#in bed is where I do most of my very unhealthy overthinking

[wtfuckevenknows]

42 and 43 maybe?

Hiiii anon :) Thanks for the prompts, I'll do the other one tomorrow, because I should already be in bed. I'm hoping you meant the kiss prompts and since you didn't give me a ship I'm just assuming Tarlos.

This was supposed to be a fluffy joyful thing and then it turned into this somehow and I've been overthinking it (@noxsoulmate @goodways @paperstorm & @thebumblecee had to listen to me whine about it) but I'm gonna say fuck it and post it the way it is and go to sleep trying not to think about it anymore 😂

42: a kiss out of pride 

They were in New York together for the first time, visiting Jonah and Enzo and coincidentally it was also Pride week. 

When TK had cautiously brought up the idea of walking in the pride parade in Austin Carlos hadn't felt comfortable “flaunting” his sexuality for his family, his employer, people he knew to see. 

He wasn't ashamed, neither of his sexuality nor of TK, but it had taken him a long time to be comfortable in his own skin, to realize there was nothing wrong with him, to accept himself as he was. And while he didn’t hide, he also didn't feel like putting on a show, being looked at by people who knew him, people he might encounter on the job. 

So when he learned that they would be in New York City during THE pride parade of all pride parades, he wanted to extend an olive branch to TK, who had been disappointed in Carlos refusal to walk the parade in Austin, even though he never said anything. But Carlos knew his husband. 

New York had the added bonus of anonymity. No one knew him, he was just somebody walking in the parade, looking hot as sin (TK’s words, not his) in a white mesh shirt and black silk shorts. TK looked fabulous on his arm, wearing nothing but a black thong (little exhibitionist that he was), his body covered in glitter. 

Carlos nearly had a stroke when he realized the thong was all TK was planning to wear to the parade. But far be it for him to tell TK what to wear, as long as he felt comfortable (and stayed close to Carlos, so he could make sure everyone else kept their hands to themselves), he could do whatever he wanted.

Carlos was a little (or a lot) turned on by TK’s confidence. His husband was dancing carefree to the music being played on the float in front of them while they marched in the streets of NYC. He was so absolutely, all consuming, ridiculously in love with TK, he just had to pull him towards him by his hand, planting a fiery kiss on his husband’s lips. 

You can find the other prompt fills here or on ao3.

Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss

[animeyanderelover]

Since you're starting JJK, can you do the sleeping with a yandere ask for Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Nanami, Gojo and characters of your choice?

I’ll be going on a vacation during my holidays so expect little to no updates from me then. Those sleeping habits that are what I imagine those characters to be like, by the way.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationship, toxic relationship, obsession, possessive behavior, delusion, clinginess, abduction

Sleeping with a Yandere

Itadori Yuji

🩷​Yuji is a walking cuddle bear already if you two aren't sleeping in the same bed because he just can't get enough of his sweetheart. An abduction is never something that Yuji sees himself doing nor do you really so with the so unexpected abduction your relationship falls apart and it breaks Yuji's heart. Maybe some part of his brain can understand why you're as upset as you are right now but considering that he only resorts to an abduction in extreme situations, another part of him is just as stubborn to believe that he has done only something to be able to protect you. It isn't like he plans to imprison you forever after all. His delusions have even made him hope that you'd want to share a bed with him yet he resigns himself to your rejection and prepares a futon for you in another room.

🩷​One of the most obvious problems with Yuji isn't even something that is his own fault. Sukuna has to make some comments from time to time to try to annoy and anger the boy which might happen whilst both of you try to sleep as well. He always slaps the mouth of Sukuna that suddenly appears and apologizes to you slightly embarrassed about the inconvenience. Otherwise Yuji sleeps well, really well. Maybe sometimes a bit too well as you can't help but wonder how you can get him to wake up when you awake in the middle of the night and feel the urgent need to go to the bathroom. It always takes you a minute or two of shaking, light slapping and whispering his name until he wakes up and lets you out of his arms because his grip is too strong for you to free yourself alone. He snores slightly but that isn't the worst, you'd much rather make a fuss about the fact that he tends to drool on you in his sleep.

Fushiguro Megumi

💙​As Megumi's darling you'd do the both of you a favor by being a reassuring individual since the Jujutsu Sorcerer tends to be very easily paranoid. He's had a case of being stressed around people before yet now with your addition to his life, this all becomes just multiple times worse. Ultimately it is this paranoia that drives him to the act of an abduction and similar to Yuji, he partially knows why it would scare you. Yet he has never had problems with justifying questionable actions with his love for you in mind so this won't be any different in this scenario. Why don't you understand that this was all done for your safety?? A strong negative response from your side leads to avoidance as he gives you time, gives himself partially time too to calm himself. Both of you sleep in different rooms during that time, although you know that he still keeps an eye on you.

💙​He doesn't want to show a very strong response when both of you start sharing a bed, it isn't his style. He would be lying though if he would say that he isn't looking forward to it. It's one of the highlights of his entire day where he has to exhaust himself with the antics of his fellow Jujutsu Sorcerers and pressure from the Zenin clan so spending the hours of the night with your warmth close to his body always reminds him that there's still something good left for him, a person who makes all the drama durable. I see him as someone who needs hours to fall asleep simply because there's so much going on in his mind and often it happens that Megumi goes through interactions you had with people that day and start overthinking certain gestures and words you exchanged with them. He isn't someone with a deep sleep either and worst of all is that he tends to wake up a lot at night, his gaze always searching for you every time that happens and if he doesn't see you, he tends to freak out a bit.

Zenin Maki

💚​If her darling is acting like a crybaby after their abduction, there might be signs of very mild annoyance from Maki's side but otherwise she is very patient. She fully understand why you're upset and mad at her, she's aware of what she has done. The aspect of protection dulls potential guilt though as she will always value your safety and life over your own feelings if there is no other way around it. She's so tough and strict but oddly fair at the same time because her cold facade doesn't mean that she just doesn't care at all. She's willing to give you some space and time for yourself as she's sure that you need it and as long as you don't try to escape or are seriously rude, she won't force you into anything. You get your own room with your own bed to sleep in and won't hear much from her for the next few days, although you know that she's still checking on you.

💚​She is looking forward to it but don't expect her to openly admit that. She isn't one to ask you first about this and if you're the one to suggest it first, she will never spot teasing you subtly about it for the rest of your life. She does her best though to suppress the smug grin that wants to appear on her face during the first few nights. She isn't actively cuddling you but you definitely have a problem at hand when she decides to swing an arm around your waist because subconsciously she tightens her grip once she falls asleep and since she has a very superior strength to the average human, you won't get up anytime soon unless you wake her up. She normally is able to sleep quite well but when she's stressed she experiences troubles falling asleep or tends to wake up multiple times at night. Normally she acts all tough and rarely talks to you about her own worries but if you ever witness her having an erratic sleep at night, you always know that there's something that is stressing her out.

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾His darling is screwed no matter how you might look at it, especially if they're only a human. Because this man has made it very apparent that he doesn't care for anyone or anything and even you won't be an exception for this. Sukuna has always been a man who takes what he wants and that applies for you just as much. You're an object of his affection and greedy desire, by all means he sees you as his valued possession more than he sees you as a person with feelings and rights. So you can't expect any sympathy from him after your abduction and you'd do your best to not get on his nerves because he can hurt you and he will do so if he feels like it. Sukuna only does what he wants and the only thing you can really do is take it silently in hopes of not angering him but he'd find it cute if you would always show a little bit of fear around him.

🗾​I'm not even sure if he needs any sleep anymore since his times as a human are long over although he has kept his memories from that time so he still remembers that humans need sleep. Although what you need doesn't have to mean by a long shot that he'll just give it to you freely. In fact I totally see him terrorizing your sleep sometimes for the shallow reason of his own sadistic amusement. Other times he only allows you to fall asleep if you let him join you in bed and he'll keep you otherwise awake nights on end until you're too tired to care anymore. You're incredibly dumb for letting him so close to you in your most vulnerable state and the times that he has considered abusing that vulnerability are numerous. Honestly, he's being the ultimate creep by just watching you sleep the entire time, hands roaming over your body to feel what is his but if he's feeling rather relaxed and mellow, he sometimes just buries his face in your neck, closes his eyes and enjoys your scent, your warmth, your heartbeat.

Gojo Satoru

🩵​Best of luck with Gojo after an abduction, better say goodbye to your privacy and personal boundaries because Gojo? He just doesn't give a single fuck about any of those. No, somehow he grows even more overbearing after you're permanently stuck in the probably biggest house that you've ever been in. Partially just because he feels like he has now his dream of living a peaceful and domestic life with his sweet lover without any stress from higher-ups or anyone objecting to this relationship. Now he can just love you and keep you for himself. It's a very strange and questionable way of fulfilling his dream but he is at a point in his life where he has given up to feel guilty and doesn't care anymore. He's always been the strongest to satisfy his own clan and the higher-ups of the sorcerer world so he deserves someone for himself. Someone for him and him only.

🩵​He's a clingy monster and you should already know this as he has barely kept his hands to himself during the entire time since you've known him and that has only grown worse the stronger his obsession got. There is no question, you are going to sleep with him in one bed from the moment you are imprisoned in your new home with him. He isn't even listening to your protests and complains and you'd better not provoke him unless you want to see him dropping his light-hearted facade. Seeing him asleep disturbs you but not because of his clingy behavior and tight hug he always gives you nor his surprisingly deep sleep but because he looks so terribly vulnerable. White hair covering his eyes, soft breaths escaping his lips and no teasing expression adorning his face. It's even worse when he initially wakes up and blue and sleepy eyes stare at you as he whispers, no, pleads you to never leave him. It breaks your heart a little.

Geto Suguru

🗻​​Suguru has broken your trust severely when you realize what he has been doing all along, abusing your trust and ignorance to his own advantage until you made him your most trusted person and told him all of your thoughts. Now you're here, imprisoned and surrounded by jujutsu sorcerers who share his views. You're a lesser being in here for being a non-sorcerer and you know that secretly most of the people here look down on you but only show some level of respect because you're Geto's precious love or whatever he's feeling for you. No one tells you what's really going on but you are smart enough to understand that those people possess very special powers and that something is always watching you even when you're all by yourself. So you never misbehave, aware what would happen otherwise.

🗻​He isn't over the fact that he's fallen in love with what he hates the most even after an abduction so you are sleeping elsewhere. A tiny room with a futon as if to rub your lesser position in your face but truth be told, he's doing this mainly because he secretly wants your warmth next to him at night. He's just trying to reject his desires as he doesn't want to fall too deeply into his infatuation but it's already too late to turn back and perhaps you're more surprised than anyone when one day he tells you you'll share a bed with him from now on. You even vocalize your confusion but shut up when he throws you a sharp glare, silencing you as he himself doesn't want to answer your question. Vocalizing his needs would only make it harder to brush off as something less after all. Geto doesn't want to show too much affection but subconsciously he always fails as his half-awake form always pulls you closer to his body, always desires to feel your warm body safely held against his own as his long hair tickles your neck and face.

Nanami Kento

💛​Here we have a man who is trying to be his most respectful to you after an abduction that he has been planning for a longer time now after a triggering accident, most likely something regarding his very protective feelings. He isn't scolding you for being scared and even lets you insult him all you want with a frightening calm expression on his face, only really stopping you if you try to escape, hurt him or yourself in which case you see his face flashing in anger and slight frustration as you realize how scary he can be if he chooses to be. He gives you space as much as he can but even then his presence is felt throughout your entire new life as you realize that Nanami apparently enjoys taking care of you to the point where he's being controlling with it. There's a certain schedule to your life now, one that he has prepared specifically for you.

💛​This even includes your bedtime as you have to be at a certain hour in bed and get enough sleep and have to get up at a certain time in the morning. Nanami isn't forcing you to share a bed with him though as he graciously prepares another room for you to stay and sleep in. So it's a decision based on consens after your abduction to sleep with him and he's another case of showing his emotions in a very controlled way whilst being deep down just relieved that the worst phrase of the abduction seems to be over now. His sleeping schedule is just as meticulous though so both of you go to the bed at the same time and stand up in the morning at the same time. Nanami is also another candidate who needs a bit longer until he falls asleep because he's also thinking a lot when he lies in bed and only silence surrounds him. He has always an arm wrapped around you but the grip isn't too tight for you to not be able to free yourself if you should ever feel the need to visit the toilet. He is a bit more of a sensitive sleeper though so try to be quiet if you don't want to wake him up.

[donutloverxo]

Nude

Run through - Steve wants to try new things so he takes a painting class with a nude painting subject. Only the woman he has to paint are you, Peppers assistant and his crush.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

Steve Rogers was many things. He was an artist, an amateur cook (who really does try), a loyal friend, a good citizen, a soldier. Yet when people looked at him, they only ever saw the captain. His friends called him cap. He'd go weeks without hearing his own name. Sometimes he felt the lines were blurred. When did Steve Rogers end and Captain America begin?

He had a big wake up call when he confronted Tony, saying he wasn’t iron man, it was an alter ego. To which Tony said that Steve was basically captain America. And Steve couldn’t argue or disagree, because it was true. He didn’t want to lose himself in his work anymore than he already had. His therapist told him to make healthy boundaries, which is what he’s going to do.

So he ordered some colors and pencils online and got to work on his art, for the first time in a long time. It was exhilarating and freeing. He could lose himself in it, go on for hours without thinking and seeing anything but the colors and his canvas. Which was extremely rare for him. He could rarely ever shut his brain off or run from his traumatic memories.

Everyone could see the visible change in him. How he seemed happier. Clint even joked about it saying

“Cap must be getting some”

To which Steve only snorted. There was no room for anything as complicated as a relationship or sex in his life, not right now.

But wouldn’t it be nice? To have a woman to hold and to paint. To love and care for. He didn’t let himself delve too much into that fantasy. Because even if it was a nice escape once in a while, he knew that while Steve Rogers might make a good partner, Captain America would certainly not. He would never subject any woman to deal with either of them.

With some encouragement from Sam and his old friends he started attending painting classes at his alma mater, the Brooklyn College, every Saturday evening. It helped him make some friends. He didn’t know if he could call them friends. Most of them were too different from him. They seemed like different types of 'tortured artists'

When he heard that there would be a nude subject to paint the next class, he was a little bit hesitant. Such a thing would’ve been scandalous in the 40s. But he was trying to open himself up and that meant pushing his comfort zone, even just a little bit.

When he set up his canvas, oil colors and brushes that Saturday he expected male subject. He didn’t however expect to hear a woman’s voice. He was too focused on his set up to look up, whatever. He didn’t care if it was a man or a woman. There wouldn't be anything erotic about it. This was strictly professional and educational.

He looked up to take a good look at his subject, when he felt as if his soul was knocked out of him. There you stood, his crush, Pepper Potts' assistant, and the woman who turned him down.

“You know back in my day they used to play elevator music” He said to drown out the awkward silence. Even after all this time, he still didn’t know how to talk to women. He had had a crush on you since the moment he laid eyes on you. You were always so funny and sweet. Asking him and everyone about their day, if they were doing well. Always willing to help others.

When he let it slip that he likes banana bread, you baked him a whole loaf of it, which chocolate chips so ‘so you think of me when you have them. They’re my signature of sorts' you had said proudly. Of course he’d be thinking of you when he ate it. Overthinking actually. Wondering If you like him as he likes you, or if you’re just being your sweet self.

“Oh we still have that!” You chirped “but not in um professional or business buildings like these”

He just nodded. Tapping his foot impatiently. You would get off in just six floors it was now or never. “Hey uh – what are you doing this Friday?” he asked shyly.

“Oh just watching some Gordon Ramsay with my dog probably. I have no life” you laughed at your own self depreciating joke “Why?” you tilted your head.

“I was thinking, maybe we could get dinner? Only if you uh – you wanted to, you're free to say no” he promised. Maybe he should’ve asked you to ‘hang out' or 'for a coffee' like most people these days. But he felt that was no way to treat a lady, especially one like you.

“Oh Steve” he was already disappointed upon hearing your tone “I would’ve loved to. But even though we don’t work together, it wouldn’t look good you know? I mean I don’t care much for 'my image'” You said making air quotes “But I don’t, it’ll be complicated” You looked completely defeated. As if it hurt you to say no more than it hurt him to hear it.

“I completely understand” He nodded “no hard feelings” he gave you a smile as he watched you walk away. It did break his heart a bit, but he’d respect your feelings.

He looked at you taking off your satin robe revealing your bare body to the class of twenty or so artists. His breathe hitched. Your hair flowing down your back and covering a bit of your left breast, your soft stomach and thighs, the patch of soft curls at your core, your nipples hard against the chilly air, and how your stomach rolled a bit as you sat uncomfortably on the stool. You were beautiful. A work of art even. There was absolutely no way he could do you justice. He started drawing an outline on his canvas. You would very well be his best subject.

You looked around a bit, your fingers holding onto the stool for dear life so you could stave off the anxiety and feeling of being so exposed. Then your eyes landed on him. You thought you were dreaming, maybe you didn’t see properly, so you did a double take. Then you were frozen on the spot. There he was, Captain Rogers, the first Avenger, the man you often dreamt about, sitting right in front of you while you were naked as the day you were born.

You had no idea what you should do. This was literally like a nightmare come true. If you flee it would look bad, if you didn’t it might look worse. You decided you’d follow his lead. So you peeked a glance at him from the corner of your eyes and saw him, sketching you? Holy shit Steve Rogers was drawing a nude portrait of you. What has your life become?

You had always been insecure about your body. You knew magazines, porn and movies were meant to feed people lies to get them to buy more things. That didn’t make you feel any less bad about not looking anything like the women in them. You tried to remind yourself that you have many things going for you. Like your supporting family, your loving friends, your cute labrador, your amazing job.

Speaking of your job, exactly why you turned Steve freaking Rogers down! A man that looks like him asking you out and you say no. Your friends flat out laughed in your face at your unfortunate predicament, where the cake is right there but you can't eat it. Now that you thought about it, it was funny.

Your co-workers weren’t kind to you. Even on your best day you didn’t look anything like the women you worked with, who would stab you in the back the first chance the get. You were kind to everyone, but you knew by now not to expect the same treatment back. Which was why you had to say no to the beefy blonde. You didn’t want to be branded as the ‘office slut’.

Which now you were sure you would be. You didn’t know Steve enough to know he’d be willing to keep this a secret. He didn’t seem like someone who would do that to you. But you still couldn’t help but think the worst.

You squirmed and shivered in the chair for a good part of the next two hours. By the end your back was sore and you did everything you could to avoid looking at Steve, only sneaking glances here and there, while he seemed too engrossed in his work.

You had done this a couple of times before, to accept your body for what it is and get comfortable with it. If you weren’t going to love it no one would do it for you. Finally the time was up and the artists were asked to pack up for the day.

You quickly got up from your stool putting the robe back on. You turned your back to Steve, stretching your muscles. You couldn’t wait to lay down on your comfy bed and just get out of here. But you knew you needed to have that inevitable conversation. You probably would never be able to look Steve in the eye after this.

You walked towards him as he was cleaning up his work station. “Fancy seeing you here” You cringed at your embarrassing attempt at a British accent.

“Hey there” He gave you a bashful smile scratching the back of his head “I didn’t expect to see you here”

“Right back at ya” you returned his smile, no longer feeling on edge. It was strange how his presence served to comfort you.

“You do this often” he asked casually. You couldn’t really hear any judgement in his tone, not what you would expect from a hundred year old.

“No not really. It just uh – I’m trying to love myself. Which I already do! Of course” you let out a nervous chuckle “just trying new things and stepping out of my comfort zone”

“That makes two of us” he said as he was done packing his bag, which he was deliberately doing at a slow pace. He didn’t want to leave. Not yet.

“Can I... Look at your painting?” You asked nervously. You didn’t know if you wanted to see his interpretation of your naked body, what if it was bad? But what if it was good? What if he was impressed by you...

“Uh it’s not done yet. And frankly I’m not that good”

“I seriously doubt that. I’ve seen the sketches in your office” You caught your slip of tongue. You couldn’t let him know about your borderline unhealthy obsession with him.

“Well, have a look then” he relented showing you his canvas.

You let out a breathe you didn’t even know you were holding at the painting. It was breath-taking. The woman looked like you, but why was she so beautiful and graceful? In the painting she was sitting on a stool, like you, in front of a tree admiring a rose in her hand. She was naked as well. It reminded you of classic Greek paintings where women weren’t perfect, but were celebrated for their imperfections.

“It’s amazing Steve. I – do I look like that?” You stammered not being able to tear your eyes off the painting.

He shook his head at your shock “On the contrary you look much better I’m glad you like it”

“You’re a great artist” you gushed

“I don’t know about that. I’ve seen much better” he said humbly.

You would argue with him. But you knew it would be of no use. Looking at the beautiful woman in the painting gave you the surge of confidence you needed “Steve, does the offer for that dinner still stand?” You straightened your back looking up to lock eyes with him.

“Yes” He blurted without even thinking “how about tomorrow evening?” He asked.

“Yes that will be awesome! You can pick me up at seven. I’ll text you the address“ you said making an mental note to do so.

You could hardly wait for your date. You didn’t really care about what your co-workers would think of you. As long as you were happy their opinions didn’t matter.

Tags will be in the reblog! If you want in on the taglist click the link in the bio or send me an ask!

Please do not steal or repost my works. Reblogs are welcome.

This was actually a request. But I can't fir the life of me find the person who requested it. I hope you see it babes❤

[makeste]

I just wanna enable you to talk more about Katsuki so. top 5 (or 10, or however many you feel like) Bakugou romantic ships? not like number 1 will be a surprise but hey ;p

ah, shipping. the perfect topic with which to take a breather from leg puns and the quirkless!Bakugou debate. nothing controversial about ships lmao.

disclaimer: these are literally just my favorite Bakugou ships, as asked. I have few to no NOTPs, and I’m not anti-anything, nor do I have any opinions on whether or not any of these will or should become canon (as it really makes no difference to me, since I ship them all platonically as well). basically I have no skin in the “shipping somehow has winners and losers” game. I’m just here for the emotional energy and the lulz and the character development.

anyways this is a top six because I couldn’t bear to leave either of my two favorite rarepairs out whoops.

BakuDeku - like you said anon, not a surprise lol. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; for me, these two are the core of the series. honestly it sometimes strikes me as ironic that this ship is so often written off as abusive or unhealthy or toxic, because I often find myself thinking that roughly 90% of all of Bakugou and Deku’s problems could be sorted out just by them communicating with each other. and I don’t mean just their own specific relationship problems -- I mean all of their problems. Bakugou is having an emotional crisis about something? have him talk to Deku. Deku’s overwhelmed by a problem and way overthinking it? have him talk to Bakugou! they balance each other out, is the thing. when one of them veers off course, the other is the compass to steer them back on track. that’s the power of rivals!! and aside from that, this relationship is just so complex, and I am weak for absolutely all of it. it’s just this perfect blend of push and pull and friction and trust. it’s the type of ship where the two of them have such a strong connection that it’s like gravity; they can’t help but orbit the other, even when that orbit is sometimes unsteady. it’s just such a powerful bond and just... guh. I have way too many emotions about it so I am just going to STOP NOW and move on to the next ship.

TodoBaku - so by now we have reached a point where pretty much everyone in class 1-A is an expert on handling Bakugou, and ngl, it’s my favorite thing ever. but what makes the TodoBaku relationship so especially appealing is that Shouto is completely unafraid to just step right up and declare his friendship to the entire world. Todoroki “I’m calling it like it is” Shouto, who, after giving the matter careful consideration, correctly judged himself and Bakugou to be the closest of friends, and thus decided that they should intern together and he should introduce him to his family and get his sister to cook his favorite foods. and the entire time, Bakugou is all “please no one listen to this delusional freak, we are not friends at all,” even as he proceeds to get himself involved in all of the Todoroki family drama, and saves Shouto’s brother’s life, and learns all of his sister’s recipes, and presumably cries himself to sleep at night wondering how he could have let this happen.

Kacchako - what I like about Ochako’s relationship with Katsuki is that she’s one of the few people who’s not afraid to call him out on his shit. she’s not just warmly tolerant of him like some of the others; she has expectations of him, and will unabashedly express her sound disappointment if he fails to be the person she knows he’s capable of being. I feel like Ochako has no patience for him taking his sweet time with his character development, and is just “goddammit young man, just sort your shit out with Deku already and go back to being best friends like you both so clearly want, and while you’re at it please try to treat other people less like garbage”, and various other things that are all true but that he of course hates to hear, but TOO BAD lol. anyway so I love that, and I love that she’s just as stubborn as he is. and I also love that there’s genuine, mutual respect between the two of them as well. never forget that Katsuki is the one who first brought out Ochako’s homicidal badass side. anyway so they basically complement each other very well, and I have my fingers crossed that one of these days Horikoshi will decide to actually have them interact with each other again because damn.

KiriBaku - Kirishima, on the other hand, is warmly tolerant of Bakugou, and openly admiring of him even, but it tends to be in a way that brings out Bakugou’s best qualities. Kiri just has this way of bringing out Bakugou’s confidence in himself. like, he’s very good at saying precisely the right words to make Bakugou grin that smirky little grin of his, the one that’s all “oh yeah, that’s right, I’m a badass.” and seeing as Bakugou, for all his pride and bluster, is surprisingly prone to having mini crises of confidence, this is a valued skill that I’m very grateful to Kiri for having! and what’s nice is that Bakugou is very good at returning the favor, since Kiri is prone to crises of confidence as well. the little flashback right before Kiri unveils Unbreakable for the first time is one of my favorite moments in the series. when this ship is firing on all cylinders they really bring out the best in each other. and also they are both dumb bros which is an extremely undervalued dynamic. I love it when Bakugou is all “HEY KIRISHIMA LET ME BLOW YOU UP A BIT” and Kiri is just like “YEAHHHH!” heh.

KamiBaku - and now for the first of the two rarepairs! first of all I would just like to state that I absolutely cannot fathom why KamiBaku is a rarepair to begin with, unless it’s simply because everyone is already too obsessed with the previously mentioned ships. but at any rate it’s a damn shame, because the cuteness of this ship is off the fucking charts, and right now it’s all just going to waste. what I adore more than anything about this ship is the way Bakugou tolerates every single fucking thing Kaminari does and LETS HIM GET AWAY WITH IT. he lets him call him “Kacchan.” he lets Kaminari manhandle him into various getups (the A Band shirt; the Santa outfit) on multiple occasions while putting up absolutely no fight. he basically allows him an almost unprecedented level of closeness, which Kaminari proceeds to BLATANTLY TAKE ADVANTAGE OF at every turn seemingly unchecked! and he is the all time champ at tricking Bakugou into participating in social interactions (tying the ribbon to his foot during the Christmas gift exchange, telling him he won’t get any food at the New Year’s feast if he doesn’t help cook, etc.). he just loves him and wants him to be included. honestly this one of the most adorable relationships in the entire goddamn series and I am tired of it being slept on. the people deserve more KamiBaku dammit.

IidaBaku - last but not least, a relationship between two people who I’m pretty sure have only actually interacted with each other a handful of times, and most of those times involved them shouting at each other! ah, yes. the stick in the mud and the delinquent. god’s natural enemies. except that in this case the “delinquent” is a star student who tutors other kids and goes to bed every night at 8:30, and the stick in the mud once hatched a legitimate plot to kill a man. what I am trying to say is that these two are actually WAY more alike than they would ever care to admit, and I’m kind of obsessed with it?? this is one of those ships where all it would take is one well-applied trope and the possibilities are endless. you could literally just pick one out of a hat. fake dating, roommates, only one bed, undercover as lovers, WHATEVER. and not only does this have the potential to be the most hilarious ship in the history of time, but it also has potential to be disarmingly, shockingly sweet, I shit you not. there are a couple of little moments in the light novels that I absolutely adore, where they’re each taking care of the other with the other having absolutely no idea. Iida makes about four attempts to tuck Bakugou in during the forest training camp arc because his covers have fallen off and he doesn’t want him to catch a chill, and Bakugou unknowingly returns the favor by preventing Iida from stumbling across the preparations for his own surprise birthday party before the others are finished getting ready. by shoving Iida into an elevator and ordering him to go back to his room with absolutely no explanation given lmao. anyway, but the point is the potential is definitely there for cuteness and chemistry and mutual respect while arguing nonstop like an old married couple.

so there you go! honestly Bakugou somehow has chemistry with just about everyone in his class, which is super impressive for someone with the personality of a rabid wolf spider. god bless him.

[vampiresuns]

Corazón Sufriente, Corazón Sangrante

3.5k words. The Crews of The Jagged Ruby and El Corazón Sangrante spend the night in Hinode. However, Captain Syd and the crew of Inuwashi cross the waters of the Strait before they even set sail the next morning, rattling the beings that inhabit it. Having no option but to sail as soon as they can, they are forced to face the storm waiting for them in the water.

The crew of The Jagged Ruby, El Corazón Sangrante, and Inuwashi belong to @apprenticealec​​. You can also check her map and lore about the Strait of Sirens here.​

This is the second and last instalment of Part VI of Secrets of An Ancient Moon Series. 

Want to read more of these series? You can find it’s masterpost here.

CW: Brief mentions of unhealthy family dynamics.

Rodrigo was something completely different from Jacqui. An entire different type of fish — an analogy he had hated. Not that him hating it was about to stop Jules from using it. 

They had known him for less than a day, yet they had already argued about at least five different topics. All of them unprompted. They had argued about slang, about whether their shared mother tongue was actually called Alzor or Nopali; Jules said both were acceptable, Rodrigo wasn’t so convinced. They had also begun bickering because Rodrigo, finding them again after docking in Hinode, tried to make for their ‘interrupted’ introduction earlier that morning, only to be met with Jules laughing through their nose and telling him he was shorter than Saoirse. They did not expect to touch a nerve, but they did.

Then it was some random thing neither of them knew how they ended up talking about, Jules ‘hoarding’ Jacqui, and finally because Jules had had the gall to make an assessment out of Rodrigo and be right about it.

“You too, huh?” Jacqui asked him. “What did they tell you?” 

Rodrigo grumbled something about ‘hearts’, and ‘choices’, and people like ‘us’. “Anyway, I told them there could be an ‘us’ if they wanted to, grabbed their face and the next thing I knew fucking Saoirse was standing right behind me, like what the fuck.” 

Jacqui laughed. Rodrigo looked at him as if he had just told him the worst of insults. 

“You know they do that because they think it’s funny, right?” 

“Shut up, Jacqui.”

Rodrigo’s Quartermaster looked over his Captain’s shoulder, snorting at the same time as Saoirse said: “Hi, Rodrigo,” making him jump from his chair.

None of those wouldn’t be the last of Julianus’ offences against Rodrigo that night. The crown jewel of them all would come when they asked him and Jacqui for how long they had been together. While Jacqui clammed up, Rodrigo answered ‘20 years’ like it was nothing. However, when Jacqui tried to tell him Julianus didn’t mean as Captain-and-Quartermaster, he laughed, and left. 

“So it’s not like—? Oh.” Saoirse laughed softly, and kissed their temple.

In hindsight Jules should’ve anticipated Rodrigo coming back to steal their drink, since they “weren’t going to finish it.” 

In any other circumstances, Jules would’ve rolled their eyes, yelled something smart back at whomever took their drink, and carried on. That drink, however, had pisco mixed with a soft drink. It was a popular mix in Altazor, but slightly harder to find in other places — mostly due to the lack of pisco— and, it was Rodrigo who had taken it. 

“Hey! That’s mine!”

Rodrigo began walking away faster.

This would be one of those moments which Julianus would never forget. The blur of faces as they chased Rodrigo in the tavern part of the Inn, Manolo’s and Manuela’s concerned faces. Walking over someone’s table after climbing on a chair without thinking too much about it. Or rather, without overthinking about it. There were no what-abouts, no ifs, no what-will-whoever-thinks. Just them, trying to calculate their odds as they tackled Rodrigo into the ground. He yelled something about his coat getting dirty, Jules told him he shouldn’t have stolen his drink. 

Neither of them were putting on a real fight, though at the same time they were. Rodrigo fought better, but Jules was more slippery and had, per Saoirse’s own confirmation and now for everyone to witness, an unexpectedly strong thigh-lock. 

Meredith was yelling insults at Rodrigo and cheering on Julianus, with either ‘you go, Sanlaurento’, or ‘that’s my legal bastard’. J. C. would not register it until hours later, and while they suspected it was solely because they were fighting Rodrigo and had tackled him to the ground, it still brought a smile to their face. 

Looking at them as they fought, Saoirse and Jacqui stood together. Jacqui refused to get involved, claiming this wouldn’t have happened if Rodrigo had not stolen their drink. 

“You know those fights between siblings which start to get too serious?” He asked Saoirse.

“No, not really.”

“Well, this is a little like those.” 

After a moment or two, he spoke again. “So, this is ‘your Julie’.”

Saoirse’s smile was the brightest Jacqui had ever seen in them. “Sometimes I think I will anticipate their thought process. Sometimes I do. Others…,” there it was again, the smile, “I have no idea.”

The fight ended when Saoirse got Jules another drink, and helped them get off from Rodrigo who was yelling at them not to get his face, while Jules yelled at him that he got theirs first. They were both perfectly alright, despite their dramatics, but in the morning Julianus’ forehead would develop a small bruise right where their hairline began, Rodrigo having accidentally elbowed them. It was, for once, a legitimate accidental blow. 

Later, Saoirse would say that Jules had a very thick head, as they held ice to their forehead just in case. Jules was sharing a bedroom with Theo, and while the ship’s medic would’ve been able to do just the same, Saoirse wanted to do it. They, on the other hand, had to sleep in the same room as Meredith, to keep the Queen safe. 

Theo had offered to change places with Saoirse, swearing ‘most ardently’ that he would never let anything happen to Meredith. Saoirse, bound by the code by their own choice, declined.

When the two of them were alone, Saoirse having left to their own bedroom, Theo gave Jules a sympathetic look.

“You look melancholic, my dear friend. Empty bed blues?”

“No, not really. I do know how it goes, and besides, it’s their job. You don’t see Saoirse complaining about my law books, do you?”

“So what is it? If you wish to talk about it,” he said as he sat on Jules’ bed, “I am happy to be your faithful confidant.”

“Thank you, Theodore. Do you promise not to think it’s stupid?”

Theodore crossed his heart, then put his open palm above it and raised his other hand. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Jules was silent for so long, gathering their thoughts, that the doctor thought they’d never speak. However, they did, turning to them with such vulnerability in their face that Theodore, poetic and candid as he was, almost gasped. 

“I’m not used to being in a place where I want to find out what happens tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after. It’s like my mind decided to have this moment, out of all possible moments to realise I am not going anywhere.”

“Anywhere how? Oh, Meredith wouldn’t turn you away!”

“No, not like that. Anywhere as in here, in this world. That this is my life and I get to live it, for many more years than I ever thought I’d get to live.”

Theodore hugged them. Jules didn’t expect the gesture tensing for a fraction of a second before fully leaning into it. Theo was hugging them with both his arms, but he was doing it around their side, not in front of them, which made returning the hug a little awkward. Jules still did their best. 

“I’m so very glad we are friends.”

Jules smiled. “So am I, Theo. You deserve good things.”

“So do you.”

“Just take the compliment.”

“Pot and kettle! You take the compliment!”

They bickered some more, like old friends who have known each other for their whole lives, until Theo sent them to bed on Doctor’s orders. 

They would both sleep happy, soundly. Julianus would dream of sweet nothings and their feet would stay warm all night with the weight of Marcius over them. Yet that wouldn’t last until the morning. Everyone slept in a little later than they did at Sea, only to be woken up with alarm from members of both crews announcing Inuwashi had crossed the waters of the Strait.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

They could’ve waited a couple days to pass, but the fear of not making it to Ethari on time was worse — Jules had no idea until then, but due to a couple of reasons beyond anyone’s control (namely the weather and some routes alterations) they were behind schedule and could not afford any more delays. It meant they’d head to risk going through the waters with its very, very angry sirens. 

This time, no crew song appeased them. The message was clear: anything or anyone they got their hands on would not see the surface again.

On the distant horizon, Julianus could see the outline of a ship. It looked tiny in the distance and by the way Meredith cursed in it’s direction, they assumed it must be Inuwashi. Meredith cursed again — it had begun to drizzle, and it looked like a storm was beginning to brew. 

Saoirse, for once, looked concerned. “Jacqui says Rodrigo exhausted his illusion magic, they’re too uncontrollable for him to properly cast anything on them.” 

To make matters worse, a ripple went through the water. With a violent halt, both of the ships stopped moving.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! If I could kill Syd, I fucking would!” Meredith yelled.

“I know,” was Saoirse’s serious reply. “But I don’t think that was Syd.”

“You’re seriously going to tell me that wasn’t Gharial or however the fuck they’re called?”

“No, it was, but Syd is not stupid enough to endanger you right before a Quinquennial Meeting without a loophole, and Gharial just likes getting Syd into trouble.”

“It doesn’t fucking change anything.”

It was chaos as everyone snapped into action to make the ships move again. The sooner they were all out of the Strait the better and by the turn of events it was going to be a long, tiring task. 

“Alright!” Meredith yelled, raising their voice so everyone listened to her. “Keep everyone from the railings and if you can move with a lifeline, do it. I want all of them secured! I will only say this once: if anyone falls, we will not be able to retrieve them so anyone with a range weapon — do whatever idiot that falls a favour if they do.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

What nothing told you about life or death experiences was how absolutely absurd they were. There were no big revelations, no reel of your life going before your eyes, no philosophical moments where the ulterior meaning of life was revealed to you. It was just you, and whomever else was with you in that moment, running around as survival instincts kicked in. As they did, the realisation that you might as well die came to you, and instead of thinking about everything you did not get to do, or everything you could’ve done differently, all you did was noticing really stupid details, about really stupid shit. 

Julianus didn’t need to wait to have another experience with death to know whomever said otherwise was fucking lying. 

Instead of thinking about anything that would’ve risen up to the dourness of the hour, they were thinking about their art teacher from Altazor, the one they had when they were in primary school and they had taken an art extracurricular. When they were around ten, they went through a phase where they only wanted to paint the sea. Their teacher had shown them a Neviv painter who painted ships and stormy seas, and Julianus had decided they only wanted to paint the sea from then on. 

The sky looked like the paints of that painter. Julianus couldn’t even remember the name of the painter.

They had stopped taking the extracurricular not long after that. Part of an ongoing issue they had associated with lack of confidence in their sense of self, and their struggle to keep habits. The former had to do with having been indirectly punished for their openness of self, which left them more vulnerable to other people’s opinions. A vulnerability they were never given proper tools to deal with. When they tried to find who they were in front of the world, too many factors had convinced them for years that who they were was inherently wrong. From mean peers to their own parents, or the expectations of their family, and no matter what image they projected, it all weighted them down. 

The other had to do with a long time undiagnosed hyperactivity and focus divergency. No one believed them about it until they took the matters in their own hands, because how could someone ‘as smart as them’ have it. It simply had to be laziness, or something other. They had been over this already, about how too many people had opinions on who Julianus Sanlaurento had to be, or was, without actually bothering to check who they actually were, or even given the chance. 

The other extracurricular that succumbed to all of that was magic. However, they had taken it up again in their last years of schooling before university, as they had in free hours they were left alone to their own devices. That halt in their studies had made them more knowledgeable in the history of it and the relationships different cultures had with it, than to the practice itself. It was one of the reasons why the Sea Palace had had no interest in them, besides the fact they thought (both Jules and the Scholars) they did not have any particularly differential ability in it. 

They never stopped practising it after that, even if they never mentioned to anyone, unless they were forced to. They had taken it up under a mentor again in Firent, where they took it as a university extracurricular with a magician who was adept to energy manipulation — electricity in particular. Jules had taken to it like fish to the water, even if, once again, they ended up using it for little. 

She always said plasma and electricity weren’t harder to manipulate than other types of matter. People tended to be more afraid to do it, because it required the magician to make themselves a receptor of that energy, and for a series of reasons, people did not seem comfortable with malleable matter that may or may not zap you. 

Somewhere to their right, Drew hissed. 

“Are you alright, darling?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, I just grabbed my knife and I got a static shock.”

Jules snapped out of their trace. “Swords work as conductors of electricity, right?” 

“What?”

“Like, you can catch electricity with a sword, can you not?”

Drew and Elizabeth looked at them with concern. Also, like perhaps, they had gone a little crazy. 

Theo, however, had their answers. “It’s metal, so in theory it would work. Though not all metals conduct the same way, but that’s the principle of a lightning rod… why do you ask?”

“If I do something that’s potentially really stupid, involves magic, and I technically know how to do but haven’t done it in years and never outside of the context of a classroom, do you promise to not let me fall into the water? I don’t actually want to die.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Julianus was either a genius, insane or terminally stupid. They were about to find out.

Storms had always been their favourite weather and they knew an electric storm had to be in the making. Sounds around them were too clear, humidity was annoyingly oppressive, there were no birds flying, Marcius was hiding under the covers of Saoirse’s bed (Jules double checked he was safe) and it smelled like a storm. 

Electric storms came with lightning. With the right magical knowledge, anyone could manipulate them. However, they needed to get to the Beak of the ship, and there was no way Saoirse would let them do that if it put them at the risk of falling into the water. El Corazón Sangrante, however, wasn’t that far away from the Ruby. It was a sensible jump, even by their poor eye-estimation of distance.

All they had to do was try. 

From the perspective of anyone else in the crew, this was what happened: Julianus used a rope from the rigging to jump from one ship to the other (a very bad experience, which they would not like to repeat). They told something to Jade, Rodrigo’s sailing master, and for some reason, Jade agreed to it. Perhaps, she was as desperate as everyone else to get out of the strait. Meredith, still on the Ruby yelled-asked who let Sanlaurento do such a thing. Saoirse looked at them with confusion as they ran with the rapier they had gotten for them during a raid in hand; said confusion turned into dread when they realised what part of the ship they were running towards. 

The panic they felt when they saw them climb past the forecastle and onto the very narrow surface to stand before the bowsprit began, threatened to dissolve the body they chose to use every day. They ran towards the bow of the Ruby, ready to jump into the water if they needed.

“Julie!” They yelled, trying to make them turn, but it was like they didn’t listen.

A thunder broke behind them as they lifted a leg over the railing. That’s when they saw it. With both arms extended, their sword on the left hand pointing towards the sky, a lightning strike hit Julianus. 

Jules condensed it in their free hand as it sizzled and crackled without harming their skin. Angling themselves, they threw it into the water, hitting one of the sirens straight on the chest.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Having to face the Siren songs that close to the water was, perhaps, one of the worst life experiences Jules had ever gone through. It was something about their rabid eyes and the promises they sang of.

They could see them, almost. They could see themselves in it. A model child, a partner, two children and a pet. A stable job. A good relationship with their mother. Esteem and respect from the social circle they had grown in at the expense of nothing. The sirens sang and they went to a different school, they had different tastes, they had more knowledge, a better capacity to concentrate, a different career, they were more athletic. They were immaculately perfect, always pleasing everyone and always knowing the right thing to say. Whomever that abomination the Sirens sang about was, it wasn’t Jules.

They could see why. They could see how they would twist their fear of never being enough, their fear of being utterly mediocre, against them. They could see how they took that away, and left a perfectly sanitised carcass that, in a lower point of their life, they would’ve given into. 

The wind played with their hair as they felt one thing, and one thing alone: rage. 

Their frown was set as they began feeling static build around them and with steady breaths they stood in posture. They lifted their sword as their angry, teary eyes met with the fishy ones of the sirens in the water. It wasn’t about being stronger than them or more powerful than them. Neither was the case: They were just Jules. 

Just Jules. Poetic, hopeful, intelligent, strong-willed, imperfect, full of love and terrified to give it, yet determined to plant the garden of their life no matter how many times it was destroyed. Jules who was full of grief, and full of happiness, and Jules who knew they would never have the life that was promised to them, because that life required of them something they would never be able to be without sacrificing who they truly were. 

It was okay. It was okay not to have that life and not to be that person. Whoever they were now was better anyway. 

Lightning struck their sword. They knew what to do. 

When the Sirens went quiet, numbed by the electric sock, they slid their back against the wood of the ship. Hanging on some rope and their sword for dear life they sat down with their head between their legs. 

Saoirse found them moments later, pulling them up and carrying them back to Meredith’s ship in their arms. 

“I can walk you know, I’m just a little dizzy.”

Saoirse didn’t put them down. “Were you going to tell me you could manipulate lightning, or was I supposed to find out this way?”

“I didn’t think it was relevant to mention. Did it work?”

They let out a noise of annoyance. “Yes, yes it worked. But if you want to do that again, it’d be better you practised. You could’ve fallen into the sea, you could’ve—”

“But I didn’t. I’m here, Saoirse.”

They shot them a look, but the relief that it worked, and the wonder that their Julie could do such a thing won this time. They kissed the crown of their head. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“I mean it. Let’s get you some water and something to eat.”

“I’m sorry I scared you, I really am.”

Saoirse sighed. “You’re forgiven. You did great.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Beyond the Strait of Seals, Captain Syd of the Inuwashi looked at the lightning strike back in the waters of the Strait. Hideko stood besides them. 

“I didn’t know Saoirse could do that.”

Heron spoke behind her. “Are we sure that’s Saoirse?”

“Well, colour me surprised Cabin Boy, I don’t remember asking your opinion.”

[lvanter]

note: :(( hi :(( i accidentally deleted the first one so :(( repost :(( also like disclaimer i’m not assuming felix’s sexuality schsjs this is pure fiction :] okay hope u enjoy it :] bc i really like it

warnings: coming out, kissing,

wc: 2.9k

years in between. fl

felix is 10 when he first meet you.

chris, felix’s older brother, came home from school later than expected.

another thing that wasn’t expected was you walking into the house with him, holding your backpack tightly. felix was sat at the dinner table with his dad doing some homework.

“chris? you’re home late,” his dad looked up from the work laying on the table. “who’s this?”

chris proudly introduced you as the new kid in his class and his new best friend.

felix’s eyes widened when he looked at you. you had a yellow raincoat on and a pair of worn out black sneakers, and you were slight wet from the rain. chris, on the other hand, was drenched.

“i fell into a puddle,“ chris admitted, his cheeks growing hot. nobody asked, but he knew they were going to.

his father nodded, a smile finding its way onto his lips, “you two should get dry. i’ll get some towels,“

as their father left to get towels, chris gestured for you to take your shoes and jacket off, while he did the same. he walked over to felix and ruffled his hair, “hey, lix,”

“hi,” felix smiled happily at his older brother.

“(name), this is my little brother felix,” chris introduced, his hand on felix’s shoulder

“hi, felix,“

you shot him a smile. a smile that would be engraved into his mind for a very long time.

felix is 12 when he comes to the conclusion that he’s bisexual.

he comes to the conclusion when he imagines kissing lee minho, his neighbor, for the nth time, after having a yet another daydream about how lovely it would be to date yoo jeongyeon, his math tutor.

tears were streaming down his face that night. he was supposed to like girls! and girls only! this could not be happening. he tried to stay quiet as he cried, to no avail. within a few minutes chris was hugging him tightly and running his hand up and down felix’s back to soothe and comfort him.

felix remembers stuttering and stammering what was wrong through the tears running down his face at a rapid speed. he remembers chan pulling him closer and telling him that it was okay and that he was still felix.

“but…” felix sniffled, “but aren’t i supposed to only like girls?”

chris gave him a resecuring and yet sad smile, “you can like whoever you want, lix,”

“really?”

“yeah!” chris gave him another smile, this time happier, “whoever you want! as long as they’re a nice person,“ he teased, pointing a finger at his younger brother.

(name) is a nice person, was the first thought that came to mind, but felix didn’t dare say it out loud, in fear of what chris would say.

chris ended up sleeping in felix’ bed, holding him tight.

the next day felix told his best friends, kim seungmin and han jisung. the pessimistic part of felix was sure they were gonna hate him and never talk to him again. but the response he got was far from that; they ended up cuddling on the couch in seungmin’s living room. seungmin busy wiping felix’ tears away and calming him down, while jisung made a fort and found all their favorite movies.

telling his parents was the hardest and chris knew that, so he made sure he was holding felix’s hand as tightly as he could, to give the younger one more comfort. chris was positive their parents would accept their youngest child’s sexuality.

felix, however, was not. he had made the mistake of telling chris he was fine, and therefore had to sleep alone the night before, leaving room to overthink.

the room got uncomfortably hot for felix, as soon as their parents sat down at the dining table, like he had asked them to.

“mom, dad,” felix began, tightening his grip on chris’ hand. “i’m...” he gulped, “i’m...”

felix closed his eyes forcefully. the words ‘i can’t’ repeated in his head, ‘they’re gonna hate me’

“i’m……..” the words kept getting stuck in throat.

“you’re what, sweetheart?” his mom asked, in the tone she usually had when she spoke to her youngest child.

“i’m bi,” he whispered so lowly only chris heard him.

“what?” it was their dads turn to speak, “felix, you know how we feel about mumbling,”

chris leaned closer to felix so he could whisper into his ear, “do you want me to say it?”

felix nodded without saying anything.

chris took a deep breath before speaking,“felix is bisexual,”

the silence that fell over the room made felix want to hide away and cry. he closed his eyes, not wanting to see his parents disgusted faces (and to stop the tears, that were threatening to fall). before he could stop himself the tears began to fall. the words ‘they hate me’ repeated themselves over and over again in his head.

he felt someone wipe his tears away. at first he thought i was chris, but the hands felt rougher. dad?

felix opened his his eyes, and through the tears he could make out his dads kind face.

“it’s okay, felix,” his dad rubbed his back to comfort him (the same way chris had done it when he first found out).

“you…you don’t hate me?” felix managed to get out, tears still falling.

“oh, lixie,” his mom stood up and walked over to the boys, “we could never hate you, okay.” she said, taking her sons hands.

that night felix and chris slept on the couches in the living room (their parent went to sleep in their bed, and didn’t want to wake their sons up), after a long evening of watching felix’ favorite movies and eating take out.

“chris?” felix whispered, twenty minutes after midnight.

“hmm?” chris on hummed in response. he was very close to falling asleep.

“thank you,”

“it’s nothing, lixie, i’ve got you,”

felix cuddle closer into his big brother, and fell asleep quickly. he couldn’t remember the last time he slept that well.

felix is 14 when he’s sure he’s in love with you.

felix didn’t know much about love.

he had never been in love. sure, he’s had crushes (like the ones he had on yoo jeongyeon and lee minho), but they never lasted longer than a few months. the one he’s had on you, however, has lasted for 4 years…but he wasn’t sure if it was love or if he just found you cool and good looking.

he became sure that day a carnival was in town, and his parents had taken him and chris. after trying a bunch of rides and eating very overpriced and unhealthy foods, chris had spotted you and waved you over.

you were with your dads family, felix learned. you had ruffled his hair and given chris the usual hug.

“hi, chrissy,“ you said, hugging your best friend, before ruffling felix’ hair, “hi, lix,“

lix… you only called him lix, never felix, or fefe like jisung did when he wanted to tease him. it made his heart beat faster than it should, and usually left him kinda dizzy.

“h-hi, (name),“ he stuttered, silently cursing at himself afterwards. why did he have to stutter? why couldn’t he talk normally around you?

your dad’s family and their parents had begun to talk, leaving you, chris and felix to go on rides by yourselves. you ended up in a ‘coffee cup ride’, where you sit in a coffee cup and spin around.

felix gulped slightly as he sat down in front you. you gave him a smile, the one that always made his heart pound.

“you nervous?” you asked him.

“on-only a little,”

why did i have to stutter? felix groaned inwardly at himself.

“it’s okay, lix, i am too,”

felix gave you a shy smile and the ride started. felix felt the wind run through his hair, it felt nice. he could barely open his eyes, as the ride continued. he was well aware that he was gonna get dizzier because he closed his eyes, so he forced them open.

the first thing he saw was you. your smile was wide and your eyes curled up, as you held on tight on the table in the middle. you looked so happy and free. felix was sure everything seemed to slow down, as you laughed happily.

the sight was the most beautiful felix had ever seen.

his hands began began to move closer to grab yours unconsciously. before he could realize it he had grabbed it and you had given it a squeeze in return, without looking at him.felix felt himself begin to sweat a little at your touch.

you had held his hand before, but that was when he was a kid and still needed to hold somebody’s hand when he crossed the street.

now he was a grown up….okay, no, he wasn’t, but like every 14 year-old he liked to think he was.

is this what love feels like? he asked himself, as he kept watching you laugh and smile as the ride kept going. his heart was pounding, his cheeks was red and hot, and his stomach was filled with butterflies.

felix didn’t know much about love, but from what he’s read and seen in movies, this is what it feels like.

felix is 16 when he gets his heart broken for the first time.

felix wasn’t hungry, but chris was. and felix being the younger one of the two had been forced to go get the food.

chris had given felix the address to a small chinese restaurant, around 15 minutes away from their home.

felix actually didn’t mind getting the food. he liked going for walks, they cleared his head. his head that was filled with thoughts about you (and maybe the homework he had gotten).

the door to the restaurant dinged quietly as it opened. felix stood and scanned the restaurant for a moment. a family of five sitting, two girls, an old couple, a couple of friends, nothing too exciting. the foods scent got to felix, making his stomach grumble. okay, maybe he was hungry after all.

he went up to the counter, got the food and paid. he was happily on his was out when a guy—a couple of years older than him, if felix were to guess—walked through the door, slightly bumping into felix on the way.

“oh, sorry,” the guy gave felix an apologetic smile, to which felix just gave him a nod and a, “it’s fine,”

felix walked out the door, when his phone vibrated. he pulled it out of his back pocket as he stood outside the restaurant.

from chris: can u get some soda too uwu

felix made a grimace at his brothers use of uwu.

to chris: only if u promise me that ure never gonna say uwu again

from chris: fine :(

from chris: btw do u see (name)??? they should be on a date there right now w their boyfie

felix’s heart sank as he read the text. a date? you were on a date? felix quickly looked into the restaurant, through the big windows. his eyes found you easily. he found you just in time to see you pull the same guy that bumped into felix in for a kiss; the kind of kiss felix wished he could give you.

felix felt sick. while he didn’t have any real hope you liked him, he still wished you did. he tried to tear his eyes away from you, to no avail. you saw him and waved, but the only thing he wanted to do was cry. he waved back unenthusiastically, and gripped the bag with the food tighter. he ran home. felix hated running.

when he got home he threw the bag on the couch beside chris, and went to his room, ignoring chris asking how much he owed.

felix threw himself onto his bed. he had no expectations and was still let down. of course you didn’t like him, he was just your best friends’ younger brother. he tried to distract himself—both from you and his grumbling stomach. it didn’t work all to well.

felix went the bed early that day, hungry and heartbroken.

felix is 18 when he has his first kiss.

it was with hwang hyunjin, his best friend (seungmin left to study in america and jisung malaysia).

felix didn’t feel embarrassed over the fact that he didn’t have it before. if he was being completely honest, he thought it was overrated (and kinda gross).

hyunjin had kissed people before, but it was something that only lasted 5 seconds. he approached felix nervously, asking if said boy could help him get better at kissing only for felix to tell him that he hadn’t even had his first kiss yet.

this shocked hyunjin probably more than it should. felix was very popular with both girls and boys, and had been on plenty of dates throughout his life, so the fact that he have never kissed somebody came as a shock.

“really?”

“yeah,” felix shrugged, laying down on hyunjins bed. he wasn’t sure why hyunjin looked so shocked.

“really?” hyunjins mouth opened and closed resembling a fish.

“yes, hyunjin,” felix repeated, “i’ve never kissed someone before,”

hyunjin thought for a bit before talking again, “can i kiss you?”

felix choked on his spit, “what?” he coughed, as hyunjin hit him on his back.

“can i kiss you? like can i be your first kiss?”

“w-why?”

hyunjins eyebrows furrowed, “what do you mean why? i wanna get better at kissing and i’m sure you wanna know what it’s like to kiss,”

“but..but we’re best friends?” felix sputtered.

“yes, meaning we trust each other,” the older boy rolled his eyes, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to obviously,”

“no, we can do it,”

“are you sure, lix?”

“yes, hyunjin, we can kiss,” felix rolled his eyes, but his heart was full of love. he knew hyunjin wanted to be completely sure he wasn’t doing anything felix didn’t want to do.

“okay then,” hyunjin nodded, slowly connecting their lips.

it was a short kiss…actually it was more of a peck. just a quick touch of their lips.

“was that okay?” hyunjin asked nervously, he really didn’t want felix to feel uncomfortable.

felix nodded. he didn’t feel anything, just hyunjin’s lips on his.

“wanna go again?” hyunjin asked.

felix shrugged, “sure,”

this time, the kiss was different. it was deeper, and felix is pretty sure some tongue was involved.

kissing is overrated, felix thought. he was following hyunjin, letting the slightly older boy take control. this time, felix pulled away first.

“how was that?” hyunjin ran a hand through his hair, messing it up.

felix shrugged again.

“don’t shrug,” hyunjin whined, making felix chuckled at his friend. “was it nice? was it too much? was it not enough? was it—“

felix cut hyunjin off, “it was fine, overrated, but fine,”

hyunjin giggled, “overrated?”

“yeah, i mean it’s nice, but i don’t get all the rage,”

“thanks, lix,” hyunjin giggled again, leaning in for a hug.

felix happily responded to the hug, “it’s nothing, jinnie,”

felix is 20 when he learns that kissing is nice, but only if it’s with you.

kissing you was something felix had always wanted to try, and after 10 years—it felt like 50—he got the chance.

you weren’t his first kiss, nor were you his second (he kissed park siyeon for a dare during a party), but you were the most memorable one.

he hesitantly pulled away, the feeling of your lips on his lingering. he let out a sigh of content, “that was…”

“that was something,” you giggled.

your giggle made felix feel warm inside, the same kind of warmth you’ve always given him. “i like you,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

“i know,”

felix’s eyes widened, “you know?”

“yeah, you’re not very good at keeping secrets,” you shrugged with your usual smile.

“but…but that means…that chris knows as well?”

“yes, he knows,”

felix could feel his face get hot. not only did you know about his crush on you, but chris did as well, “i’m...i’m sorry,” he faced the floor ashamed.

“lix, you have nothing to apologize for,”

he put his hands over his face “i made you feel uncomfortable,” his whine was muffled by his hands.

you furrowed your brows, “who told you that?”

“what?”

“who told you that your crush on me made me uncomfortable?”

felix’ held shut up, “n-no one, i just thought...”

“felix,” you sighed, grabbing his head and titling it so he face facing you, “it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. at all!”

“it..it doesn’t?”

“no!” you shook your head, “in fact….it makes me very happy,”

the look on felix’ face me you laugh; he looked, lost and hopeful, “w-what?”

“i like you too, lix,” you giggled, hands still on his cheeks.

“what?!”

“i like you,” you said, squeezing his cheeks with every word.

“you do?” felix was over the moon, he felt like he could do anything and everything. “please don’t play with me.”

“i promise you, i’m not,”

the smile that broke out on his face was heartwarming. his eyes curled up and nose scrunched. he leaned in to kissed you, trying to contain his smile.

kissing you was better than he could’ve ever imagined. he could feel you smile into the kiss, and it made his heart pound faster than it ever had.

in felix’s eyes kissing is overrated, but not if it’s with you.

[hajimes-erect-ahoge]

Postmortem- Chapter 13

Kokichi overthinks his feelings for Shuichi and has a conversation with Rantaro.

ao3

This was bad.

No, it was more than bad, it was terrible, absolutely horrendous.

Kokichi Ouma had feelings for someone.

In the past, it was quite easy for him to relegate these feelings to the back of his brain and pretend they did not exist. In the rare moment that they did rise to the surface of his consciousness he would face them with blunt denial, acting like this silly “crush” of his was nothing but careless infatuation that would die down soon enough.

But now his feelings were staring him in the eye, baring their ugly fangs which threatened to sink into his flesh, rendering him a slave to his emotions.

If his trust issues during the killing game were anything to go by, it was evident that Ouma did not like being out of control of things. He would plan his actions very carefully in order to elicit very specific reactions from the other members of the group, who would play into his hand like puppets. Every action he took was carefully constructed and overthought, so there was no room for uncertainty.

But Ouma’s feelings right now were the epitome of uncertainty.

Love, if he even dared to call it that, was a fickle thing, whimsically swaying its victims to and fro, doing as it so desires. Ouma could take whatever actions he wanted, but he would be pathetically unable to escape the clutches of this “monster” that people called love. He was at its mercy, submitting to his heart’s desires.

Isolating himself did no good- it just made him think of Saihara even more, his absence burning a hole in his heart. But spending too much time with him was dangerous, the warm feeling in his chest blooming, growing until it was unbearable. Any sort of fine medium he tried to find between these two extremes did little to quell his emotions, rather, it made them flourish.

The fact that Ouma had feelings for Saihara was nothing new; Despite how much he denied it in the past, he at least acknowledged the tiniest sliver of a possibility that he had feelings for the other boy. But as time passed and he grew closer to Saihara, his feelings grew stronger as well. They began to dominate his mind, permeating his every thought:

When he went to the dining hall, he hoped that Saihara would be there, kindly waving him over to come sit with him.

When he bickered with Momota, he would purposefully try to gain Saihara’s attention.

And when he went to sleep at night, he wondered if Saihara was thinking of him too.

During the killing game, it has never been this bad. Maybe that was because the crushing weight of trying to end the killing game by himself was resting on his shoulders, taking over his every thought and leaving no room for such idle distractions. Maybe not. Who knows.

But now that the imminent threat of death was no longer looming over his head, he was supposed to be able to think more clearly now. Instead, stupid Saihara just had to occupy his thoughts and be so nice to him even after everything he did during the killing game.

Saihara’s sweet smile that he had reserved only for those close to him, the way he fiddled with his fingers when he was nervous, and the way that Ouma felt his knees go weak every time Saihara looked at him with those unnecessarily long eyelashes- it all made him sick.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

Nothing except resign himself to his fate of suffering from an unrequited love, because there was absolutely no way that Saihara returned his feelings. Not when there were so many better alternatives available to him.

First of all, there was Akamatsu, the goody-two-shoes bundle of sunshine that tried to unite everyone together against the mastermind- a foolish move, really. She was the first to be by Saihara’s side during the killing game, and left a lasting impression on him after she died. Everything suddenly became “Akamatsu this” and “Akamatsu that” as Saihara struggled to find himself now that he was left alone.

She had been the perfect sacrifice for Saihara’s character development, her own character being reduced to a martyr that tried to end the killing game but failed miserably so early on. He had idolized her, to an unhealthy extent, almost, and did everything he could to make her proud. Of course she would be his first choice over anyone else and, given the opportunity, he would probably abandon Ouma in order to be by her side.

There was also Momota, who had been Saihara’s companion for the remaining duration of the killing game. Momota had essentially replaced Akamatsu, as the two were nearly one in the same: Both were overly optimistic, natural-born leaders with a sense of confidence that they could only hope would rub off on Saihara. Also, they both hogged most of his attention, leaving so little for Ouma to have to himself.

Momota had been, and still was, Saihara’s best friend, and Ouma couldn’t help but insult him out of jealousy, wishing that it had been him instead. But he was a good-for-nothing liar, so it was no wonder why Saihara had chosen Momota over him.

In short, there was essentially no way that Saihara would return Ouma’s feelings, not when he had so many better options available. The thought made Ouma’s heart sting, but as long as Saihara was happy he couldn’t really complain.

The more pressing issue was how Ouma would suppress these feelings and prevent them from growing. At this rate, he would end up head over heels in love with Saihara, and he absolutely could not let that happen. And if it did happen, he would have to keep it secret.

Eventually, Ouma would be rooming with Saihara, being in his immediate vicinity nearly 24/7. It was too late to back out now, so avoiding the other boy was clearly not an option. He would have to regain the self-control he had lost during the past few weeks, not allowing himself to grow too close to Saihara. It would be hard, but for both of their sakes he would have to do it.

He had to.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ouma groggily woke up, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Blinking the remains of sleep out of his eyes, he immediately recognized that he was not in his room. Suddenly more alert, he quickly scanned his surroundings, registering to himself that he was in the recreation room.

“Oh, you’re finally up.” Ouma's eyes darted around before landing on the figure to his right, who he recognized as Amami.

“Huh?” he did a double take before sitting up, instinctively backing away into his corner of the couch.

“Relax, I haven’t been here too long. Just watching some TV to try and get my mind off of things is all.” Amami replied, noticing Ouma’s confusion. “You were here when I got here so I just let you sleep.”

Ouma looked down, noticing that he was covered with a green fuzzy blanket. He assumed Amami draped it over him, because he didn’t remember falling asleep with a blanket, whenever that was.

“What time is it?” Ouma asked, still a bit dazed.

“It’s 9:00 in the morning.” Amami glanced at the clock under the TV, then back at Ouma. “Did you sleep here all night?”

“I think so, I…” Ouma’s brows furrowed as he slowly recollected the events of the night prior.

Him and Saihara had been hanging out in the recreation room late at night, as both of them tended to be night owls. After Saihara had excused himself to go to bed, Ouma sat down on the couch to watch TV, not really feeling that tired yet. But apparently he was more tired than he thought, because he passed out on the couch.

“I was here with Saihara last night, and went to watch some TV after he went to bed, so…” Ouma looked up, noticing that Amami was looking at him with a slight smirk. Ouma frowned. “...What?”

“You and Saihara-kun have been spending quite a lot of time together lately, haven’t you?” Amami asked a bit smugly.

Ouma flushed, feeling his face begin to heat up even at the mere mention of Saihara’s name. He knew where this conversation was going and he wanted nothing to do with it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Ouma huffed, throwing the blanket off of himself dramatically and going to stand up, only to be stopped by Amami.

“No need to get all defensive… It was an innocent question, right? Not like you two are dating or anything… Unless?” Amami teased ever so lightly.

Ouma reluctantly sat back down, sighing and crossing his arms indignantly.

“No! We’re not dating!” he pouted.

“Oh, okay then.” Amami mindlessly tapped his chin with his finger, “You two do spend a lot of time together though.”

Amami paused, studying Ouma’s reaction at his next words.

“You totally have a crush on him though.” he said calmly, while Ouma was anything but.

He whipped his head around to make sure that no one could possibly be listening before responding.

“I do not!” Ouma protested.

It wasn’t like him to get so flustered, but he knew that his trademark lies tended to work less well on Amami. All he could think of in defense was blunt denial, hoping that the other boy would drop the subject.

“Calm down, okay?” Amami put his hands up in defeat, trying to calm the other boy down. “I won’t tell anyone. Pinke promise.” He extended his pinkie finger towards Ouma, who looked the other way.

“Fine! But I’m not making a stupid pinkie promise with you. I’m not five!” Ouma stuck his nose up, turning his head.

“Okay, have it your way.” Amami stood up, making a show of looking around the recreation room. “Saihara-kun should be in his room right now, so if I just…”

Ouma’s eyes widened, and before he knew it he was frantically jumping in front of Amami in order to stop him from telling Saihara.

“Wait, fine! I’ll do it!” Ouma reluctantly held out his pinkie finger, to which Amami smiled triumphantly and interlocked his finger with Ouma’s.

“There. Your secret is safe with me!” Amami released his finger, allowing his arms to drop back to his sides.

“Sooooo…” Now it was Ouma’s turn to smirk, his typical persona now back in full force. “Does my beloved Amami-chan have a crush on anyone? Nishishi…”

Amami flushed just the tiniest bit, before the door to the recreation room opened. He turned to see who entered the room, then turned back to Ouma, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Good morning!” Akamatsu beamed, making her presence known in the room.

“Ah, Ouma-kun.” Amami gestured towards Akamatsu, lopping his arm around her waist. “This is my girlfriend, Kaede.”

Akamatsu blushed upon hearing her first name come from Amami’s mouth, as she seemingly never got used to hearing it.

“Still haven’t gotten used to that, eh?” Amami teased, causing Akamatsu’s blush to deepen.

Ouma tuned out the rest of their conversation, processing the information he had just received.

Amami and Akamatsu were together?

That would explain a lot. Ouma had always noticed the two of them spending time together, but he just figured it was because they were the first two out of the simulation and had grown closer to each other. He never knew that they were dating.

But even if Akamatsu was with Amami, that didn’t change the fact that Ouma simply wasn’t appealing enough to Saihara. Not to mention Momota still being in the way.

Of course, a tiny part of his brain was hoping that he was wrong and that Saihara was interested in him, but he did his best to silence this part of himself in order to avoid becoming too optimistic. Can’t let yourself get your hopes up only for them to be dashed, he supposed.

He took one glance at the happy couple, disgusted at how in love they seemed. Once the couple seemed adequately occupied with one another, Ouma slipped out of the recreation room, returning to his own room, where he would spend the rest of the day sulking about how his feelings were unrequited.

At least, the feelings that he thought were unrequited.

[bambisfuneral]

Warnings: Mentions of suicide

Ｅｎｔｅｒ ｐａｓｓｗｏｒｄ： ＊＊＊＊＊

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Ｗｅｌｃｏｍｅ Ｇｕｅｓｔ Ｕｓｅｒ

——————————————————————————

Sunlight soon covered your half sleeping form, it made you throw your arm over your face to shield you eyes from the light. After what felt like ten minutes which was only ten seconds, you slowly sat up and stared at the bulletin board that hung above your desk. Instead of there being only two pictures, there were now four. The first one was a candid picture of you writing in her notebook, the second one was of Tendou with a wide smile holding up a peace sign and you in the background pouting at him.

“So you know how I said I used to be in your same position? I used to be a patient too, and in this psych ward. I just kinda..... I didn’t have anybody else admit me here I signed myself up, but with the way people treated me and how they talked to me, it sorta felt like they were the ones that made me sign up. It was like everything I did and said was wrong. Y’know I played volleyball when I was in school? That was where my heart was at, but people took it so serious. Like what’s the point in playing if you can’t have fun doing it?” I listened intently to everything he said nodding in agreement, it did suck being treated like you were beneath any and everybody so I knew how Tendou felt.

“That was my paradise, but my last year of high school, my team lost nationals and after that, volleyball for me was no more. Actually, all those guys you seen in the staff room? We were all on the same team, he wasn’t here but this guy Ushijima, I think he was my first true friend. He was never scared of me! To him, I was just another guy. Can you believe that? I was actually normal to somebody for once, I was never a monster. But I didn’t know that growing up, I was so used to people calling me a monster that I eventually became one........”

Tendou had stopped talking and I looked up from the food he gave me to look at him, he was looking up at the stars and he had a longing look on his face. Eventually a small smile replaced that, “I was lucky though, I healed eventually. Not everybody gets the chance to do that, so I wanted to do better and be better. So I went to college to be certified to be a doctor here, it feels nice being able to connect with people in this field. And then it feels even better knowing you played a part in making other people feel like they’re something, even if it’s just for a second”. He had looked over at me and his smile grew, “oh by the way, that’s Semi’s left overs so you might wanna thank him for that the next time you see him”.

The memory swallowed your mind and it was like you was glued to her bed as your eyes stuck to the picture of the red-haired doctor, he was an odd one. But he kept you company and was definitely a lot more accommodating than most doctors. Maybe you should just relax today. You rolled your eyes crossing your arms stubbornly. I’m being serious Y/N, you beat yourself up a lot for things that aren’t your fault. You don’t want Satori to come back tomorrow figuring out that you’re putting yourself in an unfixable predicament. “Kenma it’s fine! I told you that I got it under control, I’ve been feeling okay” Yeah Tendou’s right, you are full of shit. You watched Kenma hop up on your desk swinging his legs, “Oh I didn’t realize I was here to get tag teamed by you two” and you’re right, you’re not. You’re here to get better, but you can’t do that if you’re making yourself feel like crap all the time. I’m telling you, being around Satori’s gonna be a good change for you. You bit your lip and changed into a fresh set of clothes tossing your dirty ones in a corner.

“Hey doll, I know you’re not gonna like this very much, but I’m not gonna be here tomorrow. I got the day off and I got things I need to do, but I’ll drop you off some lunch and dinner so you don’t gotta eat the crap that they serve in the cafeteria. So.... what do you like?”

“So what am I supposed to do when he’s gone?” You muttered to yourself frowning. Ummm maybe socialize? Go eat breakfast? Maybe go talk to one of Satori’s co-workers? Kenma was talking to you like you were slow and it frustrated you but knowing he was just looking out for you, you decided to let it go. “Okay well I guess we can find that one guy I’ll Dr. Tendou was talking to in the staff room last night, it’d be easier if I could just ask around but I don’t know his-” Dr. Semi Eita, you’re welcome.

“Okay so it’s your turn to share now, and IIIII knooow you want to ask me stuff. I can see it on your face” Tendou’s eyes to match his sly smirk and he poked my cheek repeatedly before I slapped his hand away, “I mean.... you said you weren’t mad but I’ve never seen you lash out like that and it didn’t happen until after you and that guy talked”. I watched as his smirk dropped and his eyes darkened, “Doll you’ve never seen me lash out, not even in the least. So listen to me when I say I wasn’t mad. Now what else’s on your mind?” My lips pursed to the side as I looked away from him and clenched my fists together on my lap, his hands covered mine and he slowly opened my fists. I could tell by his gaze that he was still waiting for me to answer his question.

You walked up to the marbled counter with a glass wall surrounded it, behind the glass was an older bigger woman with brown hair which was starting to grey. Her fingers cracked against the keyboards for what seemed like a good five minutes before she stopped and looked up at you coldly. The woman was looking at her over her glass before pushing the frames to the bridge of her nose, “can I help you?”. You looked over at Kenma nervously and he was leaning against the wall with a thumbs up, you just huffed and turned back to the lady behind the counter. “Yes um.....” Y/N...... I swear, you spent eight minutes in your room just trying to figure out what you had to say and you spent an extra ten minutes reciting what you were planning on saying. Stop overthinking it and get it over with. This made her eyes widen and fists clench tightly, “I was wondering if I could see Dr. Semi? I’m assigned to Dr. Tendou but he’s not here today and he said if I needed to talk to somebody then to ask one of his doctor friends”

There was a moment of silence with the lady staring at her with amusement dancing in her eyes. A few seconds passed by before she pressed one of the buttons on a metal board off to the side, “Dr. Semi? Yes you have a patient here to talk to you, so if you would just come around to the front to come get her that’d be great. She said she’s one of Dr. Tendou’s patients”

“I was wondering if tonight could be our first official solo therapy? And maybe whenever we have them, we can have them up here?” I asked meekly only to be met with silence and then a thundering laugh, “That’s all? Yeah I doubt that was the only thing that’s been going through your brain these passed thirty minutes”. My lips curled downward while I shook my head, “Obviously not but I can’t just sit here and dump all my thoughts on you all at once!” A small smile was given to me which seem like a sign of appreciation, “Okay well we can start with that solo therapy then, how’s every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday at eight sound?”

The man from last night came around the wall next to the counter and gave you a warm smile. “Dr. Semi?” He just nodded and reached his hand out for you to grab, “You can just call me Semi, it’s fine. Let’s go into my office” you followed behind him and you looked back to see Kenma grinning to himself. He gave you a reassuring smile before turning to leave, you wanted to call out after him but you felt eyes boring into the side of your head. When you turned back to face Tendou’s co-worker, he was looking at you with a patient look but sort of threw his head motioning to go walk inside his office, so into his office you went. As soon as you walked in he patted the other end of the sleek burgundy couch he was sitting on, “so, is everything okay? Tendou told you he was off today right?”

You just nodded your head making yourself comfortable on the cold material you were sitting on, “Yeah I just wanted to know if he’s gonna be back tomorrow, and I was kinda wondering if I could have a solo therapy session with you? And maybe you could record it so you can show it to Dr. Tendou?” Semi smiled softly at you nodding. “Yeah, of course! I’m assuming that things are going smoothly with you and him because of what you just asked of me? And thank you for feeling comfortable enough to talk with me” This made you mirror the smile on his face as you dropped your hands in your lap, “Yeah! I was pretty indifferent at first, but Kenma convinced me that this would be good for me. And yeah, I figured that if Satori knew you in high school and you were still friends that you couldn’t be all that bad. Especially with how he is....... but I have a question”

Demi’s eyebrows quirked up at the use of Tendou’s first name, he barely allows anybody to use his first name so it took him by surprise, his predicament must’ve been more serious than he let on. He stayed quiet but gestured for you to continue with your question, “Last night when you and him were talking, why did he ended up so...... not mad but....” you didn’t even know what to say to described how he was and how it felt being near him during that ride up to the roof but it seemed like Semi understood what you meant because he chuckled knowingly.

“Yeah see, it’s not really my place to tell you this, but I’m sure Tendou’s already told you about him being a passed patient here. He gets a certain attachment to people easily and he used to be very co-dependent to the individuals he was attached to, it was very unhealthy what he was going through. He’s actually still bettering himself about it. So he was just telling me some things and I was trying to understand the situation and tell him that things aren’t always what they seem, then he just..... sort of became frustrated. It’s hard to explain but I hope you understand, maybe tomorrow you can talk to him about it. Now about that session, let’s begin?” You nodded and on cue he hit the recording button on his voice recorder, “So Miss Y/N, why are you here?”

“So doll, are you gonna tell me why you’re here? Did you sign yourself up orrr....” Tendou didn’t finish the last part to his sentence but I understood where he was going with it, “um..... okay so I was actually signed up by my parents, back in my first year of high school. The doctors at the ward I was assigned to said nothing was wrong with me, but then my parents told them about my habits, how I acted, what I did, all that fun stuff, and so the doctors deemed me to have a type two bipolar disorder, schizophrenic, aaaand a compulsive liar”. I seen Tendou grinned to myself and my brow raised in confusion, “Yeah I seen the compulsive liar part in your files and I started questioning that, cause you haven’t been showing any signs of being a liar”

I huffed and rolled my eyes in irritation, “it’s because I’m not! My parents were so hellbent on trying to convince them that I was suicidal, but I’m not and I never was! I just know my life’s gonna be cut short eventually. But it’s life, it happens to everybody eventually so I was never phased by it and they just deemed it as me being suicidal...... okay so I lied, I was suicidal but that wasn’t until after they prescribed me Zoloft because of my bipolar disorder. After they started making me take Zoloft I was in a very dark place. I wouldn’t take showers for days, I never wanted to get up, I woke up everyday not seeing the purpose in life so I never wanted to do anything....... I was at the lowest of the low and I didn’t know what to do.”

I looked over at Tendou trying to read his face but he just smiled at me almost innocently which gave me the confidence to keep talking, “okay so this went on until I graduated high school. They had me taking online courses which didn’t go too well. But guess what? It turns out that the doctors at that specific ward were giving all the patients that were showing even a minor sign of being upset Zoloft because they knew that the patient would eventually commit suicide. So the ward shut down” the disgusted look on Tendou’s face matched mine and he frowned deeply. “It took..... three years for them to get that piece of shit ward to get shut down? That’s beyond me” I just exhaled a breath and pursed my lips, “Yeah I know, but they just ended up transferring me to a different ward but I was legally an adult so they gave me a choice and well..... I have a friend, he’s actually in this ward also! He actually convinced me to stay, but not for him. It was for my own benefit, me and him have been friends since elementary school!”

Tendou had a look of shock and confusion on his face, “oh..... really? What’s his name?” I nodded my head happily and smiled widely. “Kozume Kenma!”

Ａｒｅ ｙｏｕ ｓｕｒｅ ｙｏｕ ｗｏｕｌｄ

ｌｉｋｅ ｔｏ ｓｉｇｎ ｏｕｔ？

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Ｗｅｌｃｏｍｅ Ｄｒ． Ｔｅｎｄｏｕ

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Tendou had just walked you back to your room and he was headed back to the staff room with long and fast steps, when he reached the door it swung open due to the force of him pushing against it. It slammed against the wall behind it and his friends were once again still sitting down at the table bewildered, “Tendou? What’s wrong?” He shook his head conflicted before pointing at his silver haired co-worker. “Come with me”

He led him into his office and walked up to his computer without closing the door behind him or sitting on his chair, he just pushed it out of the way. His fingers slammed against the keys rapidly, “What’s wrong now Tendou?” Semi came up behind him with a puzzled expression. Tendou just stayed quiet and kept typing on his computer, “Okay so look, Y/N said that she has a friend at this ward right? But if you look in our files, there are no results for a Kozume Kenma” Tendou mocked Y/N’s voice when he said his name, “She also mentioned that he was roomed with her. Buuuuuut if you got to the files of the first ward she was at, their files say a guy named Terashima was roomed with her”

Semi sucked a breath in before thinking silently, “We could make a call to the second ward she was transferred to and ask the big guys that work there about her” Tendou nodded deep in thought. “Yeah.... yeah that could work” it was silent as the phone line rang, Tendou tapped his fingers against his desk timidly and Semi was sitting down on the previously unoccupied rolly chair. The phone rang a few more times before a deep voice answered, and Tendou made eye contact with Semi. “Yeah this is Doctor Tendou Satori at the Shiratorizawa Psych Ward, who am I talking to?......Alright Mr. Kuroo, well I’m assigned to this woman, L/N F/N, that was recently transferred from you guys. She told me about a Kozume Kenma but there are no results of one in your files?”, Tendou hit the speaker button and the voice on the other line inhaled deeply before letting out a long sigh.

“Yeah..... there was no Kozume Kenma in our ward. But the three of us were friends growing up, Kenma actually committed suicide when we were in secondary school. That was when Y/N started showing major signs of depression and schizophrenia, she started seeing and hearing Kenma everywhere she went but when she transferred to our ward, I made sure that I was the one assigned to look after her. It seemed like she was getting better but I could tell being around me was holding her back from fully healing, so I transferred her again.” It was like Tendou and Semi were having a staring contest the entire time, Tendou’s lips were parted with a loss of words.

“Oh..... alright thank you for this new information, well have a good rest of your ni-” He was cut off by Kuroo, “Hey listen.... Tendou was it? How’s she doing? How is Y/N?” Tendou sucked air through his teeth feeling lost. “I thought it was going pretty good, but with what you just told me? It’s like I’m back at square one with her” The line was silent before a knock was heard on the other side, “Okay look, I gotta go but I’ll email you my personal number alright? We can talk more about it if you want, and maybe.... you can keep me updated on her?” He just nodded like the man was right in front of him to see.

“Sure thing, alright I’ll let you go. Have a good one” The phone clicked and Tendou sighed letting his head drop, “Semi?....... I gotta do it” he turned his head to the side to meet eyes with his friend and Semi just sighed crossing his arms. “Only if you genuinely feel like it’ll better her wellbeing”

Ａｒｅ ｙｏｕ ｓｕｒｅ ｙｏｕ ｗｏｕｌｄ

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[animeyanderelover]

You added more prompts?! Wow! I'd like prompt 90 with Ronald please. If that's alright? I've never requested him before(if you don't count my request with all the Reapers) so I'm interested how it would turn out?!

I always wanted to write more about Ronald so I’m all up for this.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, manipulation, killing, blood, violence

Prompt 90: “Babe...! Shit! I’m sorry you had to see this, but please believe me! He deserved it! No,no,no, don’t be scared of me. You know I would never harm you.”

You had to have a bad nightmare. Yeah, that must be it. In reality you were right now laying in your bed and just had a bad dream. You just needed to wake up. That was all. You quickly pinched yourself in your arm, hoping to wake up like this. But you didn’t. The only thing you gained from it was a burning pain from where you had pinched yourself, staring almost hypnotized at the red mark that was slowly starting to rose on your skin. A mark that showed you that this wasn’t a dream. No. This was reality. The harsh and painful reality. Something that you didn’t want to accept. He had lied to you. He had lied all this time to you. You should have known that someone like him couldn’t be a human. He had been too nice, too friendly, too charming. Too good to be true. And you had fallen for that. Who wouldn’t have when a young and handsome man had been wooing someone like he had done with you? Ronald had always been there for you, even after you had suddenly somewhat became lonely. You didn’t know why suddenly all contact you used to have had been died out, but you had at least Ronald with you. Ronald had been always there for you. He had been your shoulder to cry on, had always given you enjoyable times and had always tried his hardest to make you laugh. You had sometimes felt like you didn’t deserve him. You had always thought of him as an angel who had appeared in your life to keep you safe.

But with blood soaking his clothes, hair and spectacles you had to overthink this because right now he looked everything, but angelic. He had killed that guy...He had killed that guy! Why? Why had he killed this man?! What had he ever done wrong?! You could only stand there, watch the scene in front of you displaying. How had you even gotten in this position? Why had you been here in the first place? You knew you had a reason and motivation for why you had decided to go that late that night out. But in that moment your mind was too messed up to think of that reason, being busy with sorting the thoughts that were whirling around in your head. You didn’t know what to do, not wanting to watch this anymore, but also not being able to move. You were rooted on the ground, watching Ronald and the still flowing out blood from the man. Ronald didn’t look like he had noticed you so far, just sighing annoyed and letting one of his hands run through his, now blood covered, blond strands of hair. “You’re honestly just a nuisance. Because of you I have to do more paperwork now. But you know what? I’m fine with that. If it means that you won’t be able to put your plan into action I’m willing to endure the pile of paperwork. Everything to protect my sweet (y/n) from scum like you.”

Your breath hitched slightly in your throat, feeling your heart picking it’s pace overwhelmingly fast up. He had killed for you?! No! You didn’t want this! You had never asked him to go that far for you! He could be sent into prison because of this! But then you remembered what you had just seen. You doubted that the police would be able to overpower him and this...tool of his. How could he look so perfectly fine whilst standing above a corpse which he had killed in the first place? He acted so cheerful. No signs of regret or guilt, giving you the terrifying thought that he might have done it a lot of times before. And he looked indeed like he had done it a lot of times before, making you flinch when he suddenly started whistling. How could he?! How could he be like this?! Your emotions were out of your control, you felt like they were bullets which hit you over and over again, making you somewhat dizzy and leading you to having a harder time to breathe. Everything in front of you started to become blurry, but only when you felt something wet trailing down your skin did you realize that it was due to your own tears. The many emotions inside of you caused your head to hurt and your heart to clench. You were angry, confused, heartbroken and sad, felt betrayed and disappointed at the man you had thought to be able to trust the most from all people. But that had been a lie. He was just like everyone else. But that didn’t mean that the knowledge of it still stung. You didn’t even notice when a guttural sound escaped your lips, not being able to hold it back.

It sounded strange, your whine echoing through the dark night, building a contrast to the silence that was crawling in it, making it stand out even more. And Ronald must have heard it as well because he suddenly tensed up, his whole body being alarmed by the sudden noise before quickly snapping his head around, eyes narrowed in suspicions. But the moment he layed eyes on you they widened in shock and surprise. “Babe...! Shit!” You flinched visibly when he called you by the nickname, one of the many he called you, you had used to always love. But now it didn’t cause the butterflies to erupt in your stomach like it used to always have. Instead it caused a sickening tingling somewhere deep down in your core, giving you the feeling of being able to throw up at any minute. The fact that you got a, oh so nice, look on the dead body didn’t make it better, watching all the blood still flowing out of his already dead body and noticing how his eyes had so far rolled back in his eyes that you only saw the white in his eyes. You had never taken Ronald for someone messy, but in this case it looked like he had lost himself a bit. You desperately tried to tear your gaze away from the corpse, but for some reason it stayed frozen on it, not being able to look away. You started trembling, suddenly feeling very cold. But not because of the chilly night air.

“I’m sorry you had to see this, but please believe me! He deserved it!” You didn’t even fully registered his panicked words nor did you register when he quickly stepped towards you. The only thing your brain was able to focus on was the dead man, your thoughts seemingly drowning in the dark red liquid surrounding his body. Your mind repeating the same sentence over and over again, seemingly the only thing you were able to think of right now. “Ronald killed him! Ronald killed him! Ronald killed him! Ronald killed him! Ronald kil-“ You were thrown out of your loop of anxious and shocked thoughts as well as your paralyzed state when you felt Ronald laying one of his hands on your shoulder. And your body responded the only way it would respond in every situation when a killer would touch you. Instantly jerking back and getting into a run-or-fight state. Every muscle in your body was strained, ready to be used to it’s full potential. You felt adrenaline starting to get pumped through your system, giving you a sudden boost of energy. But it also caused a boost in your emotions, letting you feel the fear inside of you even greater. You bit your bottom lip to prevent it from wobbling, but the way you always took a step back when he stepped forwards or just the look with was almost screaming I’m scared” told him only too clearly how you felt. And you instantly noticed the frown on his face upon seeing you being afraid of him.

“No,no,no, don’t be scared of me. You know I would never harm you.” There was a switch in his tone. Before it had been panicked and shocked. But now it had changed. It sounded almost like he was cooing at you, his voice sounding so sweet and charming that it made you feel even more ill than you felt already. It was the same tone he had always used when you had cried over something and he had tried to comfort you. And this tone had normally always been something that had made you fell better, but now it had the complete opposite effect. The scene of him looking all too much like his usual happy self appearing in your head when he had talked to the dead. He was two-faced. Who could tell if he wouldn’t kill you at any moment too? Ronald seemed to read your thoughts from your facial expression, trying his hardest to keep his composure. “(y/n), do you seriously think I would ever hurt you? Haven’t I proved my love to you countless times?” He sounded somewhat disappointed and hurt, making you stop in your tracks and look at him. His friend visibly deepened, twisting in a somewhat painful mask. And to your huge surprise you felt guilt sparking up inside of you, his actions pulling on your heart strings like he had intended too. He wasn’t completely wrong. For as long as you could remember Ronald had only been sweet and doting to you, always helping you with whatever you had needed. You really didn’t want to believe that he would hurt, or even worse, kill you.

But that didn’t help erasing that you had just seen him killing someone in a way no human could, raising two questions inside of you. Why had he killed that man? And what was he? You were still shaking like a leaf, but now you stood frozen on your place, not moving an inch. Not even as Ronald took slow and more cautious steps towards you, not wanting to risk you losing it and sprinting away from him. This situation had been already complicated enough as it was from the moment you had seen everything with your eyes. And if you should run away it would get even more difficult. And in all honesty, he would prefer it if he could have it the more easy way. Ronald wasn’t a person who liked making things more harder to deal with than they could be. So he silently hoped with every step he took closer to you that you wouldn’t have a change of mind in the last second. He only allowed himself to be a bit more relaxed when he stood right in front of you, placing both of his hands on your shoulder and letting a small sigh of relief out. You hadn’t done everything. That meant he hadn’t have to terrify you even more of him than he had already done.

You still didn’t have enough courage to look him into his face, letting your head hang low in an attempt to avoid his eyes. His face was still smeared with blood and having him so close to you caused the smell of blood to invade your sense of sense, making everything spin in your head for a few moments. That was until Ronald moved one of his hands under your chin and forced you to look up, right into his face. Your eyes instantly started darting around, refusing to see the sticky liquid splattered on his face and soaking his hair. That was until you heard him saying in a charming, yet also somewhat strict voice:”Look at me.” And you listened, the sweet tone he was using drawing you in, like it had always done. You knew that face he was giving you too well. The face filled with adoration for you, ready to charm you in whatever way possible to make you just as infatuated with him as he was with you. Back then you had found that cute, but now you realized how dangerous this was. The way he was able to make someone fall so hardly for him was a problem. The way he was gazing over you and causing a mix made of fear, but also warmth bubble up inside of you was dangerous. He was dangerous for you because he had the ability to make you addicted to him. And you knew if you wouldn’t do something now the already tight grip he had on you would only keep getting stronger until you wouldn’t be able to escape. But how could you run away from someone without leaving a part of yourself behind?

So against your own will, or at least part of your own will, you could slightly feel yourself relax after a minute or two in his grip. This made Ronald smile slightly, starting to feel better due to seeing that he still held some power over you. “I have a lot to explain to you, don’t I? Let’s just leave this place before someone sees us. I promise I’ll tell you everything once we get home. Alright?” You didn’t know whether to feel disgusted or not when hearing his gentle voice, luring you to him like he had done all the many times before. And just like in the past it worked this time as well. “O-okay.”

[scriptaed]

ink nemesis. 05

Genre: Angst/Fluff || paparazzi!au; fake dating!au;

Pairing: Reader x Yoongi

Length: 7.8k

Synopsis: As an aspiring writer drowning under the public’s radar, a click of the pen is all you need to accept your supervisor’s offer to co-write an article for the SS - Secrets Spilled, a regular section of your company’s weekly tabloid; but fabricated stories and invasive details aren’t all that you write when you discover Min Yoongi’s dirty little secret. 

Help.

The ones who need it the most, speak it the least; not you, though, certainly not. You’re an exception, a loophole in the system they call humanity and its fragile emotions. Stone cold, apathetic, incapable of sorrow—somehow, under the cruel hands of reality, you’ve conjured a facade, a true master of a weighted heart and a bottled mind. 

No one knows you. No one understands you. No one wants your company unless you’re needed.

Rather, you won’t let anyone know you, you won’t let anyone understand you, and you won’t let anyone take advantage of you. 

Because how could you dare enable them to belittle you? You’re a self-proclaimed warrior in an army of one, fighting for the dignity of one, dying in the name of one: yourself. To wage a war against the rest of the world with a weapon fractured by faults as to be named honesty is to submit defeat; so you conceal the cracks and force in whatever you can to provide a temporary fix with permanent damage. 

You’re strong, you’re intelligent, you’re independent. 

Ill spite, malevolent comments, self-absorbed requests, they could never faze you. 

You’ve cultivated this art yourself, see? Your chest no longer aches, your mind no longer lingers, and your heart is numb but nonetheless persists to beat blood into your flesh. Emotions are mere words you could once sympathize with in the days of yore now overtaken by the present you. 

Frozen cold but begrudgingly living, you’re still a human.

Are you human? 

Your end lies after this frosted, forsaken era, a time you had sworn to never allow to be shed the light of day; but you had underestimated the addiction that vulnerability entails, for in the presence of him, you find yourself coveting for more. 

One moment, one touch, one kiss at a time, he disassembles the stone wall of your own prison. You could still remember it clearly. The graze of his touch thaws your icy skin, from your fingers to your arm, forming a trail of swirling, mystical circles. The warmth of his delicate, slender fingertips and the comfort of his palm resting on your cheeks elicit a fervent burn to your already rosy cheeks. The gaze of his secure, intent eyes that meet your wavering ones convey a thousand words more than any picture could. 

It’s okay to be weak. It’s okay to not understand. It’s okay to rely on me. 

It’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to admit defeat. 

Even if they try to stomp on you, even if the entire world parades in the aftermath of your end, with me, you’ll always be okay. 

It is only now, as you lie on the bed side by side to this man whom had only been an infinitely distant star, do you believe that soulmates in the midst of countless constellations could truly coexist. 

He is the star whom you had always wished to whisk across your dull skies, after all.

There’s no doubt about it. He’s shy and a tad awkward, but in this very moment, he doesn’t dare take his eyes off his celestial pair and neither do you. The scene still electrifies your very being. Your insides stir at the vivid memories of his hand clutching yours after the two of you exit the daze in the aftermath of your kiss of faith and hastily leading the retreat back into your apartment. 

You could still whiff the petrichor along with his faded hint of minty, fresh cologne intermixed with the musky scent of his studio. You could still hear her gasp accompanied by the thud of her grab onto the concrete. You could still catch sight of her familiar silhouette, fading farther into the distance as he whisks you away, the two of you stumbling into the elevator and impatiently jabbing at the button to enclose the doors as well as your privacy, giggles, and breathy, fleeting kisses; even if the following hours of confiding in the silent embrace of another all occurs in a blur, you could still live vicariously through a moment too dreamlike to be true for an extinguished star like you.

On this bed and on this very night, serene on a high of this surreal spur of the moment, you finally believe you could reveal your authentic self. 

You hate your work.

The coworkers who only acknowledge you in search for aid after you had outscored them on monthly evaluations, the authorities who only take interest in you when you churn out works that rode the waves of ephemeral trends, the public who forgot you within the blink of an eye because you could not serve their exact orders, and the company that keeps you within the confines of your damn contract despite being promised freedom as a creative writer—all of your insecurities come flooding before your eyes.

As you turn to divert your attention from the ceiling to the now asleep boy, you wonder how you could halt the return of ice that creeps along your melted chambers. 

Would Yoongi treat you the same? Would he discard you when his interests prove to be fleeting and you could entertain him no longer? Had you fallen for the genuine him or had he put up a facade like your own? 

Is it okay to be happy? Is it okay to be in this unrealistic and unhealthy relationship between yourself, the predator of a paparazzi, and him, the prey of a star? Is it okay to love elsewhere outside of writing? The subconscious squeeze of his hands that wander over to yours subconsciously in the midst of sleep tells you: it’s okay.

Like each other’s liquor, finely aged by the warm embrace of another lonely soul passing by the cold, cruel skies, you’re gracefully lulled into deep slumber, wondering, wondering, wondering...

-

A chaste kiss held to your forehead as he holds both sides of your head securely, whispers of his trek to work, and tucks a blanket over your cradled body were only enough to stir you gently in slumber; for when you awaken by the sunlight that floods through the curtain you had drawn open along with the windows at dusk, a rarity in this chamber, the plush of his lips are as ethereal as last night. 

A hoarse groan follows your lengthy yawn when you discover you had somehow slept through the violent buzzing of your phone. One eye just barely peeled open and the other kept tightly shut in the blinding wrath of your screen, you reenter the interwebs with inadequate precaution so unlikely of you. 

The dozens of messages from clout-chasing coworkers whomst names you didn’t even know until the news between you and Yoongi had broke out were one thing. You had been so desensitized to the nagging idea of being used and tossed to the side at the convenience of others that you roll your eyes and scroll past without a second thought. 

The messages you receive on your personal writing blog, however, are a different matter. 

[Anon 7:01 PM] When is the bots update?

One minute right after you posted your longest work up to date of which you had poured your heart and soul into. Not even a single nod to its existence. Not even a courteous waiting period of five minutes.

One minute.

[Anon 8:20 PM] Put your god damn works under the read more line. It’s so annoying to scroll past

It isn’t your fault the “read more” option malfunctions on various devices.They wouldn’t care to listen, though. You’ve explained a myriad of times but received radio silence in return. 

[Anon 8:03 AM] OMG i can’t believe you finally updated bots! i won’t lie, i was upset when i thought it was discontinued. welcome back, writer! 

Welcome back? Writer? 

You had never left; and even if it had been several months since the last update of said series, it had never been indicated as discontinued. You had been here, writing, and interacting every single day of the past two months. Where, why, how would they assume you had left unless updates were the only factor to the status of your blog?

You have a name. Maybe you’re just looking into things now, surely. Perhaps it’s the grogginess of the morning haze that has left a bad taste on your tongue, but writer? Your name has been plastered all across your blog. It’s the very first line of your header on the top of your page, for Heaven’s sake! 

You had to have been overthinking things and conjuring conclusions that had never been implicated between the lines in the first place; but you couldn’t help it, not after your hours upon hours of work had been discarded, ignored, and kicked aside. No one is obligated to read all of your works. No, but all you desire is mere acknowledgement. You want to believe this is a rare mistake, yet why is this just one of the many incessant, perpetual trends of your blog as of late? 

Is this your fault? 

And why are you feeling so guarded, accused, betrayed, victimized, and so utterly frustrated, when, clearly, someone is supporting you? 

The pain gnaws at your constricted chest, so you handle it with the only coping method you know: writing.

[Reply] first off, thank you for supporting bots :”) i’m glad to know of your enthusiasm for this series. however, as much as i know you didn’t mean any harm with this comment, i do have to confess that this comment kind of irked me;; i get it if you’re upset because one of your favorite series hasn’t been updated in a while (2 months, really, which isn’t as long as i’ve seen some other series go without updates), but i’ve already said multiple times that the series is not on hiatus. i’ve already said i was working on it, and if i wasn’t, it was because i was busy with life and academics, which are my utmost priorities, or i was investing time on other fics. 

which leads me to say, i didn’t come “back” with the update of bots. no, i’ve always been here and i’ve always been writing. in fact, i posted a 33 THOUSAND words long oneshot for namjoon just 4 weeks before updating bots. and it’s not just bots, it happens for every ongoing fic that somehow overshadows all of my other side works. 

again, i know that these aren’t your intentions and i’m definitely reading into some comments, but with all the messages i’ve received, the interactions i’ve faced between my various fics, i feel like i have to voice my thoughts on my own blog. 

i’ve held back and bottled up my own emotions on this blog for almost 3 years now, but i’m just going to say this: i am a writer and i am human. i am not a writer of just one fic, of just bygones of the sun, of just the labyrinth, of just paper hearts, etc. i am NOT defined by just one work. i am so utterly grateful for the support any of my fics receive, and i’m not saying that people need to read all of my works (you’re obviously not obliged to and i’m thankful if you read even just one work), but i’m just asking for you guys not to just acknowledge my existence/worth only when your favorite fic is mentioned.

At the end of your spill, when all is said and done, you fail to publicize your heart by the simple click of a mouse like the many times before. It’s revitalizing to finally put the amassed angst in your chest into words, but the guilt of burdening others with concerns that no one deserves to bear plagues you on the daily; so there it stays, hidden and buried in your drafts for the long years to come. 

With moments of dread like these, however, there never fails to be dozens upon dozens more that awaits to whisk you away into brighter days within the comforts of your inbox. There were countless readers who would send you unconditional support through thick and thin. You could never understand how kindhearted they were to you, someone they’ve never seen, heard, and sometimes never even spoken to. Were they trying to take advantage of you? Are they trying to coax you into a perpetual cycle of writing absent of rest? Why were you always searching for a fault when so many have displayed nothing but patience, love, and understanding to you?

Just why could you not let anyone in? 

It’s an ongoing battle between you and yourself, one proven to be fruitless a myriad of times before. You let out a hefty sigh, persisting to express your gratitude, genuine and cautious to omit one half the truth, when a certain comment sends your heart racing. 

[MP3 7:56 AM] The pianist sounds like an enigma. Reminds me of this one girl I’ve been crushing on lately. Can’t wait for the story, genius. 

The ear-to-ear grin adorning your lips don’t come to attention until your phone rings and the butterflies in your stomach scatter as you’re snapped out of your short-lived reverie. A relieving yet oddly disappointing name plasters across your screen. 

“Yes, Solji?” 

“Y/N? Where are you right now? Are you home? Where’s Yoongi? Is he next to you?” you can hear the shaking of her head as she forces an abrupt halt to her blurted questions. “What I mean to ask is are you okay?” 

“Whoa, calm down, are you using me as a guinea pig for your future child or something? Ooh, someone must have got it on lately,” you hope your wiggling brows could be captured by the suggestive tone of your voice. “Don’t worry, I’m doing fine—” you sigh “—you’re the only one who actually worries for me at work. Thanks, I’m at home right now. Yoongi should be at work—wait, how did you know he was with me?”

“The paparazzi somehow caught you two last night in front of the apartment and now pictures have leaked and literally everyone’s talking about it at work. You’ve been living under a rock the entire last night, haven’t you? Or did you two…” she gasps. 

“No!” you exclaim almost to vehemently. You clear your throat and repeat with a lowered voice, “no, we didn’t do anything last night. We just...” 

Your cheeks burn red, despite the truth in your statement. 

“Girl, you better give me the entire story in full detail later,” she presses as the excitement manifests in the squeak of her voice, “but for now, you should drop a visit to the company as soon as possible. Even if you’re on a break, boss still wants you to attend our monthly meetings.”

“Ew, you mean those gatherings filled with passive aggressive jabs and snotty, arrogant colleagues?” you groan grotesquely. “I guess I don’t have the luxury to be fired just yet. Fine, whatever pays my rent.” 

“Don’t worry,” Solji’s familiar laughs envelop you with warmth, “I’ll be there too. I got your back.”

“Thanks, moooom,” you drawl. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Byeee,” she adds in a quick tease, “oh, and don’t forget: no glove, no love—” 

—she hangs up. 

Well, at least one person still remembers you, even if it’s to nag you about something that you would never even dare to fathom in the first place. Shaking your head, you laugh to yourself when your phone starts ringing again. 

This time, however, the name doesn’t disappoint. 

Your thumb accidentally accepts the call way too soon and you find yourself on the line with the very person who had your blood pumping just a second ago. 

00:00:01… 00:00:02…

“...hello?” 

His voice tangles your throat and you’re forced to clear it before hesitantly raising the phone to your right ear. You can’t sound too eager nor nervous, otherwise that would send the wrong signal—damn it, since when did you pay any attention to Yoongi’s impression of you?

“Yeah, what do you need—” oops, that’s too rude “—I mean... is something up?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he struggles to get his words out, “I, uh, left my… jacket at your place.”

You quickly scan through the mess of your apartment only to find his jacket neatly folded and conveniently placed right before you at the end of the bed. 

“Oh, found it. Do you need me to bring it to you—”

“—no,” the abrupt silence after his adamant refusal catches the both of you off-guard, “no, I can just… come over and grab it. Or, uh, you can keep it.” 

You could just imagine him shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, gradually catching onto his antics.

“Okay, I guess I’ll just keep this hundred thousand dollar jacket here,” you chime. 

“Oh?” you could hear him kicking his feet onto the desk. “You’re keeping my jacket as keepsake?” 

“And why would I do that?” you scoff.

“Because you miss me.”

His firm statement comes with ease and oozes with so much irking confidence that you force yourself to hang up before the fluttering in your stomach overtakes your very being… that is, until the phone rings again. 

“What?” you groan. “I told you I’m keeping your jacket and not because I miss—”

“—did you check your blog today?” 

“Huh?” he takes you by surprise. “Yeah, I did. Why?”

A momentary silence befalls his lips. “Oh, well, did any comment stick out to you?”

“Hm…” you play along. “No, not really. Is there a specific comment you’re referring to? Have you been checking my blog, Min Yoongi? Hm? Thinking about me?”

“Yes, I’m referring to the comment I made under ‘MP3,’ you dumbass.”

“In that case, yes, I did,” you snicker before hanging up, “maybe you should check my response later.” 

Your phone rings again. 

“Ugh, what now? You’re being so clingy—”

“—are you free tonight for dinner?” 

“Dinner?” you repeat, taken aback. “Dinner as in… date dinner or just dinner dinner…?”

“Well, I was just thinking dinner dinner,” he mulls, “but I guess we could call it a date if you so want.” 

“Shut up,” you can’t help but laugh, “it’s a date then. I have something to do at work but I’ll let you know where and when to pick me up later.” 

“Oh,” he pauses and follows up with concern, “do you need me to come with you?”

“No, it’s not like I’m getting fired or anything,” you snort, “thanks, though… it means a lot. See you soon.”

The phone rings again right after you hang up.

“What?!”

“Nothing, I just missed your voice,” he says nonchalantly and probably shrugged before murmuring darkly, “oh, and, I’m the one who gets to hang up.”

The dial tone fills the silent air. 

-

Oh, how had you ever forgotten the pain of commuting to work, especially when making an unexpected detour under time constraints?

[Xiao Lin 1:29 PM] Hey Y/N! Sorry for hitting you up out of the blue but can we meet up really quick? I have something important to show you. 

The acquaintance’s text had you nearly sweating bullets, for she had persistently insisted on meeting this very moment—an hour prior to work; because according to her, whatever she has in her hands could be a pivotal moment in both his and your careers. 

What could she possibly have and were you right in suspecting her friendly mien?

Your toes scrunch in the tight fit of your pointed heels, fearing for dear life at the pace you were striking the ground. Incessant gusts of wind from passing cars and buses dishevel your hair but you pay no mind to the distractions, striding down the bustling streets with tunnel vision settled on the coffee shop a few blocks from work. 

A series of bell chimes capture the attention of the girl who had sat in deep contemplation with eyes under her jet-black bangs, staring at nothing and mind evidently elsewhere. 

“Y/N, you’re here,” she gives you a small, gently pressed smile, beckoning for you to sit in the chair across the table. “How have you been doing lately?”

“Hey, doing just fine,” you prim, quickly shuffling into the seat. “So what is it you wanted to tell me?”

Her eyes widen at your haste, blinking blankly for a few seconds before reaching into her purse perched to the chair beside her. The long, luscious locks of hers fall gracefully into curtains that shield you from glimpsing at whatever she’s pulling out. Your heart is suspended at the brink of a cliff when she suddenly pauses, stares at the cards in her hands, and takes a deep, determined breath in and out. 

Alas, she unveils her weapon.

There, spread neatly across the table, is a series of photos capturing the intimate moment you had accidentally intruded on during that fateful night. 

“This girl here,” the white paint of her nails highlight the silhouette beside Yoongi on the balcony, “is the CEO’s daughter that I mentioned to you before.” 

Xiao Lin’s gaze peers at you from under her bangs, intently observing your every movement. 

You gulp. You struggle to breathe. You don’t want to give her anything that could jeopardize your career and most importantly… him. 

Why, though? Why are you protecting someone whose photos elicit the painful drop somewhere deep within you? Why are you conveying nothing but jealousy and insecurity from the flashbacks that play right before your eyes? Throughout the fantasy that has been the last few months, somewhere along the way, you had let him slip through a fault in your defenses, even under the once so vigilant watch of yours. 

“Okay,” you finally muster the courage to lift your gaze to meet hers, “and why are you showing this to me?”

“Y/N, aren’t you dating Yoongi?”

Well, are you?

“Yeah, but these don’t have any context to them. For all we know, maybe this photo is old and she could just be his ex.” 

“I’m afraid not,” she presses her lips into a frown. “This venue is the same day the news about you and Yoongi broke out. They’re wearing the same attire as in their press, as well.”

Your brows furrow at her persistence. “Where did you get these photos anyway?” 

“One of my sources happened to snap a shot and showed me just last night… including this picture,” she slides forward a familiar scene you had bore witness to—your hands cupping his cheeks, his back facing the camera as he leans into you, and the woman’s figure watching from afar. “Don’t worry about it, though. I made sure to delete the photos from all her devices, and even if she slips, no one’s going to believe someone without previous credit to back her up.”

“Well—” you’re completely petrified by the attack “—I’m sure there’s a misunderstanding.”

“Y/N…” she says hesitantly under her breath, “did you know about this…? I’m required to report everything to my company by contract, especially since this involves relations to our CEO, but I’m telling you this first because I don’t want to hurt one of my only friends.”

Friend? How could she call you her friend after cornering you like this? She must have something up her sleeve. She must. 

“I don’t there’s anything I could add,” you deadpan with eyes glaring at her. “People are gonna take those photos and run away with whatever wild stories they can capitalize off of anyways, regardless of my commentary.”

“That’s why I’m asking you… do you not want me to release these photos?”

“You’d do that…?” you frown, cautious in wading the waters. “Why risk your career for me?”

“I’m not so dirty as to throw my friends under the bus without a thought,” she laughs and pretends to zip her lips shut. “Alright, my lips are sealed, then. Oh, also another thing…”

You keep her under your wary watch, still dubious, “yeah?”

“I’ve heard through the grapevine that Bang PD has been in talks with the company an immensely popular tabloid, SS, writes under… which, from what I remember, is your company. I heard there’s a certain writer there whose stories they want to use for BTS’s concepts.”

“Oh,” you cock your head, “and why are you telling me that?”

“I’m just saying,” she leans back into her chair as she watches you gather your things, “be careful no one’s taking advantage of you, especially after those photos.”

“Alright, well,” you scramble to find a safe response in the mess of your state, “thank you for having my back, but it really isn’t something you should be meddling with. I really have to get going now—”

“—wait,” a delicate hand clutches onto yours before you could depart and you whirl around to peer down at her. With orbs reflecting the sun rays in its dark chocolate hues, she speaks. “You know I’m putting my entire career at risk by working behind my company’s back.” 

“...yeah,” your eyes narrow at her, “I’m thankful for that.”

“But you know the kind of industry we work in, right? People aren’t afraid to stab others in the back as long as it profits them, so we always have to be vigilant.” 

“So…”

“So,” her words never linger on her thoughts, “I’m saying I need assurance from your side that you won’t turn your back on me, either.” 

“Lin,” you let out a breath of disbelief, “why in the world would I tell your CEO about this?”

“I don’t know,” she says firmly, “but that’s the thing, we never know until we’re on our knees, regretting every decison we’ve ever made.” 

“Lin, please—” you’re at a loss for words “—please don’t hurt Yoongi. Don’t release those photos. Please. I’d do anything.”

“Anything that gives me leverage, Y/N.”

Her stern gaze bores into yours. 

What could you possibly tell her? That your relationship with Yoongi is fake? That would only be throwing Yoongi and the entirety of BigHit under the bus. You can only imagine the despair that would come from betraying him like that. 

“I don’t have anything, Lin,” your voice cracks on the brink of tears. “I seriously don’t have anything. Please let him go. Just this once. Please—”

“—Y/N,” she murmurs with those pleading eyes, equally desperate as yours, “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Yoongi. BigHit. His members. The company. Solji. SS… you could tell her about SS. 

“I’ll—” you hesitate with bated breath “—I’ll tell you my real pen name.” 

“Your pen name?” her eyes widen at your suggestion, accepting the weight of your proposition by the wavering of your breaths. “Okay.” 

With your career, past, heart, tears, and soul, your every being is encompassed by these two words. Should you let her have her way? Hand over the key to control your state of mind? Let the potential infiltration of outsiders to intrude on your one companion in life?

Should you give it all up for him?

“Ink Nemesis,” you mutter, feeling your heart drop. “My pen name is Ink Nemesis.” 

The recognition of your alias in the tabloids manifests in her brightened expression and you had never struggled to inhale with such magnitude like you did at this moment. 

“Alright, nice to meet you, Ink Nemesis.”

She smiles.

-

Something smells in this meeting room. It’s a perpetual stench that reeks your surroundings that you would do anything to bolt from your chair.

Bullshit. 

“What’s with the long face?” one of the girls asks you with fake concern plastered all over that overly done face of hers. If it weren’t for the incident just an hour prior, maybe your thoughts wouldn’t have been so malicious; but you can’t help but wonder how you had ever put up with her attempts to get on your good side when monthly evaluations were just around the corner. 

“Nothing,” you mumble, sitting even more upright when you notice her own pretentious posture. 

“Aww, did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?” another girl bumps your leather chair with hers. “Mr. Min Yoongi’s, perhaps?”

Oh, there’s the other girl who never really cared for your existence or anyone’s except her so called “squad” for that matter… until someone’s work garners enough momentum to be worthy of her attention, that is. 

“Yeah?” you snap and everyone jumps at the raise in your voice. “Well, whose bed did you wake up in this time?” The silence is overbearing enough to have you mentally regretting your temper in guilt. “Haha… just kidding.”

The group of girls force a nervous laugh before rolling back to their respective spots and gathering their files. 

“Ooh…” Solji mumbles under her breath beside you. “It’s 2019, Y/N. Slut shaming isn’t acceptable anymore.” 

“I know,” you grunt, storming out of the meeting room as Solji follows in your trek. “I messed up, okay? I’m just having a shitty day.” 

“Oh?” her playful expression immediately transitions to one of concern. “What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, unless you, their supervisor, can tell them to shut the hell up and stop acting so fake,” you roll your eyes and punch your timecard. “It’s just that they’ve never cared for me as a person until my works did somewhat well, and the only time that happened is when I hop on the bandwagon and write because I want to be praised and receive attention and not because I want to write. I can’t even be creative because then no one will ever even read my shit.”

“Is that why you’re still writing for SS?” Solji quickly punches her timecard and paces after you as the door slams behind you. 

Cars honk at every corner, buses puff at every stop, and lights beam in all orientations of the city as night befalls it. Her questions lingers in your mind, even as you march through the sidewalks and into the neighborhood a few blocks from the company. 

Why are you still writing for SS? Sure, the stream of comments are addictive not to say the least; but what you’ve always vied for is the euphoric rush of anticipation, the power that runs through your veins, knowing just how much control you had at the tips of your fingers. You had exclusive information and everyone is all ears. You could release a simple audio and set millions abuzz. 

At long last, the world is yours and you’re not theirs. 

“No, not exactly,” you finally answer. 

“Good then,” Solji huffs when she finally catches up with you at the end of the block, “because you should stop updating SS. I don’t want you involved with it anymore. I’ll have someone else in charge or maybe I’ll even pick it up again, just not you—”

“—what? No,” you vehemently shake your head, “no, why?” 

“Because he’s your boyfriend, Y/N. Did you forget that all of a sudden or something? It’s unhealthy to be writing as a paparazzi for your boyfriend. Does he even know about this?”

“Yeah, he knows I’m one…”

“For the SS?” she articulates.

“...no,” your voice is nearly inaudible until you erupt in protest, “but you can’t do that. You can’t just take it away from—”

“—yes, I can,” she raises a brow at your behavior, “it’s my tabloid.”

A sharp intake of breath cuts your words off as you submit to a temporary defeat in silence. A breeze passes by, carrying your locks gently in its waves along with the dampened traffic in the distance. 

It seems like the entire world is stripping you of your joys; because even Solji, the one motherly friend you could always rely on, is turning her back on you now. 

Your colleague senses the tension in the stagnant air and speaks once again, “what’re you doing here anyway—”

—a black car pulls up and you don’t hesitate to enter when you recognize the familiar silhouette of his through the tinted windows.  

“Do you always enter any stranger’s car—”

—Yoongi’s remark is interrupted by the shrieks belonging to a certain someone at the curbside. You had almost forgotten the reason SS was even created in the first place. 

“Oh my GOD! I’m-I’m such a big fan, I’ve loved you since you were a trainee a-and, I just can’t believe!!!” Solji manages to shrill as she jumps up and down, completely overjoyed.

“Do you know her…?” Yoongi whispers, slight concern intermixed with bashful gratitude adorns his face as your supervisor continues to jump in circles.

“Yeah, she’s, um,” you stubbornly give in despite your grudge, knowing fully well how much this moment must mean to her, “she’s like a mother to me. She’s a huge fan. Probably your first, actually.”

Solji’s head violently bobs in agreement and Yoongi could only chuckle at her enthusiasm. Removing her hands from her cheeks that are streaked with her tears, she manages to scavenge through her pocket to find a notepad and pen. She wipes away the mascara streaks and fruitlessly attempts to regain composure. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t want to act like a crazy fan. I mean, I’m not a crazy fan, but could you… if it’s not too much of a bother… sign this…?”

“Yeah, of course.”

It’s difficult for you to hide the grin twirling at the corner of your lips as he reaches over you to further fuel the elation Solji must have been squealing over. Once the star finishes his business, Solji ducks to meet the two of you on eye-level, continuously expressing her gratitude to her idol for his time when, out of the blue, she redirects her remarks to you. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Please understand I’m doing this for your own good,” she presses a bittersweet smile, even if you avoid her gaze by looking straight out the windshield. Chortling, she takes a few steps back onto the curb and waves you two goodbye, “have a nice date!”

The engine purrs to life as the window scrolls up and you’re left comfortably alone with Yoongi—until Xiao Lin’s voice echoes in the back of your mind. You had just given your entire life for this man whom you don’t even completely understand just yet. Lin has a point: who is that woman to him and why hasn’t he told you about her? 

Could you really trust the last remaining figure, a man of many secrets, in your life?

“What does she mean ‘doing this for your own good?’’ he quirks an inquisitive brow while keeping his eyes on the road. 

“Nothing really,” you mumble, looking out the window at the skyscrapers blurred by the warm golden streetlights. 

“Really?” he muses. “She seems like she really cares for you. I’m grateful.”

“Grateful? Who’s this cheesy man and where did you take my Yoongi?”

Yoongi chuckles at your retort before reaching behind your seat to reveal the bouquet of pastel colored flowers. He tips the adornment in your direction, beckoning for your acceptance. “Congratulations on being fired.”

“Ah, yes, there he is,” you roll your eyes briefly, despite the apparent smile that stretches from ear to ear as you take the bouquet into your hands. You could tell he must have ordered for an excessive number of flowers because the ribbon hangs on for its dear life to keep the bouquet unified. Your eyes flutter closed and you relish in the fresh, floral scent.

But he’s lying. He’s keeping something from you.

Alarms sound off to interrupt the ephemeral moment of genuine bliss. It always does this. You always do this. Why can’t you just take things as it is? Why suspect him? You’d be better off living in ignorant bliss. Or is it your innate method of preventing the dreadful anxiety that comes with the painfully endless falls off the highs? 

“Yoongi.”

“Hm?”

“Do you…” you struggle to speak, tongue-tied. “Do you… know anything about your CEO and how he’s coming up with your concepts?”

“Him? Coming up with our concepts?” his voice raises in surprise. “The boys and I come up with them ourselves. Why?”

“Nothing.” 

Your attempt to conceal your utter relief is in vain. 

“That’s a whole lot of nothing’s today,” he chuckles, catching a glimpse of you sniffing the bouquet before deciding not to press further. “Do you like the flowers?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty,” you turn to meet his cheerful gaze illuminated by the flood of red from the traffic light. “Why’re you suddenly acting like you’re my boyfriend?”

“Am I not your boyfriend?” 

He returns his attention to the street when the red shadows on his skin flicker green.

“You never explicitly said anything about it.”

“Why should I?” he muses as his hands find yours by the gear stick. He then intertwines his fingers with yours. “I feel our connection. You feel our undeniable connection. Do we need any words to define us?”

Words to define us. Words to commit. Words to omit the truth in the wake of a lie. 

“We do,” you firmly state and he turns to cock a brow at you. “I need to know who I’m with. I need the complete truth or else I can’t give my all in this relationship.” 

“Okay—” the both of you could feel the drop in temperature and the rise in tension “—what do you need to know?” 

“Do you know the daughter of the CEO who sponsored your movie premiere?”

“What premiere?” 

You raise your voice, “the night we met.”

“Oh,” the firm grip of his hands go limp and something mercilessly hammers against your chest, “no, I don’t know the CEO’s daughter personally.” 

Lies. Utter lies. He’s fucking lying. 

Why? Just why?

Do you tell him you know more than he thinks you do? Would that be a foolish tactic?

“Are you sure?” you press.

I’m giving you one last chance.

“What’s up with you, Y/N?” Yoongi frowns, brows knitted. 

“Nothing!” you nearly yell. Yoongi doesn’t react in the least bit. He retains that damn stupid cold facade of his, even as he lies. “Look me in the face and promise me you’re going to give this your all.”

Because I gave you my all. 

“Y/N, what even,” he mutters under his breath, turning to stare at you straight in the eye. “There’s nothing going on between us—”

“—turn the corner,” you demand lowly. “I want to go home.”

“Y/N, is there something I need to know?” he exasperates, groaning when you fail to meet the frustration in his eyes and obliges to your orders. “What the fuck is going on—”

“—what’s going on is that you’re fucking lying to my face!” 

Your screams stun him into silence. His lack of a response boils your blood. 

“I told you to tell me the truth! I literally shoved the answer to your face and gave you multiple chances to confess!” you struggle to catch your breath, chest heaving up and down. “At least say something damn it!”

The car comes to an abrupt stop. He doesn’t waste a second and shoots a stern gaze your way. His once cool temperament has been replaced by the fire set ablaze in the grinding teeth of his, jaws jutting and eyes darkening. One hand of his still clutches the steering wheel so tightly you could see veins popping under his white collared shirt. 

Both participants evidently fear the heated argument soon to erupt. 

“I don’t have any feelings for her,” he enunciates. “I only like you. I swear.”

“You still lied to me.”

“I’m sorry,” he takes a deep breath and sighs, eyes never disconnecting from yours. “I’m really, really sorry.” 

“Do you know—” you pause in a fruitless attempt to save yourself from breaking out into tears; instead, you choke over your sobs and despise the look of concern adorning that fake frown of his “—do you know how much I gave up for you? Do you know how much I left behind to protect you?” 

“What do you mean—”

“—I gave up my career, Yoongi!” you bellow. “I belittle myself, I’ve become hooked on the idea of fame, I’ve become the very person I feared. I’ve bargained away my only companion for you and you betrayed me!” 

“Y/N, just tell me what happened and I can fix it.” 

He sounds genuine, but is he? Can you trust him? Can you trust anyone but yourself?

Can you even trust yourself?

“You can’t,” you fail to inhale silently in an attempt to conceal the shaky breaths of yours. 

“And why not?”

“You can’t because,” your hands rummage through your purse for your phone so hastily that you almost cut yourself with your own nails, “because I told the one person I warned myself over and over not to trust but did anyways all because I loved you.”

The both of you are taken aback by your sudden confession; and if it weren’t for the condition that you’re in right now, maybe this would have been a monumental moment you would’ve spent hours and hours reliving and relishing through your memories. 

“I loved you,” you repeat, eyes shaking,” and you hurt me.”

He hurt you. Maybe he didn’t mean to. Perhaps this is partially your fault for neglecting to fill him in on your side of the argument. This could be the moment you tell him about that night you caught sight of him with her on the balcony or about how you had just revealed your pen name and signed your career away if Lin were to use it against you for his sake. 

But he hurt you.

People have trampled over you and you’ve had enough. 

How do you hurt the people who have hurt you?

How did Yoongi hurt you?

You don’t realize the blinding screen of your phone where your blog and its eight tabs are on full display until Yoongi squeezes your left arm. The imprecise, hasty jabs of your fingertips at the screen render your phone unresponsive, only furthering your fueling frustration as you clutch the device to the point of numbing your hands. 

Delete. Delete. Delete. 

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he seems to have collected himself in comparison to your wrath. 

“I’m deleting my shit,” you grumble through gritted teeth. 

“I know you are,” he emphasizes, “but why are you? I know how happy your blog makes you. Why are you doing this? What’re you going to do about all the people who love and support you?”

“Why do you care?” you snap, stopping momentarily to shoot a death glare at him. “It’s not always a source of happiness for me. To tell you the truth, you brought me happiness when this blog couldn’t. You, Yoongi. How am I supposed to trust them if I can’t even trust the one person I thought would have my back?” 

He’s silent. He’s holding back.

“How am I supposed to handle all this… all this pain? How do I—” you pause “—how do I get back at the people who hurt me? How do I regain control of my life?”

Silent, again. He’s biting his tongue. 

“I take back the one thing I had that they wanted from me. The one thing they can’t have. Then, I’ll finally be in control again—”

“—what kind of fucking control is that?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I said,” the flames in his orbs have ice crawling along your skin, “what kind of fucking control is that? How can you call yourself in control when people have literally forced you into taking down the works that provided you solace? How can you call yourself in control when you’ve allowed people to get into your head and push you to this state of darkness, to the point that you want to hurt? You have this stupid fucking complex about you and I get it. I really get it, but do you ever plan on acknowledging it or do I have to shove it in front of your face for you to understand?”

“What? What is it that a successful boy like you could understand about a girl born with nothing like me? Huh?” 

 Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to bring forth reality. Cold, cruel, just like your world.

“You think the whole world is against you and you’re nothing but its poor victim; but have you ever stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, others are suffering under your hands as well? That, maybe, there are people who are genuinely kind and those people deserve so much more of your fucking time than those dumbasses who don’t deserve the light of day. Won’t you trust in the people who light up your world like you’ve lightened mine? Won’t you?” he flinches at the waterworks that stain your cheeks. “Are you going to love yourself by accepting yourself or are you going to keep picking at the faults of others and acting blind in front of your own? When will you let down those walls, Y/N?”

An epiphany dawns upon you when you find your gaze fixated on his, locked and challenged; and for a second, it’s almost as if you’re staring at an older self in the mirror. 

“You’re right,” you grab your purse and phone, kicking open the door. “There’s nothing left to love, not even myself.”

“That’s a lie,” he shakes his head, “at the very least, you should love yourself.”

“How can I?” you give him one last tilted, pressed grin before slamming the door. “How can I when even I have lost sight of myself?”

You can tell his heart shatters by your confession. His face turns pale, his lips part but fail to utter a single word of assurance, and he simply lets you go. Turning your back on him, you smile to yourself and take long, painful strides toward your front door. 

Why does it hurt so much to bring him pain like you so wanted? 

You’re on your way to self-discovery. All you need is to be alone again, like you’ve always told yourself to be, like you’ve always known would be best for you. 

Your mind works on autopilot, as if distancing yourself from others is merely second nature to you by now. The accursed picture still haunts you even as you shut your eyes. 

[99% uploading]

Now, finally, surely, you’ll be a hundred percent free from burden and the hands of……..

...

[moondustis]

the louvre (m)

pairing: jung jaehyun + reader genre: angst, smut, fluff word count: 9k warnings: unhealthy behavior, discussion of depression and anxiety.  summary: “On the nights you spend alone the feeling of loneliness is not as comfortable as it used to be. It’s like Jaehyun has engraved himself in every part of your life, trying to fit in inside every empty spot you had.” song rec: are you bored yet? - wallows / tardes que nunca acabam - baco exu do blues

'Cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset But I can't help from asking, "Are you bored yet?" And if you're feeling lonely you should tell me Before this ends up as another memory Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie? Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie?

If there is one thing that’s familiar to you is loneliness. You’ve known it for ages and have known it in its rawest and cruelest forms.

At sixteen your parents get a divorce. You saw it coming, of course, all the fights you grew up listening to had to come to an end at some point. You move in with your mother and when you come home from school she has already left work. by the time she arrived you’re already fast asleep.

It gets lonely pretty fast and you find out that you’re not the best at dealing with it. It starts slow, you’re crying for no apparent reason and there’s a sadness in the bottom of your stomach that wants to claw its way up. Then it’s hard waking up in the morning so you just skip class, one day then another, then a whole week. It’s hard finding things that excite you and you stop talking to all of your friends because why bother.

Loneliness eats you alive and you let it. spending most of the time asleep or dozing off from medication you shouldn’t be taking, you waste your teen years just like that, barely graduating. Barely making it.

At nineteen you don’t really know what to do with your life, applying to colleges you are sure you won’t pass and still sleeping more than you should. You fight a lot with your mother and you want desperately to get away. You’re still lonely but now it doesn’t bother you that much anymore.

At twenty you get into college to study art, the only thing that seemed to spark something inside of you. You move away to a dorm room that’s so tiny you can’t share it with anyone. You prefer it that way.

You got so used to being alone that anything other than that makes you antsy, makes you want to cry and hide and never leave your bedroom again. You make few friends and go out very rarely and when the therapeut you attend once asks if you’re okay you cry until you feel empty again.

At twenty you meet Jung Jaehyun.

You feel out of place at the party you are, can of beer feeling cold in your hand and music too loud. You wish you were drunk. Your friend, Taeyong, had abandoned you just a minute ago with the excuse of finding the person he was interested in and telling you to have a good time.

You should have left, of course. but you don’t and Jaehyun finds you by yourself on a couch. He introduces himself with his dimples in your face and offers to keep you company. You shouldn’t have let him.

One drink and you’re laughing at something he says. Another and his hand moves to your thigh. Another and he’s kissing you and then, as if you’ve lost all the control in your body, you let him take your virginity on a stranger’s bed.

That’s problem number one. Problem number two is that jaehyun is too sweet, too gentle. He treats you with a care that you don’t think you deserve. He calls you baby and swallows your moans with his tongue and you feel out of breath. It’s too much and all you need at the same time. You hate it.

Problem number three is that he texts you the next morning. You can’t even remember how he got your number in the first place, deciding to ignore it. You like being alone, it’s better like this.

☾

Winter hits hard this year and you curse yourself for not buying gloves as you walk down campus, your hands stuffed around your pockets. You try to walk as fast as you can, wanting to reach the heat of the classroom for surrealism and finally be able to feel your freezing hands again.

It hasn’t snowed yet, just low temperatures for now, making everyone wish that when it finally comes it’s so devastating that finals have to be cancelled. You pass a girl that you had class with last semester, avoiding her eyes and the possibility of a boring conversation about the weather.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you don’t have to see to know it’s Taeyong wanting to make sure you are not still in your bed. You didn’t really want to attend class today but if you skipped another time he would come beat at your door and force you outside. You take it off your pocket, your hand freezing just a little bit more, and text him a quick okay.

What happens next could’ve probably been avoided if you were paying attention to where you were going. But you’re not, so you bump right into the poor person that had the misfortune of being in your way.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry…” You start saying, cutting yourself short when you see who it is. With a little surprised look on his face, Jaehyun stands there looking at you and you pray to all the gods that he doesn’t remember just exactly who you are.

He does, of course. “_________.” He says, almost excitedly and smiles at you while fixing the beanie in his head. He looks like you remember him from last time, with the dimples and soft eyes.  

“Hi.” Is your clever response because you have no idea what you should be saying to the boy that took your virginity. Who you then proceeded to ignore for a whole month. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah…” You wonder if this is as awkward for him as it is for you. You feel a cold breeze hit you and soon you’ll probably not feel your nose anymore. “You never replied to my texts, I kept wondering if I did something wrong.”

He looks nervous, biting on his bottom lip and shifting the weight from his legs from one foot to the other. You feel something in the pit of your stomach that is probably guilty. “You didn’t!” You say a little too loudly, hands moving as you speak. “I mean, I just got busy with projects, that’s why I never replied. I’m really sorry, you really didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Oh, okay then. That’s a relief.” He says, still looking nervous but more relieved now. “Did you manage to finish all of the projects?”

“Yes.” Why didn’t you lie, that’s what you should’ve done. Tell him that you would be busy for the rest of your life. “Just waiting for finals week.”

There’s a pause, like he’s pondering if he should say what he wants and you wait for the ground to swallow you whole, to end your suffering. Your phone vibrates again in your pocket, probably Taeyong cursing you for being late. You keep your eyes to the ground, avoiding his.

“I… we… maybe we can go out sometime, if you would like.” He tumbles over with his words, in a cute manner. “ I mean, since you’re not busy anymore.”

You’re stupid, that’s what you are. And you can’t say no to people, not when they have puppy eyes and are cute like Jung Jaehyun. So you say yes, promising you’ll reply to his texts this time when he sends you a day and place for the date.

You curse yourself and stupid Jung Jaehyun when you get to class, twenty minutes late, to the door already closed. You get in and try to walk in as silent as you can, keeping your head low until you get to your sit besides a very angry looking Taeyong.

“Why are you late?” He half whispers, half shouts, getting looks from the people sitting next to you but thankfully not the teacher, that continues to talk about René Magritte and his influences.

“Can you please keep quiet?” you whisper back, voice annoyed. “It’s not my fault Jung Jaehyun made me late.”

Taeyong looks at you like you just said the most scandalous thing in the world, ever the overreacter. “Jaehyun? As in that Jaehyun you completely ignored for a whole month?” The urge you have to hit your head on the table is overwhelming.

“Yes, exactly him.” You sigh, trying to focus on the teacher but you know for a fact you won’t be able until you spill out every single detail to your best friend.

“And?”

“I gave him a stupid excuse to why I never replied and guess what? He believed me and had the nerve to ask me on a date.” You get the words out as quickly and low as possible. “So now you have to help me get out of this mess without hurting the poor man.”

There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite pinpoint, maybe pity. Whatever it is, it irritates you a bit. “My sweet dear, _____. I’m not gonna help you ruin your chance of getting boned again.” He whispers, reaching out to hold your hands affectionately. “ And your chance of getting to know someone besides me.”

You met Taeyong on your freshman year at one of the introductory classes you had and from the moment he said something nice to you, you stuck to him like glue. He was sweet and caring enough to let you build yourself a little home of sorts inside his life and became your closest friend ever. You had made other friends of course but it was never that meaningful or that lasting.

“What? I know plenty of people beside you. I just talked to Jungwoo and Sicheng yesterd-.” You mutter under your breath.

“They don’t matter.” Taeyong cuts you off, dropping your hands from his hold. “You’re going to this date, even if I have to drag you there.”

All you can do is roll your eyes, muttering a “whatever” before you are turning to face the teacher and finally pay attention in class.

But it’s not like you can pay much attention to it, the numerous slides of surreal paintings and confusing european names forgotten by your overthinking of what will happen on friday.

Later, when you get a text from an unknown number with stupid emojis, the butterflies in your stomach go mad. You ignore them but reply to the text.

“Yeah, friday sounds great :-)”

☾

Friday comes in a blink.

You don’t see the time pass, with your many classes and finals studies keeping you busy. You could have said that you completely forgot about the date but Jaehyun kept texting you all week, keeping a nice conversation about anything that came to mind. He was nice, pleasant to talk to and funny in a lame way that entertained you to no end. It was unusual for you to be interested, almost excited, about talking to someone.

That doesn’t stop the dread that sets in your heart when friday night comes and Taeyong annoyingly texts you asking if you are already ready for the date. You are in fact, standing in front of your mirror with a frown with your face, the skirt feeling too alien and the makeup on your face feeling like too much, even though it’s barely nothing. You don’t know why exactly you’re putting so much effort in this, why you want so hard to impress Jaehyun when there’s no clear goal in your mind.

You’re late and your heart beats like crazy in your chest when you arrive at the café Jaehyun suggested. It’s a small thing that feels even smaller in the midst of your almost anxiety attack, it smells like coffee and something vanilla. You go cold when he spots you and waves for you to come over to the booth he got, you notice that there’s already two drinks on the table.

Your heart doesn’t calm down when you sit in front of him, or when he smiles at you, but you think you do a good job at hiding it when you mutter a low hello, sitting down in front of him. “I’m really sorry I’m late.”

“Oh, it’s okay! I didn’t wait for long.” He says, smiling bashfully and you feel the weight leave your shoulders a little. “I already ordered us drinks, I hope you like mochas. If not it’s totally okay, I can order something el-.”

“I like mochas, Jaehyun.” You interrupt him, smiling at the way he seems nervous. Almost as much as you are. You take the thought of how adorable he looks with his ears turning pink to the back of your head.

The date goes well, better than your overthinking self let you thought it would be. Jaehyun is nice and the talking go as easily as it did on texting, making your nerves calm down easily. You find out he’s getting a degree on chemistry, his eyes shining when he talks passionately about what he likes about it. He also says he’s a big fan of art too, naming all the mainstream artists and making you fond on how he’s trying to impress you even when he doesn’t have to.  

The date goes so well that you accept to go on a second one, to watch a stupid horror movie that’s playing on the cinema near campus. When Jaehyun pretends he’s scared just to hold your hand, you let him. When he kisses you on the back of the empty theater, because according to him the movie is too boring, you let him.

On the third date, to a simple ice cream store, things go so well that he invites you over to his dorm room. You accept, for some reason, and when he presses you against his door the minute he shuts it close, you let him kiss you again.

Maybe this isn’t something you should be doing, but you couldn’t care less. You feel on cloud nine with the way Jaehyun is kissing you, with just the smallest desperation in it, like he’s been waiting a while to do this.

You move your hands to his neck when he deepens the kiss, his own hands holding you by the waist as close as possible to him. The low whine you let out when his tongue finally moves against yours is embarrassing but he doesn’t seem to mind a bit.

It’s nice, so nice that you don’t think much of it when he moves you around, his lips still on yours, until the back of your legs are hitting something hard and then you’re falling down on the softness of his mattress. Oh, your mind smartly provides but you don’t have the time now to overthink, not with Jaehyun kissing you. Now, with his body on top of yours, you get a lot warmer and the pace of the kiss slows down, Jaehyun sucking on your bottom lips and his hand lazily tracing patterns on your exposed hip.

When he breaks the kiss his breath is heavy and lips all swollen, a look that you probably mimic. He smiles at you in a way that’s too sweet for what you are doing, and, out of all things, that makes you blush slightly, smiling back at him. He looks beautiful like this, your mind dazedly provides, and you wish you could keep the image in your brain forever.

Not even a minute passes before he’s moving his head down to press small kisses on your exposed neck, innocent at first and then with more purpose. You shiver when his slight cold hand dips inside the warmth of your sweater, moan a little when he sucks on a spot that’s a little too sensitive, teeth grazing your skin in a way that’s too sinful.

Again, you don’t think much when he hikes your sweater up, letting it bunch just underneath your chest. Or when he presses kisses on your stomach, on the skin just below your belly button. You let your legs rub together, trying to get at least a bit of friction, hoping he won’t notice.

“Can i take these off?” He asks, hand already on the button of your jeans and all you do is dumbly nod. maybe you’re a bit naive, too inexperienced at this. He removes the pants with a little raise from your hips, throwing it gently somewhere in the room. You think what a sight you must be, with your sweater bunched on your chest and pink panties with cherries on it. There’s definitely a blush on your face now.

You try to press your legs together on instinct when he presses a kiss just inside your thigh but he doesn’t let you, hands gripping at them and making you keep them open. He continues doing as he pleases, sucking on the soft skin and biting little marks on your thighs. It isn’t until he moves to remove your panties that your hearts starts beating a little more fast. “W-What are you doing?” You ask dumbly.

“Huh?” He looks up at you, a confused look on his eyes and both lips and ears a cute pink shade. “Gonna eat you out, is that okay?”

“I, what? Why?” You mumble, words getting lost together on how nervous you suddenly are. You didn’t expect jaehyun to eat you out on your third date. Or ever. The mere thought of it making yours cheeks warm. You always thought of it as something too intimate, even too dirty, definitely not something a boy would be offering you so willingly. “You don’t have to, Jaehyun.”

He looks at you like you’re talking nonsense. “I want to.” Is what he simply replies with, thumb playing with the hem of the infamous panties. “Can i?”

You think you’re going to explode from how embarrassed you are. You nod bashfully, taking a deep breath and turning your face to the side so you don’t have to face him when you say the quietest yes ever. You miss the silly smile on his lips but not the way he whispers a little “cute”, making your cheeks heat impossibly more.

He removes your panties then, placing them neatly on the side of the bed before he’s moving between your legs again. Just the proximity of him is enough to have your heart racing with anticipation.

In an almost lovingly way he kisses your clit, making you shift a little. He holds your legs open, fingers drawing soothing patterns on your thigh. You have no time to overthink it because in no time his tongue is licking you in a kitten like way before he let’s his tongue fall flat on your entrance, gathering the wetness there and dragging it up to your clit. He eats you out like he has done this many time before and it turns you into a mess very quickly.

You moan out his name loudly when he sucks on just right, your hands gripping at the sheets. You don’t even feel embarrassed by the noises you’re makings, too overwhelmed by the heat that pools in your lower abdomen.

You feel his hand move against where your is gripping the sheets and for a moment you think he wants to hold hands. But he takes your hand in his and brings it to his head and oh, you finally realize it, he wants you to grip hair. So you do, and the way he hums approvingly sends waves of pleasure all through your body.

You come easily, your whole body shaking and he doesn’t stop his movements until you’re whining from the over stimulation. When he looks up you almost die from the way his lips are shiny and how your wetness smears his chin. It’s sinful and dirty but you still let him kiss you senseless.

You must be feeling brave after your orgasm because you move your arm in between your bodies until you’re palming him through his pants. He breaks the kiss, moaning lowly against your lips and it has to be the hottest thing you have ever experienced in your life. You want to hear it again and again.

You move uncertainty, stroking him over the thick fabric of his jeans and watching as his eyes flutter close. “Baby…” He almost whines. “Please.”

“I-I’ve never done this before.” You mumble, seeking for his eyes and he laughs softly. ”You gotta teach me.”

Your words seem to affect him a bit and he quickly moves to undo his zipper, pushing his pants and boxers down in one swift motions. His shirt goes next.

You don’t remember much from the night jaehyun took your virginity, but you do remember that he had a pretty dick. If such a thing even exists. You keep your eyes on it until he’s back on top of you, lips meeting yours briefly before he’s taking your hand and moving it on top of his on his erection.

He shows you how he likes it, stroking his length in quick motions and when you get the grip of it he lets his hand fall to the sides of your head, supporting himself. It’s mesmerizing the way he groans when you run your thumb on his head, spreading pre come on his length so the slide of your hand is easier. “Faster, baby.” He says, pressing a kiss to the side of your face, and you obligate.

Maybe it’s the confidence the sounds he makes gives you. Or the impulsiveness you’re feeling rushing through your body. But you stop your motions and start moving around until you’re positioned between his legs, your face so close to his dick you are sure he can feel your deep breaths. “I want to try something.” You simply say.

“No, baby. You don’t have to.” He says gently bringing his hand to your cheek, thumb caressing it. You pout.

“But i want to.” Is what you reply with and he doesn’t have the strength to counterpoint that, hand moving to your hair still gently and bringing your face so close to his dick that your lips touch it slightly.

You try to remember what you saw on porn and let spit gather on your mouth before you’re letting in fall on him, hand moving quickly to spread it. “Oh fuck.” His voice is raspy and you’re sure you’re clenching around nothing right now. “You’re so dirty, where did you learn this?”

You just blush, looking at him with a look that will be forever engraved in his mind. He looks at you like he wants to ruin you. You would let him, of course.

You try to get as much of him in your mouth without gagging, which is not much, using your hands on the parts you can’t. It’s probably far from the best head he ever received, you’re too messy and uncoordinated, but he seems to enjoy it. He moans the way you like so much and praises you in ways that make your cheeks heat and your heart flutter. He moves your head when he starts to come, letting it fall on your face and just a bit on your open mouth, the taste making your eyebrows furrow.

He’s sweet after, cleaning your face and still showering you with praise you don’t think you deserve.

You don’t overthink it when he cuddles you and asks you to stay the night. Or when you wake up the next morning and think that you wouldn’t mind waking up to his parted lips and messy hair everyday.

☾

You assume it’s the natural thing to happen, there’s no discussion to it and it makes you feel a bit of anxiety pool in the pit of your stomach. You’re confused and freaking out because maybe you’re not ready for this and maybe you’re not ready. It always scares you when things move too fast and now you’re seeing Jaehyun almost everyday. And when he kisses it’s not as meaningless as it used to be. You feel on the verge of panic.

Taeyong assures you it’s going to be okay, that you can’t have control of things all the time like you want. Sometimes you should let it happen as it goes. So you do that and when Jaehyun kisses you, you kiss him back with as many meaning as you can give it.

Weekend dates turn into nights spent at his dorm, then you’re doing everyday things with him. There’s something strangely comfortably and personal about going grocery shopping with someone while they hold your hand.

After one month of something that it’s quite undefined, Jaehyun introduces you to his friends and calls you his girlfriend in front of all of them. One of them, Johnny smiles and says it’s nice to finally meet the girl Jaehyun talks about for hours non ending. The flowers in your stomach bloom so uncontrollably that the fear of how big this whole thing is for you is forgotten for a moment.

You’re not good with relationships, of any sort. Being alone has taught you a lot of things but how to be with another person is not one of them. You move uncertain, scared of doing the wrong thing and getting hurt. Or the last thing you would want in this world, to hurt Jaehyun.

He’s so patient, asking you all the time if there’s something wrong and holding your hand tightly when you seem nervous about something. He kisses your worries away, not even bothering when you sometimes get a bit distant, take too long to reply. You don’t feel like you deserve any of that.

On the nights you spend alone the feeling of loneliness is not as comfortable as it used to be. It’s like Jaehyun has engraved himself in every part of your life, trying to fit in inside every empty spot you had. When you close your eyes he’s right there behind your eyelids and his perfume is everywhere. You let yourself melt into it.

You don’t know if it’s normal to feel like this, the only other romantic experience being a puppy love years ago. You wonder if the thoughts of Jaehyun that roam your mind and warm your heart are normal, wonder if you’re supposed to feel butterflies in your stomach everytime you see him even after months of dating. For a minute you let yourself think that maybe, if soulmates were real, then Jaehyun was yours. Something meant to happen, that’s how you feel when he looks at you.

You hope he feels the same way. There’s no way your heart can take it if he doesn’t.

☾

On one normal saturday morning, when you and Jaehyun are out buying groceries, he asks you to dye his hair for him.

He has stopped in the beauty aisle, eyeing all the products, examining the different boxes and colors,  when he throws the proposition at you. “You’re an artist.” he reasons, when you look at him like he’s crazy. “So that makes you the only person I trust to do this.”

You sigh, standing in your tip toes so you can look at the products too over his shoulders. “I’m not a hair artist.” You mutter. “What if I fuck your hair up and you end up bald?”

He finally decides on the brand he thinks is more trustable, throwing the box in the small shopping cart. “I wouldn’t mind being bald that much.” There’s a playful smile on his lips when he turns to look at you and it makes you snort. “Would you?”

“Would I mind you being bald? Yeah, probably.” He has the nerve to pout, arms pulling you closer in a hug. Deciding to entertain him you press a quick peck to his lips, blushing when notice there’s an old lady just walking in the aisle you are.

He notices you embarrassament, not letting you get out from his embrace when you try to and moving his face close to yours in attempts to kiss you again. The lady looks like she finds the scene adorable. “Maybe I’ll make you bald on purpose.” You bite at him and that just makes him laugh out loud.

Later Jaehyun sits patiently on a chair in the middle of your tiny dorm room, rolling through his instagram as you apply the bleaching powder on his hair. The smell is awful even with the bit of your window open. “Does it burn?” You ask him. “I read somewhere online it’s supposed to.”

“A little, yeah.” He replies, looking up at you and throwing a cute smile. You show him your tongue. “But it’s not like, unbearable. Don’t worry, baby.”

You hum, examining his hair to see if you didn’t miss any parts. You’re sure he’s trying to show you a brave façade because there’s no way something this white and smelling this bad is not burning his scalp to hell. “Now we only gotta wait like 20 minutes, I think.” It’s late afternoon now, you notice when you check your phone after removing the protective gloves and throwing it in the ground.

“If we finish before it gets dark we could go get ice cream.” He suggests, making you nod enthusiastically. Your weekends usually went like this, going out to eat something together, sometimes watching a movie and then coming back to either of your dorms. You liked it.

While you wait for the minutes to pass you decide to put on music to play, something from an r&b playlist that Jaehyun likes, and you smile when he sings along. He shows you random videos on his phone every now and then but besides that it’s just comfortable silence or talking about how your week went. He pretends to understand when you go on about a new painting technique and you pretend to understand when he talks about the experiment he did on class.

Your alarm goes off, signalling that the 20 minutes have passed. “Do you think it’s done already?” Jaehyun uses the small mirror on your wall to examine the hair, it’s considerably more light and it doesn’t seem to be falling off.

“Yeah. It doesn’t have to be like, stark white.” You grab a towel from you drawer, moving to your bathroom with Jaehyun following behind.

Washing his hair in the sink proves to be a difficult job, even more because your bathroom was definitely not made to fit more than one person inside. But you make do, with water splashing everywhere because he keeps giggling and moving around too much. When all the bleaching is removed Jaehyun stares at you with very blonde hair that for some weird reason looks really good on him. “Maybe I should just keep it like this.” He says, bending his knees down just a little so you can reach his head to dry it.

“It wouldn’t be that bad.” You reply, admiring how cute he looks with his hair sticking up everywhere. “But the hair dye was too expensive.”

He hums, moving back to normal now that you’ve finished drying his hair. He circles his arms around your waist and keeps staring at you for longer than necessary. “What?” You hit his chest playfully, feeling shy from his stare.

“You’re just too pretty, is all.” His words make your cheeks heat up. It’s like he has the special power of always turning you into an embarrassed mess with just a few words. “And I love you.”

The butterflies in your stomach go wild, your chest feeling like there’s no space for breathing. It’s almost painful and you could cry, but you don’t. It’s the first time he has ever said it out loud like this, and so sincere. You had figured, of course, by the way he looks at you and how he makes love to you oh, so gently.

The only reply you can give him is the press of your lips to his, sweet and slow, and it seems to do. He sighs into the kiss, trying to deepen it but you don’t let him, breaking it and smiling at the way his eyes have stars on it. “Come on, we have to dye your hair pink.”

It takes another hour for you to get the dye on every part of Jaehyun hair, getting distracted here and there because he keeps cracking stupid jokes and trying to convince you to dye yours green so you two could be like Cosmo and Wanda. Afterwards, when you stare at Jaehyun in all his glory with the pastel pink hair you feel your heart swoons. It suits him perfectly, like the color pink was invented for him and no one else. The way he blushes when you tell him just how pretty he looks just makes the whole thing better.  

You finish just in time to watch the sunset as you two make your way to the small and cozy ice cream shop down the street. You feel content with Jaehyun’s hand in yours, even if the way your coat matches his hair makes people that pass by you stare weirdly.

“Here you go, baby.” He says, handing you your ice cream and sitting down at the table you got inside of the store. “Cookies and dark chocolate, your favorite.”

You thank him, a smile on your face. It’s such a small thing, to remember someone’s favorite ice cream flavors, but it makes your heart jump happily in your chest. You watch as he takes a spoonful of his own choice, pistachio and vanilla, and it dawns on you that you love him. You had thought about it before, of course, but right now you’re so filled with infatuation for the man before you that you would like to scream to him the words that he said earlier.

He gets you out of your little daze by moving to wipe your hand with a napkin. “Stop staring at me, your ice cream is melting.” He scolds but with no harshness to his voice. “You’re like a little baby I have to take care of.”

You show him your tongue playfully. “Still, you love me.” Your next words are impulsive, something unlike you in many ways, but they just fall out your lips like they can’t be unsaid anymore. “And… I love you too.”

He smiles, lips slightly smeared with ice cream and leans in on the table to kiss you, almost getting ice cream all over his sweater. His lips taste like pistachio and it’s perfect.

Later when you two are walking back to his dorm you ask him if he believes in souls.

He looks at you a little confused. “Maybe?” Is his reply. “I don’t know, why?”

You swing your connected hands a little, pondering on how you should say what you want to, not wanting him to think you’re weird or delusional. “Because I have this feeling that… well, that our souls are somehow connected?” You say stumbling a little over your words, voice uncertain. “Like maybe we were supposed to meet, you know?”

He smiles like he finds the whole thing amusing. “Are you trying to say we are soulmates?”

You blush, nodding and he stops midway, making you stop too. “You’re probably right.” Is the only thing he says before spinning you in his arms and kissing you lovingly. You can’t hide the smile that spreads on your face.

☾

Jaehyun is always gentle, even when he doesn’t have to be.

You two had a nice date, something fancy for once at an italian restaurant that opened recently. By the end of the night you’re tipsy from the wine you shared and a little too touchy towards him.

You think the lingerie with shyly put on for him would stir something, make him lose control but it’s the same as always. He eats you out, like it’s his favorite thing in the world, and after he has made you come he enters you with a little moan coming from his mouth. He fucks you slowly and with care, vanilla almost. And you love it, you do, the way he bites your neck a little as he thrusts into you in a pace that drives you crazy. But you want more, want him to fuck you like he’s desperate and crazy for it. Wants him to hurt you in ways that make your eyes roll.

“Jae, please” You whine against his mouth. You don’t want to feel delicate, don’t want to feel like this means something to him. You want him to fuck you so fast that you forget that you feel something, you want numbness and complete bliss.You want to forget the way your heart blooms in your chest when he looks at you like he is right now. “Y-You can fuck me harder.”

He makes a little sounds that it’s half a groan and half a confused noise. “Yeah?” He asks like he wants to be sure and when you nod he presses his lips to your in a bruising kiss. He thrusts one more time slowly and then he’s picking up the pace, fucking into you fast and deep like you had wanted so many times.

It makes you scream, hands grabbing at his shoulders with the same force he’s gripping at your thighs. “Yes, yes.” He seems just as affected, grunting and groaning just beside your ears. “Want you to ruin me.”

It does something to him, his hips snapping with as much force as possible and he moans so pretty you clench around him. “You’re going to fucking kill me, baby.” He whispers, thumb coming to your lower lips and you let your mouth fall open, letting him press it flat on your tongue and you suck it like you’re trying to put on a show for him. “You’re so dirty for me, aren’t you? You look like an angel but you’ll let me fuck you like this.”

You never thought he could say things like this. Your eyes flutter close and all you can do is nod, lips still around his finger as he fucks you so deep you’re seeing stars.

It’s very easy to fall into a delirious headspace, with the way Jaehyun is doing exactly what you asked him to. It’s exciting to see him lose control like this. “You like it, baby?” He asks, removing his finger from your mouth so you can finally speak. “Hmm? Like being fucked like this?”

Just then he thrusts in a spot that has you clenching around him and throwing your head back in the pillow. “Y-Yes, please.” You moan desperately, feeling your orgasm closer with each of his thrusts. “I’m so close, oh my god.”

You can feel the sweet relief in the pit of your stomach and when Jaehyun presses his thumb on your clit, circling in pace with his thrusts, you explode. It’s heaven and heat thrumming to your veins as you clench so hard around him that his hips stutter and he grips your thighs harder.

“Fuck, fuck.” He curses, closing his eyes as you ride the last waves of your orgasm. “I’m gonna fill you up so well, Baby, you want that?”

You can even reply properly, giving him a weak nod and clenching around him again so he’s moaning your name loudly, hips stuttering as he comes inside of you.

Afterwards he’s back to he’s delicate self, treating you with so much care that’s it’s like he feels he has tainted something precious. He cleans the come that starts to drip off you and you tell him how much you liked the whole thing. His ears turn red when he says he liked it as well.

☾

You don’t like parties, never had. too loud and too many people but Jaehyun seems to love all that.

Every friday he tried his best to convince you to attend one of his friend’s get together, telling you how fun it would be and that he would be by your side the whole time. You say yes, more because of the second reason than the first one.

The party it’s not that bad, not at all. There’s not too many people and Jaehyun’s friends are nice, so nice that you even dance a little with some of them. After many and many shots of the red liquid they keep giving you, it’s sweet enough that you don’t think much when you down all of them.

Once upon a time, on your first ever college party, Taeyong had introduced you to a thing called pure vodka. You were never much of a drinker before so you don’t know exactly why you get so carried on with it, ignoring the burning on your throat as you down shot after shot.

Knowing you would drink that night you had decided to not take your anxiety medication, mistake number two. It all happened very slowly, like in a movie almost. You began getting tipsy and too happy, dragging Taeyong around and laughing with him. Next thing you knew your heart felt like it was trying to escape your chest with how fast it started beating. It was the worst panic attack you ever had, crying you little heart out because no one knew how to help you. You don’t remember how the night ended.

You should’ve remembered that occurrence as you take your fifth shot,Jaehyun keeping you close with a hand around your waist. “Slow down, baby.” He says, moving your hair out of your face.

You kiss him once, twice and then you’re giggling stupidly. He seems amused by it all. “I’m okay, Jaejae.” He laughs at the silly nickname.

You have a good time, you really do. Dancing with Jaehyun and laughing with his friends until you feel the tightness on your chest. Like you had suddenly gotten the soul sucked out of your body, you feel an emptiness that you’re too familiar with. Your eyes start welling up as the world around you spins and spins. Jaehyun is beside you, talking excitedly to one of his friends and you grip tightly at his shirt. You really don’t want to bother him, not when he seems to be so happy, but you feel it getting worse and worse and the panic settling in the pit of your heart.

“Jaehyun, can you please take me home?” You say quietly so no one else will hear it. The knot in your stomach keeps getting tighter and the last thing you want is to cry in front of a whole party.

His face changes immediately, worry all over his features and he searches your eyes for any signs. “Why? What’s wrong, baby?”

You just whine, childish and pathetic. “Please, can we just go?” You wish with all your body that you weren’t doing this right now, ruining his night like this.

He just nods, guiding you outside the party and into his car. It doesn’t take long for the tears to come, Jaehyun glancing at you every few seconds and it just makes you cry even more. “Baby, you gotta tell me what’s wrong.” He coos, hand coming to massage your thigh in a soothing way. You just shake your head, lowering it so you hair hides your face from his view. “Did something happen?” His voice is filled with worry.

You shake your head again, feeling the dizziness from the alcohol when you do.

When you get to his dorm you immediately try to move to his bed, want to hide there forever and feel safe in the warmth of it, but he doesn’t let you. He wraps you in his arms, hand stroking your hair and it only makes you cry more, hiding your face in his chest and probably getting his shirt all dirty. “Come on, baby.” He whispers as if to not disturb you. “After we clean you up you can lay down.”

He takes you to the bathroom, turning on the shower on a hot temperature and then starts undressing you with all the patient in this world. It’s not weird and he doesn’t seem bothered to be nursing you like you can’t possibly take care of yourself. You probably look a mess, makeup smeared and face swollen from all the crying. The world around you still spins a little.

You whine when the water hits your body and Jaehyun only sushes you, removing his smeared t-shirt so he can get inside the box with you. You fall putty in his arms as he tries his best to wash you, massaging your hair with care. You feel awful for doing this to him, when you don’t deserve half of it. You don’t deserve the way he cares for you or how treats you with such delicacy. You just ruined his whole night. “I’m… I’m so sorry.” You mumble incoherently, tears forming in your eyes again.

“No, no, baby. Don’t cry.” He says but it’s useless, the tears are already mixing with the water as they fall down your cheeks. “Tell me what’s wrong, please.”

You start talking about how you’re a mess and awful,  that you doesn’t deserve him and how you’re going to ruin his life because that’s what you do with everything around your life. Your words are slurred and you can’t stop crying anymore, weeping sounds coming out of your mouth and Jaehyun just holds you like the perfect man he is. “Shh, ___.” His hand rubs your back soothingly, getting himself all wet but he couldn't care less. “You’re none of these things and you’re not going to ruin anything.”

“I am!” You want to argue but he doesn’t let you, just hugs you tighter and whispers calming words until you stop moving around.

Afterwards, when he dries you both up and puts you on comfortable clothes, he takes you to bed and cuddles you. “I love you, ___. There’s nothing wrong with you.” He says and if you weren’t too numb now you would cry again. Your head starts to ache and you can feel yourself drifting off asleep.

☾

Things go downhill from there.

You get as distant as possible from everyone around you and there are days that you wake up and not a single part of your body wants to be alive. You skip class and don’t even mind when Taeyong sends angry texts scolding you.

You spend your days sleeping and painting, making good use of the strange inspiration you get whenever you have bad days. You’re used to this, have experienced it many times before, and that’s probably a bad sign. But even if it’s normal you’re still not the best at dealing with with, acting like it’s the end of the world whenever it gets bad.

Jaehyun texts you and you try to your best to reply and make up excuses to why he can’t come see you. He probably knows something is wrong but you don’t want to tell him that some days you wake up and you don’t find the strength to even wash your own hair. Don’t want to tell you that sometimes you close your eyes and think that the world would probably be better off without you. You don’t wanna upset him, not more than you already are.

Taeyong visits on a rainy day, almost slamming your door with how much he knocks. He looks angry when you open the door but his eyes often as he sees you, hair messy and wearing a hoodie that has too many paint splashes. You’re not feeling as empty as the start of the week, your heart warming up when you see him.

He hugs you for a good minute, before he’s looking at you with a furrow between his brows. “Let’s wash this hair, okay?” He says and you can’t help but smile a little.

You let him wash your hair in your tiny shower while you’re only on your underwear. It’s not weird or uncomfortable, never is with Taeyong. He massages your scalp while he tells you what you missed from class, you don’t pay so much attention to the artist names but his voice feels comfortable.

“Jaehyun has been asking about you like crazy.” He says with care when he’s drying your hair afterwards. You feel a pang of guilty in your chest and your eyes get glossy from unshed tears. “He’s very worried.”

“I have texted him that I was not feeling very well.” You say, voice small and Taeyong just tsks.

“You can’t just text your boyfriend that and expect him to not be worried sick about you.”

You bite your lips, your thoughts going a mess and you just want to hide in the safety of your bed again. “Maybe I should just break up with him.” You say, heart heavy in your chest. That’s not what you want. Taeyong knows that and he raises one eyebrow. As much as you try to pretend you would be okay if it happened, leaving Jaehyun would destroy you completely.

“You keep acting like you’re not worthy things as simple as a boys attention. You didn’t force Jaehyun into your life, he’s into it because he wants to, because he loves you.” Taeyong says and each words stabs a wound deeper in your chest. “You got so comfortable being lonely that you can get your head around the fact you don’t have to be alone for the rest of your life.”

You don’t notice that you start crying, never dealing too well with the truth being told directly to your face. Everyone was always so hesitant around you, being extra careful with their words as if to not hurt you. Taeyong doesn’t care about that, he tells you things how they are and he will gladly hurt your feelings if it means it’ll snap you out of whatever daze you got yourself in.

“One day you will wake up feeling miserable because you let a good thing go. Jaehyun knows you’re not perfect, he has seen you in some pretty fucked up days and he decided to stay. Give up control for once and let him decide if you’re not good for him like you think so.”

When he leaves you lay down and think of Jaehyun. Simply, you think of him, without you. You think of how his ears turn red when gets shy, how his dimples get so deep when he smiles. You think of how happy he got on his birthday because of the surprise party you threw for him with his friends. You think about the look in his eyes whenever he’s talking about or doing something he’s passionate about. You think about the time you both saw an abandoned kitten at the street and he almost cried because he couldn’t take it home.

Then you think about him with you. How he will go out of his way when you’re on your period and craving something sweet. How he looks at you like you put the stars in the sky and how he kisses you with so much care that it makes you feel like floating. You think of the time he spent hours in the phone with your mom talking about her flowers like he knew or cared a lot about the subject, just because he wanted to impress her. Of the times he’ll watch you paint in silence just because, in his words, it’s so mesmerizing. Think of every time he has made you feel special and every little thing he does everyday to show you he loves you, the little emojis and texts, the random kisses. Everything.

You try to think of living a life where Jaehyun is not by your side and when you do your heart feels like it shatters. You could live without him of course, but the thing is, you don’t want to.

You get up suddenly, changing as quickly as possible as walking until you’re on Jaehyun’s dorm front door. It’s a little stupid because you don’t even know if he’s home right now and you stand there, your heart beating a little fast after you knock.

“Hi.” Is what you smartly says and he smiles sadly at you. “Can I come inside?”

He steps outside and lets you in, there’s a few books opened on his bed and you realize that you probably just disturbed his studying. “I’m sorry, were you busy?”

He shakes his head, pushing the books aside and sitting on his bed, patting the empty spot beside him so you’ll sit too. You bask in the warmth of being close to him. “Not really.” Is all he says.

You hum, eyeing him and feeling your heartbeat go a little faster. You hate talking about your feelings, can feel your cheeks heat up from just the thought of it and you really hope you don’t end up crying in front of Jaehyun again.” I just came to apologize for isolating myself and not giving you an explanation.” You murmur eyes not meeting his. “And I know i’ve said that I don’t think I deserve you, and I really don’t, but I want you. So bad it scares me.”

When he doesn’t reply right away you start saying that you would completely understand if he wanted to breakup, your heart breaking a little, until he starts laughing. When you look up he’s staring at you like you’re crazy but there’s still fondness in his eyes. “You’re so silly. You really think I would want to breakup?” He grabs you by the arm and pulls you into a hug that almost suffocates you. Still, you let yourself fall into his arm and enjoy the feeling of being safe. “I love you so much, but you can’t just disappear and not tell me what’s going on. Do you know how many Frank Ocean songs I listened to while thinking of you?”

You scoff, hiding deeper into his chest and loving the way it vibrates when he laughs. “I’m really sorry.” Your words are muffled by his sweater.

“It’s okay, baby.” He pats your head sweetly. “But you need to realize that I don’t care that you are a little messed up, I am too. And I’m here when you feel like life is not going very well. I want to be here and take care of you.”

You look up to his face, examining the slight stubble that’s forming on his chin. “Are you sure? I can be a lot to deal with.”

He smiles, with his dimples showing. “I’m aware, and I think I can handle it.”

When he kisses you it’s like a weight leaves your shoulders. You’ll embrace loneliness when it decides to come again but for now you let Jaehyun fill the empty spaces like he was made just for it.

[sparklyandchic]

🦋 MINI MIND MAKEOVER 🦋

okay i started the idea for this mini little mind makeover when i broke up with my boyfriend in like january. instead of being sad or angry, i wanted to be grateful for this time and take it as an opportunity to make life better for myself. then quarantine happened, so some of these are related to things i’ve learned since that started. either way, these aren’t all concrete things to do for your mind; some of them are just ways of thinking or pep talks. but if you can find one little piece of information or thought that makes you a little bit happier for a moment, that’s all i can hope for!

5-htp: okay first off- please ALWAYS consult your psychiatrist or medical professional before taking a supplement! taking 5-htp with, for example, serotonin-increasing medications can lead to a fatal illness called serotonin syndrome. personally, i started taking it because i had been on 10 mg prozac for a few months. it definitely dulled a lot of my anxiety and had a lot of positive aspects to it, but it dulled them almost too much to the point where i felt apathetic and detached from myself and the situations i was in. i was in a very unhealthy relationship and felt like i needed my mental clarity and “overthinking” processes back in order to identify what i was feeling and how to deal with it. i felt a lot more “sensitive” after coming off it, which was actually really welcome for me at first, but then it sort of dropped off into withdrawals. i was having constant panic attacks and crying very often. after a while, i was debating going back on prozac, but remembered i had taken 5-htp before. 5-htp is an amino acid that is a direct precursor to serotonin being produced in the brain. when u eat turkey, tryptophan is converted into 5-htp which leads to your brain producing serotonin, thus why you feel calm and happy afterwards. after taking 5-htp for just a few days, ranging between 200-300 mg per day (again, do your research, ask your doctor, and start small) i stopped crying constantly and really felt this sense of calmness and wellbeing but without the detachment and apathy i felt with prozac. i could still think clearly but didn’t feel overly sensitive to every emotion which arose. personally, it is really a lifesaver and really does make a noticeable difference.

cognitive behavioral therapy: ive tried therapy a million times. well okay, like 5 or 6 different therapists. at its worst, therapists told me i needed to use my sexual power as a woman in order to get what i wanted from men, told me i’m bad at socializing and should do group therapy, said my mom shouldn’t have encouraged me to “be myself” when i was younger because it made me less likeable than if i had conformed to normal societal standards of dressing. i had gone to “therapists” who claimed to be trained in CBT, but when i told them about my experiences with dissociation, the only feedback i got was to “take more baths.” while going through a few unpleasant experiences in my personal life, i decided i should try CBT once more, but like the real kind. i found an ivy-league educated licensed psychologist (NOT a “licensed clinical social worker” who doesn’t even have a psychology degree!!) who SPECIALIZED specifically in cognitive behavioral therapy. just after the first session, i was so elated with my experience. as opposed to just telling me that i needed to be more normal or more kind or a better person, she tried to identify WHAT was making me feel that way about myself in the first place. she pointed out the positive things i do and reassured me i was kind, good, and deserving of good things. she pointed out many aspects of my situation that would have taken me days or weeks to come to on my own. i’ve realized my hubris isn’t that i’m not socially acceptable or not perfect enough, but its just that i tend to THINK that i am these things despite having no evidence of it. so, over time with therapy, my positive self image about who i am as a person has grown and strengthened and i dont just randomly feel like a bad human being anymore lol. moral of the story, if you wanna do therapy but it keeps sucking, dont give up. go to a legit psychologist, find someone who specializes in the type of therapy you’re seeking, and also be vocal during your sessions. stand up to your psychologist when they continually push a narrative onto you, and explain why you don’t agree with it. sometimes it’s their job to try different narratives to see what fits, and if you just passively let them say what they want to, you’ll never find the truth of your experience! it’s a communal effort! therapy isn’t usually a magic cure-all where one session fixes everything that goes awry in your brain. but if you find someone who knows what they’re doing they can in fact really help your thought processes become less twisted up and more clear and healthy.

meditation and mindfulness: a few weeks ago i felt anxious and overly driven to get things done to the point where i spiraled into a space of guilt or a panic attack over not getting enough things done. meditation can be so so helpful here. it’s better to spend an hour sitting and doing nothing, but doing it peacefully and then calmly moving on to doing something else, than to spend 5 hours stressing yourself over every single thing you need to get done and how much time you’re wasting. the things that need to get done will get done. another thing that i’ve realized and say to myself a lot is: “focus not on doing all things perfectly, but on doing the small things well.” by this i mean, stop thinking about the 20 things you need to get done and how it all needs to be perfect, but instead take your time with the task that presents itself as most beneficial right now and focus on enjoying it and giving your whole self to the process. for example, stop thinking about how you need to clean your room, your closet, donate clothes, take a shower, take out the trash, read, workout, etc. think to yourself; “which task would bring me the most joy right now?” if the answer is taking a shower, then take that damn shower. bring your speaker into the bathroom, scrub every inch of your scalp with shampoo, scrub your feet and behind your ears and your neck with body wash, brush the conditioner through your hair fully. you may end your shower with 19 other things to do, but god damn if you can’t enjoy a single one of them and be present for it, what’s the fucking point! go light a candle and bask in its glow, go make your bed and huddle up in your neatly arranged covers, go take a long bath or a thorough shower, and be proud of and content with that today. 

relationships, with others and yourself: okay, if you missed the memo, my ex-boyfriend sucked. like genuinely was a bad person. he was a drug dealer, so that’s red flag number 1 (which i ignored of course), he hadn’t graduated high school (he was 18, i was 20, he was supposed to graduate the last semester but refused to do the work and ignored me and his mother when encouraged to do it, which is uhh definitely red flag number 2 which i also ignored), he habitually did not show up for dates on time or lied about what he was going to do or what he did (literally everything he did was a red flag and i rlly ignored all of it). the worst part was how he responded when i worked up the courage to speak to him about it. if we had agreed upon a time for our date but he showed up literally 8 hours late, he would blame it on me because i “could have called” him, or that i was “demanding too much of” him, or that i “should have said something earlier so now [i was] just dragging it out because it already happened.” basically, whatever narrative he pushed at me, i eventually gave into. i’ve dealt with gaslighting in a relationship before and a part of me knew what was happening to me, but a part of me also kept having hope for him, kept empathizing with him, kept wanting to believe in him. after a bit too much time, i finally realized you have to trust yourself, empathize with yourself, and believing in yourself over anyone else. at first i felt bad for him not being able to graduate because i had my own struggles with high school and getting work done. i thought he may have issues but he deserves someone to be there for him because i wanted someone to be there for me. despite the pain and stress he was causing me, i sat around crying over him because i cared about him and tend to over-empathize with people close to me, whether they deserve it or not. my therapist told me something that at first i did not understand, but over time came to grasp in its entirety: “some people do not deserve your love or kindness.” after our first session, my homework was to “consider when you are being kind and when you are being taken advantage of.” this made me realize that what feels like your instinctual nature to be nice to others, can in fact be a self-sabotaging unfair action, depending on the other person’s response. i might be dishing out a lot right now, but bear with me. think of it this way: you regard an action as a “kind action”. you might think “kind actions” include: forgiving someone for large mistakes, putting someone’s needs over yours, sparing them some change when they ask for it, listening to the problems they are dealing with every day. BUT when their actions include not forgiving you for minor mistakes, not giving a sh*t about your needs or considering them, not caring how much money they take from you and how much money you need to have around, or habitually glossing over your problems because it doesn’t benefit them to care, THEN those actions you performed are NOT “KIND ACTIONS” anymore. the act of continuing to give them leeway is now the act of being taken advantage of. the act of giving them money is now the act of being taken advantage of. the act of buying into their story at the expense of your sanity, is now the act of being taken advantage. basically, all i’m saying is START PUTTING YOURSELF FIRST AND TRUSTING YOURSELF WHEN YOU FEEL SOMEONE DOESN’T HAVE YOUR BEST INTERESTS IN MIND. 

ending thoughts: i know quarantine is difficult right now. the desire to grow contrasted with the inability to move. maybe try and follow that old 2008~ quote; “bloom where you are planted”. you might not be able to reach the goals you thought you would during this time. you might not be able to run a marathon or make a bunch of new friends or wake up at 6 AM to workout or redo your bedroom or get a rhinoplasty or join a gym or get an internship. working towards productivity might be unrealistic right now. but you can work everyday towards becoming the woman you want to be, mentally. you can work on learning to be content, learning to make the best with what you have, learning to appreciate the little things, learning to slow down. these are all qualities that i for one want to have just as much as i want to be attractive or successful. if you can’t enjoy success, what’s the fucking point! life is on pause right now, take this moment as a gift and consider your internal world and what parts of your mind need a makeover. there are horrible things happening in the world right now, do what you can to help, but if you’re safe and healthy then be grateful for the things you can learn from this difficult time. take it slow, but keep moving forward! 

[fizzyhosh]

tagged by @kabeswaters !!!! love u big time

1. on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? .... 3

2. describe yourself in a hashtag? #onedirectionstan

3. if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? gross Harry Styles

4. if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? get ready for disappointment but the good thing is one direction would be to my musical as abba is to mamma mia

5. what’s one thing people don’t know about you? i have strong ambitions but they are outweighed by executive dysfunction so lots of adults like teachers just think I'm lazy 🤪🥴

6. what’s your wake up ritual? currently it's get up at 2pm, look at discord, snapchat, and instagram, then eat some gosh darn food

7. what’s your go to bed ritual? this is so unhealthy I know grab a snack and a soda and scroll mindlessly on social media until I get tired, get up and brush my teeth, go back to my bed and put on my sleep playlist (called sleeby) and set a time so it stops playing after I fall asleep

8. what’s your favorite time of day? despite the fact that I get up in the afternoon, it's actually like 10am that's a goooood time

9. your go to for having a good laugh? I look up Niall Horan laugh complications it genuinely works every time

10. dream country to visit? Germany or Italy

11. what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? my 19th birthday my roommates had a surprise party for me and I was so shocked and almost cried bc it was so sweet and bc made me anxious

12. heels or flats/sneakers? I thought that said heelys :(( but sneakers

13. vintage or new? vintaaaage

14. who do you want to write your obituary? uh idk hopefully none of my current family bc I don't want to die before them cause that'll mean I die young??? this question is making me overthink so I'm just gonna say Ewan Gregor and move on

15. style icon? this chick named mathilda on Instagram you might have seen her on insta or Pinterest she's a redhead but her style is brilliant

16. what are three things you cannot live without? music, dr. pepper, eggos

17. what’s one ingredient you put in everything? I sound so white but SALT I salt the heck outta everything

18. what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? Steve Irwin, Harry Styles, Freddie Mercury

19. what’s your biggest fear in life? dying while I'm taking a shower and having my family find my naked, wet, dead body falling out of love. which makes me not want to fall IN love bc then the chance of falling OUT of love becomes a possibility

20. window or aisle seat? window window window window window

21. what’s your current tv obsession? not really obsessed with anything rn but I rewatch new girl every chance I get

22. favorite app? instagram

23. secret talent? I can wiggle my ears

24. most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? i flew to New Orleans during a break with two of my friends bc they found $60 round trip tickets. We bought the tickets the day before. We literally got to NOLA at 7am and left 8pm the next day. only spontaneous/adventurous thing i have ever done

25. how would you define yourself in three words? funny, understanding, quiet

26. favorite piece of clothing you own? my overalls :'))

27. a must have clothing item that everyone should have? a jean jacket !! looks good on anyone and with anything and they're so cute

28. a superpower you would want? to make people see themselves as their loved ones see them

29. what’s inspiring you in life right now? music I'm fixated on one direction and harry styles and louis tomlinson rn of you cant tell by a lot of my answers

30. best piece of advice you’ve received? don't apologize because you like something. don't be embarrassed that you have preferences

31. best advice you’d give your teenage self? be unapologetically you. life is too short to feel guilty for having opinions.

32. a book everyone should read? me and earl and the dying girl

33. what would you like to be remembered for? being kind to all

34. how do you define beauty? kindness, humor, a sweet soul makes a beautiful person

35. what do you love most about your body? I think I'm proportional? like... my size and shape... I hate how that sounds but my overall body ,,,,,,,

36. best way to take a rest/decompress? crack open and nice cold soda and put on headphones and lay on the ground (it makes me back feel better)

37. favorite place to view art? art galleries the environment and ambiance is immaculate

38. if your life was a song, what would the title be? Everything is Outta Reach cause I fail a lot but also I'm sHORT

39. if you could master one instrument, what would it be? pianoooo

40. if you had a tattoo, where would it be? I want my forearms to be filled with random little doodle tattoos I get over time (picture louis tomlinsons right arm, like the "oops!" and skateboard, and dumb things like that)

41 dolphins or koalas? KOALAS

42. what’s an animal that represents you? .....koala. also chameleon...

43. best gift you’ve ever received? so I need to be hugging a pillow or stuffed animals to sleep and I lost some stuffed animals that I loved and were huge and my go to for hugging at night and that Christmas my brother got me a huge elephant and a body pillow to replace them and I actually cried

44. best gift you’ve given? im really bad at giving gifts but my brother searches everywhere for this book in specific print and language and after years I found one and got it for him for Christmas. he's not good at showing appreciation and excitement but I could tell that he was stoked

45. what’s your favorite board game? BETRAYL AT THE HOUSE ON THE HILL it's so complicated and so good and I love it so much

46. what’s your favorite color? yellow and red

47. least favorite color? o r a n g e I just realized it's between red and yellow make it make sense

48. diamond or pearls? diamonds

49. drugstore makeup or designer? drugstore! I don't wear makeup often enough to spend money on designer but occasionally I get some good stuff from ulta then immediately regret it and go back to my Walgreens makeup HAHA

50. pilates or yoga? yoga

51. coffee or tea? I don't drink either but I like the aesthetic of tea more

52. what’s the weirdest word in the english language? pneumonoultrascopicsiliconvolcanoconoiosos because it's the longest word in the English dictionary and it's has a very specific definition and it's so extra when I was 7 i had a friend who could spell it forwards and backwards

53. dark chocolate or milk chocolate? milk!! I only like dark chocolate if it's reisens

54. stairs or elevators? stairs I'm afraid of elevators

55. summer or winter? summer

56. you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? mac and cheese

57. a dessert you don’t like? uhhhh... umm... uh... anything with tree nuts cause I'm allergic??? I love dessert

58. a skill you’re working on mastering? I'm learning guitar !!

59. best thing to happen to you today? I woke up before 2pm

60. worst thing to happen to you today? my family all decided to a be in a bad mood today so that's super exciting to deal with :))))))

61. best compliment you’ve ever received? that I'm a really good listener

62. favorite smell? candles right after they're blown out and the air outside when it's cold. it has a smell. it DOES.

63. hugs or kisses? hugs

64. if you made a documentary, would it be about? the one direction boys' solo careers and eventual reunion when it happens

65. last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? if that includes music, louis tomlinsons album walls. but if not, ehm the martian that movie makes me cry don't come for me

66. lipstick or lipgloss? lipstick

67. sweet or savory? savory

68. girl crush? lily james

69. how do you know you’re in love? I've been trying to figure that out... I think it's when everything reminds you of them and you can completely be yourself around them and feel a sense of home and belonging.

70. a song you can listen to on repeat? greyhound by calpurnia or baby driver by simon and garfunkel

71. if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? h a r r y s t y l e s I have questions I need answered and I wanna hear unreleased HS and 1D music

72. what are you most excited for/about this time in your life? going back to school so I can be with my best friend slash future boyfriend

tagging: @lupinlongbottom @outerlacy @fortisfiliae @theseuscmander @wizardwritings

[mysamcedesmadness]

So, You Got Yourself a Little Girlfriend

Like most of these chapters, this one just kinda came to me/flowed out. This is the fourth installment of something I figured would be a one shot. Lol. Hope you enjoy.

Henry woke up pretty early, That wasn’t usually the case. Usually, he had to drag himself out of bed, sneak coffee, because his mom (with all of her bad habits had the audacity to police his). And morning coffee was definitely one. But, today, he was surprisingly energetic. He had a SICK dream about Charlotte last night, and that dress, and what shoulda, coulda, woulda happened if he had her all alone at a picnic. He blushed and reached for his phone to check the time, wondering just how early he had gotten up. Only 30 minutes before his usual time. Not too bad... But, he had a couple of texts from Charlotte. He immediately perked up and checked them.

One of them was from the previous night, so he was unsure of how he missed it. But, then again, he’d spent some quality time in the shower and he hadn’t been sleeping very well prior to last night, so he crashed pretty much right afterwards.

That one read: Hey, are we gonna be the type to wish each other good night? I forgot to bring that up as a discussion topic. In fact, now that I’ve brought it up, what about good mornings? You know what? - I’ll just open a sharable document and send you the link, because some other questions weren’t asked too, now that I’m thinking about it. 

He giggled and caught himself, and looked around, relieved that nobody was there to hear that.

The next one was 30 minutes before: Wishing you a good morning! Here’s the document link. 

Now, he flat out laughed. She was so... efficient all of the time. He wasn’t about to read whatever that document was. They could talk when they walked to school. Shucks! School! He had to make himself a little more presentable today! Did he have cologne in here somewhere? He had to get more, he was pretty sure. He might try something new out. But, for today... Dang... He went pushing through his closet. Why do I have so many plaid shirts? Was there an 8 year sale? Those and raglan shirts were literally all that were in this ding dang closet.

Henry wiped a hand down his face and found one of his raglan tees. At least they hugged his body. Charlotte liked his body, right? He had no idea what she was physically attracted to! All these years and he couldn't remember one crush, not even a celebrity one, besides Captain Man and she totally got over that quickly after meeting Ray.. and Ray was alright back then. Sometimes, Henry could swear the guy was losing his marbles. Why was he thinking about Ray??? Which reminded him - he owed him a piece of his mind for that camera stunt…

Henry washed up, got dressed, brushed his teeth, skipping breakfast and coffee and played with his hair for like 20 minutes before he heard Piper yell, "Henry! Let's go, or we're leaving you!" We're? His heart rate accelerated. Was we're including Charlotte? Was she here already? Because, he wasn't ready yet! 

He grabbed his backpack and ran to the stairs, stopped and froze when he saw her and Jasper laughing and talking by the door. He took a deep breath and reminded himself, “It's just Char." Then, he ran down the stairs. "Mornin' peeps!"

Jasper immediately began chatting him up about a new fish buffet that Charlotte had already turned down. She and Henry made eye contact and she glanced over him and fought a pleased smile. "Mornin' Hen. I texted you. Guess you were busy working on that hair, huh?" She teased.

He blushed and nodded, "That's literally what happened."

Jasper called out, "Hello???"

Charlotte answered, "Jasper, nobody wants to eat buffet fish!"

Henry followed up with, "Yeah dude, that sounds nasty. Buffet food sits on those warmers for God knows how long. I'm surprised nobody's gotten sick."

Charlotte added, "They have! And it's only been open for two weeks!"

Henry cringed then reached for her hand as Jasper grabbed the door, not noticing and complaining, "I swear, you two have no sense of adventure." He walked ahead to the car with Piper as Henry locked up and when they were sort of alone, he kissed her.

"That's all I've thought about since last night," he confessed and they parted and headed for the car. Jasper nor Piper had seen that.

"Guess that answers question 6," Charlotte said. Henry tilted his head, "You didn't read the document."

"I thought we'd have time to go over it on the walk to school. Gimme the Cliff notes."

"It's not a report. It's questions," she said as he opened her door and helped her inside. "Just open it. You can add the answers.."

"Henry, what are you doing?" Piper wondered, looking at him weird. “Get in the back. Charlotte's up front." Jasper was watching this, now. Henry jumped into the backseat and Jasper smirked. "What were you going to do? Sit on her lap?" Piper wondered.

"Yes, Henry, what were your intentions for Charlotte's seat?" Henry slapped him on the chest and he gasped and held himself. "Ouch! You know I have sensitive nipples!"

"Say anything remotely like that again and you're walking," Piper said.

.

Whenever they got to school, Charlotte wasn't acting any differently. Henry was. Well, he felt different, at least. He felt like the earth had moved under his feet and wasn't sure if she felt that too. She went to her locker and he let her, not wanting to seem clingy, but then again… he usually went to her locker, so he should probably go. Because there was nothing in his locker that he needed at the moment. "Henry, what are you doing?" She wondered, slightly chuckling.

"I think I'm maybe overthinking!" He said, nervously.

"My God! Does it hurt?" She teased. He pouted, but noticed her smile and quickly matched it. "Dude, just be yourself. That's obviously who I like."

"Just be myself, Miss Goodnight/Good Morning texts?" He taunted back.

"Well, you never replied, so that's cancelled."

"Wait, what? Really?" He panicked. Has he already made a bonehead boyfriend move? She fought a smile. "When did you become this playful?" He wondered.

"Maybe your playfulness is contagious. Maybe you transmitted it in that sneak kiss this morning."

"I'm gonna transmit a whole lot more than that." She stopped smiling and looked concerned. "Wait. That came out wrong. I meant.. I'm gonna be kissing you.. like a lot, so… more where that came from…"

"My class," she said, eyeing him weirdly. "Henry… you look great today, by the way." He blushed. "Whatever you did this morning paid off." She glanced around, quickly gave him a kiss on the cheek and went into class. He just stood there, looking good, grinning and waving.

"Henry Hart, have you no class?" Ms. Shapen asked, passing by.

"Okay. That's very oddly worded. I'm on my way to class." He pointed his thumb in a direction and went that way. Where's he going? Charlotte wondered. His class was the other way… And there he goes. Henry finger gunned in the right direction of his class as he passed by again and Charlotte was the one giggling now.

.

At lunch, Henry laid on Charlotte's shoulder - something he sometimes did when he was sad, so Jasper asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said.

"Why are you nurture surfing Char's shoulder?" Charlotte was chewing, but turned her head to look at Henry's face to see what he'd say about this, since they said that they weren't making any announcements, but weren't necessarily hiding it.

"Charlotte's my girl," Henry said and squeezed her side.

Jasper's eyes widened and he asked, "After just one date?"

"I'm a good kisser," Henry said, shrugging.

Charlotte laughed and covered her mouth so she wouldn't spill, then added, "It's true though." Henry smiled, rubbed her side, where he'd previously squeezed, and sat up. "Did you make it to class on time?" She wondered. He nodded, then the conversation went as normal as usual. Jasper didn't even bring up their status again.

Oh, but after school…

The first thing Henry did was step off of the elevator and confront Ray about the camera. "Dude, you and Schwoz put Charlotte in that dress, AND you tried to watch our date on a spycam?"

"You're welcome," Ray said.

"I'm not welcome. She almost got hurt!"

"That's why you're welcome. I helped you save her!"

"You put me IN the situation with that stupid dress!" Charlotte fussed and Henry nodded, folding his arms.

Ray clasped his hands together and said, "Charlotte, unpack that thinking. What a woman wears is no excuse for what those guys did."

Henry nearly exploded, "Are you serious? She KNOWS that. The point was you were wrong, Man!"

Ray nodded, "I can see how the two of you feel that way." To Henry, he whispered, "But you liked the dress, didn't you?"

Henry angrily whispered back, "I loved it!"

"Besides the point!" Charlotte fussed from the panel, as she took her seat.

Ray called out, "Sorry, Charlotte!" She rolled her eyes. He pulled Henry aside a little.

"Why are you touching me?"

"Shh. She hears really well."

"She's got perfect hearing, perfect vision and perfect teeth," Henry bragged without thinking.

"Shh. How did it go?" Ray asked. "Make a fool of yourself? Did SHE? She step on your toes dancing? Did she shoot her drink out of her nose fake laughing at one of your terrible jokes?"

"What? No. Why would any of that happen? And why would I tell you about it in excitement, if it did?"

"So we could laugh at Charlotte for being bad at dating, why else?"

Henry fake laughed then announced, "Yeah, I'm leaving this conversation." He went over to Charlotte as she was turning dials and wondered, "Is Ray looking over here and being suspicious?" She glanced at Ray doing exactly that and nodded. "He's trying to find out about us and masking it in his anti-Charlotte rhetoric."

"I have no idea why that man dislikes me so much."

"I think it's just your season. Couldn't be Jasper forever." She frowned.

“Awww, cheer up, Char. It can’t be you forever, either.”

“You know, he could just be a man and deal with his unhealthy habits instead of inflicting them upon the kids in his life.”

“Could he? That seems pretty evolved and he’s not really… that way.” She rolled her eyes and Henry gave her a hug. “You always smell really nice.”

“I have this thing called soap. I mix it with a little water, apply reasonably and rinse. Works like a gem,” she said, pulling away from this hug that lasted longer than necessary for her. “You seem to have some of that too.”

“Yeah, I like to pair mine with some strong acting, softly scented deodorant. You know, keep things fresh. Also getting ready to add a dash of cologne to the team.”

“Ooh, cologne’s being added to TeamSmellGood? I hope you pick something musky.”

He gave her a big smile and said, “I sure will, now.” Then, he reflexively kissed her on the lips. Her eyes widened, because HELLO - they were on the clock, in front of others, and basically, nothing about this situation was the plan! He flinched and covered his nose and mouth with his hands. “I swear, Char, I didn’t intend to do that…”

“AHA!!!” Ray yelled, rushing over. “I knew it. I knew that the date went well. You got yourself a little girlfriend now, and suddenly you’re too self-righteous to laugh about Charlotte’s social failures.”

“I have the least amount of social failures in this entire building,” Charlotte said. Ray ignored it.

“You two should have disclosed the information to management.”

“For… professionalism? Because, in this very room, I’ve been almost killed at least a dozen times by one of your tantrums,” Charlotte complained, returning her attention to the screens.

Henry interrupted, “Ray, there’s nothing to disclose…” Charlotte threw him a look. “I meant it's none of his business.” She nodded once and got back to work. “I’d have told you, if you hadn’t nearly got her assaulted last night just so you could spy and possibly laugh at what you thought was going to be embarrassing for her. Honestly, I’m still kinda sensitive about that, so I don’t plan on telling you anything.”

“Just tell me this… Do you officially have a girlfriend now, because when you do, you’re kinda annoying, and I just wanna know what flavor of whine you’ll give me at down times on missions.”

“I vote on telling him nothing,” Charlotte said.

“I’m not telling him nothing.”

“Good job.” Henry leaned against the panel and started talking to Charlotte about her notes for a certain class. She was complaining that he spent the class on his phone and should have been taking notes himself. He refuted that he was trying to answer her questions in the document, to which she pointed out that such things will not be deemed reasonable excuses for slacking off and wanting her to bail him out in class…

“Wait… Wait! Are you two creating a couple bubble? Because couple bubbles are restricted in the Man Cave!”

“We’re literally talking about school,” Henry said.

“There was some coding in there, though. I don’t know what, but some of that was couple bubbling, and I will not stand for it!”

“Then go have a seat,” Charlotte suggested.

Ray scoffed and looked at Henry, “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?”

Henry shrugged, “My girl does what she wants.” Charlotte nodded her head.

“Your ‘girl’.... I KNEW IT!”

“Yes, of course you did. It was obvious. You just wanted me to say it to hear me say it. You saw me kiss her on the lips.”

“I’ve seen you kiss tons of people on the lips, half of them you’d never seen before. That proves nothing!”

Henry laughed nervously, scoffed several times, and told Charlotte, “Not tons. That’s definitely hyperbole.”

She shrugged. “I don’t care about who you kissed before me.” He sighed with relief. “But, you’d better never try that again.” She threw him a look to let him know she meant business and he received that message.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Within moments, there was an alert for a call, and once again… everything around them went back to normal.

[let-it-raines]

Second in Command (Ch. 19)

Second in Command: Life as the “spare to the heir” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be when you’re the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don’t know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

Found on AO3 | here |

Tumblr Chapters:| 1 | | 2 | | 3 | | 4 | | 5 | | 6 | | 7 | | 8 | | 9 | | 10 | | 11| | 12 | | 13 | | 14 | | 15 | | 16 | | 17 | | 18 | | 19 | 

A/N: I almost hate to post this because we’re *this* close to the end (the way I write the epilogue is still undecided), and I don’t want it to end! Thank you guys as always for being so awesome! 

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke@kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @profdanglaisstuff @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook@skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma@alys07 @andiirivera

“Because,” she smiles, and even if he feels like shit right now, he smiles back just because that smile of hers is so damn beautiful, “you, my love, are their uncle. And the amount of love that I know you have in your heart,” she rests her palm over his chest, and he knows she can feel his heart beating, “is just absolutely insane. So even if, God forbid, this child isn’t shown the love they deserve by their parents, they’ll have you, and that will make all the difference in the world.”

“I love you.” He just – he can’t believe that he stumbled into a life where this woman is his, and he loves her so damn much that he can’t not say it. He can’t not tell her at every opportunity he has.

“I love you,” he repeats kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw, her ear, her neck, her shoulder, her lips, any place he can get his lips in contact with, whispering an I love you against the skin of every place his lips touch.

“I love you, too,” she finally replies once he gives her some reprieve, lips swollen and chest flushed red. “Will you come to bed with me tonight?”

“Always.”

She takes his hand and leads him from the barstools to the staircase that leads to her apartment. Most of the lights are turned off, but the hallway’s overhead lamp casts a soft yellow shadow over the darkened apartment. He can hear the telltale box fan that David and Mary Margaret sleep with, and he smiles at the familiarity of it all, the normalcy. He could likely map this apartment with his eyes closed, knowing all of the inches of the hardwood, the places where the wood groans under his weight from Emma’s bedroom on his path to the bathroom in the middle of the night. This place…this place is his home, but to the outside world, he’s never existed between these walls. He’s never stepped foot here according to most, but his entire world resides here. His entire world resides here, and she’s guiding him into her room with practiced, familiar hands that grasp onto his.

They don’t really speak the entire time that he slips out of his clothes and into some of the sleeping clothes that he keeps here. Half of her closet is filled with his things, and it makes him smile as he folds the shirt he was wearing and places it on the top shelf with his jeans. He longs for the day when his home is filled with her things, their things, but his relationship with his family has never been worse than it is right now. It’s complicated in every sense of the word, and he’s got no clue how they’re going to tell his family about the two of them when the time is right.

Is the time ever going to be right?

Is there ever going to be an outcome that doesn’t end in disaster, in losing the woman he cares for more than anything?

He’s terrified of losing her, of losing Emma. She’s the best thing in his life, the woman who has convinced him that he’s worth loving and that family isn’t all bad, that all the small pieces of good that he sees in his might actually be able to bloom into something more. She, despite all of the things she’s been through in life, sees the good in the world, in him, when he sometimes only sees the darkness. So as for right now, they’ll go on as they have been for nearly five years, and things between them will stay good and stay happy.

He might be a coward for not telling his family, or it very well may be the bravest thing he’s ever done by loving someone who he was never supposed to love. Of course, he knows that he was actually supposed to love her. He’s not sure if he believes in fate, but something led him here five years ago. And something keeps bringing him back.

“You’re overthinking, babe,” Emma accuses as she settles down onto her bed, shifting under the covers and sitting up against the headboard until she gets into a comfortable position.

“I would argue, but I know there’s no point in lying to you.”

“Just come to bed, Killian,” she encourages, soft smile on her face that he can barely make out over the darkness of the room, the only light coming from her open blinds and the streetlamps outside, but her smile still makes the vicious storm in his mind settle into a light rain. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

He sighs before crawling into bed with her, sliding his body under the covers and burying his face in the pillow he’s come to know as his as Emma’s fingers move over his bare back, her nails lightly digging into his skin while she draws indiscernible patterns over his back. It feels fantastic, small tingles running down his spine the longer she does it, and when she starts pressing kisses against each of his vertebrae, he thinks he might fall asleep at how soothing all of her touches are. How soothing they always are.

How can one person calm him so?

“Your shoulders are still tense. Have you been this stressed out all day?”

“Yes.” “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.” Her fingers stop their movements momentarily before starting up again, this time a little more forceful, pressing into him and working out the stresses a carries in his body. “You’re never bothering me, Killian. If you need to talk, I’m here without question. Without fail. You know that.”

He does know that, but sometimes he doesn’t want to share his burdens with Emma. He doesn’t wish to weigh her down with them, but he knows that’s unhealthy. They share with each other, and they work through things together. But stubbornness often prevails until it doesn’t, either he or Emma pulling the other out of their solitude.

“Aye, but I wanted time to myself. I felt ridiculous being so upset over my sister-in-law telling me she’s pregnant. I love Abigail. I should be thrilled. Why am I not thrilled? What kind of asshole does that make me?”

Probably the worst of the worst. What kind of man isn’t happy for his family?

“It doesn’t make you one. You’ve got a complicated relationship with your family. Most people have complicated relationships with their family. It’s never all sunshine and roses for everyone, even my small family, and you’re doing the best you can under the circumstances.”

He sighs into the pillow, and while Emma doesn’t solve his problems tonight, she makes him feel better about them, makes him understand that few things are ever as bad as they seem. “You know I love you, right?”

“You may have mentioned it a few times today.”

He turns his head to look at her, her face half in the light and half in the darkness so that one emerald eye shines brightly. “You’re cheeky.”

“I know I am. And I love you, too by the way. I thought you should know that. So you want to hear a story?”

“A story?”

What the hell is she talking about? Why does she want to tell him a story?

“Yeah, you know, like ‘once upon a time’ and all that? I know you know what a story is, babe. You’re university educated after all.”

“Obviously,” he chuckles, reaching his hand up to cup her face, feeling her soft skin under his touch, “but I don’t understand why you want to tell one.”

“Because I’m not ready to go to bed, and I think you need something to cheer you up.”

He smiles, and something settles in his heart, something he’s known for a long time but is continuously reaffirmed. She’s it for him. There will never be anyone else but her, and no matter what happens with his family, he’ll always have Emma just as she will always have him. He doesn’t know what will happen with his family when they do eventually tell them, but he knows what will happen with he and Emma.

“Alright, darling, tell me a story.”

She slides down the bed and turns on her side so that her nose is brushing against his and her hand is resting on his shoulder, fingers dancing across his skin.

“So once upon a time,” she begins, smiling at him so brightly that he can practically feel it in his bones, and he moves his right hand from her cheek to hold onto her waist, feeling the soft curve there, “there was a man and a woman – ”

“I like this story already.”

“Shush. I’m trying to tell a really riveting tale. I think it’s like a fairytale, but it’s better because it’s real.”

He squeezes her waist, and she scrunches her face up so that all of her features are contorted, making her look like some kind of Emma-adjacent blob. “I shall listen with rapt attention, my love.”

“You’re sweet,” she gushes before reaching up to kiss his nose. “So as I was saying, there was a man and a woman, and the man crashes into the woman’s home unannounced and the tiniest bit unwelcome, his clothes wet from the rain. They don’t hit it off right away, but it’s funny how things change…”

“Hey, so what are we getting your dad for his birthday?”

“His birthday?”

“Babe, his birthday is in two weeks. There’s a dinner and everything at Windsor. How do I know this and you don’t?”

“It slipped my mind, I guess.”

“Okay, well, we have to get him something. He’s been really into maps lately. I don’t really get it but whatever. So I was thinking we could get him, like, those old-timey maps of the areas around all of the palaces and have them framed. I found some online that can be here in five days. Come look.”

He walks from the kitchen counter where he was making himself a cup of coffee to stand behind where she’s seated at the table, propping his chin on the top of her head and peering down at the computer screen. She’s got several tabs pulled up with the maps and the corresponding frames that they can have matted to the maps to give to his dad at the birthday party that is apparently upcoming.

“See,” she points to the frames, “the dark mahogany will match your dad’s study at Windsor, and since I know that’s his more informal room, I think these would work there.”

He places his coffee on the table before cupping her head and pulling it back so that he can lean over her and kiss her, the taste of toothpaste on her lips not mixing in well with his coffee, but it could be worse.

“Did you just Spider-man kiss me?”

“What?”

“The Spiderman kiss? You know, the iconic one where they’re upside down and in the rain? Did you just try that?”

“Not on purpose. I was going to kiss your forehead, but I moved down at the last minute.” He reaches up to scratch behind his ear, and how does he still get nervous around this woman? “Did it, uh, did it work?”

She shrugs, and he moves to sit at the edge of the table so that he can look at her, picking up his coffee and taking another sip.

“I think we’ve got some work to do before we’re Peter Parker and Mary Jane, but I like your spunk, kid.”

He laughs into his mug, the way Emma had changed her accent to mimic accents used in movies decades ago brings joy to his face so that lines crease around his eyes, and she’s in such a good mood this morning that he really hates that they won’t be spending the day together. He’d like to do something relaxing like going for a walk in the gardens and spending the day lounging around in the pleasant May weather, the sun beating down on their skin. Or maybe spend the day in bed like they’d spent their morning. Alas, he has events today while Emma has more dress fittings before joining him at a dinner tonight.

“I like your idea for my dad’s birthday present. That’s brilliant, love. I don’t know how I forgot.”

“It’s on both of our calendars, but that’s why you’ve got me.” She pats his leg before going back to look at the laptop screen. “And then you can pay back for this when I forget my mom’s birthday.”

Their two weeks pass in last minute wedding planning, confirming all of the details that still need to be finalized, and as he and Emma drive to Windsor for his dad’s birthday party, his father’s framed maps wrapped in the trunk of his car, he’s reminded of his dad’s birthday last year. That was when this whole thing started, when his brother saw his texts to Emma and the two of them had been exposed to his family. It was like his world was ending, everything crashing down around him, but now he’s riding with the woman who will be his wife in nine days to the very event that was the catalyst to the two of them being able to be here today. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, the woman who he loves by his side and a family who he loves accepting him, loving him, and loving Emma for who she is, flaws and cracked history included. It’s been the most insane year of his life, and while he’d love to change a lot of things, it doesn’t matter.

They’re here now.

His father’s seventy-first birthday is a much more casual affair than his father’s seventieth birthday last year, but everyone will still be dressed in tuxes and gowns that glisten under the chandeliers. There had been hordes of photographers waiting outside the gates as they drove in, and while the bright flashes in the darkness of the night were jarring, it’s nothing he’s not used to at this point. Once he and Emma gave them a wave through the cars, their security behind them, they waned off until the two of them could safely get through the gates.

When they walk through the halls of Windsor, both of their hands full with the gifts, Emma’s heels clacking along the tile floor, he smiles thinking of them walking through these same halls when they’re married in the next few days. He knows those days will drag along excruciatingly slowly, but the simple anticipation of life after this wedding is causing him to be flush with excitement, his entire body buzzing. This day has been a long time coming, and it hasn’t simply been since they were engaged. It’s been since long before that, years even, and it’s now nearly a week away.

They sit down to dinner in the ballroom they’re not using for the wedding, as it’s being renovated and decorated, all of his immediate family surrounding him at the head table while cousins, both close and distant, and other guests fan out at the other tables. He knows that he’ll have to make the rounds with everyone later, thank them for coming today and staying for the wedding, but right now he can simply enjoy spending time with his family, something that never would have happened last year.

“So, dad,” Killian starts while they’re in between courses, “where are you going for your birthday this year? Still Balmoral after the public celebration at the end of June?”

“Killian, when have we ever changed it up?”

“Never,” he laughs, “but it’s been awhile since I’ve actually gone with you.”

“That’s because you were sneaking off to see Emma,” his mother chimes in, and when he turns to Emma, she simply shrugs. Blush still rises to her cheeks under her makeup, though, and it’s true. He would skip out on family vacations to spend time with her. Sitting in a small bedroom above a pub seemed more appealing than the sprawling estate of Balmoral. It still does, if he’s honest, but he does miss that place. They’d had some fun times there when he was a child, and he’d like to go back. Maybe he and Emma will later this summer when everyone else is spending their summer months there.

“To be fair,” Emma placates, raising her hands in the air like she’s been pulled over by the police, “I never asked him to skip out on family vacations.”

“Bullocks,” everyone chimes in at once before breaking out into laughter, and this may be the most in sync his family has ever been.

“If I’d been dating a lass in secret, I sure as hell would have skipped out on family functions.” Liam smiles until Abigail gently slaps his arm.

“You better not be dating a lass in secret.”

“It was only a joke, darling.”

Emma leans over to whisper in his ear, and her perfume intoxicates him. It’s been driving him crazy all night, and it doesn’t help the way his stomach has been hurting from laughter. “You see what we have to look forward to when we’re married.”

He laughs before he turns and kisses her cheek. “We’re already like that. You and Abigail are cut from the same cloth.”

“And it’s a bloody good cloth,” Abigail protests, and when he turns his head, his entire family is looking at he and Emma. “It’s cute that the two of you don’t think we can all hear you.”

“We know that you can hear us,” Emma chuckles, moving her hair to the right side so that her shoulders are bared, and she is just stunning tonight, the light blue of her dress bringing out the slight blueness in her eyes. “You’re just lucky we didn’t say anything more about the two of you.”

“We could say plenty about the two of you as well, Mr. and Mrs. ‘We Don’t Need Stag and Hen Parties.’”

“Technically, that was all Killian.”

His face recoils into his neck as he looks over at Emma with parted lips. “You said you were fine with that.”

She reaches over to pat his leg, a soft smile on her face. “I am. The weekend we had in the country was perfect. It was just a joke, babe.”

“See,” Liam laughs, pointing at the two of them across the table like a child, “you are exactly like us already.”

The rest of the dinner goes along the same way, all of them teasing each other and laughing during the meal, especially during the speeches that he and Liam give about their father. Well, it was one speech, and they worked together on it, something they had never done before unless it was a special event where their speeches were written for them. It’s still a bit odd working with his brother, getting along with him, but three hundred and sixty-five days can change your entire world.

While everyone is moving about the room chatting with all of the other guests, he grabs onto Emma’s wrist and discreetly pulls her out of the ballroom when she’s in between guests.

“W-what are you doing?” she laughs as he gets her into the hallways, the short train of her gown moving just behind her.

“Do you want to go sit in the Chapel?”

“What?”

“Do you want to go sit in the Chapel? Just you and me? It’ll be the only time we’ll ever get in there with just us.”

“What about your dad’s birthday?”

“No one will notice we’re gone. We’ve been there for two hours.”

She seems to think about it for a minute, moving her head from side to side in the way that she does while weighing the pros and cons of things. And then she smiles, and he knows that he’s won her over.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He leads her through all of the hallways, her arm wrapped around his the entire way until she releases him as they’re walking in the back door of St. George’s Chapel and standing on the black and white checkered tile floor, every movement that they make echoing throughout the hall, bouncing off of the walls until it disappears into the darkness.

“How did you know it would be unlocked?”

He shrugs before he smirks and happiness blooms in his chest. That’s happening a lot lately. “I may have asked for the side door to be unlocked so we could do this.”

Emma saunters toward him, her heels hitting against the floor even louder in here than in the halls of the castle, and wraps her arms around his neck, a bright smile on her face that reflects the one gracing his own. “So you planned this ahead of time?”

“I did.”

“You’re quite the romantic soul, you know that?”

“I do.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say those words in here yet. We might accidentally be married, and think of the scandal.”

He laughs before resting his forehead against her and slanting his lips over hers, the both of them smiling into the kiss as her tongue teases at him before he pulls back. “Think of the scandal if they knew we kissed within these walls.”

Their lips barely leave each other as Emma’s eyes flutter open, her eyelashes hitting his cheeks, a slight tingling sensation lingering there. “Such rebels are we.”

“Why are you talking like Yoda?”

“You’re romantic. I bring pop culture into our romantic moments and ruin them. That’s how we roll, babe.”

“You don’t ruin anything.”

“May you always think that.”

He chuckles before kissing her again, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her as close as he possibly can so that their bodies are pressed together in an intimate embrace that the walls of this Chapel have likely never seen. When they pull back from each other, he guides Emma around, showing her the different sections of the Chapel and telling her a bit of the history behind it that has been ingrained in his mind over the years. She’s been here several times before for wedding purposes, and she’ll be here again several times next weekend, but it’s never been just the two of them. So they have their own little history lesson, Emma’s hands tracing along different parts of the architecture as he speaks, until they’re back at the side door ready to leave, the great halls at their back.

He holds out his arm for her until she slides her arm in to hook with his before he asks, “are you ready, darling?”

“I’m ready.”

The sound of rain beats against the roof of the apartment, like a constant beating of a drum being pounded against the barriers that surround him and drown out all of the other sounds that may be going on outside. It’s not heavy, more of a pitter-patter of fat droplets hitting against the glass of the windows shown by the open curtains of their bedroom, but it’s constant enough to fill his ears and wake him from sleep before the sun has even risen. Maybe it won’t rise because of the darkness of the clouds coating the shadows of the sky and the water coating the ground, but as of now, there’s still a solid hour before any light would even possibly break through the sky and shine down to earth.

This most definitely wasn’t in the weather forecast. He’s been watching the weather channel almost religiously, he and Emma usually falling asleep with tomorrow’s forecast flashing up on the screen, greens and blues fading into black as sleep consumes them and takes them away from the waking world. Hopefully the downfall of water will stop before Emma wakes up so that she doesn’t have any extra worries for tomorrow. It matters not how often they’ve prepped for what happens if rain falls tomorrow because he’ll still worry regardless. But they’ve always held out some kind of hope that the weather would stay nice for just these two days, and they’ll continue to hope for that. Often random showers torment England before the sun shines for the rest of the day, but it’s also just as likely that one summer storm indicates days of inclement weather. It won’t be the end of the world, but it’d be nice for the sun to shine down on them.

Killian carefully moves Emma’s hands off of his stomach before quietly crawling out of bed and closing all of the curtains in the room so that he cannot see the water droplets racing down the window before crawling back into bed as slowly as possible. Emma’s a deep sleeper, but she usually notices when he moves around too much. He thinks he’s made it, pulling the comforter back up his body as she breathes in soft puffs of air, but just as he sighs in relief and twists his body to adjust his pillow, her eyes pop open like she’s been shocked, green eyes almost electric.

He reaches up to stroke her face, moving her hair back behind her ear and trying to silently urge her to fall back asleep in the early hours of this morning. They both need their sleep for their next few days, and it just won’t do for them to be any more tired than they already are. “Go back to sleep, love.”

She mumbles something under her breath before crawling back over to him and wrapping her arms back around his waist and nestling her head back into the crook of his neck while he rubs her back to try to soothe the both of them into slumber. He loves little moments like this with her, just the two of them and the rest of the world blacked out. They don’t even have to be talking to each other. The companionable silence is perfectly fine as he feels their closeness with the way they breathe together. He’s wanted to marry her for years, but he’s only known that he gets to marry her for a little under half of a year and it almost doesn’t seem real to him that this is the last time they’ll sleep together before they’re husband and wife. He doesn’t think much will change, not with the way they’ve lived their lives and how committed they are to each other, but he knows that the both of them are excited for their commitment to each other to be official.

He’s just about to fall back asleep, already halfway pulled into the beginnings of his sleep cycle, when Emma suddenly sits up, her hands pushing against his chest until she harshly flops back down onto him, her elbows hitting him right in what he thinks is his spleen before she rolls off of him and onto the bed. Bloody violent woman.

“Is that rain?”

“No.”

“You’re a liar.” She moves against his chest again, and damn she’s bony today. “It’s rain. That was not in the forecast.”

“I know, darling,” he maneuvers himself until she’s not elbowing him anymore and starts rubbing her back again, “but it’s not too heavy. I think we should really try to go back to sleep. It’s still early.”

“I don’t think I can go back to sleep.”

She doesn’t sound worried necessarily, but her voice is already more alert than it usually is when she’s up this early in the morning. She’s been up this early a lot lately with all of their obligations, and he cannot wait until they’re in Italy next week so that the two of them can sleep in with absolutely no distractions.

“Because of the rain?”

“No. Because we have a lot to do today, and my mind is already running all over the place.”

“I think we need to live in this quiet moment. It’s going to be the last one we get for awhile.”

“But.”

“Emma.”

“Killian.”

He pulls her back on top of him so that her lips are a hairsbreadth away from his, and while they should really go back to sleep, this new idea he is forming now is a good idea, too. It’s always a good idea.

“Enjoy the quiet moments, love.”

He captures her lips with his, using his hand to tilt her head to the side to get more access to her mouth while her hands trail up into his hair, causing small shivers to go through him with the feelings of her pulling his hair and scratching at his scalp while his own hands begin to snake down her body. He loves her curves, the way she’s toned with muscles but still soft as his hand traces the dip of her waist and travels down to her hip, curving again to the underside of her firm ass and maneuvering enough to give it an equally firm squeeze before he works to flip her over so that she’s on her back, her grunt transforming into a laugh when the flip doesn’t turn out as smooth as he was planning on it being.

She whimpers, and the sound goes straight through him, all of his blood rushing to his groin along with all of the heat in his body. He’s barely even touched her yet, and he’s almost reared and ready to go.

But she’s not, even with the little sounds she’s making, so he releases her lips, a loud, wet smack echoing throughout the room and standing out against their background music of the rain, before inching her shirt slowly up her body, making sure that his fingers trail against the skin, nails digging into her and leaving the faintest of marks on her stomach. When the material is above her breasts, which are now gloriously bare to him, he stops to dip his head down and suck at her nipples, feeling them harden in his mouth as he alternates between the two of them, her little noises and encouraging words urging him to continue on.

“D- don’t.”

Or maybe not.

“Don’t what, love?”

“Don’t leave a…a mark. You can’t leave a mark anywhere.”

“Aye, I know. I won’t. I’m just appreciating the gloriousness of your body, my love.”

“You have such a way with words when your mouth should be occupied.”

He pops his head up that, his right eyebrow going with it, and while Emma’s never been much of a talker during their love making, not like he is and definitely not as often, he does quite enjoy when she gives him little, feisty encouragements and teasings like that.

“You got something in mind?”

She hums, closing her eyes as a serene smile pops onto her face like whatever is she’s thinking of will cause that look of contentment, and he’s physically aching to give that to her.

“I do.”

She presses her hands against his chest and attempts to push him off of her only for him to grind his hips into hers and press more of his weight over her, causing her to laugh into his shoulder the more pressure he puts on her. He’s teasing her, and they both know it.

“You’re being an asshole.

He laughs against her forehead before moving down her body so that he can kiss her again, his mouth exploring the well-known treasures of Emma that he would and will discover again and again and again no matter how many times he’s discovered them before, mapping the lines of her body with his tongue as she’s done the same with him.

“So still an asshole, huh?”

“Yep,” she pops the p at the end before bucking her hips up into his, and damn that little bit of friction feels good, the sensation causing him to hiss a bit. He needs to be inside of her. He needs her. “But an asshole who needs to undress so I can fuck him.”

“So eloquent, darling.”

She laughs before she pushes at him again, and this time he allows her to move him off of her, flopping down onto the mattress and staring up at Emma as she scrambles the rest of the way out of her shirt and strips off her shorts all while he watches her, every droplet of his blood rushing below his waist. She is the most glorious woman alive, and he’s not sure that he’ll ever get used to being with her.

He kind of hopes that he doesn’t.

She simply hums in response to his words before she crawls on top of him, her knees on either side of his waist while she presses her slick core against the bare skin right above his boxers. He’s distracted by that while she presses her lips against his chest, running her tongue against his nipples, and oh damn she’s going to kill him like this, isn’t she?

“You know you’re the one who’s always been better with words, but I like to think that I do okay.”

And then she’s moving down his body, tracing the lines of his body with her lips and her tongue until she hooks her fingers into his boxers and he lifts her his hips to help her pull them down, his cock bobbing against his stomach when she gets his briefs all the way down and tosses them onto the floor at the foot of his bed. He’s reaching down to pull her up for a kiss, but before his hands can reach her, she’s taking him in hand and wrapping her lips around his length and bobbing her head up and down, the wetness of her mouth devouring him.

“Fuck,” he hisses when she lifts her head and swirls her tongue around his tip, his entire body humming in appreciation as she builds him higher and higher with her mouth and her hand, his length somehow hardening the longer she works at him. “Emma, darling, I – uh, fuck, love. You gotta…I’m going to…Emma please.”

She releases him, her saliva dripping down him, and the vixen smirks at him, a wicked smile curving on her face as she moves to capture his lips in a searing kiss, their tongues tangling together in a slick, wet slide while his hands tangle into her hair.

“Not so eloquent with your words are you now?”

He laughs against her lips before kissing her again, his hands gliding along her hair until he can cup her cheeks, moving the pads of his thumbs under her eyes until she pulls back from him, the irises of her eyes only the slightest bit green under the blackness of desire. Suddenly the heat of the moment disappears as he looks at her, studies her really, yet again memorizing the way the freckles brush over her nose and how she’s got the slightest bit of mascara smudged just below her quirked eyebrows.

“What?” she questions, her voice lilting with the question.

He moves to press her loose hair behind her ear with his right hand while his left palm still cups her cheek, thumb still moving over the skin. “Nothing. Just thinking about how much I love you.”

She smiles before pressing her forehead against his, the warmth of her skin invading him as her nose brushes back and forth against his and her own hands cup the back his head, fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck making him feel like he’s in some kind of euphoric bliss even when they haven’t joined together yet.

“I love you, Killian. I know we were teasing each other about how eloquent we can be or whatever, but I really can’t express how much. I know that’s cheesy or whatever and I – ”

He captures her lips again, sucking on her bottom lip again before releasing her, her lips kiss swollen with slightly burned by his scruff.

“I’m good with cheesy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like it, and sometimes cheesy isn’t a bad thing, you know?”

“I do.”

Eventually she moves down his body, settling over his hips and guiding his length into her heat while he holds onto her hips, sinking down onto him and incasing him in the slickness of her walls while they both sigh and groan into the pleasure of it. Emma moves above him, her breasts bouncing as she uses her muscles to lift herself up and down, her nails digging into his chest until she gets into a rhythm she obviously enjoys, her head thrown back in pleasure as the pace of her breathing increases while his does the same.

“So good, sweetheart,” he groans when her hips continue to swivel as he begins to match her movements with his own thrusts. “So tight and warm around me, like you were made for me.”

She whimpers when harshly thrusts up into her, burying himself as deep as he can while in this position, and the sounds goes right through him, pleasure building in every inch of his spine and settling at the base until he sits up, almost causing her to fall off of him at the sudden movement, so that he can join their lips together, all of their moans and pants being captured by the other’s lips until neither of them can breathe, while Emma’s arms wrap around his shoulders, holding on tightly as her nails dig into his back, her thrusts stopping momentarily while he continues to sheath himself inside of her.

It’s an awkward series of movements until he lays back against the pillows, bringing Emma down with him, propping himself up on his feet, his muscles screaming in use as the rest of his body sings in pleasure, while he pumps himself into her heat, feeling her walls contract around him as her bliss begins.

“I love you,” she whimpers when his pace increases, her breasts brushing against the hair on his chest as he forces her entire body to move with each of his thrusts, her hips moving with him as he harshly grabs onto her ass, moving her with him as much as he can. He can feel her everywhere, every inch of his body covered in the soft, smooth skin of hers. He’s never felt closer to her than he has in this moment, and as her walls tightly contract around him and her breath hitches, he hopes that she feels the same while she falls apart on top of him.

He works her through it, continuing to move inside of her and fondle the globes of her ass, nails digging into her skin, and when she comes back to herself, she swivels her hips to move him higher and higher, the pleasure and ecstasy moving from the base of his spine to the tips of his ears and the curl of his toes until he’s whispering his love into her ear, furiously kissing her jaw while he spills himself into her, his length convulsing while his entire body tenses before everything is bliss.

She slides out of him with a hiss, his essence dripping down her thighs, and instead of getting up to grab a wet cloth, she stays hovering above her for a moment before she flips over on her back, a dopey smile on her face that makes him smile even with his shaking limbs.

“You have a good time there, love?”

“Oh God, yes. That’ll tide me over until tomorrow night.”

“What makes you think you’re going to get lucky tomorrow?”

She doesn’t respond, her chest still heaving slightly, before crawling back on top of him as she lays wet kisses against his chest, following the dark trail of his hair before moving back up to kiss at his neck and his jaw. This isn’t helping the calming of his heart, and it’s a good thing they were up far earlier than they had to be.

“I don’t know about you,” she whispers in his ear, biting the lobe quickly before pulling away, a shiver running over his shoulders and causing them to shake the slightest bit, “but I think bets are pretty good that I’m going to get laid on my wedding night.”

“Oh, are you getting married tomorrow? What a lucky man.”

“He has no idea.”

“Trust me. He does.”

After finally cleaning themselves up and opening the curtains so that they can see the rain fall, they climb back into bed and lay in silence for a long while as Emma runs her nails through the hair at his chest and he rubs lazy circles into her hips. It’s the most relaxed he’s felt in a long time, and he idly wonders if he should be high on nerves for tomorrow or if this is exactly how it’s supposed to be. He doesn’t know, and he’s never really asked any of his married friends or family. But he thinks that this feels right.

Emma sighs before she nestles further into his shoulder, and he feels her lips against his shoulder. “I love you,” she whispers, the sound almost getting lost as a wisp of air underneath the still going rain. He wonders if that’ll ever stop. There are probably people freaking out about it for the wedding right now, but worrying won’t do anything to help the rain stop.

“I love you, too.” He presses a kiss into her hairline, and he’s glad to know she feels as content as he does. “I think we should get married just like this.”

“Naked and in bed?”

“It’s been done before. Probably somewhere in my own family line.”

“Well, who are we to break from tradition?”’

The rain eventually dies down, the sun coming out to shine and dry the water coating the ground and the trees, but neither of them move from their position in bed, lounging around and teasing each other until they come together again, this time quick and hard. The entirety of their bodies are pressed together as he pushes himself into her, swiveling his hips as he pulls out before pushing back in, and his lips rarely leave Emma’s. When they do, it’s to whisper words of love to each other, and while the sound of the rain is gone, he wouldn’t notice for how wrapped up he is in Emma and for the sound of his heart pounding in his chest.

They are eventually called out of their room so that they can get ready for the day, Emma’s stylists ringing the doorbell when neither of them have managed to drink their morning coffee, but at least they’ve showered at this point, the early morning not allowing them any extra time as they wasted it away in bed.

Well, he wouldn’t call it a waste.

The rest of the day passes by in a literal blur of reviewing everything for tomorrow, going through the ceremony step by step several times with their aides until they actually get to St. George’s Chapel and rehearse three times, his legs aching until everything is done perfectly and they’re allowed to leave for the dinner.  

There are hordes of people waiting outside of the Chapel and while they could easily go out a back exit and never be seen by anyone, Emma suggested that they go greet people for just a few minutes. She’s taken to this whole public eye thing like a fish in water in the past few weeks, and while he knows she still gets nervous, she’s a bit braver and more confident every time.

“Are you sure, darling?” he double checks, grabbing onto her hand and twining their fingers together and squeezing. “We don’t have to.”

She shrugs. “They’re all out there for us. We might as well go say hi.”

She makes a solid point, and he braces himself before the two of them get ready to walk out the front steps of the Chapel where they’ll exit tomorrow as husband and wife. There’s quite a crowd gathered, more than he expected for tonight, and he can see the faces brighten as the two of them walk out and wave with their free hands. He also feels the eyes of the cameras zoom in on them, but it comes with the territory, especially lately and in the new future with the media demand and coverage over he and Emma.

He’s attempting to decide which group of people to speak with when Emma tugs on his hand and directs him to a group of young girls holding signs indicating that they’re most likely from America, and she practically drags him over to them.

“Hi, girls,” she greets, reaching out to shake their hands, “I’m Emma, and this is Killian.”

“We know who you are,” one of them giggles.

“Ah, right,” Emma laughs. “It’s a force of habit, and I like to introduce myself as simply Emma when I can. So you all are from America?”

“From Maine! Like you!”

“They must make all of the loveliest ladies in Maine then,” he flirts, and even when Emma whips her head to look at him, her eyes saying I cannot believe you just embarrassed them like that, a smile still tugs at his lips at the ways all of the girls blush.

“Excuse Killian,” Emma laughs, “he’s a bit of a charmer.”

“Oh we know. We all call him Prince Charming.”

The girl who says it immediately claps her hands over her mouth, and he almost has to do the same to contain his laughter.

“I prefer devilishly handsome, but I thank you for your compliments. I hope you all have a lovely rest of your trip.”

He and Emma go about collecting the gifts from everyone, various boxes that they hand to their aides as well as several flower arrangements, which Emma promises to either add to her bouquet or add to their centerpieces, much to the excitement of the men and women gifting them the flowers. It’s a bloody brilliant idea to make these people feel included since they took time out of their Friday simply for the chance of seeing he and Emma. And since the flowers from the wedding will all be donated to charities on Sunday, he thinks that it’s an even more brilliant idea to have such a personal touch.

The personal touch is simply Emma.

They move along to several other people before their security tells them that it’s time to go inside as more and more people are making their way here, and they still have a dinner to go to. He and Emma wave, thanking the last few well-wishers for tomorrow before loading up into the car and being driven away to a back entrance of the castle for their rehearsal dinner.

He’s coming back from the restroom in the middle of dinner when he hears two very distinct voices chatting down the corridor. It doesn’t feel right to eavesdrop, but he cannot help himself when he stops and waits just before the archway of the hall and listens for a moment.

“ – and I finally wanted to let you know that you’re going to be a stunning bride tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Liam. For all of that. It means the world to me that you’re here for Killian now.”

“Aye, I hate that I was a bloody insipid man in the past. It was…still is, awful of me.”

“It was.” He smiles at Emma telling Liam how it is, and she’s amazing, really. Just the greatest woman he can imagine. “But as long as nothing like all of that ever happens again and you stay being a good person above all, we’ll say it’s ancient history, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan to me, lass. Thank you for being understanding.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’ll beat your ass if you do something to hurt him again.”

“So you’ve told me. Repeatedly.”

He smirks from his hidden position. He knows that Emma and Liam have had their own personal chats to deal with all of the history not just between Liam and Killian but between Liam and Emma, but no part of him is surprised that Emma has offered to kick Liam’s ass more than once. She could do it, too. Absolutely no doubt about it.

“But he’s so much happier now having his family be his family, so I don’t think I’ll be kicking your ass anytime soon.”

“Bloody shame that.”

He hears Liam’s laugh, bright and cheery and just happy, before he hears the click of her heels start to fade away as the two of them undoubtedly start walking back to the dinner. He smiles to himself at the bit of conversation he just heard, and when he walks back to the dining hall, he finds Emma sitting back down at their table. After he joins her, he leans over and plants a rather passionate kiss for being in public on her lips, and he can feel her smile into it.

“Hi.”

“Hi, babe.”

“Have any interesting conversations in hallways while I was gone?”

Her eyes widen and her lips part, and he knows she’s going to slap his shoulder before she even does it. Or attempts to do it. He doesn’t let her capturing her wrist and bringing it to his mouth to kiss.

“You’re an eavesdropper.”

“It’s not my fault you had a private conversation in a public area.”

“But you stayed hidden to listen to it.”

“I heard you threaten to kick Liam’s ass.”

“Good. So you know I can do that to you, too.”

“Aye,” he answers, kissing her wrist again. “I love you.”

“Love you, my sleuth.”

“Oi,” his brother shouts from out of nowhere, “the two of you can be all over each other later. Finish your dinner so we can have desert.”

“I agree with that,” David joins in. “What’s that saying? Let them eat cake.”

“Wrong family lineage, David.”

“But cake is never wrong, Killian.”

“Dad,” Emma laughs, twisting in her chair to look over at her father, “we’re not even having cake tonight. You’re a day ahead.”

“You get your love of cake from someone, darling, and your mom and I have been dieting ever since you got engaged. We need the cake.”

“We really need the cake,” Mary Margaret pipes in, her voice almost at a growl, and he and Emma both laugh, each of them covering their mouths as they watch Mary Margaret shrug before shoveling more food in her mouth. “I love both of you, but I’m not sure this diet is worth it anymore. We work in a pub that serves greasy food. This has not been easy.”

“Well tomorrow,” Killian raises his glass and holds it over the table until everyone raises theirs as well, “we eat.”

“We eat,” everyone repeats, the sounds of wine glasses clinking together before everyone takes a sip.

“Now let David and Mary Margaret eat soufflé before they eat us.”

“Killian,” she giggles, and damn does he love when she says his name when he’s peppering kisses across her neck, sloppy and wet and altogether not eloquent. “Killian,” she moans again, and he doesn’t want to let her go, nudging her into the wall so that his entire body covers her while her hands are wrapped around his neck.

He noncommittedly hums, moving from kissing her neck, knowing very well not to stay in one place too long so as not to leave too much scruff burn from her warnings this morning, to her jaw, smelling in the scent of the flowers of her perfume and the vanilla of her body wash. It’s a perfect mixture that he associates with her so much so that when he’s in a garden or near baked goods, he thinks of her.

He’s always thinking of her…which is probably why he’s not too keen on sending her off to her hotel with her mother and Ruby right now while he stays in a suite with Liam. Liam snores, and while they’ll be in separate rooms, he’ll still likely hear his brother. He doesn’t know how Abigail does it every single night.

“You’re bloody enchanting,” he whispers against her skin, nosing at her cheekbone and slowly inching over her face until his nose brushes against hers.

“I could say the same about you.”

“You should.”

“You’re bloody enchanting, Killian,” she whispers against his lips before capturing his bottom lip between her lips and sucking on it while their entire bodies are practically connected. “But it’s late, and we need to part ways.”

“I think we break enough protocol. Why don’t we break this little rule too?”

“Because we have to get ready separately.”

He hums, still not having moved back from being pressed up against her, and someone could walk down this hallway any moment now. He doesn’t care right now. Everyone in this building knows they’ve been living together for the past year, and anyone who is offended by that can shove it.

“Okay,” he acquiesces, pulling back from her, making sure to take a step back so they’re not entirely pressed together, “okay. I will be good.”

“Promise?”

“Aye, love,” he confirms, grabbing onto her hands and holding her palms. “I promise. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow,” she confirms, edging off of the wall and walking down the hallway back to where her mum and Ruby are undoubtedly waiting for her before stopping and beaming at him, giving him a wave. “Don’t be late.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Post-it promises (G.D.)

Warnings: angst and fluff, swearing?

Word count: 1400

A/N: I rarely do requests, so I really hope you like it :)

I don't even remember how the fight started. We never really had serious fights, it was all mostly just stupid arguments about what color the sky would be if it wasn't blue or which pizza topping is the worst. However, something changed today.

Things escalated quickly, to the point where we were both screaming at each other, while Ethan tried to get the hell out of dodge. Grayson never raised his voice at me like that, never once have I seen that vein pop on his forehead, nor the veins on his neck because of me. I knew he'd never hurt me, I wasn't scared of him. He never argued with his fists, but his words packed a powerful punch. I was scared of losing him. That was my biggest fear.

I can't remember the way this whole thing began or why, but the yelling, the loud thud that came as he slammed the front door as he left my apartment...that I couldn't forget.

As the door slammed and the realization of him leaving hit me, I fell to the floor with a loud sob escaping me. I probably scared the shit out of Ethan, because he was by my side before I even hit the ground.

My biggest fear was coming true and I didn't know how to stop it. I was breaking, but I didn't break quietly, it was like every atom of my being screamed in unison, traumatized by the thought of a life without him.

I know it's unreasonable, unhealthy to allow one person to have such a big effect on my happiness, but I couldn't help it. Grayson Dolan and I were inseparable from day one and ever since then I've been sure he was my other half, my soulmate. I gave up on the notion, but he proved me wrong. He was the one and I might have lost him today, so can you really blame me for being so hysterical?

The sound I made came from deep inside my chest, like the most hysterical crying, the screaming sobs only interrupted by a need to draw breath. It was a primal sound, one we're programmed not to ignore, so poor Ethan was trying to soothe me, to get me to calm down, but I was a mess without a single thought that didn't involve his twin brother. I needed him back, I needed him to say he loves me, that everything will be alright like he used to do when he witnessed my anxiety attacks.

My anxiety got so much better, Grayson being one of the main reasons for that. So, was it really a surprise my mind broke apart once the man who glued it back together left?

I felt when Ethan picked me up and took me to the bedroom. That only reminded me of all the times Grayson stayed over, cuddling with me and having deep conversations about life and the future we planned together till the first light of the day lulled us to sleep. I could hear a distant conversation Ethan had with someone about me, but I was too lost in my own world to pay any attention.

I don't know how long I've been crying, or how long this pain would last..better yet, how long would I last with the pain that seemed to be getting stronger by the minute. My entire chest hurt from the sobs breaking and shaking me to my core. Constantly scrunching my face as I cried also caused an ache that was nothing compared to the chaos that raged on inside my head.

I was startled by an arm that pulled me close into a warm embrace I recognized instantly. When we finally found each other in a warm, slow and luxurious hug, I felt as all the pain and hurt had melted away. His chests rising and falling against my back helped calm my own breathing to normal so our breaths were in unison, his soothing voice singing a song he knew always made me smile.

„You would not believe your eyes, if ten million fireflies, lit up the world as I fell asleep.“

His voice was smooth and clear and quiet yet powerful. Soothing, in a way. I know you don’t really call a guy’s voice beautiful, but his truly was. Grayson was very shy when it came to singing, always making sure other people couldn't hear him when he let loose. It took me a few months to catch him in the act, because he always sings in the shower. That time was different, because he was singing as he made breakfast after our first night together. I loved watching him in nothing but his underwear as he moved around the kitchen, singing along to 'Halo' by Beyonce and I will never forget the warm feeling that filled my insides and a huge smile that spread across my face as I realized I really did find my angel.

I finally calmed down, at least enough to turn around and look at him.

„You came back.“ I poke Gray's nose and hold him close, brushing a strand of dark brown hair away from his face. He sniffs dejectedly and buries his face in my chest. It seemed like our roles have reversed and it was my time to cuddle him and make sure he was okay.

„You're the only person I know that gives indefinite hugs...even when I don't deserve them.“ He mumbled and I realized he was beating himself up over our fight.

„You always deserve them. Always.“ I whisper, running my hand through his hair, twirling a few strands of hair between my fingers,

„I'm sorry I walked out..I'm sorry I ever yelled at you.“ He lifts his head up and our eyes meet. His eyes were red indicating he cried too.

„I'm not mad at you. I'm just glad you came back.“ I caressed his cheek with my hand. He took my hand and kissed my palm, placing it back on his cheek again.

„I could never leave you. I can't believe I made your anxiety come back...you cried because of me.“ His words were full with self hatred and I wasn't having any of that.

„It's not you fault I fall apart so easily! We're going to fight..it's natural, but my reaction to it isn't. I'm the unstable one here.“ I muttered.

Grayson sat up and pulled me up to his lap.

„When you get this way...I don't care if it's just overthinking, or simple worrying about what to wear or anything you might think isn't big or important...Call me. I want you to call me. 3 pm, 3 am, doesn't matter. Call me. Promise me.“ Grayson wasn't begging, this was an order.

„I promise.“ I replied and leaned in, wanting to feel his lips on mine again. That kiss was soft, gentle and full of love and reassurance we both needed.

„I wanna write down a few promises. Like Meredith and Derek did with the post-it.“ I said between kisses and Grayson jumped up and grabbed his phone, typing.

„1. (Y/N) will call Grayson whenever she feels anything but happiness.

2. Grayson will not scream at (Y/N) when they fight. The fights will all be done in a calm way where both parties explain their own POV and they reach a mutual decision.“ Grayson read what he wrote so far and I had a few of my own to add.

„3. Grayson will not walk out on Y/N for any reason.

4. Y/N will give Grayson all the hugs he can handle.“ I smile, leaning on his shoulder, watching our own version of a MerDer post-it be created.

„5. We are end game.“ Grayson adds and I couldn't help but giggle.

„And 6. Grayson has to sing to Y/N whenever she asks him to.“ I smirk and he rolled his eyes playfully, licking his lips before answering.

„Why do I have a feeling this will come back and bite me on the ass?“ Grayson pecked my lips and I feigned innocence.

„I promise to use that superpower for good intentions and nothing else.“ I left a kiss on his shoulder.

„So...this is our post-it..our forever?“ Grayson laid back on the bed, pulling me down with him. I rest my head on his chest enjoying the sound of my favorite sound in the world; his heartbeat.

„Forever.“