#im so tired of living under someone elses roof

[bvlletproof-heart]

Getting increasingly frustrated that the hot water here stays hot long enough for me to literally only wash my hair and the rest of the shower turns cold.

Things I do not miss about living with my mom are that and the plumbing situation. And the clutter. Oh my god I fucking hate clutter.

[anonbinaryweirdo]

"try not to cry when im gone" hu tao x reader

(angst, hurt/comfort? she still dies tho lol), reader having bad thoughts, sloppy transition, hu tao comforts reader, reader cries, one or two mentions of zhongli

gn reader, unspecified pronouns or descriptions for reader. writer cried

imagine an immortal reader, who knows of their fate with Hu Tao, but has yet to accept it with a full mind

or at all, really.

you sit there, teacup heavy in your hand as you stare at the fire ahead. once again were you reminded of your immortality, but your mind could only immediately drift off to your lover, who was the opposite.

a human. a mortal.

she was bound to die, and you would have to live on, without her, one day. it was inevitable. you wouldn't even know when you'd see her new face again, decades—maybe even centuries later. you probably wouldn't even get the chance to meet her in her new life.

you sigh, just thinking about it. setting down your cup and running a hand down your face, you hold your breath. maybe this was a dream. you'd wake up one day, with identical grey hairs, wrinkles all over. maybe you could be buried next to one another.

alas, you were so lost in thought, you didn't even notice the extra presence in the room, until you felt a pair of hands covering your eyes, the metal of the rings she adorned just barely grazing your skin—yet, you could still feel how cool it was.

"guess who~!" came a giggle from behind. you could never get enough of hearing it, a smile making its way onto your face almost immediately as it rang through your ears.

you couldn't help laughing a little, rolling your eyes behind her palms. "welcome home, Hu Tao," you greet, as normal. it was genuine, the way you felt around her. especially whenever you got to welcome her back under the roof you shared. a place you both cared for, and could call your home. although, you were quite certain that home was only really found whenever you were with Hu Tao. without her to live there with you, it'd merely be a house. not a home.

Hu Tao skips over in front of where you sat, a small grin on her face. you could tell she was a bit tired, though. yet, her lips were still quirked up, despite the fact. you loved it. "were ya missing me already, butterfly?" she asked, looking over you. "because, i must say, you looked mighty bored and lonely before I snuck up on you."

and, as though it were an automated response, you respond quickly, "I'm always bored and lonely whenever you're gone." and it was true, as 'sappy' as it sounded. you needed someone like Hu Tao in your everyday life to lift you up, even when you weren't particularly feeling 'blue'.

"well," the director hummed, helping herself to straddling over your lap, wrapping her arms around you as she rested her chin on your shoulder. your hand moves to take off her hat, setting it aside before moving your fingers through her hair. she closed her eyes, melting—ironically enough—into your touches. "I can't blame you," she continued, chuckling a little, "I mean, without me, you'd be miserable. oh, what would you do without me?" you knew it was a joke, but still.

it was true.

your hand paused in her hair, and your expression slowly fell to what it was before she walked through that door. can you imagine, having to life without her? having to live, what you could only hope wasn't for the rest of your life—from the time your eyes flutter open at the crack of dawn, and when they close into peace once more when moonlight illuminates the land—without her?

you couldn't even begin to imagine what life would be like, if you hadn't seen her smile everyday. true, yes, her smile wouldn't be there every second of the day... no, she had her days when she felt so little about herself, and that smile turned upside down into something else. there were even times her eyeliner would smudge down her face in streaks. but, she still managed to smile. seeing her face was enough.

unfortunately, for you, the girl happened to take notice of your silence, and looked back at you with big red eyes, mixing with both curiosity and concern—even as she tried to play it off. "hey, now, " she laughed lightly. "why the long face? you look like a little puppy, hehe. am I boring you, or something? I don't think I've ever seen you so—"

her voice died down as she saw the way your eyebrows scrunched up, her eyes looking over your face. she saw how sad your eyes look—and how they weren't as bright as she loved them. the way you stared down at your lap, biting the inside your lip. you were deep in your thoughts, and they didn't seem to be happy ones. she didn't like that.

"...hey," she spoke quietly. she cupped your face, making you look at her. and, instantly, you were lost in those eyes.

who wouldn't get lost in them, honestly? they were so pretty, so very magnificent in so many ways you couldn't even begin to explain. and those stars...those stars were the cherry on top. they shined so bright, brighter than any real star could ever. but...eventually, even stars come to their ends, right?

"butterfly...whats the matter? why do you seem so blue?"

she was so sweet. you couldn't help it,arms caging around her in a desperate hug. you were certain, that, letting go would result in her not being there anymore. like she'd turn into particles, and fly out the window. you didn't want that. you couldn't have it.

"[name], what—" "im not ready for you to die."

the words flew past your lips before you could stop them. you squeezed your eyes shut as you nuzzled your nose further into her hair. you inhale deeply, the breath coming out in a shaky sigh. as much as you felt like wanting to, you couldn't cry. especially not here, in front of her, right now. you wouldn't dare let her see you so weak. so—

"is that what this was about?" Hu Tao inquired suddenly, making you hold your breath. your answer—the silence and a tremble of your shoulder—was enough said.

her arms wrapped around you, and it was enough for you to breathe. "don't cry," she hushes you, tenderly rubbing her palm up and down your back. "I don't want you to be sad when I'm dead. in fact, I want you to be happy."

your eyebrows furrow, and you lift your head, looking up at her. "what?" you question, not believing what she just said. "how can you...how can you even say that with a straight face? if I lose you, t-then—"

"then you'll be okay," she cuts you off, kissing your forehead. she leaned back. and smiled. "you'll be fine when I'm gone, because I know you'll be at peace with knowing that I'm resting well, knowing that it was I that you created memories with, and not anyone else in either of our places."

you sat there, listening to her voice. it always was so lovely, wasn't it?

"I'm going to be watching over you as a ghost," she promised, "and once you feel that familiar air, you'll know it's me."

"you should also be at peace, knowing that I'm resting well...because of you. you were the reason for my true happiness, and for that, I..." Hu Tao huffed, taking your hands in hers. "I should be the one crying over my death. I mean, I won't even get to interact with you—I'll be transparent! which is absolutely awful, I mean, can you imagine me going a day without your arms around moi? really."

she smiled as you managed a little laugh at her attempt to brighten the mood. "there it is!" she cheered, softly. "see? that's exactly how I want your face to look, during my final breath, and every moment after, okay?"

you sniffled, leaning into her palm as she strokes your cheek with her thumb, wiping away your tears. "no promises," you whisper, turning your head to kiss her palm. she groans, "well, at least try. what type of person would you be to not at least make an effort to live up to something?"

you shake your head, rolling your eyes. your hands find their way to her waist, and you lean up, capturing her lips. she returned your kiss, not backing away until you do. and that's not until you hear a small pattern of quiet thuds on the window, catching both of your attention.

"hm," she hummed, "it's raining pretty hard." Hu Tao chuckled, holding you close, "I'm glad I got home in time, or else I'd be drenched."

"yeah.." you agree.

you sigh, staring at the ground. "I'm the one getting drenched," you mutter under your breath. you could vividly recall that conversation. it was one of the good ones.

you feel a hand on your shoulder, but you don't turn to look. "I'm sorry," says the consultant of the wangsheng funeral parlor, sympathizing with you.

you don't answer immediately, but he can make out a quiet 'thank you' as he leaves to give you your space, allowing you to stare at the stone in peace.

you look up, closing your eyes as the rain falls down on your face. "I wonder if you can see me yet," you whisper.

a smile graces your lips, feeling a gust of wind push past you.

you chuckle dryly, tears getting mixed in with the rain. another gust of wind.

"..i tried, didn't I?"

and then another.

Oliver is a little bitch tell me why I cried

[enderwoah]

ORIGINS SMP HEADCANONS (because i love them): SEASON TWO EDITION BAYBEEE

(this is really long ENJOY :gun:)

tommy

he is phil's son smile

phil's most recent son at least

he's got like one more somewhere

he picked this one up off the dangerous streets a few years ago and he's been sticking with phil ever since

his wings are small- not too small to fly, but they're untrained to the point where it would take a lot or work to get him off the ground

but at first, he didn't really seem to want to learn all that much?

(he has three scars on his face- all from trying to learn how to fly when he was younger)

(he gave up after the third one)

("if at first you don't succeed; try, try again" is his motto, and he tried all three times)

but!! phil and wilbur are very persuasive :) and now that he knows he can fly, he's not going to rest until he does

he's a little manipulative to get what he wants sometimes, but can you blame someone that lived on the street for so long?

he had to do that to survive! it's not his fault.

(it's a great excuse.)

he laughs like a kookaburra amen

he squawks when he gets scared

he chirps. he tries not to because it makes phil go absolutely bird-brained but he does sometimes and he hates it.

tubbo

NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A B[GUNSHOTS]

god he is. so fucking annoying (/rp)

he simply does not know when to stop

he ignores social cues to see when someone is annoyed

(see: he can read social cues. he does read social cues. when you get annoyed that's when he starts being more annoying, because you're more likely to give him what he wants to get him to shut the fuck up.)

he loves talking to (at) people, especially people he doesn't really know that well

so he's trying to be friends with ranboo, but the absolute prick keeps trying to avoid any actual conversations, so that's not working

he buzzes when he gets excited-happy

his fingertips are completely blackened and horrendously sharp, functioning as ten individual stingers

they don't do any actual damage but he's working on that

techno

wither hybrid (??)

how can you be a wither hybrid?? nobody got down and dirty with the wither

he's an experiment

the reason we haven't seen him yet? he's staying away from the main area of the smp

he doesn't want to ruin its natural beauty with his withering effect, so he keeps to himself on the outskirts of the smp

which sucks

withers get health from killing things

he's not fully a wither, so he gets energy from being around people and sort of draining their life force a little bit

he feels terrible when he's with just one person because they are Literally his life support and it makes the person feel like shit

when he's with a big group of people its great!! he only has to take a little bit from everyone and its barely noticable!!

but then there's the wither part. so he has to stay away.

he's always tired

always exhausted

he's a farmer, so taking it from animals works, but god does he miss people

but he can only visit a few times and for very short

(he's afraid that one of these days he'll get so bad that the next time he sees someone he'll accidentally kill them)

(it already happened once. he's blessed that he's been forgiven, even made friends with by the victims, but he doubts he'll be able to pull that off again with no consequences like last time)

wilbur

phantlings are dead elytrians, and given that wilbur was phil's son...he's a phantling

he died in the late 50s and was a librarian when he was alive, so he's very possessive (ha) over all of his things

you should never ask to "borrow" anything from him, he will hound you about it until you give it back

it's best to just say that you want something from him to keep

even if youre going to give it back

just for your own peace of mind

phantlings can feel fear and get a genuine feeling of elation from scaring people

of course, sometimes its unwelcome (feeling large amounts of fear from someone they care about in a bad way just makes them pissed)

but for the most part, wilbur loves appearing in the corner of people's visions just to jumpscare them a few minutes later

all in good fun, of course!! it's just hilarious :)

being the lighthearted, fun guy he is, he's not particularly secretive about his method of death

"how did i die? well, it all started -- ended -- on november 16th, 1958!"

"i walked out of the library late, since i took the shift for my wife since she was feeling sick and i worked there anyways,"

"the streets were dark and only lit up by gaslamps...and out of an alley...appeared..........."

techno.

he didn't mean it. wilbur isn't at all mad at him (anymore)

he was starving. he didn't know that one touch would be enough to fully revitalize him...

and murder wilbur where he stood.

sneeg

has details on everyone on the server

you Cannot Hide Shit From Sneeg

its impossible

if you find of his any shittly little mouse holes then you're doomed

you find one and there are twenty more

he's under your floorboards while you're having your important discussion about trapping the nether roof

sucks to suck ig??

he seems to be the favourite of many, which is weird since he rarely goes out of his way to actually talk to many people

he's the only person that tubbo doesn't actively try to annoy (or maybe he just doesn't find tubbo's antics all that annoying)

he's the only person that ranboo stays around (or maybe he stays around ranboo- he and Phil seem to be the only ones not off-put by his slightly sadistic and whiny demeanour (not counting tubbo, who annoys him anyways)

phil seems to be more protective of him than he thinks is normal (he lets sneeg ride on his shoulder while travelling, so he doesn't really complain)

niki is completely protective over him (again, not complaining)

contrary to popular believe, he does not get high from sugar

if anything he gets

high-per

(get it)

(high-per)

(hyper)

he's literally just a nine-year old getting a sugar rush leave him alone

phil

take the normal "bird-brain" headcanons and multiply it by like sixty-four

and you've got origins phil

he can't see glass- or, rather, he can, but it doesn't register that 'hey, this is a solid surface i am going to slam into'

its very funny for everyone else but he's pretty sure he has permanent brain damage from the blunt force trauma

if there is ANYONE on the server who dares to chirp, bird or no, they must understand that they are signing away their privacy and giving phil the right to go absolutely bonkers over them momma bird style

(shoutout to tommy, wilbur, ranboo, and fundy for having to suffer through this)

"oh??? you don't have wings?? you don't have feathers?? omg?? then what's this im preening?? what do you mean im just braiding your hair?? nono this is preening smile"

god help you if you dare to have wings

poor tommy, wilbur, sneeg, and tubbo

phil can't help himself alright

do you think he wants to be any sort of protective over sneegsnag?

no!! but he cant stop himself!! sneeg might damage his wings if he keeps flying those super long distances!!! nnnno! carry the bug man!!!

it's weird, he's always had that protective sense over ranboo, too

but ranboo very obviously doesn't have wings, so he doesn't get it...

ranboo

yes ur a peasant

yes ur poor

yes im cooler than u

what r u gonna do about it

the enderdragon's son! partially a dragon, partially enderman, partially human (don't ask, his other mom is a hybrid), all spoiled brat!

given that he has a ton of dragon genes, he's extremely possessive over his stuff and Yes He Does Do The Hoarding Thing

he has a pile of rings and gold chains and necklaces and most of his jewellery hidden underneath his bed

(if you ask him, no, he doesn't)

not to wear

just to Have

one time, fundy stole one (1) bracelet from the hoard and ranboo was sent into a panic for a good 24 hours

he wouldn't leave his cave and kept counting and recounting as if that'd make the missing piece reappear

(when fundy had to give it back because of the guilt, he expected to get his face bitten off)

(instead, he just watched as the prince was flooded with relief, telling him to get the hell out and nothing more)

it's weird, he has so much gold and even a crown, and yet here he is

living with all those people ^^^

truth be told, the enderdragon isn't a very nice dragon

nor is she a very kind queen

nor was the other queen

nor was her son

there was a mutiny in the end, leading to the dragon queen and her wife being killed brutally by the crowd of angered people

they went after their son next, who had ordered executions and worked servants to the bone just as much as they had

they cut off his wings in the middle of the square

he was sure he was going to die until a random person (a peasant) jumped up and yelled at them for publicly torturing a child

but ranboo didn't really catch all of it, given he was delirious from pain

he got to get some stuff quickly and escape with his life

this wasn't too long ago, either, so he's still trying to...adjust...to people talking rudely to him

(he's also trying to adjust to not having wings)

(hence why he hurls himself off the edges of cliffs and then has to teleport to the bottom instead of glide. he keeps forgetting.)

[tteokdoroki]

Congrats on 3k babe!!✨👏🏽🥳

(I love your work!! Chef’s kissing bby🥺🤧)

Can I request prompt #’s 9 and 3 where katsuki has the hanahaki and readers with Shinso? ( angst with happy ending and smut )

katsuki bakugou x reader. ( no pronouns are given but female anatomy described. ).

tteokdoroki teaparty event masterpost!!

♡ prompt #3 + #9  —  “if you leave then..”  + reader or the character of choice has hanahaki disease.

♡ genre: mdni 18+. fwb!au, hanahaki disease!au, smut, angst.

♡ word count: 1.2K

♡ warnings: major character death, mentions of cheating, unprotected sex, mentions of blood. 

♡ author’s notes: thank you for all your support and  for requestiing my lovely !! ALSO I COULDNT WRITE A HAPPY ENDING IM SO SORRY

“k-katsuki—!”

the blonde beneath you sinks his teeth into your neck, he knows that you’d hate him for it in the morning, but he can’t help the feral desire inside of him to mark you up and claim you as though you’re his. bakugou starts to wonder if your pleasure blossoms from pain, from the way he leaves a bruising grip against your hips as his cock caresses your soaked walls to the feeling of your very own nails scratching down his freckled back. do you like being in pain? do you like causing him pain more? deep down he knows that you can’t be to blame for his condition, the burning spread of a deadly rose’s root throughout his body… the petals hidden away in his top left drawer nor the thorns hat litter his blood stream. you couldn’t be to blame, it wasn’t your fault that he had caught feelings, that he had caught the love disease. hanahaki.

“suki, ‘m gonna cum...don’t stop, please cum with me,” you sign, hand pushing through hair to bring him down in order to meet your lips. another set of dreaded red roses, the colour of his eyes and his blood that coats them, branch out against his lungs as you look up at him with pure bliss— your face twists with a euphoria that only he can give you and can often be mistaken with that of love. bakugou wonders if you’ve ever loved him, or if you’ve only ever been in love with how he fucks you. your legs up high and over his broad shoulders, heavy balls slapping against the curve of your ass every time he sinks deep into your tight cunt.

it’s nice to toy with the idea that you’re in love with him, but it doesn’t stop the flowers that slowly kill him from the inside out. it doesn’t help that you belong to someone else. “y-yeah? you gonna cum like a little bitch on my cock...oh baby, only if you tell daddy please,” katsuki mocks through laboured breathing, flame igniting in his lower belly at the sight of your sweet tears. he can’t tell if he’s panting because of how hot you look and now close you both are to cumming or because of how close the flowers bring him to death. “you like bein’ talked down on, don’cha bitch? can’t tell by the way your sweet cunny clamps down on me. who do you belong to?”

you can barely speak, orgasm right on the horizon. “y-you, belong to you!” comes your unhinged squeal as your hands grope at any of bakugou’s flesh available to you.

it’s not enough for him, however, bakugou’s warm and calloused hand reaching up to tug at your lower lip— opening up your mouth for him to spit into. “say ,y fuckin’ name, bitch. say it when you cum for your man.” he snarls from deep within his chest, forcing his hips to thrust into you at a new angle. the squealching sound of your sexes sends shivers down his spine as his gaze falls to where your bodies join and you become one with each other. fuck, he was close.

“‘m yours katsuki! ohmyfuckinggod, i’m all yours!”

you earn a few swipes your sticky and puffy clit, the attention sending you on a cliff dive right over the edge. you clamp down hard on bakugou, squeezing him for all of his worth until his relentless pace stutters and his cock paints your insides with the shade of white. the blonde drops his head to your neck as your body twitches with the aftershocks of your own release, the nectar dripping from your cunt and slicking up the latter’s cock. he wishes that you could lay here little longer, wrapped up in the sweet post orgasm bliss, but there’s a familiar pang in his chest and churn to his stomach when katsuki witnesses you reach for your phone on the nightstand beside him.

the pain of rustling roses returns to bakugou’s lungs when your screen illuminates with messages from him and he pulls from your heat with a hiss, rolling to your side and fixing his gaze on the ceiling. “yn, we can’t keep doing this.” vermillion eyes shut away the world as he waits for your response, listening to the rustling of clothes as you get yourself together and ready to leave.

“doing what, katsuki?” there’s an air of innocence to your tone, as if you hadn’t uttered his very name with an unrelenting neediness for the last hour or so.

this time, bakugou sits up— mindful of the thorns and petals that line the cavity in his chest. as the sheets fall away, he uses a strong arm to wrap around your waist— pulling you into him as if you’ll stay. the sweater you now where, the one that belongs to shinsou and the one that caused this night of passion, itches at his skin, but katsuki ignores it. “i can’t keep fucking you like we mean something, only for you to fuck off back to the asshole who doesn’t treat you right.” he was tired of the sneaking around, the false happiness you had created with him under this very roof. bakugou wanted more than to be your fuck buddy and go to when your boyfriend wasn’t enough.

you shake your head and laugh bitterly, tilting your head to the side to press a kiss to katsuki’s unsuspecting lips. the petals in his lungs rumble. “i love him, you know. he may be crappy at times but i can’t leave him. can’t hurt him. that’s why we do the things we do, sneak around like we do. i promised to never break his heart.”

“but you’re breaking mine,” katsuki practically pleads against your lips, his own are wet from tears he hadn’t realised were falling. he doesn’t know if they’re because he’s in pain or because he can feel you slipping away. “i’m in love with you, yn.”

panic rises with bile and blossoms in katsuki’s chest as you pull away from him harshly, lacing up your boots and grabbing your bag from the floor. “no one ever told you to catch feelings, bakugou. we are, were, fuck buddies win a now strings attached agreemnent. i’m not responsible for that.” you gesture to the way that he crumbles as you walk towards the door.

“yn, if you leave then, we won’t ever talk again. it’ll be all over.” bakugou knows it’s wrong to give you an ultimatum, he can see that from the way your eyes glaze over with tears. but he’s dying, rosebuds choking him from the inside out and clawing their way up his throat. he needs you to live or he’d die without you.

you turn, shaky fingers encapsulating the doorknob as you hold back your own tears. “whatever it takes to get it through your head, that i. don’t. love. you.”

you leave, and bakugou succumbs to the thorns in his lungs.

that night, the world shatters. katsuki bakugou dies alone in a bed of roses he’d breathed for you, petals as red as his eyes that you’d once loved so much. when his death reaches you, shinsou squeezes your shoulders and reminds you of how lucky you both are to be loved by each other. but you can only nod solemnly and pray he doesn’t find the orange rose petals you’ve hidden under your shared bed.

[chryuhwan]

helloooo i’m sol (21+, they/them) and this is yuhwan. he’s an old oc revamped too many times so if he seems familiar... my b dude i’m attached i guess. anyway, i’m excited to be here! please like this post if you’re interested in plotting and i’ll hit you up. i’m not on twitter and pretty sparse on discord, so i prefer tumblr im! but if that’s difficult for you, we can figure smth out! i have a short (haha) tl;dr under the cut, but you can also read up more on his BIO and PROFILE pages.

RUNDOWN

TRIGGER & CONTENT WARNINGS: physical abuse, underage drug/alcohol consumption, (attempted) suicide (lmk if you want a redacted summary!) 

BASICS — born and raised in busan up until the tender age of seventeen, when he was sent (“exiled”) to seoul to live with his aunt and uncle and attend hannam. the catalyst was a rebellious phase turned lifestyle (a lot of really reckless decisions involving drugs, alcohol, vandalism, swiping money from the tithes & offerings, u name it) and his parents deciding they a) didn’t want to deal with that and b) didn’t want that to reflect on their reputations. he’s been in seoul ever since and has never stayed in busan for longer than a couple of days.

ON RELIGION & FAITH — the only son of the head pastor of a well-known megachurch in busan, yuhwan was raised under the strict and watchful eye of his obsessive parents! he’s not religious anymore by any means, but faith (or his lack thereof) has shaped a huge part of his mentality. his lack of belief in a higher power is the foundation of his ‘if i have the confidence to own up to the potential consequences of my actions, then i’ll do whatever i want to’ mindset. he’s not going to be discouraged by a god that doesn’t exist! 

ON SEOUL — hates it. yep. he hates seoul, but he doesn’t really have the drive to try to find somewhere he does like because he hates busan too. when he was sent to live with his aunt and uncle, he was treated pretty poorly (still flinches when people raise their hand at him), like a glorified punching bag. hannam wasn’t any better, and the military was nice in the way prison cells might be. he hates cramped things and the only decent jogging path he knows runs him right by the bridge he almost jumped off of after his military service ended so. you know. you win some, you lose some. 

ON HANNAM — hated it. yep. straight up hated it. he was pretty good about being friendly around virtually anyone who held his attention for more than a couple of seconds, but yuhwan hates the idea of hierarchies! finds them downright stifling, and he doesn’t like the idea of being placed in a box, etc. hannam felt like an oppressive social pyramid and he thought that kinda sucked so as friendly as he was on the outside, he had zero interest in making friends and has probably only willingly kept in touch with a handful of people since graduating. 

ON GOSSIPS, RUMORS, AND SECRETS — he’s a tabloid writer. once a regular editor for a small newspaper, he gave that up and decided to sacrifice his morals for a higher paycheck. he blames his mom because she, as the pastor’s wife, had a lot of access to juicy gossip and liked to tell yuhwan about it. yuhwan’s probably the least trustworthy person he knows. he’s careful to keep the secrets of people he cares about, but as it turns out, he doesn’t really care about that many people. he’s friendly, open to listening, and honestly not that bad at giving advice etc., but be on your guard. wouldn’t want your dirty laundry to be aired out for the world to see, after all. 

ON THE PRESENT — he’s minding his own business. really. like i said, he’s probably kept in touch with some people, but otherwise he’s not really interested in the busy lives of almost-strangers unless they’re going to get him a bonus on his next paycheck. yuhwan very much so marches to the beat of his own drum. he doesn’t care much about the world around him and only cares when it inconveniences him. like a kite without a string, he’s floating wherever the fuck the wind’s going to take him!

ON HIS SECRET — after graduating from high school, and then university, and then finishing military service, yuhwan thought he might literally lose his fucking mind if he didn’t set himself free in one way or another. ultimately, he decides he won’t be able to coexist in peace with his parents unless they change. and because they won’t change of their own volition, he submits an anonymous tip about his father’s embezzlement of church funds. in the end, it doesn’t destroy his dad’s legacy or anything; the church is still up and running—but it’s an ordeal that takes months, years of being humbled by the weight of the world. he doesn’t feel bad about it. his mom gossips less and his dad’s less of an asshole, after all. makes family gatherings that much more bearable when they’re all tired of existing!

CONNECTIONS

BEST FRIEND — just one. no dramatic childhood friends story or anything like that. just one person he actually really genuinely sincereeeeeely liked from hannam that didn’t take any effort or slow build to figure out. probably the only person he really trusts in this big, bad city. you’ve got a huge weapon in your hands! he’s not used to putting this much trust in others. (+1000 if in a two-day relationship that ended terribly. ‘i would never date you again, but i’ll still die for u’ kinda vibes) 

HANNAM FRIENDS — there won’t be many, but! anyone? anyone?? he was a friendly, easygoing person (still is, tbh) during his hannam days, but was definitely a free spirit who did whatever he wanted. if you could keep up with his pace, then he might have liked your company. he’s not a fan of overly serious people unless they have the patience of a saint! (trust me, you’ll need it.) 

HANNAM... NOT FRIENDS — he’s not so conscious of his surroundings as to have enemies himself, but he definitely did get pushed around for a little while when he was first getting settled. and he’s also definitely spoken out of turn and said some rude shit (not on purpose) (he just doesn’t have a filter) here and there. want to hate his guts? please do. negative energy’s welcome in this house!

COUSIN — a similar-aged cousin, also the child of the aunt and uncle yuhwan absolutely fucking abhors. they might have a contentious relationship. might even be a positive one. either way, they lived under the same roof for a few years! 

TABLOID VICTIM — got a little fame to your name? have a nasty scandal you didn’t want to get out? well, now it’s out. and sensationalized, too! maybe you know it’s him who leaked it (and wrote the article, while we’re at it). maybe you don’t! 

BUSAN BUDDIES — and i use the word ‘buddies’ loosely. grow up in busan? have religious parents? religious yourself maybe? well, maybe you bumped into each other then. yuhwan had the reputation of being a prim and proper pastor’s son, amiable and cheerful and so so devoted, up until he was suddenly sent to seoul. all of his bad habits and reckless adventures were largely done behind his parents’ backs (until he got caught, at least!)—you know of them? partake in them, maybe? or maybe you didn’t know, and you’re wondering why the fuck he came to seoul in the first place

BLACKMAIL — he’s not above using underhanded tactics if they’re made available to him. sometimes he doesn’t even need a big reason. maybe he found out a secret of yours and he wants a secret you know about someone else. he’ll hold it over your head! call it a little game of cat and mouse!

[fatgummybear]

Hii idk if you’ve watched your name and listened to nandemonaiya but could I get j a really soft bakugou x reader where it’s like they’re in a moment that’s super loving on the rooftop and yea just listening to that song makes me feel that way :)) thank youuu

Nandemonaiya- A Bakugou x reader drabble/fic

im so sorry this is so late, i feel like i’ve had a million and one things to do and life got on top of me for a minute there! I’m still yet to watch Your Name, though i did listen to the song and wOW IM SOFT T-T it reminded me of watching a sunrise being all cozy in the fresh air with pretty flowers and im going to shut up and actually write this now:D It’s a bit dingy and dark at the beginning i do apologise, but the fluff comes in>.< 

wordcount: 1253

genderneutral language for reader and quirk unspecified:)! Oh- warning for language, we are talking about Bakugou here!          (◠﹏◠✿)

Everyone has a different definition of perfect, some may not even believe in perfection, but this morning could change the mind of the non-believer. Soft sighs, white breaths and warm bodies sat under a periwinkle sky and cotton candy clouds. It was an early summer morning, around 5:30am. That doesn’t explain how you got here though, so let me start from the beginning.

Training had been rough, though there had yet to be a major incident in your second year. That didn’t change the fact that you were exhausted. Everyone was. Self defense and emergency procedure training had been increased tenfold since the many events of year 1. The physical and mental stress of lessons on top of homework and never ending nightmares had... less than pleasant side effects, insomnia being one of them. Nights where you couldn’t get to sleep became more frequent, nights where you could actually sleep were short lived; ended with you waking up in the very first hours of the morning, even beating the early bird by a good couple of hours. Tonight had been one of those nights, sleep disturbed by your own restless thoughts, tossing and turning to the point where the four surrounding walls seemed to mock you and your effort to sleep. The rain that had been pouring overhead steadily came to a halt. Turning once more to face your nightstand, you checked the clock. 3:48am. Exhaling something between a sigh and an annoyed huff, you threw the sheets to the foot of the bed and sat upright, trailing your hands down your face and neck in a new quest to at least feel more awake if you couldn’t shut your eyes.

A shower was out of the question at this time of day, you at least knew that. While the chances of others being awake too were unfortunately high, there was no sense to be made in ruining someone else’s sleep to benefit yourself for a measly half hour. The sink would have to make do. Dragging yourself out of bed and down the hall you quickly reached the bathroom and threw water over your eyes, somehow colder than usual from not being in use and the night air’s influence over the pipes. Standing in front of the mirror, now somewhat more alert, you assessed your current situation and what you could do to pass some time. It was now 4:02, a dark Saturday morning which was arguably better than a weekday. There were no commitments today, no classes, no homework that couldn’t be done tomorrow, no rules saying you couldn’t nap through the afternoon when you finally tire yourself out. However, there wasn’t much to do inside at this time of day, and you weren’t about to knock on doors to see how many were suffering the same fate as you. It wasn’t all bad, though. Your boyfriend, Bakugou would be up within the next hour or two to go on his morning run through campus, always claiming how it would make him better than “shitty Deku” if he got out earlier than him. 

While walking back to your room, you decided to instead take the ‘secret passageway’ up onto the roof of the dorms that you and the ‘Bakusquad’ had stumbled across one night. It was really just a service entrance, holding a small cleaners room next to the stairs, but no one else had braved opening the unknown door, so why ruin the magic for you and your friends, that was where you all frequently hung out when the weather allowed it, sharing silly stories filled with laughter and plotting your next mischievous pranks. The rain was long gone you realised after opening the door, though the scent still lingered and the silence almost created a gentle hum in your ears, coaxing you to walk out further and sit on the still damp concrete. The time was now unknown, having left your phone in your room and the obvious lack of clocks occupying the rooftop. It couldn’t be too far off sunrise, though, as the sky had started to change colour from a blinding darkness into the soft pinks and yellows that came with dawn.

The next hour or so went by fairly quietly, the sounds of the surrounding wildlife adding to the peace. It was still relatively early for people to be up and about, especially for a Saturday morning. You were expecting to hear the teachers get up soon though, to conduct their daily patrols around campus and make sure their home class are all present and okay. However, what you weren’t expecting was to hear the gentle click of a door beneath you opening and the soft tapping of shoes on the concrete stairs. Startled, you turned, expecting a lecture off of Aizawa-sensei or a cleaner for lurking where you shouldn’t be, and at such an early hour too. Braving yourself to look up, you found yourself looking into familiar crimson eyes instead.

“Tch, figures you’d be up here at a time like this”.

You could only stare up at him, shocked at the amount of time that had clearly passed. Katsuki was up and ready for the day. He still had messy hair, but he was in a loose pair of sweats and a fitted shirt, clearly ready to go for his routine jog. 

“You just gonna sit and stare? Get your loopy ass in before you catch a cold, or has sitting on the wet floor for god knows how long already got to you?”

“Nah, ‘m comfy”

This sent Katsuki into some state of confusion, staring at you as if you had grown a second head. How on earth could you be comfy on the wet floor at this time in only a pair of pyjamas? Wordlessly, he sunk down to a crouch before looking you in the eyes, rolling his and plopping down next to you. 

“If I get sick it’s on you, now get comfier. I’m not sparring you on Monday if your stupid ass can’t get enough sleep to even talk properly”. 

You smiled while tucking your head into his clavicle, knowing he was just trying to keep up his bad-boy image. Yes, he was a lot softer around you, being able to rest yourself on him like this was enough to show that, but Bakugou was Bakugou and he would always have some roughness to him. You knew it was highly unlikely for him to actually get sick just from sitting on the damp concrete, his body temperature ran way too high for that. 

This is how the two of you stayed for the next half hour or so, curled together on the rooftop hiding from the world, silently watching the sky turn from light pink to a pale yellow before erupting in fiery oranges and then watching an ocean of tranquil blues dull the embers as the sun rose higher. You were expecting to get tired at some point, possibly going to rest in Katsuki’s bed when he decided to actually go for his run, though you felt the ropes of sleep pull your eyelids shut right there on top of the roof of the 1A dorms. Katsuki looked down and couldn’t manage to stop himself from smiling at you dozing off under his chin. 

A soft “I love you, firecracker” rumbled from his throat. “Hm, what was that?” you replied in a sleepy haze, eyes glossed over as you snuggled further into his chest.

“Don’t worry about it”

[morgannwilsonnn]

Chapters

I would be lying if i said i wasn't scared to start college in 12 day's. Even typing it makes me anxious, i don't think i have ever seen my own true potential in anything i have ever done. my doubt's and my fear's of what if have always held me back in some way and what is embarrassing is the fact that i have allowed it to become so normal that it has taken so much from me, it has degraded me made me feel like i wasn't worthy or smart enough or even capable.

See i didn't even finish highschool i got my GED after having my daughter at 16, i was the athlete everyone thought would make it but it was a shocker to them after that no one believed in me and i had a fire under my ass to prove them wrong even with a GED but then i dropped out of college and life happened i needed a job and a roof and from there i just got comfortable in what i did but even then it didn't feel like i was where i was meant to be. sitting behind a desk forever living life just enough to get by but never enough to do the things i wanted with my daughter. I looked for new job's with no luck and it made me feel even worse not good enough i felt stuck but i kept trying and even praying that this life wasn't what was meant for the rest of my life i somehow had to get out of the cycle and beat the statics of a single mom working 9-5 living on state for the rest of her life... then i got fired and lost my car almost lost my home i started busing tables even tho it wasn't nearly enough to pay all my bills i took turn running late on one or the other just to make it. Then i found i new job making 19 a hour but my first two days over whelmed me i didn't understand shit and how could i set myself up for failure i didn't believe in myself so i quit and went back to busing tables got pregnant had health issues and became a stay at home mom for going on two years now.

my life summed up over the last four years of my life.

being a stay at home mom has taught me alot about myself tho mainly that it is not easy and you fall into dark cracks sometimes so dark you're scared that you'll never resurface the cries become tuned out you forget that outside is even a place you cant help but cry as you wash dishes with no thoughts other then just feeling sad. you wonder if your kids would be better off without you because you feel guilty for being so comfortable with the feeling of frustration. but then you resurface and come back and say you wont go back but its like someone with a drug or alcoholic addiction you are bound to relapse back and it only gets worse but you hide it better each time you cry in the shower or when the kids are napping you sit up restless because your mind races. you start to feel like you have nothing to offer you completely forget your worth and what you can do your potential.

BUT everytime i tried to find a solution maybe i needed to set a goal to go out once a month or sit alone for a hour every day go to the gym go on a walk go shopping go to counseling and some how i still kept falling in between the cracks deeper and deeper.. i lost hope i wallowed that this was my life that i would never have my own life again but i had to love it because i loved my kids..

till one day i woke up and realized this person i have became over the last two years isnt who i have ever been. i am a strong working strong willed self determened women and the only thing that stopped me was me.

i remember sitting there thinking how bad i wish i could buy my own car again after watching tyler buy his the joy in his face made me happy but the sadness i felt because i didn't take a part made me want that happiness 100% to share TOGETHER. i started looking at my credit from when i lost my job it went to shit i use to have a 880 credit. and i thought what the fuck morgan... i told myself i would pay off one of the things as a starter to fixing my credit but once i made the first payment i cant explain how good it felt to know i wouldn't look back wishing i would have paid it then and it put a fire under my ass that i paid off three more things. that alone made me realize how it felt to have my own control over my financial freedom. i started thinking big after that and looking back into school for PTA 2 year schooling i could have finished that by now and been a PTA by the age of 20 instead of dwelling in my could have i realized instead how fast two years goes by so i started investing my free time on how to start college im not gonna lie i almost quit at the starting line but i didn't i started blowing up the schools phone asking questions more then once writing all over my notebook reorganizing it all on a new sheet and finally i would be starting school oct 18th..

but why would i wanna stop there when i could only dream of all these things in life a tahoe for my kids to have a nice car with back ac a nice house so they dont have to share a room anymore paying for sports clothes trips just because wanting to finish paying off the rest of my credit so i can do these things! i asked myself how bad did i really want it and i always knew i wanted it bad but just because you want something bad doesnt mean you get it so i asked myself how bad are you willing to invest in yourself... and that one caught me so i sat back for a few days exploring jobs and nothing fit my schedule so i gave up because not only that child care is 900 a week for one kid.. but then i got a text for a night time job working 6 hours from 6:30 to midnight .. i debated with myself about it because my man works till 5 some days i would never see him and only have sunday monday off but then i told myself invest and sacrifice now so i dont have to when my kids are older so i took it and granted i will be going to school part time 7am to 10am dropping my daughter off at school at 10;45 to pick her up at 2:30 and have time inbetween the time gaps to do her homework and mine as well as study before work at 6 i will be a tired beezy but i know it will be worth it three years from now. if i grind at night pay off my last two things on my credit start saving and graduate college all while showing my kids and man i can do it and i will do it not just for myself but for them because nothing in this life is impossible when you wake up and realize you build your own potential no one else and i for once in my life want to prove to myself how strong i am .

[sweetest-honeybee]

To Hell and Back

Chapter 24

Summary: Wels discovers that the very ruler of HelsCraft is living in his head and things take a turn for the worst.

Characters: Wels, The Lord of Darkness, Doc (impulse, tango, beef, xisuma mentions)

TW: Uhh screaming-ish and brief one sentence mention of broken bones

———————

When Wels woke up, he had control over his body, thankfully. There was a lot of light in the room, however, and it made his head hurt. That, or maybe he ended up hitting his head at some point or got whacked in some way by one of the other Hermits. For good reason, he knew. He wasn’t happy either. In fact, he felt awful for hurting Beef and Tango and probably doing something to Xisuma that made the admin so angrily cautious around him.

He lifted his head slowly and looked around, observing his surroundings. Well, if he was gonna be somewhere random after passing out, he might as well see where he was before the evil voice took him over again. Firstly, he was in an iron chair welded to the floor. Wels was honestly, and weirdly, impressed by that much needed support. Whatever the evil voice was doing while he blacked out, it was strong.

Awe, why let me take the credit, Wels? You did those things, no?

The knight grimaced. Great. He was going to be in here, tied up, with the voice wracking at his head again.

“You’re not me,” he spat. “I don’t try to kill my friends.”

Well now that doesn’t make sense. Were you not the one who bashed your friend’s skull into that door?

“That wasn’t me,” Wels replied coldly. That was until he realized he wasn’t talking to anyone, really. He was merely replying to his own thoughts which just so happened to sound like someone speaking right into his ear. He huffed.

This will be a long day, night, whatever time it was. To distract himself, he looked around the room again. It was small, maybe only 6 or 7 blocks wide, quite tall, and made of obsidian. The block directly under his chair however, was iron. Other than that, not much else than a single iron wall in front of him which he assumed was a piston door. The roof above him were just several blocks of sea lanterns which were harsh on his eyes. He sighed, ducking his head. I’m going to go insane in here if they don’t figure out something soon, I can feel it. He meant no offense to them in his mind, but it certainly wasn’t the best circumstances and it was an accident waiting to happen. He lifted his head again, hoping something new magically appeared or something. The knight already felt uneasy at the thought of being in here alone for such a long time.

Guess that makes more time for us to chat, hm?

“No, it’s not.”

Why’s that?

“Don’t you have better things to do.”

Now, now, Wels, you’re the one chained to a chair.

Wels rolled his eyes. “Because you- whatever you are anyways, keep possessing me. Why me? What did I do to you?”

You’ll find out soon enough. Until then, you’ll be my perfect little soldier.

“No, I won’t.”

Yes, you will succumb to my darkness, little knight.

“Argh! Just shut up! I’m not listening.” He decided now that he wasn’t going to sit and listen to this for hours. Then, he perked up. He could probably block out the thoughts if he spoke loud enough. Or if he sang loud enough. So he did, starting just louder than his thoughts, mostly as a small distraction.

“There once was a ship that put to sea, the name of the ship was the Billy of Tea, the winds blew up, the bow dipped down, o blow my bully boys blow~”

You won’t quiet me that easily. I’m your thoughts, Wels. The very anger and hatred for those pathetic Hermits inside of you.

Wels continued his shanty, just a reply ignoring the voice. “Soon may the Wellerman come, to bring us sugar and tea and rum. One day, when the tonguin’ is done, we'll take our leave and go~!”

Don’t test me, boy. I’ll have you wrapped around my finger.

Wels sang louder, this time focusing as much on the lyrics as he could. “She had not been two weeks from shore, when down on her a right whale bore. The captain called all hands and swore he’d take that whale in tow~!”

But the voice only continued. And so did he, almost practically screaming the lyrics.

“SOON MAY THE WELLERMAN COME, TO BRING US SUGAR AND TEA AND RUM. ONE DAY WHEN THE TONGUIN’ IS DONE, WE’LL TAKE OUR LEAVE AND GO~!”

The knight was startled when the piston door opened. Eyes shooting to the source of the sound.

“Jeez, you’re loud, but nice song though.” The person in question was Doc which Wels gave a breath of relief towards. Though, the creeper looked tired, and if Wels would bet his diamonds on it, he’d guess that Doc was pretty irritable given his annoyed expression to the song anyways. “Why on earth were you singing that loud?”

“There’s an evil voice in my head,” the knight replied bluntly. “I’m trying to get it to shut up.”

Doc hummed, moving to crouch in front of Wels, taking the other’s chin in his robotic hand while the other had a small handheld flashlight. Briefly, he shined the light into his eye which certainly wasn’t comfortable but Doc seemed satisfied with the results. He gingerly took Wels’s hands, examining them. He tapped a finger on Wels’s chin. “Open up.” The knight followed his request and after a second, Doc let him close his mouth. When he stood, the creeper pulled out a clipboard from his inventory.

“How long will I be in here?” Wels decided to ask, hoping his creeper friend was up for some small talk.

“As long as it takes for you to not have to scream sea shanties at four in the morning,” Doc replied without hardly sparing a glance at him. Ah, no wonder he looked so tired and annoyed. He must’ve been woken up when Wels was singing, probably examining him to see if something was out of the ordinary. Well, not unless he was already up.

“Is Beef okay?”

The other nodded. “Yeah, he’s got one hell of a concussion though. Woke up after about fifteen-twenty minutes or so.”

Wels fell silent. At least Beef was fairly okay. Probably very nauseous and has one of the worst possible headaches he’s ever had in his life thanks to Wels, but to some extent, the knight knew that he wouldn’t hold a grudge. A little uncomfortable around him afterwards, but not a grudge. He wasn’t that kind of guy.

Doc doesn’t even care that he’s keeping you trapped here, Wels.

He’s not trapping me, he thought. He’s just protecting his friends.

Protecting them from who, Wels?

The knight must’ve made some kind of noise in reply to the thought. Doc eyed him carefully. “What’s it saying?” the creeper asked. Wels just shook his head.

“Nothing,” he muttered. “At least not anything like earlier.”

“I gotta write down everything. What’s it saying.” He eyed the knight pointedly.

“It’s saying that it’s me, apparently. That you don’t care that you’re trapping me in here. That you’re protecting them from me because I’m a threat to all of you and should just succumb to darkness or whatever.” Wels answered his question almost too casually than he intended but if this was how it was gonna be, he might as well make sure they know everything to ensure the best results.

Doc wrote down everything with another hum, not a very happy hum, it sounded gruff, more like a grunt. The creeper probably wasn’t any happier with that information than Wels was. He stuck the pen to the top of the clipboard. “Well, you are trapped for sure, can’t say much more about that. And you’re a threat, too. I can’t sugarcoat it.” He gave Wels a pat on the shoulder. “But you’re still Welsknight, one of the most strong willed people I’ve ever met. If anyone can beat the very demon inside of them, it’s you.”

Slightly, the corner of Wels’s mouth twitched upwards. “Thanks, Doc. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Good, good. Impulse is on the next shift. If anything happens, call out his name.”

With that, Doc left, the piston door shutting behind him with a loud bang. Wels already missed being able to get up and move around the moment it shut. Technically, in this room, he was safe to do so but it probably came down to what would happen when the piston door opened that made them chain him to the chair. They didn’t even use ropes, he really noticed. He shuffled his wrists and ankles, the metal grinding against the chair. Really, he could sit and admire their handiwork for hours as a distraction but that would only go so far. He huffed. Yeah, he was gonna go insane.

Just gives me room to take over more often.

“And what’re you gonna do when that happens? Cut off my hands and feet?” Wels absentmindedly replied. Might as well give the voice a sassy chat while he had the time. “I can’t punch through obsidian or iron.”

Who said I felt the pain of your fingers breaking?

Wels gulped. Yeah, the voice could just let go of him at any moment while he was lashing out and he’d feel all of the side effects of what he did while he wasn’t in control. He winced when his side stung at the memory of being shot in the cage.

Tango was the one who shot you, you know. Xisuma was the one who punched you. Beef was going to try to strangle you while you were vulnerable. Doc would’ve gladly stabbed you right there and then.

To a couple of those, Wels actually understood. If he were them, he’d attack himself too. Though, he hardly believed that Beef was going to harm him during that moment earlier and Wels gladly emphasized his doubts with a scoff.

“Do you like….have a name or something? Something we can call you that isn’t ‘The Evil Voice’”? He asked instead.

Fine then, you may call me The Lord of Darkness. And you, my dear knight, are my vessel. Though, I can’t say you’ll be the only one.

Wels stuttered. “You- you’re- wait that thing from HelsCraft?!”

You could say that. I influence your world, but soon enough, with your help, you’ll lose everything.

“No, no, no, no, no-“ He shook his head, yelling for his friend, needing them to know what was happening. “Im- IMPULSE. IMPULSE PLEASE COME IN HERE.”

The Lord of Darkness laughed grimly in his head. The edges of his vision was becoming darker, reminding the knight uncomfortably that The Lord of Darkness could simply use him whenever he liked. And now, if it succeeded in getting Wels out of here, The Lord would make him hurt even more of his friends without him knowing and that’s the last thing they all needed right now. Not to mention how The Lord said he wasn’t the only one.

That in itself only made him panic further.

Goodnight, Wels. Let’s see how poor little Impulse holds up.

“No! IMPULSE PLEASE!” He pulled against his chains.

But the tugging stopped when darkness overcame him and with the sound of the piston doors, a scream rang out in the room.

[themariotheme]

let's be happy.

'how did we end up here?'

you look up from where you stood, on the edge of the roof of a building you had no business standing on, looking down, down, down, at the pavement below, only a quick step forward away.

you look up from where you stood, up at your friend. he stood a few strides behind you, chin raised to the sky. his eye bags, from hours of sleepless nights spent editing music, and dancing so much you were sure he was wearing his bones away, now less obvious in the dark of the night. he looked like the human equivalent of comfort, albeit a little rough around the edges. fluffy brown hair, warm clothes, old glasses, gold skin, shoes worn in from the hours of abuse he put them through at the studio. he looked back at the sky, eyes glassy.

'how did we get here, on the roof?' you ask, monotone. 'i dont know how we didn't get caught but im pretty sure we just climbed up here.'

he didnt react to your sarcastic remark, still standing looking at the night sky. perhaps he was waiting for a god to show himself from between the dark clouds of heaven.

'how did we get here, like all of humans, grand scheme of things, how we got here?' you ask again, serious this time, even though your sentence made no sense, grammar wise. he would understand what you meant, he always did, even if you didn’t yourself. 'or how we got here, the two of us, how we got here?'

'both, i guess,' he responded quietly, still gazing up at the sky. you look up too.

you think about how the two of you got here. tonight wasn't a night for existential crisis about how humanity came to be. tonight, the two of you, a little tipsy, maybe a little high, on cool night air, and a finished track, and some weed, shot out of your shared flat, to breathe life back into your lungs. maybe get some food, and completely get sidetracked by a ladder leading to a roof, despite one of the two of you being petrified of heights, and pretty much everything else.

you think about how the two of you got here. a nicotine addicted, broke as fuck music producer, and the most passionate, broken dancer, struggling to make a living and keep that shitty roof over their heads. he was sure they had rats but you paid it no mind. at least you told him you did. because if he minded then they might have to move out make sacrifices. their friendship, their jobs. because where would you be without him? where would he be if he wasn’t making music?

you ignore the faint echoes of ‘dead, probably,’ ringing in your ears.

you stare at him. you'd take a photo of him if you could, it was a good shot. but you hadn't brought your phone and you were no photographer. fluffy hair, hands stuffed into jacket pockets, slightly askew glasses.

you stare at him to get his attention, outstretching your hand to get him to come here.

warily, he stepped forward, gripping your cold hand with his warm one, standing at your shoulder a little bit behind you, unwilling to step up on the ledge and face the fact that the two of you were standing three stories up from the unforgiving concrete ground, the pavement just a quick step forward away.

finally matching your height, he stooped a bit to rest his chin on your shoulder, sighing quietly.

sometimes you wonder how someone who brought so much happiness to everyone around him could be so numb on the inside. how the most generous, loyal, and unabashedly passionate person could be disowned by his father.

you had asked him this once, after a long session of recording, drunk on a bit of wine, and he’d been quiet for a while. you regretted ever asking, but after a moment he just leaned himself further into you and smiled, a little teary eyed. not his usual cheerful smile. a different one. more reserved. a smile that, after that night, you realised he reserved just for you.

you don’t remember clearly what he said but you do remember it was something along the lines of ‘the sun gives light but lives in a shadow, doesn’t it?’, and him stealing a sip from your wine glass.

you remember being quite drunk, but not drunk enough to let that stupid incorrect fact slide.

‘that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever fucking heard, man,’ you said, monotone, a frown creasing up your brow. he laughed. a normal laugh, throwing himself onto you even more. somehow, you knew he was still numb, but you just let yourself fall asleep against his warm hoodie.

you blink your stinging eyes, aware you were holding hands with him, standing on the ledge of  roof at 3 am, the plunge to the road below just a short step ahead of you.

'got a light?' you ask, not moving your gaze from straight ahead, eyes focused on a point a little above the building opposite.

he swaps the left hand holding yours to his right, rummaging in his pocket for a lighter. he drops your hand, lighting a matchstick with a flourish. the flame trembled a bit with his shaking hands, illuminating his face. you roll your eyes, placing the cigarette in your mouth before leaning down and grabbing his hands to light it.

you inhale the smoke, exhaling warmth out to the city. you pass him the cigarette, he takes it.

'you're the only person i know who uses matches instead of a lighter,' you say. he knows this. you've told him this before, multiple times, almost every time you two are on a roof together in the dark of too early mornings, too late nights.

'i know,' he'd say. 'i wanna know how many i smoke.' he says it again, even though you already know.

you sit down on the ledge, legs dangling over the pavement below. you reach up and grab him by the wrist, and he tentatively sits beside you, facing inwards toward the roof rather than out.

you sit like this for a while, smoking in almost silence. until it's almost sunrise.

somehow without a watch, he'd know the time, know when the sun was going to be out. he grabs your hand, pulling you up from your seat.

you make the same joke about him being an alarm clock and he makes the same retort about him being the sun. your sun.

back at ground level, on the pavement right under where you were just standing, smoking, you walk home, shoulders brushing.

'maybe we've run out of things to talk about,' you say. you didn’t mean it, of course. you knew it was just one of those quiet nights, yet a tiny twinge in your chest told you otherwise. that he was about ready to up and leave you to struggle, tired of your breakdowns and of the nights you made him spend in with you, working on your tracks. 'you bored of me yet?'

'i could never be,' he replied quietly. you know he means it.

moments pass in comfortable silence.

'we'll just make more moments in life to talk about,' he says after a while.

'sad moments?' you ask. you two usually talked about those. your lives were full of them.

'no,' he replies. 'happy. we'll be happy.'

he smiles at you, heart shaped, tiny freckle on his top lip. you smile back.

'okay.' you say. 'let's be happy.’

[m00nlitknight]

Hello. I really like your previous works. Can I make request, please? Reader's been in relationship with whole gang for a couple of months. Everything was ok but Henry got jealous and started to ruin her relationship with rest of the gang distancing her from them.

ofc!! ✨  i don’t know if im really happy where i left off with this, so if you’re interested i could potentially make a part two?  i’m pretty happy with some parts of it ngl, but that might be my 4am brain talking lol;;

warnings:  usages of slurs / degrading terms ( light, but still present ).  mentions of frick fracking.  possessive behavior.  none else to really talk about. pairing:  poly!bowers gang x reader / henry bowers x reader extra ( edit ):  feel free to look through my masterlist for other bower’s gang/reader works, and have a fantastic day!

vindictive.

The relationship with the infamous Bowers’ Gang began in what you could only describe as a fictional scenario.  You’d always been known as one of the kindest individuals in your classes, a large soul and absolutely heart-warming and dazzling smile.  The reputation, though humbling on the darkest of evenings, felt strenuous to keep up.  It was suffocating, sometimes, when you wanted nothing more than to fade in the scenery, or to say no to a request from someone.  Being the school doormat gave you an easy pass to adoration, but a hard road to doing whatever anyone wanted.

That’s what confused you about the sudden interest of the gang.  Sure, you had been paired up once or twice with them for class projects, shouldered the entirety of the workload; but everytime they hardly batted an eye your way.  Except for Vic, but he always seemed to be a bit more socially adept then the other three.  So it was only fitting that the initial interest came from him, one day after your shared class he approached you, and asked if you’d ever want to hang out.

Obviously, you said yes, and reaped the immediate consequences.  Practically the next day after his query, people began to look at and treat you differently.  No longer was there an affectionate warmth in their gaze, reserved exclusively for you, instead replaced with a brief flash of fear before morphing into a bout of confusion for how to tread the situation.  You didn’t mind it, or at least on the surface you didn’t.  The validation found in your peers suddenly being ripped from your grasp was a bit whiplash inducing, not that you could really do anything about it.

The initial hangout, which you look back at fondly as your first actual date, was a casually dressed affair.  He took you to get milkshakes, which you indulged in the city’s center and poked fun at the Paul Bunyan statue, then took you to go thrift shopping.  It was that day you’d found your new favorite sweater, called ‘hideous’ on many occasions by the likes of your mother and peers, and a cute denim skirt.

It didn’t take long for Henry himself to nearly shoehorn himself into your relationship with Vic, apparently prompting Belch to ambush the two of you on your second date.  The Trans-Am’s engine was unbearably loud, coming up behind the two of you holding hands as Henry hollered something you couldn’t quite make out.

Five months down the line, and half-way through Junior year, a heartfelt outpour from the entire gang; and suddenly you’d become the apple of all of their eyes, so to speak.  Most of the time, your interactions were soft with all the boys, cuddled up with them all -- your personal favorite being Belch, he knew just the position for you to be putty in your hands; Patrick on the other hand did everything in his power to make you squirm while in his grasp.  He’d simply cackle at your protests of his wandering hands, then proceed to mock the tone of your voice.

Though, from the sidelines, you were mostly able to ignore the fiery glares thrown by Henry.  No matter how much attention you gave him, how many times you’d let him leave unsolicited hickies on your neck in plain sight to be hidden from your mother, or held him after a rough night.

He’d never said thank you or praised you for anything, which left you devoid of where you stood with him.  If he hated you, would you even be around the other three?  Wouldn’t he have been completely blunt and outright with it?  The creeping worry manifesting itself in your gut grew with time, and with time you began to give him more of your attention to try and sedate it.

Inside the labyrinth of his mind, Henry’s opinion of you began as negative -- the ambushing of your and Vic’s date was a stunt to try and drive you away from the gang in entirety.  But you just came the fuck back.  Loyalty was written all over your features, as was inexperience.  With time, the faint flame of interest that licked the recesses of his mind fanned themselves into a stronger blaze, and suddenly the shared attention you had been giving the gang was like gasoline.

He played himself off as distant, instead replying to the work you put in with brief hand holds or an arm thrown around your shoulders to show possessiveness around school.  Being calculating obviously wasn’t his thing, nor was being patient.

He took your first kiss, and one of his first, one night while alone with you, the second month into the relationship.  Pussyfooting around the more carnal aspects of a relationship wasn’t something he typically found himself doing, but he knew that Vic or Belch would have his head if he rushed things too fast.  In the end, though, it drove him to wanting more.

Physical affection was kept behind closed doors, and he couldn’t be sure that your intimacy was only reserved for him, considering you never sported any other markings or called out the name of any of the other members while you were with him.  It inflated his ego to astronomical levels, and it killed him that he couldn’t flaunt it in his friend’s faces.

Regardless, he wanted you to himself and himself alone.

-----------

“Good morning!” your voice cut through the mid-morning drowsiness of the boys sitting in the parked Trans-Am on the curb in front of your home with steely sharpness, but a welcome smile finds its way onto Belch’s face.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he says from the driver’s seat.  “Hop in.”

“Can do!”  your morning pep leads to a foot on the tire and hauling yourself into the car by means of the roof, and plopping directly in Patrick’s lap - eliciting a hearty grunt and smirk from the boy.

“You’re awfully full of life this morning, feels shameful to waste this energy on something so innocent as breakfast,” he all but purrs as he tugs you further into his grasp while the car lurches forward and en route to the typical Saturday-morning hangout spot.

“Ew, Pat,” Vic cringes over to his friend and you, true malicious intent absent.  “It’s fucking brunch time, let ‘em wake up first, will you?”

His question is answered by a cheeky nip to your neck, causing you to squeal.

In the front seat, Henry broods silently.  On the radio plays one of Belch’s cassettes which goes unlistened, and a favorite of his; ...And Justice for All by Metallica.  The playful tone of your voice and Patrick’s advancements manage to leave a sour taste in his mouth, even though he made the extra effort to brush his teeth this morning.

The meal goes relatively uneventful, though your wandering eyes, half-lidded and vixen-esque, irritate him further.  Vic has an arm around your waist, and Belch holding an unoccupied hand under the table.  If he’d thought any better, Patrick was all but devouring you from across the table.  It was an affection-filled scene, which made the poor diner waitress visibly uncomfortable.

After breakfast, Belch drops both you and Henry off at your home, currently unoccupied by your mother who has work.  “Bye, we’ll be seeing you guys later!”

“Henry, be nice to ‘em, will ya?”  Belch booms from the window, around Patrick climbing into the front seat like an animal.

His request is met with a smirk from Henry, who pulls you into a passionate but short kiss in front of the trio.  “As nice as I can be.”

It leaves you immediately flustered and giggling as you’re pulled into your own home and leaving the other three in a vague state of confusion.  The engine faded away in the distance as you moved toward your house, a mess of giggles, flushed cheeks, and a downcasted gaze.  Henry’s smirk is short-lived as his expression shifts back to neutrality.  He watches you walk through the door and shift to the side to take off your shoes, opting to keep his own on.  The brief and blissful silence is broken by his voice, laced with the undeniable edge of his ire.  “Who’s your favorite?”

The question hangs in the air, souring the atmosphere directly as it leaves his mouth.  You freeze at the words, mid finangling your shoe off as you turn to look at him with a confused, and slightly hurt, expression.  “Huh?”

“Don’t play fuckin’ stupid.  Who’s your favorite?”  He takes a step towards you, which you subconsciously shrink back from.

“I-I don’t have one?”

“God, maybe y’are fuckin’ stupid.  There’s four of us and y’mean t’tell me not ‘a one of us sticks out more than the others?”

A blush spreads across your features, an involuntary testament to your unease and outright lie.  Your eyes dart to look anywhere but him as your body betrays you, petrified in intimidation.  “You,” murmur with a gentle voice and laced with a lack of thinking.

He leans down to your mouth, quickly overtaking your personal space and invading your nostrils with his scent -- cheap body spray and masculinity.  It’s nearly intoxicating.  “What was that?”

“You,” an utterance with little more force, the action of taking a lungful of air simply too strenuous.

“Mind tellin’ me why I feel the least love then?”

You almost want to deflate at it, even if the hands wrapping around your shoulder feel like nothing short of a tender moment.  All the time you’d spent with him, all that you’d given to him, and he still felt overshadowed?

“I…”

“Or, is it jus’ that you’re an attention-seeking slut?”  The words cut deeper then he’s capable of understanding, and the sick smile curling onto his lips and the whispered tone feel vastly different then what he’s actually saying.

You’re rendered speechless as he takes you closer to the couch, dragging you into a straddling position on him.  “Show me what I was missin’ at brunchfast then, huh?”

Wide-eyed and bashful you stare.  What are you even supposed to do?  He leans into you, peppering your throat with kisses while his hands wander up and down your sides.  Instinctively, your hands move to run through his hair and he nearly purrs at the contact and looks up at you with an intense, baby-blue gaze.

“Who’s your favorite?”

“You,” sighed out as he starts sucking on your neck and rubbing at your hips.

“Say it,”  a rough voice reverbs through him from his chest, and he relishes in the affection of your gentle hands.  You’re his.  His.

“You’re my favorite, Henry,” your voice tightens when he starts to suck on your collarbone.

---------

He’d managed to cut your afterglow short in the early evening, badgering you to call Belch and tell him not to drive you to school for the next week.  You did it, albeit with a bit of confusion, and feeling vague sadness when Belch’s tone took a nose-dive into disappointment when the subject of the call was revealed. For the next week, you couldn’t look any of the gang in the eye, instead taking to marinate in your own shame and blatantly avoid them.

[silvermystification]

i have to fight myself even to talk about this. so this might be a pretty jumbled text post. gets pretty personal under the cut. 

so i had to fight my own brain tooth and nail to find a reason to live. writing is the only thing that has ever brought me happiness. at the end of the day it’s what ive used to push past fears. i have all my hopes for the future banked on this one thing. and yeah i know that’s a bad thing, but i have nothing else. 

the stupid ass rsd picks apart everything else before i can even get my footing in it. but the bad thing is when the rsd gets its claws into my writing. like today. telling me all my work on my second book of this series is worthless. because you know the first book isn’t even out yet. but like jokes on it my beta reader isn’t done with it yet.

oh you’re telling me that my 3 other beta readers bailed on me. and it’s been like a week and you haven’t seen any more edits from the newest beta reader? oh well. guess i’ll be miserable working retail for the rest of my life. putting on a fake smile every day if it means having a roof over my head and food to eat. and if i stop kissing up to my boss for even a moment i’ll be fired and i’ll be homeless again. oh thanks rsd this is great. i love every moment that you come at me like this that’s great. 

can’t seem to bring myself to bring this up to my friends cause they are all suffering as of late. and i can’t seem to want to bring them down. i was doing fine and they ignored one fucking question yesterday and i was derailed hard. and i mean it’s not on them to make sure they reply to each and every thing that i say. that’s not on them. im not blaming them. but my rsd is surely latching onto it. that means they hate me right? that they just put up with my presence? 

im so tired. i don’t think ive had more then 5 hours of sleep each night for the past week. but my body simply isn’t letting me sleep. so of course that’s logically a way for the rsd to want to curl it’s way back to the driver’s seat. 

so you know of course my life sucks, my writing sucks, i don’t know why i try, the desire to self harm has spiked. and oh of course im fat and i’ll never pass as the nonbinary i want to be. or? what’s that rsd? being nonbinary isn’t really a thing? oh. im just a tomboy once again? oh that’s fun. i might as well be just as useless as i was before. 

im too tired to cry. im legitly too tired to cry. 

posting this post is going to be hard. cause i can see it now. if anyone actually reads it they’re just gonna talk to me cause they take pity on me. see the words self harm and feel the desire to make sure they talk to me. this is coming down to my writing. that’s what it boils down to. nothing else is nearly as important. im have no desire 

i can’t even finish that sentence at the fear of setting someone off. or this post is gonna make my current beta reader feel extra pressured. and i hate that. i hate putting putting pressure on anyone. my problems are my own. there’s nothing else anyone else should worry about me. there’s nothing they should care about that’s about me. there’s nothing. i can take care of myself. i have the demons in my head to keep  me company. i’m fine. everything is fine. im just a mighty fine upset and that’s my problem. i’ll get over it on my own like i always do. 

that’s why im venting here. i just need to get it out o f my system right? and come to terms that im a failure of a person and no one loves me. it’s fine. im used to being alone, ive done so all my life. that’s why my books are no good. my main character is just a mary sue. she’s just as lonely as me. she knows my deepest secrets. it doesn’t matter. nothing matters. it’s me and her and my demons. and her is me. it’s just a fantasy spin off of my own life right? i won’t sell more then 10 books and they’ll all be returned once they realize how much i suck. it’s all good. i’m a horrible human. 

[soundofseventeen]

13 Days of Christmas (Joshua Hong)

I am very tired, rip. gif credit to owners...im off to cure my cold

Word count: 1676

You wouldn’t call yourself the grinch, but you definitely hated the holidays. You couldn’t stand how the moment Halloween was over, Christmas trees were not only put up everywhere you turned, but the music seeped from the stereo and into your brain (and sometimes your dreams). And then there was the holiday shopping. There were people who didn’t deserve anything but you still had to get them something because you hung out with them. But then there were those who deserved everything the world had to offer, but you couldn’t afford that because the money in your bank account liked to laugh at you for even thinking it. None of that, however, compared to the ridiculous hours you had to work.

The worst job in the world, you liked to say, was retail. You didn’t mind dealing with people as long as they were friendly and didn’t send you into a panic attack after one interaction. They made your days bearable...and also not hate your job too much. But the ones who treated you like gum under their shoe or a roach they couldn’t kill made you wanna gouge your eyes out...or douse them in gasoline and set them on fire. You were fine with either option. It seemed like they all came out to play during the holiday deals and make your life even more miserable than it already felt. You’d been mentally preparing yourself for these days since July, maybe earlier...you didn’t know to be honest. Time now seemed like a foreign concept. Halloween meant dealing with parents fighting over the tiniest accessories for costumes to screeching for a manager because of a nonexistent discount. And the teenagers who acted too cool for everyone had you screaming into whatever you had in your hands. And November brought angry people who basically cursed you and your future generations for not having a bigger display of Thanksgiving items (despite few people celebrating the actual holiday.)

But those didn’t compare to the month-long Christmas. Christmas, ironically enough, was the holiday from hell. Most of the time, you clocked in early in the morning as the sun rose and there was a good chance you wouldn’t come out until the stars were out. If your manager didn’t have you mopping the floor from a coffee that a careless mom spilled, you worked the register, praying that you had the strength to get through your shift. You envied everyone who walked in or passed through those doors because they didn’t feel dread coursing through their bodies. All in all, if you could quit your job without worrying about your next paycheck, you would’ve walked a long time ago, because sometimes it didn’t feel like they paid you enough to deal with that bullshit. 

Tonight seemed like no exception when you trudged through your apartment door, your feet feeling like they’d give out at any second a little after midnight. You let yourself fall on your couch, ripping off the ridiculous Santa Claus hat your coworkers begged you to wear with them, wondering if you could “lose” it somehow. Your face hurt from the mostly fake smile you wore the entire time. You wanted a hot shower to relax your muscles; you wanted to sleep in to the new year so the stress would go away. You needed to look for your laptop so you could start your Christmas shopping so you could spare the other retail workers. (While customers left you apathetic, the empathy you felt for everyone else who dealt with them skyrocketed and you vowed to make things easier for them.);  you needed food so your tummy would quit whining at you to eat something; you needed to remind yourself that no other job paid above the minimum; you needed the fucking cold to go away so you could be less cranky. You just hated everything right now.

As if your night couldn’t get any worse, a scream sounded next door to you. It wasn’t an, “Oh my god, I’m dying here, someone please save me,” yell but one of, “Oh my god; what is this?!” How that was possible, you didn’t know but it was enough for you to leave your couch and out the door in record time to give them a piece of your mind. Some people were asleep at this hour and some like you wanted to wallow in their self-pity because they had to repeat today tomorrow again. 

You had a few choice words for the white flakes falling from the sky because now you had to officially accept that Christmas was coming and you were gonna die of premature stress. But then you saw the culprit who startled you and ruined your night and yelled out an irritated, “Hey!” with hopes of rolling whatever you could spew at him.

He looked at you, his emotions one of wonder and surprise at being acknowledged, his hand midair as if reciting a Shakespearan monologue.

His eyes were a lot sparklier than the ornaments that decorated the Christmas tree at work and you weren’t expecting that, so your expansive vocabulary of bad words died on your tongue, and the longer you looked at him, the harder it was to form a sentence of, “Why the fuck are you so loud?” or something along those lines...and goddamn it, now you were blushing because you had no idea what to do now. His black hair fell into his eyes as the wind blew and he made zero effort to move it, making him seem more attractive and if you weren’t frozen on the spot, you would’ve gone back in and let the roof cave in over your head.

“Hello,” he finally spoke and you were officially fucked. “Can I help you with something?” That. Lisp. With lips redder than Snow White’s had you melting into a puddle and ready to scream at whoever decided to make your life this hard.

“Yeah,” you hated yourself for how meek you sounded when you meant to sound intimidating. “Why’d you yell? Some of us have to be up early tomorrow.” Or in a few hours...time lost its meaning. All you knew was that your alarm had been set up already.

“I’m sorry. I-I just I’ve never seen snow before tonight. See, I’m from LA and it never snows there. Like, we’d go somewhere like Lancaster or more up north, but this is the first time I’ve seen it fall while I’ve been here.”

“Yeah, but so loud? Was that necessary?” Fuck, he was really cute with his reindeer antlers and you really needed to focus because now was not the time to look like a fool in front of a cute boy. Well, any more than you already have.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah well just don’t let it happen again.” You finally found the strength to move and you went back inside to let your neighbor have fun with the falling snow, trying to ignore your racing heart and blushing cheeks.

“Oh, shit this is cold!” 

“Dude!” you threw your head out.

“I’m Joshua,” he waved at you.

“And I wanna sleep.” You sighed. “Listen, I know you mean well, but I have to deal with unpleasant humans tomorrow and the day after that and this whole fucking month until the new year so if you shut up for the rest of the night, then I would appreciate it.” 

He shot you a finger gun and clicked his tongue. “Ahh, you work retail. I could tell by your attitude.” He shivered from the cold. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you; I was just excited to see it-”

And now you felt like a jerk. “No, I’m sorry it was just a really long day and people were annoying and some five-year-old kid almost made me cry and December is just a nightmare and it’s only the beginning. I didn’t mean to snap at you, and enjoy the snow.” You closed the door slowly and opened it again just as quickly. “Also, wear gloves because frostbite is not a joke. Okay, sorry for disturbing you.” *

The next morning, after digging in your closet to find all the accessories to keep you warm, you were running late. So much so, you didn’t even bother turning on your alarm. (It was insured so you weren’t too worried about something happening. And in your haste, you ran straight into...Joshua. Great. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll pay for any damages tonight. My boss’s gonna kill me if I don’t get there soon.”

“Do you ever just take a second to breathe?” He asked you, gently blowing on his coffee cup. The smell of it mixed with French vanilla wafted through the air and into your nostrils. “It’s not even eight yet. What’s the rush?”

“Traffic, and long lines to get breakfast.”

“Well, I have a bagel. Here.” 

“I don’t know you.”

“Well, it’s either take my word for it or you’ll be hungry for hours.”

“How’d you like the snow?” Better to change the subject even if meant getting there a little later than usual. You looked at his bagel a little longer and hesitantly reached for it. (And you realized you didn’t have dinner last night, making it look twice as good.)

“It’s really pretty. I’m kinda glad I live here now.”

“It won’t be like that after a while, trust me. And I really have to go. Uh, thanks for the bagel. I’ll pay you for that.”

“Just don’t yell at your neighbors anymore for seeing snow and we’ll call it even. Good luck at work. I think you might need it. Also, I didn’t get your name.” The cold air left his face red and you hated yourself for how attractive he looked.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, I’ll probably see you after work. Have a great day.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or sarcastic but you knew that he was cute and you may have believed in Santa Claus for bringing a cute boy to be your next-door neighbor.

[stormcrawler75]

For the Hero/villain ideas: Patton as a villain who is always willing to watch out for young heroes (capture instead of kill, give them snacks, etc.)

This is part 1! Here’s Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Virgil groaned as he woke up. His head was pounding and it felt like he had been run over by a truck. Several times. Virgil tried to move his hands up from his sides to cup his head but his hands only twitched in response. He forced his eyes open and looked down at himself. He was covered head to toe in bandages and was lying down on a large bed. He raised to his head.

His stomach dropped. This wasn’t his room.

That was when the memory from the night before hit him. He had been called by one of the older heroes, The Prince, to help out with a group of thugs that The Prince thought had been hired by one of the city’s villains. He had asked Virgil to take care of them while he went after the villain himself. 

Virgil had agreed. Even though he never handled the big name villains like the Prince, usually going after things that the big heroes didn’t have time for, but he wasn’t about to let these thugs walk around his neighbourhood and do whatever they wanted. 

He had thought that everything was going fine. It was a small group of people unloading boxes from vans. Virgil had recognized the logos on the boxes as Dr. Logic’s. A man that had a history of selling to villains. He hadn’t hesitated to attack. It had been an easy fight, Virgil disarming the grunts easily and knocking them out. But it had been a setup. The first box he had opened up had released a violent electric shock up his body that had sent Virgil to the ground. He didn’t remember anything else after that.

Whoever had been brought those boxes had known that a hero would be coming to stop them. And had decided to keep Virgil as a little prize.

Panic started to set in. What were they going to do to him? His mask was gone so they probably knew who he was and his powers weren’t responding. This was a nightmare.

Virgil had heard stories about villains did to heroes, had seen some of the Prince’s scars. He hadn’t thought he’d ever had to deal with that sort of thing. Virgil didn’t deal with villains, he dealt with street crimes. He never thought that a villain would be coming after him. He never should’ve taken this job, he was going to be killed, tortured, picked apart piece by piece. 

A whimper escaped Virgil when he heard a door creak open. He tried to steel himself for what he knew was coming next. He had to be strong, he had to be strong. Prince would come for him, he would. He just needed to hold out until then.

He looked around the room desperately for something that he could use to fight back but there was nothing. It was an empty room with only the bed Virgil was on, another door that had to hold something terrible in it, and a chair beside it to fill it. He tried to sit up but his muscles barely twitched. Had he been drugged? 

The door swung open and Virgil shrunk back into his bed. Be brave, be brave, be brave.

A man, short built with blond curly hair walked in with a covered tray in his hands. He was wearing khakis pants and a blue polo shirt with a grey sweater tied around his shoulders. He looked over at Virgil and smiled happily when he saw Virgil looking back at him. “You’re awake! Good morning, Shadow!”

Virgil clenched his jaw and stared defiantly back at him. He went through the list of villains in his head and tried to match this man to one of them but no one stood out in his mind as this man. Maybe another member of the villain’s crew?

“I’m glad you’re awake,” the man sighed. “I’m so sorry that this happened. I thought that it was going to be The Prince who would be going after my crew, not you. I should’ve known better than to think that, especially since you tend to look out for that side of the city.” He kicked the door closed behind him and set the tray down on the tray. 

“What’d you do to me?” Virgil asked. He cursed himself when he heard the waver in his voice, something that the man had picked up on, no doubt. 

The man smiled at him reassuringly. “Just a shot that’ll keep you from moving for a while. I couldn’t have you running around my home, now could I, kiddo?”

Virgil tensed up when the man walked over to the closet and start rummaging inside. He glanced over to the tray on the chair and tried to imagine what could be under it. What was this man going to do to him?”

The man turned around with a pile of blankets, something that made Virgil blink in confusion. He watched as the man laid blanket after blanket over him, tucking him in as he went. 

“My name’s Patton, by the way,” the man, Patton, chirped. “You’re gonna be here for a few days so I thought that I should tell you. It was going to get really awkward really quickly if I hadn’t. I wouldn’t want you to not know what to call me. So you can call me Patton, or whatever makes you comfortable.”

Virgil asked hesitantly, “And what does your boss call you?”

Patton paused in his task and stared at Virgil. Slowly, a smile grew on his lips and a bubbly laugh came out of him. “Oh, oh kiddo!” He shook his head in amusement. “I think you got me mistaken for someone else. I know that I don’t get out much and there aren’t many pictures taken of me so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t know you I am.”

He leaned over and brushed Virgil’s bangs out of his eyes. “I think you’ll know the name ‘Heart’ better than Patton.”

Virgil’s breath hitched. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. 

It wasn’t his luck that he had been caught by a bad guy. He had to be caught by the bad guy. The big one.

Heart was known by everyone. He was an Empath and one of the villains that every Hero knew to be on the lookout for. He was the villain that seemed to have a hand in everything that happened in the city. The real-life boogieman parents warned their kids about.

And now Virgil was his prisoner.

“No need to be scared, kiddo,” Patton cooed. “I know I have a bit of a reputation among Heroes but I’d never hurt a young one. You’re only fourteen, aren’t you?”

“How do you know that?” Virgil asked, fear rising. He was trembling, shaking now. Any chance of staying strong was slipping through his fingers and he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to handle it if  Patton started anything.

“I did some digging when my crew brought you in!” Patton sat on the edge of his bed and patted his limp hand. “Virgil Shae, fourteen years old, lives at the city’s Orphanage and is a freshman in High School. You got some cool powers there, kiddo, they’re really something else. You do great work with them!” He leaned over to the tray and uncovered it, placing the dome on the floor. On the tray, was a plate of orange slices and a cup of apple juice with a bendy straw bobbing inside. 

Confusion replaced his fear and Virgil could only stare at the plate in bemusement. Was the juice laced with something? Was Patton just playing with him? “What are you playing at?” He asked with an edge in his voice. “When are you going to drop this act and start it?”

“It?” Patton cocked his head. “Kiddo, I think you’re confused. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re just gonna stay here for a few days while I wait for Prince to show his head.” He picked up an orange slice and popped it in his mouth. “I took another young Hero a few months ago. He was poking around one of my operations. I think his name’s Sleep. Did I hurt him?”

Virgil thought back to the story that Sleep had told him about his brief time as a prisoner of Heart. He hadn’t been hurt at all. Kept in a room with plenty of books and a Gameboy to keep him entertained. A minion would give him a plate of food every few hours and he was released after a few days. Sleep didn’t say much about it but was insistent on the fact that Heart had never touched him. Not once. He shook his head.

“See! I promise you’re safe.” Patton grinned and held an orange slice to Virgil’s lips. “Now, you haven’t eaten for a whole day now and you need to get something in your stomach. Eat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m telling you, Prince,” Virgil said in a bored voice. “No matter how many times you ask, the answer won’t change. He didn’t hurt me. I was drugged up for a few hours and I wasn’t able to move much or use my powers. The muscle thing wore off though and I was fine. I was given food and wasn’t touched.” He shrugged. “Heart gave me a DS to play around with.”

“What?!” Sleep crossed his arms petulantly. He was sitting on the edge of roof him, Virgil, and The Prince was standing on. Virgil was sitting a few meters away from him and Prince was pacing between them anxiously. “That just ain’t fair, gurl. He only gave me a Gameboy.”

“Sucks to be you,” Virgil drawled. Remy flipped him the bird in reply.

Prince stepped between them. “That’s enough. Now, are you sure he didn’t hurt you, Vee? You said he knew your name?”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah, knew a lot about me. Knew where I live too.”

Prince sighed and shook his head. “That’s not good. He has both of your names now. Okay, I’m not taking any risks. I let you go back home, Rem, but now? You’re both relocating to my HQ. We need to keep you both safe. We might have to get you guys new IDs. This is such a mess.”

“He’s not that bad,” Virgil shrugged. “He seemed to like us, at least.”

Remy nodded. “Maybe he just doesn’t like you, Princey.”

Prince gasped dramatically and clasped his hands to his chest. “Everyone likes me! Heart just doesn’t appreciate my witty banter, that’s all!”

Virgil rolled his eyes and stood up. “Whatever, Princey. Now, are you gonna show us our new digs or not? I’m hungry. Patton might be nice but he didn’t give me many snacks except for orange slices.”

Remy grinned at him. “Sucks to be you. He gave me some pineapple.”

“What?! Lucky jerk!”

Taglist undercut

General Taglist

@punsterterry

@iris-sanders-athena

@heck-im-lost

@sanders-trash-4ever

@tiredfluid

@sevenatee

@i-really-dig-the-purple

@detroit-become-pan

@trust-me-i-just-get-weirder

@radioactivehelena

@max-is-tired

@unikornavenger

@amazonprimebox

@emmydragon

@eli-galaxy

@lunareclipse-524

@thepotatoking1010

@bleepblopbloop56

@world-class-izzy

@violetsandpride

@smolautumnchild

@sanderssmosh-n-musicals

@cookiethedevil

@satanblessi

@figurative-falsehood

@crookedlyoptimisticdestiny

@ao-koshka

@onenightjoanly

@alsoyouremischievous

@figurative-falsehood

@mrtacothethird

@analogical-mess

@combine-the-kitchens

@knight-shives

@the-office-cat

@dark-kestrel

@lizziepopanime

@razberrypuck

@kastrefeila

@lilcutekittykat

@ladyonce

@penguinpatty1502

@analogical-mess

@incorrectqueereye

@liz-a-bell

@imjustawibba

@remy-alagaesias-dragon-queen

@fandoms-winkitywonk

@therubyjailcell

@idont-know-what-im-doing

@angels-and-dreams

@europa-bear

@pumpkinminette

@viva-la-pluto-dam-you

@ravens-rambling

@felicianoromano

@artemispowell

@phander-trash

@felicianoromano

@maehemscorpyus

@the-anti-virgil

@georganabanana

@kaileah-kat

@omg-rainbowgalxy-things

@chemically-imbalanced-romance

@just-another-rainbowblog

@asymmetricalgarbage8888

@imtooaromaticforthis

@ambersky0319

[sunwritten]

hi guys  😁  i am ur girl mimi  ( she/her, mst, 22 )  and all u have to know about me is that i do nothing but keysmash , cry , listen to redvelvet and arianagrande, talk spanglish since spanish is my first language AND that i love sonic the hedgehog . now let me introduce to u to my boy  😁

̗̀   ✰   ― 〔  cha  eunwoo,  cis  male,  he/him  ）―  ❝  have  you  seen  mason  choi  walking  around  the  town  square  in  the  afternoon  ?  if  you’re  close  enough  you  might  even  be  able  to  hear  in  your  eyes  by  the  weeknd  blasting  through  their  headphones.  they’re  twenty-four  and  are  currently  working  as  a  piano instructor  /  songwriter.  once  you  get  to  know  them,  you’ll  be  able  to  find  out  that  they’re  very  candid  and  reserved,  but  also  can  be  very  lackadaisical  and  blunt.

statistics .

name: mun-hee “mason” choi .

age: 24 .

dob: january 1st , 1996 .

gender + pronouns: cis male , he/him .

zodiac: capricorn sun , libra moon , pisces raising .

orientation: bisexual , biromantic . 

religion: heavily raised under catholic influences . he doesn’t care , though .

hometown: olympia , washington .

residence: novan , south carolina .

occupation: piano instructor, but he can be a tutor for anything if he does some investigation the night prior. singer and songwriter in hopes to make it big one day. streamer and influencer on twitch, youtube and instagram. 

about .

THE JACK OF ALL TRADES: a person who is not content learning about just one thing only , developing a sense to learn something efficiently so they can be good enough at whatever they choose . raised under a strict household , mason craved to learn and experience more than what was taught under the roof of his house and church . spent most of his life reaching out ( sometimes suceeding , sometimes not ) to everything to have some kind of experience under his belt: some of these being both noticed by his parents and some others not ( and for the better ) . a quick learner and adaptable , and when he knows how to approach new skills properly , no mountain is too high for him .

the only child to a priest and a lawyer . mun-hee , eventually introducing himself as mason because he was tired of repeating his name over and over , was brought up in a wealthy and strictly catholic household in olympia , washington . he was forbidden from doing anything out of the ordinary since he could remember ; from dirtying up his sunday clothes to not attending his best friend's birthday party because his parents had the suspicion that substances were going to be involved at the party , and they didn't want him to fall into that hole . if only they knew .

was pushed into the church's choir against his own will when he turned eight , weeks later he was not only praised by his voice , but he fell in love with music . he learned how to play the piano and guitar by himself , and he was later taught by his parent's friends on how to play the violin , the flute , the drums and even the saxophone . he is currently learning how to play the cello and the harp . he specializes on piano , guitar and drums only while the others are one of his multiple , but not so developed , skills .

wrote his very first song when he was eleven ( something that got him the first place at his school's talent show ) , since then he has been writing and creating his own music . he’s currently working on trying to produce something good enough to put out one day . his passion on music caused some tension between him and his parents because , although they didn't disown him or anything , they didn't approve of it---- mostly because they had plans of having him replace his father's position at their church . this caused mason to simply not talk about music with them . it was when he graduated high school when he decided to move out to new york to attend columbia as a mathematics major with a minor on creative writing . after graduation , he moved to novan at the age of 21 because he wanted a new change of scenery .

jason has his own youtube channel , filled with vlogs about literally everything: archives of his past gaming streams on twitch , guitar/piano/bass/song covers that have gone viral on twitter and instagram time to time so he has somewhat of a following fanbase .

tidbits .

despite that i know nothing about mason so im going full force on development with him LKSJKLSJSLKJSLKJS

a himbo . he’s a really nice guy ... kinda dense .. kinda slutty ....... but at the same time he’s v reserved and doesn’t speak until someone is speaking to him bc that’s juss how he was raised U know

he’s not as religious as his parents think he is . he doesn’t... really care but that’s the religion he was raised with so . but that won’t stop him from wearing this sexc necklace with a golden cross bc he thinks he looks hot with it Mwah .

mason has a good relationship with his parents actually !!!! something that is sexc despite of the lil music tension because not only he adores them and they adore him , but he’s lowkey living off their money but at the same time he has gotten a bunch of MONIESSSS because rich people keep giving him money so he can teach their kids to play ( insert musical instrument here ) hehe .

u kno on parasite how the kim family started to do the things the park family wanted or whatever..... kinda like that . sometimes uses his skill of being a quick learner to come up with something quick and make it believable and get the monies KJKLSJSJS

a piano , guitar and drums prodigy . sings like an angel and has the voice of my man’s baekhyun with some lil justin bieber undertones u kno.....  probably v popular at karaoke bars . and he’s a songwriter too and produces and mixes his own music and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

he wants to put out music sometime but for now....... he just makes random covers on his youtube channel , a channel that became popular bc oooooooooooooo cute boy who can sing and play the piano and is funny on his videogame streams . lets subscribe and tip him ten dollars so he can sing a song to me on his next stream <3 !

has gone viral time to time bc of his covers and bc hes really funny on twitter ngl . but if someone recognizes him he gets rather shy LSKJSLKSJKSLJ 

fucks around with alcohol and some drugs but it’s nothing too wild . he has been toying w these habits since high school and he still thanks god that they never found out about this ldjldkjdkldjd 

idk what else to say

he knows how to do card and skateboard tricks but please dont ask him to do wild things on the skateboard please he just can do the basics and doesn’t fancy the idea of getting his nose broken again LKJLSKJSLKSJLKSJ

a whole ass gamer when he’s not scratching his head trying to come up with the perfect sound for a new song . will ignore phone calls and messages until he’s done . he is also one of those bitches who will make u cum and then will get up to continue his game SLKJKLSJSKLJSKLSJ

he has a white cat and a cocker spaniel: phat and kiwi! aka the loves of his life 

a hopeless romantic who has like 289739873 failed relationships . he was a puppy heartbreaker when he was in college ngl

wanted connections.

best friend or someone he’s super close with ever since he moved in

unlikely friendship

partying buddies

PARTNERS IN CRIME

maybe he can be a cornerstone to someone just kno he’s not good with advice LKSJLKSJSLKJSKLSJ

maybe someone he teaches piano??? or maybe he taught them something else IDK

maybe a muse... someone who gives him so much inspo for his music/poems mmmmm this could be multiple because he finds inspo on everyone basically

exes ( good / bad terms ) kinda want three exes so he could say ONE TAUGHT ME LOVE , ONE TAUGHT ME PATIENCE AND ONE TAUGHT ME PAIN !!!!!

one sided crush ( them @ him or him @ them )

MUTUAL CRUSH ???????????????????

someone he spoils just bc ( this should be talked abt i guess )

frenemies

mutual annoyance

maybe someone who joins him on his vlogs u kno..... like when they r together his followers (or theirs if there’s someone out there who was a youtube channel too) are like o shit hell yeah

fwb(s) because he’s a slut  -________-

bad / good influences are also good

one night stands 

idk

fuck

pokemon go buddies 

neighbors? he lives in an apartment complex and his apartment is sexc ngl 

i like to brainstorm tho

please plot with me thanks

[sxfterhearts]

aesthetics tag!!

tagged by @flowerbeom​ 💞💞 (thank you kat!! hope you’ve been doing alright 🥰)

rules: bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold

tagging: anyone who wants to do this HAHA (im so late oops)

soft

baby pink | iridescent | glitter is always a good option | no bra | minimalistic tattoos | cherry patterns | sweet scented perfumes | wearing generous amounts of blush | doodling hearts | getting excited to pet an animal | fun nails | rewatching old barbie movies | hair sticking to glossed lips | heart shaped sunglasses | taking pictures of the sunset or sunrise | stuffed animals | protecting nature | stickers everywhere | teen movies | the light rain that falls from a clear sky at the beginning of the night

dark academia

neutral tones | masculine outfits | studying languages | worn down copy of books | grey skies | turtleneck sweaters | loose fitting pants | hair tied with a silk ribbon | trying to remember a cool difficult word you read somewhere to use in a convo | thick belts | minimal makeup | windows fogged by rain | vintage jewelry | blouses with cuffed sleeves | reading a murder mystery and trying to solve it | oxford style shoes | sweater vests | subtitled old movies in a language you don’t speak | leaves crackling as you walk | annotating books to express your emotions about the story

edgy

closet full of dark clothes | fishnet tights | makeup sweating off | neon signs | searching for unknown songs | chokers | band tees | doodling on old converses | finding smoking aesthetically pleasing but not doing it | weird humor | accidentally very dramatic | dim lights | layered outfits | chain belts | chipped nail polish | messy hair | low quality pics | piercings | combat boots | scribbling on desks

seventies

colorful wardrobe | doodling flowers | wearing short shorts | using a bikini top or bra as a normal top | listening to ABBA | flowers in your hair | diy-ing everything | jamming to songs alone in your room | drunkenly telling your friends you love them | patterned bandanas | mid heeled shoes | messy braids | flared sleeves | walking barefoot on grass or sand | bold sunglasses | the good kind of tired you get after doing something you enjoy for hours | feeding stray animals | fun patterned socks | room decorated with succulents and other plants | likes to go roller skating or skateboarding

preppy casual

collared clothes | drinking juice out of a champagne glass | getting excited to see the met gala looks | thick headbands | small pastel cardigans | making your friends take your ootd pics | plaid mini skirts | tweed two pieces | watching reality tv to pass time | frilly tops | watching old hollywood movies | academically driven | long manicured nails | new year’s eve fireworks | colorful tights | layered golden jewelry | yearns for luxury brand items | decorating your room with fairy-lights | cursive and neat handwriting | lace details

cinanamon - steph

gold jewelry, slowdancing in the kitchen with a lover, sun on skin, red-tinted lip balm, lazy mornings, getting lost in foreign cities, scent of bakeries, high-waisted jeans, kissing someone’s neck, writing reminders on your wrist, sleeping in braids to have waves in the morning, growing an herb garden, gentle touches, sketches tucked between pages, flushed cheeks, tandem bikes, floating in a pool, vintage gold hand-mirror, deer grazing, softly singing while doing chores

jaesmintea - dia

oversized everything | painted nails | fairy lights | dozing off in the middle of class | tying hair up into a ponytail | round glasses | laughing so hard you can’t breathe | late night study sessions | tender hand holding | impromptu photoshoots | drowning in moondust | bathing in the light of the sunset | strawberry flavored lollipops | polaroid pictures | eagerly tugging someone down the street | handwritten love letters | smell of coffee | living with reckless abandon | crinkled pages of a journal | replaying the same part in a song over and over

naptimetea - helena

everything black | rewearing your favorite outfit | drawing late into the night | rewatching favorite shows | the bread isle | minty lip balm | falling asleep anywhere and everywhere | making green tea | useless questions when it’s 2 am | forehead kisses | sleeping in till the afternoon | love of pink | staying up to watch the sunrise | dancing in the bathroom | messy handwriting | pile of sketchbooks | talking for hours about interest | old sentimental stuff animals | hanging out on the bed and doing nothing | thick fluffy blankets

jeonginks

the thrill of leaning your body way over a balcony’s edge | the suffocating feeling when the strong wind blows down your lungs | tip-toeing barefoot | hair ruffling and cheek pinching | hugging a body pillow at night | facing the sky with closed eyes | the whimsical silence when it’s past midnight and you’re the only person awake | when you can physically feel your eyes soften when you look at someone | dancing alone with only an oversized shirt | when your sweater falls over your thighs as you stand up | humming scary but memorable lullabies | vivid imagination | w-sitting with a mini skirt and thigh high socks | heated laptop on your lap | cereal at 3 am | gliding your fingers across your thighs | bittersweet melancholy | withdrawn and distant eyes | very tight belts | wanting love but not believing in it | not cruel but not kind

scxrlettwxtches

listening to a song and remembering the times you used to listen to it on repeat | imagining yourself living in any other life than the one you have now | crop tops and high waisted jeans | forgetting to smile but not actually being upset | nuzzling your face in the crook of their neck | back hugs when you’re stressed | turning in assignments 1 minute before they’re due | wanting a relationship but getting scared the moment you’re in one | pretending that you don’t care when inside you’re burning with doubts and fears | the sound of the evening waves as you lie on the sand | lying in your bed listening to your sad playlist | exhaustion but you can’t sleep | singing loudly when you’re the only one home | feeling safe and comfortable with that person in your life | knee high suede black boots with your black winter coat | comfort over appearance | writing essays at 2 am | creative peak from 1 am to 4 am | the one that always ends up walking in the back of a friend group

hyunsracha - sav!

split-dye hair | female rappers | staying up until 6am and sleeping until 1pm | taking notes on an ipad | middle school emo music | mini skirts | late night drives | rain on the ocean | flirting with people when you’re bored | doc martens | eating ramen in the pot | afraid of being looked at | fishnets | getting joy out of making people laugh | small tattoos | crying yourself to sleep | peppermint everything | desperate for freedom | chipped black nail polish

lveletters

well-worn converse | ginger ice cream | farmers’ markets | amaretto in coffee | the sound of pen on paper | empty mountain trails | black and white photographs | vintage bicycles | roads trips with no destination | overfilled bookcases | a shoebox full of ticket stubs | granny smith apples | orange gerbera daisies | cardigan sweaters | games that tell a story | red wine in a mason jar | succulent gardens | tattoos of birds | fresh-baked muffins | a favorite pair of jeans

dnceracha - sydni

black chelsea boots | chapped lips | browline glasses | losing yourself in video games | impressionist art | pink peonies | writing down anything you need to remember | the smell of gasoline | business goth style | dangly earrings | florals | ballet flats | cuffed jeans | liking the villain | a stack of journals | generous amounts of highlighter | knives | rain on a tin roof | heavy footsteps | small-town diners

bamshine - sae

chunky black boots | not realizing you’ve been writing for hours | soft dog fur under your hand | the loud gathering of friends after an exhausting dance class | bubble tea | casual touches between friends | beach trips | airports late at night or early in the morning | coming home from travel and finally being in your own bed | leaves crunching under your foot | shopping for groceries with christmas music on the radio | loud family gatherings over a pizza | succulents | goofy singing and dancing with friends | getting so into a book you do nothing else all day except read | cool summer evenings around a bonfire | apple cider | the scent of vanilla | selfies with friends | the sting of a new tattoo

jjinyounf - cres

ocean breezes | moonlight/sunlight through clouds | sweatpants and baggy tees | empty journals | stud earrings | messy bedroom | thought-provoking movies | apple cinnamon | hot, but not sticky weather | chill big dogs | mixing flavoured vodka with ice cream | playing songs at full blast in the shower | quiet corners | the sound of bacon while it cooks | loud thoughts but quiet words | staying in bed until the absolute last second | mid-calf boots in the winter, flip flops in the summer, sneakers every other time | mental breakdowns doing anything academic-related | madras shawls | the colour combo of red, black, gold, and white

flowerbeom - kat

polaroids | saying hello to the moon | buying more books that you can read | lo-fi playlists to fill the emptiness | baking bread of saturdays | playing the same song over and over until you learn the lyrics/vocal runs perfectly | milk tea | booping your cat’s nose with your nose | keeping a stash of that one perfect pen | being the quiet listener in conversation but always has a great story to tell | sneakers over everything | watching the sunrise through cracked open blinds | leather and patchouli candles | freshly cooked rice | finding the perfect word to describe something | the crunch and squeak of walking on freshly fallen snow | writing “hello” on foggy windows | strolling through ancient forests and feeling small | kissed on bare shoulders | falling asleep to the sound of rain

sxfterhearts - rach

espresso dripping onto a cup of milk | taking pictures of food before eating | drunk karaoke | bangs | travel journals | writing out your favourite lyrics | sentimental playlists on sad days | sending multiple long texts in quick succession | white clouds and blue skies | watching the moon from your bedroom window | cafe vlogs | glittery pink eyeshadows | mailing postcards to yourself | pastel flower bouquets | baking as therapy | the feeling of strikingly cold air on your cheeks | ink stains on your fingers | intimate late night conversations in the car after a night out | writing and daydreaming to escape reality

[childofthenight2035]

Nothing But A Name

A/N: i literally cannot believe this

my fic just got deleted somehow maybe i was just a dumbass but whatever

so this is a repost im sorry if you’ve already read it forgive me

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x g!Reader

Summary/Prompt: You have a secret blog and an enthusiastic fan, but never in a million years would you think it was who it was.

Genre: Fluff, College!au

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: None

-

—Y/N POV—

I shoved my books and pens aside after carefully tucking my (finally) completed Economics assignment, still wondering if the teacher would accept it. The rain pounded down onto the dorm roof harder with each passing hour. I half-hoped we would get a day off because of too much rain.

“I’m only a day late,” I assured myself aloud. “Relax.” I wanted to sleep, I wanted to not get back up for the rest of the week. It was only Wednesday. I had three more days of classes until I could sleep until noon and not have to stay up so late. I pulled my laptop out of my bag and placed it carefully onto the desk. I checked my watch. I probably still had time for a post before I slept.

I opened my blog page, Tristful, and typed away at the keys, making a new post.

It’s raining. Really hard. Rain is always portrayed as a symbol of bad luck, isn’t it? of grief and loss? But I’ve always loved it. It’s beautiful.

It’s tiring, isn’t it? Having to wake up in the morning and do the things that you hate to do? Me? I want to draw and paint and play my music, I want to photograph everything under the sun, I want to read and I want to write. But I can’t. Like a lot of people can’t. I’m so exhausted, with living life. No one on this side of the screen seems to care much.

Loving someone taught me how to sacrifice in vain,

And loving no one taught me to love myself again.

I clicked post and leaned back in my chair, knowing that sleep would soon trap me in its hold. My eyelids were already getting heavy. I stared at the screen, a tiny bit of relief flowing through me, that I had a place to vent; a place to smile and to cry where no one would know it was me. My blog was a complete secret—not even my best friend Ziya knew.

A ping startled me: someone had sent a message. I opened the box and saw, spirit rising, that bubblegum-dimples had replied to my newest post. I smiled to myself. I had no idea who this person was (I assumed it was a she) but she had taken it up to follow me and react to whatever I did. Not in the creepy way, I mean. It was sort of cute, once I got used to it.

Aw its okay things will get better you sound like you need a hug I wish I was there! its raining here too lol

I laughed. thanks Im feeling better already

Then, as an afterthought, I added: what are you up to nowadays?

Soon I got a  reply. what else? homework. it sucks being in uni and still having to do hw

ooh uni> me too what subject do you take

I take history and econ. science isn’t for me haha *shrug*

My eyebrows raised in amusement. I take economics too its such a bitch nowadays

speaking of which, I should really get back to studying sorry got to go

okay bye ttyl

I shut down my computer and collapsed onto my bed. I fumbled around for my alarm clock and set it for six the next morning. It’s already two am? I thought, horrified. Damn, I’m going to spend the entire day in bed after I turn in my assignment. My eyelids drooped.

The agonizing buzz of my phone caused my eyes to snap open, mentally screaming at whoever had the audacity to call so early and throw away my sleep. I reached over to the desk where I was sure I had kept my phone, my head still buried in my pillow. Without even looking at the caller, I answered. “Hello?”

“Sorry, Y/N, did I wake you?”

Jaehyun. Jaehyun. Why. Why?? “You sick son of a—“ I sighed, rubbing the drowsiness out of my eyes and propping myself up on my elbows. “No, of course you didn’t. What are you talking about? I’m always bright and fresh at two freaking am.”

I could almost see him wincing on the other side. “Y/N, I’m really sorry. I just needed help on the last homework question in Econ.”

“You expect me to believe that you were up until two doing homework?” I asked incredulously, this wasn’t like him at all.

“You know the professor will kick me out of class if I don’t do my work this time, too,” he whined. “You heard him.” I had heard him. Jaehyun had most consistently failed to submit his paperwork for five weeks in a row and the professor publicly humiliated him, asking him not to take Economics if he had such a low IQ that he couldn’t add two numbers.

I groaned. “Which question?”

“The last one,” he replied, sounding infinitely more cheerful. “Question 20.”

I squinted around and took my book from where I had shoved it aside, rummaging quickly through it for the answer. “Um. Option (b).”

“Why though?” I silently prayed to whoever was listening to help this boy through his troubled times.

“It’s the same exact question as one of the examples in the text.” I voice shaking as I yawned. “Look in the book, dumbass. Quit pestering me so late.”

“The textbook?” I heard shuffling sounds.

“Do you even still have your text?” I teased. “Or did you sell it for drug money?”

“Hey, I don’t do drugs,” he protested. “Oh, I found the question. Thanks.”

“Hm.” I mumbled. There was a pause. I knew he hadn’t hung up because I could hear his breathing.

“Are you okay?” he suddenly asked.

My forehead creased. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, just…you sound sick?” Another pause. “Oh, right, you were sleeping. Never mind.”

“I’m fine. Goodnight, Jae,” I said firmly, wanting nothing more than rest.

“Yeah. Goodnight. Thanks.” Then I heard a beep. He’d hung up.

Thank you, I mentally remarked. Boy’s been pushing his limits. Jaehyun wasn’t my best friend, no, I had only met him after I started uni last year. But although we had only two classes together, something seemed to stick. My actual best friend, Ziya and Jae couldn’t stand each other. They only did to be civil. Ziya said she was sure he was some fishy guy and Jae said she was stuck-up and possessive. Neither was true. Personally, I just thought they were jealous of each other. Maybe they liked each other? Too much thinking. Shut up and go to sleep, brain.

 -

—Jaehyun POV—

I hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed. Then I got back to work, holding an eye open with one hand and furiously scribbling away into my notebook with the other. I hadn’t been lying. I was doing my homework.

Okay, maybe I procrastinated until ten pm. Okay, and maybe I was looking at my phone half the time. I was still doing my homework.

I finished the answer and literally flung my book and pen aside, throwing myself onto the bed. My hand cradled my phone and I smiled to myself, remembering the post.

Okay, so I had a blog. Nothing to be overly concerned about. A lot of people had blogs. But mine was secret. I didn’t let anyone see or even know about it. They would probably tease the heck out of me. At any rate, no one would suspect that I had a blog that looked like what it did. I didn’t want people to know that side of me. Everyone saw me as goofy and cool and as of the moment, I was okay with that scenario.

But there was that girl. The girl who posted almost every day and wrote little couplets at the end of her posts. I was sure it was a girl—if it turned out to be a guy, I would be genuinely surprised. Not that guys can’t write poems—the way the person wrote just gave me that instinctive feel. The name of her blog was Tristful and I remember the moment I first saw the blog, I had rushed to find the meaning of the word. Sad, I recalled. Melancholy. She didn’t say anything extravagant. Not many pictures of her favourite singers and actors, no out-of-this-world conspiracy theories, just a simple post about what happened in her day. Not a play-by-play description. Just a note of her mood, and the most relatable things that I’d ever read. Her little couplets were awesome, too. That took effort. Not many people had the patience to think up a new couplet each time they posted something.

She had posted just a few minutes ago. And like the loyal follower (some people might call me a stalker, I swear I’m not) I was, I immediately liked it and replied. It was apparently raining over there, wherever she was. It was raining even harder over here. But today’s post was a lamentation about how she had to live life in a way she didn’t want to. I couldn’t agree more. I was learning history and economics but I wanted to sing and dance and perform. It was frustrating. I felt like everyone was slipping into a boring monotonous life that our ancestors set the blueprints for, and people like tristful19 tried to pull us out and make us see that we could, hypothetically, do what we wanted.

I would never admit it to myself, but I liked her. Even if it wasn’t a her. She made me feel like I wasn’t alone. It seemed weird, but I had developed a sort of crush on her, whoever she was. She must be somewhere far away, possibly millions of miles, and most likely saw me as another girl. But even so, my heart always felt warm when she replied.

I was still smiling to myself as I drifted off to sleep.

 -

—Y/N POV—

I entered my Economics class, assignment in hand to see Jaehyun staring off into space with a dreamy look in his eyes, smiling to himself. That’s odd, I thought. He looks like a lovesick puppy. “Yah!” I said, flicking him in the forehead. He snapped back to where I was from wherever he had been, frowning. “You look like you’re in love, what’s up?”

A faint red tinged his cheeks. Was he actually blushing? “Nothing,” he said uncertainly, trying to play it cool. “What are you talking about?”

“Your ears are red, Jae.”

He immediately covered them. “No, they’re not.”

Cut the crap, Jae. “Is it Ziya?” I deadpanned. His mouth fell open.

“What?!”

I shrugged. “Is it Ziya?”

“Why would you think that I’m in love with Ziya?” he retorted. “I don’t even like her.”

“Well, I mean, both of you are always fighting and teasing each other.” I seated myself in the chair behind him. “I don’t know, I was just asking. Seemed to me like the textbook definition of a schoolboy crush.”

“Well, Y/N, if you haven’t noticed, I’m not a schoolboy,” he hissed. “Don’t know why—“ Just then the professor walked in. The class fell silent. Jaehyun turned around after giving me one last nasty look.

 We both managed to get through Economics without much incident. I turned in my paper and the professor was satisfied with the homework that Jae submitted for the first time that semester. The only chink in the glass was that he gave back some tests that he finally graded. I walked through the halls to my next class, a C- printed in bold letters on the paper dangling from my hand.

“Hey, at least you didn’t fail,” Jaehyun mumbled as he trotted beside me, crumpling up his test sheet and tossing it into a nearby trash can.

“Hey, Y/N!” I didn’t need to look at Jae’s scowl to know that it was Ziya.

“Athletes are called to the field at nine-thirty,” she panted as she jogged up to us. I groaned. “It’s on the notice board. Get going. You know how the coach goes hard on latecomers better than anyone. I’ll get your notes for this period.”

I handed her my bag, but Jae snatched it away from me, frowning at Ziya. “Jae—?”

“You don’t even take English,” he snapped at her. “How would you take her notes? I’ll take them,” he said, turning to me, “I don’t take my own anyway. Wait up after practice, okay? I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Oh, really? Thanks, Jae,” I replied, confused but smiling sweetly at him. What a nice change. “Stay in love, it’s doing you wonders.” As I sprinted down the hall, I could hear the two of them bickering. I shook my head. Those two would never get along, would they?

Was he in love? I pursed my lips. Wouldn’t he tell me at least, if he was? I wonder who it is…. I shook myself. Are you being jealous, Y/N? No. I’m only mad that he  didn’t say anything before. Lies. You’re jealous, aren’t you? NO! I’M NOT! STOP IT!

  -

—Jaehyun POV—

“You’re being pretty generous today.” The voice made me roll my eyes and turn around. Ziya. Of course.

“What are you doing here?” I shot back. “Won’t you give me a moment’s peace?” She held her hands up in surrender. I leant back against the brick wall of the building that bordered the playing field. I was waiting for Y/N to come out so we could get lunch, but look who decided to ruin my day.

“I’m not here to see you or Y/N, if that makes you feel better,” she answered.

“Then why are you here?” I asked. I had become curious, even if I didn’t want to admit it.

She shrugged. “None of your business. You’re waiting for Y/N, aren’t you? There she is.” I turned towards the field and saw her exiting the fenced boundaries, but she wasn’t alone. With a twinge of irritation, I registered the lean form of Taeyong, captain of the ­­soccer team. I waved at Y/N, but she didn’t seem to notice me. They were close enough, talking animatedly, and then closer and closer, and then….they completely passed by, not even bothering to spare me a glance. What the heck?

“What is he doing with her?” I muttered angrily, jealously surging up within me, an insatiable urge to rip Taeyong limb from limb.

“Give it a rest, Jaehyun.” ZIya’s voice floated to my ears, temporarily removing me from my thoughts of putting a bullet through Taeyong’s head. “You’re doing the same thing.”

“What thing?” I responded shortly, still iffed at being ignored.

“You’re mad at Taeyong.”

Of course I’m mad at Taeyong—“What? Why would I be mad at him?” Look at him, trying to chat her up like….Jesus, I need to warn her about him—

She snapped her fingers in front of my face, bringing my attention back to her. “Same reason that you don’t like me.” I looked at her; the undertones in her voice had not gone unnoticed. “You’re so possessive of Y/N. You don’t want anyone else but yourself with her.”

Her expression seemed so forlorn that I felt bad. “Ziya, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—“ She stopped me.

“It’s okay.” She smiled. “I won’t deny that I tried hard to get her away from you, too.”

I nodded. “Oh, these are her notes. Give them to her, will you?”

The awkward silence fell. I let out a breathy chuckle when I remembered what happened in Economics. “Did you know that Y/N thought I liked you because we’re always arguing?”

She cracked a small smile. “Yeah, she’s mentioned it a couple times, but you’re not really my type much. No offense.” She brushed her hair aside. “Besides, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Y/N is the one you have a crush on. You act like it.” Her face lit up, evidently having seen something behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Taeil, one of our seniors walk over. “See you around, Jaehyun.” With a dazzling smile, she linked arms with him and the two walked off.

I was confused. I act like I have a crush on Y/N? Impossible. I don’t like her that way, do I? Is that how people see us?

The rest of the day passed in a daze. I didn’t have any more classes with Y/N, but my thoughts were on her. I won’t deny that I’ve imagined it. What it would be like as her boyfriend. But she’s made it pretty clear that I’m friendzoned! Hasn’t she been trying to set me up with Ziya? That must mean she doesn’t see me that way, right?

 -

After scrawling down a few sentences to pass off as an essay for tomorrow’s English class, I lay sprawled across my bed, absently thumbing through my phone. A post in particular caught my eye. tristful19 back at it, huh?

Well, today was a better day! I won’t name names (duh) but one of my friends was pretty nice to me…I wonder if he likes anyone. I won’t deny that I might like him—I did have a tiny crush on him sometime last year….I think I’m not over it yet. He’s attractive, I’ll give him that.

Sometimes I wonder, is it the trail of a dove?

the perfume of a flower? or a hint of love?

 Well. If that didn’t make me feel worse, then I don’t know what did. I knew I was being silly, getting upset at the newfound lovelife of a blogger who could be anywhere (as if I even had a chance), but it did. I was disappointed, but still, happy for her in a way. My mind was preoccupied, Ziya’s words ringing in my head. What am I feeling right now? I’m not jealous of Taeyong, am I? Why should I be?

“I like Y/N as a friend,” I said aloud.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, buddy.”

I shot up in bed, head hitting the edge of my desk. Eyes watering in pain, I managed to spit out, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Mark, a classmate of mine from the room across the hall, waltzed into the room as I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress, rubbing my head.

“Bro, chill, I just needed at clean towel.” He flitted to the wardrobe, knowing where everything was already. “It’s Johnny’s turn to do the laundry and the idiot forgot.” I stood up, arms crossed. “Hey, don’t lend Johnny anything, okay? He needs to learn a lesson.”

“What—what were you saying about Y/N?” I tried to make it sound as if I was only asking casually, but Mark saw right through it. He peeked out from behind the wardrobe door and flashed me a sly smile. My face flushed. I could feel my ears turning red again.

“Dude, you clearly don’t see her as just a friend,” he began, still rummaging through my clothes. “It’s so obvious.”

“What’s obvious?”

“From the way you look at her. It’s obvious that you like her. Everyone thinks so. Even Taeyong came to ask me whether you two were dating or not.”

Fury rose in me. “Taeyong? Why?”

“I think he’s going to ask her out. I don’t know.”

It was like a slap to the face. “What?! And what did you say?”

“I told him you weren’t.” He found a towel and tossed it over his shoulder. “Why are you upset? I thought you only saw her as a friend.”

“Mark…” I growled.

“Bro, you’re in denial. Suck it up and go ask her out.” With a final toss of his head and a smirk, he let himself out the door. What the heck, Mark. You can’t just say stuff like that and then leave.

I took my phone and rapidly typed away, creating a new post.

How do you know whether someone likes you is a question that Google has seen too often. But how do you know whether you like someone? My heart isn’t answering that question.

 -

 —Y/N POV—

I went to class the next day, feeling a little subdued, for two reasons. One was the fact that bubblegun-dimples hadn’t replied to my post and I felt silly for feeling so attached to them. The second was the conversation I had with Taeyong the previous day.

Once he had walked me to the mess hall near my dorm, I’d paused  because I felt that he had chatted all this way to say something important. I wasn’t wrong.

“Y/N, I know this might sound a little forward, but…” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “w-would you want to go out with me sometime?”

Oh. Oh. “I…I don’t really know, Tae, it’s—“

“Is it Jaehyun?” He interrupted abruptly. My jaw dropped.

“J-Jaehyun?” I stammered. “Oh, you know him?”

“Yeah.” Taeyong shrugged. “Best shooting guard on the basketball team I’ve ever seen.” After a pause, he repeated his question. “Is it because of Jaehyun? You guys are together or something?”

“What?” I yelped. “No. We’re not together. I just….” I trailed off. “Where did you hear that we were together?”

He gave a non-committal jerk of the head. “It’s not very subtle, is it? It’s obvious from the way he acts that he’s whipped for you.”

I didn’t know what to say. “Tae, maybe you’re mistaken. We’re not dating. And I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel that way about you.” I grimaced apologetically. “Sorry. I’ll think about it.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured, putting on a smile. “Good luck for your track events next month!” He flashed me a thumbs-up and ducked under the door of the mess hall.

Coming back to the present, I sat down next to Jaehyun for English class, Taeyong’s words echoing in my ears. Is it Jaehyun? It’s obvious from the way he acts that he’s whipped for you…

I glanced sideways at Jaehyun, who seemed distant as well. I drew my courage. Dude, it’s just Jae! Your best guy friend, come on! I nudged him with my elbow. He winced.

“Something wrong?” I asked. He shook his head, his dark locks falling onto his forehead. I pressed further. “She broke up with you?” He scoffed at me.

“No, she likes someone else.”

Oh, the poor kid. “Aw, tough luck, buddy. Things will be alright in the end.” I patted his back sympathetically.

 -

 —Jaehyun POV—

I didn’t know how I was still sitting there with her. For all I knew, she was Taeyong’s new girlfriend and I had totally blown my chance with her. Did I like her? I guess so. What else could explain what I felt?

“Jaehyun-ssi, if you could please read your essay, we could proceed with the class.” The professor’s sharp tone brought me out of my reverie. I glanced regretfully at the few sentences I’d scribbled in my notebook. I sighed.

“I didn’t do it, ma’am.”

The professor pursed her lips. “I thought so. Y/N, please read yours.”

She stood up, the hem of her shawl brushing against my face, setting my insides on fire. What is even happening to me?? I tried my hardest to focus on what she was saying, knowing nothing other than the theme was on the forsaken lovers, Romeo and Juliet. But the sweet lilt of her voice was making it too hard for me to understand what the words were. I was only picturing the mesmerizing movements of her lips. But then she was ending the essay.

“The taste of his lips, the touch of his skin, gave her the feeling of something akin

and she wondered, is it the trail of a dove? the perfume of a flower? or a hint of love?”

My blood froze. The first thing I thought was, she stole that. The second was, Y/N wouldn’t steal. That means…

The class burst into applause and I joined in, two seconds too late. She sat down, face blushing in pleasure.

I leaned over to her and snatched her notebook away from her. Skimming the neat print, my heart jumped into my throat. “You wrote this yourself?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

I pointed to the couplet. “Even this?”

“Of course. What do you take me for? A thief?”

So it’s her? She’s tristful19? How? What—My eyes ran down her writing again and it struck me. When she talked, it wasn’t as noticeable, but….her writing style is so similar.

I handed the book back to her wordlessly. She tucked it into her bag.

“What did Taeyong say yesterday?” I suddenly questioned.

She glanced over at me in surprise. “Oh. He was…asking me out.”

“And what did you say?” I continued more forcefully.

“I told him I would think about it.”

“Don’t.”

Her eyebrows disappeared into her windswept hair. “Why?”

“He’s not right for you.” My palms were sweating. My heart was pounding. Jae, what have you done now?

“What are you talking about, Jae?” she finally snapped, losing her cool. “If you have something to say, say it instead of beating around the bush.”

I stared at her, eyes digging deeper and deeper into hers, absorbing the beautiful color. I remembered the post the night before and my heart sank. So she does like Taeyong. You’ve got no chance, Jae.

I sat straight. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

 -

I avoided her the rest of the day, mind too far gone to have any peace.

A ding from my phone later that night told me, by instinct, that there was a new post from her. Can you believe it? She’s tristful19? I opened the post.

It’s so frustrating! For the longest time, I’ve had a crush on one of my closest friends and since the past week, people are telling me that he likes me, too. I even turned down a guy on a date yesterday for him! And today, in English class? He was so close. Staring at me the whole time. I searched his eyes but I can’t tell….I was so sure that he was going to tell me that he likes me, but…*sigh*. I’m waiting so long for him to say it first, but I guess I might have to take charge now.

Oh, how I wish for a world in black and white

no grey, no confusion; just what’s wrong and what’s right.

 My heart began to pound. I read the text again and again. English class? ….one of my closest friends…turned down a guy….

“Me,” I whispered, unable to believe it. “She was talking about me.” My fingers hovered over my keypad uncertainly.

maybe he doesn’t know that you like him

The reply was almost instantaneous. not for long

My heart clenched. if he knows, what would you want him to do?

I waited for her response, heartbeat rising in tempo. My phone dinged. run to my door right now, in the dead of night and say it

I couldn’t think straight anymore. I grabbed my jacket, shoved on my shoes and bolted, without even bothering to close the door.

The cold night air was sharp, it stung and woke me up like nothing else. I pulled on my denim jacket as I sprinted across the freshly cut lawns lit only by the moonlight. The wind ripped through my hair and elation filled me to the brim. I thought I would burst. The campus seemed timeless as I dashed across it, not tiring, not stopping for even a moment.

I forced my way through the door to the girls’ dorm and raced upstairs to the third floor. Within a second, I was in front of her door. I drew in a deep breath, vaguely aware that the warden had awoken. I knocked.

 -

 —Y/N POV—

I heard a knock at the door and I looked up from my laptop, confused. Who would be knocking at this hour? Maybe it was Lisa from down the hall. I lifted myself up, cracking my aching joints and pried open the door.

My mouth fell open. “J-Jae?”

He was gorgeous. I saw him every day, but nothing could have prepared me for this sight. He was out of breath, his firm chest heaving up and down. His hands were planted on the doorframe. His favourite denim jacket hung off one shoulder over his thin white t-shirt. He looked at me through his hooded eyes and I felt my heart contract.

I found my voice. “Jae, are you okay? What—“

“I love you.”

The rest of my sentence evaporated. “What?” I asked faintly.

He let himself inside the room and closed the door. “I. Love. You.”

Realization dawned on me. “Bubblegum-dimples? You’re—“ I was cut off by his lips.

Kissing Jaehyun was better than anything I could have imagined. The second his lips met mine, a jolt of desire ran through me. His lips were dry but I couldn’t care less. They fit against mine perfectly as if they were made for each other. His hands snaked into my hair and drew me closer to him. My arms found their way around his waist, pulling him impossibly near.

His tongue swiped against my bottom lip and I gasped, breaking the kiss.

He bumped noses. “To be fair, I didn’t know you were tristful19 until today either.” He pressed his lips against mine in a chaste kiss. I buried my face into his chest.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he murmured beside my ear.

“Why do you even have to ask?” He stroked the side of my face. We were rudely interrupted by a brief shout from downstairs. I jumped.

“It’s the dragon,” I whispered. “You should go, it’s late.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” he asked as I opened the door and looked both ways.

I smiled, kissing him briefly. “Of course.”

He grinned, dimples on display and then disappeared into the darkness. I closed the door with a snap, leaning against it, unable to stop my giddy smile. Bliss coursed through me.

Before I slept that night, I made sure that bubblegum-dimples saw my latest post. It wasn’t much, but it told him what I wanted to say.

The sun and the moon may never meet, they hide from each other in fear—

but twice upon a time, fate draws them in; the inevitable eclipse is near.

 -

fin.