#i like that i can walk away at the end of the day actually feeling good about what I've written

[xinganhao]

🎸 vernon dates rockstar!reader. (5)

catch you when i can series masterlist ★ vernon x rockstar!reader who’s a foreigner in an international rock band 📼 part five, a.k.a the one where a choice has to be made

ⓘ international rockstar!f!reader, long distance relationship, established relationship, angst, best read in order + headcanons & addtl. content under the cut. final part. ♫ part one | part two | part three | part four. ✉︎ dedicating this to vernon!rockstar anon, forever n always. ♡

🎧 suggested/accompanying listening for while you read. without further ado.

🎧 — “it's a sunday night, a night never to be trusted for emotions. so, a lot of you guys are gonna head home and either receive texts in the dead of night, or actually compose them that are not going to be fully representative of how you feel for the rest of the day, for the rest of your week.”

This is what the press know:

Six months after the two of you went public, you and Vernon made the mutual decision to end your five-year relationship. While you both remain mum on the reason behind the breakup, insider sources claim that the pressures of a high-profile, public relationship got to you both. The two of you are committed to remain good friends despite the split.

Only one out of those three 'facts' are true.

This is what the fans know:

Vernon is Mr. Perfectly Fine. There are moments where the façade slips, like when his breakup is brought up during a fansign, or somebody asks about it on Weverse. But, for the most part, he does his job and he does it well. He performs. He produces. He looks like the breakup hasn't affected him at all.

That Vernon can still function is true. That he's unaffected isn't.

This is what you know:

Vernon will be better off without you. A long-distance relationship was never going to be easy. Add in the factor of coming from two vastly different entertainment industries? Yeah, the two of you would have never worked out. You're doing more harm than good. Breaking up with Vernon is the kindest thing you can do to him. He'll get over you eventually.

You are wrong on all accounts.

This is what Vernon knows:

He loves you. Plain and simple.

He wants you. He can't remember a time where he hadn't; he can't imagine a time where he won't.

He will let you leave, let you walk away, if you think that's what's necessary. But he refuses to think that it's right. That it's fair.

In a perfect world— or at least a world that's just a little bit nicer to the both of you— he would get to keep you.

That much is true.

🎧 — “your friends, and your brain, and your morals, and your conscience have all trained you not to respond. but i'm gonna go against the grain and i'm going to suggest that the next time you get a message from the one you love, the only person in the world you love and can't talk to, that you respond.”

11203km • 17m ♫ John Mayer - Edge of Desire

11203km [🎸] welcome back. Liked by 11203km

11203km never left. — 🐻‍❄️

🎧 — “life is just too short to keep playing the game. 'cause if you really want somebody, you'll figure it out later. if you love someone, don't say a word. just come over.”

[FIN.]

[megpie71]

For people who really have trouble with not reacting to things (I'm one of them) I offer my handy hints for looking less like an intolerant buffoon on the internet.

You don't have to respond. You can just go "okay, that's obvious nonsense", and depending on the type of nonsense, skip to the next post, or if necessary, block the person posting it for a bit.

You don't have to post your response. I tend to write long rambling responses to things and then just close the window and delete them. If you have problems with not hitting "reblog", write up your response outside the Tumblr application / window - use a different program, write it up... and then, just don't post it. I have a text file which sits on my computer called "Things That Didn't Get Posted to Tumblr" which contains the half-finished rants, raves, rambles and similar that I started writing, and then didn't post. Lets me get the feelings out, lets me figure out what I'm thinking (I actually think in text, so I have to see things written down to understand what I'm thinking / feeling about a thing) but not necessarily things other people need to see.

You don't have to post your response immediately. Write it up, let it sit for a while (preferably a while where you walk away and do Something Else) before reading it again, and deciding whether it's worthy of posting. Sometimes, taking a break and coming back to something is a good way of disengaging your brain from the white-hot fury of the moment, and when you come back, you realise you've grabbed the wrong end of the stick, or that you're reacting far too strongly to someone being silly... and you can choose one of the other options instead.

Also, I would strongly urge making the most of the dashboard filtering tools available to you, like blocking people. I have a large and robust killfile, and I track why I blocked people and when. This serves two purposes - firstly, it means that a block from me isn't absolutely permanent forever and ever amen (It's usually about 6 months in the first instance, and then a further 6 months on a watchlist). Secondly, if I'm on something of a blocking spree on a particular day, it's a hint to me this might be a good time to put the Tumblr down and go do something else that's less annoying. But I will always, always have a killfile and an active block list, and I don't subscribe to people who annoy me. Doing this at least means you're not deliberately putting yourself in a position where you're getting prodded in tender places on a regular basis.

Actually, I think this does link in with a wider conversation that I have been thinking for a while Tumblr maybe needs to hear.

There's a common meme on this site now that no one here has any reading comprehension skills. The best one is, of course, the original "No offense but reading comprehension on this site is piss poor/How dare you say we piss on the poor" post, which gave rise to the nickname "pissing-on-the-poor website". There's also the "I like pancakes/How dare you say waffles are terrible" one. Both of these are great, because they're silly jokey ways to show two closely related phenomena that are probably the commonest ways to fail a reading comprehension check.

The first is someone reading certain catchphrases or buzzwords in the post, and based on their own biases or prior experiences or whatever else, their brain simply fills in what it reckons the poster is saying on the topic. Instead of reading the rest of the sentence and digesting it, the reader then just uses their assumption as the interpretation, and reacts to that.

The second is closely related, because it also uses biases and prior experiences to to interpret the post, but rather than ignoring what the OP is actually saying, it instead performs a series of gymnastic leaps to construct a whole new assertion on the OP's behalf that simply isn't there.

There's also a third, of course; that one is people being so eager to feel smug and superior over someone they perceive as Bad that they wilfully assume the OP is stupid or being serious when they're actually joking. And if the reader hadn't been so blinded by their desire to get to look down on someone, they'd have seen the very obvious tells, sometimes even including sentences like "Obviously this is a joke." (I think we have all seen examples of these. Also, in a bid to avoid as many reading comprehension fails here as possible, this does not include misunderstandings borne entirely of neurodiverse struggles to parse intentions; but, neurodiverse people are just as likely as neurotypicals to have ego play a part in their misinterpretation of others, and that is what this point is about.)

And the thing is... actually, we are all capable of any of these. I imagine a sizable chunk of people reading until this point were probably thinking "Lol, yeah, people are so stupid," but na, nage, I'm not having that. Literally everyone does these sometimes. And it becomes a particular risk when the topic under discussion is something that might brush against an issue that is a pressure point for you, like a social justice talking point that you are forever having to argue with internet strangers about, for example. Your brain holds schemas! And sometimes it likes to pattern match things before it deigns to tell you about its findings! And that can hit you right in the emotions, which if they are strong enough, really can shut down all rational thought.

But. This brings me to the real point of the post.

Because the thing is, we have all saddled up and gone to war under these conditions, or at the very least been strongly tempted to. And a vital skill that literally everyone has to learn, sooner or later, is:

Before you hit 'reply', double check the post to make sure you fucking understood it.

And that does not mean "simply re-read, confirm your bias, carry on." It means, "Is it possible to read this post from the point of view of someone who doesn't intend it the way I've taken it? If I put myself in the shoes of an innocent, could they still have written these words? Is there another interpretation for these phrases?"

And you do have to do this step. You simply do have to. Because if your desire is to 'clap back' and call someone a gargling knobskin made of garbage, fuck me sideways but you must see that it is imperative that you check if they actually deserve that kind of treatment first. You cannot spend your time claiming that we must all choose to be kind and then not bother doing your due diligence before screaming a person's various and assorted bigotries at them. If you misread it, and they were innocent - you are the raging aggressive cunt in this situation.

It does not matter that you reacted from an emotional place of normally having to defend yourself either, by the way. Sure, that makes the quality of your human soul better than that of the average Redditor who just enjoys anonymously hurting people, I guess? But it's also irrelevant. If you messaged someone and called them a misogynist because you performed several mental somersaults and landed on your own sore spot when they meant no such thing, you are the attacker. You owe them an apology. And yeah, sure, you can explain your over-reaction as the product of your normal experiences if you like, but that is only an explanation, not an excuse. You are still the asshole here. You still need to apologise and mean it.

And you could have avoided it if you'd done that due diligence, as you should have. If you're going to take a swing, make sure it's the right target. This was once described to me as donkey people - they don't think, they just kick. This is admittedly a little unkind to donkeys, who always do their due diligence, but I feel it's an apt metaphor.

TL;DR: If you feel moved to angrily reply to something, first make sure you've interpreted it right. Don't be a donkey person. And if you ask for clarification, people are innocent until proven guilty. Ask nicely. If they are a bigot, you can then smelt them for parts.

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Pairing Joel Miller x Daughter Reader

Summary For years, you’ve survived tethered to Joel’s side, haunted by the loss of your sister and scared to step outside of his shadow. So when he bonds with the girl he’s tasked to smuggle, it strains your complicated relationship—until the threat of losing him forces you to confront just how much he means to you [angst, fluff, 5.4k].

A/N This is some of my favorite prose I've written recently. Daughter!reader is a new dynamic for me, but it was such a rewarding writing experience. Thank you to the anon who sent this request in. I hope you all enjoy.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆

It’s cold outside today. If the draft sneaking in through the windows isn’t enough to let on, the sky itself is an undeniable sign. There’s no blue, no clouds that can be distinguished from the next. The entire expanse is a pale white sheet. As if the heavens have decided to shield earth from its view because of how far it’s fallen. 

Nevertheless, life in the Boston Quarantine Zone labors on. Day after soulless day, rain or shine. Like a well-oiled machine who’s battered parts of flesh and blood refuse to lay down and die. 

The glass of the living room window is cool against your forehead as you gaze outside. Everything is dull. Brick, metal, concrete, and endless earthtones constitute the expanse of buildings that seemingly stretch for miles. However, after having explored every corner of this walled city, you know it’s finite. A mere portion of a much larger world trying to find its footing again. 

The people walking on the sidewalks below look small from the height of your apartment. All seeming to move on a droning autopilot, clad in worn clothes that likely belonged to ten other people before them. 

With a sigh, you step away from the window and plop back down on the couch. The coffee table is cluttered with stained, old papers and trinkets, but you reach for the stack of Polaroids you’d previously been flipping through. Each photo and caption transports you back to a past moment in time...

tea for two ♡ March 13, 2003 

A day that seems closer than it actually is, now confined to a single, glossy frame. The white border has faded to beige and the picture itself no longer bears its original saturation. In it, you and Sarah are wrapped in each other’s arms, dressed like princesses for the tea party you invited her to. 

You were her three-year-old shadow, and even though you got on her nerves half the time, she found it hard to say no to you. Everybody in the Miller household did. 

lake day!!! July 4, 2003 

A sunny day. You, Sarah, and Joel are squinting into the light but smiling, your backs to the lake. Later that night, according to Joel’s retelling, you cried because of the colorful, celebratory explosions bursting amid the night sky. 

dad’s getting old (jk ily dad) September 26, 2003

Joel’s smile is shy as he sits at the kitchen table with a cone birthday hat on his head. Sarah was the one behind the lens while you clung to her leg, both you and Tommy making goofy faces in hopes of making Joel smile wider. 

He turned thirty-six that day. By that evening, everything had changed. Not just because of the outbreak, but because Sarah, who had been a light in so many of the photos, was gone too. A few months after her fourteenth birthday, no less. 

It feels strange being twenty-three now. An age she never got to see—

The faint metallic clinking of a belt being fastened prompts you to curiously stand to your feet. After setting down the photos, you saunter to the hallway, where there’s a straight view to Joel’s bedroom. The door is cracked, and warm lamplight pours out to light the end of the hall. With each step closer you take, the old, wooden floorboards creak. 

When you make it to the door, you rap your knuckles against it a few soft times. There’s shuffling on the other side. 

You knock again when there’s no response. “Dad?” 

“What’s up?” he doesn’t say it in a clipped, annoyed way so you know he hadn’t heard your previous knocking. 

“Can I come?” 

He’s quiet for a beat. “I’m finishing up getting dressed. But yeah.”

Inside, the bed still isn’t made. He’s standing in front of the full body mirror leaning against the wall. The paint of the gold trim around it is peeling, revealing the dark aluminum beneath. The glass itself is a bit foggy with stubborn grime that refuses to be scrubbed away. And right in the middle, at the same height that Joel stands, is a sizable spiderweb crack that makes his face look fragmented unless he bends down or shifts to either the left or right. 

Right now, he doesn’t seem to mind the distortion of his face, more interested in assessing his clothes. When you step up behind him, a little to the right, your entire body looks whole. Face and all. 

His eyes briefly flick to you as he continues to button the rest of his olive colored shirt. When he’s finished, he sucks in his stomach and pulls up the waistband of his dark jeans to rest at a more comfortable place on his hips. 

It isn’t until then that you notice a small portion of the back of his shirt is flipped up, the fabric thick enough to hold its place. You reach out to smooth it down. Joel hums in realization. 

“Thanks,” he mumbles. 

“Yep,” you murmur. “I thought you were off today.” 

Turning around and brushing past you, he sits in the accent chair to put on his boots. A grunt escapes him with the effort of leaning down. You watch as his thick, battered fingers fumble with the laces until they produce two neat bows. He sits back with a sigh when he’s done, running a hand through his fluffy, silvering hair. 

“I’m meeting with Marlene,” he says. The way you frown tells him that’s not a good thing, or nearly enough information. “Tess will be there too. It’s looking like we might be able to get that car battery we need to set out for Tommy.” 

You process that information with a slow nod. The idea of finding him feels elusive these days. 

A few weeks ago, Marlene told Joel she knew a couple guys who could provide resources. At various points in the months prior, she claimed the very same thing. Every promise she made fell flat because those said contacts either died or backed out of the negotiation. Yet, Joel held out hope every time. 

It used to be you who accompanied him whenever he went to meet with Marlene, but it’d gotten to the point where you couldn’t bring yourself to believe her or stand seeing her face. 

But Joel still did. For the sake of his own conscience. For Tommy. 

After standing from the chair, he fishes into his back pocket for a red cardstock meal card. When you reach out to take it from him, he doesn’t let go, instead opting to look directly into your eyes. 

“Want you to meet us for lunch at the northern dining commons at noon. We should be done by then,” he says, waiting for you to nod so he knows you’re tracking. 

“Don’t leave before then, alright? It’s getting crazier out there. Don’t know if it’s ‘cause summer’s coming or what.” 

“I won’t,” you insist. 

When you try to take the card again, he holds onto it just for the sake of coaxing a smile out of you. It doesn’t quite meet your eyes, but it’s enough to tie him over for now. He lets go of it just as you’re in the middle of pulling, and the lack of resistance makes you stumble backwards. The sound of amusement he huffs out earns him a light punch to the shoulder. 

“I mean it, though.” He points a finger. “Don’t leave till it’s time, alright? We’ll fill you in on everything then.” 

Rolling your eyes, you follow him back out into the living room. “I already said I wouldn’t.” 

“Well, reiterating is my job.” 

Those are the words he leaves you with before heading out the door.  

A few hours later, when the clock strikes twelve, you’re eating at the dining commons alone. Anxiousness prickles beneath your skin. You soothe yourself as chatter and the clinking of silverware float up all around you…

Everything’s fine. Joel’s alright. Tess is alright. Just finish eating and go home. 

•••

Sunset paints the sky that evening. The clouds that lingered all day have finally made way for an expressionist ombre of blue, pink, and orange. It's beautiful in a way that would’ve been worth photographing once upon a time. 

All you can think about is the fact that Joel hasn’t returned. 

A little past seven, voices arise in the hallway. They’re hushed and somewhat frustrated, one of them undeniably belonging to Joel. By the time keys hastily begin jingling in the door, you’re popping to your feet from the couch. A second later, it swings open with enough force that it hits the neighboring wall. 

“Get inside,” Joel orders. You can’t see him from where you’re standing. 

You can’t see anybody. 

“I don’t have to keep listening to you,” quips a tight, youthful voice. “Whatever happened to stranger danger?”  

“Move, Ellie,” Joel says. “Before I make you.” 

A young girl wearing a backpack trudges into the apartment with a scowl. After looking around the bleak accommodation, her eyes settle on you. The air falls silent. You note the wispy flyaways escaping her short ponytail, the slight redness to her eyes like she’s been either crying or rubbing them. 

Ellie sizes you up in return. You can see it in the calculated rove of her dark gaze, the way she squares her shoulder to match your guardedness. 

She eventually whips her attention back to Joel. “Who the hell is she?” 

“Told you I didn’t live alone.” That’s all he gives her before redirecting his attention to you. He seldom reveals the entirety of what he’s feeling in a given moment, but you can see the guilt weighing down on his shoulders. “I—” 

“You missed lunch.” 

He runs a heavy hand down his face. “I know.” 

The girl looks between the two of you with owl-like attentiveness that borders on amusement. At least she wasn’t the only one having a shitty day. Outside, shouting voices arise in the distance. Glass bottles break. 

“Dad. You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Ellie’s eyes widen at the revelation. 

Joel doesn’t say anything because you’re staring daggers straight into his very being.  

“I’m immune to the virus,” she speaks up. There’s a hint of pride in her tone, like she’s looking past the present to some undefined future in which she saves the world.  

“He’s gonna take me to the people who can find the cure. Then you guys are gonna go find Timmy or whatever—Tommy.”  

It’s an oversimplification, but Joel doesn’t have the energy to expound right now. Not when you look like you would lunge for him if it wasn’t for the girl.

••• 

Later that night, he sees the first shove coming. Your eyes darken until you’re no longer able to constrain your frustration to a mere look. It frustrates you all the more when he doesn’t budge. So you do it again, pushing both your hands straight into his chest. 

All he does is take a single step backwards to create distance, hands raised in surrender. The fact that he isn’t reacting makes more heat consume your face. 

Until, finally, he grabs your wrists. 

“Are you done acting like a child?” he asks.

“As soon as you quit treating me like one,” you bark. “All you do is give orders and break promises, and I’m supposed to keep following you around like a dog.” 

“I don’t see any shackles.”

“Because it’s you,” you retort, attempting to pull away from his light hold. “You’re the shackles, the prison guard, and the key.” 

Those words make him drop your wrists as if you’ve stung him with poison. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed and drops his head into his hands with a heavy sigh. The mattress creaks under his weight. In the new silence, you stand and stare at him as your breaths even out. 

Neither of you are aware that Ellie has her ear pressed to the other side of the bedroom door, listening. 

When he lifts his head, only then are you aware of how tired and worn down he looks. His hair is more disheveled than it was this morning. The same hair you used to playfully run your fingers through and litter with sparkly hair clips. Except now, his face is void of a smile. 

“I’m sorry about lunch, alright?” His dark eyes search yours for any inkling of forgiveness. He knows he scared you. That’s what’s beneath your anger. “I didn’t know I was gonna get held up like that.” 

Joel Miller was a lot of things, but a pushover wasn’t one of them. 

If he really wanted to, he could’ve at least come to the dining commons to explain. Or ignore Marlene’s request entirely, and force her to find someone else to smuggle the girl. Even Tess had refused to involve herself in the escape plan because she feared it would be all risk and no reward.

“What happens if these guys turn out to be dead too?” You ask Joel, voice softer than before. “What if this is yet another exchange that falls through?” 

He knows you have a point. He also knows he has a brother out there miles away who recently sent him a signal. 

“If there’s a chance, I gotta take it,” he says. “And if we get out there and nobody’s waiting for us, we’re heading to Wyoming anyway.” He meets your gaze. 

You swallow and blink in surprise. “Really?” 

“I’m done waiting around for the right time,” he says, voice low but firm. “It’s never gonna come. Gotta forge it ourselves.” 

He sounds sure. Right now, you could use something to believe in. And if nothing else, a change of scenery from the city walls you’ve been confined within for far too long. 

•••

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑

𝐈.

The Capitol Building is empty when you arrive, no sight of the men who were supposed to take Ellie and give you and Joel the supplies you need to carry on. For a while, the three of you linger hopefully on the inside, where grass grows through the chipped marble floors. The only people who eventually arrive are ridden with the virus, their rotting bodies infested with fungus from the inside out. 

You promptly flee the scene after swallowing disappointment like a pill. 

𝐈𝐈.

The front door of Bill and Frank’s house is unlocked when you arrive in the desolate suburbia. Dead grass and tall weeds constitute the yard. The flower beds out front have long wilted. That’s enough for you to know that they’re either dead or gone. Joel pushes into the house anyway, with you and Ellie trailing behind. Bill left a note behind. They’re dead. Ellie asks questions about them that Joel thoughtfully answers.

The three of you take turns showering, then leave.

𝐈𝐈𝐈.

By early August, the trio feels more like a unit, having been bound together by shared letdowns and long nights under the stars. Some days, you don’t know where you are until coming across specific landmarks or recognizable cliffs. You and Joel teach Ellie how to shoot because she wouldn’t stop begging. Most days, as you’re making progress towards Wyoming, it’s the two of you trailing behind Joel, who often shoots unreadable glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re keeping up. 

Sometimes he lets down his walls to offer a small smile. 

•••

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋

All around, tall trees stretch towards the sky, bearing vibrant leaves beginning to change colors. Every so often, a breeze rolls through and ruffles them. The same mourning dove has been calling out into the wind with no response in return. It’s a tune that filled the mornings of your childhood back when you were on the road to Boston with Joel. You hadn’t heard it much since. 

Twigs and leaves crunch beneath your boots as you squat to lower your fingertips into the creek. The water is cool against your skin, and clear enough to see the rocks at the bottom. When you stand up, you startle at the sight of Ellie standing a few yards away. She takes a few apologetic steps back, almost tripping over herself. 

Further away, Joel sits with his back propped against a tree as he reorganizes the contents of his backpack. 

“Jesus, El,” you sigh, pressing a hand to your chest over your heart. 

Ellie no longer seems sure of her reason for approaching you. There were times when she didn’t look her age—whether it be her stare or the way she carried herself—but this wasn’t one. Now, an air of self-consciousness surrounds her, like she’s caught between knowing nothing and everything all at once. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me,” she rushes out. There’s a pang of guilt when you realize she thinks you’re angry. 

“No, it’s fine,” you insist, softening your tone. “I’ve just been in my head.” 

She nods and feels more comfortable to step up alongside you. 

“I’ve seen those pictures you’ve been looking at.” She continues when you don’t say anything, “Was that your sister?” 

Neither you or Joel have brought her up, but your silence is an answer. 

“What was she like?” 

“I don’t remember much.” 

Only bits and pieces. The larger gaps have been filled in by Joel over the years. He never talks about Sarah at length, but sometimes he’ll see something or you’ll make an expression that reminds him of her. That usually prompted him to tell a short story. Oftentimes, without meeting your eyes because he was too busy trying to busy his restless hands. Talking about her always makes him fidget. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I know what it’s like to lose someone.” 

Ignoring her, you ask, “Did Joel say when we were gonna start back hiking?” 

Embarrassed, Ellie clears her throat and shakes her head no. “Why do you use his first name like that?” You almost hadn’t realized. 

“Force of habit.” Her brows have furrowed in confusion, so you explain, “Half the time, people in the QZ only listened to me when I threw his name in the mix. It holds a lot of weight among certain groups these days.” 

“Like he’s the boogeyman or something?”

You allow a small chuckle to escape at her words. She feels like it earns her a place back in your good graces. Pride glimmers in the grin that stretches across her face. 

“Something like that,” you agree. 

The familiar crunch of leaves rises as Joel makes the short venture over to the two of you. When he sees the fleeting smiles on your faces, he clears his throat and waits to see if he’ll be invited into whatever small moment of amusement had arisen. He seems to have just missed it. 

“Speaking of the devil,” Ellie says, 

Joel frowns, remaining quiet as he walks up to the edge of the creek. He stares into the bottom for a few thoughtful seconds. Both of you watch as he squats down to splash his face with water, humming with refreshment. 

Ellie no sooner moves to copy him. She laughs, a bubbly surprised sound, as she stands with her face dripping and eyes squeezed shut.

“Wait, how do I—” 

“Use your shirt,” Joel quips lightly. 

“Oh, yeah!” She uses her shirt to dry her eyes just as he had.

The chuckle that rumbles through Joel’s chest is a sound you haven’t heard in a while. It makes you stand up straighter, unconsciously shifting his way as if the sound has the power to heal that part of you that misses him even when he’s within reach. Misses how things were before he grew hard and consumed with the need to survive. 

You didn’t fault him for it, though. 

What’s become increasingly clear, however, is that need was born as much out of spite as it was out of the pure, unadulterated will to live. The end of the world took Sarah, and to Joel, ensuring the two of you endured no matter what was his fuck you to the universe. His proof that everything he cared about couldn’t be ripped from his hands. It was a muddled labor of love. 

But right here, right now, he’s laughing. Not urging silence or trying to instill a survival lesson. He’s letting the moment wash over him for what it is. There you stand watching the two of them like a mere onlooker frozen in place. The entire scene is reminiscent of a different time. A different Joel. 

Something heavy and bitter settles in your stomach at the sight of their twin smiles. 

“Are you gonna try it?” Ellie asks like she’s referring to some grand experience.

“It’s just water,” you say flatly. 

Face falling, Ellie looks to the ground as if the bridge connecting you two had been burned yet again. Something protective flares in Joel’s chest. 

He gives you a pointed look. “You feelin’ alright?” 

“I’m great. Grand even.” 

The air shifts, levity disappearing like a vapor. All three of you can feel it.

“Let’s keep moving then.”

For weeks, you keep it moving. Through rain, shine, and snow. The closer you get to Wyoming, the further away you drift from Ellie and Joel. Like you’re the corner piece of an island that’s been chipped away from the larger landmass. 

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

Arriving at the Jackson commune does little to mend things back to the way they were. Some days pass by with more conversation and laughter between the three of you than others. Coming here had been the very thing you longed for, right alongside Joel. But tonight, as you fold clothes at the secondhand store where you volunteer, you wonder what there is to dream about now. 

You don’t know what you like or want. You were so young when the outbreak began that Joel’s practices and motivations became your own. You don’t know where he ends and you begin, and the inability to distinguish makes a part of you resent him. 

The bells above the door jingle as Ellie enters with her backpack slung over her shoulder. Half of her hair is pulled into a ponytail, while the other falls in loose waves just past her shoulders. For once, it looks like she brushed it properly. 

You see more of her than Joel these days. 

“Hey, I’m gonna go over to Dina’s,” she says as she pads over to you. “Joel’s not home yet so I figured I’d come tell you.” She absentmindedly runs her hand over the cashmere sweater you’d folded minutes prior to her arrival. 

You set down the pair of jeans you just finished folding. “He’s not?” 

“No,” she says, unphased. “Probably went straight to the dining hall.” 

A dull, gnawing sense of worry arises in your chest. Ellie can’t see it or feel it herself, still tending to believe Joel was somehow invincible. That every time he went out for patrol, he was bound to return because that’s what he’d proven to her so far. 

“Be safe, okay?” you tell her. “Thanks for letting me know.” 

When she leaves, you head to the store owner in the back room. He’s rummaging through a huge box of donated items. 

“Hey, Stewart?”

There’s a click as two glasses knock into one another. “Goddammit—what?” He straightens up to turn around and face you. 

He has a head full of wiry gray hair and his glasses are crooked on his nose. There’s a light sheen of sweat beading on his forehead. 

“You alright back here?” you tease lightly. He grumbles and waves you off. “Would it be okay if I clocked out early? Natalie and Craig are out there, so you’ll still have help until closing.” It’s been pretty slow this evening anyways. No chance a random rush would occur. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want, kid.” He huffs and looks back down at the box. “I’ll see you on Thursday.” 

“You’re the best, Stew.” You flash him a playful smile. 

Outside, you shiver at how cold it’s grown. Crossing your arms over your chest does little to alleviate the creeping chill. The first snow of the season has yet to fall, but you can feel it lingering in the crisp air. Nevertheless, Jackson Hole is buzzing. People of all ages flit in and out of shops and gathering spaces. Everywhere you look, there’s a friendly face, if not an actual friend. 

This time of year, the entire commune is reminiscent of those cute Christmas village displays. Plush wreaths with red bows hang on wooden posts, and colorful fairy lights shine all around. The most activity buzzes over at the dining hall. Families talk and laugh on the benches outside, and you can see people walking around inside through the windows. 

As you head that way, the two men standing on the patrol office porch capture your attention. It was probable that Joel was inside either logging or assessing his hours. 

When you make it to the building, you recognize the taller man as Cameron, someone who often partnered with Joel because they had the same, collected, no-nonsense way about them. They automatically nod to you in greeting, but their lips are set in firm lines like they have news you don’t. 

You offer a shaky smile back as a lump forms in your throat, “Evening.” 

Your heart rate speeds up as Cameron opens the door for you. Inside, six men stand circled around Tommy, who’s tone is firm as he talks with his hands. Some have rifles slung over their shoulders, and others have pistols on their hips. Standing among the group is Lyle, a younger guy who was scheduled to be Joel’s partner today. 

The only person missing is Joel. 

You allow your eyes to rove over the plaques, portraits, and retired weaponry decorating the walls as you await the end of Tommy’s lecture.  

“Let what happened out there today be a lesson—” Tommy stops talking when his eyes fall on you, and other heads turn to look your way. A few throats are cleared, necks are scratched. 

“Hold on a second, fellas.” He breaks out of the circle and heads towards you, cowboy boots clunking against the wood floorboards. There’s a rifle draped across his body like he’s ready for action. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. He doesn’t have to say anything for you to gather what this meeting is all about. Everybody has discretely turned to look at the two of you. 

“Tommy…” 

“Why don’t we step outside for a second, yeah?” He places a gentle hand at the small of your back to guide you back out into the cold. Cameron and his buddy slip inside out of respect for your privacy. 

“What’s going on, Tommy?” 

He wrestles with how to answer. You see it in his dark eyes, the way he shifts his stance. His cheeks are a bit flushed. 

“Joel hasn’t made it back,” he breathes. “Lyle made it in without him around an hour ago. Said they ran into some disgruntled nomads and got split up,” he says. “Got a few people out looking for him now, and I’m about to go out myself.” 

How foolish you’ve been acting these past several weeks hits you all at once. Everything from purposely distancing yourself from Joel, to occasionally ignoring him whenever he tried to ask how you’ve been—you’d made a point to be away from the house as much as possible. Most of all, it’d been foolish to pretend he wasn’t one of the only people in the world you wouldn’t be able to live without.

A stinging sensation pricks in your eyes, but no tears form. You don’t have it in you to cry. Helplessness crashes down on you in the form of frustration. 

“What do you mean came back without him?” you ask. “What good are patrol partners if they’re just gonna leave you behind—” 

“Hey. Hey.” Tommy looks at you intently. His eyes are so much like Joel’s that you look away. “This ain’t the time to be pointing fingers, alright? When you’re out there like that and shit hits the fan, you don’t know how you’ll react.” 

“Definitely not by leaving my partner behind.” 

Joel had never left you behind. Things had gone sideways time after time again, but you managed to remain by each other’s side. 

Worry radiates off of you in waves. 

“I’m worried out my ass too,” Tommy admits, trying to assure you. “But judging other people ain’t gonna bring him back any faster,” he says. 

When release a heavy exhale and slink your head down, Tommy steps forwards to wrap his arms around you. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he promises. “You eaten dinner yet?” 

“I’ll probably throw up if I do.” 

He pulls away to look at you under the soft glow of the porchlight. “Let’s at least try to get a little something in your system, okay? I’ll walk you over to the dining hall.” Tommy guides you that way, and everything around you seems to fade in and out as you walk. 

Tommy’s words manage to break through to you, “I know my brother. He’ll make it back one way or another,” 

He always did. Maybe a bite to eat didn’t sound so bad. 

•••

The unyielding weight of your nerves forces sleep to find you when you make it home. Not in your bed, but on the couch as you sit and wait for Joel’s return. Worrying has taken a lot out of you. 

Creaky footsteps arise out on the porch. Then the lock clicks. Neither of which you register. By the time Joel is walking in through the front door, your eyes flutter open. There’s a slight sway to his stride like he’s favoring one leg. Other than that, he’s still in one piece. You’re on your feet in an instant, ignoring the crick in your neck. 

“Oh my god, Dad—thank god.” 

Joel stops in his tracks as you hurry over to him. He lets you look him over as if he’s a child who just fell off a bike. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” there’s a rasp to his voice.  

Relief is written all over your face. It’s the most interest you’ve shown in him in weeks, but he’s grateful for it anyways. He’s grateful for any mind you’re willing to pay him. 

There’s so much you want to say—I thought I lost you, don’t scare me like that again, I love you—but none of it comes out. Instead, it’s all packed into the way you step forward to throw your arms around him. 

But even hugging him brings you close enough. 

Luckily, he’s so tall and broad that you settle for the feeling of being safe, cocooned in his arms. He squeezes you, not in the playful way that used to be a means of making you smile, but in a way that solidifies his presence. Assures you that he’s never going to let go. That you don’t have to worry about living without him.

As your tears wet his shirt, he doesn’t ease up or pull away. He remains constant like he’s been throughout your entire life, even on the days you thought you wanted him to disappear. 

He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head and you’re overcome with warmth.  

“I love you to pieces,” his voice is low and thick with sincerity. “So much it hurts.” 

It’s you who reluctantly pulls away to look up into his eyes. 

“I love you too,” you murmur, cheeks glistening with tears. 

The tears gathered in his eyes finally spill over. He doesn't turn away or tilt his head back in an attempt to fend them off. They simply roll down his cheeks at your words. You can’t recall seeing him cry since Sarah passed away. Guilt, sympathy, and gratitude swell in your chest. For the years he’s been strong for the both of you, for everyone who’s ever leaned on him in a time of need. He never made it look hard. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For everything. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—” 

“As long as you’re safe, I can handle being ignored.” He manages a small, sad smile. “It ain’t easy growing up during the end of the world.” Few things ever were. 

“It’s a little easier with you.” 

“Just a little?” He asks lightly. 

Both your smiles grow, and as you step back into his arms, every gripe and the the chaotic events of the evening fade away.

- 

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all. 

MORE

[yuvany]

CHRITSMAS TREE SHOPPING // ENHYPEN

OT7 ENHYPEN x f !reader contains : est relationship + not ptoofread // no cw !! 𝐰𝐜: 1.2k

─── ( on point ) this is promt nr.12 for @cupidhoons seaon of romance event !! such a fun idea and I enjoyed writing this a lot.

NOTE : finally back and posting... enjoy ? I hope

reblogs are always appreciated !!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

going shopping with him sometimes felt more like a task, especially when it was time for holidays. Heeseung becomes competative and fierce because if he really wants something, he'll fight for it - even when you're his girlfriend. On the walk over to the christmas tree market, you could feel the intensity radiating off him, and you start to get worried, because well, it's only a tree, right? Wrong. "What tree do you wanna get?" You ask your boyfriend who was holding your hand in his that was cosily in his pocket. "I really want a classic green, and you, babe?" He asked, and you felt his eyes on you. "I wanna try white one this year!" Upon hearing that, Heeseung purses his lips. "White?" "yes! have you not seen those pinterest posts?" At this point, the two of you have stopped walking, and were blocking the way, going back and forth on what colour was the best. "Will you agree if I give you a kiss?" you say at least, and he replies, "One won't be enough. How about a hundred more, mm?"

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

Jay doesn't seem like the type to be very picky when it comes to choosing stuff, he only wanted to know what you were interested in. "Have any plans for Christmas?" He asked you, walking beside you on the side walk that hardly looked any different from the road where cars drove by, their window swipers shoving the snow away from the glass. "Actually, no idea." Jay sweats, because what are two clueless lovers supposed to do in a market? "What do you think?" You asked your boyfriend, He clears his throat and pullls out his phone. This motivates you to continue picking on him the whole walk there. "I don't know either, babe." He admits at last. "We gotta YOLO it I suppose, let's hurry, I wanna look at the trees!" You say and pull him behind you. Even though you didn't know what you wanted to buy, you somehow knew what you did not like. "This one is pretty." Jay said, pointing at a dark green coloured one. "we for sure have different tastes." You comment with a scowl.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

Jake wants to find the perfect christmas tree, a tree where he can place all the presents he had bought for you. The market was filled with trees ranging of different heights and colours, you did not really care what tree you guys would carry home at the end of the day, but Jake was running around the place with you on his tail. "babe, calm down!" You call out, your legs almost giving up on you. "Hurry! look at that one!" He says, stopping only to tell you to keep up with him. You heave a sigh and stomp your feet, frustrated. "c'mon..." Jake moops, his palms on your shoulders. "Just pick a tree, you're not an expert." You groan, and Jake shakes his head. "But we need to find the perfect tree. I'm not leaving until we find the one." "Just pick any one, the decorations will make the tree pretty." You argue, your head finding his chest as exhaustion catches up to you.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

It's been hours of walking around the place, and the both of you could not agree on one tree that the both of you found pretty. At first he said he didn't care, but gradually he revealed his real demeanour. "But you said I could pick whichever one!" You whine, and Sunghoon shoves his hands into his pockets cluelessly. "What do you mean, sweetie? I did not say that." Sunghoon lied. You shake your head at his words, feeling betrayed by the one you thought you could trust the most. "It's just a tree, hoonie, and you can't take back a promise. We pinky promised." Sunghoon remembers this vividly and winces as he tries to make an excuse, but he can't find one that'll satisfy the both of you. "Sure, go ahead. I did promise you, lovely." He walks towards you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. "Do you really want this brown, poop-coloured tree?" "I was actualy joking with you." You admit.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

Sunoo is a perfectionist, but he also loves you. You had walked up to a classic tree that had that traditional musky colour, the scent of freshly cut wood and the aroma of chirstmas making its way through the market. Something classic could never go wrong, right? That's what you thought at least until you look over your shoulder to get Sunoo's opinion. Upon the sight of his raised eyebrow, crossed arms as he tapped his boot against the thinly covered ground, you start to second guess. "Babe, what do you think of this?" You ask with hesitation. He lets out a hum, "It's alright, I suppose." You shurg his reaction off, and turn to look to the next tree due to his reaction. He sees this, and gets ahold of your shoulder. "Why did you continue looking? Didn't you want this one?" He asks, and you shrug. "I mean, it didn't seem like you liked it." You explained. "I mean, as long as I get to decorate it, I'm fine with anything." Sunoo reassures, and you chuckle.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

He could not care less about what tree would be carried home that eveing, he just wanted to tease you. Whenever you suggested a tree, he'd turn down the option. It came to the point where you were pointing at every christmas tree that you passed and he'd still shake his head.Your legs began to get tired and you stood in place in front of a classic short tree and pointed at it. "What about this one then?" You asked him with an eyebrow cocked upwards. Jungwon had his fingers around his chin as he was mocking a stance deep in thought. "Are you sure about this one?" He asked. "Goodness, this is the last one in this place and the one you haven't said no to. Go pick one for yourself." You sighed and Jungwon combed his hair back upon seeing your tired state. "babe, I was just teasing, get whichever one you want and decoration, and I'll pay." He offers with a hand cupping your cheek.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

"What do you think of this one?" you asked, trying to find at least one tree that the two of you could agree on. "Can't you see that it has too many branches?" Riki judges, and you can't believe how childish he is being. "That one is the perfect one," he continues, pointing at a tree in the distance. "Are you really sure, because I find that it is very ugly. no offence." You sass, looking at the too tall tree. You feel his sharp gaze judge you, but you only giggle at this, knowing you managed to tick him off. "So... what do you wanna do?" You asked him, nudging your shoulder with his. "Obviously that tree." Riki looks over at the one he was insisiting on bringing home. "Lets settle this with rock paper scissor." You challenged him, and he eagerly nodded. "Rock, paper scissor..." He counted down, and you played a paper, and he did a scissor, resulting in his victory. "You were just lucky this time." You sulk.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa @pshwrldd

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

★ synopsis: over one summer, a whirlwind romance creates an obvious choice: to stay in the life she's always known or follow sylus into the unknown, chasing love and freedom.

★ character: sylus

★ cw: first-person POV, sort of present day au? pretty fluffy, some implications but nothing obvious, soft sylus, may have spelling errors (i wrote this at 2 am)

★ word count: 1.3k

★ a/n: this is super short and not really meant as an intense read. just some poetic fluff about sylus (lord knows we need more sweet reads of him *sob*)

I remember the first time I saw him.

He was so… different from everyone around. The way he acted, the way he held himself, the devious smirk that always graced his devilishly handsome face. He had this aura that was off, but in this perfectly, sickeningly good way. He was something this dull town never had.

He came in once to my bakery, smiling and talking to me as if he had known me forever.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” That was different, no one spoke to each other like that around here. Anyone in their right mind would be creeped out, yet I enjoyed every second; every word that came out of his mouth spoke with his deep, velvet voice. I loved the difference, I loved the attention he gave me. Constant indulging in the feeling his presence brought on.

Introducing himself as Sylus, I said his name thousands of times in my head.

The look he gave me when he learned my name was engraved in my mind for centuries. His hard eyes softened, repeating every syllable as if it was candy on his tongue. Of my name.

Sylus, Sylus, Sylus.

After that, he would visit at least once a day, if not a few times. He’d lean over my counter, propping himself up on one of his arms. He always rolled his sleeves up, and buttoned his shirt to his lower chest, showing enough of his perfect skin that I always resisted to touch.

“Red is your color.” I had told him this after he wore this delicious, wine red top. It complimented everything on him, like a rose in the snow.

“Everything is your color.” He leaned towards me, holding his face in his hand.

“Why do you say that?” I started serving a customer, and I could feel his eyes on me.

“Well,” He started, “Your personality is very warm, like yellow, orange, and red.”

I glanced at him, “Have a good evening!” I bid the lady I served goodbye.

“And your looks are very cool, blues and purples fit you best.”

Turning away from him, adjusting things on my shelves, I asked, “What about green?”

“What about green?” He repeated.

“You didn’t mention green. Does green fit me?”

He smirked, “I told you every color fits you. So green would too. I’m sorry I didn’t mention every shade in the rainbow.”

I turned back to him, and he had his head resting in his arms, staring at me with his usual smug look. Walking up to him, I ran a hand through his hair, “Y’know, green actually takes up most of the color spectrum. It has a countless number of shades.”

“Really?”

“Mm,” I gave him one of his favorite pastries I made, “it's evolutionary. Humans are omnivores, so our eyes help us differentiate between shades of green to help us find plants to eat and avoid, but it can help us find prey animals that are seeking specific kinds of plants.”

“You’re truly fascinating, sweetie. You and all your shades of green.”

“As are you, Sylus.”

As are you.

Sylus was on a trip here for the summer. When I asked him why?

"To find someone like you."

I thought of him as borrowing my heart, when I knew he wouldn’t return it when he left at the end of the summer. When the leaves turned yellow, red and orange, just as he described my personality, he’d take my heart with him back to his home.

I felt something with him, a spark, a waterfall of passion. Something I had never felt in this city before.

There were the ruins, a place where all the young civilians would go to party into the early mornings. Sylus convinced me to go with him once.

“I want the experience of being here.” He had stated matter of factly, yet I knew the tall man was just finding an excuse to be with me a while longer.

I rolled my eyes, “That’s not much of an experience, being around a bunch of sweaty drunks.”

Oh but it was. To travel back to that night, where we had danced together, our cheeks flushed with red wine, or bodies pressed into one.

He took me back to the bakery, and kissed me against the old brick walls. Him in his red shirt, buttoned down and sleeves up, his hair a mess, but still shining in the illumination of the moon and street lights.

From there, something shifted.

I’d show him all my secret spots, just to fall into a field together, tangled in each other's limbs. He’d kiss me like I was his world, and nothing else existed; and with him, nothing else did exist.

I tried to teach him how to bake, how to knead dough, how to remember measurements without a recipe. Sylus would get flour in his hair, on his cheeks, his nose, his shirt and his pants (all on purpose, courtesy of me).

"We have to match.” He’d say, before taking his flour covered hands and taking my face in them, rubbing his dusty nose on mine, rubbing our cheeks together. I giggled and smacked his chest with a towel, before wiping his and my face off.

There was the night where I wore a new dress; an emerald green sundress that matched the grassy hills of the city in the night. He took one look at me, his red eyes burning with love and desire, and as I took a step forward his hands were all over. Dinner was scrapped, and I spent the night under him tangled in the sheets, one with love.

After, cuddled together, a sweaty beautiful mess, he adjusted his bare chest against mine. Placing his hand on my hip, drawing shapes with his finger, he whispered to me as I was about to fall asleep,

“So many shades of green, and I was lucky enough to find you.”

“I love you, Sylus.” I mumbled through reality and my dreams.

He smiled against my lips, “I love you too.”

As they say, time flies when you’re having fun. Eventually, the end of summer came around.

I would have to say goodbye. Say goodbye to Sylus, say goodbye to everything.

No more grand entrances into my work, messing with the collar of his red billowy shirt. No more watching his bare back as he’d stretch in the morning, smirking back at me as he’d trace his fingers over marks on his neck and chest. Life would go back to routine, everything in this town staying quiet and still as it once was. Before I knew him.

The day before he had to leave, he swung open the door to my bakery, a wild look in his eyes.

“Come with me.” He said, stern. The look on his face told me I wasn’t getting much of a choice. I wasn’t sure I wanted one.

I raised a brow, “What?”

He walked behind the counter, one hand grabbing my waist, the other going through my hair.

“Come back with me. Stay with me. You can open a bakery there, I’ll help. Everything will be the same. You said it yourself, you wanted out of here, come with me.” His usual put together look was coming undone, his lips pulled tightly together as a silent plea.

He could make it happen, the man had more money than I could ever imagine. Going with him could make all my dreams come true; getting out of this monotonous town, living comfortably, being…happy.

I shook my head, almost trying to convince myself not to listen, “Sylus, you’re not thinking about this.” Hypocritical, I’m not sure I was either.

His brows furrowed, “I have. That's all I’ve done. Now, sweetie, say yes.”

I thought about all the shades of green.

…

“Yes.”

(divider by cafekitsune)

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 40

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,400ish

Summary: You and Logan struggle.

Warning(s): bars, drunk men, tears, heartbreak, seizures

Notes: Welp, this chapter was gonna be shorter and different, but y'all sent in some great ideas. I hope this chapter makes sense since I used the chapter I had already written and worked around it.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Logan was anxious as he pulled up to the diner the next day. He couldn’t see your car, which made his stomach tie up in knots. What if you actually walked away? He had kept telling you to, but then yesterday… he couldn’t lose you again. It might actually be the thing that killed him. Logan’s eyes scanned the diner as he entered, trying to find any sight of you.

“Excuse me,” Logan grumbled as he caught the attention of one of the other waitresses. “Is Y/N here?”

“Her shift starts in a few minutes,” the waitress responded. “Feel free to wait in a booth.”

“Thanks.”

Logan sat down at tapped the table as he looked out the window and waited for you. He felt some relief when he watched you pull up and enter the diner. You could feel Logan’s gaze on you, but you ignored it, quickly starting your shift. You didn’t go over there until Logan’s food was finished.

“Here,” you muttered, setting the food down. You kept your gaze down.

“Sweetheart,” Logan’s injured hand came up to your hand.

“I have to work, Logan. If you need something, we can talk after my shift.”

You turned away and went to help a rowdy truck driver at the counter. Logan kept his eyes on you, growing angrier by the second as the truck driver kept trying to put his hands on you.

“Hey, bitch,” the truck driver called, slapping your butt as you walked past.

Logan stood up and walked over, his whole world red. He grabbed the guy’s shirt and immediately punched him in the face.

“Logan!” You exclaimed, trying to pull him off the man. “Stop!”

Logan pulled the man closer to his face. “Don’t you ever disrespect a woman like that!” He then punched the driver again.

“Logan!” You went to grab his arm, but his elbow flew back into your face and hit your nose. Blood began gushing down you. You grabbed your nose to try to plug it. 

“That’s enough!” Your manager shouted. She glared at Logan and the driver. “Get out!”

Logan looked back at you, stomach dropping at the sight of blood on you. When did you get hurt? He didn’t remember that at all. Logan let go of the driver, causing the man to fall to the ground.

“Out!” Your manager repeated. Logan left the diner before the manager turned to you. “You’re fired.”

“What?” You questioned. “But I—“

“Keep luring that man in. I can’t ban him; he’s too dangerous, but I can ban you. Go.”

You grabbed your things and went out to your car, where Logan was waiting.

“Y/N,” he whispered, hands stuffed into his pockets to hide his own blood and bruising.

“Go away,” you muttered. You got into your car, slamming the door before driving off.

~~~

Logan dropped off the bachelor party at the bar and sat there in the limo. He knew he lost it today and that you needed an apology. Getting out, he was going to get to your motel when he saw you stumble out of the bar, hanging off of a man. You were giggling and touching the man, making Logan see red again. Without another thought, Logan was storming over there. He ripped the man off of you before you could kiss. 

“Hey!” The man exclaimed. “Watch it—“

“Run off,” Logan’s voice was gruff yet thick with anger. He lifted one of his fists and revealed his metal claws. The man scurried off.

“Are you going to sabotage all my jobs now?” You questioned, causing him to turn quickly toward you.

“What? What job?”

“Well, you got me fired from the diner, and I need money. The guy was going to pay well.”

Logan thought he was going to throw up. He had promised you a life away from this, yet here you were because of him. “There has to be another way.”

“What am I supposed to do? I need the money, and I don’t have a safe place… You won’t take me home—to your home… I have nothing.”

“But… you’re my wife,” Logan reached out to you, but you stepped away. “Just ask me, and I’ll help you.”

“I thought you said we weren’t even married, Logan. So, I’m not your wife…”

His heart was shattered. “I didn’t mean—“

“Just… let me walk away, Logan. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Logan felt frozen as you walked in the direction of your motel. He had caused this. It was all his fault. But how could he fix it without putting you in more danger?

~~~

The next morning, Logan woke up with a mission. He had to get to your motel. He had to convince you somehow to stay in town. He was stupid, stupid to think that pushing you away was protecting you. He would work more shifts or get another job just to keep you close. And to make sure that you were taken care of. Logan sped to the motel and rushed up to your door. Knocking on it, the door creaked open.

“Y/N?” He called, stepping inside. “Sweetheart?”

None of your belongings were there. It looked like you left in a rush. Logan ventured further into the room, checking for any sign of you. His eyes caught sight of the motel notepad on the desk, where your familiar handwriting sat. His hand trembled as he picked up the note. He moved it closer to his face and then away as he struggled to read it.

“Fuck,” he muttered, hating how his body was betraying him. 

Eventually, he found a spot that he could read it, if he squinted real hard.

Logan—Got kicked out of the motel. Apparently, they don’t enjoy long-term guests like me. I wish things were different.

Logan didn’t even know he was crying until a tear fell on your note. The dog tags and ring that sat against his chest felt like they were burning into him. A part of him wished that they would. That they’d burn right through to his heart. Keeping the note in his hand, Logan turned around and left the motel room. His eyes searched for any sign of your car, but it wasn’t there. You had left, just as he had wanted. But then why did he feel like he could just lay down and die? Like his heart had been ripped from his chest? You were right. This wasn’t protection to either of you. This just made things worse. And it was too late to fix it.

With a heavy sigh, Logan got into his limo and headed back to the smelting plant. He couldn’t work today. Not with his mind too caught up in you and the promises that he failed to keep.

~~~

It was dark, stuffy, and extremely bumpy. But you didn’t care, especially once you realized that Logan kept extra suit jackets and white shirts in the limo’s trunk. 

You knew that Logan would stop by; he was so predictable to you. That morning, you sold your stolen car and packed up your belongings. You waited patiently for Logan to show up at the motel and slipped into his trunk as he searched your room. If Logan wasn’t going to take you to where he was living, you’d just have to sneak there. Consequences be damned. You at least deserved a chance actually to say goodbye to Charles and to Logan.

Currently, you were in Logan’s trunk, wrapped up in one of his jackets, savoring the smell of him. It was something you missed. Just his woody, cigar, leathery scent. It was pure Logan.

You didn’t know how long you were in the car before Logan finally stopped and got out. As you waited, you began to grow nervous. What if you showing up like this was the last straw? What if he really didn’t want you?

“Don’t be silly, my dear,” Charles’ voice entered your mind. “Logan always wants you.”

“Charles?” You mentally responded.

“The coast is clear. I’m in the tank.”

You popped open the trunk and carefully slipped out. You shut it, leaving your belongings in there. Glancing around, you took in the abandoned smelting plant and the barely put-together tank next to it. There was a fence surrounding the place with a train track not too far from that. It was in the desert, the heat of the sun beating down on you. Nothing was around for miles. 

Tugging the jacket around you tighter, you quietly made your way to the tank. As you came up to the door, your heart sank as you realized that it was locked from the outside, clearly keeping Charles in. You entered and looked around. Charles was sitting in a wheelchair near a hospital bed. There was a chair and a small table with some plants scattered about. A fan was working overtime, trying to cool the thick, hot air. Charles smiled upon seeing you.

“Hello, Y/N,” he greeted.

You smiled back, trying not to worry too much about how it felt like he had aged too much since you last saw him. But the same could probably be said for you. “Hello, Charles.”

“I have missed you.” He wheeled himself over and held out his hand.

You took it. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“Come. Sit.” Charles led you over to the chair. “I know that it’s been a hard year for you.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for you either.”

“Alzheimer’s… That’s what I have. Seems to be an okay day today. Well, besides being stuck in this shit hole.”

You laughed. It wasn’t very often that you heard Charles swear. “Yeah, the whole place seems… nice.”

“That’s far too kind of a word. But it is better now that you’re here.”

“I don’t know if I can stay.” You shook your head. “I don’t know if Logan wants me here.”

“I don’t care what he wants. I want you here.”

“Charles—“

“Besides, that old grump yearns for you.” He tapped his head. “I know. Well, when I’m not full of those awful meds that they keep giving you.”

“They? Who else is here?”

Just then, the tank door opened, and a man walked in. He was carrying a tray of food and meds. He was tall and thin, all of his skin covered for protection from the sun. You jumped slightly and froze, not expecting anyone else here since Logan had been so adamant that you couldn’t be here for your safety. 

“What the— Who are you?” The man asked, closing the door and walking further in. He set the tray down on the table and pulled his goggles up onto his forehead, showing you that he was albino. 

“Caliban, this is Y/N,” Charles introduced.

“You’re Y/N.”

“I am,” you responded. “Who are you?”

“Logan found me. Offered me food, shelter, and protection in exchange for helping with Charles.”

“Oh.” You hated how much it stung that Logan would promise someone else that.

“Does he know you’re here?”

“No. I snuck over in the trunk of his limo. Please don’t tell him I’m here. I would like to do that.”

“Of course.”

“Y/N can help me with my meds today, Caliban,” Charles said. “You can go.”

Caliban nodded, stealing one last look at you before sliding his goggles back over his eyes and heading out. You walked over to the tray and brought it over to Charles, resting it across his lap.

“Now, Y/N,” Charles took a bite of his food, “tell me how it felt to beat Logan will some fire.”

~~~

Logan tipped the bottle of alcohol up, the liquid burning down his throat. Due to his dwindling healing abilities, Logan had started to feel the effects of alcohol more than he ever had before. But it did nothing to make him forget about you. Your smokey scent. The way your skin felt under his rough, calloused hands. The warmth that radiated off of you. Your eyes and your smile. 

He set the bottle down on the table as Caliban came back into the smelting plant. Logan’s thick brows furrowed as he watched Caliban unwrap his skin.

“Did you make sure he swallowed?” Logan questioned, thinking that Caliban hadn’t been in the tank long enough.

“He swallowed,” Caliban replied.

Logan scoffed. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Well, it might be because you’re tired.”

Logan groaned as he stood up. “I shouldn’t have to do everything around here.”

“Don’t go out there.”

“Why not?”

“He’s, uh, lucid.”

“And?” Caliban looked away. “I’m going out there. Good thing the sun will prevent you from stopping me.” 

Logan marched out of the plant, slamming the door as he headed to the tank. As soon as he opened the door, he froze. You were sitting with Charles.

“Logan!” You exclaimed, surprised to see him already.

“How the hell did you get here?” He grumbled, marching closer. “You disappeared. Everything was gone.”

“I sold the car this morning and snuck into your trunk when you stopped by the hotel.”

“Don’t be mad at her, Logan,” Charles scolded.

“I ain’t mad,” he murmured. “You need to go.”

“No,” you weren’t going to let him push you away this time. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yes, you are.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you from the chair with his uninjured one. “You can’t be here. Especially not in here.” He began leading you to the door.

“Let go of her, Logan,” ordered Charles.

“It’s okay, Charles,” you replied. “I can handle this.” You shut the door behind you as Logan pulled you outside.

“Get in the car,” Logan demanded.

“No. You don’t get to tell me what to do! You also don’t get to ask me to stay and then not let me be here.”

“It’s too dangerous! Charles is—He is lucid today, but it’s not always like this, and he can control the seizures and the psychic attacks. You could die, just like the others.”

“I’d rather die in your arms than die homeless on the streets.”

Logan let go of your hand and stepped back. His hand ran down his face in frustration—at himself and the situation. He would rather that, too. That he knew your fate than you die in some alley. But he didn’t want you to have to watch him and Charles decline. Logan knew he couldn’t have it both ways.

You could see the war raging in his mind. You stepped closer and gently took his face in your hands. “I also don’t want you to die alone… I know that something is wrong… I’m staying. We can do this your way, but I’m staying.”

“Fine. But you follow my rules.”

~~~

Logan’s rules were stupid in your eyes, but you were willing to follow them, at least for a little while. The biggest rule Logan had was that you were not allowed to go near Charles unless Logan was home. You thought it was ridiculous and told him as such, but he was still insistent anyway. However, perhaps the biggest thing Logan insisted on was that you two had separate bedrooms. 

“It’s for your own good,” Logan told you.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Or it’s for your own good. You just don’t want me to figure out what’s wrong with you. So you’re still running and hiding.”

Logan hated how well you knew him. That first night you spent there, neither of you got any sleep. You couldn’t help but think about crawling in bed with Logan, though both of you were stuck with uncomfortable twin beds. There was a time when that wouldn’t have mattered. When you two were stuck with a small sleeping situation, Logan would pull you on top of him, holding you there all night. That’s where you wanted to be. In his arms. 

Logan was itching to go to you. To hold you and beg for forgiveness for everything he had done to hurt you. But he couldn’t let himself. Logan needed to keep you at a distance still. He believed it would make it easier when he died from the poison in his body. Though he was sure that you could tell he was already dying.

You, Logan, Charles, and Caliban quickly fell into a routine. Caliban would sleep in the tank every night with Charles. You would make breakfast for the bunch and switch Caliban out so that he could eat and get some more rest. You would stay with Charles, making sure he ate and took his meds until Logan left for work. Logan would always escort you from the tank into the smelting plant before leaving. You took it upon yourself to clean up the smelting plant, trying your best to make it more homey while Caliban took care of Charles. You also took care of lunch and dinners.

Logan would often work late. You made sure that Charles and Caliban ate and went to bed while you waited up for Logan. You had a few books in your belongings, so you would wait on the dingy couch with a book until Logan came home. You would always watch him carefully as he entered and hung up his jacket, trying to hide his pained groans. Logan would hobble over to the table, grabbing the alcohol on his way before you warmed up the food. The two of you would eat in silence.

“Goodnight, Logan,” you would say softly every night after cleaning up. 

“Night, sweetheart,” he would mumble as you walked away.

This routine went on for months, barely ever changing. Logan had noticed that Caliban and Charles were doing better with you around. It helped that they had another person to help ease the burdens and talk to. Charles hadn’t had a seizure since before you arrived, with all of you not taking that for granted.

Logan began to realize that you were doing so much to take care of the three of them, but no one was really taking care of you. You deserved more than that. 

The first gift he showed up with was a new book. It appeared outside your door one of the rare nights when you had gone to bed before Logan got home. 

The next gifts were weeks later and spread out. Logan felt bad that you were stuck in an uncomfortable bed with a flimsy sheet. He knew that your mutation kept you warm, but you still deserved to be comfortable. Each of the gifts was already on your bed when Logan left for work. The first one was new sheets, already fitted against your bed. The next one was a blanket, and then there were new pillows with a whole new mattress as the last one.

You couldn’t understand how Logan was affording these items. You knew that money was tight and felt guilty that he was spending so much on you. The only way you could think to repay him was through your grocery list and the food you made. You knew what meals Logan liked and had them on a constant rotation for him.

Charles and Caliban watched the quiet gifting with much annoyance. They both believed that you should just talk it out.

“Logan is not working today,” Caliban said. “You should talk to him.”

“He’s not the talking type,” you responded, finishing up getting breakfast ready. “Besides… I don’t know if it could help anything now.”

“You never know until you try.”

You ignored the comment as you picked up the tray. “I’ll be out with Charles.”

Caliban sighed as you left, and Logan came down the stairs. Logan grabbed the plate that you had already prepared for him, along with the cup of coffee, and sat at the table.

“She’ll be glad to have you home today,” Caliban commented.

“Sure,” Logan scoffed.

“She misses you.”

“And you would know?”

“I often find her crying as she works.”

That immediately caught Logan’s attention. “What?”

But before Caliban could respond, a high-pitched mental sound rang through their minds. Caliban froze while Logan groaned in pain. Moving as fast as Charles’ seizure would allow, Logan grabbed the medication and fought to get into the tank. He needed to stop Charles and get to you. When he opened the door of the tank, Charles was in bed, seizing, while you had collapsed to the ground. Logan ground his teeth and pushed harder. 

Far too long for his liking, Logan reached Charles’ bedside and injected the meds into him. The seizure stopped, and Logan collapsed to his knees with a grunt. He immediately crawled over to you, only to find you bleeding from your nose and ears. It was his worst nightmare come true again. Caliban stumbled into the tank, covered, as Logan swept you into his arms. He stood up with you, not caring how much pain he was in himself.

“Take care of him,” he mumbled as he carried you out of the tank. 

Every part of his body and soul ached as he carried you up to your room and tucked you in there. You were still breathing, giving him hope. But the last time you had experienced one of Charles’ seizures, you had been in a coma for months. Logan didn’t know if he would survive that again. 

With gentle care, Logan cleaned off your face once you stopped bleeding. He sat in a chair beside your bed, leaning forward with his head down and hands clasped together. You were out for the rest of the day before you finally showed signs of waking up. You moaned as you moved to stretch a little and opened your eyes. Looking over, you saw Logan sitting there, tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes were red and he wasn’t even bothering to hide the heartbreak.

“You can’t be here,” he whispered.

“Logan—“

“No! You can’t be here. What I was trying to prevent from happening almost happened! You could have died!” He stood up, clenching his fists together, almost like he wished he could physically fight this battle. “I— I can’t— I love you too damn much to lose you like this! I just want you to be alive and safe. And that’s not possible here with Charles… here with me.”

“I have nowhere to go.”

“I know! And it’s all my fucking fault! I broke my promise, and now you’re struggling, and it’s all my fault. I hate myself for putting you in those situations! But I— I can’t have you here and watch Charles kill you like he did all the others…”

“James,” you reached out for his hand, relieved when he let you take it. You could see some of the tension leave his shoulders as you squeezed his hand.

“I can’t live without you, sweetheart.” He plopped back into the chair, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this… to be the man I need to be for you and make the right decision.” His grip on your hand tightened. “I need you like I need air to breathe.”

“Then don’t run. Don’t push me away.”

“It’s not safe here… Charles could have killed you today.”

“But he didn’t. And Caliban told me that he’s been more lucid and less prone to seizures. Telling me to leave would make it worse… And then what will happen to you? Who would take care of you?”

“I don’t need you to worry about me, honey.”

“How can I not?” Tears slipped down your cheeks. “I have worried about you every day since I woke up. I masked it with anger because I thought that would help me handle my situation more, but it didn’t… I know you’re dying, James. Whether you want to be honest with yourself or me, that doesn’t matter. I can see it. And… I can’t let you die alone. Please don’t make either of us die alone.”

Logan launched himself at you, wrapping you up in his arms and holding you close. He was full-on sobbing now; the walls that he had put up now crumbled to dust. “I’m so sorry… baby, I’m so sorry…” 

Your arms came around to hold him. “Please don’t make me leave…”

“No, no,” Logan shook his head as he pulled back and gently cradled your head in his hands. “You’re not going anywhere… Honey… I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing.”

“I will never stop, baby. Until my dying breath. And I never expect your forgiveness for my behavior… for my words.” He reluctantly let you go as he pulled your dog tags out from underneath his shirt.

“My ring,” you gasped as you saw it sitting there.

“I went back and got it,” he explained as he removed it from the chain. “I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else taking it.”

“I thought it was gone… I thought…”

One of Logan’s hands went up to cup your cheek as the other held your ring. “I said things I didn’t mean… I told you that our marriage wasn’t real when it was the most real thing in my entire life. You are my wife. I am your husband. Whether or not it’s on an official document.” He easily slipped the ring on your finger, eyes boring into yours. “You are my wife.” He moved his hands to your neck before he kissed your cheek. “You are my wife.” He then kissed your other cheek. You were growing hotter as his beard scratched your skin in a different way than you were used to. “I am your husband.” He kissed your nose. “You are my wife.” Then his lips finally crashed onto yours.

You pulled Logan closer as he fought for dominance in your mouth. Slowly, you lay down, forcing Logan to get on top of you. Logan never broke the kiss, taking you in like a starving man. His hands moved to slide under your shirt, feeling your heated skin. He groaned as he pulled his hands away, and his lips left yours.

“I’m sorry,” you panted. “I’m just… It’s been too long.”

“I know, honey,” he rasped. “I’m feeling the same way.”

“I can try to cool down—“

“Don’t. I can handle it.” He kissed you again. “Let me try to make amends.”

next chapter >

[voikiraz]

— In 𐔌 𝓜y ͡꒱ eyes [ l.hs ]

Lovers . Bf!heeseung x fem!reader ⠀𝑤. Petnames, skinship, that's it i think step ? #885 M.recordings [ if this feels rushed or forced pls tell me, again this is part of @cupidhoons series ahhh, I can't believe I actually got both done, but hope you like it >< ]

Syn. Four times heeseung marked your moment as the most special and decided he wants to keep you next to him forever.

This is so silly but i think heeseung would have a photo binder full of polaroids of you, pictures of you guys on dates, his friends and family etc. And he definitely has one in his wallet too ( I'm indulging in lover ; heeseung )

𝑜𝑛𝑒

It was a random date night, but considering that you haven't had some time for yourselves in a while, it hit you differently, and you sure missed him, it was a day that you appreciated more each second the more you think about it.

Knowing that he put so much effort in taking you out every week even though you knew his days were jam packed.

“Thank you hee, I missed going out with you, I was starting to experience withdrawals” you say, twirling around the glass containing your drink while you waited for the food.

“Anything for you baby, plus you deserve it” he said, holding your hand and the night continued on, talking about your weeks and sharing each other's food (or stealing it ).

And by the end of the day, he had to pull out his polaroid camera, he genuinely had it with him all the time.

It was his way of keeping the moment with him for as long as he could.

He asked one of the waiters to take a picture of you two, and you displayed the bouquet of flowers he got you this morning, white and pure like the love he provides you.

𝑡𝑤𝑜

You were very tempted to ignore your friends and go back to sleep, why would they wake you up before sunrise just so you can enjoy the good weather?

But they drove a hard bargain the moment they told you heeseung was coming too, who were you to decline spending time with your boyfriend.

You got up and started getting ready at a speed that made your friends scoff at you at how fast you changed your mind.

As you walked around the empty streets near the river, all you could focus on was him, making you earn a few ( fake ) disappointed sighs from your friends, declaring that they hate couples ( even though they're your biggest supporters ).

The group stopped somewhere to decide where they should have breakfast before moving any further, forgetting the two love birds somewhere on the other side of the road.

And they stood there, sickeningly staring at each other as if they weren't capable of ever looking away.

And when heeseung decided that you look way too pretty to not snap a picture, he pulled out his camera, and so did jake, he thought this was the perfect moment to capture your intense love for each other.

“You're so gorgeous, my love” Jake heard heeseungs voice mumble those few words out and he wished he minded his own business.

“Okay enough please, never do that infront of us again” Jake complained in a whiney voice, brushing you off and walking further.

𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒

On a warm night, when your boyfriend decided that it's the perfect weather for a sleepover and some hot chocolate, the last thing you expected to do is let said boyfriend drag you out in the cold.

“Y/n come on there's shooting stars outside.” He said almost in a whiny voice, wearing his heavy jacket and waiting for you by the door.

You were contemplating, did you really want to get out from under the comfortable blankets to go see shooting stars?

Well, If he was asking so nicely, how cruel would you be if you denied him such a request?

“Fine, give me a second.” You said, running up the stairs to go get your jacket then beelining towards where he stood once more.

He threw a giddy smile on his face and a light kiss on your cheeks, one that appears with a chuu sound paired with it, making you giggle.

He pulled your wrist and in a second you were outside, enjoying the snow and the shooting stars, the cold breeze contrasting the warm toned living room that you were buried in a second before.

“Omg we should take a picture, come here” he pulled you close to him, holding the camera up and hiding his face in the warmth of his jacket.

‘Click’

“It's so pretty,” he said in awe, then looked at you in a swift motion “not as pretty as you though.” He paired his flirty line with a wink.

𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟

It was finally new years night, and you were excitedly waiting for the countdown to start, waiting for heeseung to claim you as his new years kiss.

And he delivered with no hesitation, making it feel like it'll never be the last time.

He gave you the world and more. And you were forever grateful for him, the way you could picture yourself living with him for as long as you'll breathe. Safe like you've never been before.

You love Lee Heeseung, and you dont remember what it feels like not to.

“Pose for the camera love birds,” you heard Giselle call for you two and you happily obliged, taking a few pictures on her phone, ( that she'll probably never send to you ).

But of course, you had to take your special polaroid picture with the person you'll want to engrave in your ribs forever.

© voikiraz 2O24

[neithoftheveil]

Neith’s TGCF Fic Recs:

I’ve never made a rec list before, but for Christmas, I wanted to share some (not all—by god, we’d be here forever) of the fics saved to my kindle, some of my bookmarks, and some of my friends’ works (with overlap between those categories).

In no particular order:

tell you every day by scrapimmortal

Adorable amnesia Wulian oneshot that makes me smile.

melt (i’d tell them; put me back in it) by scrapimmortal

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve read this, I would have many dollars; perfection.

The flap of a butterfly’s wing by Ameji

Really enjoyed the political and personal drama in this one. A fun, exciting read that got me thinking about how to approach my own fics.

Pig in the Garden by illuminatingsceadugunga

I love FengQing’s heads exploding over hualian being married pre-third ascension; it’s delightful—very fun fic!

The Supplicant by ardenrabbit

The anticipation in chapter 1 was literally killing me; so excited to see more!

Land of the Callous by starvingwritist

A very fun, well-constructed truth serum Xianle quartet fic; Hualian are perfect for each other, truly. Couldn’t wait to see what would go wrong (and right)!

Heaven is Overwhelming by crispytaco

I love selective mutism fics; this one is very sweet! Comfort read.

there’s no rush by miska_za

Very sweet marathon sex; another comfort read.

quiet like stains by haysel

This soulmate AU has permanently altered my brain. It’s my favorite modern AU.

and the rain won’t make any difference by haysel

The atmosphere and the emotion? Out of this world. Love at first sight that takes your breath away. So sweet.

Your Courage, Your Despair by boomchick

I think about this fic at least once a week. Hualian hurt/comfort is my favorite thing.

‘Til our compass stands still by edenwolfie

Cannot watch the s2 opening of the donghua without getting nostalgia for this fic. Love the OCs. Love the characterization of XL. I would live in this fic if I could.

The Road I Walked Alone by aewea

Gives me literal chills every time (love it). What would happen if the play at the Mid-Autumn Banquet was actually the 100 swords scene.

We Stan Scrap Gege! by paidsubscription

Couldn’t stop laughing and smiling. Love this author’s AUs. Always so well thought out. And the “ghost citizens” are amazingly written!

The southern guide to a happy marriage by illuminate

The way this author writes Mu Qing makes me feral. FengQing get married before Xie Lian ascends a third time. It’s horny. It’s fun.

I can feel your halo by illuminate

Probably my favorite fengqing fanfic; I’ve read it a dozen times! Mu Qing’s spiritual powers are stolen, and he takes full advantage of them being gone to fulfill some long-buried desires.

common love isn’t for us by nobirdstofly

A really fun, dynamic piece that plays with FengQing’s deputy disguises. Hot too!

I Want to Ki** You by tyelperintal

I love every interaction Xie Lian and Mu Qing have in this piece, especially when XL gives way too many details about his sex life in order to help MQ navigate his desire for FX.

Wu Ming Loving Hours by featherpoet

A cute and inventive what-if. A canon divergence from Wuming’s death.

When I Was Older by corduroyserpent

An emotional time travel fic I love. Read it twice. Plan to reread soon!

Nameless Longing by corduroyserpent

A follow-up to the above fic; the “good boy” lives rent free in my brain. A roleplay Wulian fic with a twist ending.

Against All Odds by yuushoku

A really sweet royalty AU where Hua Cheng has to pass three trials to wed Xie Lian. Comfort read.

bring a light by uraa

A cute wangxian/hualian crossover!

charcoal daydreams by beesinspades

One of the first fics I read for this fandom! The first tgcf fic I ever downloaded! Artist HC runs into his old crush when XL applies to be his model.

steady love (in a place we know) by beesinspades

Hurts my heart but in a good way; it’s like missing someone who’s right in front of you. Hualian go on a road trip.

Is he, you know, a follower of Ju Yang? by airawyn

Very cute! Love the fengqing dynamic and banter!

Your Touch Means Everything to Me by fayleen

Love the tension in this one! A canon-divergent first kiss after the Banyue arc.

The State of You by peppaspray

Hot and sweet! Hua Cheng trying to seduce his husband in different forms.

to be seen by blessinglanterns

An interesting look at Hua Cheng coming back from being dispersed on Tonglu. Very sweet.

If you love me for me by fullmetalpotterhead

A really adorable royalty AU where Hua Cheng needs to marry Xie Lian for political reasons but quickly falls in love with him after he disguises himself in order to meet XL before their wedding.

[artistsfuneral]

a/b/o, but for once the story is actually about the beta

big no progrom pack with Geralt, Eskel, Lambert, Gweld and Gardis and Aubry and Clovis

with Lambert still being the youngest of their pack, a beta (thank fuck) who they all say matches really nicely with their scent

Lambert, fresh out of presentation (still changed his body, still felt weird and intrusive and absolutely exhausting, even without it ending in a heat or rut) just goes with it - surely they know what they're talking about

so Lambert is pack. he sits with them, eats with them, trains with them and shares a den (not his bed, he needs his own bed) with them

and nobody really explains anything to him? do they just assume that he knows what to do?? have Gweld and Gardis instinctively know what to do once they presented as omegas? then, why doesn't he know what to do??

why does it feel so wrong?

cue Lambert, during his pack's heat cycle, feeling more like a handmaiden than a pack member. when Gweld and Gardis care for their omegas, they're rewarded with bright smiles and soft kisses, when Lambert does he gets a 'good job'? when Gweld and Gardis care for their alphas, they're hugged and scented and when Lambert does he gets a pat on the shoulder?

do they even want him there?

it feels obvious that they do not. so after their cycle is over he walks out on them (hates that his instincts won't let him leave while they're still at it, while he still can work for them) and doesn't look back

two years later he finds himself in Tretogor of all places, chewing through a stale piece of bread that seriously has seen better days but was half off at the market, while watching a newly mated alpha omega pair making eyes at each other

and he just- he feels his pack bond breaking and he cries, silent tears running down his face while he eats a piece of bread that suddenly tastes so much worse

Meanwhile Madison is grappling with the fact that not every issues can be settled by committee

meanwhile six other witchers are going absolutely nuts over the fact that they feel the bond to their youngest, sweetest, grumpiest pack member fading away

this is how things went from their perspective:

they're litter mates, close knit and seemingly perfectly balanced: two alphas, two omegas, two betas

and then - decades later - they scent a new pack mate and it's that one guy, only surviver of his cohort, half-feral, spicey, grumpy Lambert

he doesn't really fit a beta's usually calm, softspoken demeanor, but they don't care, because he fits their pack so well, they never knew how much they needed him until they met Lambert

immune to their omegas' charm and their alphas' dominance, Lambert does what Gweld and Aubry would never be bold enough to do

he openly berates them when they're being stupid, always saying out loud what he thinks, doesn't cower in front of the alphas and neither is too soft with their omegas

but

but he never initiates anything that could be interpreted as more than just friendly, sleeps in his own bed, doesn't seem to like prolonged contact and not once has asked for anything during their heat cycle

they just assumed Lambert wasn't interested. because he's always so up front with everything else, surely he'd just say something, right?

wrong. and they realize that as soon as he vanishes right after they calm down from their latest cycle - "I thought he just stepped out for a moment, what do you mean he's gone?!"

and for two years he doesn't return to Kaer Morhen and the pack grows morw and more worried

and then they feel their bond to him fail

and all hell breaks loose

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Damn that ivy fic hurt so good I need another.

How about ivy x reader but iii is in love with reader too but always thought she only loved him as an older brother but on a random friday she‘s tipsy and confessed to him that she had a huge crush on him but he never made a move but ivy did and she eventually fell in love with him?

Love in depths of silence

iii had always been a class clown. Never cared much for it. Never cared that he looked silly or unserious. He enjoyed it. Letting his bubbly personality show. It was him being his true self just… minus the deeply loving and caring side. When you had walked in with just as much sas he knew you were gonna get along just fine. And boy had he underestimated.

Crew often joked that you two should never be left alone unsupervised because if not one then the other was dancing on top of the tables or trying to prove that one could lift the leg higher than the other. There was constant laughter with you. Genuine one. One that made him giddy inside for hours as he thought back on it. But there was also a deeper part to this. One where you two would only have to look at one another to feel it. The pull. The slowly growing desire. They say that eyes never lied and in this case, they did the most talking.

When the flirting started it was hard to distinguish it from silly banter. So the push and pull started. That night in London after the fully sold-out arena happened. The thrill of it all. The buzzing in the air. The pins and needles in the fingers. The dim back room. iii’s hand in your hair as he pressed you against the wall. That kiss had it all. The longing. The desire. The love blossoming in silence. You had been the outlet and then when he had seen your big eyes looking back at him as he pulled away. He had panicked. Fully panicked he spewed something about this being a mistake as he stumbled back into the main room.

It had all shifted after that. For a handful of weeks, you two had fully ignored each other. iii knew that he had to be the one who had to take the first step. But how do you make a comeback after that? So he waited. Watched. You slowly went back to a somewhat similar banter. And after thinking of it for days he had finally bit the dust and went up to your hotel room. Palms sweating as he waited for you to answer. “Hey”, your cheeks were flushed, only a button-up jacket over your frame. “Hi, I was…”, iii frowned slightly as he let himself drink you in. “I…”, “Baby, who is that?”, that voice alone sends iii’s heart falling to his feet. “Did you need something?”, you asked softly but all iii can focus on now are the rustling sheets and the sound of footsteps. His shirtless bandmate walking from the back side of the room. “Hey, dude what’s up?”, iv says casually pulling his pants back up. iii honestly felt like laughing. No, the first reaction was to punch iv actually but he knew he had no right to so he had to back away. “Can’t seem to find my phone, thought that I maybe…”, iii was quick to shrug, “Actually maybe I do know where it could be”. And he’s turning so quickly he’s surprised he doesn’t tumble.

It was one agony-filled pretend fest after that. His only salvation was that you two didn’t seem too keen on public affection but even then fate would pull him to you. Making sure he would end up in the back room just as you were straddling iv, kissing him. Eyes falling to your interlinked fingers as you walked back to the bus. Ivy’s clothes you wore. He had a feeling that he could have had that. That it had been right there but he had fucked it.

And he had thought that he was starting to get over it. That he would move on. Make peace with it. Should have known it was a fool’s dream. The moment you stepped into the pub for that post-tour celebration. All iii could do was look at you. The lace dress. The heels. You were a vision. A fucking apparition he had been chasing for months now. One that had given him a fleeting hug before settling on iv’s lap.

“You’re quiet”, you nudged his shoulder as most of the guys had taken it upon themselves to either go dance or refill everyone’s drinks. “Just tired”, iii shrugged. You were inches apart. He could feel the warmth from your body. Smell your perfume. Then you just let out a giggle as you shook your head. “What’s so funny?”, he asked turning to you slightly. “Just… you know I had the biggest crush on you”, you mussed still shaking your head, “and I still think that you’re an ass for what you did”. iii wrapped his hand around his glass tightly, “I apologized”, “Did you?”, you asked bitterly. “I was pinning after you like an idiot and then you had pretty much called me one too”, you sighed, staring ahead. “Ever thought about the fact that maybe I had feelings for you too?”, iii bit back. “Oh, please”, you rolled your eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for months and I fucking blew it all out the window”, iii put his glass down on the table running a hand over his face. “Iii”, “Don’t give me that pity party boo shit”, he grumbled pushing out of the booth. “Don’t you fucking walk away”, you hissed following after him just his steps were a lot bigger and faster. “Iii this is your last warning”, you grunted as you both pushed into the called night. “Or what?”, he turned back harshly. You two were all up in each other’s faces at this point. “Or I will let go and you will never be able to reach me”, you whispered. “Go back inside”, iii said coldly, “your boyfriend is looking for you no doubt”. “You’re being an asshole again”, you muttered. “Just let me go”, he shook his head, stepping backwards. “Do you really want me so bad if you’re walking away for the second time?”, you muttered bitterly. “You don’t know shit about it”, iii shook his head, walking away.

[callahanisms]

apt.

unfortunately i don't really drink so i don't know any drinking games. so this fic is based on the song's ✨vibes✨

not beta read. first draft is my final draft mentality. uhhh based on promos and nothing else so if this becomes outdated next week i'm so sorry

pairing: ash x gender neutral! reader

word count: 2.1k words

accompanying bot: 🍻

You weren’t a heavy drinker. Not like you could be one anyways, considering you were deemed the designated sober friend for tonight. Not that you minded. You were more than cautious about drinking at a frat house. It was Essex’s only Asian frat and you had been invited by your friend Myung-Jun, or “MJ” as some of your friends call her. In all honesty, Essex had little diversity—an unshocking reality for 2021’s “Most Liberal College in America” which explains why Greek life was still mostly led by the historically white fraternities. The doors to the party were open to everyone because everyone at Essex liked to party.

Except your friends, for some reason.

You wanted to go with other people you know, outside of darling Myung-Jun. She was sweet and super into this guy at the frat and you didn’t want to end up third wheeling. But all your friends had other plans.

“There’s an event tonight at the antiracist research center. And as the events coordinator, I have to go. I organized it. I’ve been working on this for months!” is the excuse your friend Apinya gave you.

“I have homework.” was the excuse you got from three of your other friends.

“I have to stay at the lab to work on this report.” was Whitney’s reasoning.

“There’s an event at the KJ house tonight. Sorry.” Multiple of your friends were going to the KJ House tonight.

So essentially, it was just you and Myung-Jun and her friends, most of which you just met. And first meetings were always a little awkward, even at parties. You’re only nursing some Sprite in the red solo cup when Myung-Jun walks over, giggling. “(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” She says, her arm around the shoulders of a girl with shaggy dark hair, high cheekbones, and pouty lips wearing a denim jacket. “Oh my god! Are you having fun?”

“Yeah. I’m doing great.”

“You looked so lonely over here, so I thought I’d bring someone to keep you company!” She pats the girl’s shoulders. “(Y/N), this is Ash. She’s Talia’s friend.”

“Talia? Like…Talia Tran the philosophy major who already has an idea for what her capstone is going to be? That Talia Tran?” You ask.

“I mean…that’s one way to put it.” Your heart nearly stops hearing her voice. You can’t describe it exactly without letting someone else hear it. But her voice is warm, smooth and there’s a slight hint of a rasp. She clears her throat. Her cheeks are pink. “But yeah. Talia Tran. She’s cool.”

“You should’ve seen her! We taught her how to play APT. She can really hold her liquor!”

Ash shrugs. “I barely feel anything.”

“(Y/N) on the other hand, is a lightweight.”

“I-I’m not!” You feel your own face heat up with embarrassment. But it was true. A lightweight and depending on the day, you either got sleepy or really giggly. The first option didn’t exactly make drinking outside of your home or a friend’s place safe.

Myung-Jun looks between you two, smirking. “Ash is also single.”

Ash looks over at the slightly shorter girl. “Okay. Outing me as single already.”

Myung-Jun only giggles before walking away, leaving you alone with the attractive girl. She looks nice beneath the blue and purple lights of the fraternity house basement. “She does this a lot. When she’s drunk, she tries to matchmake. Unfortunately it actually seems to work.” You explain. It hasn’t worked so far, mostly because you didn’t want another situationship. Your last one ended pretty badly and left you laying in bed for the remainder of the year. It being winter probably didn’t help.

“How long have you two known each other?” Ash says, raising the volume of her voice so you can hear her over the loud music and people singing and dancing to it.

“Ring Ding Dong.”

Definitely fits the vibes.

Ash glances back, slowly moving towards you. The denim jacket is grazing your knuckles. She looks at you curiously with her eyes. “Since high school. She also ended up moving from the city to the suburbs like me. So we became friends in a school where everyone’s known each other since they were in diapers.” You also raise the volume of your voice as you talk to her.

“And you both went to Essex together? That’s cute.” Ash leans towards you, glancing down at your cup. “What’s your poison?”

“I prefer weed. A good edible. Not much of a drinker.” You take a sip. “It’s Sprite.”

“Honestly smart. I think I took too many shots of soju. I started hating the taste of yogurt.”

“That’s like the worst flavor!” You can’t stop the small laugh that leaves you and your lips from curling into a smile.

“It’s not. It’s very underrated. But honestly, I had enough for tonight.” She takes your cup and presses it to her lips.

If it was a man who did that, you would hate them immediately. But here was Ash, taking your cup and taking a sip of your Sprite. It was weirdly attractive, in a drunken sort of way. Of course, she might be a little tipsy, which would explain the lack of inhibition. Sober people usually don’t take other people’s drinks. “How do you know I didn’t mix it with anything?”

Ash looks at you up and down. “MJ told me you’re the designated sober friend for today.”

“That I am. But some people don’t like being sober friends.” You take the cup from her hand. You can’t help but admire how…relaxed she is. You’d probably be a bit of a mess if you weren’t sober. Some of these parties could be overwhelming. “Some sober friends end up more wasted than the people that brought them out.”

“Okay well…you’re not wrong. That’s happened on more than one occasion.” You finish up the Sprite and set the cup down on a flat surface. It wasn’t your house. They’d clean it up anyways.

“It smells too sweet down here.”

“That’s from all the people vaping inside.”

“Do you want to get some fresh air?”

Your heartbeat picks up a little bit. “Yeah. Sure.” You swallow your saliva, letting Ash take your hand and guide you through the dancing people, up the stairs, and out of the frat house.

Her hand was soft and the silver rings on her fingers were cool to the touch. You want to look at them more closely, feel the intricate designs and study them, ask her about how she got them, how long she’s been collecting jewelry. She was a silver girl it seems.

The air outside tastes better. It’s more crisp and you’re able to breathe without issue and needing to deeply inhale for some semblance of oxygen. But the air bites back against you through your thin clothes. Goosebumps form on your skin and you involuntarily shiver. It was supposed to be warm today. But you could never trust the weather app, could you?

“Now we can talk without yelling at each other.” She says, leaning against the wall of the house besides you.

“And breathe. Finally.” Your hand slides into the pocket of your pants and you could feel the joint inside of its tube. Pre-rolled of course. You didn’t have time to roll while working on your midterm papers. And you’re tempted to light it.

“So what are you studying?”

“Is that the question we’re starting off with?” You turn your head to look at her.

“It’s college. We all start with that question. What’s your name, what are your pronouns, where are you from, what are you majoring in.” Ash puts her hand out.

You roll your eyes. But you tell her anyway. Your name, your pronouns, where you’re from, what you’re majoring in at Essex. She doesn’t interrupt you, she just watches you with curious eyes. You fail to notice how her eyes glance down at your lips while you’re talking, too busy looking at other things because eye contact was uncomfortable. You soon end up going on a small tangent. About what, you don’t exactly remember because you mostly remember the biting chill of the wind.

“Sounds rough. I’m sorry your situationship was an asshole.”

You have to stop talking, looking at her. She’s looking at you with those big eyes of hers. Beneath the porch light, they look dark blue. Had you been talking about your situationship? “Yeah…I just…wish they were better.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Your hands rub your upper arms, trying to get some friction going to warm yourself up.

Ash slowly slides her jacket off. “Here. Take it.”

“What? But aren’t you…” You look at what she’s wearing beneath the jacket. A baggy Depeche Mode shirt and a black compression shirt beneath. “Wouldn’t you also be cold?”

“I’m used to it.” She shrugs. “Come on. Take the jacket. Don’t be stubborn.”

The jacket does look cozy. So you take it, your fingers brushing against her own, and you place the jacket on your shoulders. “It’s a shame. If I was your situationship, I wouldn’t leave you for another average white guy.” She takes a step closer and you can feel her body heat.

“Really?” You raise your eyebrows. “I don’t know. People love average white guys. That’s the whole point of the white boy of the month trend!”

Ash clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “People are…shortsighted, I guess we’ll say.” Her hand cups your face. You blink. Shivers run down your spine. “They don’t realize they have someone awesome in front of them.”

“And…are you…” You lean closer. “Are you saying…you’re not shortsighted?”

“I’m just saying…I appreciate people as they are.”

Your brain can’t process the sudden physical sensation of warmth against your lips. Ash’s lips on yours, her hand holding your face in place so she can set a sensual rhythm. Your stomach churns, your heart feels like it’s going to burst from your rib cage. When you breathe in, you can smell the scent of bergamot and sweet oranges lingering on her clothes. It’s a little overwhelming actually.

The kiss itself is overwhelming.

You pull away, breathing heavy, face hot. You might collapse. Ash looks at you, your lips parted, and there’s a flash of disappointment in her face. “Shit. I’m sorry.” She says immediately, pulling back. You already miss her body heat. “I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No! No!” You grab her other wrist and pull her back towards you. “I…Sorry. I just…I haven’t kissed someone in a while.” You swallow. “A-And…” Ash looks at you expectantly, but there’s a sad expectation reflecting in her eyes. It’s as if she’s expecting you to reject her.

Who would reject her?

“You’re the first person in a while. And I…I liked it.”

Those sad expectations leave her eyes, replaced with a sparkle that mixed hope and suggestion. “So…do you want ano—”

You kiss her again before she can finish her question. You add more pressure to the kiss and some more passion. Ash melts beneath your touch, pulling you closer with one hand resting on the side of your neck and the other resting at your hip. She enjoys that you taste of Sprite. Her teeth gently bite down on your bottom lip and pull, causing you to gasp. Your back stiffens from the shiver that runs up along it, your hands beginning to slide along Ash’s sides. Your other hand goes to the back of her neck, gently wrapping some of her hair around your finger.

Ash finally pulls away, her breathing heavy, her chest moving up and down. “Do you…want to get out of here?” She asks.

“I…” You think back to your friends. “I shouldn’t—”

“You absolutely should!”

Both you and Ash nearly jump. You both look, seeing Myung-Jun taking a hit from her vape and blowing. “MJ! H-How long have you been out here!” Your voice cracks as you speak, only furthering the embarrassment of getting caught making out with a girl you just met.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt.” The Korean girl giggles. “Go have fun (Y/N). Just text me when you get back to our dorm. If you get back.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m…W-What about you? And being your sober friend?”

“(Y/N), I’m smarter than that. We have multiple sober friends. Besides, Kimberly and Bela are here. They can take care of me.”

You furrow your brows, thinking. “Since when…” You shake your head. “Okay. Fine. Text me updates okay?”

“Okay~” Myung-Jun winks at you, taking another hit from her vape and then sauntering back into the frat house.

You lean your head against the wall of the house, groaning a little bit. Ash can’t help but let out a small laugh. “Don’t look so embarrassed.” She says.

“I’m not embarrassed.” You look down at her.

“I think your face says differently.” Ash grabs your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours. And you let her pull you off the wall and take you back to her dorm.

You ended up submitting your paper late. Thank god for having a chill professor.

[cannibalistickitty]

—HEAD IN THE

WALL—

୨୧ plot: you knew your boyfriend had trouble showing affection but did he even like you?

୨୧ warnings: angst, happy ending, ooc!megumi but IDGAF!!!!

୨୧ notes: help this has been rotting in my drafts for months anyways happy b-day megumi:3 here’s an angsty fic for y’all😇

you knew he loved you, maybe you hoped he did . it was fine that he couldn’t show his affection, that was okay . but sometimes you needed it . you were understanding, but when he gave a girl his number because she seemed “nice” you wanted reassurance, you wanted to feel it, feel and know that he loved you . megumi sat on the edge of your bed, you had been talking for about a half hour, every once and a while he would nod and give short responses, was he even listening to you? he wanted to keep your relationship a secret, you didn’t know why but he said it would just be for the best

the doorbell rang, you quickly opened the door to see nobara and yuji outside your house . you four had planned to go out and get lunch, megumi quickly put on his shoes, you had already been ready for an hour . now you were walking to the small cafe where you were gonna eat, today you felt brave, so you brushed your hand against megumi’s, trying to hold his hand . yet he just pulled away and went to catch up with nobara and yuji who were in front of you both, leaving you to walk alone

you felt like crying . you didn’t even feel like talking to him, you knew he had trouble showing affection but it felt you questioning if he even liked you . you could only hope he did

lunch was…interesting, you stayed quiet the whole time . megumi had seemed to notice but he didn’t quite care . you and him lived on the same street so when you all split up to go home you were stuck with him, it shouldn’t be awkward, you love each other . but it was, it was really awkward . the walk home was silent, occasional throat clearing was all that was heard . “you wanna come over to my house?” you asked megumi in an almost pathetic tone

“oh—uhm—I have some things to do . at home .” you awkwardly nodded, “kay” you unlocked your door and slipped inside your house, you ran up to your bedroom and grabbed your phone, playing your favourite cry song, what else was a hurt girl supposed to do? you sobbed into your pillow, you missed him . you missed when you were friends, somehow he was more open before . you cried on your bed for what felt like hours, you couldn’t take feeling like this, you felt unloved . you turned off the music playing in your headphones and sighed

days went by where you didn’t see him, you completely ignored him, you truly didn’t want to see him . yet you were the only thing on his mind, he wanted to see you and feel you again, he regretted not holding your hand, he knew it meant a lot to you . he felt like he failed you . lucky for him you were only a minute away from him . on a Sunday night he made his way over to your house, he missed your voice, maybe you’d be up to hanging out?

he rang your doorbell, you were usually the one to answer, and just like every time you when the door opened there you were dressed in your pjs . “megumi? what are you doing here?” he froze, he didn’t know what to say, he probably should have practiced what he was gonna say . “I—miss you?” it came out more like a question, the frown on your face indicated you interpreted it as a question . “that sounded like a question, megumi” you said in a flat tone

“fuck” he whispered, the one time he tried to finally share something with you he did it wrong . “do you wanna come…inside?” he nodded and you stepped aside, closing the door and leading him to your room . he sat down on your bed with you, “can i ask you something?” his head perked up, “uhm—sure” you sighed, “do you actually love me?” his eyes widened, he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to be vulnerable but he didn’t even want to let you down again

“please don’t..lie to me” the fact that you thought he’d have to lie about loving you hurt him . he wanted, no, he needed to show how much he loved you, so he thought what better time to do it then now? “i love you” he gently grabbed your hands in his, his sudden action shocked you . he let go of your hands and hugged you, everything that didn’t happen was happening at once . “megumi what has gotten into you” you chuckled, “i love you, a lot” he mumbled into the crook of your neck . he wanted to hold you forever and reassure you that he did love you, but for now he could just hold you

since that night he’d been more affectionate, not too much but enough for you . he told a couple of his friends about your relationship, and now he would hold your hand in public, sometimes . your connection felt stronger, sometimes when you would kiss him you noticed a light tint of pink of his cheeks . you felt like you had him back, like your megumi was finally here . you had planned your first sleepover, it was on a saturday night and it just you and megumi

saturday night came quickly, you and megumi laid in your bed, no lights on except your small salt lamp next to your bed . you were both getting sleepy, rain tapped against the window as megumi read a book to you, he noticed how you started to look very tired, like you were about to fall asleep . “okay i think that’s enough for tonight” he said and you nodded, he put the book down on your nightstand and shifted into a more comfortable position . he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest, what was he doing? he absolutely never did this

“gumi what are you doing?” you said in almost shock, “cuddling my girl, what else would i be doing?” he muttered into your hair, “mh—okay, goodnight…” you said in a suspicious tone, he kissed your neck, “goodnight” he said before turning the lamp off

[convexicalcrow]

fic: when the void stares back (ren&false)

a/n: posting a bit late bc i've had family stuff going all weekend oml. written for the @hermitadaymay solstice social event! found out too late that my partner wasn't able to participate in the end due to irl stuffs, so i only have a fic for you, but i hope you still enjoy it. <3

read here, or on ao3

-

"Ren."

"Yes, Falsie?"

"Don't you ever get…"

False walked to the small window in the bridge, watching nothing but stars fill the view. She wasn't sure how to word her thoughts. Perhaps she'd been cooped up here too long, maybe that was it. Certainly, she'd broken the silence because it had grown a little too uncomfortable.

"Don't I ever get what?"

"I dunno, I think maybe I thought space would be … more filled with people or something. I wasn't expecting the silence."

Ren joined her and stood next to her, tail wagging gently behind him. "Yeah, well. It is pretty empty this side of the galaxy. We got another two months travel though, do you want to go back into stasis?"

She scrunched her nose up at the thought. "Oh, it's not that. Besides, someone has to keep you sane out here."

Ren laughed. "I mean, that's very true."

She turned to face him and smiled. "Don't want you hallucinating again, do we?"

"Hey, it was one time! And it was the spores, I promise! I'm all good now!" Ren protested.

False gently moved past him, shaking her head. "I mean, you say that Ren."

"Hey!" Ren pretended to sound offended, but even he knew what he was like. "At least this new planet won't have spores, or so Gigacorp tells me."

"Yeah, but their planetary intel is 20 years behind at this point. I mean, even this ship is old for one of her size. There's so much she can't do that the newer ships can. We wouldn't need to travel an extra two months in a new ship, that's all I'm saying. And the squirtapods create more than enough spores as it is," False said.

"True, true. I've been tinkering behind the scenes on all the blueprints, trying to modernise them, but it's hard. So much of the new tech these days doesn't retrofit easily! It's such a pain!" Ren said.

"At least you're trying. Anyway. Not sure I like the idea of another two months of this, but there's not really much choice there, right? Company policy doesn't let us pilot alone, you know that as well as I," False said.

Ren sat down at a console, pretending to idly check the dials. In reality, they didn't need to do much to run the ship. Grumbot kept it all running well enough with the maintenance drones while they were in stasis and would alert them to any issues. All they had to do was pass the time.

"I dunno, maybe I wish I had…"

Ren's voice faded off. False turned to him. "More people? I think that's it. More people."

Ren idly scratched an ear. "Yeah, I think that's it. More people."

-

This ship was too big for the two of them. A Hermetheus class ship needed a crew of at least 50 to feel in any way full of life. With just the two of them, it felt like they were piloting a casket. Maybe if they had crew in stasis, it might feel okay. She could wake them up to get some more company, take her place while she has some time in stasis as well to keep her own sanity. Instead it was just her and Ren, and the vast emptiness of space.

Had she really signed up for this when she joined Gigacorp? Well, yes, actually. That was the whole reason. Get away from, well. Get away from things. And of course, you didn't need a full crew to scout out planets to colonise. A pair will do. Once they find good planets, then the rest of the group can follow to build up the infrastructure needed for the meganodes or whatever they're called.

She smiled grimly at that thought. She was working for a jumped up telco, of all things. Of course, communications were vitally important in space, she knew that as well as anyone, so it made sense. But it still sounded so silly in her head to be travelling around, finding good planets to put big satellite towers on. Hardly felt glamorous, really. They were tradespeople, electricians, not astronauts. Not that she'd go back, of course.

Her hand clasped around her gun again purely out of habit. It sat at her waist, standard issue Gigacorp weaponry to be used when necessary. It wasn't a very good gun though. It had a janky trigger that False did not like, and its accuracy was atrocious. If there wasn't a sensor in the holster to check the gun was still in there, she'd have ditched it for a proper weapon ages ago. But Gigacorp didn't work like that.

She sat on her bed. She'd been having stasis dreams again. Always tended to happen in the few weeks after leaving stasis. She could tell them apart from regular dreams because they were so strange to her. Figments of places, people, memories of building things and rivers and giant eagles and all sorts. Lots of towers on fire and laboratories she didn't really remember the purpose of. Her sister-

She hadn't thought about her sister in a very long time. Hadn't really seen her since she was a kid anyway. Just remembered her standing in the doorway of a burning ship, telling her to run. So she did. False ran.

She'd dreamed of her before, of course, but not like this. She was her sister, seeing through her eyes. Seeing False leaving her behind. Seeing jail cells and dead scientists and fire and a maniacal laughter. It had shaken her to her core. It was just a dream though, right? Yeah, it was just a dream. Stasis hallucinations to keep her mind busy. That's all it was. Perhaps her hand clutched her gun a little tighter, just in case.

-

False busied herself with inventory. There was still a lot to do before they arrived at the planet, and the sooner they had their equipment and supplies organised, the better. At least, it made False rest easy, and it gave her something to do. Ren usually just took care of the navigation and computers, making sure they had all the supplies on order that they needed. There were always some things they had to order in from Gigacorp, and at least they were finally close enough to tap into the local networks to get more up to date information on the planet they were heading to.

False busied herself in the hangar bay where all the ships were. The exploration ships they would take out to find suitable landing spots needed to be supplied with what would be needed to begin a colony, unpacked from the cargo they'd left with. Sand, dirt, grass, seeds, and, of course, squirtapods and their containment equipment.

The droids were doing the heavy lifting. They were faceless silver things, with simple voices and simple functions. Good enough to maintain a ship at a basic level and lift heavy supplies, but that was about it. But then these droids were as old as the ship itself. A newer ship, and newer droids, would do so much more than they could right now.

She sighed as one of the droids stumbled across a grill and nearly dropped the bag of soil it was carrying. "Oi! Don't you go breaking yourself, or it'll be coming out of our wages!"

"Sorry Ms Symmetry," the droid intoned as it straightened itself up. There was no fluid movement here, just a jerky slow correction to its gait and its foot position as it rebalanced itself.

"Yeah, so you should be. Honestly. You have, like, one job! I have like, sixteen! Get it together!" False said, half-serious, half-laughing at the struggling droid.

She got out of the way once the droid had corrected itself. She didn't really need to supervise them. Grumbot was doing that. But she at least wanted to feel busy, so this was what she did with her time. The thing was, the time would pass faster than she always thought it did. Six weeks very quickly turned into two weeks, and that's when the panic kicked in, even though they were very well prepared.

She sat down on the floor, watching the droids pack the ships up. It occurred to her that Ren was, at least, ten minutes away from her. Maybe twenty if the elevators fucked up like they always did. If something happened to her, something the droids couldn't help with, she was dead. Just, straight up dead. Ren would never get to her in time.

That thought sent a shiver up her spine. She didn't want to die, of course. But they were far too few on a ship that was way too big. The nearest ship could be months away, too. Communications could take days to arrive, if they arrived at all. She tried not to think about this too much. It tended to just make her anxious.

"Falsie, how's the inventory going?" came Ren's voice on the radio, breaking the silence.

"Oh, it's going. Droids are packing up the ships. How's things up there? Still heading on the right track?" False said.

"Yeah, all good up here. You want a break? I'll make you a cuppa tea?" Ren said.

False smiled. "Yeah, sure, be right there."

-

She wasn't, of course, right there. It did take a while to navigate back to the bridge. But she found Ren sitting there with a thermos of tea and a plate of biscuits, a rare treat they'd been saving for months. Thankfully, they had kept well. They'd moved a spare table and chairs into the bridge as there wasn't really anywhere close to take a break or just sit down without risking spilling things onto the consoles. False took a seat and Ren poured her a cup of tea.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Ren said.

"Oh, you know, the vastness of space, how alone we are, how we really should have more crew here, the usual." She laughed to dismiss the fears in her head. It was fine. She was fine.

Ren laughed. "Yeah I hear you, hey Falsie? Wish Gigacorp would stop hoarding their money and get us more crew members. There's all those stasis pods going to waste for crying out loud!"

"I just can't imagine it's cheaper or more efficient to run a ship this big with only two people as opposed to like, I dunno, fifty, you know? We could get prepared for landing in a week instead of two months," False said.

Ren sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I know, I know. Look, I have told them this repeatedly, but do they listen? No! Of course not! There's too much of the universe to explore, they can't spare 50 person crews for every ship!"

"No, I mean, it's not like they're the richest and only corporation in the universe. Can't hurt those profit margins though, can we now? That's why we run in old ships. Too expensive to get new ones," False said.

"Yeah, well, there's worse jobs out there for sure. At least we get to see a bunch of different planets though! That's good, right?" Ren said.

"I mean, I guess? But you can do that on your own. You can just buy a ship with a warp drive and you're set. Small ones aren't that expensive anymore if it's just you," False said.

"What do you think I did before Gigacorp? I went to so many cool planets, Falsie! And now I get to do it as a job! It's so awesome! Don't you think it's awesome?" Ren said, the enthusiasm clear in his voice.

"I guess so, maybe. If you like exploring," False said.

"Don't you like exploring? Surely you must like exploring! Why else would you sign up for these missions?" Ren said.

False shrugged and took a sip of her tea. "Sometimes you just need to- Never mind."

"Oh! Also! I finally managed to get some images of the planet we're going to! Current ones!" Ren said.

He got up and headed over to the console to bring up the pictures. He flicked through a series of pictures of the planet's surface. They showed a rocky planet with pockets of ocean and green land. It didn't look promising to False.

"I bet it's another uninhabited world," False said, going to join him.

"It might not be! There could be life there! Life can thrive anywhere!" Ren said enthusiastically.

"Hmm." False was not yet convinced. "It's just, thirteen out of the last fourteen worlds were uninhabited, is all I'm saying."

"Look, not every planet can have abundant intelligent life! That's actually what we're doing here! We go to a planet, see if it can sustain life, and leave that information for Gigacorp to deal with. Then we move on to the next assignment. It's a perfectly fine system," Ren said.

"What do Gigacorp do with all these planets anyway?" False said. "Feels like it's just busy work at this point."

"It's for the Giganodes! It's connecting the Gigaverse together! Why wouldn't you want to be involved with that?" Ren said.

"So what you're saying is that we're the chumps installing satellite. We're doing the boring cable laying gruntwork of the Gigaverse more like," False said. "I'm not paid enough to care that much about the Gigacorp vision, if I'm honest."

"Aww, come on, it's great work we're doing here! Spreading the love of Gigacorp to new and exciting planets!" Ren said.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Ren."

-

False ran her hand over her ship, a small Valkyrie class tucked behind all the Gigacorp vehicles in the hangar. They'd been all over the galaxy together, and she'd smuggled her aboard when she joined Ren as crew. She wasn't as old as the ship they were piloting, but she had a knack for upgrades and repairs, so she was as good as the newest ships out there at the moment. Warp drive, chameleon skin, the works.

She could just fly off. She could get inside, open the doors, and fly off. Leave all of this behind. It wouldn't take much. She could stash enough supplies in here and just go.

She got inside, in spite of herself. It was comfortable in here. She knew this ship better than she knew herself. She always had a stash of emergency supplies in here. Sometimes, it was quicker to take her to rendezvous with supply ships and stations than get their Hermetheus to change course.

It was always nice to get away from the ship for a while. Talk to different people. Catch up with contacts and friends. Upgrade her ship. Profit a little on the side when she could. She knew how to take care of herself. Ren was always fine. She put Grumbot in autopilot and told him not to touch anything, and they were fine.

She sunk into the pilot's chair, her hands going to the controls through muscle memory. The desire to fly away was very strong. But she knew it would pass. Part of the training was dealing with that flight response that came from spending too much time with your partner. She knew it would pass. Just breathe. Find a supply station. Talk to other people. She'd be fine.

She closed her eyes. Imagined saying the words to open the hangar doors. Powering up the ship. Disappearing into the void like she always wanted to do.

She opened her eyes, still sitting in her ship. She shook the itchiness from her body and left, softly touching her nose as she closed the doors and powered down the ship. One day they would fly again. One day. But not today.

-

"Falsie."

"Yes, Ren?"

Ren shifted a little in his chair. "Did you know you'd never see your home again when you joined Gigacorp?"

"I mean." False glanced at him. "To be honest, I'd left home a long time ago. It didn't really worry me. I was already homeless. Best kind of person for these kinds of missions, I think. No attachments."

"Yeah, but like…" Ren paused. "I mean, you can die out here, and who'd even notice? Everyone's so so far away! By the time they get here, we'll just be skellingtons in the sand or something."

"You been having stasis dreams again, hey?" False said. "What's brought all this on?"

"I dunno. I guess the distance kind of just hit me earlier. Seeing how far we are from anywhere, really. I mean, sure there's planets out there close by, but inhabited planets? The last one was the one we left hundreds of light years away, you know?"

"I think you should stop worrying. Nothing much you can do about it. I mean, what do you want me to do? Magically make an inhabited planet appear? If it's getting to you, you can always retire, of course," False said. "Sorry, that sounded mean. But you know what I mean, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Maybe we should stop at that refuelling station coming up in a couple of days. I think I need to get out of this place for a while. It's doing my head in," Ren said, resigned.

False touched his arm for a moment. "Yeah, maybe we just need to get some time off the ship. Before we get to the planet, of course. We don't actually need to refuel, do we?"

"I mean, it doesn't hurt to get everyone topped up before a mission. And we've been travelling a helluva long time to get here, you know?" Ren said. "And, I dunno, maybe it's a good idea, you know, stock up on anything we need before we land."

"Ren, you don't need to justify it this much. We can just stop there, it's fine," False said.

"Yeah, but, like-"

"Ren, it's fine. We might as well if it's close by. And you clearly need a distraction, so. Maybe we take inventory tomorrow, and then we'll know what to pick up while we're there. Then at least it's a business expense," False said.

"True, true." Ren sighed. "I'll be honest, Falsie, there's really only one thing I want, and it's some actual good stinking food! I'm tired of living off the supplemental day rations! I'm wasting away here, Falsie, I swear!"

False smiled. "You're not wrong. I know why it's there, of course, it's all that will survive the journey, but god, I could do with some actual food."

"We're gonna dine out so stinking good, I promise. So much good food we can take to the planet with us! That'll set us up for a good start," Ren said.

"Yeah, of course," False said.

Ren fell quiet. He got up and went over to the navigation console. False saw him adjust their trajectory to head to the refuelling station. They were lucky one was close by. Sometimes they were months away, and they would have to get by on base power until they got there. Which, to be fair, was not that hard to do with only the two of them. Sometimes, they could go into stasis if there was enough power, but other times, it was just to isolate themselves in a small corner of the ship, power that for life support, and shut down most of the rest of the ship.

It would be nice to be off the ship, though. Talk to some different people. See some different things. Trade in some of the, well. Some of the things she'd collected over the years. If she'd learned anything at all over her lifetime, it was to keep your own money that your employer couldn't touch. You never know when you'll need to make an escape.

[nemaliwrites]

have a lil snippet from the siren AU! changing up my writing process for this piece - I'm drafting this one in prose rather than my usual zero-drafty style, so we'll see how that changes things!

The first thing your uncle says to you when he picks you up from the station is: "Stay away from the water."

You pause halfway in the front seat, mouth still poised to shape the syllables of, Fine, how are you?

If this were coming from anyone else, you would have written it off as a joke. You may not know your uncle very well - you wouldn't even have recognized him if not for your mother showing you his picture before you got on the train. The crease between his eyebrows, though, tells you that this is not a man who smiles very often, let alone laughs.

"...What?" you ask warily, car door still open as though leaving yourself the chance to bolt right back onto the next train home.

"The ocean," Dojima clarifies. "You've never been, right?"

You shake your head. If you're being honest, there isn't much you're looking forward to about this trip - a city boy through and through, you're far too familiar with all of the horror stories about the countryside - but the one exception to that is the ocean.

It's one thing to know that you live on an island, to know that Japan is surrounded by water: the Sea of Okhotsk, the Sea of Japan, the East China Sea, and the crown jewel, the Pacific Ocean. But picturing it is something you've never managed to do. Sure, you've seen pictures of the ocean before - but where does it end? What must it feel like, to be faced with that much raw power? To gaze out at that endless expanse of blue, and see no end in sight?

[itspileofgoodthings]

like. Nina listens to Taylor, moderately keeps up with the front-facing aspects of her life, enjoys her quality, has her minor critiques, recognizes her place in the current culture, can set her down and do other things when she wants to, and most importantly knows who Taylor is through her art.

[astralmarionette]

im currently writing an atsugawa (I hate the name shin soukoku or whatever I'm sorry but I'm actually not. also I cannot pronounce soukoku {this is the real reason I don't use soukoku}) and I don't even ship it lmaoo