#in little bitty fragments

[aethernoise]

Beyond Word or Measure |Ch7: Theirs

“Is this truly happening?” Aymeric wondered aloud, only half-jokingly, "Are you truly here?"

Alyx’s response was said with a smile but tinged with a distant trepidation. “Feels a bit too good to be true, doesn’t it?”

1062 Words, Rated M. 🌟 Read it here! 🌟 

(art is by @/peachiqiqi)

[cubbihue]

i kinda feel bad for changeling timmy. like i know hes made of like magic and stuff but like... the turners still suck even if hes not a human kid. and hes gotta deal with all the other insane bs from timmys life like vicky and crocker. at least he seems accomplished with life? i want him to have good things and also i want him to raise hell

Timmy is very accomplished with his life! Look! He's moving away from home now! Away from everybody he knows, his friends, his family, and all the fragmented, contradictory little memories that came with them....

Off to better things! Better! Away from all that noise now!! Good job Timmy Turner!

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[mishy-mashy]

Probably not gonna match with when this comes out translated, but still—just a few things I liked about BNHA 423

WE GOT TO SEE THE VESTIGES AGAAAAINNNNN!!! HI BRUCE!

I think Bruce gets a lot of bad angles. This is an example (but it's okay honey, you're still hot stuff)

Unfortunately, I have a favorite. It's Bruce. The most Normal Guy™ in the vestige line up. And the special-est sopping wet cat for Kudo ever (Yoichi is a dry cat because at least Kudo remembered to take Yoichi inside).

The vestiges were all gearing for a punch, but Tomura/Tenko is reaching out.

The rest of the users usually use OFA to punch, is the general idea we see. But Tomura/Tenko's Quirk isn't that.

Tomura/Tenko reaching his hand out to grab, and the vestiges readying a punch—it's their ways of putting the hurt on.

And Tomura/Tenko knows what happens if he puts his fingers on someone. He was aiming for AFO's head too. Guy was pissed.

I like that the vestiges look like they're crawling out of hell (or the depths) here. Technically for OFA itself, which they embody, being in AFO's realm was hell. It meant they failed their collective goals to win against AFO, and keep OFA [Yoichi] out of his possession

Also, they're all embers of who they once were. If Factors embodied their personalities, these embers are the leftovers of that embodiment. Their eyes are blank.

And even when they're only shattered fragments of themselves, they came for AFO to take him down.

They really embodied that purpose. Even as husks of themselves, or sad leftovers that scattered from their destroyed Factors, they still reached forward to clock AFO one last time.

They were that determined, and that determination was all that was left of them.

Meanwhile, with Yoichi, his itty bitty remains continued trying to talk sense into his brother till the end.

Yoichi has such a bleeding heart. But he also loved his brother.

AFO is standing in the dark. But in that dark, there's a light. It's Yoichi, as if he were the light at the end of the tunnel.

AFO chased OFA for decades, and ruined a lot of lives, just to have Yoichi by his side again.

Joining hands with Garaki; killing Banjo, En, Nana; forcing the creation and upbringing of Tenko; the whole Shimura incident; everything he did to UA and the Aoyamas to get close to the wielder of OFA [Yoichi]. He did all that, and more.

He just wanted the chance to have Yoichi with him again. That was his purpose in obtaining OFA this whole time.

Yoichi was AFO's light at the end of the tunnel.

Too bad for AFO, the light at the end of the tunnel was an oncoming train.

Yoichi is telling AFO what happened, but I love that in front of Yoichi, AFO became himself. I mean, not a mass of scar tissue, but who he originally looked like

Idk, there's just something symbolic about it?

Midoriya calls AFO a lonely man. And Yoichi comes to him, and AFO says he wants Yoichi by his side. He wouldn't be lonely if that were the case. Yoichi could make him not lonely anymore.

And the lonely man, a bundle of scar tissue from his warpath to see Yoichi again, reverts to a time he had no injuries or scars. He looks like the period of time where he and Yoichi lived in the same era.

In front of Yoichi, he's just.. himself, I guess is how to put it. Not a mass of scar tissue, or the evil villain everyone feared: he's literally just Yoichi's "Nii-san".

It's like, the scar tissue shed itself to reveal AFO's true face.

He wants to see Yoichi's face, and ended up showing his own without even meaning or thinking to.

He's finally looking straight at Yoichi, trying to see his face. It's not like when Yoichi was alive, when AFO always looked down on him, and just waited for him to bend to his will.

Now, AFO has little time left with Yoichi, and he's lost his composure for it, wanting to see Yoichi as more than an ember. But maybe he got to the point he only ever saw Yoichi for his Factor, rather than the Factor for Yoichi: how often has he said he was chasing One For All, instead of his younger brother?

AFO wanted to see Yoichi's face, but when he saw Yoichi next to Kudo... yeah, he lost his mind a bit there. Probably (Definitely?) because he saw Kudo's Ability, and Kudo with Yoichi. And Kudo is "to blame for everything".

Maybe he lost it seeing Kudo and Yoichi together, because it was a repeat of the past, I suppose?

(Technically, he did see Yoichi's face one last time already. Just that he also saw the bastard Kudo's face again too. And AFO did not like that.)

[bunningchaos]

Ngl I e been following your blog for a hot minute now but I'm still CONFUSLED

I was hoping I would eventually understand what's going on after following for a while but I'm still lost 😭

Could you give me a brief recap of the comic plzzz

Truthfully, Latent Blossom really only started with something silly

Mainly due to this guy

Nightmare is the first that can be interacted with, he show little to no interest in the figure (voters)

Seemingly having some kind of trauma that is given as information and also triggered. Albeit unintentionally

These two are the second newest to join

The story drastically shift to have control of Cross, instead of the figure. Once they come into play

It's still uncertain who the other Nightmare is, maybe just a fragment of Cross' imagination, or more. Since he's the only one capable of talking to him and vice versa

Then there's this last one.

He's an annoying lil shithead that appears to have some kind of unspecified grudges against Cross. Especially before his death

TLDR:

Cross presumably can return back in time after his death, or so it's shown so far that things are 'back to normal'

(Before he approached Nightmare)

Otherwise.

Things are simply going downhill because the bitties are all alone in the house, where there's still a possible intruder (You) and Killer is completely unhinged and willing to kill others in cold blood.

PS, the flowers all symbolize something and can be related to the characters in itself

...

You can probably tell this is a huge mess that I'm trying to work on

[unnervinglyferal]

So my dad is disabled and has chronic back pain that he occasionally takes high-powered painkillers for.

Yesterday, at the crack of dawn, he sent me a text message asking me to bring him one.

As I was getting one for him, I accidentally dropped a tablet onto the floor, and it instantly fractured on impact.

So I was up at six in the morning, crawling around on my hands and knees looking for little itty-bitty pill fragments (which are the exact same color as our kitchen floor, might I add) so our dog wouldn't find them whilst scrounging and go on a bad trip.

By the end of it my hands were all nasty, I was tired, and my knees were killing me.

Today at dinner I told my mom about my early-morning scavenger hunt, and she looked me dead and the eyes and said "You know we have a broom and dustpan right over there, right?"

And I looked at her like

Oh fuck you poor fucker. But obviously you weren't thinking sharp right then.

[brandwhorestarscream]

How icy, hothead and random behaves in relation to the their sparkling?

Since they have different behaviors?

At their core, they all have the same love for the bitty. They want to protect and care for them, to shield them from harm and make sure they grow up safe and healthy. Their individual interactions are different, but all rooted in the same feelings.

Icy is the one that deals with the most difficult parts of parenting--teaching good communication and responsibility, sleepless nights wherein bean can't sleep, cleaning up messes, that sort of thing. He's always patient with them, never snaps or raises his voice. He's typically the voice of reason amongst the three fragments of his personality, so he's the one that primarily deals with the formative, teachable moments.

Hothead is more like... an awkward, kinda standoffish dad. He holds the baby very, very carefully; tho cybertronian newborns are much hardier than human babies, they're still just a baby. They don't have any armor. Their protoform is delicate. He's silently worried about hurting them, so handles them with the utmost care. He doesn't let anyone get too close, and he's oddly the most protective parent. He can be pretty surly, but watches the kid like a hawk, and never, ever yells at them in a malicious way. Almost every word out of his mouth is shouted, but he never says anything cruel to the baby, never yells at them because he's angry. Will absolutely get into brawls if someone so much as looks at the kid funny

And Random, finally, is somehow the most prepared parent. No matter the situation, he always has exactly what they need, if only because he's a staunch hoarder collector of any and everything he can get his servos on. Kid needs bandages? Got it. Kid needs snacks? Got it. Kid has lost their favorite toy? Got it, third door on the left, under the desk. He's like the parent with a diaper bag that weighs 50 pounds and somehow has like 4 months worth of apocalypse prep in it. He's ready for anything, no matter how nonsensical the situation may be. He's also the "fun parent", the one that will go above and beyond to make the baby laugh, will play with them like he's still a little kid himself, and whenever they need to tucker out the bitty to make them go down for a nap, Random's on it.

[vellichorom]

@degenerate-gremlin-blog​ replied to your post. 

What's a bitty?

oh boy. SO- allow me to indulge you in a small fragment of fandom history ( i guess )

WELCOME TO THE UNDERTALE FANDOM OF 2015-16; if you were at all involved with the popular fandom AU blogs / circles of the time & you had a favorite character IN these fandom spaces ( lots of sans & papyruses as the top figureheads from what all i could see ), you could technically “ adopt “ them through the form of a “ bitty! “

“ a BITTY! “ you eagerly declare, albeit very confused, “ now, what is a ‘ bitty? ‘ “

from what i can remember based on experience -- don’t quote me on this as it’s OFFICIAL definition, but a bitty was like... a smaller, tinier, slightly dumber “ pet “ version of whatever character you liked & wanted to “ adopt “ from; just a little Thing you could take care of & interact with, & have interact with your home, life, work, other pets, or even other bitties you could adopt of other characters--  THIS all in a fictional, roleplay fashion, of course. it was one mass roleplay. but, a dedicated fictional, roleplaying fashion nonetheless! a lot of times, bitties included little references & lists from the sources of the original character or the bitty adjacent creator ( often times the same person ), instructing their potential “ owners “ how best to take care of them, what requirements are needed, a bitty character’s likes & dislikes, etc.

& you’d see people drawing their little adopted blorbos ( not yet named blorbos at the time ) roaming around their houses, playing or getting the shit beat out of them by other bitties, & everyone & their mom played around with the idea of these little character pets, describing how they lived their lives alongside their bitties & such. i remember creators getting bomBARDED with “ updates “ of the life & times of these little bitties, or requests to adopt one EVERY SINGLE DAY if you were popular enough for everyone to want a fractal of your character to play around with themselves,

IT WAS... interesting. an interesting concept during an interesting time. & still, i have no idea if this leaked out into other fandoms or- hell, even other CHARACTERS in the mass undertale au universe. probably & i just wasn’t paying attention. i missed out on a nice little chara bitty :( /silly

TDLR ;; “ bitties “ were/are like a pet version of your favorite character that you cared for in a pretend / roleplay fashion; a concept that originated(?) / is primarily prominent in the undertale fandom

& any & all that i adopted back in my time would be LONG dead by now. as well they should be.

[spawnofthedivine]

rant on our formation and brain stuff :3c

imagine you separated a tree from half of itself and watched as the both grew into fully grown and whole, separate trees. now, do that a couple dozen more times, and you have a shit ton of trees. this is our system.

the tree thing is actually a little different from our experience because we do not split (or, we used to, but we dont anymore), we form members. so: our brain really just.. spawns a tree out of nowhere, whether or not its a fragment of a tree, it was made from nothing. imagine one day walking into your front yard and seeing a redwood tree in the middle of the street. this is what its like for a member to front approximately .5 seconds after their formation with a complete personality, memories, opinions, etc.

inserting our itty bitty theory about our brain being weirdly conscious here: our brain just.. goes buck wild with forming members. it sees things different members like or are interested in, and forms them a whole conscious being JUST TO FULFILL whatever it thinks that member needed, regardless if they actually wanted it to be fulfilled or not. we are VERY opposed to treating our members as just their "intended" roles or traits, so we completely ignore the reason they formed and instead accept them as whatever they want to be, which sometimes is the thing they were formed from, and sometimes its not. yes, we do get a tad bit mad or frustrated at our brain for doing this too much.

some examples of forming and being content/okay with what they formed for: spyte was formed to be the primary host after middle school in order to give us a fresh start on existing outside of a traumatizing situation, and theyre STILL our primary host. nev formed and took over most system functions (including fronting) for a period of time while we were being abused when we were trying to get our GED. this was so spyte could take a break and act normal during the time the abuse wasnt actively happening. both of them are a-ok with what they formed for! spyte doesnt care too much for being the host, but they prefer to be aware of our collective decisions and sharing information with the rest of us, so its the best fitting role they could get! and nev is still our gatekeeper. he doesnt see front very often, but he works behind the scenes and keeps us feeling safe and secure during stressful or retraumatizing situations.

example of someone hating what they were made for: hollow. they fucking hate being an anger holder. NOT a good experience for them. we feel a lot of anger just from their passive influence, so the rest of us can only imagine actually being them.

pebbles and five dont mind what they were made for, which was to fulfill our desire for friends and social connection related to our hyperfixation at the time/now special interest (?).

monk doesnt really mind either, in fact they kindof like it! its a fun experience for them to share positivity and such!!!

brain empty after this many words 💔 thats all, folks

[pinkopalina]

things about higurashi that just hit different after you've watched everything a few times: (major spoilers lol)

the way mion has to play shion and the way shion has to play mion. true-shion is so soft and gentle and got SUCH A RAW FUCKING DEAL!!! the way she took her older sister's role and it was an accident! the way they switched later in life so their personalities were set when "mion" got the tattoo! the way "mion" is a tomboy who has a cute side but that's just because she's shion! the way true-mion plays shion as a sweet soft lady SO WELL but then gets SO HARDENED bc she's so crass and has that attitude. i feel like true-shion has a harder time playing mion than true-mion has playing shion lol.

the way gou has two whole arcs with a different perspective and then the second season, sotsu, completely spins both of them on their heads because satoko was a secret looper the whole time. the way it makes you question if satoko was secretly a looper in higurashi 2006!!! the way it was always aliens, always, from the start, so it makes you wonder how far in advance some of these plot twists have been planned. the way every time they release a new iteration in japan, they change something, so you're experiencing countless loops the way rika does. hundreds of the exact same event but sometimes itty bitty little things change.

the way everyone starts remembering their old timelines. the way i WONDER if they could all ever become loopers some day!!! let rena loop!!! AAAAAAAA

the way rena knows the truth and tells you it's aliens but she sounds crazy so you never believe her. the way they tell you everything at the end of higurashi 06 but they're unreliable narrators bc they don't know the truth and they call the aliens demons. gooooooddddddddddddddddddd

the way satoko endlessly tortures rika because the in-canon reason is . fuck how do i even explain umineko. or ciconia. i havent even experienced those things but i know the author of higurashi has like 5 different works that are all converging universes, so satoko and rika in higurashi are lambdadelta (satoko) and frederika (hehe. rika) bernkastle in umineko and lambda is a witch and she used her powers to change universes bc of her obsession with rika (bernkastle) bc she's still just as competitive and manipulative there and it's crazy like ITS FUCKING CRAZY.

i cant even think a sentence ahead and ryu07 is out here thinking like 2 decades in advance

THE WAY THE WATANAGASHI FESTIVAL IS BEFORE SATOKO'S BIRTHDAY. HER BIRTHDAY IS JUNE 24!!!! SO RIKA CONSTANTLY DIES A DAY OR TWO BEFORE HER BEST FRIEND'S BIRTHDAY, OVER AND OVER AGAIN. HOW MANY TIMELINES DO WE KNOW ARE DOOMED BECAUSE WE NEVER GET TO HER BIRTHDAY! THE WAY THE STORY IS ABOUT CHILD ABUSE. IF SATOKO ISN'T OKAY THEN NOBODY IS OKAY. AND SHE'S NOT OKAY BC WE FAILED CHILDREN!!! IM FUCKED UP

the way the story and perspective changes between arcs, so you're just as confused as the characters are. the way some of them remember some things over time so it's not just the fragmented world that starts converging, it's also the worlds within those fragments. something fucking HUGE is gonna happen in higurashi i just know it

the way satoko is angry with rika for leaving her, and uses their friends as a reason rika shouldnt leave, but satoko murders her friends and doesnt care when the friends she doesnt murder get left behind and have a ton of traumatic cosmic debt because theyve been sole survivors for hundreds of years. the way satoko is a total hypocrtie but she does want to stop at some point but she cant because of lambda. god im torn over this

[chancedarling]

As Chance is not entirely sure what Puppy looked like before he was so inconveniently mauled, he can't make much of a comparison to how he looks now... But he's certainly lacking the vibrant virtriol of their first encounter. No snap or bark or bite to be found anywhere. In fact very few words at all... Perhaps the island had humbled him somewhat (Chance very much doubts that), or perhaps he is actually just as fucking knackered as he looks. Because he does look rough. Dark circles beneath his eyes. A wearied listlessness to his movements... Perhaps a side effect from pouring all that jumbo-healing-juice into Chance.

The guy looks like absolute shite to be honest.

Interesting.

As Puppy finally rights himself though, conceding only fractionally to take Chances hand - Chance himself (feeling as though he'd just had a major caffeine infusion or something, buoyant and practically bouncing on his toes) is keeping something of a wan eye on their surroundings. Giant furry with big teeth and claws wasn't something he really wanted to meet again.

"I'm really alright."

He replies, this time carefull enough to keep his voice low. Now that the initial adrenalin was starting to wane and the sheer joy of not being mashed up into itty bitty kitty chow was settling in as the closest fucking shave ever, a partial caution was now very present.

"Reckon I could tackle a marathon about now but..."

He looks at the other. He clearly wouldn't keep up... Wasn't there a joke about the two guys in the forest who came upon a cheetah, one changes to his gym shoes and his friend whispers, you can't outrun a cheetah. To which gym shoe fella replies, no, but I only have to outrun you. And the wry implication of that wasn't lost on Chance in the slightest. He could, quite easily, abandon puppy to a nasty, painful fate - but that might be rather less fun than finding out more about this juicy little power of his.

But. You can't. It's on the tip of his tongue. However, Chance is the nice guy, remember? He's the caring, sharing gleaming star of altruism in this arsehole of a place. So he curbs the next words. Swerves what he wants to say for something that might allow the other to keep a tiny fragment of whatever excuse for pride he had in tact.

"...I'm pretty sure that when you're faced with a predator like that, you're not supposed to run. Because that just marks you as prey, y'know? Triggers something... Animal stuff. I dunno. Anyway. Running, not a good idea if it's still got eyes on us."

Puppy looks like he's just about to crumble on the spot, so Chance doesn't even ask before he's linking one arm through the others like they're about to promenade at some kind of formal... It might at least keep him on his feet for now.

"C'mon. Slow and quiet. Bears! That was it. Don't run from bears. Or dogs. Basically anything that can bite your face off."

Chance shrugs, but he's turning and setting a pace. Not a rapid one. Making sure to keep his stride as long as possible while being quiet underfoot.

"C'mon, lets get the hell out of dodge."

If the power hadn’t been given to Chance, he would’ve probably thought it was amazing. But nothing about any of it seemed to make sense. Not to him at least. Why someone like Chance? Because he’d needed it. Clearly it seemed incredibly new to him as well, he seemed in shock, eager to get out of the situation and think about it later. 

And Adarsh was tired. Exhausted. 

He wanted to lay down and rest, but not with a tiger out there. Not with Chance grasping at him, their faces near. A face he’d seen pull back to bleakness earlier, taking on a colour that wasn’t healthy, now bright again. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, unable to voice more. His face still contorted in confusion, and relief. Because the worst case scenarios hadn’t happened: the other had survived. Meaning Adarsh didn’t have to worry about becoming an antagonist because he’d been present as the second person on the island died. 

He didn’t want to accept the hand of the person who’d just regenerated, but he found that he couldn’t get up on his own. He needed the hand, his whole body felt so lacking in energy that he wondered if he’d even make it back. 

He used it to get back to his feet, his shirt and his tank top still in his hand, clutched against the naked skin of his chest, wet with blood. He blinked a few times as he fought the chill going through his body at his own exhaustion. He was going to sleep like a rock for sure when he got back. He wasn’t even sure if he had it in him to discuss this with Chance later. 

Maybe that was how it worked: in order for the other to heal, he needed someone’s energy. 

Or the fact that Adarsh hadn’t slept or eaten enough the last few days and used up all his adrenaline to chase the tiger-like creature off explained that. 

He touched a hand to Chance’s shoulder. The wounds really were gone. 

And at least they both looked odd without shirts on. 

“You’re really alright?” he asked, before he was able to start walking, his voice was low. “Can you run?” he asked. As if he could run himself. 

[sweetsweetjellybean]

This one's for you @boomhauer

Black

Eddie Munson x FemReader Inspired by Black by Pearl Jam

TW: Very Dark. Tiny itty bitty baby smut. Selfharm, violence, death, & just over all angst and sadness.

Special thanks to @loveshotzz for keeping me off the ledge

>>>>

The sky is streaked with the pink and orange of the setting sun as you turn your car's wheels off the pavement to the dirt and gravel road that leads to the old warehouse that serves as your studio. Your gloved hand stabs the key in the lock, and the rusty metal door groans as you force it open. The lights come on with a thud after you flip the switch just inside the doorway. You remove all your clothes except your velvet opera gloves before selecting one of Eddie's shirts that hang on a metal clothing rack. Slipping it over your head, you tie up your hair before moving further into the nearly empty space. The swinging lights above create shadows that move back and forth slowly over the blank canvas in the center of the room. Your toes dig into the softness of the old carpet stained with drops and splatters of dried paint. Patiently you wait for your brain to settle on an image that will soon flow from your fingers, from the brush, from the paint to the canvas recreating the nightmares that still control you. 

The wind moans and whistles as it pushes through the cracks in the drafty walls. The lights flicker, breaking your concentration. The power frequently goes out in the remote building, but when you have nothing to lose, you're not afraid of things that reside in the dark. You peel off your gloves and toss them to the floor before striking a match to light the candles scattered around the room, sitting on top of stacked crates that double as a work surface holding pots of paint and framed photographs of you and Eddie. 

Your agent often bemoans that you choose to work here, offering to set you up in a lovely space in the city. She doesn't understand your need for solitude or why she has to act as a bodyguard at your art exhibitions. Never letting anyone get too close. Answering questions directed to you, like the mother of a shy child. You hate the crowds of people that treat you like a curiosity, the fragile, mentally ill girl that hides her hands and creates dark otherworldly paintings. But these remoras pay top dollar and come away with a little story of your odd behavior to tell their friends while showing off the art they think owning makes them cool and sophisticated.

The candlelight reflects off the glass covering the photographs. Eddie's face is beautiful and smiling but looking at him triggers the screams in your head. The screams from the day six years ago when you lost him. They are becoming louder and louder. Pressing your hands over your ears, you lie down on the floor and curl into a little ball. Tears stream down your face as you plead for it to stop. Flashes of blood and death fill your mind, you're breathing faster, but the air isn't filling your lungs. Your eyes tunnel, and everything goes black. 

The cold from the concrete floor seeping through the thin rug pulls you back into consciousness. Your eyes blink open, and you sit up, causing your head to spin. The panic attacks happen a few times a week, and no amount of therapy or drugs makes a difference. Anything can trigger them, a child's laughter, the light bouncing off a glass, or a familiar smell. So you live alone, in the silence, in the black, counting the hours until you can join him. Standing, you pick up your brush dipping the soft bristles into the creamy red on your palate before moving it to canvas. Sometimes your fragmented mind will offer a brief reprieve from the horror. You'll blink and suddenly be in that open field, the soft overgrown grass curling around your knees as you sit cross-legged on the ground filling bottles with fuel next to Steve and Robin. Then he's there, his warm, rough hand pulling you up. 

"Cover us for a few minutes, Harrington," he calls back to Steve as he pulls you into the privacy of the woods. The tree bark scrapes your back as he presses against you, his frenzied mouth kissing every part of your face before sealing over your giggling lips. His tongue dips inside, and he hums out his pleasure. 

"I love you. You know that, don't you?" He asks, cradling your face in his hands.

"I do," you reply, trying to chase his lips.

"I hate that you're here. I wish you never got involved. That you were somewhere far away where I knew you were safe." Your hands fist the material of his shirt. "Haven't you figured it out yet? I would walk through hell as long as I was with you." His eyes close, and his lips are back on yours, stealing your breath and making you dizzy. Your fingers start to work open his belt. He lays out the blanket he nicked from the camper and folds his jacket under your head. Two sets of hands push down your jeans, his mouth is on your center, and his eyes never leave yours as he watches you come undone. 

"I love you," you sigh as he pushes inside, filling you up, and you're a stupid, stupid girl taking it for granted, not savoring the last moments you'll ever be complete again.

The brush glides furiously back and forth around the canvas before dipping into the purple, the white, the black. The colors mix to reveal the ugly grim nature of the Upside Down. Your hands are moving of their own accord as your mind slingshots back to when it all went bad and turned your world to black. 

Dustin is still. His head hangs down, hands covering his face. The four of you are running towards him, trying not to slip on the dead bats in your path. It isn't until he sees you and starts limping forward, arms outstretched, yelling, "No. Don't come any closer," that you notice Eddie's body on the ground. A scream rips out of your throat. Dustin's arms clamp around your waist, holding you back. 

"Stop. She doesn't need to see him like this. Steve, help me." But Steve is too shocked to act. The adrenaline courses through you, and you push Dustin as hard as possible, sending him to the ground. He yelps and clutches his already injured ankle. The others stop beside him, trying to find the source of his injury. 

Dropping to your knees, you pull Eddie into your lap, screaming and screaming. His beautiful, burnt-umber eyes are wide open, but the light is gone. The wounds on his chest are trickling blood, and you press hands against them, trying in vain to stop the flow.

"Eddie, wake up. You're okay. You're okay." You cry while your blood-covered hands smear more across his face. Hands cover your biceps from behind and begin to pull you away.

"We have to go."

"No. No. I can't leave him." You try using your body weight to pull out of Steve's hold. 

"He's gone. We can't stay here." The ground shakes under you. The other vine-covered trailers are groaning like they may collapse. He tightens his hold, and you keep screaming, trying to hold on to Eddie as he lifts you from the ground. Eddie's body is too heavy, you're not strong enough, and he slips through your hands back to the cold ground. You fight him. You fight as hard as you can. "Nancy, help me," Steve yells. She moves to your other side and grabs your flailing arm, using it to drag you toward the trailer.

"What's wrong with you? We can't leave him. I want to stay. Eddie!" 

They manage to get you to the trailer. Nancy loses her grip, and you grab hold of the chain link that's installed around the door. "Let go," Steve commands, trying to pull you inside. "I don't want to hurt you. Let go." He rips you away. The chain links jagged metal edges cut into your hands. He picks you up from the middle, forcing you inside. "Let me go," you scream, trying to grab anything you can. Your fingers wedge between the glass slats of the window as he carries you past the door. They crack and shatter, slicing your hands. The shards embed into your skin You squeeze your hands into tight fists, driving the glass deeper, mixing Eddie's blood with yours. Steve sets you down but keeps his hands on your shoulders. "You can't stay. You'll die too." He yells in your face. 

"I want to," you say calmly, dragging the glass stuck in your palms down your forearms to the back of your hands. "Stop it." Steve grabs your hands, trying to hold them away from your body. Nancy and Robin rush back into the room carrying more sheets they knotted together, throwing them through the gate. The boost up Dustin getting him through first. Steve drags you to the opening. "You're going. Climb!" 

"No," you scream, trying to escape. "Please!" Dustin yells from above you. "Please. Do it for him." Eddie's love for Dustin is the only reason you comply. It's the same reason you hate him later. Bitterly, you hate them all. You climb hand over hand, driving the glass deeper. 

Lighting flashes outside, startling you. Your hip bumps into the crate, knocking the photo frame to the floor. The black paint has spilled over the edge dripping onto the picture. A cry leaves your lips, and you dive for the photo. Grabbing a rag, you settle on the floor, wiping off the paint before it works its way under the edges of the protective glass. 

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you take in the terrible beauty you've created on the canvas. Your eyes scan the red clouds. You know he's there. He's always there. It wasn't until your first sold-out show that you noticed him. Walking through the gallery after everyone was gone, taking one last look before your paintings would all be gone. He caught your eye as you walked by, his face staring back at you mixed in with the clouds. You ran from painting to painting, finding him in all of them. If they hadn't already been sold, you would have never parted with them, but maybe that was what is meant to be, him living in someone else's sky, forever leaving you behind. Standing, you move closer to the painting, searching, searching. There he is, you smile, your scared fingers hovering over the wet paint. Now that you've found him, you can let him go until the next time.

Masterlist

[the7thcrow]

daisies

pairing: seonghwa x (fem) reader

summary: one last trip. that was what you wanted. to let yourself dream of your childhood sweetheart one final time, before closing that chapter of your life forever. however, the last thing you expected was for him to actually be there.

word count: 11.0k

genre: summer camp au. childhood friends to lovers. tooth-rotting fluff, like literally so so fluffy. the tiniest itty bitty fragment of angst.

warnings: overwhelming cuteness, adorable childhood flashbacks mixed with present day shenanigans, kissing, wooyoung being a servant of mischief.

rating: good for anyone :)

a/n: hi everyone! here’s my first ever ateez fic, and ofc it had to be for my bias because i’m whipped. i really hope you all enjoy, and as always, please don’t be afraid to send me an ask or message for some feedback if you do! 🥰

...

..

.

You miss the scent of daisies, even though you’ve long forgotten what they actually smell like. You imagine they are sweet, in the sort’ve way that all flowers seem to be, full of both pollen and growth. The smell is most likely nothing special. Nothing substantial. Certainly not something you should be fantasizing over, those little bright flowers weedling their way into almost all of your daydreams.

You may not remember what they truly smell like, but in your memory, daisies smell of summer. They smell of cabins and canoe rides, of soaked bathing suits and crackling fires.

They smelt of your childhood summer camp, the place in which they grew so fervently. Daisies would spring from every corner imaginable, lacing the forest floor, sneaking out of the cracks in the walking trail. Those little white petals would sometimes find themselves stuck in your hair, or at the bottoms of your shoes.

They are what you think of now, as you gaze out the car window in front of you, the familiar rolling hills and trees flashing by before your eyes. You wonder if they still grow there. You wonder if they still smell the same.

You wonder if they still smell like him.

  ~~~~

Day One.

“Welcome to Camp KQ.”

You look up at the sign you have just finished helping your brother set up, it’s freshly painted lettering slightly sloppy. The sign hangs in front of The Caf, a large building where all of your campers will have their meals and regroup in the mornings.

“You really couldn’t have made it look a little nicer?” You whine, turning to face the culprit of the sloppy handwriting with a frown.

“Oh come on,” Hongjoong, your older brother groans as he motions towards the sign with his hand. “It literally looks fine, you just have to quit being so picky.”

“I swear one of the kids could have done a better job than this,” you continue despite, or perhaps rather in light of his words.

“Well then maybe you should have waited to ask one of them instead,” he huffs, sticking his tongue out at you as he walks towards The Caf’s doors, picking up one of the many estranged boxes. The summer camp officially starts tomorrow morning, and you and the other counselors were already leaps and bounds behind schedule.

“Help me with some of these boxes, would you?” He asks before disappearing through the door.

“I will,” you breathe under your breath, before shifting your attention in the opposite direction, towards the forest. “You’ll just have to give me a minute.”

You jog towards the woods, running along the forest trail with a familiarity that surprises you. It has been years since you’ve been here. Four, to be exact. Yet, your feet practically move by themselves as you make your way towards the clearing you’re searching for.

When you arrive, it’s as if you never left. Sunlight peaks through the forest canopy in beams, sparkling as your fingers dance within them. You can hear a squirrel munching on an acorn in the distance, the faint buzz of bees flying around the many bushes and shrubs.

Most familiar of all, are the daisies.

They flood the meadow, causing the ground to appear far more white than green. An endless sea of peaceful nostalgia.

You pluck one of the flowers from the ground, twiddling it between your fingers and bringing it towards your nose. For a moment you hold it there, wondering if it will smell just as you remember, like the sweet and refreshing rush of summer. Or, then again, maybe it will simply be a flower.

But when you finally do breathe in, all you can smell is him. He who once picked them for you. He who sat with you in this very meadow. He who you’ve never stopped thinking about.

You laugh quietly, shaking your head and staring at your shoes. “This is stupid,” you say quietly, to nobody but yourself. You went here searching for a piece of him, a memory, and now that you have one, you feel nothing but loss.

That is, until you hear a voice call out from behind you.

“I’m sure it is, but I wish I knew what we’re talking about,” the voice says, the speaker's tone playful. You freeze, your entire body tensing at the sound. You know that voice. It’s a little deeper than you remember, slightly more husky with age, but you’d recognize it anywhere.

You turn around, seeing the voice’s owner lounged against a tree, sitting in the plush grass, holding a daisy in his mouth as if it were a strand of wheat. You’d somehow missed him when you’d rushed in.

“Seonghwa?” You breathe. He looks different than four years ago. His hair has grown out longer, a faded champagne colour compared to the jet black it used to be. He rises to his feet, and you can see that he now stands about a foot taller. Back then, you were about the same height as him, but now...

Now, as you run towards him, you have to jump in order to reach his shoulders, throwing your arms around him. He lets out a small “oof” of surprise as you collide into him, before beginning to laugh himself. He picks you up, spinning the two of you around once, entirely giddy.

“I take it, you're happy to see me too?” He asks, setting you down in front of him. His smile is contagious, and you find your own spreading wide across your lips.

“You think?” You laugh, your voice light and playful, laced with joyous disbelief. “I never thought...” You trail off, your mind blanking as you stare at him, completely and utterly shocked.

“You’d see me again.” He finishes for you, knowing exactly what you were going to say next. A small pang of guilt rushes through your chest, thinking about the last time the two of you saw each other. You are given no time to dwell on it however, as Seonghwa has already continued speaking.

“I saw your name on the list of counselors, and since this was always your favorite spot,  I had a feeling you might come here first,” Seonghwa says, motioning to the meadow of daisies in front of you. “I wanted to talk to you. To see you again, before all the busyness of the next week ensues.”

You feel the faintest hint of a blush lace your cheeks, and you hope he doesn’t notice. It’s overwhelming, how all these years have passed, he is still able to make your heartbeat a little too fast, the same way as it did way back when.

Seonghwa is an old friend. An old friend who you may or may not used to have an enormous, perhaps painfully obvious childhood crush on. An immense crush so earth-shattering that in the four years you’ve spent apart, he’s always been hiding away in the back of your mind, waltzing his way into your daydreams.

You’ve always done your best to try and push him back there. To keep him nestled in your mind as nothing but a fond memory of the past.

Recently, however, after moving back to your old hometown, this practice became infinitely more difficult. Everyday you thought about wandering back to your old childhood summer camp, to see if everything was still intact. To see if it was the same way the two of you had left it.

You suppose that’s why you came here, after all. One last glimpse of the past, to revel in your daydreams one final time, before closing a lock on that chapter of your life for good. A hint of long-awaited closure.

When crafting this plan however, you were not expecting for him to actually be there.

And maybe it’s stupid, but for some odd reason, it can’t help but feel like a sign. A sign that maybe, just maybe, you haven’t been simply wasting your time thinking about him all along.

“How have you been?” He asks, his eyes familiar in their warmth. “What have you been doing?”

“I’ve been alright. Listen Seonghwa, I’ve wanted to tell you-” you begin, wanting to explain to him what happened. Wanting him to understand why you never came back to the camp, all those years ago.

“Y/N, are you out here?” A voice calls from further down the path. “What the hell are you even doing? You didn’t help me with any of the stupid box-” Hongjoong stops in his tracks as his eyes settle on both you and Seonghwa, his mouth opening to say something but no words come out.

“H-hwa?” He says, a smile breaking across his shocked expression. “Holy shit, Hwa is that you?”

Your brother runs up to the boy, pulling him into a tight hug. “It’s been forever.”

“It really has,” Seonghwa replies before releasing it.

Hongjoong had also attended the summer camp with you when you were kids. He and Seonghwa, while not as close as the two of you had been, knew each other well.

“You’re taller than me now, what the fuck?” Hongjoong laughs, to which Seonghwa smiles, playfully shrugging his shoulders. You smile at the way your brother's eyes have litten up, his smile enormously wide. You haven’t seen him this thrilled in a long time, and you imagine that you appear the same way.

“Are any of the other guys here too?” Hongjoong asks excitedly.

“A couple,” Seonghwa replies. “I saw San’s name on the list, and I chatted a bit with Wooyoung earlier.”

“Oh yeah?” Hongjoong laughs, raising an eyebrow. “And how’s he?”

“Wooyoung is... still Wooyoung,” Seonghwa sighs, his grin widening as he shakes his head. “He’s probably somewhere by the lake, I told him to make sure all the canoes are clean and prepped.”

“And he actually listened to you?” You ask, surprised. As a kid, Wooyoung was always a bit… unpredictable.

“Fair question, how about we go look and see?” Seonghwa says to you with a smile, beginning to usher both you and Hongjoong back down the forest path, away from the meadow

The three of you make your way down towards the lake, your laughter ringing out in the open air, a welcome sound. You’ve missed this. You’ve missed it so fucking much.

And as you glance over Hongjoong’s shoulder, watching as Seonghwa smiles, that perfect joyous grin, you can only hope he’s missed this just as much as you have.

~~~~

Day Two.

The first day passed in a whirlwind of preparations, as well as missteps. You’re honestly surprised the group of you camp counselors were even able to have everything ready in time.

After misplacing the bin containing all the games, someone stealing half of the previously chopped firewood, and San tumbling off The Caf roof, it was beginning to look like the next five days were going to be a disaster.

Of course, with great strife comes great perseverance. You managed to find the games bin located beneath about a thousand other boxes, Wooyoung drove into town to locate some more firewood, and San somehow magically rose to his feet as if nothing had happened. By the end of the day, Camp KQ was genuinely starting to come together.

Which brings you to now, all the campers having arrived this morning, and you are currently immersed in a particularly intense game of capture the flag. It’s a KQ tradition, a way for the kids to get moving, as well as begin to make some new friends if they haven’t met anyone already.

It is also a part of the tradition for the counselors to get involved as well. Which is why you are currently wading through the forest’s shrubbery, doing your best to be stealthy as you try to spot the opposing team's flag.

You remember back when you were a young camper, how nervous you were that the big, scary counselors were playing too. Now that you’re one of them however, you realize how stupid that was. These little bastards are fast. Which is exactly why you gave up even bothering to try and catch them, and decided to try and scout for them instead.

You see some kids up ahead, surrounding an incredibly suspicious bush that you can only assume has the flag located in it. You turn around, prepared to tell the rest of the campers on your team exactly where it is, when you walk face first into a member of the opposing team's chest.

You groan, rubbing your nose in pain as you shoot the guy a glare. Seonghwa smiles at you, putting a hand on your back. “Gotcha,” he says, a little too smug.

“Damn right you got me,” you mumble, your voice dripping with annoyance. “Could have done it without breaking my nose.”

“Hey, hey,” he chides, still keeping his hand placed on your back as he begins to walk you towards his team's jail. “You ran into me, what was I supposed to do?”

He’s right, but you don’t need to give him the satisfaction of telling him that, so you don’t say anything.

“Hey,” Seonghwa whispers, looking over his shoulder to see if any of the campers are watching. “Since I have to walk you over to the jail anyway, mind if we take a little detour? I want to show you something.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Oh yeah, and what is it you want to show me?”

Seonghwa flushes, before jokingly pushing you away from him, laughing. “Not like that, you perv.”

You laugh, smiling to yourself. It was easy to get comfortable with Seonghwa again, revert back to your old playful dynamic. Like this, you could almost pretend the last four years of distance never happened.

Almost.

You and Seonghwa begin to walk deeper into the forest when you hear a voice call out from behind you. “Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be bringing her to jail?” One of the campers yells. He’s short, with sandy blonde hair and a determined expression on his face. He can’t be any older than 10.

“Uh,” Seonghwa laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m uh, just taking a secret route. It’s faster.”

The kid’s face lights up with curiosity. “Ooo, can you show me?”

“Maybe, next time,” Seonghwa laughs, before tugging on your arm and beginning to walk a little faster. “You stay there, and make sure to guard that flag! Don’t let anyone get it!”

When the boy disappears, you turn to Seonghwa, smirking. “You’re not being a very good role model for your team, are you?”

“Oh, shush,” he chuckles, rolling his eyes. “This’ll be worth it.”

“What do you want to show me, anyway?” You ask, giving him a sideways glance. Instead of immediately answering, he takes your hand, leading through a few twists and turns of the forest path. You feel a heat rising to your cheeks, doing your best to focus on the trail ahead rather than staring at your interlocked fingers.

“Here.” Seonghwa states, stopping in place. You look around at the… well, the nothing he has brought you to. It looks exactly like any other spot in the forest, and you have no clue what he deems special about it.

“Uh, Hwa?” You say slowly, glancing around. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“No, down here,” he says, pointing at something on the ground. You look down to see a large root poking out of the soil, stubbornly twisting itself along the forest path.

At first, you aren’t sure why exactly he finds it so fascinating. Sure, you guess it’s pretty big for a root, but not worth trekking into the forest to find. That’s when you realize.

“Wait,” you say, your eyebrows launching up in surprise. “Is this…”

“Yep!” Seonghwa answers for you, a wide smile spreading across his face. “This is where we first met.”

    ~~~~

7 years ago. 1st year camper.

You were 11 when your parents allowed you to join Hongjoong at the KQ camp during the summer. He’d already been going for a few years, but it wasn’t until that summer that you decided you finally wanted to join him.

Frankly, you were shy as a child, and the thought of being forced to make friends with a bunch of other kids you never met terrified you. It had taken you years to build up that bravery, and as Hongjoong spent the entirety of the year boasting about what a fun time he had, you figured the time had come to give it a shot.

However, now that you were actually there, you were finding that this decision was turning out to be a big mistake.

You were in the middle of playing a game of capture the flag, and Hongjoong had run off with some of his other friends from previous years, leaving you by yourself.

You didn’t mind, or at least you wouldn’t have minded, if you weren’t completely lost in the middle of a giant forest. You’d somehow managed to wander far away from where the game was taking place. So much so that you could no longer hear the laughing or shouts from the other campers. Only a tense, eerie silence that was making you more nervous each passing moment.

That’s when the rustling started. A bush to your right suddenly began to move, it’s leaves shaking violently as something began to move within it.

That was your cue to leave.

Quickly, you began to sprint down the forest path, your mind focused on nothing but the bush behind you. Were you even running in the right direction? You didn’t know, but then again, you also didn’t care. All you wanted was to get as far away from that rattling shrub, and whatever was living inside it, as possible.

Of course, that also didn’t quite go exactly as planned. Instead you tripped, your ankle catching on a giant root that was sticking out of the trail. You came crashing down into the dirt, raspberry coloured scrapes coating both of your arms.

Your mind racing with adrenaline, you attempted to get back on your feet, but couldn’t. Your ankle ached, buckling under you with every failed step. You were stuck. You were trapped.

You were also eleven. Which meant you did the only thing you could think to do.

You cried.

Letting out a wail of pain, screaming at the top of your lungs, you desperately hoped that someone would come rescue you.

And someone did.

A boy appeared on the forest path ahead of you, his eyes widening as he saw your current condition. He looked a little older than you, but only by a year or two at most, appearing around Hongjoong’s age. His dark hair was cut short, his big eyes swimming with concern.

“A-Are you okay?” He asked nervously, taking a few steps towards you.

“Do I look okay?” You sobbed. Even back then, you had as sharp of a tongue as ever. “Of course, I’m not okay! I did something to my ankle… I think- I think it might be broken.”

The boy knelt down beside you. “Is it okay if I touch it?” He asked, to which you slowly nodded.

“Just… please be careful,” you whispered, sniffling slightly. The boy picked up your ankle, to which you winced. He muttered a quiet apology, before examining it in his hands.

“Great news,” he said, softly setting your ankle back down on the ground. “I don’t think it’s broken. Twisted, probably, but definitely not broken.” You didn’t know if that exactly qualified as great news, but you refrained from saying anything.

“Bad news is I’ll probably have to carry you back to camp.”

You flushed at this, staring at the stranger with wide eyes. “I don’t want you to carry me, I don’t even know who you are!”

The boy smiled before shrugging. “Well, my name’s Seonghwa, so now you know. And I don’t think you really have the choice. Unless you think you can get back on your own.”

In a motion of defiance, you attempted to rise to your feet, only to crash back down in the dirt. You feel your eyes beginning to water again, holding back your tears through a quiet sob.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Seonghwa rushed beside you, putting a soothing hand on your shoulder. “I didn’t mean to actually try. Here, come on, I’ll help you up.”

You were no longer in any position to deny him, so you let Seonghwa help steady you on your feet. With a fair amount of struggle, he scooped you up in his arms. The two of you were roughly the same height, after all.

But he managed. He slowly walked along the forest path, and you felt yourself swaying slightly with every step.

“So, what’s your name?” He asked.

“Y/N,” you replied quietly, to which his eyes lit up.

“You’re Joong’s little sister!” He exclaimed, to which you nodded. “He talks about you all the time. Don’t tell him I told you, though. He’d kill me.”

“Really?” You asked, surprised. “All he does is complain about me back home.”

“Well, to be honest, he does a lot of that too,” Seonghwa laughed. You scowled at this, you’d be sure to pay Hongjoong back for that later. “But lot’s of good stuff too. You guys have had a lot of adventures, I hear.”

“I guess so,” you say with a smile, which is quickly broken as you wince slightly from your throbbing ankle.

“Why don’t you tell me about one of them?” Seonghwa said. And so you did. The one where you and Hongjoong ran away from home, and it took your parents all of that day and next to find you. You told him everything. All of the details, big or small.

Looking back, you know he only asked to keep you talking. To keep you from focusing on the pain of your ankle. But it didn’t matter, he listened anyway. A soft smile on his face as he took in every detail.

That was the year you first met Seonghwa.

   ~~~~

Present Day.

“I wish I could go back in time and look in that bush,” you smile, mind giddy with nostalgia. “See if it was worth the twisted ankle.”

“Well now that it’s been eight years,” Seonghwa says, his expression nervous as his eyes dart away from yours. “I guess I can finally tell you… that was actually me.”

You stare at him for a moment, your jaw dropped. “So when I complained about it being a rabbit, or a deer, or a badger for literally years, you just let me?”

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa shrugs helplessly, although you can see the smile he’s attempting to push down, telling you he’s not really all that sorry about it. “You’re scary when you’re mad.”

You give him a playful punch to his shoulder, firm but not enough to actually cause him any pain. “Damn right I am. Just you wait, Hwa. I’m going to get you back for that.”

~~~~

Day Three.

Today is lake day at Camp KQ, which means all of your activities will somehow involve water and the beach. This was always your favourite of the days growing up, the most refreshing against the scorching sun. There was something peaceful about lounging in the sand, or catching tadpoles that had swam their way up to the dock. This was the campers' chance to mostly be able to do their own thing, while the counselors simply supervised.

That is what you are currently doing. You and Seonghwa are both sharing a canoe, making sure that if any of the campers who are on kayaks or paddle boards tip over, you’re close enough to immediately help them back up.

A few other counselors are lounging on the beach. San is helping a little girl with pigtails build a sand castle. Meanwhile, Wooyoung chases the boy with the sandy blonde hair around with a water gun, Hongjoong calling at him to stop and leave the poor kid alone. It’s the perfect day, and you realize there is no other place you’d possibly rather be right now.

You turn to Seonghwa, who is also peacefully watching the shoreline. There’s something about how Hwa views the world that always seems to make something inside of you stir. He looks at everything as if it’s his first time experiencing it, his eyes full of wonder, of pure happiness and joy. It’s admirable, and you must admit, maybe the tiniest bit adorable as well.

You notice the movement of something behind him, your eyes focusing on a group of ducklings and their mother swimming by the reeds.

“Hey,” you whisper quietly. Seonghwa turns to you, a quizzical expression on his face. You point to the ducklings, your heart jumping slightly at the look of joy that flashes in his eyes. “Do you think we could get any closer?” You ask, to which Seonghwa smiles.

“Actually,” he says, reaching into the pocket of his cargo shorts. “I don’t think we’ll have to.”

Seonghwa pulls out a small loaf of bread, most definitely stolen from the kitchen of The Caf. You laugh, shaking your head.

“I thought I told you last time not to do that again,” you chuckle, thinking back to years ago, when he’d done the exact same thing.

“I know,” he laughs. “But who’s here now to catch me?”

   ~~~~

6 years ago. 2nd year camper.

“Hwa, where did you even get that?” You whispered frantically, staring at the loaf of bread in your friend's hand with wide eyes. Breakfast had been a few hours ago, and you knew for a fact that bread loaves had not been on the menu.

“From the kitchen,” Hwa said casually, as if there was nothing wrong with the action of stealing it whatsoever. You stared at him, your eyebrows drawn in and mouth settled into a deep frown.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” you said, crossing your arms in disapproval. The canoe you were both sitting in shook slightly in protest of your action, causing you to let out a small yelp of surprise.

Seonghwa broke into a fit of laughter, causing one of the counselors to glance over in your direction. You gave Hwa a small slap on the arm, causing him to quiet down.

“You’re being too paranoid, Y/N. It’s fine. Besides, I grabbed it for you,” he said with a grin.

“For me?” You frowned, wondering why the hell Seonghwa thought you would possibly want a crumbly loaf of bread.

“Yeah, look,” he said, pointing to something over your shoulder. You twisted your head around, eyes scanning the lake’s marsh and landing on a paddling of ducks. The little ducklings were following their mother in a line, carelessly quacking away as they paddled after her, and you could swear your heart just about melted. “They’re here every year, I figured you’d want to feed them.”

Seonghwa extended the bread out towards you, a smug expression playing across his face, knowing exactly what choice you’d make. Begrudgingly, you took the loaf, not meeting his eyes as you did so.

“See, I knew you’d come around,” he laughed, before pulling off a piece of the loaf and tossing it into the water. The reaction was immediate, the ducks beginning to swim their way over to the soggy treat.

You threw in another piece, watching as the littlest duckling swam over, so close to your canoe that you could pick it up if you wanted to. You wouldn’t, of course, but still you smiled, throwing him another little piece, chuckling as some of the other ducklings swam over, reader to tussle for anymore if need be.

You and Seonghwa stayed like that for a moment, feeding the ducks in silence. It was a comfortable sort of quiet, no words needed to be said, only the moment to be shared. You shifted your gaze to Hwa, peeking at him from the corner of your eye, hoping he wouldn’t notice you staring.

You’d met the boy only the year before, and in that time, the two of you had become close. It didn’t matter if you hadn’t seen or spoken to one another in the year you’d spent apart, things were the exact same way they had been when you came back.

And things had been nice. Hwa was sweet, a nicer companion than Hongjoong, anyway. He was clever and taught you how to skip a rock across the water, showed you his secret spot in the meadow. You thought he was great, and while you didn’t quite yet understand the feeling, you knew that your heart beat twice as fast whenever he was around.

You knew he could make you smile and laugh. You knew you could be yourself around him, judgement free. You knew he was your favourite person to spend time with in this camp.

Seonghwa glanced over at you, noticing you watching him from the corner of his eye. “Why are you staring at me? Do I have something on my face?”

“Uh,” you spoke quickly, frazzled by the confrontation. “Uh, yeah, you do.”

“Where?” He asked, suddenly serious. Even at thirteen, Seonghwa held great importance over his appearance.

You looked at him blankly, at a loss of what to say, as there so obviously wasn’t anything to point out. “Oh,” you said, glancing away from him and focusing back on the ducks. “Sorry, I guess that’s just what you look like.”

“Hey!” He gasped, his voice high with offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Despite your better judgement, you felt yourself beginning to laugh at the expression on his face. His jaw dropped, eyes bulging as stared at you, appalled. “I’m just joking, Hwa. It didn’t mean any-”

Then you were in the lake, swimming upwards until your face broke through the water, letting out a huge gasp for air. It took your brain a second to understand what had just happened, whole seconds passing by before you realized he had just pushed you off the canoe.

“Hwa!” You yelled, glaring upwards at him. You moved some of the wet hair that was sticking to your forehead, blinking some of the lake water out of your eyes. Seonghwa was currently laughing, his face turned upwards to the sky, as if he were exclaiming his joy to the clouds.

“Sorry,” he sighs, looking down at you before extending out the handle of his ore to help you back in. “I just couldn’t resist.”

That was the year you and Seonghwa became best friends.

    ~~~~

Present Day.

Your heart warms slightly at the memory. Later that day, so many years ago, the counselor that had noticed Seonghwa laughing pulled the two of you aside. He told you that he was disappointed, and that bread was supposed to be used to make french toast for everyone tomorrow morning, and now he wasn’t sure if there would be enough.

You had felt immensely guilty, and had made Seonghwa promise to never do that again. He had kept that promise.

Well, until now, apparently.

But now that you are older, and had actually helped prepare and stock the kitchen, you know that there was way more than enough bread for everybody, and the counselor was just trying to make sure you wouldn’t do it again.

You turn to Seonghwa who is currently feeding the ducklings, face lighting up in that same familiar and joyous way, as if he were thirteen again. You suppose you can let it slide.

He peeks at you from the corner of his eye, raising an eyebrow at you. “Why are you staring at me? Do I have something on my face?”

You laugh, full of both delight and surprise. “You remember that?” You ask, smiling as he shyly looks down.

“Of course I do,” he says, and there’s a shift in his tone. It sounds more sincere, thoughtful. Speaking as if there isn’t a moment he has forgotten.

It makes you almost feel bad for what you’re about to do next.

You place your hand on his chest, giving him a strong shove. He tumbles backwards, letting out a yelp of surprise as he flips off the canoe, which shakes violently in protest. You carefully grip both sides, doing your best to keep your balance as you erupt into your own fit of laughter.

Seonghwa's head pops up, spitting out a mouthful of water. You can hear some kids, including both Wooyoung and San giggling from the shore, and it only makes your smile widen.

“What the hell was that for?” He sulks, looking up at you with his lip slightly pouted.

“Six years ago,” you say with a grin, extending out your ore. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”

~~~~

Day 4.

The day had passed in a messy, chaotic fashion. Games were played, a handful of the campers deciding to pull the not-so-funny prank of playing hide and seek in the forest. This meant that they all suddenly disappeared from the field, forcing the counselors to go desperately searching for them.

They’d earned a rather stern reprimanding, Hongjoong taking the lead as he rather thoroughly explained why this was not an okay thing to do. Going slightly too in detail about what exactly could have happened to them had they gotten lost, stolen, or hurt.

That lecture had earned themselves a rather quiet night. Everyone is currently gathered around a bonfire, talking quietly to one another, casting nervous glances over at Hongjoong. Your brother seems unphased, staring at the fire with a content expression on his face.

Seonghwa turns to you, lowering his voice as he speaks. “I didn’t realize your brother could be so terrifying.”

You snort, lounging backwards on the log the two of you are sitting on. “Oh yeah. Should’ve seen the time I broke his playstation, slept with one eye open for the rest of the week.”

Seonghwa whistles lowly, cringing at the thought. “Yeah, I don’t even want to imagine that.”

“Campers! Look what I brought!” A loud voice rings out from behind you. You turn around to see Wooyoung carrying a few bags of marshmallows, San trailing behind him with his hands full of roasting sticks.

The kids around you cheer, the mood noticeably lightening. You wonder if it’s really such a good idea to load the kids up on sugar right before sending them to their cabins, but how much is a marshmallow or two really going to hurt?

San passes you a stick and a marshmallow, and you mutter a thank you before turning back to the fire. You stare at the flickering flame, a frown on your lips, and you feel Seonghwa watching you. You turn to face him, watching as he gives you a knowing look.

“Do you want me to do it for you?” He asks, to which you nod, smiling as you had the roasting items over to him.

He shakes his head disapprovingly, however, you don’t miss the way his lips curve upwards. “Are you ever going to learn how to make one of these for yourself?” He asks, to which you shrug.

“Why should I?” You say, smirking. Despite his words, Seonghwa begins to stick your marshmallow onto the skewer. “I’ve always had you to do it for me.”

~~~~

5 years ago. 3rd year camper.

You let out a whine of frustration as your marshmallow was quickly engulfed in flames, pathetically falling into the bonfire. You watched as it melted against one of the logs, the sugar bubbling as it dissipated completely. This was the second one that night, and it had become clear that you hadn’t learned the lesson of patience, even after the first.

“You know, you’re actually not supposed to stick it directly into the fire,” Seonghwa had spoken up from beside you, earning himself a glare.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to spend 10 whole minutes roasting it like you have,” you grumbled, bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them, like a sulking child.

“Well, maybe you should have. Because sadly, I don’t think the counselors are going to give you another extra marshmallow. Not after botching another one, anyway,” Seonghwa stated matter-of-factly, his eyes still focused on his own roasting stick, slowly turning it a good ways away from the core of the flames.

“Maybe you’re right,” you sighed, defeated. Seonghwa smiled smugly, taking his roasting stick away from the fire and holding it out before your eyes.

“Look at that,” he chirped, admiring the golden-brown marshmallow with pride. “In all your years here, have you ever seen a marshmallow this perfectly toasted?”

You looked away from him, instead training your eyes somewhere far off in the forest, your chest panging with something of jealousy. “What do you want, a medal?” You murmured, causing Seonghwa to stop for a moment, turning to face you.

He watched you for a moment while your head was turned, his smile fading into a frown. He reached for the marshmallow, pulling it off the stick before gently tapping you on the shoulder. You turned to face him, although begrudgingly, only for him to extend the treat outwards to you.

“Here,” he said, his eyes sincere. “Take it.”

“What?” You asked, your eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “But it’s yours?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, shrugging his shoulders carelessly. “But I want you to have it.”

Your eyes scanned him for a moment, narrowing as you searched for any form of insincerity. Was there a bug on it? Was it actually burnt on the flipside. You had learned to be ever so careful about these sorts of things from Hongjoong, who had taken enormous pleasure in training the gullibility out of you.

However, now that you thought about it, perhaps you didn’t have to feel that way around Seonghwa. Ever since you met him two years ago, unless you egged him on, he always treated you kindly. Always did his very best to make you happy, never focusing on himself. Whether it be giving you the last popsicle in the cooler, or running up to grab you an extra muffin during breakfast, you always seemed to come first.

And perhaps that’s what was making your cheeks grow warm.

You carefully took the marshmallow from Seonghwa’s hand, giving him another hesitant glance. “You know they aren’t going to give you another one, right?” You asked, still not putting the treat in your mouth.

“So what?” He said casually, setting the roasting stick down by his feet. “I’ll just have to wait for next year. Now would you eat the thing already? I’m tired of looking at it.”

You finally put the treat in your mouth. It tasted amazing, a true product of what good patience can bring.

“How is it? Good?” He asked, to which you nodded vigorously. He laughed quietly, before returning his gaze back to the bonfire, a quiet settled between the two of you.

You took the time to look at him. Truly look at him. Seonghwa had grown up over the past year, his boyish appearance becoming much more refined and purposeful. His hair was a little longer, ruffled and messy in a way that seemed almost intentional. He’d grown an inch or two, still only slightly taller than you, but you could no longer see the top of his head when you spoke to him.

You couldn’t deny he wasn’t horrible to look at. You couldn’t deny his sweetness. You couldn’t deny how he made your heart warm and cheeks flush pink.

As you watched him stare into the fire, that content expression laying peaceful across his face, you couldn’t deny that you were undoubtedly falling for your best friend.

That was the year you realized you liked Seonghwa.

     ~~~~

Present Day.

“Y/N,” Seonghwa says, abruptly waking you from your daydream. You turn to face him expectantly, shocked when he reaches forward with his hand, cupping your cheek.

You can’t even imagine how red your face is as he swipes his thumb along the corner of your lip. Your thoughts immediately jumbling together in a panic. What the hell is he doing? What the hell is he thinking?

Is he...Is he about to kiss you?

Maybe you should close your eyes, you think, but you can’t bring yourself to. You stare at him, eyes bulging wide, like a deer caught in the headlights. Yet, he makes no effort to lean in. Is he waiting for you to? Should you just go for it?

You move forward a total of two inches before Seonghwa pulls his hand away, stopping you in your tracks. “Sorry,” he says, an oblivious smile dawning his lips. “You had some marshmallow stuck on your lip.”

You look at him for a moment, not able to form any words. You wonder if he knows what you were thinking. You wonder if he can see the disappointment in your eyes.

You wonder if he can see right through you.

You turn away from him, looking back at the fire, doing your best not to let both your sadness and embarrassment show. “Oh,” you say quietly. “Thank you.”

“Hey, Hwa!” Wooyoung suddenly calls as he finishes collecting all of the campers' used roasting sticks before plopping down on the log beside you. “Could you bring these sticks back to The Caf?”

“Why can’t you do it?” Seonghwa says with a frown, taking the sticks from Wooyoung despite his words. He might complain about it first, but you know he’ll end up taking them anyway, because that’s who Seonghwa is. Ever the giver.

“Because I already brought them out for us, and I’m tired,” Wooyoung whines, outstretching the last word in the childish, annoying way that he knows drives Seonghwa crazy.

Seonghwa sighs, standing up from his seat. “Fine,” he says, before giving you a small smile. “I’ll be right back.”

The moment he’s out of sight, Wooyoung runs over and takes the spot he was sitting in. He looks at you with a level of mischievousness that immediately makes you want to leave and run after Seonghwa.

“I saw that, you know,” Wooyoung says, wrapping a hand around your shoulder menacingly. You don’t have any siblings other than Hongjoong, but Wooyoung has always felt like the younger brother you never had nor asked for.

You sigh, shrugging his hand off of you, only for him to put it right back up where it had been. “Saw what?” You mumble, feigning obliviousness.

“How you just tried to kiss Seonghwa,” Wooyoung chirps, and you feel yourself freeze, your eyes darting away from him with guilt.

“I-I did not!” You shout, although it comes out far more like a squeak. Wooyoung laughs, shaking you slightly as he does so.

“Oh, please,” he rolls his eyes, looking at you with a confidence that indicates he can see right through you. “The two of you are so obvious, it’s actually painful to watch.”

You're ready to push him away from you, to tune out that loud, almost condescending laughter of his. However, some of his words stick in your mind, and you find yourself curious. Against your better judgment, you engage.

“What… What do you mean by the two of us?” You say quietly, to which Wooyoung sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in what you can only recognize as frustration.

“You’re kidding right?” He sighs, throwing his head up in the air, as if begging the gods for help. You think he’s being a tad dramatic, but that’s Wooyoung for you. “You guys are more hopeless than I thought.”

He takes a deep breath, before looking back into your eyes. “Sweetheart, Hwa has been head over heels for you since the first year you came here.”

You look at him for a moment, blinking, before turning away. “Shut up, Woo,” you laugh quietly, shaking your head.

“I’m serious!” Wooyoung says, or more so yells, his voice heightening. “You should have seen him when you and Joong didn’t come back, the guy was a mopey mess the whole week. He didn’t even come back the next year for his last season as a camper.”

You know Wooyoung is trying to make you feel better, to reassure you, but this only makes you feel worse. You’ve been doing your best to forget your guilt, to enjoy your days with Seonghwa while you have them, but that didn’t change the truth of the matter.

That you left him, after you promised you wouldn’t.

It wasn't intentional, of course. Your father had spontaneously secured a job across the country, causing you and Joong to quickly pack up your items and leave. Leave your home, your school, and camp KQ all behind.

You and Seonghwa had never exchanged addresses or phone numbers. Which was intentional, and perhaps what also helped to secure the magic of it all.

How the two of you were separate from each other's main lives, a week of the year dedicated to time with the other, and then eagerly waiting for the months to tick by to have that joy again. Perhaps the two of you wanted to preserve that feeling.

A stupid mistake, as when you moved so far away, there was no means of contacting him. Nothing to tell him what happened.

Nothing to tell him you hadn’t left on purpose.

“Hey,” Seonghwa says, approaching from behind the two of you, putting a hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder. “Get out of my seat.”

Wooyoung laughs, making no motion to move, but rather crosses his legs to make himself more comfortable. “Nah, you got up, it’s mine now.”

“Yeah, to put away your stupid roasting sticks,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes, but despite his protests, sits down where Wooyoung had been sitting previously.

You watch him for a moment, scanning his face to see any sign of sadness, or perhaps even harboured resentment. You can’t find any, however, only a warm smile as he begins talking to San about the activities planned for the next day.

And as you sit there, your guilt building in your chest, you can’t help but wonder if Wooyoung was right. That maybe Seonghwa does and always has felt the same way.

   ~~~~

Day 5:

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been slightly avoiding Seonghwa all day. It wasn’t necessarily intentional, it was just that every time you saw him, your anxiousness would begin to spike higher. Your guilt would deepen, and you would begin imagining Seonghwa as Wooyoung had described.

It was painful, the thought of him being so upset the year after you left, wondering where you had gone. Why you never came back, while having no means to contact you. Did he think you’d done it on purpose? Did he think it was your choice?

You hope not, but then again, you know how Seonghwa tends to get in his head. Having had the last 4 years to think about it, you’re almost positive he’s definitely considered it.

You know you should just talk to him about it, but you don’t know how to bring it up. You should’ve done so the moment you saw him in the daisy meadow, but no, you put it off. You assumed that when he never mentioned it, he must’ve been fine.

But he wasn’t, and now you have to make things right.

You’re currently sitting on the dock, your feet gently swaying back and forth, toes dancing along the water. You love this spot, mostly due to the memory attached to it, of course, but the view remains lovely none-the-less.

The sun begins to set before you, it’s bright lights causing the water to shimmer a radiant gold. The tall trees on the opposite side of the lake create a gorgeous landscape, the regions mountains standing tall in the far off distance.

You sigh, thinking back to this time, four long years ago.

     ~~~~

4 years ago. 4th Year Camper.

“This is my favourite place,” Seonghwa said under his breath, as the two of you admired the setting sunset. He was leaning back on his hands, his hair tousled and expression worn from the day.

“At camp? Or in general?” You asked. You were laid down on your stomach, leaning over the dock to trail your hand over the water, appreciating the coolness against your fingertips.

“In general.”

“Hmm,” you hummed softly, looking up to truly take in the landscape. “Fair, but I think mine is still the meadow.”

“Of course,” Seonghwa chuckled. He maneuvered himself next to you, so he was also laying on his front. He reached his hand forward, splashing a few water droplets up at you, causing you to call out in protest. “You never change.”

“Why would I?” You laughed, lounging your head in your arms, looking up at him. “I’m fantastic.”

“This is true,” he said with a smile, to which you blushed. A silence settled between the two of you, as you both turned back to face the water. This had been happening a lot that year, these little moments of quiet. Normally, you’d continue to quip back and forth, but that had settled down slightly. Instead replaced with a sweet comment here, or a warm compliment there.

It was strange, and of course you both were still young, and didn’t quite yet know what to do with it.

“Speaking of the meadow,” Seonghwa said suddenly, reaching into his back pocket, pulling out a daisy. It was far larger than average, with giant white petals and a thicker stem. “Here.”

You take the daisy from his hand, twirling it around in your fingers, a smile breaking through on your lips. He’d made a sudden habit of this, of bringing you the biggest ones he could find.

“Not bad, Hwa,” you said softly. “Although you've given me so many these past few days, I don’t know what I’m going to do with them all.”

He laughs shyly, before motioning to the flower, asking you to give it to him. “You could make a wish,” he suggests, to which you raise your eyebrows quizzically.

“What do you mean?” You asked, to which Seonghwa maneuvered the daisy in front of you.

“So, you come up with a wish, right?” He said, leaning in closer as he explained, resulting in his breath tingling against your cheek. Your heart began to beat a little faster. “Then you pull off the petals one by one, each petal rotating between whether or not the wish itself will come true. Whichever one the last petal lands on, is whatever will happen. Got it?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, taking the daisy from his hand and beginning to pull it apart. The little white petals fluttered downwards, landing gracefully against the lake's water, slowly moving towards the shore with the push of each small wave.

You continued until there were no petals left, to which Seonghwa looked at you expectantly. “Well?” He asked. “Will your wish come true?”

“No,” you chuckled lightly. Truthfully, the petals did say it would, but you knew there was no way in hell of that coming true. You wished that you wouldn’t have to go home tomorrow, that you wouldn’t have to go another year without seeing him. But of course, that wouldn’t be the case, it never was.

“Awe, bummer,” he sighed, swirling the petals that hadn’t disappeared yet around in the water. “I guess I’ll just have to keep picking them for you until it works.”

You smiled at this. Suddenly, you felt the prickle of tears beginning to infest your eyes. You tried to stop them, knowing it was stupid. Knowing that this is how it was every year, and that you have always gotten through it. Yet, your eyes didn’t seem to understand this logic, the tears beginning to stubbornly spill down onto your cheeks. You tried to wipe them away before Seonghwa noticed, but it was no use.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Seonghwa said softly as he turned to face you, eyes filling with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” You mumbled, looking away from him, blinking rapidly. “I’m just going to miss you, that’s all.”

“Awe, Y/N,” Seonghwa says, his voice gentle. “I’m really going to miss you too.” That statement certainly hadn’t helped to make your current situation any better, causing you to let out a shuddery breath that only made your tears worsen.

“Come on,” he said pleadingly, looking at you with the utmost care. “Please don’t cry. You’re going to make me cry if you keep this up, is that what you want?”

You laughed a little at this, coming out as a shaky, choked sound. “A little,” you say, to which he laughs as well, giving you a small, harmless shove.

Then, to your surprise, he took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers. You expected him to say something, to explain that it didn’t really mean anything, or that he was just trying to make you feel better, but he didn’t. Instead he let his thumb gently rub against your knuckles, the gesture innocent, yet entirely meaningful.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, and you could swear you saw a tear escape the corner of his eye. “We always have next year, right?”

“Right,” you said with a nod, yet next year sounded so painfully far away. Like another lifetime of waiting.

“Promise?” He said while smiling at you, which grew wider as you returned the gesture.

“Promise.” You replied, giving his hand a small squeeze.

That was the year you left Seonghwa behind.

 ~~~~

Present Day.

“I thought I might find you over here,” a familiar voice says from over your shoulder. You don’t turn around as Seonghwa makes his way down the dock, seating himself next to you. His legs are much longer than yours, the water going up to his calves rather than ankles, soaking through the khaki’s he is currently sporting.

“Am I that predictable?” You say, a forced lightness to your voice. Seonghwa notices - of course he does - letting out a deep pained sigh.

“Are you going to tell me why you’ve been acting weird all day, or am I going to have to start badgering you?” Seonghwa says. Even with the frustration in his words, his tone remains tender.

You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath, steadying yourself. This is it. Time to let it all out.

“Can I say something?” You mumble, to which Seonghwa smiles, nodding.

“I think I just asked you to say something, so of course,” he laughs quietly. When you don’t join him, he frowns, as if realizing something is more wrong than he originally thought. “Is everything okay?”

“I didn’t mean to leave you!” You blurt out loudly, to which Seonghwa’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I mean, it wasn’t my decision. Joong and I, our dad got a new job across the country, so we had to leave at the drop of a dime. I wanted to stay. I didn’t mean to break my promise to you. To leave you here alone.” Your words come out rushed and emotional, your voice shaking slightly. It reminds you of when you were last here, four years ago, the same painful tears building in your eyes.

But Seonghwa only smiles, setting his hand on top of yours, causing the skin of your palm to press down slightly into the wood of the dock. He looks off into the distance, an amused expression crossing his face.

“Well, duh,” he says with a chuckle, shifting himself to face you.

You stare at him for a moment, dumb-founded by the lightness of his expression, the warmth in his eyes.

“W-what?” You say, confused by his response. Was he not upset? Did he already know ?

“Y/N, when both you and Joong randomly didn’t come back that year, I assumed something was stopping you. Joong has literally been coming here every year since he was seven, he wouldn’t just stop,” Seonghwa says, that bemused expression growing wider as you continued to stare at him, with wide, un-blinking eyes.

“But Wooyoung said you were crushed-”

“Okay first,” Seonghwa cuts you off, shaking his head in protest. “Never listen to what Wooyoung says, you know this. Secondly, of course I was crushed! I wanted to see you! But it had nothing to do with thinking you didn’t want to come back here, or see me or whatever.”

You’re silent for a moment, taking in his words. Seonghwa lifts your hand up off the deck, entwining your fingers, squeezing tightly against your palm. “But it doesn’t matter, we’re here now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” you mutter quietly, the frown plastered on your lips finally cracking, curving into the faintest hint of a smile. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“Besides,” Seonghwa smirks. “It’s kinda on the both of us anyway, for never exchanging numbers.”

You laugh at this, shaking your head at your own childhood stupidity. “Seriously, what was with that? Could’ve saved us from this whole mess,” you say.

You aren’t sure what guides your next move, maybe instinct and nothing else, but you lean your head against Seonghwa’s shoulder. He flinches slightly, at first shocked by the action, before melting into it, letting his own head rest against the top of yours.

For a moment the world shrinks to nothing but the dock. Nothing but your summer camp, and the mountains that lay in the distance. Nothing but each other.

Of course, this feeling cannot last forever, as a voice rings out from somewhere far off behind you.

“Y/N! Hwa! Where are you guys?” Hongjoong calls out. “We need to start setting up the fire!”

You let out a groan, burying your face even deeper into Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I don’t feel like going.”

“Hmm,” Seonghwa hums at your words, glancing behind the two of you. Hongjoong is not yet in sight, still far off by The Caf, but he appears to be slowly making his way towards the lake.

“Do you trust me?” Seonghwa asks, mumbling the words into your ears. You look up at him, not enjoying the glint of mischief shimmering in his eyes.

“Not even a little bit,” you say warily, narrowing your own eyes at him. “Why, what are you plan-”

You aren’t able to finish the thought as Seonghwa gives you a firm push to the back, causing you to tumble into the lake. You let out a sharp yelp on the way in, the cold water tingling against your skin as a burst of adrenaline pulses through you. You feel Seonghwa slip in beside you, peeking open your eyes to see bubbles appearing in the murky water.

You swim upwards, inhaling a sharp gasp of air. Seonghwa does the same, although his breath is not nearly as desperate, as he had of course expected to jump in, after all.

You’re about to yell at him, when he quickly puts a finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet. Gently, he takes hold of your arm, directing the two of you under the dock.

The perfect hiding spot.

Well, perhaps this was an overstatement. The area between the top of the dock and the lake is minimal, only enough space for your chins to remain above water.

You hear footsteps echo on top of you, as Hongjoong makes his way down the dock. You let out a giggle, and Seonghwa quickly puts a hand over your mouth, doing his best to stifle his own laughter, as well.

You hear Hongjoong let out a deep, exasperated sigh, before turning around and beginning to head back towards the shore. “Where the hell did they go? Maybe that stupid meadow?” He mutters under his breath, before continuing to shout your names as he heads back towards the direction of The Caf.

You and Seonghwa wait until Hongjoong’s voice fades out in the distance, before erupting into your own fit of giggles. Seonghwa releases his hand from your mouth, instead setting it on your shoulder.

“Is it bad that I enjoyed that a little too much?” Seonghwa asks, his voice still shaky with laughter.

“No, no. Me too,” you smile. As your laughter dies out, you feel suddenly aware of how close the two of you are, slightly squished together within the docks narrow build. You can feel his body heat radiating next to you, the warmth his hand provides against your shoulder, noticeable even through the soaked fabric of your camp t-shirt.

“Would’ve been nice if you could’ve just told me we were jumping in though,” you tease, giving him a playful shove from under the water.

“I mean I could’ve, but what's the fun in that?” Seonghwa laughs. “Besides, it was only pay back for the canoe.”

“No, no, no,” you laugh, moving slightly closer to him, the smile wide on your face. “That’s not fair, because the canoe was payback for when you did the exact same thing to me six years ago. Don’t think I don’t remem-”

You’re cut off as he leans forward, your senses suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips crashing into yours. You remain still, your body not functioning as it takes you a moment to realize what is actually happening, that he is kissing you.

Seonghwa is kissing you.

Kissing you.

Finally.

You realize you should probably start kissing him back.

You meld your lips against his, which are soft and warm. Water splashes around the two of you, but you don’t care, because you’re finally doing what you’ve wanted since you were thirteen.

His lips taste sweet. Like honey and sugar. Like daisies and marshmallows and the sun setting over the horizon. It’s a completely new feeling, yet at the same time, oh so familiar

Seonghwa’s hand slips from your shoulder, searching for your waist in the depth of the water. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I should’ve asked. I just didn’t want to chicken out again.”

You stop at this, peeling away your lips from his own, raising a single eyebrow. “What do you mean again?”

“Oh,” he laughs shyly, the faintest hint of a blush coating his cheeks. “Four years ago, on the dock. I was going to, before we left. Wooyoung even tried talking me up to it, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I was too nervous.”

“Cute,” you say, unable to contain the smitten grin making its way onto your lips.

“And yesterday,” he adds quickly. “At the fire. There… there might have been no marshmallow on your lip.”

You look at him for a moment, before tackling him in the water, giving him a messy kiss on the forehead. “Are you kidding me? Do you know how embarrassed I was? I literally leaned in, why would you possibly chicken out?” You ask, your arms still wrapped around him.

“I don’t know!” He laughs, his voice defensive. “It didn’t feel like the right moment.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “What about now? Is now the right moment?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, leaning in to place his lips on yours again. “Yeah, now is perfect.”

~~~~

Day Six.

The forest floor of the meadow is soft against your back, the daisy’s petals brushing gently against your bare arms and legs. It’s cozy, the beams from the sun warm against your skin. Seonghwa has his head resting against your stomach, his fingers mindlessly playing with a strand of your hair.

Today was the last day of the camp. The morning was spent mostly cleaning, making sure every lost stuffed animal or left shoe was found before the campers parents came to pick them up. It was rushed and messy, but it left you with the rest of the day to do as you pleased.

Of course you picked the meadow. Perhaps Seonghwa was right, and you really were painfully predictable. But it didn’t matter, because there was truly nothing better than this quiet little spot, especially as you shared it with the boy currently laying with you.

There is no particular memory that stands out to you about the meadow. All of your time simply melding together, a hazy timeless fog of mornings spent reading under the tree’s, or making small flower bouquets with the endless supply of little yellow and white flowers.

Perhaps this will become the memory you reflect back on in the years to come, lounging in the summer heat. Peaceful. Sirine. Perfect.

“Not to be cliche or anything,” Seonghwa says softly, his eyes meeting yours, full of affection. “But before we leave, could I maybe get your number?”

You laugh, placing your own hand in his hair, brushing the champagne locks away from his face. “Mmm, I don’t know. Might just have to wait to see me again until next year.”

He scoffs, his grin widening. “Right, like you could handle not seeing me again for that long.”

He rises up from off your stomach, leaning on one of his elbows as he softly kisses you. You kiss him back, smiling gently against his lips. You could really get used to this, you think.

“Hey, can you guys get up off your asses and come help-” Hongjoong calls from down the trail, cringing and covering his eyes the moment he sees the two of you.

“God, you’re both going to be insufferable from now on, aren’t you?” He groans, a look of genuine disgust spreading across his face.

Seonghwa laughs before looking back at you. He picks one of the daisies out of the ground, placing it in the crook of your ear. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Pretty much.”

This will be the year that you and Seonghwa fall in love.

~~~~

thanks for reading everyone!!

[bitebitesnap]

Ghost Pipe AU

Aight y'all here's this thing.

Weird format because it's literally cut and pasted from discord to a google doc then here lol

-yeets under the cut-

'okay so

you're a scientist studying a recent meteor shower; supposedly some of the rocks are fragments of a planet destroyed during a rogue planet crashing into it

among the wreckage, strange seeds are found. the consensus is to let them grow in a contained environment

the first plants grow, a unique alien green and vivid purple leaved..thing... doesn't look like any plant you know

so they remain in containment, growing along nicely

as they grow (rather quickly) you go home, you'd been there all day

to find your barn in a wreck

it's still standing, but, there;s some nasty holes in the roof about the size of an apple

nothing seems broken tho so, it's fine???

must have just been excess from the meteor shower or some trashy neighbors

days go by, the plants get bigger, about the height of your hips. they remain very still, disconcertingly so. no reactions to sunlight nor water, but they consume both normally

they remain completely stagnant no matter what and it's weird

also might smell just a bit too sweet for no particular reason

the leaves feel somewhat....fuzzy? sticky?? it's kind of like touching a rubber sticky hand but with little bitty bumps all over

they also snap closed like flytraps if you touch them, curling up towards the stems

still nothing, despite them taking a whole 3 days to reach what is assumed to be their maturity at hip height. you leave it at that, the studying will continue with or without you

at home things are....weird

things are not where you put them outside, pots are moved, for whatever reason it looks like the racoons got into the potting soil

you leave it at that, continuing the study regardless of the mess outside then it spreads further

things on your porch are moved, muddy marks smeared across the door the next day, 

.....there's a trail of dirt treaded through the entirety of the entryway/kitchen

and the tracks on the walls are almost in the shape of fingers

Police are called but they can't find anything. despite the dirt there are no discernible footprints nor fingerprints

it's written off as a stray animal

but you know that's not true]

how could an animal open a locked door

days pass, you're staying at a friends house, the study continues 

absolutely nothing of note, beyond the plant 'flowering' strange, tubelike bulbs shaped like dripping wax

you end up going back to your house, there's paperwork you forgot about that's important to the study

 .............the place is a wreck

dirt and mud is everywhere, spread across the walls and doors outside, clumps of wildflowers and grass tossed around wildly. the inside is, somehow, almost fine

if you didn't count the absolute trashing of everything you own being tossed to the floors in every room as if it had been ransacked

as far as they know, the odd human just up disappeared without reason. they...might have thrown a bit of a fit more Emmet than Ingo

of course you go to call the police again, but you stop dead there's a mirror in your bedroom, untouched remarkably, the wall opposite reflected perfectly it's a set of handprints, dark mud shaped around four, misshapen and clawed fingers ........something clatters outside a shadow zips across the window with pounding footsteps away from the house, off the porch and across the backyard its getting late, the sun is setting at just the right angle to cast the house's shadow over the lawn the shape disappears into the pitch black barn without a sound

you cross the backyard, giving chase 

someone was in your house, the police would not stop them 

the shotgun was old, but it did it's job well enough

the barn door is old and rusted, left open for far too long in too many storms 

it won't budge an inch as you nudge your way in 

...it's very dark in the twilight 

you pull out your flashlight 

....there's not much in the barn, just a few bales of excess hay and the old tractor your father left you, rusting away in the derelict place 

...the sunset beams in through the holes in the roof, casting a faint ethereal glow to the dust motes in the air

you move in closer, investigating 

.......something wriggles out of sight, against the far wall

you yell, but nobody answers 

it's quiet

 ..............the walls are old, wood rotting near the bottom 

mold might be growing on it, or maybe it was just mud

 ......the hay bales are mostly to the back, out of the way of work during the day, they line the furthest walls on both sides 

.....some of them have been knocked down, hay is scattered everywhere ......................something slides behind a cluster of bales, piled hastily and in a sloppy clump

the hay, though tall, didn't reach the back wall, just enough room to squeeze through

but you don't, you're not stupid

wisely, you go to leave

............wild flutters pull your eyes up, from above something zips across the rafters

the shotgun barrel gleams in the fading light, up against your shoulder tightly

the owl flutters away into the approaching night, flying out through the craters in the roof

...................you remember your studies, in the dark barn

how they lived, unmoving regardless of most stimuli, consuming both water and light yet not bothering to reach either when removed

.........they never got higher than your hips

..........................they are like trees in the barn, great leaves reaching up like hands 

there are two of them, attached like parasites to one another in a network of vine and root alike

neither of them breach the roof, even as their thin leaves reach out, purple glowing in the approaching darkness

they are attached to the walls, knotted into the beams seamlessly 

.........a slit stretched up through their trunks like a burst fruit, bioluminescence tainting the flesh a faint bluish/silver

......something clatters in the silent air at your back'

[betweenlands]

you already know who i'm gonna ask for. bell noises ~autisticlalna

saved this one for last as motivation/a little treat for me. vikingpilot time

First impression: hm. blonde? goggles? supposedly a little unhinged? that’s a lalna (sorry)

Impression now: BLORBO OF ALL TIME. ohhhmygod i am so not normal about this ghost man it’s unreal. he contains so many blorbo traits and i love him so very much. i’m rattling him. i’m spinning him. i’m going to put him in the microwave sliced partially but not entirely in half in order to create plasma.

Favorite moment: you’d think it would be The Monologue but no actually, it’s him initially telling legundo about the iou while they’re in the graveyard. that entire interaction is so good

Unpopular opinion: oh hell man idk. i guess, like... i think he might not be 100% evil, actually? this is only unpopular because it’s a really recent theory of mine where it’s like. he seems poised to be evil but there’s some really odd foreshadowing implying that he does genuinely care about the other dominioners

Favorite relationship: honestly i can’t choose, all his interactions w/ people are stellar. i guess him and legundo bc those scenes are always tense as hell and also extremely funny in retrospect

Favorite headcanon: aaaaaaaAAAA OKAY. SO. pliking. aka, plural viking. when whoever viking used to be opened the Forbidden Book, it broke his brain apart into little itty bitty fragments that each only retain a fraction of what was read, like each of them have a different section memorized. the reason viking’s so used to the political posturing and mind games of dominion on the whole is that he’s been doing it amongst himself for a very long time, with each section being kind of different in terms of attributes -- some of them are aspects of who he used to be, some of them are aspects of who he thinks he used to be, some of them are just different aspects entirely, but all of them together form a mostly cohesive persona and that’s who viking is. full of ghosts containing eldritch knowledge.

Idea for a story: see above. i want to write something with this very badly

[forthelanterns]

TealDeer: I write short fiction for fun and profit! Here's a list of all the things that are out (or going to be out) in the world. Plus, at the bottom, I have a list of all the short pieces that are going to be on submission when I can, you know, finish them.

Okay, so here is an odd little list of things I've gotten published in some capacity since 2018. There will be links to all the ones you can read online for free, and if you wanna read the other ones, I'll happily link those too but for now, you'll just get titles.

Feel free to let me know if you read any of it, like stuff, or have any questions! I'm delighted to have people poke my brain in regard to this stuff. Plus, it's a way to remind me to work on all the itty bitty stories that live in my head.

Oh, btw, both the names do belong to me. I just switched over pen names in 2020 for extremely personal and complicated reasons.

Available for free:

Hear Our Call And Remember - He wasn’t supposed to remember who he was, how fragmented and tangled he had once been, and, more than anything, how he had obtained a mortal skin.

Seedling - There's a young god standing in my doorway.

This Is Not A Ghost Story - In the darkness of her bedroom, after her mother has gone to bed and she’s supposed to have done the same, she tells stories to the ghosts. 

What We Make Of The Dead - The dead girls sit in a row, each one with their blood still staining their hands.

Other things that are available, just not for free:

And The Water Said Kneel (forthcoming)

We Carry What's Ours (forthcoming)

This Isn't The Movie You Started

Hands, Heart Hunger

Show Your Neck, Bare Your Teeth.

Doctors, Mothers, Soldiers Ghosts

The Streets Whisper

For The Taking, For The Making

The Empty Night, The Hungry Sky

And I Never Woke

The Sky And The Sand, The Sea And The Stars

I Will Make You Holy

This Was Never A Vigilthe magpie

Your Heart In My Teeth

An incomplete list of short fiction WIPs:

In The End, We Will Prosper

Static and the Wide Open Dark

Let It Out, Bare Yoru Teeth

Blood and the Words On Your Skin

By The Grace of the Fire

The Gods In Wire And Rhythm

Grand Me Courage Or Send Me Home

Visions and Blackouts

With The Stars In Mind

Feather By Feather, Drop By Drop

We Love Without Mercy

The Last Words In the Speakeasy

Collection: Slight Stories for Small Spaces

Collection: Bleeding from the Sugar Glass

[hansolmates]

shiver | 09

banner by the lovely @dnrequests​

summary; jungkook changed since he moved out of his small town church community and attended college. when he returns for a christmas mass, you suddenly crave a taste of his fun and carefree life. in exchange, jungkook craves a taste of you pairing; bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, coercion, brief childhood friends to enemies, fwb!au, catholic guilt, jungkook is a meanie who eventually turns into a soft tsundere, bicuriosity, sexual exploration, virgin!oc, eventual smut—in this installment, I KNOW it does not take 2 hours to reach level 9 blond esp on asian hair, hair aficionados pls don’t sue me w/c; 879 a/n; last installment before everything comes into place! this pairing is just so delightfully awkward and mildly uncomfortable sometimes, sometimes i try to imagine this pairing in their childhood bumbling around and it still reflects in their adulthood. next part will be tomorrow, and it will be 😳 enjoy! [shiver masterpost]

“They keep saying that there’s this grand plan in the world, and we’re all just itty-bitty fragments of it.” You kick petulantly at the snow that hasn’t been shoveled yet, “small, minor, and insignificant.”

“What do you mean,” Jungkook mumbles, his words warm and grey with frost when he exhales in the cold day.

“I mean that we’re servants to this grand plan,” you say plainly, as if defeated, “and I’m trying to wrap my head around why that doesn’t seem so appealing now.” 

Jungkook never realized how smart you really are. Sure, his parents have told him stories about how you would be able to crunch numbers and create full potluck dinners in a matter of hours, or how you would be able to stop the loudest of babies in the cry room with your softest blanket and a bedtime story. 

You’ve always been questioning, moreto yourself than anything. Jungkook always wondered where the energy went, the hours upon hours of dedication to the deity. Where does this spent exhaustion lead to, is he building up credit to save himself or to serve? 

Your presence is muted, but strong. Your white puffy jacket helps you meld between the snowflakes, your face barely popping out with your scarf wrapped tightly around your neck. The beanie you’re wearing has an oversized white pom-pom, bouncing like a cotton-tailed rabbit as  you walk down the street. 

“Yeah, that scared me a lot,” Jungkook doesn’t know how to add anything articulate, so he settles for being honest, “when I first came to school here, I kinda went wild.” 

“Kinda?” 

“Okay, majorly,” Jungkook sulks, kicking a random stone on the pavement, “fucked around, painted on the walls, did drugs.” 

“You still do those things.”

“Only fucking around with you, like I promised,” Jungkook replies pointedly, “and now I only paint on walls I’m paid to do. And I stopped trying drugs after Easter of freshman year.” 

“Oddly specific,” you put a finger on your lips, “have you ever tried acid?” 

He guaffs, “Do you even know what acid’s like?” 

“Sounds bad. I mean it’s literally called acid.” 

The two of you stop at an intersection. There’s a bunch of stores on both ends of the street. The roads seem to narrow, and you move away from Jungkook and jab your finger in a vague direction, “I have to do something over there,” you say. 

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, “Okay. I’ll wait for you,” he gestures to the bags in his hands. Secondhand textbooks that the two of you went to pick up together. You didn’t plan to meet prior, however happenstance had you two meeting eyes in the corner of the tiny rental store. 

“You don’t have to, we didn’t come together anyway.” 

“You’re being secretive,” Jungkook peeks over to the inconspicuous street, unsure of what you’re planning to do. “Are you going to do something impulsive?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Okay,” he shrugs, “I’ll go do something impulsive too. Meet you here in two hours?” 

You make a face as Jungkook whips the other way, carrying your bags over his shoulder as he crosses the street. A funny guy, you think, as you walk to your intended way. Getting to know Jeon Jungkook as an adult is a whole different ball game. 

Maybe him breaking your heart all those weeks ago was a good thing. A reset. You’re able to see Jungkook for more than the childhood love you held near and dear to your heart. Although that part of yourself might never disappear because first loves are flawed to be unforgettable, it’s nice to constantly be surprised by Jungkook’s mannerisms as a young man. 

When you finally find the shop you enter as quietly as possible, minding the concentration that steeps the room. 

“Jamais Vu Tattoo, can I help you?” you can’t help but smile at the receptionist for unintentionally making a half-rhyme. 

“Hi, I have an appointment with Yoongi?” 

“Your hair!” 

“You like it?” 

Feeling grabby, you get on your tippy toes to admire the freshly dyed locks. Your fingers weave between the white-gold strands, amazed at the fact it only took two hours for it to lift. The toner didn’t pull all the brassiness, however you quite like the dark roots, making him look a little more rugged. You didn’t know that this type of color could be possible in such little time, but then again Jungkook never ceases to surprise you. 

“Your hair’s still a little crunchy,” you muse, feeling a bit of crispy ends despite the trim he also received. 

Jungkook frowns, “It’ll be fine.” 

“I have a hair mask at home, swing by so you can borrow it.” 

“Don’t need a hair mask,” he grumbles, “I have my own.” 

You giggle, scrunching your nose and hiding your nose in your scarf. One thing you used to admire about Jungkook is his attention to cleanliness. In high school, most boys were gross and wouldn’t bother to care for the little things—laundry, a skincare routine, a work ethic. Jungkook makes sure his hair is kempt and his skin clear. 

“It’s cute,” you declare, “and pretty."

“I dyed my hair blond because it’s sexy, not cute,” Jungkook scrunches his brows together. 

“Cute,” you repeat, walking ahead of him and into the street.