lose your appetite from it, something that makes you laugh because it catches you so off-guard.

That woman had more patience than you could ever imagine, waiting so long to say anything about it, the stench, and that only makes you laugh harder, for you haven’t had a moment to laugh like this in a long long time.

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

With food in your belly, and after a long soak and scrub in the boiling hot tub out back, you sleep. You sleep the whole day away, sleep and let your dreams wander to simpler times, kinder times.

Your mind conjures up images of beautiful farmlands, cattle and gently baaing sheep. Numbers and letters dance behind your eyelids, midnight swims in the lake rush over your skin. It’s a good dream for once, a pleasant dream, not like the nightmares that typically plague you. Nothing like the flames which engulf your vision, or the booming laughter which turns to screams or or or --

“Speak of the goddamned devil --!” you gasp awake, your dreams ruined in an instant.

Bolting straight up, you’re disoriented for a moment, reaching for the gun in your pocket before sighing and recognizing this as the little hotel room. There is no danger here, you try and calm yourself down, try and stop the racing of your heart, but the cold sweat that’s shocked you awake grows clammy on your skin and you have to gulp down air.

The room is buttery golden, from the light of the setting sun which streams through the glass pane window. You quickly get out of bed and rush to the window, rush to see if anyone’s come, if they’re calling to run you out of town the way they did that attempted horse thief.

“I can’t stay.” You realize out loud, sighing into your hand as you rub your forehead, willing the spotted visions to blink away. You’d slept just about seven hours, which is probably more than the whole week’s worth of sleep combined, and you’d gotten your money’s worth of food and bath – plus they’d taken care of Agnes for you.

All of this justification runs through your head as you gather up your meager belongings and step into your boots. You twist your hair out of your face and open the front door, ready to place the key on the knob and slip out the back while everyone is at supper.

At your feet is another tray, a bowl of beans and a generous cut of beef along with a tear of bread and dried fruit.

You sigh, looking longingly down at it. Well, you think, better to not let the food spoil. Scarfing down the hot beans and the meat, you wrap the fruits and bread up in a cloth napkin and store it in your pocket. It’ll be a fine addition to the collection of foods you have packed in Agnes’ saddle, and you’re sure the addition will come in handy, not knowing of another town for many miles ahead.

You picked the perfect timing it would seem, because the saloon is empty, all the patrons at home for a home cooked meal with their families, and no one is around to see you head down towards the stable.

Agnes is happy to see you, as always. Her coat is shiny and white, she looks almost pearlescent so clean as this. Guilt pangs in your chest, you wish she could be so clean all the time. When you make it to Colorado and form your new life there, you decide you’re going to get yourself some land and let her spend the rest of her days grazing in peace.

“Ready to go gal?” You smile sadly, petting through her silky smooth mane.

She only whinnies softly, and without much more ado, you lead her out of the stable, and ride off into the sunset, on your way to the next stop en route to the Rockies.

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

On the outskirts of town, as the sky blazes beautiful oranges and reds, purples around the edges of the horizon and not a single cloud to be seen, you think about the old woman, you never got her name.

You can’t go back now, can’t go back to thank her more for her hospitality, her understanding. Who knows, you think to yourself, maybe you’ll see her again one day. Maybe you won’t, but life had a funny way of working out, didn’t it?

Up ahead, you see a poor soul hanging from a great big tree, his horse standing underneath it. That must be the thief, you reckon, the one the Sheriff was not too kind to. Goosebumps shiver up your spine, and you do your best to avoid looking at him out of respect. You knew that if you were strung up, you wouldn’t want any ogling eyes, so you simply urge Agnes to go a little faster, hoping that you might simply pass him and continue on.

You wonder if that might’ve been your fate, had you stayed. Perhaps that Sheriff would’ve gotten wind of the bank from the town over, might’ve warned him about any newcomers, might’ve warned him about you. You’ll be far out into the canyons by then, should that happen, you know. You know, and you just do your best to keep your head down, trying to let this man have some semblance of dignity.  

Until that is, that poor soul doesn’t seem so poor at all, because as you grow closer, the moment he catches sight of you, you can hear the booming baritone of a voice shout across the desert,

“Hey! Over here! Hey!”

And you think in shock, that this man ain’t poor, he’s got to be the luckiest sonofabitch you’d ever seen in your life – because somehow, against all odds, he ain’t dead.

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

Tagging some pals!  @steeevienicks  @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler  @whiskey-bumblebee  @autumnlovesadam  @goodboybensolo  @the-marvelatic @miasera @proxyfoxy @disaster-rose @hazydespair @yosoymuyloca @1-800-choke-that-snoke @ktellmeastory @anongirl007 @zimmerxman @okk--maaan​ @flapjacques​ @aweirdlookingtree​ @callmemania-pls​ @theold-ultraviolence​ @og-selene​  @schopenhauerdeathsquad​ @nekonaomitard​ @feminine-machinegun​ @contesa-lui-alucard​ @danceyreagan​  @supremehaunter​ @refletction​  @paljonkaikenlaista​ @pinkmoontribe-blog​

[nicka-nell]

Prompt Event

Request: @solelytobios​ CONGRATULATIONS ON 500 FOLLOWERS MISS GURL!!! I’m still fairly new to the blog and tumblr in general but I love your work 🥺 🤍 I was wondering if you could please do tobio angst and possibly include prompts 12, 33, & 44 from the list? That would be utterly amazing 

Hi Blue :))

Thank you for your kind words, that’s so sweet of you. ♥ I hope you like tumblr and that you enjoy everything here and especially the incredibly nice community. Of course! But I have to say that I had trouble making this really like something you call ‘angst fic’. ;-; Buuut I hope you like it anyway and that there is enough angst for you. ♥ Stay healthy and safe and have fun on tumblr :)).

Prompt Event  | Masterlist (coming soon)

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x reader Words: 2.598 Warning: angst

Promots: 12. You’ve shown me what love can feel like. 33. We’re not just friends and you fucking know it. 44. Isn’t it obvious? I’m in love with you!

You can’t help but giggle when you watch at the face in front of you, which looks desperately into his workbook and smashes his arms over his head. Who gives everything at volleyball with ambition. Who from the fingertips to his feet is fully concentrated.

But when it comes to school, it’s all gone. All you see is a pile of misery when you look in his direction. Recognize the despair in his face. But it’s not just this, what makes you laugh.

It’s all about Kageyama that makes you kind of happy. His smile, his uncomplicated, honest manner and his proud grin, which he wears in all his games when his team has scored a point.

It was a slow process but more and more you noticed that Kageyama not only makes you laugh, but also makes your heart beat faster every time he appears before you, when he hits slightly from behind against your back, with a straw in his mouth begins to mumble and says hello to you. When he looks at you with sparkling eyes, when you got one of the last gun-gun yogurts for him so that he can eat it. With every touch, every word, every breath, he turns your head.

“Can we take a break?” Brings you Kageyama’s sound back to the present. Still smiling, you nod, now put your book out of your hands before you fold your hands on his wooden table and place your head on it, imitate Kageyama and watch him in the eyes.

Long time you say nothing, are drawn into his spell by his deep blue eyes until they close at some point while you see how Kageyama’s body moves up and down quietly. As he slowly begins to breathe more deeply, sinking into the world of dreams.

Your gaze wanders from his eyes to his lips, which smile slightly at you. What it’s like to kiss those lips? To feel how soft they are? Immersed in your mind, you lean towards him, coming so close to him with your face.

But just before you can kiss him, he opens his eyes again, stares at you with large pupils, but does not move. “What are you doing dumbass?” he mumbles. Scared, you dodge, notice how your cheeks are starting to glow.

You quickly lick your thumb to press it against Kageyama’s face and pretend to wipe ink off of his face. “Ehhh… There was a stain!” Your voice sounds in an unusually high tone. But Kageyama only pushes your hand away and then rubs his cheek.

“Hey, dumbass, stop it! How would you like it if I licked your face?” He grumbles, and before you can answer him, he holds your head with his hands and moistens your cheek with his tongue.

“Ah Tobio, stop it!” You laugh when you try to dodge him and fall on the ground with the man in front of you. With a dull sound he lands on you, squeezing your upper body with his before he stares at you with slightly reddish cheeks and falls silent.

His hair tickles your forehead, and now you see nothing but Kageyama. Again you look at each other, jet you have the feeling that if he moves a bit in your direction, he could hear your heart loudly.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes and straightens up, pulls you up with a jerk, before he scratches the back of his head and looks to the side. “It’s late, isn’t it? You should go home.”  He just stutters, and aims his gaze at the room door.

Somewhat irritated, you look at his wall clock, nod as you see how late it is and leave him with a fleeting goodbye. Because if you stay with him another second, your heart will explode.

The next few weeks are flying by, you are still doing something together almost every day, laughing a lot, as if this incident had never happened a few weeks ago.

Today you are alone again, lying together in Kageyama’s bed and watching a volleyball match of the Japanese youth team against the Argentine youth team on his laptop. He clamped a pillow between his back and the wall, drawed you into his lap, so that you lay between his legs on his chest, his arms bound around your upper body like a belt.

You feel his heartbeat on your back, how it beats faster than usual. Almost in line with yours. It hurts to know that Kageyama is your best friend, but that you’re actually acting like a couple.

Is it normal to lie in bed like this when you’re just friends? If it’s better to ask him how he feels, or do you destroy your friendship with this question?

His breath lays down on your skin like a veil as he suddenly presses his head against your temple. “Kageyama? What would happen if we were together?” It comes out of you dull, and at the same time you regret your question.

“Together? But we are together dumbass… Or do you have a twin sister you always send to me so you don’t have to come here?” You should have known that Kageyama misunderstood the question that he doesn’t directly understand what you’re trying to ask.

Relief but also a stabbing pain spreads in your body. “Hehe yes, you are right. I’m a dummy.” You laugh a little embarrassed, but notice how your false smile does not convince even Kageyama.

The grip around your shoulders becomes looser, he straightens up again and looks at you with his blue eyes questioning. Doesn't talk to you, just stares.

For a blink of an eye, you decide whether you should tell him to go home now, or to stay, before you turn to him. But unless you can say anything, Kageyama holds your chin, watches at you seriously as he slowly comes towards you, fixating your tender lips.

You have the feeling that your heart rings five beats faster, that your body has reached a temperature that is anything but human. But just before his lips find yours, loud cheering sounds from his laptop, as the Argentinean team has won the first set.

“Arrg I can’t believe it! Ushijima should finally use his hands for blocking and not just for attacking mmpf!” He shouts angry through the room and goes annoyed through his hair. Sulking he looks at the screen, almost as if he has forgotten that you are there.

“What an annoying game.” He mumbles, before he leans back against the wall and pulls you back into his arms, as if the previous moment didn’t happen at all. Like he didn’t want to kiss you a second ago.

Silently, you let him hold you, are okay with the fact that he won’t try to kiss you again, because it’s clear to you now that he feels the same way you do for him. When the next break is coming up, you set yourself the goal to ask him another time, and this time hopefully also get the kiss he almost gave you a second before.

But at the beginning of the next break, you are already sleeping deep and firm in his arms. Even Kageyama falls asleep after the victory of the Japanese youth team, doesn’t mind that you lie in his arms.

The next morning he wakes up first, is tense, because he has lain badly. Just sees your body connect his and you slumbering peacefully. Actually, it’s not such a bad sight to see you so calmly. To know that you don’t just open your mouth and whine about something stupid to him. Unconsciously, he begins to smile.

Carefully he tries to shake you awake, but you only turn around in his arms, lay your temple to his chest as you start to murmur quietly to yourself. “I love you Tobio.” Your words sound softly, kissing Kageyama’s ears.

He falls silent, doesn’t move a bit, almost doesn’t breathe anymore to really make sure you don’t wake up now. Did you just say you loved him? What exactly do you mean by that? How can you speak of love when you are friends?

You guys are friends, right? After all, you’re always there for him. You are the person he likes and always has at his side who doesn’t bother or annoy him. But you’re just friends… right?

Would he like to know what it’s like to kiss you? Maybe, yes. Does he like to feel your closeness? He would lie if he said no, but if you then speak directly of love? What if he doesn’t love you? When he realizes that it’s only enough for a friendship and in the end lose you as his girlfriend and best friend?

He has to come up with something now… And if it means that he has to do something that you hate him, just to forget that you love him, he will do it. Because nothing is worse than losing a person that is so important to him.

It’s best to think about everything… But first he has to wake you up.

“Hey, dumbass, get up and go home. You’ve been here too long.” He wakes you up rudely and makes you jump up, tired of rubbing your eyes. “Tobio, you idiot! Can’t you say that a little nicer?” You hiss, before you reach out and look at the clock.

It’s really way too late, you should just pack up and go home before anyone else worries about you. Quickly you pack your things, say goodbye to him and go home.

Several weeks go by, almost months in which you do less with Kageyama, in which he has less time, almost distancing himself from you. Last week, you only got one message from him. At home he was never to be found and also otherwise he completely disappeared out of your grid.

But this time you will stand at his doorstep, waiting for him to come back to confront him. And after more than two hours, you see him. Laughing and moving slowly to the door, still hasn't noticed you.

But he is not alone, in his arms is another woman. A girl you don’t know. Jet she’s so familiar with him. Holding him like you always did, looking at him the way you looked at him, and driving him through his soft hair like you used to.

He still doesn’t notice you when he stops and looks at this girl. Tentatively caresses her cheek, places a strand of hair behind her ear, before he bends down to her and gives her a tender kiss. A kiss you thought was meant for you.

A bittersweet feeling is floating your body. Takes you almost the air to breathe away, when you notice how your eyes are getting warmer. Warmer since crystal gleaming tears form in them. Tears running silently down your cheeks.

The girl walks away, when Kageyama also sets in motion, watching briefly at this girl, before he looks forward petrified when he sees you.

Your face filled with tears makes him angry. For a moment, he wants to know why you’re sad, who made you unhappy, and who is responsible for you crying bitterly. But then he remembers it’s him. That’s why you look at him like that.

You just want to run past him, run away from him, when he instinctively grabs you by the wrist and stops you. He doesn’t even know why his body was acting like that when he knows you don’t want to see him now.

At least he doesn’t want to admit it, but right now he knows best why his body works against his mind. Why his body won’t let you go. Understands secretly why he didn’t feel anything when the girl kissed him today, why she wasn’t important to him. Why that kiss he gave her earlier even pissed him off.

“What the hell, Kageyama? Who is that girl? Why did you kiss her?” You yell at him.

Kageyama, not Tobio, what a slap in the face. A slap that enters deeper, hits a point in his body that now hurts more than a real slap in the face. “I’m sorry.”

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it!” You still yell at him.

I know. But “I’m sorry.” is the only thing that leaves his mouth. Jet he leaves your wrist, looks at you dumb.

“Oh you’re sorry, yes? Are you blind, Kageyama? Are you that blind? So naive?” Your voice still trembles as you see him blurred before you, looking at you emotionless.

“I’m sorry.”

“Really Kageyama? Then why did you do that? Can’t you see what we both have? Can’t you feel that this isn’t a normal friendship we have? Isn’t it obvious to you?” Your last words are barely heard, your voice so fragile. Fails almost at the last word. But Kageyama’s gaze does not change. Still looks emotionless like before.

It is. But “I’m sorry.” again leaves his mouth.

In you, anger, grief and hatred boils. “You know, Kageyama, I wish I could hate you, but I fucking love you, you idiot!” Your fists find their way to his chest, pounding on it. Won’t make Kageyama move away from you at any moment.

Because he’s letting you take all your anger out on him, that he’s the scapegoat. That he gets what he deserves now that he’s made you so unhappy.

“I’m sorry.”

“Can’t you think of anything else then I’m sorry?” Your crying eyes look at him full of hate.

“I’m s-”

“No, shut up, shut up! Why are you doing this to me, Kageyama?” You want to know from him when you sniff and try to stop your runny nose.

“I’m sorry.”

You’re dumbfounded how few words he finds after ignoring you, meeting someone else now, not even telling you about it. You thought for a moment that he loved you when he was the one who wanted to kiss you several weeks ago. But you were wrong.

“You’ve shown me what love can feel like. Disgusting, painful and wrong!” You say in a trembling voice that it is quieter than before, but you can hear the disappointment in it even from a distance.

“I’m sorry.”

“I hate you Kageyama, I hate you! Don’t call me, don’t text me, just leave me alone.” You sniff this lie, while your voice gives in to every word more and more, loses strength and becomes more shaky.

I won't, I won’t, I will.

With your chilly hands you wipe away the tears from your eyes. Don’t want Kageyama to see you like this for another second. Without even saying another word, you turn around, this time you won’t be stopped by Kageyama when your legs move away from him and leave him alone in the cold.

Kageyama Tobio, your best friend, your crush, is nothing now. What does he think he is, this Kageyama Tobio…? Just another idiot.

You, his best friend, the only woman he didn’t want to lose completely, whose friendship was more important to him than anything else. A friendship he did not want to lose out of selfishness, did not want to risk a friendship that is obviously more than just a friendship… Not there anymore.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m in love with you.”  

His voice is so quiet, so calm, that even he hardly understands it while he looks at your silhouette, which slowly disappears in the distance, just as it is best for a lonely king.

[cycwrites]

Switching Gears Part 10 - Family

Here it finally is, the last chapter. I don't know if I would've finished this without the support of a lot of people, @tiny-maus-boots and @kimmania being at the top of that list.

Thank you to everyone who has taken this journey with me. I love you all and hope you enjoyed the ride! (Ha, dirty.)

Staubrey with side Bechloe.

Words: 5,500ish

Rating: No smut in this one - does that make it Teen+?

AO3   FFN    Tumblr Master Post

-----

Family

~S~

“Did I hear Chloe correctly this morning? You’re all going to be moving in together?” Emily threw popcorn towards Stacie’s mouth and gave a fist bump when it made it in. “Because I actually think that would be awesome.”

“No, you did not.” Stacie said once she finished chewing. “You overheard the end of a conversation about another conversation Aubrey and I had last night while naked and distracted.”

She was feeling very content, very playful and extremely relaxed after spending a few more hours naked with Aubrey after her last class. Not to say she didn’t want to drag Aubrey off into her bedroom for round whatever count they were up to, but she could wait until the rest were gone tomorrow.

Maybe.

“Oh my god. Gross!” Emily slammed her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, hunching down into the armchair. “Why did you have to say that?”

“You asked,” Chloe said as she came walked into Stacie’s living room with the stack of pizza boxes that had just been delivered and set them in the middle of the coffee table. “Of course she’s going to answer. Oops, we need plates and napkins.” She turned to the kitchen.

“Because I didn’t know the context! I wouldn’t have asked if I had!” Emily complained to Chloe’s retreating back, setting the popcorn bowl on the table as well. “I could’ve lived without the context.” She picked up another piece of popcorn and threw it at Stacie. “You are a terrible cousin.”

Beca was walking back from the bathroom as it arced overhead and she snagged it out of the air and popped it into her mouth. Just as neatly, Stacie’s arms reached out and yanked Beca down to sprawl across her lap.

“Hey!” Beca flailed for a second before realizing she wasn’t falling anymore. “I am not Aubrey, why are you cuddling me?”

“You were there and stole my popcorn.” Stacie shrugged, not knowing what spurred her impulse but happy with the outcome. Beca’s head drew back and she stared at her, wide eyed and Stacie’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Even if it weren’t already chewed and swallowed, I would not be giving you back the popcorn from my mouth!” She blinked at her and then at Aubrey when she pulled Beca’s legs into her lap where she was seated on Stacie’s right. “Seriously?” But she didn’t get up and that acceptance made Stacie happy.

“You three look adorable, by the way. The real question is,” Chloe asked as she rejoined them with a stack of paper plates and a roll of paper towels. “Would you have tried to hand it back to her or let her come after it herself - without using her hands?” She set them down on the table before sitting cross-legged on the floor next to it in front of the empty spot on the couch where Beca had originally been sitting. “And can Aubrey and I watch.”

“Why did I agree to this?” Emily groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “I knew not a single one of you would behave. Each of you individually are worse than the sum of all the sex crazed teens in my high school and now that your powers are combined you’re unstoppable.”

“I wouldn’t say we’ve combined yet,” Chloe said and then, in the same breath, “Here’s some pizza, Em.”

Sighing Emily dropped her hands and took the offered plate. “I am still totally leaving after the movie, by the way. I am not staying the night in the hormone hotel.”

“But you’ll miss out on Aubrey’s French toast in the morning!” Beca rubbed her belly. “No one should ever turn that down.”

“It’ll be okay, Em. You and I can share Stacie’s bed, Stacie can have the couch and Beca and Aubrey can have the spare room,” Chloe said, handing a loaded plate to Aubrey.

“Why do I get the couch?” Stacie pouted, squeezing Beca like she was a stuffed animal.

“Because it’s your house, Bucky, and we’re the guests.” Beca patted her arms then reached for the plate that Chloe was holding out. Chloe caught Stacie’s eye and winked in amused affection as she looked up at the two of them. “It’s only polite.”

Bemused, Stacie pushed her lip out in a pout. “But why can’t I share my own bed with Emily and Chloe? We’ve done that plenty of times.”

“So Aubrey can sneak out and share the couch with you, obviously.” Beca paused with a slice of pizza halfway to her mouth as she realized they were watching her. “Why are all of you staring at me?”

“Because we’re wondering how long it’s going to take you to realize you’re still in Stacie’s lap,” Aubrey told her sweetly.

“I’m what?” Beca looked down as the rest of them burst into laughter. “Holy shit. Why… how… the fuck?”

“Because she’s comfy to snuggle with,” Emily told her, beaming. “She used to hold me when I was sick and sing to me. It’s the only time I felt better until it had passed.” She sighed mournfully. “I really missed that when she moved.”

“Okay that… is adorably cute,” Beca pointed at her. “And you’re not wrong about the comfy. But I am not eating pizza in your lap. Can I have my legs back, Aubrey?”

“I suppose,” Aubrey sighed dramatically and lifted her arms as Beca set her plate on the table.

Stacie helped Beca out of her lap and to her feet, swatting her rear since it was right there and she was never one to pass up opportunity. Beca spun around to glare at her, giving Aubrey the chance to reach out and pinch her while Chloe ran a hand up the inside of her thigh. Beca yelped and jumped backward, thankfully missing the coffee table though only by mere inches.

“I hate all of you.” She went the long way around the table. “Except Emily. She hasn’t assaulted my person.” She took her seat next to Aubrey and shoulder bumped her. “Can you hand me my plate babe?”

As Aubrey leaned over to get it she shared a smile with Stacie. “She loves me.”

“I know I do,” Stacie said softly, tucking a strand of Aubrey’s hair behind her ear as she handed Beca’s plate to her.

“Yeah?” Aubrey turned back to her with a shy smile. The rest of the conversation swirled around them but Stacie ignored it for the moment as Aubrey leaned back toward her. “Then you won’t mind if I sneak out to the couch to make out in the middle of the night?”

Stacie tilted her head and leaned forward the extra inch to slide their lips together. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” She hummed as several throats cleared around them. “I think we’ve got an audience again.”

Aubrey shrugged. “I’m getting used to it.” She sat back up and they both ignored the grins they were getting.

Chloe had settled against Beca’s legs and gave Stacie a quick wink. “Okay, but Emily does have a point.”

“That you’re all too horny for my mental state?” Emily stuck her tongue out when Stacie flipped her off.

“That we should all live together.” Chloe took a drink of her soda when Beca snorted. “Ever since you said it this morning it’s been in my mind.”

“I actually… kind of agree,” Aubrey said thoughtfully.

“You do?” Stacie turned and brought her leg up underneath her to face Aubrey fully. “You sound actually serious.” Not that she was against it and in fact had loved the idea since the night before. It just felt right and made so much damn sense to her. But she had thought the others had considered everything they’d said this morning as just four friends goofing around and teasing each other.

“I am,” Aubrey shrugged and wiped her lips with a paper towel. “I mean, think about it. It may be too soon to be this sure about things, but I get the feeling you and I are going to be spending more time together than apart, at one of our houses. Life would be simpler if we moved together.”

“Okay, okay. This is faster than even the worst lesbian U-Haul joke,” Beca pointed out. “You can’t be serious.”

Chloe turned and put her arm on Beca’s legs. “Are you saying you don’t want to be with me as often as possible?” She gave Beca a patented Chloe Beale Pout that never failed to make Stacie cave and it looked like Beca was going to be no exception.

Beca made a face. “If anyone else had said that to me I’d already be out the door calling an Uber. That is a danger sign of clingy and I don’t do clingy.” She reached down and stroked her fingertips through Chloe’s hair before curling a lock around her finger. “But since you said it… It’s barely been a day but… you’re not wrong and I don’t think I can argue too much.”

“Not right away, of course.” Aubrey said after another bite. “But like, maybe in six months we see where things stand and think about it then.”

“You think you’ll get tired of me in six months?” Stacie pouted again, not even remotely serious and making sure it showed. She had no doubts that they were on the same page there. Something this big required a lot of real conversations, serious ones, despite the fact that her heart said they weren’t necessary.

“Never know,” Aubrey said airily. “I could find someone better in bed.” Beca almost choked on her mouthful of pizza and Aubrey turned to pat her on the back. “Sorry Beca.”

Beca coughed for another few seconds then gratefully took the can of soda Chloe handed her. “Never try to ugly laugh while you’re eating pizza. The cheese tried to go down the air hole and that’s a bitch to get back out.”

“Did you just say ‘air hole’?” Chloe let out a giggle and shook her head. “That’s your go to? ‘Air hole’?”

“It’s so much easier to remember in the moment than ‘windpipe’,” Beca shrugged and took another bite, chewing carefully. “When I was little I called it a blowhole because my parents took me on a whale watching boat once and their spray was the coolest thing I’d ever seen.”

“You… are priceless and I am definitely in love with you.” Chloe tilted her head up and without hesitation despite the instant blush to her cheeks, Beca leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. “So you’re not allowed to choke on food in your air hole anymore.”

“Aw,” Emily cooed. “This was almost worth the mental scarring I know I’m about to get tonight.” She batted away the paper towel Chloe threw at her without looking.

Aubrey leaned against Stacie’s side. “So, for the record, since we’re in front of our best friends and family.” Stacie looked at her, brows knitting in confusion. “I will forever be grateful that you were the one who innocently parked your bike in my slot.”

Beca let out a high pitched snicker that she quickly muffled with her napkin. “Sorry.” She set down her pizza and waved with her other hand. “Sorry.”

“No you’re not, B. You said it that way just to trigger her gutter mind, didn’t you?” Stacie laughed when Aubrey only grinned at her. “But you still want to wait six months before living with me?”

“It’s the sane thing to do,” Aubrey sighed. “While I’ve talked to Emily and Chloe for a couple years, that’s still different than really starting to get to know them this past day. And you…” Aubrey put her left hand on Stacie’s thigh and squeezed. “I know we said it earlier but really, we’ve only spent maybe a combined 24 hours in each other’s presence.” She gave Stacie a soft smile that caused her heart to pang and beat faster. “But… no. I don’t want to wait. It’s stupid and impulsive but I would move in with you tomorrow if it were possible.”

“I mean, it is.” Beca shrugged when they all looked at her. “You just have to figure out which house you want and sell the other. The bitch is that you’d still have to pay for it until it sold.” She sat back, her plate on her lap. “Which is ultimately the same thing you’ll be doing even if you kept separate houses anyway – you’d just lose the safety net of having a backup house once it sells.” She pursed her lips. “Suppose you could always do short term rentals to folks if you’re really worried about compatibility and don’t want to lose the house. But if we’re really going to do this – and honestly it sounds like fun until it goes horribly wrong – might as well just wait and we all move at once. I think I’ve only got three months left on my current agreement anyway.”

“A good point, Starfish.” Beca made a face as Stacie looked down at Chloe, struck by a thought. “You also like to somehow take up more than your share of the bed –”

“Which is ‘fun’ when the three of us have a sleepover,” Emily added with a roll of her eyes. “Somehow I wake up with Stacie’s arm over my face or her knee in my back.”

“Sorry, Em.” Stacie said contritely though she smiled at the memories. “But I was more just curious how that’d work when you’re both fighting for maximum sprawl space.”

“Just means we’ll have to get a bigger bed,” Chloe said easily. “I may have gotten bored at work and done a casual search after talking earlier.” Beca perked up and opened her mouth but was interrupted.

“Nope.” Emily said immediately. “I don’t need the exact context to know I don��t want to know.”

“Probably best,” Chloe patted her leg comfortingly. “But… back to Aubrey’s point about waiting.”

“I hate that I made it,” Aubrey sighed. “It’s that stupid lawyer part of my brain that thinks things through to the point where it’s all mapped out and there’s no spontaneity. Getting away from that is why I moved.”

“That was an impulse that worked out.” Beca turned to her. “And not just because you met me and I’m fucking awesome. You’ve made a new life here and I know how much you hated your old one as a drone.”

“I love how confident you are,” Stacie said through a laugh.

“You’re saying I’m not fucking awesome?” Beca’s eyebrows went up.

Stacie decided to answer that as stated and not as her brain wanted her to because Emily would laugh first but probably just get up and walk out the door. “I didn’t say that. I knew from the second we met that we were going to be great friends one day.”

“You mean ‘day one’,” Beca nodded with satisfaction. “I feel the same about you, Bucky.”

“One of us needs to have the ability to hit the brakes,” Chloe offered. “And it’s going to take us a while to find a place that would suit all of us.” Aubrey started nodding slowly. “Assuming we all agreed to actually do it.” She shifted so she could look at them and Emily equally without having to crane her neck around. “And I’m in, by the way – I’m so in. I think it would be fun to have you all as roommates.”

“What about you, Em?” Stacie asked, reaching for another slice of pizza and setting it on her plate while she leaned back.

“Me?” Emily shook her head rapidly. “No, no way.”

“What?” Stacie frowned. “Seriously?” That definitely wasn’t the answer she had expected.

“Seriously.”

“She does sound Dixie Chick Serious,” Beca said casually, not even flinching when Aubrey thumped her in the leg. Stacie smiled as she remembered singing what she’d already begun thinking of as their song to Aubrey before falling asleep.

“Unless my bedroom had the best soundproofing in the world, there’s no way I would live with the four of you.” Emily shook her head. “While I will be over almost every single night, I will definitely be going home to sleep.”

“What about a house with one of those detached in-law apartments or guest house?” Aubrey said reasonably and the room fell silent as they all considered.

Stacie had been about to teasingly whine about wanting her favorite cousin close but all she could do was look at Aubrey in awe. “Oh my god you’re brilliant.” She got a shy grin in response and a pat on her thigh.

Emily chewed thoughtfully on the last of her crust. “Actually… that’s… not a bad idea.”

“Woo!” Stacie held up her hand toward her cousin, just out of reach. “Air high five!”

“You two are such dorks and I love you,” Chloe laughed as the two of them slapped the air in front of them. She lifted the lid of the pizza box so Emily could take another piece.

“Between the five of us we should be able to afford something like that, right?” Beca frowned. “Not that the shop makes a ton of money but I can afford more than the apartment I’ve been renting.”

“We’ll revisit tomorrow, once we’ve all had some real sleep?” Chloe looked around as they nodded. “And probably several more conversations over the next few months.”

“Because as much as I am into this idea,” Beca agreed. “There are a lot of things to be worked out before we start looking.”

“Figuring out a price range, how many rooms… I know Beca’s going to need space for storing gear and… oh god we’re going to have so many cars.” Aubrey shook her head. “I used to laugh at those listings where they had three bedrooms and three garages but now we’re going to need to be those pretentious assholes. Can we afford that?”

“That’s not something we have to figure out tonight. We save it for another day,” Stacie offered. “Who knows, maybe this won’t even work and this magical house doesn’t exist.”

“It does.” Chloe interrupted. “We’ll find it.”

Emily was nodding before she’d finished. “Now that I can picture it safely from a guest house, yeah. She’s right.” She bounced in her chair. “This is gonna be awesome!”

“This definitely calls for a toast,” Stacie said, wiping off pizza grease from her fingers. “Mixer for the coke or should I break out the wine?”

“Vodka please,” Emily said through a mouthful of pizza, belatedly covering her mouth while she chewed. “Sorry.”

“Gross.” Stacie shook her head. “I know Aunt K taught you better than that. You three good with that or want something else?” She stood to a chorus of ‘yes please’ and headed to the kitchen, aware that Aubrey had followed her in.

“Glasses are in that cupboard,” Stacie pointed as she opened the freezer and took out the bottle she kept there and a small bag of ice. Aubrey moved past her with a kiss to her shoulder blade and began taking five glasses out and setting them on the counter. “So, living together already?”

“Once the kneejerk fear was out of the way,” Aubrey turned and leaned against the counter. “Doesn’t it feel like we’re supposed to?”

“Yes.” Stacie closed the freezer and turned to set the bottle beside the glasses and the bag in the sink. She took a step forward and pressed against Aubrey. “Almost anyone else and I’d assume that I was in that ‘new love’ feeling that leads to all the U-Haul jokes and never seriously consider it but…” She leaned forward and found Aubrey’s mouth already parting for her. It was slow but deep; a dangerous combination despite their time together earlier in the evening. She felt Aubrey’s hands shift to her waist, always pulling her ever closer and Stacie’s pulse sped up.

“Don’t make me send Beca in there after you,” Chloe yelled at them. “Who knows what’ll happen this time.”

“Hey!” Beca objected. “I’m not drunk yet; I might be able to pry them apart without being affected by their lust aura.”

Chloe’s laugh filled the living room. “That’s totes the best way to put it but also I don’t know if you can.”

“Nothing,” Emily yelled back over Beca’s indignant squawk. “Nothing will happen because I can see into the kitchen from here and I know where the knives are.”

Laughing, Stacie pulled back and rested their foreheads together. “So, we’re really in this?” Stacie thought she could spend a lifetime looking into the eyes so close to hers and never be able to name all the shades of color she could see in them.

“With each other?” Aubrey smiled. “Or with them?”

“Yes.” Stacie said simply. She wanted it all. She wanted Aubrey. She wanted her best friend, her new friend and her cousin all living with her. That feeling of need and belonging wasn’t something she had ever wanted before and she felt she should be terrified at wanting and needing anyone this much but all she felt was equal measures of calm and excitement at the prospect.

“We’re all going to kill each other, being underfoot like that,” Aubrey pointed out. “You are aware of that? You’ve seen me; I can be a little… irrational… sometimes, when I get an idea stuck in my head.”

“You’re not alone in that. Chloe’s been known to have a good freak out or three, and -” she raised her voice. “Sorry Beca, but I’m sure I’m going to find something annoying about you eventually.”

“The first time you wake me up on a day I get to sleep in,” Beca promised. “Wrath. You will know it.”

“Looking forward to it,” Stacie assured her and forced herself to take a step back from Aubrey. “I’m certainly going to have my own moments where you’d like to strangle me… But I really think between those times we’re all going to be laughing our asses off because we are all fucking amazing.” She took a deep breath, trying to find words to explain the certainty she felt. “And I don’t know how but we all seem to fit together perfectly and I think we’ll balance each other out.” Stacie shrugged. “And Emily will be there to referee if needed and keep us in check.”

“If we can find a place and if we all still agree.” Aubrey ran her hand down Stacie’s arm. “There’s a lot that has to happen and we might not.”

“We will.” Stacie didn’t know how she knew but she could feel it in her bones that it would happen and probably a lot sooner than any of them thought possible.

“Then yeah, I’m in.” Aubrey nodded once. “I am so fucking in with all of you lunatics.”

Stacie kissed her again, quickly because if she let herself linger she wouldn’t be able to stop, and forced herself to turn away to dig the ancient drink mixer she’d gotten from her grandfather out of the silverware drawer.

“Aubrey,” Chloe sighed from the living room. “You of all people should know you can’t say fucking in front of Beca.”

“Is she giggling like a nine year old boy?” Aubrey grinned and helped Stacie add ice to their glasses.

“She’s turning red trying to hold it in, but yes,” Emily answered when Chloe started laughing.

“I can’t help it!” Beca defended herself. “Aubrey rarely curses and I love it each and every time.” There was a pause. “Plus it drops me into the gutter.”

“You never leave the gutter, let’s be honest.” Aubrey carefully picked up four of the glasses and headed back to the living room. Stacie put the ice back in the freezer and snagged a 2 liter of Coke from the fridge. Picking up the mixer, remaining glass and bottles, Stacie followed her out. “You’ve lived in the gutter as long as I’ve known you.”

“Guilty,” Beca said as they came back in. “It’s all part of my charm.”

Aubrey set the glasses down before sitting back down next to Beca. “You keep telling yourself that.” She poured the remainder of her can of Coke into one of the glasses, the rest following suit.

Stacie pulled the cover off the pour spout and began adding a generous amount of vodka to everyone’s glass. As she put the cover back on, Emily was already topping them all off with the 2 liter and Beca had picked up the mixer.

“Holy shit, I haven’t seen one of these in years!” She pressed the button on the side and the diamond shaped end began to spin. “My grandpa had one of these and I always loved it!” She stopped it for a second and put it in her drink and turned it back on, her smile turning wistful.

“Gramps had a whole bar set up downstairs,” Stacie smiled back at her. “He had a pool table set up in the middle of the room, a fireplace along one side, a piano in one corner and along the same wall he had a full bar.”

“One of us would play bartender and we’d pretend to order drinks.” Emily added, smiling when Beca handed her the mixer. “Used playing cards as cash.”

“Did you ever actually sneak the booze?” Aubrey asked, leaning back against Stacie.

“Nope,” Stacie laughed. “We never even considered it. It was all 7-Up or Pepsi and make-believe. God those were good times.” She smiled at her cousin and the memory. “Several of our families would gather for the big holidays in their narrow ass two story duplex. We never fit but somehow we made it work.”

“Most of us kids would spend the time downstairs, pretending we could shoot pool.” Emily handed the mixer to Chloe who took care of Stacie’s and Aubrey’s drinks before her own. “We’d even eat our dinner at the bar. I still don’t know how we didn’t drop our plates going down those death trap stairs.”

“Youthful luck.” Stacie reached out and handed Aubrey her glass and then took her own. Lifting it, she looked around at her newly forged family. Sentimental, sure, but that didn’t make it less true for all the speed in which it had happened. “A toast?”

“How about to new friends?” Emily lifted her glass.

“New family,” Chloe corrected, always able to read Stacie’s mind in a way she should have found worrisome.

“You guys better not make me cry before I’ve had enough to drink to blame it on,” Beca said. “I gave up on family long ago. Then Aubrey found me and now you guys…” She shook her head, blinking a few times. “To family.”

They all clinked their glasses together and took a drink.

“And,” Aubrey said, raising her glass a second time. “To the joys of house hunting.”

After they’d clinked and sipped, Stacie angled a little so she could see Beca. “Hey, Beca. I hear you know karate.”

“What?” Beca made a face. “That’s a physical activity and I make it a point to avoid physical activity.” She held up a finger when Aubrey drew breath. “Riding bikes and sex do not reside in the same level of physical activity that kicking people in the face does.”

“It does it you do it right,” Chloe said as she grabbed another slice of pizza.

Stacie eyed her cousin but Emily only shrugged. “I can’t argue even if I don’t want to hear my sister from another mother talk about it.”

“What is this conversation? Why do you even think that?” Beca took another drink and eyed her warily.

“Aubrey told me that you were up and ready to defend her honor at the slightest sound while she was injured.” Stacie grinned when Beca groaned at her.

“You told her?” She nudged Aubrey’s knee with her own. “Snitch.”

“Well,” Aubrey drawled. “I was actually telling her about forgetting I couldn’t put weight on it and that I dropped to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut. Telling her about waking you was just a bonus.”

Chloe and Emily were looking between them but Chloe waved her hand. “Care to fill us in?”

“I yelled when I fell, breaking a lamp in the process and woke Beca up,” Aubrey explained. “She was on her feet before her eyes were open and her hands were in prime chopping position.” Aubrey lifted hers and demonstrated. “I’d have expected fists to punch like a scrappy boxer but I’d have been wrong.”

“Maybe your new nickname should be Karate Kid,” Stacie declared. “But I will likely shorten that to just Kid.”

“Aren’t I older than you?” Beca asked, exasperated. “I accepted Starfish but I think I even prefer Boobs McGee over Karate Kid.”

“You don’t get to choose nicknames, Beca,” Aubrey admonished sweetly. “They’re given by those who love you and know you well.” She leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It means a lot that you are willing to defend me in my time of need.”

“Yeah yeah,” Beca muttered though her lips twitched into a grin. “You’re my person.”

“See? You love me.” Aubrey leaned over and pulled her into a hug. “You’re my person too.”

“Aw, that’s so cute.” Emily hopped out of her chair. “Movie time!”

“Nothing sappy,” Beca pleaded as Aubrey let her go. “Can we have action and explosions? And definitely not Karate Kid?”

“Sure,” Emily said easily, looking through Stacie’s collection. “Popcorn movies are fun and it gives me an excuse to make more before I have more pizza.”

Aubrey slid over and Stacie put an arm around her. “We’ll find a romantic drama you’ll like one day, Becs.”

Beca snorted. “You should know better by now than to say such things.”

Chloe looked up at them. “Is there room for me on the couch?”

“There’s maybe some room between Beca and I,” Aubrey said. “But it’s up to you if you wanna squish in or stretch out across us.”

“I’ll squish,” Chloe said as she stood. “Though that really almost leads to a horror movie cuddle, since I have someone to grab on either side.”

“Ooh!” Emily swiftly pulled a case from shelf and stepped to the TV. “An even better idea.” She stopped and turned to them. “Unless you guys don’t do horror?”

“Aubrey laughs her ass off,” Beca said as she scooted to the arm of the couch so Chloe could sit down. “So we’re good.”

Emily sighed. “I usually jump but we’ve seen this one enough that I have most of the jump scares down. Have you seen Cabin in the Woods?”

“That’s actually one of my favorites,” Aubrey laughed. “If you get freaked out you can have my spot and cuddle your cousin.” She paused and shrugged. “Or lay across our laps, I suppose.”

“Deal.” Emily put the disc in the player and turned off the lamp in the corner, leaving the room lit by the TV and the kitchen behind them.

“Did you know,” Chloe said idly as she reached for her drink again and took a sip. “That they have beds you can buy that are twelve feet across?”

“Chloe, you and Beca are the shortest people I know. What on earth would you need with an expanse like that?” Stacie laughed then broke off when Chloe shot her a sly grin and wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh my god, woman!”

“Dirty bird,” Aubrey said in admiration. “You’ll have to tell me more.”

“I’m out,” Emily declared and popped up out of the armchair she’d just settled in. “You’ve now put the forbidden image in my head and it’s all I’m going to see when I look at the four of you.”

“Wait wait,” Chloe laughed and reached over Beca to grab her wrist as she went by the couch. Stacie had seen the grin Emily tried to hide and knew she wasn’t going to leave. “I’m sorry, I’ll behave. I’ve just been sitting on that since this afternoon and couldn’t hold it in anymore. Come cuddle with us.”

Stacie picked up the remote and started the movie as Emily allowed herself to be pulled back around the couch. Beca had already pulled one of the throw pillows from behind her back and set it on her lap. As Emily carefully stretched out across their laps, Stacie felt like the Grinch as her heart swelled with affection and gratitude for the women in her life.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t loved and felt love in return before now. It was that she hadn’t expected a family beyond Emily and Chloe. She’d never found it important before pure chance had brought it into her life and now she couldn’t imagine her life without them.

She was in.

She was so fucking in.

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

A/N: One day I may revisit this series because we all know the four of them end up together. I have some very vague ideas about a secondary plot line about training to beat DSM in a race - I know nothing about racing so I don't know if I could pull that off convincingly even if it takes place behind the scenes. Obviously main plot would be them finally figuring things out but... I don’t know if ya’ll would be interested in more of this world?

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

The Revived - Chapter 16:

This is chapter 16 of the Dream SMP multichapter fic @dramaticsnakes​ and I wrote together! I hope you’ll enjoy!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Ghostbur, Tubbo, Ranboo, Michael

Word count: 3504

Cw: implied loneliness, discussions of bad coping mechanisms, jokes about drugs, guilt

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

The evening in the mansion was rather quiet and peaceful, all things considered. Michael had immediately handed the drawing to Wilbur, who reluctantly kept it close. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Tubbo or Ranboo to see it. Not so much because of his own appearance in it, but because he realized that the sight of his ghost counterpart would likely bring up some bad memories.

Another thing that was mostly quiet during the evening was the actual ghost counterpart, much to Wilbur’s dismay. It was simpler, to distract himself from it when Ranboo and Tubbo were talking to him during dinner, or when Michael wanted to show him something, but it bothered him nonetheless. Tubbo and Ranboo had let Wilbur stay in a medium-sized bed in an almost empty room, with a couple of boxes in the corner. Wilbur had promptly excused himself to it, once the silence in his mind, and the chaos from outside, became a little overwhelming.

“Ghostbur?” Wilbur asked, once the door was closed safely behind him.

There was a moment of silence before he heard a quiet gasp. “Oh! Hello!” Ghostbur said, sounding excited to be addressed, but disheartened nonetheless.

“Did you have a good day?” Wilbur asked, taking a deep breath, a little relieved to hear the familiar voice again. “You didn’t say much, so I wasn’t sure.”

“Ah, sorry!” Ghostbur said.

“There’s no need,” Wilbur said, gently. “You can talk if you want to, or remain quiet if you want.” He shrugged, because it shouldn’t matter to him after all.

“Right, right…” Ghostbur said, and Wilbur wasn’t entirely sure if it was understanding or defeat.

Wilbur strolled towards the bed, and sat down, at the tempting mattress. His limbs grew heavier at the feeling. He hummed, thinking of what to say. “Did you know Michael drew you?”

“Huh?” Ghostbur asked, a bit of interest creeping into his tone.

“He did! He made a little crayon drawing of you and Friend.” He laughed slightly at the sentence, “And me.”

“He did?” Ghostbur said, familiar excitement slipping into the words, “What does it look like?”

Wilbur went on to explain as many details of the drawings he could reasonably give, despite the minimalist art style. The ghost listened intently. It was strange, the peace Wilbur suddenly felt, as the ghost sounded gradually happier, and he was sitting there alone as the night grew darker outside. Eventually, the inevitability of sleep snuck up on Wilbur. It felt strange, unfair even, to leave Ghostbur hanging like that. Not that Wilbur concerned himself with it of course, but it was a bit sad to think about the silence Ghostbur would experience, as soon as Wilbur drifted off to sleep.

But it happened nonetheless, and the darkness surrounded him, carrying him to rest in a matter of minutes, all the events of the past day slipping away calmly. They wouldn’t bother him until he turned to the waking world again.

The next morning he awoke to the sounds of birds chirping and the sun barely visible, but still visible enough to fill the room with a faint light. He stretched in the bed, before lying there for a few moments. His mind wandered, mostly refreshing his mind of yesterday and if there was anything he was supposed to do again. He remembered Ghostbur’s gloominess from the day before with an awkward feeling in his chest. He mumbled, “Good morning.”

A few moments passed with no response. Wilbur slightly frowned, “Ghostbur?”

“Oh! You were talking to me!” Ghostbur’s tiredness showed through his voice. It wasn't tiredness from a lack of sleep that made your voice gently crack on itself, but rather an exhaustion that couldn’t be fixed with rest. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm.” Wilbur sat up from the bed, swinging his legs over so he was sitting normally. “I don’t remember being able to sleep that well in limbo, can you?” 

He hoped it was different for the ghost. That maybe he could also have a copy of Friend there for him instead of only having a faint grip of reality through Wilbur. “Nope. What did you do for fun here?” He heard a sigh from Ghostbur.

Wilbur pursed his lips. “I mean, it wasn’t really the best place in the universe.” He heard a small hum of acknowledgment. “Sometimes I walked down the tunnel. I would go ‘til my legs were tired. Then I tried to go for longer.” The words slipped out effortlessly, yet his voice became quieter the further he got into it, “I timed myself in my head, the quickest I could collapse was… two minutes? There were some seconds added on, but I can’t remember.” 

“Yeah, maybe I’ll try that.” His voice wasn’t enthusiastic- something Wilbur was grateful for.

Wilbur shook his head, “No no no, I’m a bit of a hypocrite. You shouldn't follow in my footsteps.”

“Don’t worry, maybe I’ll run the way you didn’t go! Wait- why shouldn’t I run where you did?”

Wilbur sighed, “I didn’t mean that. I just meant you shouldn’t do what I did. I’m just…” Wilbur wanted to say he wasn’t a good role model because while it certainly was the honest truth, he didn’t care for the truth all that much. Information gives you the upper hand. “It was just a dumb decision and I don’t want to waste your time.”

Ghostbur’s voice was clearly dismayed, “There’s nothing much else to do. I mean- sometimes I can imagine stuff in my head! Like when I would play with Michael!” His excitement picked up at the end, but it wasn’t at the same level it used to be.

Wilbur tried smiling, “Yeah. That’s good. You should continue doing that.”

“I try to, but then it makes me sad. The feeling doesn’t go away anymore.”

Wilbur would’ve stood up from the bed and walked downstairs, but he didn’t want to end the conversation. “Doesn’t go away anymore?”

Ghostbur sighed, “Yeah. When I was alive, I would talk to people. Then- I think something bad would happen. At least that’s what other people said. After it was over, I would be talking with friends again! It was nice because I felt better a lot sooner than other people would.” Ghostbur paused for a moment. “I’ve heard that people get sad for multiple days, and I’m glad that never really happened to me. I wish it didn’t happen in general though. They deserve to be happy.”

“Yeah… being sad isn’t that fun.” Wilbur felt oddly empty at the words, the simplification of them making him remember the past. The days he went without sleep, trying to figure out how to win the election. The look of concern he got when Tommy told him that he should rest. Yet, he supposed those days weren’t exactly sad. They weren’t cheery, but they weren’t sad either. They held an odd sort of void to him, blending together before he even knew they started. 

He’d known about it, partially. About how Ghostbur was shaped by the good and didn’t remember any of the bad things Wilbur had experienced, nor the bad memories he had on his own. Yet it was quite another to hear him say it. To hear him speak of it as if it was something natural. Feeling better faster than others, because the memories slipped away. Wilbur hadn’t realized that wouldn’t be the case anymore. Perhaps forgetting was more merciful.

Wilbur stood up from the bed, “I’m gonna go eat some breakfast.”

Ghostbur seemed excited once more as he clapped. “I love breakfast so much! It’s one of my favorite meals.”

Wilbur nodded as he let out a sound of amusement, “Good choice.”

He walked to the door of the room, opening it slowly, afraid of disturbing any peace inside the house. He peeked his head out and looked both ways, yet he couldn’t see anyone awake. He exited the room, closing the door behind him. He carefully made his way downstairs.

When Wilbur entered the barely set-up dining room, it was as if the entire place hadn’t quite woken up yet. Tubbo was languidly standing on one side of the room, half doing the dishes, and half making breakfast. On the floor on the other side, by an open box of whatever furniture or household items it contained, Ranboo was sitting up against the wall, flipping through a book. Michael was sitting right next to him, once again leaning over a piece of paper, happily doodling on it with crayons.

He walked to where Tubbo was, making his footsteps loud enough to be heard, but not enough to startle him. Tubbo turned around, a welcoming smile on his face, “Good morning.” 

Ghostbur cheerily replied, “Good morning!”

Wilbur stood next to the boy, looking over his shoulder, “Whatcha making?”

Tubbo shrugged. “I’m just cutting up some apples right now. Makin’ pancakes. American ones specifically, because Ranboo says English ones are just sad crepes.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes. He was surprised the centrist even had an opinion on food. He seemed to stay neutral on so many other regards, yet pancakes were where he drew the line, “What a weird guy. What should I start doing?”

Tubbo furrowed his eyebrows for a moment before speaking, “You’re a guest, you aren’t going to be the one cooking.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes as his tone returned gentle, “Like old times.”. He spent so many days making breakfast in L’Manberg that he hadn’t even thought that things were different. Most of those early moments were spent with Tubbo before he went undercover as a spy. They both couldn’t stay asleep or didn’t sleep soon enough and decided to just start the day. They formed the routine of the person in the kitchen, decided what they were making, and the other helped until it was finished.

Tubbo looked away, his posture more rigid. Wilbur pursed his lips, he ruined another moment. Another peaceful moment was torn out of Tubbo’s head by the hands of a person he only invited to his home out of pity. He forced words to roll off his tongue, ones that didn’t belong but had to be placed there, “Just joking, man.”

Tubbo hesitantly laughed, “Yeah,” He returned his gaze to the fruit in front of him. Wilbur slightly narrowed his eyes, not out of anger, but the confusion that persisted ever since his return. Everyone asserted that everything was different, but it all lingered in his head all the same. He could picture L’Manberg in its glory along with the uniforms that fit his soldiers perfectly. Yet no one else could. 

“Michael, no!” a voice from the other side of the room suddenly exclaimed, Wilbur immediately turned his head. He was met by the sight of Ranboo, worriedly trying to pull a piece of paper out of Michael’s mouth. Only a small part of it was stuck in there as if Michael had merely tried to lick it and had decided to chew on it afterward. “Let go, it’s not food.” Ranboo tried. With a sharp pull, Ranboo landed on his back with the paper in hand, and Michael looked disappointed.

Tubbo’s squinted, looking confused and concerned at the same time. “Didn’t we take away the yellow crayons?”

Ranboo sighed deeply, “Orange.”

“Michael doesn’t eat orange though?” Tubbo said.

Ranboo sat up and looked at Tubbo with a completely deadpan expression. “You haven’t considered the implications of light orange.”

Tubbo gasped with realization. “Oh,” he rushed towards the packet of crayons, picking out the orange ones hurriedly. Ranboo discarded the paper, and Michael watched with crossed arms, looking a bit annoyed at the whole ordeal. Wilbur couldn’t contain some light laughter as the scene unfolded.

Not too long after, breakfast was served. It was a lot less strained than Wilbur had perhaps feared. They chatted about Michael’s strange habits of eating crayons along with similar childhood stories. Light-hearted chuckles passed around the table, with Michael joining in occasionally. Even when they all finished their plates, they continued to sit. They only started moving when Michael seemed fussy with his high chair. Tubbo quickly took him out, setting him on the floor again. 

Tubbo picked up the dishes from the table. “I’ll clean these up. You and Michael can play for a bit.” Wilbur nodded and got up from his seat at the same time as Ranboo. Wilbur felt a pulling sensation on his pant leg, he goofily smiled when he looked down and realized it was Michael. 

Ranboo took the plates from Tubbo’s hands. “You cooked breakfast, it’s only fair that I wash the dishes.”

Tubbo gently pulled on them back. “And you played with Michael all morning.”

Ranboo rolled his eyes as he set the plates onto the kitchen counter. “Oh my, it’s so hard to be a Dad. Wow, it’s so difficult to just watch a child when the child is still waking up.”

Tubbo groaned, “I can’t believe you.”

Ranboo nodded. “I make such good points that you can’t even try.” While he seemed disinterested in the beginning, a small smile appeared on his face.

Tubbo sighed, “Yeah. I really can’t compete with the world’s best dad and husband. If only I could wash the dishes to pay him back.”

“Awww, I think they’re flirting again,” Ghostbur cooed. 

Ranboo let out a laugh, “Sure sure, maybe tomorrow.” He quickly leaned down and planted a quick kiss on Tubbo’s forehead. 

Tubbo scoffed, “Bitch.” He playfully punched Ranboo’s shoulder before heading off in Wilbur's direction. Wilbur even forgot he was there, wrapped inside the domestic peace of their family. He blinked and looked down at Michael, the child still pulling gently on Wilbur’s pant leg. 

“We’ll be in Michael’s room,” Tubbo called out to Ranboo. Ranboo nodded and continued putting the dishes in the sink. Tubbo started walking up the stairs and Michael quickly followed. Wilbur was walking a bit slower than before. Cautiously perhaps, though he wasn’t certain why. He smiled at Michael.

“Ooh, what are we going to play with Michael?” Ghostbur asked, though it was said in such a way, that he likely didn’t expect a response. Wilbur let out a relieved breath, at least a little comforted by the fact that Ghostbur had been talking this morning. It was going to be alright. Wilbur held on to the faint thread of a connection for now, each word from the ghost feeling like his one chance to take a breath. 

As they returned to Michael’s barely furnished room, Wilbur almost felt as if he’d settled into a routine. It was silly really, having been there for just one night, but the walls seemed familiar. Familiar in a way that was a lot less suffocating than most familiar walls Wilbur could think of. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to settle into that feeling. It wasn’t there to stay, but he could pretend it was for the time being. Though the warmth almost seemed to burn him.

Soon enough, he found himself sitting on the floor, playing with little toys shaped like various animals and other mobs. While Wilbur found it difficult to figure out exactly what they were playing, he released a scream from a toy he’d dubbed the Skeleton King, as Michael played the chicken protagonist, defeating the king for the last time. Ghostbur chimed in every once in a while, despite him knowing even less of what was going on. Ghostbur suggested that the chicken hero had a friend who was a ghost cow, and Wilbur had decided to incorporate it into the story. Partially just to please Ghostbur, though the smile on Michael’s face was priceless.

He looked over in Tubbo’s direction. The boy was feeling the walls when Wilbur realized they had a bit of crayon on them. Not much, but enough to notice if you looked close enough. He gasped quietly at the thought in his mind. He reached in his pocket, feeling the sugar cane in his hand. A small grin slipped onto his face as he discreetly crushed it up, forming a small pile of sugar in his hand. 

He shuffled slightly towards the edge of the table, gesturing for Michael to come along. The toddler tilted his head but walked over to where Wilbur was. Wilbur barely resisted laughing as he put the sugar on the table in a thin line. It wasn’t the neatest one in the world, but it would have to do. 

Wilbur spoke loud enough for Tubbo to hear, “Alright, first you get it in a line. It can be a bit hard to do sometimes, but you can always use the edge of a sword or a piece of paper if you’re really desperate.” Tubbo raised an eyebrow as his eyes widened at the scene. He immediately ran over, picking Michael up as he quickly placed the child farther away from Wilbur. Michael, on the other hand, didn’t understand the situation as he attempted to run back to Wilbur. 

Tubbo grabbed onto Michael’s shoulders before he could go far, turning the zombie piglin around to see him. His voice was tense, but still light enough. “Michael, how about you play tag with Dad for a bit, okay?” 

“Tubbo doesn’t sound okay,” Ghostbur supplemented. Although Wilbur could’ve been able to read the room himself, the ghost’s voice was always a nice echo in his mind.

Michael huffed, looking between Tubbo and Wilbur. Tubbo nodded, showing him the direction of the door. He even slipped a smile into his voice, although the one on his face seemed tense, “You can go down the stairs by yourself.”

Michael squealed excitedly as he ran out of the room, his footsteps heard as he excitedly ran down. Tubbo closed the door behind him as his eyes met Wilbur’s. A foolish grin sat on Wilbur’s face, “Your reaction was priceless!” He cackled as he casually pushed around the sugar on the table.

Tubbo sharply exhaled, “Wilbur.” His voice was sharp and jagged in a way Wilbur didn’t quite expect.

“It’s just some sugar in a line. C’mon, man, you can taste it yourself.” He picked a bit of sugar from off the table and put it in his mouth, making slightly exaggerated expressions as he emphasized that it wasn’t anything bad.

Some of Tubbo’s edge disappeared, but at least half of it remained, “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t hurt Michael it’s just-” He cut himself off with a sigh. He looked away from Wilbur’s gaze and back at the wall with some crayon on it. “L’Manberg.”

Wilbur furrowed his brow, “What about it?”

They waited a few moments in silence before Tubbo hesitantly spoke, “Why did you start L’Manberg?”

Wilbur stated his answer automatically, “To declare independence from Dream. You were there, Tubbo.”

Tubbo shook his head, “No no, what was the original purpose of L’Manberg?”

Wilbur thought for a moment. Tommy’s disks flew into his mind, but L’Manberg was never really centered on them, only Tommy and Dream did. He drifted onto the idea of community, but that was found after the nation was formed. Power maybe? Power seemed like a nice answer, but it somehow didn’t feel right on his tongue. He snapped his fingers as a look of realization came across his face, “Oh! We were gonna set up a drug empir- oh.”

History really does repeat itself in an ironic way.

Tubbo pursed his lips as he couldn’t meet Wilbur’s gaze, “Yeah.”

“Tubbo…” Wilbur’s voice trailed off before he continued again, “I mean, L’Manberg is over and done with. It’s not too big of a problem.” Wilbur scooped up the remaining sugar on the table and dumped it into his mouth.

Ghostbur seemed flabbergasted, “What are you eating? It seems… good? Is that the right word?” Wilbur nodded but Ghostbur couldn’t see.

Wilbur moved his gloves against each other, removing the rest of the remaining substance from himself. “Sugar never really loses its touch.” He stood up from the table. He slightly frowned when he spotted the cloudy look in Tubbo’s eyes. “You… okay?”

Tubbo met Wilbur’s gaze for a moment before looking towards the door. “I know it was yesterday when you read the destruction of L’Manberg, really, it’s a new day. But-” Tubbo shakily exhaled, “Just because you got to destroy all of your hard work, doesn’t mean you’ll get to destroy mine too.”

Wilbur sympathetically looked at the boy as he walked closer. Tubbo tensed up noticeably. Wilbur stopped a few steps in front of Tubbo. “Tubbo.” A gentle assertiveness filled his voice, “Tubbo look at me.” Tubbo narrowed his eyes for a moment but met Wilbur’s gaze. Tears laced the boy’s eyes, the shine of them giving it away.

Wilbur took a breath, “Dream is in prison. L’Manberg is… gone.” The word felt bitter on his tongue. “I don’t have anything against you. I- I care about you being happy. I wouldn’t do anything to purposely ruin it.” Wilbur opened his arms for a hug.

Tubbo stepped forward as Wilbur’s chest lept and a small grin went across his face, but Tubbo side-stepped at the last moment, opening the door just a bit behind Wilbur. Before the door closed, Tubbo mentioned a whisper into the air, “It’s okay.” The words seemed to waver slightly as if they were meant to comfort himself and not Wilbur. The door clicked and he was alone once more.

[cutieodonoghue]

dark gray (epilogue)

summary: Killian Jones operates a lighthouse in the middle of nowhere, preferring a life of isolation, until one day a woman and a baby wash up on his little island and change his life forever.

read it on: ao3, ff.net

and also catch up on Tumblr!

a/n: it seems everyone wants an epilogue! Pretty much all fluff, so if that’s not your thing, I’m not sure how you got here… haha 

Thanks for all of your support again. I really, really appreciate all of your kind words and gestures of kindness. Hope you like this epilogue!

///

“We’ll buy a house in Storybrooke and adopt a dog. We’ll give Henry a few brothers and sisters. Your parents will adore me. And we’ll spend far too much time forgetting that any of this ever happened. But, I do reckon we’ll argue about paint chips while we’re working on remodeling the house. Unfortunately.”

///

Epilogue

SPRING

In early spring, Killian and Emma buy a house a few blocks away from her parents, not wanting to be too far from town, but still needing their own space. 

It’s a beautiful home on the corner, with a huge backyard and a generous floor plan. There are three bedrooms that they can fill with children, or so Killian imagines. 

He learns that Emma really likes big windows to let light in, and he tells her that it makes sense, because since they met, she’d brought a lot of light into his life. She rolls her eyes at him, but he knows she appreciates it.

There isn’t a lot to unpack on the first day, with the sum total of their furniture coming from Emma’s abandoned apartment. They don’t need much. Not yet.

He finds Emma sitting in their bedroom once Henry’s been put to sleep in his own bedroom just up the hall. She seems tired, maybe a little emotionally worn out from everything that happened.

“Hey,” Killian says, sitting beside her. He rubs her lower back, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You alright, love?”

Emma meets his eyes, giving him a small smile. “Yeah. I’m just tired. It was a long day.”

He hums knowingly. They stare at one another for a few moments, silent. Killian finds that he can’t stop grinning. This has been a day he’s looked forward to for a while. The opportunity to live in a beautiful home with his family is beyond exciting.

“We should get married.”

“Married?”

He nods, hoping she knows he’s serious. Killian stands up so he can kneel in front of her. “I love you so much, Emma. I want you to know I’ll always, always be by your side. Will you marry me?”

She tilts her head to the side just slightly. Her eyes become watery and she reaches for his hand to squeeze it. “I can’t argue with that.” 

“Is that a yes?”

Emma laughs a little. “Yes. It is.”

They decide to have their wedding as quickly as they can, not wanting to waste any time. 

The idea both confuses and delights her parents. Mary Margaret immediately wants to help, something Emma is grateful for, and David questions him for about an hour in the privacy of his study about his true intentions.

Over the course of a few far too short weeks, Killian works on fixing a few odds and ends around the house while Emma plans an intimate wedding for them.

He learns her natural routines and schedules. Tries to fit as much time in with her as he can in between work and trying to prepare for both a wedding and a baby.

She introduces him to her friends. Belle the town librarian, Robin and Regina the happily married barkeepers, and Ruby the fashion designer. 

He meets friends of his own at work at the harbor, too. Will, who keeps him on his toes, and Graham who would rather work in the forest. They go for beers on nights when Emma’s friends are over helping with wedding prep.

He can’t help but laugh when they clash heads over paint chips. 

She’s right. Of course she’s right. She always is.

They form traditions out of game nights and group dinners. Their friends watch Henry on occasion, and in turn, Killian offers them free outings on the water on a ship that he helps run as part of his job.

They get married at the end of the spring, under a canopy of flowers and hanging twinkle lights, in Emma’s parent’s backyard. 

Henry wears a little suit to match Killian’s, while Emma makes the most stunning bride in a white dress that flows to the ground. She’s glowing, absolutely radiant, though she worries that her baby bump is too obvious to keep hiding it from everyone.

So, once they say “I do”, and find themselves slow dancing at the party afterward, Killian asks in a low whisper pressed to her ear, “Are you ready to tell Mom and Dad?”

Emma laughs a little, leaning her head back so she can meet his eyes. “You’re going to call them that all the time now, aren’t you?”

“If it will irritate your father, absolutely.”

His wife- his wife!- tilts her head at him, giving him a soft sigh of disapproval. “We should tell them. Mom’s going to flip.”

Mary Margaret does, in fact, flip.

/

SUMMER

The summer brings them a new friend called Wilby, who enjoys bones, licking Henry’s toes, and long walks along the beach. 

Summer brings a nasty sticky heat and messy ice cream cones. Henry’s favorite flavor is chocolate. Emma’s is mint chocolate chip, which she eats by the pint balanced on her pronounced baby bump. 

In the summer, there are fireworks on the Fourth of July, town celebrations, visits to Granny’s Diner for lunch during Emma’s time off work, outings on boats, trips to the beach, and nights spent sitting outside with friends that seem to always be over to visit.

Emma’s sitting in the grass with Henry and Mary Margaret, laughing genuinely at her mother while she squeezes their son’s hands. 

Ruby’s running around with Wilby, complaining about how massive the yard is, while Belle and Will sit at the picnic table with Robin, Regina, and a pack of cards.

“So.” Neal says, a gentle unassuming smile on his face, approaching Killian at his spot on the back porch steps. “It’s been a few months. What’s it like, being married?” 

Neal offers him a cold beer. He takes it, shaking his head while he laughs. “Why? Are you thinking of getting married soon?”

Neal sits beside him, sighing as he drapes his arms around his knees at chest level. “Maybe.” He sips his drink. “So what’s it like?”

If he had to define it, he doesn’t think he could. It’s not been without its highs and lows, but for the most part, they’ve enjoyed peace. He thinks they deserve it, after everything that they’ve been through.

Again, Killian shakes his head. He stares at Emma, at the way she throws her head back to laugh at something Ruby says to her. At the soft stray curls of her ponytail. At the gentle swell of her body in the seventh month of pregnancy.

He can tell even from several feet away that she’s glowing. 

“It’s home.”

Neal considers him briefly. He hums into his bottle and has another sip. 

It’s a bit awkward, because he and Neal haven’t shared as much time together as they should. In fact, if he thinks about it, he and Neal hardly know one another. 

All he knows is that Emma and Neal were once in a troubled relationship, and now they were friends. If they could even call it that.

“Thank you.” Neal says with a tiny smile. “For giving her everything she needs. God knows I was never enough for her.”

Killian isn’t sure what to say, so he smiles back before looking ahead again. “How did you meet Emma?”

Neal seems to think about it, maybe searching for a good place to start. He takes a steadying breath to prepare for whatever he’s about to say. 

“I lost my parents growing up. Mom… ran off with another guy and Dad went criminally insane.” He stares down at his beer. “Left me to fend for myself. I met Emma at a gas station in Washington state. She was on the run like me.”

Killian found himself surprised. Knowing what he did about Neal, he hadn’t thought too deeply about his background. It surprised him even more to think that he could understand him. After all, he himself was running from the whole world. For years.

“What were you running from?”

Neal shakes his head. He laughs in spite of himself, a soft chuckle from his nose. “I still don’t know, man.”

He clears his throat and sets the bottle down on the step beside him.

“I was the same way. Running. Hiding.” Killian admits. He shakes his head. “That hole in your chest doesn’t go away, does it? Nothing helps.”

Neal clenches his jaw as he averts his gaze. “No.”

On a soft breath, Killian stands and finds a football in the grass nearby. He kicks it toward Neal to get his attention. 

The last time he’d played football was with Liam, years ago, but it was clear to him that Neal needed something powerful to pull him out of himself. He needed a brother.

“My brother and I used to kick the ball back and forth until the sun went down.” Killian reminisced. He tipped his head back toward the yard. “What do you say?”

Neal offers him a shrug. “I might be rusty… but sure.”

On their way into the yard, Killian stops to help Emma to her feet. She sways into him, caught off balance, and he chuckles, asking, “You okay, love?”

She hums, sighing softly. “Just a little lopsided.” Emma glances past him at Neal, who now has the ball scooped up onto the top of his shoe. “You guys are going to kick the soccer ball around?”

“For just a little while.” Killian says. “Time to finally get some use out of the yard.” He notices her attention rests on the man from her past. “Okay?”

“It’s fine,” she assures him. “I’m glad you’re making friends.”

Later that night, while he and Emma prepare for bed in the bathroom, he lifts his eyebrow at her in the mirror. “Are you sure you’re alright with me befriending Neal?”

Emma stops brushing her teeth to spit into the sink. When she finishes rinsing her mouth, she shrugs. “It’s just a little weird, but it’s fine.”

“Like… how, weird?” Killian wonders. He turns around so he can lean against the bathroom counter with his hand over his opposite wrist.

His wife sighs. She presses her hands to her lower back. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m nervous that now that things are finally kind of normal between us, something will change.”

“So Neal feels weird to you.”

Emma cringes at that. “No. Not really.”

Killian hums. “Did you know that he’s taking online classes? He’s trying to get a degree to teach.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “No. I didn’t.”

“I think he’s changed. For the better.”

Emma turns to look for something on the counter. “Well, then all the best to you and your new bromance. You have my blessing.”

He rolls his eyes, smiling, and steps away from the sinks so he can kiss her temple. “You don’t have to be okay with it if you’re not.”

“He needs a friend. You’re the best one I can think of around here.”

With a clever little smirk, Killian lifts a brow. “Are you saying I’m your best friend?”

Emma, clearly exhausted, rolls her eyes. Hard. “Killian, I’m carrying your child.”

“And you’re doing it so well, my dear.” Killian offers her a kiss. “I love you. You’re my best friend. In case you were wondering.”

A little blush finds her cheeks and her lashes flutter against her cheeks. “You’re my best friend too.”

/

FALL

Storybrooke in the autumn is gorgeous, and it’s Emma’s very favorite thing. She tells him she loves the way the colors turn the streets burnt orange and red, and even though he’s seen fall before, he swears it’s so much better through her eyes. 

She asks him to take them for a drive through the forest on Sunday afternoons so they can show Henry the colors of the trees while Wilby hangs out the window, tongue wagging in the wind. 

On mildly cold nights, she comes to bed wearing her bright red flannel pajamas and socks, explaining that she’s freezing, but an hour later she’ll change because she’s too hot.

Henry likes the leaves that pile up in their backyard. He really likes the pumpkin bread that Mary Margaret brings over for them to share, and the way David’s pickup truck sounds when it starts.

The autumn is when Emma goes into labor. She grits her teeth and tells him as much while she’s trying to fold laundry one late afternoon. It’s a blur of lights and colors and sounds. A blur of long hours standing and sitting at her side. A blur of emotions when it’s finally time to push. 

Brushing back her sweaty hair from her face, allowing her to squeeze the circulation out of his one and only hand, encouraging her as much as she’ll let him. 

And when it happens, when the first cries break the surface tension, everything else fades away. 

Ten tiny fingers. Ten tiny toes. 

Pointy little ears and soft dark hair. 

Shrieks that turn into gentle whimpers. 

Emma, Emma, Emma.

He kisses her soundly and whispers, “You did it. I’m so proud of you, love.”

She laughs a little, her eyes filled with tears. She’s unable to look away from the newborn on her chest.

“She’s so beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.”

Emma looks up at him with a glare. 

He chuckles. “I’m only teasing. She clearly gets it all from you.”

His heart has never been as full as it is that early autumn morning, standing in a hospital room with his newborn daughter in his arms and his life forever changed.

The town throws an autumn festival, full of games and food along Main Street. There’s a hayride that one of his closest friends, Robin, takes them on free of charge.

There are fewer things he thinks are sweeter than seeing his son in a Halloween costume a few weeks later, dressed up like Peter Pan, except maybe seeing his newborn daughter as Tinkerbell.

For many years on the island, Killian ignored holidays. There was no need to celebrate when it was just him, and even fewer reasons while he wallowed in sorrow and grief. 

There were a lot of reasons to be thankful this Thanksgiving. 

Friends. Family. 

It had been so long since he’d had either, but it felt like he’d known them forever. 

Finally gathered around the dining table, Killian takes a long look around at the faces of his friends and family. 

Emma sits with their daughter in a wrap pressed to her chest, her soft swaths of dark hair peeking out on top, so gentle and sweet. Henry sits between them, happily digging into his meal without any thought. 

“I’d like to make a toast.” Killian says, standing. He clears his throat. “Thank you for being here. It means a lot to Emma and I that you would choose to come to our home and spend today with us. That’s sort of what I’d like to toast, actually, uh… not all of you know this, but for a good portion of my life, I chose to isolate myself. I literally lived on an island. I had nothing to celebrate, and I didn’t want to, either.”

Pausing, he meets Emma’s eyes and returns her smile.

“But this year, I have so much to celebrate. And I want to thank all of you for that. You welcomed me into your community without a second thought. I’m thankful this year for my family.” He looks to his children, then to David and Mary Margaret. He turns to the rest of the table. “And for your friendship. Without it, I would be as lost as I once was.

“So, a toast, to the community we have. And to living a life worth celebrating.”

“Here here!”

/

WINTER

Winter brings him full circle. 

On the first snowfall of the year, Killian wakes to Emma’s excited gasps and her hands on his arm, shaking him awake.

“It’s snowing! Killian, it’s snowing!”

She’s out of bed faster than he can open his eyes all the way, already rushing up the hall to get their son out of his crib. With a small smile, he waits for her to return, both of their children in her arms.

She’s breathless, her hair still a mess from sleep, yet she’s smiling so happily. “Come on, Daddy, we gotta go out and get some of the snow!”

Henry giggles. “Daddy go!”

They work as a team to prepare the children for their first snow of the year, and the moment they step outside, Emma turns to him, absolutely beaming.

It’s been a year. A year since the ocean brought her to him.

He can still remember the day she asked him to take her out into the first snow of the season, her eyes shining just as much as they do now. 

She doesn’t have to say anything for him to know that this is a meaningful day for her. For them.

In one sense, the first snow is a reminder of the beginning of their relationship. The day they’d started to see one another as they truly were.

If there’s anything this year has taught him, there’s a lot to love about learning Emma and Henry in a world far from the chilly, wintery sea.

Henry loves the snow. He catches snowflakes on his mittens and keeps calling out for them to show them. And then there’s footprints in the snow, and tasting snow, and falling in the snow. Crying because the snow is too cold, but laughing the moment he’s safe in Killian’s arms.

And when they go back inside, all Henry wants to do is rush straight back out into it again.

Storybrooke at Christmastime is a feast of colors, foods, and celebration. 

They spend a lot of time with family and friends, gathered together at Granny’s for her special holiday menu. Killian and Emma build a snowman that Henry helps them decorate. Mary Margaret and David help them find the perfect, massive tree that goes in their foyer.

On Christmas morning, well before the children have stirred, his wife finds him sitting in front of the fireplace, lined with stockings, reading a book that he swore he’d read months ago. When he was on the island, he could read several books in one sitting. Now, not so much.

“I have a present for you.” Emma says, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind.

Killian lifts an eyebrow. “It’s not Christmas until the children are up.”

She laughs into his ear and then joins him on the sofa, a wrapped gift in her hands. “I know… just trust me.”

His mind races, unsure of what this secret gift could possibly be that it would require him to just trust her. 

Taking a deep breath, she extends the present toward him. “I’ve been working on this all year.”

He hesitates, his thumb finding the crease in the wrapping paper corner. “Oh, so no pressure, then.” He winks at her, smirking. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Quickly, he pulls the paper away from what lies beneath. At first, he isn’t sure what he’s looking at. It’s a hardcover book with the word “Journal” in sprawling cursive on the front.

He flips the book open, curious.

On the first page, there’s a date, a small entry, and a photograph. The date is Christmas Eve, only a year ago, and the entry reads:

Today, you told me that you were home here. This journal is going to be a document of that. 

The photo is of he, Emma, and Henry sitting in their favorite booth at Granny’s. He remembers Mary Margaret insisting that they take a picture on his very first day in town. Now, he’s glad he has it.

While he looked absolutely miserable physically, he can still remember not feeling any pain until he had to lie down to sleep that night. 

He flips the page. Another entry. The following day.

“I don’t think I’m fond of peppermint, Emma.” But you still smelled like peppermint all day today. 

Killian laughs under his breath, smirking at the photo she’d clearly taken of him incognito, biting a candy cane.

He continues to flip through the journal, addicted to seeing Emma’s insights of their experiences.

We argued over paint chips for exactly 3 minutes before you doubled over laughing and let me choose all the right shades of white. Thank you.

A photo of the paint chips in question follows.

Killian continues turning the pages until he finds one day in particular that finally pulls him out of the gift.

Their wedding day.

You smelled like the ocean today.

A photo of he and Henry standing on the beach much later in the night follows. They’re both barefoot, standing in the sea foam. He hadn’t realized she was taking pictures. 

Looking up at Emma, he finds her nervously biting on her lower lip.

“You did this everyday?”

She nods. “Yeah.” He flips the page. “Just like your mom’s journal. Except this one, I hope, gives you different feelings when you look at it.”

Killian hums. “It does.” 

He can’t help but smile, studying a photo of his son kissing Emma’s growing bump just a few months ago. 

“Look at today.”

He does as she asks, flipping all the way to the end of the journal. The final entry is a little bit longer than the others he’s had the time to read.

This year, you: bought a house, got married, got a new job, made a lot of friends, had a baby, adopted a dog, watched a lot of cable TV, celebrated every holiday, loved your kids with everything you had, and spent every day in between making a difference. Thank you for choosing us, Killian.

A photo of him and the children sitting at the breakfast table follows. His baby daughter in one arm, Killian’s singing one of those silly nursery rhymes along with Henry, who sits at the table beside him, beaming brightly with crinkles by his eyes. 

He remembers the giggles, the fit of laughter that came from Henry’s belly, and the way his sticky fingers felt against his cheeks and lips when he leaned in close enough. 

The photo is pure joy. A true encapsulation of the year they’ve shared.

Like before, he isn’t sure how Emma went unnoticed taking this picture, but he’s glad she did. 

“This year was special for a lot of reasons, but the biggest reason is that it was your first year away from the island.” Emma says. “And I wanted to give you something that proved that it was worth it. That proved you were here and it mattered.”

He looks up at her, tears welling in his eyes. He manages to smile softly at her. “Thank you.”

Emma puts her right hand on his face, rubbing her thumb against the apple of his cheek. “I know I’ve said it before, but thank you for being there that day. For me and Henry. This book is proof that we’re here, too.”

Killian turns his head to kiss her palm. He sets the book aside and determinedly lays Emma back on the sofa with his lips pressed to hers. She runs her fingers through his hair as they languidly share a stolen moment, free of distraction and interruption.

Before he can get too carried away, Killian breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against Emma’s. 

She bites on her lip after her tongue darts out to soothe it, a twinkle in her eye. “What was that for?”

“For giving this year to me.” He looks into her eyes, cocking an eyebrow. “Quite literally.”

She hums sweetly, tugging at his hair. “Here’s to seventy more, my love.”