#leave my audience alone and touch grass >:3

[zdux]

SFW headcanons with Xayah and Rakan dating a Vastya reader who has wings

Rakan & Xayah X Vastya!Reader who has wings

The two of them have always known one thing: Together, they are complete. Together, they make one pair of wings.

Until they met you.

You were the only Vastya they had ever run into with a complete set of wings. They knew it was possible, but it was common belief that having two wings was a bad omen, it meant you would be alone forever.

And yet, despite the folktales that surrounded it, you seemed happy, proud even. Maybe it was because you could fly, soar through the skies on your own, and see sights the two of them only dreamed of, but neither of them could deny that they were impressed by you.

Xayah was unsure about you at first, as she always is with new people, but she learned to trust you slowly. The more you told her about what it felt like to fly, the more she realized she was becoming entranced by your stories. She grew to love how you described the sky, how the wind felt against your skin, how it felt to glide high above all your worries... and she grew to love you. She would stare into your eyes as you told your stories, seeing a night sky in the reflection the campfire cast. She would watch them sparkle like a meteor shower when you got excited, and she would smile every time. Rakan was the only person she ever felt like she could be truly vulnerable with, and here you were, making her feel the same way. She almost didn't believe it, thinking at first that it was just how she felt about the sky and the wind, but as she coaxed you into telling stories about yourself instead of the sky, she realized the feeling didn't go away. You were more special to her than flying ever could be, and all she wanted to do hear you tell stories for the rest of your lives.

Rakan was the opposite, as usual. He liked you almost instantly, begging you to tell him about your adventures in the sky. But the more you told them, the more somber he became. The reality that he would never be able to experience it, to join you up there brought him down and reminded him about all he was missing out on. He'd give anything to have a chance to fly, the closest he ever came is when he was using his wing to stabilize himself when jumping or falling. He would stare out into the starry sky while you told stories about your journeys, while Xayah stared into your eyes passionately as you spoke. He'd look out, wishing he could get a glimpse of that world, but knowing he never could. He didn't resent you for it, in fact it made him fall for you harder; knowing you had something so special about you that no one else could ever truly share. It made him realize how unique you were, and that no matter how badly he wanted to touch the sky, the actual closest he would ever come to it was touching you.

Both of them realized the other was falling in love before they realized it themselves, but they weren't afraid. They didn't fear that they would fall apart, or that you were coming between them, not at all. They realized that they both wanted the same thing: you. And they were completely happy to share, if you'd have them.

When they eventually confessed, they did it together, taking turns to ask you to be them with in their own unique way. When you accepted, hugging them both and crying, they were both shocked and held you, Xayah asking what was wrong. And when you told them you felt so relieved that they felt the same way, and that the fairytales weren't true, that you didn't have to be alone, they both smiled. Rakan wiped the tears from your face, and they pulled you close in an embrace. From that moment on, they realized that the myths shouldn't be about how alone those with wings are, but how lucky they are to fall in love twice ♡

I hope you liked it!! I tried to go really soft here, something about this prompt just came across so heartfelt and loving to me.

[babytaes]

afterglow

➳  summary:  You, too, lived in a colorless world, trying to connect with it. How long would you have to wait for that one to brighten it up and let you see the real world?

❥  pairing: wonwoo x female reader

❥ genre: angst, fluff, kinda soulmate au.....?

❥ word count: 7k (sorry, mans is my bias and I had to ;)

❥ warning: mentions of death.

➳ part of the song series

↳  Imagine a world like that,

We go like up 'til I'm 'sleep on your chest

Love how my face fits so good in your neck

You had a twin brother who was everything to you. Everything was always you two, from the endless amounts of laughter to the sneaky efforts to take Christmas cookies early in the morning.

With him, everything seems to be so colorful; in your lifetime, everyone was given a companion who may be a friend, sibling, or lover. It was simply something that you treasured. As a result, the alternatives were numerous.

You had no idea how much his life meant to you. He was your second half, and now you'd been split in half, with one gone and the other remaining.

Months passed, and your relationship with him became increasingly dimmer and dimmer. The brilliant hues faded in and out, with black and white patches becoming more prominent.

That awful day, unfortunately, was the last time you saw color. His light had faded from the world, and all that was left was black and white.

With him gone, your entire life seemed pointless, even your day-to-day existence. No splash of color to brighten things up.

“Y/N, I'll never forget you, big sister. Thank you for the enjoyable and considerate memories, and don't let this stunt your growth, please do that for me. As the beeper went off, he began to cough incessantly.

“Helpppp anyone.” As your parents draw you back into their arms, you hear many doctors rush into the room.

There was nothing they could do; his hue had vanished from this world. When you opened your tear-streaked eyes and examined your hands, you noticed that the formerly vivid cream palms had turned gray.

As if all colors were abruptly bleached out of the world, revealing a universe of whiteness—the rainbow, flowers, trees, and art, everything freshly bleached and pearled. The last vestige of color had vanished from your life, and you had been broken since then, heartbroken over the loss of your dearest friend.

“Y/n, hey you're good, we could use your help.” As you glanced to the side, you noticed that one of your employees had just spilled some water from the mop bucket.

As you approach their side, you assist them in mopping up the mess while sweeping aimlessly across the floor, making sure to get every spot. Due to your new life of no color it reflected on your life emotionally.

As the days passed, you became increasingly depressed and unmotivated. There wasn't a single day when you didn't feel mopey or lonely. It wasn't like anyone could help me; it was just the challenge of living a life without color.

Although you sincerely desired to overcome this phase of your life and simply find the right person to fill that void, life did not work in your favor at the time. Everyone around you seemed to be looking for or had already found their "person."

All you wanted was to find the person who could restore your hope and love, which had been taken away when your brother died. Your parents did everything they could to assist you, including setting you up on strange and ineffective dates that just added to your unhappiness.

Nobody could replace that color that your brother provided for you, or maybe someone could? 

"I'm off," you remarked as you pulled off your apron and clocked out in the back. As you stepped out the door, you heard a flurry of goodbyes before closing it behind you.

The world never shifted when the clock struck five.

As you strolled down the crowded streets, the sky before and above you remained grey, never letting up that cloak of shade. A melodious music gradually pours into your ears as you go down the bustling sidewalk.

You follow the dazzling yet tranquil sound of the guitar aimlessly as you imagine music notes flying through the fall air. You cautiously open your tired eyes and spot the crowd to figure out where these tunes are coming from.

Looking up, you spotted a swarm encircling a male, but you couldn't tell who it was. However, it was the music that drew you in; you'd heard that melody before. Even if you weren't musically inclined, you could hear that tune anywhere.

It was his, the one he wrote for you.

--

You dashed outside to see your brother strumming a tune on the grass with his guitar. Your brother possessed a talent for music. It is a condition that many people are born with, and you were fortunate that your brother was one of them.

He didn't go a day without making up or humming something he'd learned. It was frustrating to hear it every day, but it was still lovely to witness his enthusiasm for it.

“Hey, what are you cooking up this time?”  As he began to strum the guitar, he turned around and grinned at you. You couldn't understand what he was mumbling, but it sounded lovely as his fingers casually slid across the strings.

“I don't have the lyrics yet, but I'm sure they'll come. You laughed and nudged his shoulder.

“Just don’t go play at 3 in the morning. Okay?”

“It's not my fault that's typically when the inspiration comes,” he grumbled as he rolled his eyes.

As you raced away from him, you swiftly took his guitar, saying, "Well, I guess that inspiration will have to wait." He leapt from his seat and dashed towards you, yelling your name.

You had no idea that would be his final song; you regret not listening to the finished product; you never knew if he finished it. However, when you got closer to the enticing sound, you observed a young man strumming a guitar, and your ears perked up.

A slender man with long fingers and a quirky side smile, perhaps a musician, delicately touched a golden acoustic guitar, playing her ever so elegantly. You stand there, enthralled by the song, as his hands strum and tug the steel strings of the guitar. You take a cautious step closer to him in order to get a better look.

Allowing the music to take control of your body, you take a deep breath and allow an ounce of hope to creep in. From miles away, the formerly lovely and alive girl could be seen racing to you as you opened your arms to her.

You tried desperately to reach her before she vanished into thin air. The glint had disappeared. As you slowly open your eyes, you notice the man stop playing and gazes up at the audience.

As a smile crept across your face, the edges of your lips began to curl up. You'd forgotten what a smile looked like; you hadn't seen one in a long time, and it just felt natural. Even though he was gone, you could sense his presence. As you began to back away from the mob, tears began to flow freely from your eyes.

As you faded from his view and moved away from the crowd, the boy cast a peek at you. You swear you saw a glimpse of color rushing through your orbs, even if it was just for a split second. You couldn't tell if this was a joke or a new experience for you because you were more terrified than excited.

Could you trust that vision? Would they leave your life like he once did or would they stay? (IT)

Although you wanted to stay and figure it out you had somewhere to be and you didn’t want anyone to waste that special time.

(1 hour later)

Opening the rusted gate and looking at the wrought iron fences sends shivers down your spine as you are whisked back to that tragic day.

--

As you headed towards the pit, a crack formed in your heart. As they lowered his casket into the black abyss, the steady steps of feet carried it there. Countless shadowy figures form a procession, speaking in unison to pay their respects to the one you cherish. Your inner essence is corrupted by despair, and your heart bleeds like a river inside. Nothing could ever make you feel better.

As they began to fill the hole with dirt, tears welled up in your eyes, prompting you to lower your head. He didn't want you to be sad; he knew his time was coming to an end, yet he felt so safe in his final days.

He wasn't going to abandon you; he'd promised you that he'd left you something to aid you along the path. Even if that were the case, you never discovered it after four years. You rummaged through his room and tore it apart.

You quickly recognized that he was either joking or that the drug had taken effect in his brain and he was talking gibberish. In any case, you made a pledge to visit his grave every day from that day forward to keep him company and to keep yourself sane.

---

Clutching onto your bag, the leaves crunched beneath your feet as you peered about. You see specks of people strewn throughout the cemetery as you hear some speak in low whispers. It didn't take you long to find his gravestone.

You noticed the dead flowers drooping over as you took them out of their vase beside the tomb. Replacing them always brought joy to your heart as the sight of a fresh bouquet of flowers brightened the somber ambiance, which contrasted with the mold-infested tomb.

Taking out your cleaning supplies and speaker, you start working on his tomb while listening to his favorite music. As you hummed along with the song, your soft-bristle brush softly scrubbed the headstone in an orbital motion from bottom to top, carefully avoiding the fissures.

As you finished the soap, you began to rinse the stone as dirt and debris began to fall off the tomb. Although you couldn't determine if everything was off, you could plainly see the phrases and symbols, which was a good hint to stop cleaning everything off.

You wanted to do more for him and not leave any dirt on the surface. But because everything was gray, you couldn't tell, which made you sulk as you put down your brush. As you check the clock on your phone, you exhale a sigh of relief.

7:23p.m

Looking around, you noticed the stragglers had dispersed, leaving you alone as you gazed up at the sky.

“I hope the sunset looks beautiful today, I do miss it.”

The late evening sunset was the one thing you missed more than your brother; you had always admired how everything just flowed and fit together in the evening sky. It's almost as if someone began painting and simply let their hand float through the air.

As you turned to face his tomb, another smile appeared on your face, prompting you to go into your bag for something. As you placed down a cup for you and him, you chuckled at the bottle revealed beneath the sky.

“Lucas, here's to another day. It's been difficult in recent years, but today was a good day. I sensed your presence through the music of some random person; it was strange, but I'm glad I was there to see it. So thank you,” you say, raising your shot glass in the air and taking a sip.

As you heard a voice, you wiped a stray tear from your face.

“I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“Shit, what the hell,” you cursed the dark figure, startled and terrified. Who is there? As you squint your eyes at him, a male emerges from the shadows.

It's him.

----

You cough as you stand up and face the nameless man, he extends his hand as his glasses slide down his narrow nose, “Hi I’m Wonwoo.”

You take his hand in yours and shake it slowly, his grip firm until you let go.

“Hi..wonwoo? “I'm Y/n.” As the boy grinned at you, your voice was barely audible.

He takes a careful step alongside you and sits down close to your brother's grave, placing a case beside him. As you enlarged your eyes and sat down next to him, still observing him, the atmosphere felt reassuring but strange.

“I apologize for startling you; I didn't know that you were there. I’m not sure if your brother mentioned me but I was his friend, we used to write songs together.” As he turned to face you, you noticed the tall man attempting to cross his legs.

You shook your head as you began to gather your belongings, unsure of who this man was. For all you knew, he may be lying to you, so you needed to get out of there as soon as possible. You rose up and began walking away after securing the zipper on your backpack.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave. I can come back another time. I am truly sorry if I interrupted anything."

“No, it's fine,” you say with a shake of your head and outstretched hands.

“Are you sure?”

You walk away again, nodding your head as you hear his voice and a familiar tune.

You came to a halt in your tracks as you slowly turned around to face the boy after hearing a faint melody. As your ears perked up, you heard a low voice.

‘I stand still before you before me. I’m okay, not okay..” The lyrics faded out as you started to find your bearings again as you made your way out of the cemetery. As you stepped toward the road, you strapped your bag on, making sure you had everything you needed.

A girl out on a walk is something you can see every day, yet you were unique. You walked as if you and the road had reached an agreement, as if the concrete was more than eager to support your feet.

The road understood you.

*Ping*

The light of your phone lit up as you clicked on the message.

Mom: Hey sweetie, I dropped off some food at your apartment and did some tidying up. Get home safety. 

You: Thanks mom.

Her message brought back memories of days when you and her would cook together and simply bond over the end result. You missed it. Because you live in different places, you don't get to see your parents very frequently, yet they always made time for you.

I wish you could do the same; home is just too much for you to stomach, and you'd rather avoid it.

You reach the corner street after a few more steps, ready to begin your one-mile trek home. As you look back after exhaling a sigh, you hear rumbling on your feet. An automobile approached you, its bright headlights blazing directly at you.

You shifted to the side, squinting your eyes at the sight, and wonwoo greeted you again before you realized it. He grinned at you with his dazzling whites as he bent his head down.

what is with this guy?

Hey, hop in, I'll give you a ride. It's becoming late, and I don't want you walking through here.”  As you took a step back, wary of the stranger, he moved his hand closer to you.

“Um.. No-no I’m okay. However, thank you.” As you heard his engine trailing behind you, you began to walk faster. He followed you for a few seconds longer before you came to a complete halt and stared at him.

Through the windshield, you could see him smirk as he waved his hand to you.

“It'll be a lot faster, and if you're worried I'll kidnap you or anything, don't fret. I'm allergic to cats, and I'm a cat person myself. As a result, I assure you that I will not harm you. I just wanted to help a friend.” You moved over to his car, smiled a little, and hopped in, securing yourself with your seatbelt.

“If you do anything I have some bleach and I’m not afraid to use it,” he chuckled at you as he started the car and proceeded to exit the cemetery.

“You’re funny.”

As you gave wonwoo your address he proceeded to drive out of the rural neighborhood as you put your head on the window. You didn't realize it at the time, but you could feel his penetrating glances.

The car was quiet as the low sounds of music vibrated through the car. When you weren't driving, car journeys were the best since they enabled your mind to fantasize and paint over the enormous landscape you were seeing. That haven you built in your imagination calms you and makes you feel protected. The place where you may get away from reality.

As soon as your eyes close for the night, you hear him humming a familiar tune. Rather than remaining silent, you begin a conversation with him, inquiring as to how he learned the song.

“So how did you meet Lucas?” As he laughed, he cast a peek at you.

“Well, I met him at a college party a long time ago and discovered he makes music, so we used to meet up at a friend's studio and just create.” You lightly chuckled as a tear fell down your face as you nodded your head.

It was good to hear other people talk about your other half; it was almost as if he was there with you right now.

You were worried when he gave you brief glances since his eyes were off the road, but as he spoke, you felt protected because he spoke highly of your brother.

“Well, I'm not sure if he mentioned you, but the last song we were working on was one he wrote for you, and he said it was a gift.” As you turned to face him after hearing that final statement, your eyes widened.

“He—he said those exact words, a gift?”

As he rounded the corner and approached your apartment complex building, he shook his head. You could see his shoulder resting on the window sill as he put the car in park.

You hesitantly walk out of the car, stuttering as you gather your belongings, and turn to face him.

“Thank you for the ride; did Lucas mention anything else about the song?” “He wasn't quite finished with it, but he did give me and my other friend some crucial stuff to get it done,” he said as you pressed your face closer to the window.

Your heart began to race as you realized that things were beginning to turn around for you; perhaps this wonwoo boy was destined to be in your life. Lucas' way of demonstrating that he took great care of you.

“Would you like to work on it together sometime?”

Inside, it felt as if the creatures were finally waking up from their rehabilitation and making their way into the real world. Even if it took a while, this new form of relief made you feel alive again. You were adamant about working more to reclaim your color.

In some way, wonwoo was the key to it all. 

“Yes, a hundred times yes,” you answered, smiling like a kid in a candy store as you handed him your phone. “Just let me know when you're free.”

Wonwoo returned your phone to you, which you joyfully accepted and placed in your pocket. As you walked to your door, you waved your hand at him and cried out to him one final time.

“Thank you”

“For what?” As you entered the flat and locked the door behind you, you waved your hand at him. You let out a sigh and shake your head as you slid down to the floor.

“What a day” 

---

(4 weeks later)

It seemed like you and wonwoo had entered a very unique connection in the last few weeks. He made every effort not to cross any boundaries, both physically and emotionally. Regardless of the fact that you were his closest friend's sister, he was always respectful to you.

Even if that is what he sees from his perspective, you felt more alive when you were with him. Although you could still see gray and couldn't bask in all of his glory, it gave you hope that one day, whenever that time came, you'd be able to see him and everything else.

That was something you lacked previously: hope. Everyone around you including your parents could see a significant change in your life.

--

“Hey, honey, how's it going at work?” Before taking your purse, your mother kissed your cheek and opened the door for you.

As you met her at your old house, a smile emerged on your face. It was your first visit home in a while, and seeing you there brought joy to their hearts, despite the difficult years you've had.

“Everything has been going well, and I just wanted to drop by and see how you're doing. I miss seeing you and dad.”

“Is that my beautiful daughter, am I seeing things right?” your father exclaimed as he emerged from the back. As a tear trickled down your cheek, you watched as he raced over to you and hugged you.

As he stared at your face and admired it, the hue in front of you remained gray.

“Such lovely brown eyes,"  It pained your soul that you couldn't remember what they looked like since gray dulled everything and made you forget.

“Thank you, dad, but instead of fawning me, let's play some games. Just because life is bleak doesn't mean I can't be your ass at Monopoly.”

Your mother, gasping at your remark, watched from the back, her eyes welling up with tears as she marveled at a sight she hadn't seen in a long time.

“Moooom, don't start sobbing or dad will start crying,” you said as you turned around.

She comes over to your side and wraps you and your father in a hug, sandwiching you between them. It felt good because you were missing these times with your folks. You couldn't stay at home when your brother died; you had to leave and get away. Everything was just too much for you as things started to remind you of him.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“I'm really proud of you for coming here and having the confidence to do so. I understand how difficult it must be for you, but thank you.” Through the loud sniffles between you all, you started to feel warm as you wiped your tears.

“All right, no more crying; let's get down to business.” You dashed over to the couch and snatched up Monopoly from the board game box, motioning for them to join you. They chuckled as you began to pull everything out as they made their way over.

As loud yells and laughter echoed out throughout the home, the night was fresh and enjoyable. There were times when you were terrified you'd lose, but you couldn't let your champion status lapse.

Your mother said, "Noo, you're cheating."

“No, I'm not; there's a house there, and you need to pay up or I'll put you in jail.” Between the two, your father snickers and keeps his mouth shut. He was well aware of the rules.

“All right, but that wasn't there before.”

With a chuckle, you shook your head and held out your hand, saying, "excuses excuses."

As you turned off your alarm, it rang at 8:00 p.m. You wouldn't have realized the difference between night and day if it hadn't been for alarm clocks. You jumped up in triumph after placing one more piece on the board.

“And that's why I remain Monopoly's ruler.”

You witnessed your parents give up as they lifted their hands in surrender. They both remark, "Fine, you win," as they begin to clean up the mess. Taking the stray cups and bowls from the tables you set them in the sink as you turned to watch your parents.

It's been a long time since you've been back here, and you've certainly missed the atmosphere. Lucas wouldn't want me to miss out on this opportunity.

“Why don't I come on weekends and bring back board game nights?” As your parents turned back, you uttered, "Next time, I'll bring a friend."

“Oh, it would be wonderful; the more the better.”

As you walked back over to them, you hugged them as they kissed your head.

“You go, we'll take care of this; the drive back is long,” your father remarked as he took your bag and handed it to you.

“Thank you guys, and I love you and the night we just had.” As you approached the door, you waved goodbye before closing it.

“No thank you, love,” your mother said as she and your father watched you leave the home and get into your car.

After one last look at the house, you back out of the driveway and go down the street, looking forward to the day ahead.

Studio day!

--

You yawn as your body startles you up after taking a deep breath of fresh air. As you slowly open your eyes and look out the window, you breathe a sigh of relief. Something felt different. The chirping of the birds outside made you feel cheerful, not sad.

As your vision remained a little lighter, you began to blink your eyes faster. It wasn't your typical gray morning, and you thought it was growing lighter. The gray was gradually dissipating. You grinned as you considered your color returning.

What prompted this?

It didn't matter because today was dedicated to finishing your song; you, wonwoo, and his friend Mingyu had completed all but the title. You stretch one more time before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

When you get to the mirror, you take a look at yourself. The person in front of you had radically transformed; she had forgotten about her flaws and insecurities, and her heart now held more love. This woman didn't pick apart everything that was wrong with her; instead, she supported herself.

She was unrecognizable, and the old girl in the mirror was finally slipping away. You began to smile more frequently and laugh a little more, and the air around you became warmer rather than frigid. Someone's love had seeped into her heart and begun to unfreeze its hardness.

And that person was wonwoo, which you didn't realize until you looked in the mirror. If you've observed it, chances are that others have as well. And you were grateful for his help in getting you out of that gloomy situation. You were able to regain your trust and begin letting people in again, which made you pleased.

Lucas would be incredibly proud of you, and you didn't want to disappoint him again. You intended to honor his memory and keep him alive in your heart, rather than allowing the past to plague you and prevent you from living your life.

He would have wanted that. 

As you stepped inside, you turned on the shower and stripped off your clothing. You had to find a method to repay wonwoo for his compassion. You would not have gotten this far without him and his musical gift, and you were grateful for him.

"I could take him to our place," you offer as you turn off the water and grab a towel from the shower.

“Yeah he would like that.”

----

Work seemed to fly by as your mind raced at a hundred miles per hour. You had everything planned out and had recruited the support of your parents to help you set up.

Your manager tapped your shoulder and asked, "Hey y/n, you okay?" As you dropped the pencil, you flinched.

“Oh sorry, just spacing out.” He shook his head as he spoke out, “For the rest of your shift you can take off if you want, we’re going to close earlier than usual. If you're leaving, clean out the coffee machine and be on your way.”

You enlarged your eyes as your jaw dropped, and you raced into his arms, squeezing him tightly. Your boss chuckled awkwardly as he gently pushed you away from him. For some reason, everything seemed to be working in your favor today. As you rush to get ready, you begin working on the machine, your smile never leaving your face.

You sped to the back room, clocking out and placing your apron into your locker, as you were done in no time. As you walked to the front, you waved goodbye to your manager before heading to your car in the parking area.

“What's the matter with her? That's the first time I've ever seen her that happy. Hmm”

And with that you were on your way to your parents house as you sent a quick text to wonwoo. As you grinned as you placed your phone in the dash holder, you came to a stop light.

You: Hey cancel today's session, I have a place to go to. It may also provide us with better title recommendations. You down??

Wonwoo:) Yes, that sounds excellent; the studio can become claustrophobic. Send me the address and a time frame for my arrival.

You: *address name*. Bring your guitar and meet there in 2 hours.

Wonwoo:) Oh okay. Can’t wait to see you there!

(read 5:45 p.m.)

Even though you weren’t nervous you wanted everything to be special, wonwoo deserved it for all that he has done for you in the past weeks.

You let yourself go as you blast songs down the road, pressing play on your playlist. You didn't notice it at first, but the color was gently sneaking in as you drove around. As creams and beige colors drifted in and out, the outsides of your eyes began to lift.

As you turned off the headlights and opened the door, it didn't take long for you to arrive at your destination. You smiled as you got your belongings from the car and made your way up the hill, finding your parents already set up.

You drop your belongings on the blanket and walk up to hug them, saying, "Hey guys." As they begin to chat with you, they embrace you in a friendly hug.

“So we set up all of the essential elements, such as lighting, a seating area, and refreshments in the cooler and basket.” As she began to indicate the various components, your mother explained. As she brought you around the hill to the tree, she took your hand in hers.

“You remember when you and Lucas did this?” You laugh as you remember that day as you place your palm on the antique carving.

-- “Noo I'd like to go first; you always go first.” You sighed as Lucas took up the knife and began carving his name into the tree.

“You better not cry and tell mom,” he remarked, turning to face you and seeing your glum demeanor. As you passed past him, you stood up straighter, rolling your eyes at him and snatching the knife from his grip.

“I'm not a baby like you,” you say. As he huffed and hurried toward mom, you heard him scoff.

“Mommmm y/n referring to me as a baby. And I'm not one of them. You stood there watching as he stomped his foot and landed on Mom's lap. Your father chuckles, rubbing his back and shaking his head at his wife.

As you return to the blanket, you cross your arms and say, "Well, then, quit acting like one."

That erupted in an outburst as he started to whine on mommy lap.

He did, in fact, act like a baby. Wiping a tear from your eyes as you chuckle, you hold your mother closer as you kiss her on the forehead.

“Hey we have an hour left before wonwoo get here, I'm going to head to the house to clean up. If he arrives early, keep him entertained.” As she watches you descend the hill, your mother shakes her head.

As you pull out of the parking lot, you put your foot down on the accelerator and drive over to your parents' house.

(45 minutes later)

Wonwoo approaches the destination, looking out the windshield as he spots some lights on the hill. As he steps out of the automobile, he notices two people moving around. He smiles as he collects his guitar from the rear and walks up the hill, noting the serene atmosphere.

“Those should go over by the tree and make sure they don't fall.” Wonwoo enters the place, his eyes widening. Fluorescent bulbs fanned out along the tops of the trees, each with a different picture on it, surrounding him.

As he looks down, he notices a blanket with a speaker playing music and the champagne.

Your parents finally turn around, gasping, when your mother rushes over to welcome him, saying, "Forgive us, we didn't hear anything, you must be wonwoo." That's y/n father over there, and I'm y/n mother.” As she introduces you to your father, she smiles and gives you a motherly look.

On this magnificent evening, only a few minutes had passed when you approached the hill once more. You take a brief glance in the mirror before applying some Chapstick. Rubbing it in you open the door as you look up on the hill, you hear conversations as you panic up the hill.

“So this is y/n, she was quite the messy twin when she was a baby-”

“What are you doing, Mom?” You walk over to her, ashamed, and place yourself between you and wonwoo, speaking quietly to her.

“I said to entertain him not embarrass me.”

“Oh, you're overthinking things; did you know he's friends with Lucas?” You chuckle as you grab your father and mother and begin bickering as you force them out of the location. As they descend the slope, they wave goodbye to you and wonwoo.

Taking one look at him, you notice his amusing state; he was cheesing so hard that his rosy cheeks were visible.

“Sorry about them.”

“It's fine; all parents do it.” They simply adore you.” You cross your legs and shake your head as you sit on the blanket, passing him a wine cup.

“To another wonderful day and a wonderful friendship.” Wonwoo takes out the champagne from the cooler as he opens it and sprays the excess in front of you.

“Ahh, you're spilling it” As you giggle at his action, the extra juice pours on your face. You reach for a napkin to wipe the wetness off your face as he takes one in front of you.

“Here, let me take care of it.” He leans in closer as he wipes the liquid from your face before resuming his seat. As your stomach begins to become a #1 gymnast, that simple action sends you spiraling.

“Th-thanks”

He smiles as he pours you a drink for both of you, and as he does so, you grab his guitar box and pry it open, admiring the golden beauty inside. Picking it up, you begin strumming a few chords of the nameless song while moving your head to the beat.

“Wow, you're actually pretty good.”

“I did have a good teacher, Lucas taught me a few things, but I only recall a few chords, so it may become irritating after a while.”

Wonwoo hands you the glass as you take it in your hand, and as you take a sip of the bubbly drink, you hand him the guitar.

As you take another sip, your spirits lift as you stare out at the scenery in front of you. You hear wonwoo begin to play the tune while you stare off towards the colorless world.

“Ruinous imagination consumes me. Makes me dream sweeter dreams, I close my eyes but thoughts of you. Bring noisy night, to you & me, real and dreamy.” 

You sway back and forth as his voice soothes your body, his palm brushing over the guitar while his eyelids close, taking in the lyrics.

As you look up at him, you say, "Thank you." It's unavoidable, but tears stream down your face with no attempt to wipe them away.

“Th-thank you foreverythingyouhave-“ you say quickly and brokenly.

“Hey hey, calm down, I can't understand what you're saying,” he says as he scoots over to you and pats your shoulder. You both laugh as you start over, this time with more poise.

“I wanted to express my gratitude to you for genuinely improving my life. You probably don't know, but my relationship with Lucas was incredible; we were never apart, and when he passed, I couldn't live without him. I've struck rock bottom a few times and done some unfathomable things that I'm ashamed of, and I'm sincerely grateful that I've survived another day.”

Wonwoo drew you into a hug and caressed your back as he ceased patting your shoulder. As you sob into his shoulder, the tears begin to flow again.

“Sorry for interrupting, but it seemed like you needed one,” he says as you continue, releasing leave of you.

“To put it simply, you have brought me so much joy and optimism that I am overwhelmed. It's not the same without Lucas, but I'm grateful you entered my life at this point. So thank you; I don't know how to express my gratitude.”

You come to a halt as he looks at you through his round spectacles, and as you become concerned, you begin to look down.

“Sorry if I just spewed all that out.”

“No, it's fine.” I truly appreciate it, and I'm glad I was able to restore a sense of hope in your life. I may not be Lucas, but I will do my best to pay tribute to his memory.

You smile as you feel a wave of self-assurance and an overpowering sensation of bravery wash over you.

When you bring wonwoo closer to you and kiss him on the lips, everything inside of you turns on, and your body begins to feel alive again, exactly like it did before.

“I'm sorry I should have asked you first-“ You release him and lean back as you watch him.

He silenced your words with his lips as his hands wrapped around your neck.

Everything comes rushing back to you in an instant, like a blanket being pulled off of you. As you open your eyes again, you let go of each other. The difference this time is that you can see him.

As he smiled at you, you could see his cheeks flush with scarlet. You can see his silver rings around his slender fingers as his hands slip away from your neck.

You slowly turn around to face the sinking light on the horizon. As if a million scarlet petals have ignited, the sunset blooms on the horizon.

You expected the tears to flow this time as you stood up and walked closer to the cliff's edge. As you stared at the gorgeous view in front of you, you undoubtedly looked a mess.

You collapse to your knees and exclaim, "I can see it!"

Wonwoo approaches you slowly, bending down with you and holding you in his arms.

“See what?”

As you held him again, your snot-filled tear-streaked face turned to his.

“The color has returned, and I can see it now.” As he gasps, he pulls you back.

“Wait, are you serious, what color shirt am I wearing?” 

“IT'S GREEN, YOUR SHIRT IS GREEN!!” Wonwoo scoops you up and spins you again in an instant. You lay another kiss on his lips as you chuckle into his lips, unsure of what to do.

The clouds floated into my life, not to bring rain or storms, but to add color to the sunset sky.

He picks up the polaroid camera off the ground and takes a candid shot of you. After he pecked your cheek once more, he smiled as he wanted to remember this special day.

You send wonwoo off to find a knife from the basket as the photo develops. You observe him as he runs around the area like a child, and you smile as the photo develops.

You've probably seen images where the background is blurred and the only thing in focus is the subject of the photograph. That was us. Every other detail became hazy as I concentrated on every facet of him.

You didn't realize how fortunate you were until now; he was the special someone you had wished for eons ago.

Everything felt even better when your color returned, and you knew deep down that everything was going to be well.

It was all because of wonwoo.

Your brother left you a gift, the lovely gift of music, which was seen via wonwoo.

Yes, your brother had been your best friend, and yes, he had left you. But, as you found a great friend, the life he presumably wanted for you had only just begun.

You hoped that with him, you would be able to treasure the love you had just as much as you did while you were together.

“Hey, wonwoo, I have a song title, also follow me.”

As he began heading toward you, he turned around and looked at you. You've both arrived at the same tree that was planted many years ago.

He gives you the knife as you start placing your name under your past self. As he watches you cry, Wonwoo does the same.

*Forever, Y/n, Wonwoo, and Lucas*

As he finishes up, you grab his hand and stroll back to the blanket setup. He takes a seat beside you and wraps his arm over your body.

“So, what are your thoughts?” 

“Bittersweet, that's the title,” you said as you turned to face him.

“I love it,” he says as he pulls you closer to him with a nod of his head.

And with that, your brother's memory was carefully preserved, shared, and intended for all to hear.

“Lucas, I'll never forget you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

➳ Navigate to the Maze

[dxrkdreamer]

Salvation Part 2

Sukuna had come back to be repaid for what he did for you, his original plan of terrorizing you went down the drain as he stared at a different girl from what he left and the way his heart and mind remained puzzled because of you.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Word Count: 2.3 k

Part 1

Part 3: coming soon… September 19

(A/N: Part 2 everyone! I hope you guys like this :)

Warnings: Mentions of fighting and some blood.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

You heard stories as you started life with the newfound skills Sukuna helped you develop. The stories were enough to make adults shiver in fear, enough for them to offer their souls. But you laughed at them. Because you knew nothing, not even their soul would stop Sukuna from annihilating them if he felt like it. He didn’t need a reason. The stories of him burning down villages and torturing the inhabitants of said villages were most likely true. You heard a lot of villages began worshipping him out of their fear. It was foolish you thought, He’s just a man.

You may have not been the fittest back then, but you were one of the smartest. You knew he left you when you were 5 because he did want to kill you- but only when you were begging for your life. He wanted to enjoy the pain he’d bring upon you. But if he still wanted that he could have killed you when you were learning from him. You were happy and trusted him, and what hurts more than someone breaking your trust?

He did not want to kill you now either. You knew that. If he did, he would have done it long ago.

So you stared at him, right in his eyes as he looked down at you. Not bothering to pay attention to the other people around him, they were like maggots to him after all.

After he had left you, you lived in the same cottage and fended for yourself. It was not difficult for you to do. But eventually the meat you hunted, berries you picked and plants you harvested would start to spoil. It was too much for a young teenager so you started sharing them with the fellow orphans from your village. But after being with you, they wanted to learn how to fend for themselves too. And you taught them what he had taught you.

Eventually you had become quite popular in the village, and even the nobleman would send their children to you for martial arts lessons. Your students were skilled enough to go to the competitions held in bigger cities where people from all over the country would come to see. And your students won often.

But after 7 years of this you were bored. So when you spotted the peculiar man from your childhood during a martial arts competition your body could only bubble up with excitement inside.

The host man announced the winner and Sukuna smirked as he saw it was one of your pupils. Your name had become known since you were the first female teacher, let alone a female teacher with such a high success rate. The stories he had heard of you made his chest swell with pride… Because I was the one who taught the brat he’d tell himself at the strange feeling. He looked down and noted how much you had grown, from a scrawny preteen to a beautiful woman. Your old tattered clothes were replaced with a silk robe- a very suggestive robe with a deep neckline and the hem at the bottom just barely touching the top of your ankles. So that when you walked your lower leg would be in clear view of ongoing lookers. He knew you wore the cheeky robe on purpose, you loved the attention you got from all the gasps and looks of distaste from other females. What a lecherous woman.

As you walked over to congratulate your student, he swooped down onto the center of the stadium. Chuckling as he heard the gasps from the audience, his four arms stretched out, claws protruded, ready to attack. The sun’s rays made him appear like an ethereal being that demanded attention.

“It’s time you repaid me brat.”

The crowd went crazy, everyone running out, looking for a place to hide as fast as their legs could take them. But his focus was just on you. Your student is long gone, leaving you alone. You never taught them about loyalty so it didn’t matter.

“How can I do that?” you asked tilting your head, you spoke with such calmness it made Sukuna question if you knew who and what he was.

“By coming with me, as my servant”

“Sure” you said nonchalantly. Life was boring, he had come to save you again… from a mundane life. But nonetheless saved you even if it was not from an immediate danger. You did not feel any sympathy for your village, the label of a traitor did not bother you. The village betrayed you first by not batting an eye or offering you any form of help during your time of need. You owed Sukuna a lot, and you were not scared of him, just extremely grateful.

“Women I am taking you with me” He repeated again, slightly deadpanning. Could your pathetic human ears not hear his majestic voice? He brought down a hand and the seating of the studium tumbled down as his power slashed it. The rubble flying everywhere as debris and sand made your sight hazy.

“And I said yes” you spoke and walked towards him, stopping a few inches away where you grabbed one his arms, pulled it down and pressed his claws to the exposed skin right above your heart “You can’t kill me” you said answering the question he had not asked yet.

His arm stayed still in the girl’s hand as he looked at her curiously. When he felt you push his claws further onto your skin, enough that blood started seeping from the puncture wounds his nails created he realized it. He really could not kill you. You saw him not as a monster that terrorized innocent people in villages for his pure joy, but as a powerful man who saved you and gave you a life with purpose. You were the first acting out of love rather than fear.

The dust had cleared and the sun had become visible once again. The hot rays burning the back of his neck, it would surely burn you too if he was not standing two and a half feet taller than you, shading you from it.

“Very well then women”

--

“Sukuna-sama I’ve washed and hung your clothes to dry and have cleaned your quarters” he heard you say. He looked back at you from training, your cheeky robe now traded to more modest apparel. A yukata that would not expose your ankles or your chest, in fact the fabric would sometimes drag on the floor and the neckline was almost choking you. You hated it, but that was all the more reason for him to make you wear it.

It had been about 2 weeks since he “kidnapped you”, he called it but youd respond saying you went willingly- which was the truer of the two stories. Cleaning and cooking and doing the basic servant duties. Normally you’d hate this more than your previous lifestyle, but with Sukuna-sama there was always some excitement. Mostly watching him have trouble with the most basic things and yelling out to you to “fix the mess” in disguise of needing help.

He grunted in response but noticed you settling down, back resting against a tree trunk and you sat in the soft grass he had not wrecked yet. “Woman, have you finished everything?”

“Yes Sukuna-sama” perplexed he brainstormed for another task he could give you but came up with none on the spot.

“Spar with me.”

“What?” You looked up, mouth open as you stared at him. Had you heard him correct?

“I should not have to repeat my words for my servant to do as she is asked.”

Oh.

You stood up hesitantly and walked up in front of him, standing face to face as you took your position. He on the other hand lifted one set of hands so his head could lean back at them, the other lazily at his sides.

You ran up to him, getting ready to punch him, which he stopped with one hand grabbing your fist, so you took it as an opportunity to kick him. But this outfit made it very difficult for you to do as you were thrown to the ground.

“Have you grown weaker?” he mocked. This time with more fire in your body you stood up, ripping the bottom of the dress off, exposing your knees. And you ran forward again, now with more mobility.

What the…. He stared at your exposed legs as you ran, he was distracted allowing you to land a harsh kick at his side making him stumble and fall.

An even score, 1-1.

Dumbfounded he looked up at you, you smirked but deep down you were just as surprised as he was.

“Brat” he mumbled, standing up, stretching his limbs. “One more time” he smirked at you before charging at you with speed. It caught you off guard and you only recovered a second before his right fist came right down at you, giving you just enough time to block it with your forearm, pushing his hand to the side. His left hand was already moving, but you were too and you blocked it again. He was fast and you knew he was not at his full speed, he jumped clasping his other set of hands together as he brought them down on you but you dodged again, jumping back creating a gap of a few meters between you two. You ran to him your fist ready to make contact against his smug face, but he caught your fist and swung you around before throwing you against some trees, the force breaking the tree as you went flying into the trees behind it, each tree falling as your back crashed into them, finally stopping as the force faded.

“Ughhh what was that...'' you groaned trying to move, but your back was in too much pain, and you felt like the bones in your body had all changed places and were swimming around in whatever blood was left in you. In your clouded vision you saw him approach you, tsking and sitting down on a fallen trunk.

This move was different, you knew that much. More powerful? But how and why?

“That had cursed energy in it,” he simply said.

“Cursed energy? What’s that?” you asked confused, your brows furrowing up. “Like curses?” you had heard about those but only thought of them as wive tales.

“Curses are apparitions made from cursed energy” he said, watching carefully as your eyes lit up with curiosity. “The energy is a manifestation of negative emotions”

You nodded pretending to understand what he was going on about.

“Tsk let me show you women” he said.

This marked the next part of your training from him, he taught you how to manipulate your own cursed energy to the point you could also see these apparitions and use it to your advantage.

And you grew stronger than ever before, much to his delight.

--

Throughout the time spent with you, Sukuna began growing fond of you, he enjoyed your presence. To the point he rushed through his usual escapades of terrorizing the lives of people. He’d perk up watching you look through the many offerings he received, picking through them and smiling in excitement when something caught your eye and you’d beg him to let you have it.

“You seem deep in thought?” your soft voice asked from across the room, you were sitting on a floor cushion, mending one of his robes using a needle and thread. It was getting late, the sun was setting and the colors spilled into the room, lighting you up in it’s warmth. You looked ethereal, he thought, taking in the sight of you. You were humming quietly, your eyes focused on the needle, your hands holding the soft fabric of the robe you had picked out for him, your legs tucked underneath you towards the side, the skirt of your dress riding up to reveal your legs. His eye twitched.

“When did I allow you to wear such skanky clothes?”

“Sukuna-sama it's just so much easier to move in these” you argued. He scoffed looking away, but looking at you through the corner of his eye.

“You’re nice to be around women” he grunted.

“Sorry, what?” you lowered your head, hair spilling over your face to hide your grin.

‘I’ll cut your useless ears off myself once you’re done with my robe.’ he tried saying, but he couldn’t lie to you. As he opened his mouth to attempt to say it again he felt the futon dip as you sat near him, placing his finished robe to the side.

“Are you saying you like me?”

“If I didn’t like you I would have killed you and smeared your blood all over the filthy village you came from”

“So you do like me.” How annoying he thought

“Why must I always repeat myself around you, I should just slash you up right now” he says as he lifts his finger, expecting you to dodge it but you sit there not defending yourself as his power cuts through the cloth and flesh over your shoulder, you just grinned up at him. You were so troublesome, getting hurt for his attention. Leaving the room he came back with water, a cloth and some gauze. As he sat down to clean the wound he inflicted you laid your head in his lap, legs sprawled out as he cleaned the wound.

“Hey” you whispered, lifting your hand up and caressing his jaw with gentle fingers “I like you too”.

“I didn’t ask”

[fandom-monium]

For the Holidays - Part 3

Summary: In which Spencer doesn’t want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “Please, we're FBI agents. I think we have enough stealth training to get by.”

WC: 2k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), fluff, descriptions of panic/anxiety (non-extreme), defensive Spencer, angst but not from unnecessary trauma, emotional-support Reader, reunion arc, song fic

I'm at a party I don't wanna be at And I don't ever wear a suit and tie, yeah Wondering if I could sneak out the back Nobody's even looking me in my eyes Then you take my hand Finish my drink, say, "Shall we dance?" (Hell, yeah) You know I love ya, did I ever tell ya? You make it better like that

You shield your eyes, “Your class sure knows how to throw a party.”

Immediately, you’re blinded by white and gold, the strobe lights bouncing off the matching streamers and balloons surrounding you. Gingerbread and peppermint bombards your noses as Mariah Carey blasts from the overhead speakers, well-dressed men and women swaying all over the gymnasium. Others laugh, walk around, eat, catching up with old friends. It reminds you of a middle school winter formal, aside from the understandable sophistication that comes with age. And the alcohol.

However, there’s hundreds of faces; they’re worn, deep-set, and wrinkled over time but Spencer would recognize them anywhere.

Memories flood in. His heart rate skyrockets.

No, no, no! Not now!

You feel Spencer tense next to you before you see it. His eyes are unblinking and his breathing quickens.

You don’t hesitate, dragging him aside and sticking to the wall.

“I-I’m so-sorry,” Spencer manages between shuttered breaths.

"Sorry? For what?" You don’t look at him, gently guiding him with a hand on his back, eyes searching. You stop next to a Christmas tree. Perfect. Shadowed, private. No one will look twice at a couple in a secluded corner.

Spencer ducks his chin, “F-for all this.”

Although Underneath the Christmas Tree thunders overhead, you still catch the small whimper that escapes him. Your chest tightens; you knew he was bullied, but what the hell did these people do to make him react like this?

Knowing you won’t get answers now, you rest his back against the wall, shielding him from prying eyes. “Reid, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not 'fine',” He rasps, shaking his head. He tries to focus on something⎼anything⎼but tears muddle his vision. So he shuts his eyes and presses a hand over his pounding heart, willing it to calm down. It refuses. “You came all this way to help me, and-and now I’m wasting your time⎼”

“Woah, hold up,” You grasp his free arm, stepping closer and trying to meet his eyes. Mindful of his aversion to touch and his germaphobic tendencies, you leave a sliver of space. 

It doesn’t go unnoticed. Spencer feels your warmth bloom even through the sleeve of his blazer. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. None of this was a waste of time, and honestly, I still would have come along had you asked, even if I didn’t have to act as your partner.” Your smile turns shy as you add, “And for what it’s worth, I had a lot of fun today.” 

Your words, while an attempt to comfort him, only sends his heart into hyper-speed. He finally meets your gaze, blinking through unshed tears. “Really?”

“Really.” 

Your eyes, tender and earnest, sparkle in the strobe lights. Spencer thinks, if you keep looking at him like that, he might kiss you.

He doesn't even notice his heartbeat leveling as you lace your hand over his tentatively pulling it away from his pounding heart. He flushes when you don’t let go. “Reid, this can wait. Whatever your bullies told you, whatever they did, you prove them wrong every time you put a bad guy behind bars, every time you finish a geo-profile, every time you save a life. You can always try another time. If it really is too much, we can leave now and you can show me that first bar you went to, the one that gave you shots of apple juice?”

Your smile broadens as Spencer gives you a wobbly grin. "You think anyone will notice us leaving?"

You snort, "Please, we're FBI agents. I think we have enough stealth training to get by."

Spencer chuckles. Without another word you pull away from him, leading him towards the exit, hands still intertwined as the double doors come into view. Then you feel Spencer resist and you pause, glancing over your shoulder. 

He’s looking at you, and for the first time, you see him looking at you like he’s never done before. 

But he has. The only difference is it’s completely unrestrained. Spencer has looked at you like this time and time again⎼eyes soft and brimming with adoration⎼never to your face, always held back in fear of what it could mean, how’d you react.

Right now he doesn’t care. He just… wants you to know. To understand.

You chalk it up to the lighting. 

“I know I said this already, but,” His eyes crinkle and his voice, though wavers, is laced with such warmth, you nearly melt on the spot. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

… Oh dear. Only Dr. Spencer Reid could knock the air out of you with just words.

Not sure of what else to say, you bite your lip and nod, lips threatening to turn into a full blown grin. “Me too.” You ignore the way your heart pounds. 

Not now.

Satisfied, he moves to leave, tugging you behind him as you approach the exit.

“Spencer Reid? Is that you?”

You freeze.

We at a party we don't wanna be at Tryna talk, but we can't hear ourselves Read your lips, I'd rather kiss 'em right back With all these people all around

I'm crippled with anxiety But I'm told it's where we're s'posed to be You know what? It's kinda crazy 'cause I really don't mind When you make it better like that

It’s been over a decade. Her voice comes hesitant, deeper than he remembers but he could never forget.

“Reid.” 

Your voice shakes him out of his stupor and he glances at you.

Right, he’s got you. He’s safe with you. 

You frown. “Who’s this?”

Before he can conjure an answer (he’s not even sure if he wants to), the woman steps up, “Hi, I’m Alexa Lisbon. I was Reid’s… classmate.” She says it slow, like she’s not entirely sure either, offering a hand and a tight-lipped smile. You introduce yourself, taking her hand.

Spencer wishes he brought a bottle of hand sanitizer. 

Honestly, the one time he doesn’t bother? IQ 187, my ass.

Pushing down his discomfort, he inches himself between Alexa and you, despite the subtle tremble in his hands.

It’s actually her. She's aged just like everyone around them, wrinkles by her eyes and smile lines at her painted lips. What the hell could she have smiled about after what she did to him?

She's still pretty though. He hates that he still thinks she's pretty.

Alexa’s eyes roam over him, and his skin crawls. "Wow, it’s been so long. You’ve grown.“

“Thanks, it’s the trauma. You know, from working for the FBI, among other things,” He spits out the last part. He feels you press against his side, a warning. He doesn’t care. 

If his biting tone affects Alexa, she doesn’t show it. “Right, right. You’re in the FBI now. That’s amazing,” She trails off, rolling her lips anxiously and clearing her throat. “Hey… can we talk in private?” 

Memories flash like snapshots. 

The grass field. The sports shed. A blank-faced audience.

Spencer bristles, “Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of (Your Name). Why? You want to laugh at me? Criticize me? Stri-” You adjust your hand in his, reminding him he’s not alone. He grits his teeth. 

He almost feels guilty when Alexa flinches. Almost.

“Okay,” Her tone is soothing, careful like she’s addressing a cornered animal. Her gaze flicks between you two, hesitating. “If it makes you feel better, you can bring (Your Name), but we really need to speak with you.”

Spencer’s brow furrows. “We?”

Alexa steps aside, nodding past the crowd of drunken dancing, waiting for him to decide.

“It’ll be okay,” You watch him from the corner of your eye. It’s strange; you’ve witnessed Spencer snap a few times, usually to unsubs, people who deserved sharp tongues and razored vocabulary. There were rare occasions when the two of you had your spats, but he never lashed out at you. Not like this.

You wonder what Alexa Lisbon did to warrant such hostility. 

“She’s not an unsub, Reid,” He shivers, your whisper brushing against his ear. He clenches his jaw as he stares down Alexa, but he leans into you, listening. “You’re going to be fine. I’ll be right behind you the whole time.”

And you swear if something happens to Spencer, you’ll kill everyone in the room and then yourself.

Apparently, that’s enough for him as he steps after Alexa, weaving through the mass of bodies. His grip tightens around your hand. Eventually, Alexa stops and you find yourselves at the farthest corner of the gym, by the dining tables.

Suddenly, Spencer wants to run. To throw up. 

Like Alexa their faces have aged, matured as he expected. Some have gained and lost weight, dressed completely different than back in the day, while others look like the world treated them so, so kindly. It makes him grimace. 

Of course the universe decided his tormentors didn’t need to suffer after what they did. He’d expect nothing else. Karma is nothing if not a bitch.

Maybe he can projectile vomit onto them.

Wait, he doesn’t have the abdominal strength to do that. Damn it.

“Spencer Reid,” Harper Hillman breathes, as if she’s testing the way it rolls off of her tongue. Like his name is new to her. Makes sense, considering all they’ve ever called him was anything but his name. She stands from her chair, smile tight-lipped like Alexa’s. “I didn’t think you’d make it.”

Spencer gestures lamely. “Well, here I am.”

“Yeah, um, would you like to sit? We saved you a seat,” Harper’s gaze switches between Spencer and the table. 

They saved him a seat? They saved him a seat? 

Who are these people? 

Spencer shifts his stance, eyes flitting over each face but never lingering, unable to look them in the eye for long. “I’d rather stand, thanks.“

“Oh, no problem. You remember everyone, right?” Harper glances at Alexa, the few members of the football team that showed up, gesturing to them. 

“I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187,” Spencer’s face hardens. “What do you think?”

To his delight and astonishment, Harper has the sense to look flustered. “Right, almost forgot about that.”

Spencer nods, toeing the hardwood with his converses. The atmosphere is so thick. Seconds go by.

Alexa clears her throat, “Well-uh⎼”

“What do you want?” Spencer grinds out, one hand fisted in his pocket while the other grips yours tighter. He hasn't even been there for an hour, and already he’s tired and afraid. Whatever they had to say, he wants to get it over with.

Mouths open and close as they try to come up with an answer. Harper, Alexa, the entire group trade hesitant looks, like they had a plan and it wasn’t going accordingly. Like they’re not sure how to proceed. Or who should lead the assault.

Then a nod from Alexa and they stand almost in unison. Spencer’s eyes narrow when Harper smoothes down her dress and tugs at her collar, while Alexa wrings her hands together and bites the inside of her cheek. They all exchange looks between each other and the football team, even they look apprehensive, shoulders tense. Readied.

Oh my god they’re going to jump him. Pin him down and strip him naked again. 

“Reid,” Alexa starts, the group stepping forward as if backing her up. 

Waiting, probably for a signal, Spencer realizes. His stomach turns to lead.

“We want to say…”

Well, good fucking luck. The gym is packed with witnesses, and he’s 90% sure you’d risk your job, bust their kneecaps before you’d let them touch him.

It’s a bold but foolish move, really⎼

“We’re sorry.”

He braces himself.

…Wait. ‘Sorry’?

All his brain function stutters to a halt.

AN: 3/4?? 

guess who wrote 4k just to set up a song-fic?? *raises hand* 

yes this entire fic was inspired by I Don’t Care by Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber okay dont come for me

we all need an emotional-support reader in our lives

also my first reid angst i hope i set the tone and pacing right, wrote it a lot differently :| 

If y'all notice the reference to starstruck by @spacedikut?? Just a small dedication/tribute thingy to them bc I love and appreciate their everything 😚💛

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

By the king’s hand 🐍 VI

Warnings: warnings to be added as we progress but this series may contain non-consent, violence, death, and other triggers (this chapter, oral, violence, degradation)

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The king proves to be mercurial and you prove to be foolish.

Note: Masterlist update coming today @darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor​. Updates might be sporadic from here on out because despite the world being utter shit, Black Friday still exists.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The air was fragrant as you sat on the low bench, wrapped in only a robe, and stared out the window. On the other side of the room, Loki dressed with the help of the young boy, Hal. The steam of his bath still dissipated in the air as he grumbled now and then, often drinking deeply from his glass and pouring another slosh of water from the pitcher.

It was as if you weren’t there. How easily the king forgot about all but himself. He dressed in dark blue that day, trimmed in an ivory cape and boots. He swatted Hal away and touched his temple as the sunlight made him squint. He sighed and brushed his fingers through the ends of his dark locks.

“Today will be the riding events. I did excuse myself from those lists.” He spoke, almost as if to himself. “Tomorrow I will be in better condition to win at the blade.”

You were quiet as you drew your legs up onto the bench. You slouched over your knees and rested your chin on your crossed arms.

“I will be gone much of the day but I expect you ready upon my return,” he neared and his shadow loomed over you, “You will undoubtedly be eager for it… From what I recall of last evening, you might even be begging for it.”

You glowered up at him as he smirked and winced then tapped his forehead.

“What am I to do? I have nothing but to walk the boards and stare out at the grass. I will be mad by the time you return.” You muttered as you turned your head away.

“All the better,” he slithered. He lifted his toe and swiveled his heel. He exhaled deeply. “Well, what should you like to do?”

“Besides the obvious?” You sneered.

“Perhaps, if you behave, I will see you to a stroll among the corridors when all are retired, but for now I cannot offer much more.” He sniffed, “So, what is it you peasants occupy your time with?”

You blinked and rubbed your cheek as you thought. You hadn’t much besides your work and your occasional adventures with Gilla. Neither would be viable now.

“I might try to sketch?” You looked up at last.

He considered you with a wrinkle in his brow and nodded. “I will grant you the favour upon the promise of one in kind,” he said, “...upon my return.”

You bit down. You expected as much but it still irked you. You turned to the window again.

“As you wish, your majesty.” You stared out at the green leaves that crested the branches of the palace yards. You felt him watch you a moment longer before he retreated.

“Hal, you will fetch her paper and some charcoal,” his soft soles approached the door, “Tend to her meals as you will and draw her a bath. She is starting to smell a bit… common.”

“Your majesty,” Hal chirped and followed the king through to the receiving chambers.

You listened as the doors opened and closed and you dropped your legs over the edge of the bench as you leaned against the wall. You grunted in frustration and hit the bench with your fist. It was exactly what Loki wanted; you at his mercy. Those small requests would grow to desperate pleas. His ploy was working but you could do little to keep him from controlling you entirely.

🐍

You weren’t very good at drawing but you managed a sloppy image of the scene through the window. The trees were slightly crooked and the gate uneven but it kept you busy for a time. You turned to a blank sheet but couldn’t focus enough to draw as you could hear the distant audience from the other side of the glass.

The common folk didn’t often attend these events. If they were present, they were selling wares to those lords and ladies who gathered for the pageantry. Still, trapped in the endless monotony, you longed to join the festivity. Anything but to sit within those walls and wait until your tormentor returned. Even if he could make you feel splendid, the king was little more than your warden.

As the sun reached its peak, Hal appeared to draw your bath with several attendants. You washed alone and dressed in one of the gowns provided by the king. You hate how the satin clung to your torso even with its boning and how the skirts tickled your legs as they swished.

You ate a little. Your tedium turned to impatience turned to agitation. The day faded from yellow to a calm blue and slowly dimmed beyond the stone walls. The din quieted as the sun descended. The king’s presence loomed in your mind.

You attempted a sketch of a lion statuette and relinquished the charcoal in frustration. Hal appeared with two covered plates on a tray and set them on the table. He placed a bottle of wine and some goblets alongside them and left you without a word. The boy seemed nervous since your prior conversation.

The king entered without fanfare. You looked up at him as you were distracted from the trance that had you staring into the unlit hearth. He glanced over at you and frowned. He tutted and removed his cape.

“I am aware your etiquette is unrefined but you will rise and pay your obeisance to me upon my arrival,” he uttered, “Do not think I grow negligent in my expectation of you, little mouse.”

You stood stiffly and bowed. He sat at the table and huffed.

“Well, get over here,” he pointed to the other chair, “Pour some wine.”

You crossed to the table and filled a goblet for him. Your own, you only filled to the half point. You sat and uncovered your plate as he did the same. He poked at the food. He was annoyed already.

“Are you not hungry?” He asked as he twirled his fork. “I am informed your plates are left barely touched as late.”

“I am,” you scooped up a potato, “I will eat.”

He tilted his head and considered you. He dropped his fork and leaned back in his seat. “Do not force yourself on my account,” he said, “If you do not appreciate the fare, then you may forego your supper.”

“Your majesty, I will--”

“No, no, as I recall, you owe me,” he glanced at the paper on the edge of the table and the sticks of charcoal, “And as I do anticipate an early morning on account of the competition, I would rather we sort this out sooner.”

He dropped a hand down and picked at the laces of his trousers, “Come, under the table,” he bid, “If you will not eat then you may use your mouth for other means.”

You glared at him, mortified. You brought your fork to your lips and he was quick to rise and bat it away. The top of his pants drooped as you dropped the silver and you blanched at him. He dropped back into his chair.

“I do not issue requests, I give orders. Now on your knees or I will have you even quicker on your back.”

“Then do it already,” you snarled, “I tire of your boasting.”

He stood once more, this time so abrubtly that his chair toppled behind him. He was upon you in a moment, his hands around your head as he forced you to your feet. His eyes flared down at you as you grabbed onto his arms and wrestled with him. You stumbled as he dragged you around the chamber he angled you toward the settee.

He shoved you down and slipped a hand down to your throat as he straddled you beneath him. He slid his hand down the front of his open trousers and pulled out his hard member. He lifted his knees and moved up to pin down your shoulders. He squeezed your throat tightly as he bent over you and guided his cock to your lips.

“You bite me and I will have your teeth on the floor,” he threatened, “Now open for your king.”

You clenched your lips but as your breath dwindled, you gasped and he quickly slipped inside your mouth. He sank down your throat as he brought his hand up above your head and thrust his hips roughly. You choked and kicked out. You slapped his thighs as you struggled to breathe.

He groaned as his hips slammed down harder and harder. You gagged and your eyes lolled back as your vision swam with tears.

“You do push me when I am already… inflamed,” he grunted, “When my temper has already been stoked by incompetents.”

He fucked your face without relent as you were trapped beneath him. His fingers stretched over your head and he sped up once more. He panted as he chased his end and when it rose, he flooded your throat without warning. He continued to rock into you until you swallowed around him. He shivered at the sensation and sat back as he slowly drew himself from your mouth.

His cock glistened as he rested his weight on your chest and steadied himself. He swallowed and hung his head back. Without looking, he poked two fingers into your mouth. Without thinking, you gnashed his digits between your teeth. You were met quickly with a strike across your cheek.

He wiggled his fingers, further pained by the slap, and growled.

“Must you insist on difficulty,” he pushed himself off of you and tucked away his cock. He grabbed your arm and wrenched you onto the floor. “There you are.” He jabbed you with his toe. “You can spend your night there.”

He shoved you back with his boot and spun away from you. He went to the table and took the heel of bread from his plate and the entire bottle of wine. “No supper for you. If I see that you’ve so much as stolen a crumb, I will whip you myself.”

He stomped to the bedroom doors and looked back at you one last time. “And leave the boy alone. He is not your friend.”

🐍

You stayed on the floor but didn’t sleep much. Little hazes but nothing more. Loki stirred in the next room and you turned to face the wall. You didn’t move as a knock sounded shortly after. The young boy seemed to always sense when he was required. He entered and hesitated as he passed you before the settee. He carried on and you let out the air in your lungs.

You heard the king’s voice and the activity that followed his awakening. When he emerged, you remained as you were. He ordered Hal around as he sat to tie his boots. He scoffed as he rose and swept towards the door.

“I know you are awake, mouse,” he said, “Let’s not make deception a habit.”

You refused to respond and he huffed. The door opened and he paused in the doorway. “See to her meals, boy.” His voice shifted direction, “Sir, you will watch the door.”

A grumble came in response to the orders as the door snapped shut. You rolled onto your back and sat up. The morning light made your head pulse and your eyelids drooped heavily. You pulled yourself up onto the settee and buried your face in the cushion. You hadn’t the energy to stay mad, you only needed sleep. It wasn’t long before it came.

When you woke, you were groggy. A plate awaited you on the table and the same buzz floated from outside the walls. Another day of sport and you were, as ever, pent up inside on the king’s whim. You slunk over to the table and ate without tasting. Your stomach ached until it was satisfied.

You stood and paced. You stopped at the window as you tried to get a glimpse of the tents erected around the tourney grounds but the silk offered little sign of what was unfolding. You hated that you had to wait, it was all you did. The king had chosen your punishment well. This purgatory was worse than any dungeon.

You marched back and forth. Your anger began to bubble over. Well, if he should have you do nothing, you will find something to keep yourself occupied. Perhaps you might tear down the drapes or dismantle the framed pictures of his smug ancestors. What worse could he do that he did not intend already?

You kicked the door as you passed it and your toe throbbed. Your slippers offered little padding and you swore. Further enraged by your pain, you punched the door. You stopped and listened through the wood. You could hear the drafty emptiness of the halls. Cautiously, you rested your hand on the handle and pressed until the lever lifted. 

You pulled the door an inch inward and waited for it to be forced back into place. But you met no resistance and poked your head into the corridor. There was no guard, no passing resident, no spy you could see. You retreated and steadied your nerves. Was it a trick? A trap? Either way, it was too much to deny.

You went to the wardrobe and took down the grey cloak hung within. You tied it at your throat and peered back into the halls. Still, no keeper to stop you from your escape. Well, it would only be a brief sojourn. You only wanted to see the games. To know what made the crowd so raucous.

You hesitated. If the king discovered your flight, you would be in dire trouble. Yet, he was competing himself and wouldn’t even know. So long as you were back before your guard. Where was that lug anyhow?

You put your foot down lightly. You slowly leaned your weight on it and stepped out into the hall, testing its vacancy. Still, you were alone. You pulled up your hood and closed the door behind you. You weren’t certain which way to go in the immense palace.

You lost yourself several times over before you found the stairs. You scurried down the steps and hid your face as well as you could as you passed by servants in their aprons and caps. You felt as if they all knew, as if any would accost you and report your offense back to the king.

But they didn’t and you kept on until you stumbled in disbelief onto the green. You followed the scent of roasting beef and the wall of voices to the cluster of tents along the sporting field. There were benches set on platforms to house the observers; the ladies waving their handkerchiefs and the older lords cheering on their favourites.

You stood before the steps of the stands and glanced around. Surely you were being followed. You couldn’t have just walked out onto the green so easily. It felt too simple. It felt a snare but yet you kept going.

You climbed up and pushed down your hood as no other wore theirs. You needed to blend in with the crowd. You walked behind a row of ladies as they stood and called out to the field. You stopped behind them and stood on tiptoes to see past them. Two contestants in armor charged at each other with blunted blades. The tourneys had long since traded real steel for training weapons. The forgers often complained of the flimsy designs.

You edged past the line of ladies and upon a closer look, you recognised the fighters. The prince, Thor, fought in red armor with a lion on its helm, and his brother, the king, faced him with serpents across his breast plate. As you heard it, the custom was to allow the monarch a victory.

Still, the audience held its breath as the swords crashed together once more. The much larger royal barely missed his brother with a fearsome strike. Loki was quick and kicked out Thor’s leg. The elder slipped but recovered easily as he batted away the next swing. The two danced around each other; Loki, graceful and light, Thor, lumbering but effective.

As Thor struck down with both hands, Loki deflected him but found the dull blade snapped by the force. He stumbled back and dodged his brother’s next attack. The king was fast but defenseless. He ducked and dove all around but at last found himself cornered by his burly brother. You saw the desperation and the realisation in his posture.

He made an attempt to disarm his brother only to be thrown back. He landed with a thud on his back and the crowd went silent. Thor sheathed his sword and offered his hand to his brother. There was a moment before the gesture was accepted and the king was hauled onto his feet. The men clapped each others’ shoulders politely but all knew there was little comradery between them. Only the prince would dare best the king. And he had dared.

The king waved to the crowd and the competitors were led from the field. The king reached to remove his helm as he walked towards the stall and looked out into the crowd. His jaw was tense and even at a distance you could see his spite. And, you swore, he could see you.

You carefully took a step back and hid behind the figure next to you. You let out a shuddery breath. He could know, now from so far away. You were just another body in the crowd. Well, you had come and seen the fuss. You would have to go before your absence was discovered and the alarm sent up.

You retraced your steps and staggered onto the grass. After such a loss, the king would be even angrier. He did not lie when he said his brother provoked him like no other. A dark foreboding stabbed you.

You already regretted your mistake. A moment of impulsivity had taken you too far. But he hadn’t seen you. He couldn’t have. You were just paranoid. 

You ducked your head down and raced up the palace steps and followed a servant until you found the stairs. You were lost again as you reached the top. The corridors seemed to only lead into each other in circles but at last, you caught your bearings.

You turned the corner that led to the king’s chambers but were suddenly jerked back as a painful grip closed around your arm. Magnus sneered down at you as his hand threatened to crush your bones. He slammed you against the wall and you gasped.

“The king will not be happy with you, wench,” he snarled, “Oh, I think he might just toss you back where you belong.”

“Let go of me,” you rasped, “Ow!”

He shook you with a sharp hiss.

“Shut your fucking mouth. You know what he will do when I reveal to him what you’ve done?” He taunted. 

You gulped down air and croaked out as squirmed helplessly. “And what… about you? What will he think of the guard who let me free?” You trembled as his grey eyes bore into you, “When he learns that your absence allowed for my escape?”

His nostrils flared and he squeezed your arms. His jaw ticked as he stared you down then all at once, his hands dropped. He shoved you away from the wall.

“You keep quiet and go back,” he stomped behind you, “And I won’t snap your neck and tell him you asked for it.”

You went to the door and he was close behind. He reached past you and opened the door so that it hit the wall. He grabbed the back of your neck and dragged you inside. He kicked the back of your legs so that they collapsed and he forced you down to the ground as bent over you.

“I know why the king keeps you, whore,” he spat, “He will tire of you soon and I will delight in throwing you back to the dungeons.” He pushed until your face met the floor. “When he is done, he might just let me finish breaking you.”

He pushed away from you and flipped you with his foot. He clutched his pommel and sneered down at you as he circled you. His chest puffed out and he stopped sharply on his heel.

“A little rat like you will be back to the gutter soon enough,” he backed away as he seemed tempted to draw his blade. “I’ll make sure of it the next time you stray.”

He slammed the door behind him and it shook in his stead. You laid on the floor, paralysed with adrenaline. You blinked up at the ceiling and breathed at last. You were truly out of your depth.

[organic-guacamole]

showtime

episode 211 let's go

ok first of all, this is the second to last episode guys... I don't even wanna think about how much pain I'll be in after next week's episode

mr mazzara doing the recap-

this is so weird to me and I don't know why

WHY DIDN'T YALL JUST ASK BENJAMIN FOR HELP, THATS LITERALLY HIS THING

is Nini giving out the cards a callback to season 1 when Natalie Bagley said that Nini gave her a card or something on opening night of another musical?

STEPHY AS THE ENCHANTRESS OMG YES

Ricky in the crown gives me Harry styles in that photoshoot vibes

he's so pretty.

ok but why did we never see Ricky and Ashlyn interact before? it's been like 5 seconds and I already love how they bounce off each other and it's just so natural

OH THEY REALLY DON'T HAVE ANY UNDERSTUDIES-

well that explains a lot...

so Ricky fell on top of Ashlyn and all that broke for both of them was their wrist-

insert Jake Peralta *coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool no doubt no doubt no doubt*

of course howie was amazing as the beast, were we expecting anything less??

Ricky is so beautiful and I will not shut up about it....

let me enjoy this before the makeup crew slaps mud on his face.

Nini and Ricky talking to eachother? in a civil manner? wasn't she avoiding him just in the last episode? hm ok

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH THEY CANT EXPRESS THEIR FEELINGS JUST LIKE ME HAHAHAHAHA THIS IS HILARIOUS, WHATS NEXT? THEY CUT EVERYONE OFF CUZ THEY CANT HANDLE EMOTIONS? ...ha

yes Kaden and Rico, my favourite east high boys 🥰

I mean....where's EJ?

THERE HE IS

EJ AND GINA IN THE BACKGROUND... doing something idek

KOURTNEY'S MOM IS BACK YAY

Howie is a shining star, ofc ofc

the smallest fOrk

can't wait to see the fork burst into song about how she deserves more than to be used to eat salad😌

the duster and the bluster.... ok😃

hi Gina!

hi- oh wow I didn't know Robbie Rotten was in this show!!!!!

the portwell look.

that my friends, is a married couple's look✋

GOSH EJ WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU

aww Gina's so excited for this

D word?

Die?

Delicious?

Dom Toretto?

"good, clean fun all alone with someone I dig...a lot"

sir that does not sound very clean to me

SEBLOS

Seb looks so cute standing there next to pope Carlos

DID THEYEY REALLY LIGHT ANTOINE ON FIRE-

I NEED TO SEE THAT

Seb's reading Carlos better than big red read the script in episode 102, this is great development after the "fight"

Kourtney really just made the best outfit for herself and let the rest of them suffer

the way Gina immediately goes to hold on to EJ after the announcement

"tonight we're going to put the U in UTAH"

...

"hey where are you from?"

"TAH"

SEB'S SINGULAR CLAP KILLED ME-

he's officially salt lake city's resident thanos

just wity clapping because for some reason I have a feeling he doesn't know how to snap his fingers...don't ask why

Ms Jenn do you mind encouraging your leads before the show? idk just an idea

pepto bismol product placement smhsmh

those flowers are bigger that big red himself-

*bops along to the opening theme*

that whistle at the end slaps everytime

WHY IS THE AUDIENCE SO MASSIVE

I guess they're all here to see Ms Jenn go on as a fork after Nini decides to *go her own way*

wow i am so funny

so they couldn't do many group scenes cuz of covid, but this 300 person crowd is cool? nice

OO THE VIOLIN GIRL FROM EPISODE 6 IS IN THE ORCHESTRA

HOWIEEEEEE

"Mr Caswell", he said, in the loudest voice possible while backstage at a show that's about to start.

Mazzara what are you trying to pull-

I usually like Benjamin but I don't like his tone

"iS yOuR wHoLe FaMiLy HeRe?" LIKE YOU DON'T ALREADY KNOW THATS A SOFT SPOT FOR EJ

"we've had some good conversations these past few weeks"

right so what's going to happen after you graduate?

what does he think of you not going to Duke?

what did he say about you giving the sweatshirt that's been in the family for 3 generations to a girl you're not even dating?

good old Mr. M

therapist Mr. Mazzara, they all need it.

start with Ricky though.

"Michael Bowen"

dude why did you shave, now you look less like "hot lumberjack" and more "creep at the gas station"

OH-

does she not like Mike anymore?

why does it sound like jennzzara started dating and now they just sit back and talk smack about everyone in their freetime

break the fourth wall-

uhhhh im scared

why am I scared

he's scary

hehe flowers for Ricky, obviously for Ricky, ObViOuSLY

oh boy poor Michael

this man is in love, rip

why does Ms Jenn always look at people with her eyes open so wide

LILYYYY

I'm only excited because I really like the idea of lily and Ricky being friends, nothing more.

ha this guy's got jokes

a MOAT AROUND THE SCHOOL

wheeze

also he's very pretty.

"the wolves and very talented humans"

how dare he forget to mention the very talented wolves and normal humans, smh erasure

"being nice, what a concept" ted talk by Lily who still doesn't have a last name

did she just say lol out loud

same with the hug emoji last episode-

go touch some grass babes

the way he didn't say no, but said he didn't know how the east high kids would react-

not saying he does want to date her but that's an interesting thing to think about, also another thing to write an essay analysis on just to leave it in my drafts for a few months

awww lily genuinely trying to help him

sorry guys, I've been taken by the Lily charm (didn't know it existed until now but oh well)

REMEMBER WHEN I SAID I'LL NEVER SHIP PORTWELL?

just look at me now

the Lily wink I can't she's so cute-

HELP ME I'M BEING HELD HOSTAGE BY LIL-

David Attenborough?

oh nvm it's Benjamin narrating the show in a really weird British accent for some reason.

STEPHY GOT MORE LINES YAY GOOD FOR HER

also is this to show that Nini doesn't care about being the star of the show anymore? the way she's supporting everyone else even though she's a fork?

I would pay for a special of the full musical ngl

OOO THE TRANSFORMATION WAS SMOOTH

shockingly

yo where did the makeup come from

man I wish I was a theatre kid

THIS IS STEPHY'S EPISODE NOW IDC✋

my girl is starring

"needs an X-factor"

Simon Cowbell creeps in

"it's a yes from me"

and them boom, he takes Nini and mistreats her horribly and then she comes back to theatre after deciding music isn't for her👍

"I thought she just hog-tied him?"

don't ask sebby, it's better if you don't know.

imagine they spotlight the wrong person and this dude is just some random person that likes writing down stuff during shows.

Ms Jenn just let them do what they rehearsed (at some point we never saw) or else this is gonna end horribly wrong

"help"

same Carlos, same

I love how seb is just his translator rn

I thought he said "great displeasure" instead of "greatest pleasure"....help?

big red coming out from throwing up to see his girlfriend star is the cutest thing in this show.

Ash and Gina dancing is so fun

I'm imagining them practicing at night at their home, watching the movie for the 100th time and making sure their one dance together is perfect

KOURTNEY YES

HOWIE IS IN LOVE AHHHH

I LOVE HOWIE SO MUCH

SEBBY

THIS SCENE HAS SO MUCH GOING ON I CAN'T KEEP UP

THIS IS SO GOOD

HOW???

no because I'm actually crying

I'm dead serious.

we need this musical released as a special

big red is so proud and I love to see it

Natalie: "if you do not by at least 20 dollars in concessions, you do not support art"

rando in the audience: "but I pay for ad free Spotify"

Mr Mazzara clapping in the distance

Gigi, the guy you like is talking to you, complimenting you and hyping you up

YOU LUCKY LITTLE FEATHER DUSTER

aw EJ teasing her about the chocolates in a way that doesn't make her feel bad? take notes Richard

JORDAN FISHER

there is no rest of the show idc Jordan is it for me

THE WIG CAP ON RICKY OMG

they look like they're high and having "deep" conversations on the floor

THE MEAN GIRL WITH THE EYES-

@sunshine-julie-molina YOU HEAR THAT

Natalie really just be coming for them all

Howie what is happening rn

I'm scared

"did you enjoy it"

"very much"

dude wants a kiss so bad

ASHLYN OMG

NO DON'T DO IT BECAUSE OF LILY, PUT YOUR OWN TWIST ON IT

I want a Jordan autograph please

just keep swim- oh pushing...

Gina is literally a giant next to him and I live for it

am I about to cry for the 3rd time in this episode?

yes.

Ricky's leg kicks under the table makes me so happy aw

the portwell glances will kill me.

ah yes, mashed potato snow

Mr. M.... I'm not a theatre kid but even I know you can't have your phone on backstage.

Howie please just do it

CHIP'S BIG LINE I CANT

I LITERALLY HAD TO PAUSE IT AMD SCREAM INTO MY MASK FOR A SOLID 2 MINUTES (I'm not at home rn) HES SO CUTE

oh ok bye Jordan

oo tea

NOT HIM BEING STARSTRUCK BECAUSE HE'S MEETING HIS FUTURE BROTHER IN LAW-

"we're all just glad Gigi has a big brother figure in her life"

excuse me for a few thousand hours while I laugh hysterically

THE CAMERA ZOOM ON EJS FACE AND EVERYTHING-

STOP EJ LOOKS LIKE HE'S GONNA CRY BUT I CAN'T TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY WITH THE STAGE MAKE-UP

someone else said this already but I think it's hilarious that they had to bring in 2 guest characters to create some portwell angst

omg this really is Cici's episode, found family is their thing

elevator music lol

I'm gonna bet that big red took the harness for his surprise for Ashlyn without realising what it was

did Ms. Jenn just....tell her most mentally unstable student....to commit suicide....on a disney show...was that....I'm very....well....what the actual-

oh and there she goes running off instead of trying to make it right

oh wow Nini's the hero, she's gonna save the show 🤩

😐

the judge is doing a sudoku

honestly if I went to the hsm show as well, I'd come prepared for this one too

Lily why are you looking like that-

I WAS JUST STARTING TO LIKE YOU DON'T MESS THIS UP

wow ok, there goes that.

omg

what if Howie was acting weird because he knew what Lily did and wanted to tell Kourtbut Lily threatened him so he was scared to-

anyways see y'all clowns next week when we all simultaneously lose all motivation for the week without Fridays to look forward to.

[ghostxofxartemis]

It’s a few days late, but here’s day 6: Pet Day for MerWeek2021 hosted by @cactuarkitty.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard Characters: Male Shepard (Mass Effect), Kaidan Alenko, Kaidan Alenko’s Mother, Dog Additional Tags: Fluff, Pet Day, MERweek2021 Series: Part 6 of MERweek 2021 Summary:

Describe or draw a special moment with your beloved pet/s. Could be special time spent together or shared time with friends/family. Let’s have fun with our furry (or not so furry) friends :)

Shoutout to @mallaidhsomo for betaing! Thanks hon!

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

Kaidan straddles Axel, and slowly starts kneading the knots from the younger man’s back.

“Hmmm, morning to you too.” Axel mumbles, sleep still invading his mind.

“How’d you sleep?” Kaidan asks him as he deep massages Axel’s shoulders.

“Rock solid. You know, I could get used to this.”

“Well, don’t get too used to it ‘cause I’m shipping out this morning for a month.” Kaidan’s hands trail down Axel’s back until they reach his rear and he kneads both cheeks. He smirks when the younger man closes his eyes, a content smile creeps up his face and Axel moves his hips from under him.

“I know you’re leaving, and I really don’t want you to…but… hmm…this feels good.”

Kaidan leans forward and brings his lips down just a breath’s hair away from Axel’s ear. “I’m just getting started.”

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

Axel fills up his coffee mug and leans on the counter to take a sip as he waits for his breakfast currently in the microwave. Kaidan comes down the stairs, skipping a step each time, duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He’s going to be gone for next month and it’s something Axel dreads, being home alone, while still on the mend, and while not being able to do very much makes the time go by painfully slow. He grabs the coffee thermos on the counter, all ready to go, for his husband.

“I’m running late.” Kaidan plants a kiss on his husband’s cheek before accepting the offered thermos.

“I wonder why?” Axel gives him a coy smile. He gets a scowl in return. Kaidan starts to pull away but Axel manages to grab a handful of material from his uniform. “Hey. You’re not leaving without giving a proper kiss, are you?”

Kaidan leans in and Axel’s lips curve upwards at one side of his mouth. He makes a content sound when Kaidan’s luscious lips meet his. Kaidan presses his tongue against the other man’s lips and Axel let’s it slide between his. They part after a brief moment, breathless, foreheads pressed together. Kaidan tilts his head backwards slightly so his lips can reach Axel’s forehead and kisses it before pulling away slightly.

“I sent my mother your PT schedule.”

“K-” Axel starts to protest.

“You have to go to them.” Kaidan doesn’t look at him and his lips twitch slightly at the corners.

“Kaidan…” Axel groans.

“And I knew you were going to protest so I made sure my mother’s going to drive you to each appointment.”

Axel’s protest is a deep throaty growl.

Kaidan only smirks as he looks at him, giving him a coy look. “I love you. Be good while I’m gone.” He pecks his husband on the cheek one last time before heading out the door.

It’s going to be a lonely four weeks.

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

Plate in hand, Axel heads out on the deck to enjoy his breakfast and coffee. Just when he’s about to sit down, he hears a whimper, one of pain. He’s pretty certain it didn’t come from him. Despite feeling like a rusty piece of junk metal, he wasn’t one to complain about his injuries. He puts his coffee down on the table, and listens carefully when he hears it again. It’s coming from under the deck.

He holds his plate in one hand and the railing with the other as he takes one step at a time. When he reaches the bottom level, he takes a knee carefully and then the other, then goes down on all fours to look under the deck where he finds the owner of the whimpering noise.

“Hey buddy. You lost?”

The dog growls at him, and he chuckles.

“Not the friendly type are we? Or are we having a bad day?”

Shifting himself into a sitting position, he rips a piece of the blueberry pancake and tosses it under the deck.

“Or maybe we’re just hungry?”

Without having any experience with dogs before, he really can’t tell what could possibly be the issue with the dog at the moment. One thing he does know; it might take a while to coax it from under the deck. I’ve got time buddy, lots of time.

Axel looks away, taking a few slow bites of  his pancakes, and looks out to the ocean that’s calm in the horizon on this fine morning. When he looks back under the deck, the small piece of pancake is gone.

“It’s good uh? My husband made ‘em. Doesn’t want me on my feet too much while I’m recovering. We’re probably the same as you and I. Hurting?” He picks up a strip of bacon, biting off a big piece and tossing the rest under the deck. He watches as the dog takes tentative steps forward, sniffing the bacon and picking it up before hiding again.

“You’re gonna be like that.” Axel says as he bites into another one of his bacon strips and licks his fingers. 

The dog looks up at Axel with pleading eyes after it finishes eating the strip of bacon and Axel chuckles. He tosses another strip of bacon and another piece of his pancake before he finishes off his plate.

“I’d stick around a little more but err…Ma’s gonna be here soon to take me to PT. But er…” he grunts as he gets up to his feet, his hip protesting against the movement. “How ‘bout I get you a bowl of water. It’s going to get warm today.”

He makes his way back up the stairs and back to the kitchen when he hears the front door opening.  He pokes his head out of the kitchen and lifts a finger to warn his mother-in-law he’ll just be another a minute. Opening the cupboard doors to all the dishes, he grabs a bowl and heads to the sink to fill it up with water.

“I’m running a little behind, are you almost ready?”

“There’s a dog under the deck.”

“What?”

“Yeah, there’s a dog under the deck.”

“How did it get there?” Helena asks as she takes the bowl of water from Axel’s hands.

“I’ve no idea, but it must have been in the middle of the night because it wasn’t there yesterday, or I would have heard it. It was whimpering pretty bad. It’s not ready to come out though.”

Helena makes her way to the deck while Axel leans his back against the counter. “Sometimes it takes them a little bit to warm up to people, especially if they’ve been mistreated or dropped off somewhere.”

“Why would anyone do that?” Axel’s brows narrow in confusion. He’s never had pets other than his hamster and his fish, but he could never see himself hurting them. His hamster was able to be brought back home, but he made Kaidan promise to take care of his fish in his…no… now Kaidan’s captain quarters on the SR2. As much as he wanted to bring them back home, they just didn’t have the space to have an aquarium that size, despite having even more space in their home.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”  She purses her lips and shrugs her shoulders as if to say I don’t know and makes her way down the stairs.

It doesn’t take her long to drop off the bowl and make her way back up the stairs. “I’ll get some dog food at the store and some peanut butter while at your appointment.” She tells him as they make their way to the front door.

Axel opens the passenger door of the skycar. “Peanut butter?”

Helena chuckles as she gets in the car and starts the engine as she closes her door. Axel climbs in the passenger seat, closing the door shut. “I keep forgetting you’re new to the whole animal thing. Yes, peanut butter. Dogs love it for some reason.”

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

Week 2.

Axel grabs a bottle of water, a spoon, a fork, the container of peanuts, and his reheated dinner outside with him. Somehow managing to juggle all items in his hands and under his armpit as he holds onto the railing going down the stairs, grumbling to himself how he can’t wait for his legs to have the stability they used to have. Soon, hopefully.

Sitting down on the grass, he puts the water bottle down and his dinner. He notices the food he put in the bowl this morning had hardly been touched. He untwists the lid to the peanut butter and scoops it up with the spoon. So far, the dog has stayed out of arm’s reach, but Axel has managed to get it to eat from the spoon in his hands the last couple of days. It’s progress. He stretches his arm out and waits for the dog to approach. The dog approaches tentatively and slowly licks the peanut butter from the spoon. “Atta boy. I don’t know if you’re a boy, but I’m going to call you that for right now. Just easier. Hope you don’t mind.”  The dog looks up at him and licks his snout. “It’s good, uh? I’m just going to put this down on the ground so I can eat as well.” Slowly, he lays the spoon on the grass.

He takes the lid off his container containing his dinner, and takes a bite.

He cracks open the lid to the water bottle and takes a good swig out of it before grabbing the dog’s bowl. He tosses the old water and pours the fresh water into and places it by the dog.

“I’ll be back tomorrow little guy.”

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

Week 3.

A victory for Axel today when he feels the bump of a cold wet nose against his hand. He doesn’t move though. He lets the dog come to him on its own terms. He’s done such extensive research in the past few weeks that he’s happy his patience is starting to pay off. It’s been a fascinating way to spend the weeks outdoors and still manage to keep his promise to his husband while avoiding any hard physical activities that he is yet to get cleared for.

He spends his day outside, only going in to get some food occasionally and to use the washroom a couple times. He makes sure to bring the peanut butter in the evening when he knows it’s his last time coming out for the day. He makes sure the dog has food and water for the night.

The process is gradual for the rest of the week. But on Friday, the dog nudges Axel’s arm with his snout and sits beside him. Tucked under his arm. Axel pets the tuft of fur on the dog’s chest, a smile forming at the corners of his lips.

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

Week 4.

Axel is sitting on the bottom step of the staircase. He puts a dog treat on the grass right in front of it. He shimmies up one step.

So far, he’s managed to get the dog to trust him enough to allow him to pet it. But the evenings are getting colder and he wants to get the dog inside. There’s no way he was going to let it get stranded outside in September. He hates how the weather changes so drastically from day to night.

He places another treat on the second last bottom of the stairs and shimmies up another. He keeps doing this until he reaches the very top of the stairs.

The sound of the patio door opening makes him jump slightly.

“Axel? What are you doing? And why is there a bag of dog food on the counter?” 

He’s been so focused on the dog this last month he forgot his husband was scheduled to be home today. Shit. He wanted to make dinner to surprise Kaidan. He curses at himself for being so distracted, but answers the question.

“I found a dog under our deck. It’s really apprehensive so I’ve been just slowly coaxing it out. Trying to get him inside.”

“A dog? How long has it been there?” Kaidan sits next to Axel. He puts a hand on the younger man’s thigh and pecks his cheek.

“Found him the day you left.”

Kaidan rests his head on Axel’s shoulder. “Been doing this since I left?”

He kisses the crown of Kaidan’s head, “Yeah.”

“You sure it’s a him?”

“I saw his ballsack.”

Kaidan chuckles.

The dog pokes his head around the railing, taking the treat before retreating back behind the stairs. Slowly, it comes back for more and slowly climbs the stairs. When it reaches half way, Kaidan and Axel retreat inside the house, but keep the door open.

About an hour later the dog finally comes inside, running towards Axel, tongue lolling It’s rewarded with head scratches and a kiss on the forehead. His black floppy ears, his bright blue eyes, the white dots on his black nose, and splotches of caramel in his white fur just made him too adorable to resist not petting him.

“Kai. Can we keep him?” Axel looks up at Kaidan, puppy eyes and all.

Kaidan contemplates a moment and Axel is sure is about to refurse, “Sure. I mean you’re alone a lot, he could be excellent company for those long periods I’m gone. Did you name him?”

“Naw. I don’t know what’s a good name for a dog.”

Kaidan smirks, “Mako.”

“I feel like this is a jab at me.”

“You’ll never know.”

“It’s a jab isn’t it? Kaidan…”

Kaidan guffaws on his way out of the kitchen.

[eureka-its-zico]

Nothing Like Us

Part 1         Part 2

A/N: So this is actually part 3 of a series I decided to do, because a certain person loved these little one shots I made after songs Jungkook sang renditions of. This is the third part of that and the ending. I’ll go ahead and tag the original two on here if anyone is interested. I tried editing this as much as I could while at work and no matter what I did, it couldn’t make me happy. As always, I hope you all enjoy this little piece of fiction. Love, Jenn

Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 4115

Genre: Angst x Fluff(ish)

It was cruel the way the universe placed him perfectly under the halo of the streetlight. The luminescence cascading over a face you’d dreamed of for months; you’d grieved. No matter how much your heart hurt you knew underneath was a monster of rage brewing below it’s depths. The ache in your chest a colossal power that swelled, the waves of grief crashing against you, until it threatened to consume you. When it finally did, it choked your sobs free from your throat with an angry fist. 

You counted out hours. Days. Weeks. Stopped counting when weeks turned into full fledge months. Things that you’d spoken in the confines of your mind were now being spoken out loud on brave days to the silent audience of your room. There were days your sadness turned to anger. White hot and blinding: so pure you swore it could’ve torn buildings down to the mortar.

How could Jungkook completely stop talking to you? Seeing you? How could it be possible to not wake up looking for texts from each other or sharing meals together, ending with him still being hungry, because Jungkook was an endless pit. One you happily shared food with just to see him move his shoulders in giddy shakes with every bite.

No one should be able to move on from birthdays where the two of you eagerly watched the other open their gift. Just to let out an unknown sigh of relief at the happiness the present brought. Why was it even possible to let years of knowing become nothing more than fading memories?

You’d spent months wondering these things and in all of them you imagined what it would be like if you ever saw him again. Not on TV. Not your phone from YouTube or Instagram. Saw him the way only the two of you’d shared together. A part of you willing to bet you’d scream at him or yell. Maybe you would cry. 

No.

Now with Jungkook a mere few feet away all you could feel was an all consuming need to run to him. A feverish fear heated up your skin at the idea he could turn around and be gone in an instant; nothing more than a phantom of longing you’d created just to see his face. But you knew it was him without ever needing to take another step off the small landing of your porch. 

The sounds of the night continued to swell between the sea of pavement between you. Neither of you made a move towards the other. No one moving a finger, as if you shared in the fear if either of you even took a breath it would scare the other away. 

Your mind continued to be lost in its endless debate on whether to  go to him or to remain motionless. The shoebox and its contents falling flat onto the floor and the only letters scribbled on a photo of you running in tall grass that you’d read flashed over and over: “ I wish I would’ve kissed you first.”

Your mind played them on repeat until your head spun. Your thoughts stuck on his opening words and one of the dozens of photos that accompanied many more. The second one you’d pulled being the first time you’d gone ice skating together. The memory joyous and painful all at once. Your mind was still trying to recover on what to do; your eyes watching him bury his hands deeper inside the pockets of his coat. His gaze hoovering on your figure before he turned and began to move back down the street; leaving you again. 

“Jungkook!”

You weren’t aware you were off your porch until you felt your feet moving rapidly down the steps. Your legs burning trying to keep up with the sudden furious pace of your panic. Even then, your lungs were still able to carry enough air for you to continue to scream his name. It didn’t matter if he, your neighbors, or anyone else could hear your pain; the frenzied way you called his name religiously to get him to stop. 

Your heart skipped for a split second when he finally did. Jungkook’s body rigid as you came closer to his back while he continued to face away from you. You didn’t know if he was dreading the knowledge that you were coming closer. You had no way to tell if he was just as frantic to see you or wanted nothing to do with you.  

It could all be a painful accident that you’d seen him outside your door. He could’ve just been passing through and somehow forgot he just so happened to be in your neighborhood. You knew, it was none of those. Jungkook, some part of him, must miss you or why else would he even be here? 

“Jungkook?”

God. How small your voice sounded. How hopeful. 

Still, Jungkook would not answer you; wouldn’t bother to glance in your direction. Suddenly, your tongue felt like lead in your mouth. Sour and weighed down by a fear tinged regret at showing your hand at how much you’d missed him. When he had shown you nothing. 

You’d grown accustomed to disappoint, however, and braced yourself for what you did next. If Jungkook wouldn’t turn to face you, then you would simply half to walk around to face him. When you were a quarter of the way around, a timid hand reached out to lightly grab at the fabric of his jacket. 

You had that sudden sensation again of being lost at sea, in need of something to keep you from drowning, with Jungkook being your only shore for miles. 

Jungkook hadn’t expected you to touch him and his body gave a noticeable jolt at your touch. It didn’t deter you. You were now in front of him and could see the pain etched into every line of his features. It was evident he was close to tears as your eyes drank him in. Jungkook was the one person you’d known who’d always been so certain. The man standing before you now looked as lost as you felt, and it all felt more than you could take. Your hand was still holding onto him, but now it felt like maybe Jungkook needed to feel your touch just as much as you’d needed to touch him. 

“Jungkook,” you whispered. “It really is you.” 

He didn’t answer you. His eyes diverted to look everywhere but where you stood before him. It was driving you crazy. Did you not deserve to have his full attention after all this time? Didn’t you deserve that, at least?

Jungkook wasn’t pulling away from you yet, and it seemed like he didn’t want to take the steps to remove you from him. So how could he continue to act like you weren’t there?

In a blur of sparked rage your gentle hand on his arm released and shoved into his chest. All that anger and weak attempts to hate him spewed back up to make you lash out in all the ways you’d dreamed about doing. 

“Why come here if you can’t speak to me, huh? Did you come just to hurt me more!? Is this some kind of game to you?”

You hurled your words at him and watched as they struck home. All the frustration and tears you’d thought you’d shed came flooding back like a monsoon. You weren’t able to control the tears from streaming hot and raw against your cheeks. Jungkook eyes now hopelessly transfixed on you as you moved forward to shove against him. His hands easily reached out to take hold of your shoulders and kept you firmly in place. The movement caused you both to be only a few inches apart, and oh how you hated the small amount of distance between you. 

“I never wanted to hurt you in the first place, Y/N!”

His admission made you go rigid mimicking like he had earlier. The pain in his gaze quieted the last remaining fire of your anger. Instead, what rose up felt even worse. You’d missed him so much. He was still jungkook: your Jungkook, but different now. His features carved out from that baby softness to now show a more mature him. Your hands registering easily that his lean frame had grown thicker with muscles. The muscle bunny he’d always wanted to be. Looking up at him now your lips came alive with the memory of him and you hated yourself for that. 

“Then why did you leave me alone in the park, Kook? You never answered a phone call or a text. You didn’t even try. You let me go.”

The despair your parting words held hit home like a hammer. All this time you felt like you were missing a part of yourself. A phantom limb. Jungkook was that limb. Being so close to him you knew there wasn’t ever any doubt. He was much a part of you as your own self and standing there with him felt like it’d finally come home. 

You were so lost in your sadness that when he released your shoulders and embraced you, a small shriek of surprise left you. It was an embarrassing noise. One Jungkook knew would ultimately leave you blushing into his chest; the same chest that vibrated with laughter.

A part of you wanted to stay upset with him. To demand what was so funny, but even you could feel a smile curl your lips and the tension in your shoulders ease as you found comfort against him. 

You couldn’t stop your hands from pinching at his ticklish sides and playfully demand, “What was so funny?”

“You always did sound like the tiniest mouse when you were scared.”

Jungkook pressed his lips against your hair as he spoke. The intimacy of it sending a breath of  goosebumps along your skin.

“This is about you abandoning me not my odd noises.”

Your words came out in mumbles with your mouth still pressed into his chest. If you wanted to be more serious about the issue you would’ve pulled away from him, but your arms were helplessly glued around him. The heavy sigh that escaped Jungkook’s lips sent your hair fluttering, and you knew he wasn’t letting go either. 

“I know. It’s just easier to talk about how cute your noises are than about what happened.”

“Fair enough.”

You risked moving just enough to look around. It was close to eleven-thirty when you’d heard his knock on the door. The time now closer to midnight or after; the night is perfect to hide you both. But you couldn’t risk people walking by and gawking if one of you had an outburst. Besides, something so private deserved no audience. Even from the night herself. 

Reluctantly, you stepped back from him. Your hand beginning to reach out to take his own. You nodded in the direction of your apartment in hopes he would understand where you were wanting to go. 

“Come on. I think it’s safer if we just talk inside.”

Jungkook gave a simple nod that he agreed. His gaze wandered down to your hands as you began to take the few steps back to your home. Neither of you spoke as you walked to your front door. The only time you stopped was to pick up the box you’d discarded on your stoop. 

The silence continued to follow you both to your front door. Your fingers moved quickly to type in the code to enter with the sound of the deadbolt sliding home seconds later to allow you entrance. The two of you headed inside; your body resting on the door to hold it open for Jungkook to enter. 

You watched the careful way his feet carried him over the threshold. His eyes roaming around the small studio apartment, taking in everything he could as he came to a stop inside the hallway. Your apartment was a messy thing to behold.Books in towers, clothes hung up on makeshift closet racks, and the wall of art. 

A part of you wondered how long it would take him to realize what exactly it was that decorated that particular wall. This small shrine to a time when everything seemed so simple. Jungkook moved to remove his shoes, his head still looking up to take in an apartment he’d never seen, when his eyes lit up with the realization of what it was he was looking at. His gaze fixated on the wall of drawings and paintings. Every single one signed in the form of bunny ears and exaggerated initials. 

His eyes were so engrossed on them that he fumbled in taking off his shoes. So distracted he was by it that he fumbled, in a goofy dance, while trying to remove his shoes. His eyes on something he deemed more important. 

“You - you put up all the art I’d given you.”

His voice was little more than a whisper of wonder. Jungkook finally taking his eyes off the wall to look back at you. Appreciation brightening up all the features of his face until he practically glowed. 

Your nerves were beginning to fade as his attention was now falling back on you. Your free hand digging down into the pockets of your dress, the other tightening around the box in a weak attempt to stop them from fidgeting. You knew if you began to talk, they would fly around everywhere. A tell-tale sign that Jungkook knew meant you were two syllables away from stuttering. 

“Of course I did, Jungkook. You gave me one during every single holiday. Why would I throw them away?”

“We haven’t seen each other in years, Y/N, and yet, you kept these.”

You allowed yourself a brief moment to prepare yourself for what came next. Sure, you needed to take off your shoes but could’ve done so easily while still talking to him, but you needed to look away from him. To gather your wits and fight off the ache that swelled viciously back in your chest. Your fingers gingerly moving to touch along the lid of the box and reminding yourself what was inside. 

“Just because we ended...whatever it was that we were, Kook, doesn’t mean I would throw them all away. One bad moment couldn’t possibly diminish all the good ones.”

It was Jungkook’s turn to stand there with a face that told you plainly he didn’t believe you. A sad smile was the last thing you saw before his eyes turned to the floor. His own hands now deeply planted inside the pockets of his sweater. 

“I guess you’re right.”

“I am right,” you replied with certainty. It earned you a snort as he brought his face back up to look at you. 

The length of his hair hide his face from perfect view. Only allowing a small curtain to part just enough to allow one eye to peek through. 

“Let’s sit and talk about this. Ok?” 

You put the small box in front of you and gave it a good shake for good measure. Just in case there was anything else he randomly thought you wanted to speak about, but Jungkook knew. 

The two of you moved in silence towards the couch. When you sat down you somehow ended up both together, barely inches apart. The way you always used too when you had to share. A hidden air that nothing had changed between you when, of course, everything had. 

The box sat in your lap while your fingers drummed out a beat against the worn cardboard. Your body painfully aware of how close he was; closer than he ever used to sit before the kiss. This was ridiculous. It was just Jungkook - a much more grown, somehow even more handsome, version of the boy you kissed out there on the grass. 

You willed yourself to turn and look at him. Your breath hitching in your throat in surprise a second after. Jungkook was already staring at you. His gaze mapping out the contours of your face like he would save them to memory. As if he wasn’t sitting right beside you. His hand moved out to rest on the top of the box. His fingers grazing over yours making their way to its edge, and gently began to open it. 

“At first,” he began, voice breathless beside you, “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me. I wasn’t even sure if you’d take this.” His hand moved to open up the box, exposing the contents inside little by little. “The time we spent apart left me to think a lot about our time together. The memories we made. The ones I treasure.”

As Jungkook spoke his hand moved the dozen of photos around inside the box. You thought maybe he was just stirring them up; a way for him to fidget while he talked. He proved you wrong when his fingers snagged a photo he’d been searching for: a photo Yoongi had taken. You’d gone out with them to grab a bite to eat after they’d finish learning a new choreography. Taeyhung came along and Yoongi played the adult chaperon. 

Tae teased Jungkook relentlessly with a chant that he had a crush on you. When Tae had first started his teasing, every time his words went without a denial from Jungkook your heart felt like it was ready to burst. You could still feel the heat on your cheeks that you desperately tried to hide so he wouldn’t see. The time came eventually though, when Jungkook would answer him, and when he finally did your swelling heart began to break. 

“She’s my best friend, Tae.You can’t crush on your friends, anyways.”

You were so caught up in the memory you didn’t see when Jungkook had turned the photo around. Exposing the stark white of the back that was now covered in a letter of writing. 

“This day was the first day that I lied about us.” Jungkook said, his voice barely above a whisper now. So light you felt like you needed to lean in even closer just to hear him. “Taehyung was just embarrassing me so much and I thought if I denied it, he would leave it alone. But the truth is, I did have a crush on you.”

Jungkook’s words fell away into a backdrop of noise. You tried your best not to let your emotions carry you away from reason. You promised yourself all you wanted was an explanation to what happened between you, but you felt yourself breaking that promise as your eyes scanned over the back of the photo. 

“I told you I didn’t have a crush. I spoke it so loudly; I almost made myself believe it. But the rest of the time at dinner all I could recall was the way your face lit up with laughter. How you offered up extra food for us to take home for everyone else…

                But Mostly I remember how you looked

          At me 

               And I knew then: you were my happy place”

The tears you told yourself you wouldn’t shed pricked mercilessly to be released. Your head turning just enough to really take him in, and wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Jungkook already looking back. His hand now discarding the photo back inside the box and reached up to rest the palm of his hand on your cheek. And just like that, the first tear fell as yours eyes closed and you nuzzled into the feel of his hand. 

“Jungkook-“

“I needed to write down these moments for you to keep. The things I was too scared to say in fear of ruining what we had. You deserve to know, Y/N that I love you. The way you loved me, cared for me, has stayed with me for so many years.”

You were now only inches apart. So close if Jungkook really wanted he could have breathed you to him. You were both looking at one another, but there were moments you both stopped; your eyes falling to the others lips. The two of you so damn close, and yet your body was close to freezing up. The hidden panic of being rejected again keeping you from going those extra few inches. 

Jungkook’s thumb lightly moved across your cheek. The same painstakingly slow movement like when his eyes traced your face earlier. Committing this moment to his memory with the chance that you would pull away; deny him. How could you ever deny him? Didn’t this idiot know how much you loved him?

“Y/N.”

“Yes.”

Your voice was raspy from disuse. Your tongue licking across what felt like the desert now resided on your lips. And of course, Jungkook’s eyes hungrily ate up every flick of your tongue. 

“Would you allow me a redo of our first kiss?”

You wanted to scream at him, “Of course you idiot! Just do it and stop teasing!”

In reality, you stayed quiet. The only answer you were able to give a soft nod of your head. Jungkook’s face lit up like a firework, literally the bloom of your yes made his features light up in phases until the glow it created was absolutely breathtaking. The smile you’d witnessed a thousand times now felt brand new all over again; especially in the way it made your body feel like you were floating. 

You felt your lungs hold in the last breathe you took, a kidnapper of air, as you helplessly began to wait for him to make his move. The ugly sadness of the last few years began to try and rear its ugly head once more. Whispers about his lack of movement causing the fear of doubt to spring into your chest. You wanted so badly to put it out until it spread, but you were so accustomed to that voice you weren’t sure how you could ever defeat it. 

And in the span of a millisecond, Jungkook filled that last bit of space between you. His lips brushed against yours in a soft caress; waiting for you to move in those last few inches. He didn’t need to wait long before your body turned to fully face him. Your hands losing their previous grip on that shoebox, full of memories as love notes, and instead curled into the soft cotton of his sweatshirt. 

It was all the answer Jungkook needed to deepen the kiss. The soft caress of earlier turning more frantic; his other hand moving to mimic the other. Both holding each side of your face to tilt it up just right to meet his hungry lips. The kiss was now fueled by a desire that had long been suppressed between you. A feeling  like he would consume you from the mouth down, and you were more than willing to let him. 

A soft moan escaped your lips that somehow  broke this spell that had overtaken you both. He pulled away just enough, enough to show a satisfied smirk curl his lips, as he placed his forehead against yours. 

“Well, I would say that went better than expected.”

“And what were you expecting?”

You were still trying desperately to slow your racing heart. To not be consumed in the moment but ultimately found yourself reminiscing about the girl that day in the park. Who was so afraid to take that leap, and looking at Jungkook now you just wanted to tell her that the choice she made to take it was the best thing she’d ever done. 

“To be honest,” he said between another peek to your lips, “I had this terrible fear you would just throw me out.”

“I mean I still could,” you teased. 

Jungkook’s hands finally moved down from your face allowing you enough time to notice his body wasn’t the only thing that had changed.

“You have tattoos now!” You gawked. 

A breath of laughter escaped him as he looked down into his lap, at his right hand, and back at you. 

“Quite a few, actually.”

“Wow. It seems there’s a lot we’re going to have to catch up on.”

“I totally agree.”

Silence enveloped around you as you both began to work into a nervous dance. Neither of you exactly knew where it was supposed to go from here or the steps to get from point A to B. I mean, where did you begin? Did you go right into talking about the last year or so? New hobbies? 

Luckily, Jungkook saved you again as he leaned in and planted a lingering kiss on your lips. When he pulled away that sly smirk was back as he asked, “Would it be okay if we kissed a little while longer?” 

A smile of your own spread wide across your face. Your reply a sweet kiss against his lips.

[mmvalentine]

Circus of Dreams, pt 4 | Feysand

Night Circus AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

In the end, no one came that first day. Rhys was not altogether surprised, it wasn't the first time it had happened and it certainly would not be the last.

Despite the lack of crowds, the day was not all bad. Sure, he had spent most of the day pacing his tent alone, but the minutes dancing with Feyre... well he wasn't sure when the last time he'd had that much fun was.

So, at the end of the day, when their official closing time hit and he was free to go back to his caravan, he was in a good mood and whistled as he walked.

Every night, dinner was served in the largest tent. It was an unkempt, sloppy affair, when performers were ravenous and no one was standing on ceremony. Rhys had rolled up his shirt sleeves joined the long table once he had picked up his serving of stew, and those he sat near nodded their acknowledgement without pausing their meal.

A couple of minutes later, he saw Mor enter the tent with Feyre. The ballgown was gone now, but it looked like Mor had not let her change into her faded old dress. Instead, she had Feyre in simple but elegant black wool skirt, and a soft white shirt tucked into it. They spotted Rhys and headed right to him.

"Evening ladies," he said. "Hello Rhysand, move over," Mor said, wriggling down next to him.

Feyre sat more gingerly opposite them, and Rhys' eyes sparkled at him. "It's a little rough in here," he said. "My apologies." "No," Feyre said, "I'm just surprised at how... different it is in here from out there." Rhys nodded. "We put on a beautiful show," he said, "but at night we're just a big messy family. Relaxing when you're off makes it easier to be fully engaged when you're on." Feyre smiled. "It's nice, actually. Dinners at home mostly consisted of shivering and trying to make soup out of bones." "Well then, dig in," Rhys said, and Feyre, not needing further invitation, did so.

Rhys went to sleep that night full and comfortable. But hours later, he woke to the sound of screams and the smell of smoke.

He burst out of his caravan, scanning the area, and soon found the source of the panic. Mor and Feyre's caravan was on fire, heavy benches propped up against the two doors in the side. Dark figures ran off into the night.

"You're not welcome here!" one of them shouted as he ran. Cassian took off after them, but Rhys dove toward the doors. He became aware of Amren beside him, and reached Feyre's door at the same time as Amren shoved aside the bench and yanked open Mor's. They hauled the girls out, coughing and spluttering, and dragged them away from the smoking wagon before letting them rest on the grass. A few of the others had run for buckets of water to douse the flames.

"What in the fuck was that?" Amren snapped. She was looking around furiously, propping Mor up while she searched for answers. Rhys didn't say anything, just sat grimly with Feyre as she continued coughing and checked her over for injuries. Someone ran up with water for them, and to report that the fire was now out.

Soon after, Cassian walked back into the camp, and in each of his hands was the collar of a young man. They dangled in his grip, resentment written over their faces.

"I found these," Cassian growled, addressing Amren. "And two cans of kerosene to boot." She stood, and looked them both over with disgust. "Just what in the hell do you think you're playing at?" she hissed at them. "People could have died." "Not our people," replied one sullenly. He spat at her feet.

Like lighting, Amren reached out and slapped the boy across the fight. "No," she snarled. "My people." She looked at Cassian.

"Say Cassian. Didn't we pass a big, cold looking river on the way in?" "Yes ma'am, I believe we did," was his reply. "Fantastic. Please toss these miserable excuses for men in said river, and let them know if I catch them around here again I will personally break all of their legs." "Yes ma'am." Cassian nodded, and strode off.

Amren pinched the bride of her nose. "Is everyone alright?" she asked. Mor and Feyre just nodded.

"Oh, Mor," Feyre said suddenly. "Your beautiful fabrics."

But Mor just smiled ruefully at her.

"They're just fabrics," she said. "We'll go in tomorrow and see what's left."

"Right," Amren said. "Morrigan, you can come sleep in my caravan. Feyre, go with Rhysand." She addressed the rest of the camp. "Everyone else go back to sleep. We'll leave first thing in the morning."

And with that, she left them. Mor hugged Feyre tightly, and checked again to see if she was okay. When she had ascertained that she was, she followed after Amren. And the rest of the crowd drifted off back to their caravans too.

"Come on," Rhys said gently, and took Feyre's arm under the elbow to help her up. She leaned on him as they walked, shivering slightly at the shock of what had happened.

Back in Rhys' caravan, Rhys had to help Feyre through the cramped space. He would have lit a candle, but after her ordeal, he thought it might be insensitive. So he guided her through the dark, and led her to the bed. Feyre sat down, then suddenly looked up at him with alarm in her eyes.

"Don't worry," he said. "You have the bed, I'll sleep on the floor."

Feyre looked like she was about to protest, but Rhys whipped out a spare blanket and got down before she could say anything. So, Feyre slid in between his sheets, and the thought of it made him shiver a little. He pushed the thought to the side, and closed his eyes.

A moment later, Feyre's voiced reached out though the dark.

"Rhys?" "Yes Feyre?" "They're not... coming back, are they?"

Rhys sat up. "Oh, darling. No, I shouldn't think so. Amren will have Cassian keep watch all night." "Okay," was all she said. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. What a start to your circus career." Feyre was quiet for a moment. "Thanks for pulling me out," she said. "Of course. I'm just glad we got to you quickly."

There was silence again, and Rhys had just started to drop off to sleep, when Feyre spoke again. "Rhys?" "Yes Feyre?" A pause. "I'm so sorry, I feel so deeply foolish. But I just wanted to check that you were still there." Rhys frowned into the dark. "It's not foolish. You were nearly burned alive in your caravan, I wouldn't sleep well either." "I started to drift off, then for some reason I panicked that you weren't there." "Okay. Would... would you like me to hold your hand?" Another pause. "I think that might help."

Rhys shifted closer to the bed, and tapped the frame so that she would know where his hand was. Immediately, he felt her small grip clutching him. He realised that this was the first time he was touching her without gloves, and the warmth of her skin was lovely.

"Mmm," she murmured. "That does help." Feyre yawned. "Rhys?" "Yes Feyre?" he whispered. "Thank you," she said. And shortly after that, she was asleep.

The next day, Rhys woke with a dead arm, but didn't mind. They left early, everyone a little bleary eyed, but with the scorched caravan still scenting the air with the stale smoke, no one complained as they packed up quickly and headed out of town.

Over in the next village, they set up and asked around for a carpenter to come have a look at the burnt wagon. Mor spent some time sifting through the wreckage, pulling out things that were salvageable. Unfortunately, since the boys had done such a thorough job of dousing the wood in kerosene, even though the fire hadn't burned very long the caravan was now unliveable.

They performed to a modest audience that night, and ate in relative quiet, everyone still a bit unsettled after the attack the previous night. Feyre left early, and when Rhys got back to his caravan, he found her sitting on the front step.

He gave her a gentle smile.

"Hello, Feyre darling," he said. "I... still don't have any place to live," she said by way of greeting. "Yes you do," he said. "You can live here."

Feyre turned and looked at his caravan. "It doesn't seem... very proper," she said slowly. "Well, neither does running away with the circus, and you've done that already." "I suppose that's true," Feyre mused. "If you're uncomfortable, I'm sure we can make other arrangements. Most people live with a partner or friend already, but they can always make room." Feyre shook her head. "I wouldn't want to put anyone out like that. I'm happy to stay if you are happy to have me." She paused. "Or, maybe I should just go home." "Nonsense," Rhys said quickly. "You haven't even seen half the things that need your attention. There's a massive clockwork pony that you would just love."

And so she stayed.

****

OH LOOK I COULDN'T MANAGE 2 DAYS OFF BECAUSE THE TRAFFIC STOPPED AND MY DOPAMINE SUPPLY GOT CUT OFF AND NOW I'M PANIC POSTING why am i like this you guys

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira

[limerental]

First Line

I was tagged by @etcorsolus and I don't usually do these but this one actually seems interesting because I love analyzing my own writing lol.

List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

1. He's been waiting for this his whole life.

2. The ascending path to Tor Lara is lit by a pale sliver of moon, the grass so chilled with dew that the bones of her feet burn.

3. In the dark beneath the blindfold, Geralt flexed each sense like a separate limb as he stepped into the banquet hall.

4. Under a sky bruised by evening with the smoke from the war beyond the hills scattering ash across serene farmland, a scarecrow in a harrowed field dissolved into the shape of a woman, lithe and lean.

5. The apartment was dark and silent when Geralt returned from work.

6. Yennefer appears in the doorway to their study, leaning sensually, the apparent “something special” she had promised Geralt this evening swinging from a crooked finger.

7. The first time anyone took her to bed, there was no approximation of a bed, only a knit blanket laid out in a hollow of stone, and she was not taken so much as led with gentle hands and whispering kisses. 

8. Afterward, it pours seeping rain for a steady week, a deluge that cannot quite rival the monsoons back home.

9. It is fortunate that the Witcher is brought into the throne room on a day when the young Empress is occupied with other courtly tasks and her court mage alone is minding the daily chore of taking audience with the public.

10. There is a rogue mage making quite a stink in Rinde, said the Council as he stood at the cusp of their circle. 

11. “It’s temporary,” said a gravelly, low voice he had never heard carrying that level of nonchalance.

12. In the infant days of their strange relationship, it had taken months of Yennefer’s coaxing and prodding in bed to encourage Geralt to make full use of that mutated strength of his. 

13. “You don’t have to fight anymore,” says the calm voice in the haze of the battleground. 

14. “Ah, cock,” said Jaskier dazedly as he lay in a pile of smoking rubble on the stone floor of the laboratory. 

15. That year, she is late heading north and then later still, cursing the grey swell of snowbank clouds and the ragged tear of a wyvern’s claw that throbs with telltale infection beneath her ribs.

16. Lambert’s silhouette haloed in the glow of the hospital lobby, still and bright and sterile behind him and leaving the little body that folded into itself on the curb featureless in the answering darkness, Eskel’s eyes straining to look at him through the glare.

17. “Oh Regis,” croons the poet who meets him in the entryway, ushering him out of his coat with little tuts and sighs, “oh, you’ve arrived just in time! Just in time. Something’s gone wrong. Just dreadful. Good thing you’ve gotten here.”

18. Yennefer does not intend to kill him.

19. Yennefer was fourteen when she first looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, flecks of toothpaste grimed around the beveled edge, and thought what would I look like with breasts.

20. Her blood remained in the street for a week and a day, a swollen black tar-stain in the dust that boots hallowed and did not touch, and then on the eighth day, the villagers woke to a blue haze of rain that licked the stain red again in rivulets. 

analysis

Looking at this, my first lines tend to immediately establish a setting, focused on sense details of the landscape or environment or I also pretty often start on a line of dialogue that drops you right into a scene. There is usually a character name or reference in the first line or first paragraph so pov is established right away. It's also interesting because you can see how much I write in different tenses.

I usually don't... think too much about opening lines but the old writing adage is to start as close to the end of the story as possible. I was taught to lop off the front half of a story with too much exposition but idk that I have actually done that in years. Looking at these though there are definitely some I would edit.

I'm weirdly fond of #17 because it so quickly establishes the silly vibe and because Jaskier is an idiot. I like #16 but the more i read it, the more it is way too wordy and I could have cut that sentence in half.

I will be actually tagging people for once in my life but I've forgotten everyone I've ever known who writes anything aw beans aw nuts please feel free to do this yourself and claim i tagged you (also WIPs or ficlets count i just didn't count mine). @witchertrashbag @stillmadaboutpetra @some-stars @handwrittenhello @penny-anna

[sunlightwoo]

tag games ✰

here’s just a long post of me continuing on tag games that i’ve been tagged in but haven’t had the time to answer hehe

however if you see this, you’re tagged by me if you haven’t done it already :) and thank you @hyunjaethereal​, @timextoxhajima​​ , @sankyeom​​ , @viastro​​ , @bbangsoonie​​​, @wavesmp3​​​ and @shionwrites​​​ for tagging me ily guys <3

✰ element writer tag ✍️

what element writer are you?

magma writer

Molten rock that still has to surface. You're the perfect mix of fire and earth, and your story shows it, having the best of both worlds. You're the writer that holds fire on their fingertips and kisses their lovers goodbye in the most painful way. You're able to build long stories that burn on the inside. You break the human soul, touching with infinite grace the right cords. You are an artist of the elaborate pain and heavy angst only a constructed and long story can give. If i could see in your eyes, i would be looking at your soul dancing on an unstable floor, flames all around it, to protect it and to forge it. Your love burns hot and infinite inside of you, and sometimes, when it slips out, you're afraid that it could burn too much. But the right people will know how to love you, and every bright tongue of fire your soul is made of. Your stories are the ones that make the world change.

damn no need to hurt me like that

✰ what is your unorthodox love language?

for this one i took it with my friends and it was sharing foods with your loved ones!!

and this really hit home <//3

✰ playlist tag

rules: we’re snooping on your playlist. put your entire music library on shuffle and list the first ten songs and then choose 10 victims.

flag by tbz

sit down by nct 127

after school by weeekly

come back home by 2ne1

good to me by svt

from by ateez

secret story of the swan by iz*one

she’s in the rain by the rose

shoot by itzy

asap by stayc

✰ writer positivity tag 🪴

rules: bold the things that apply to you

I am a talented writer | I have a way with words | I can plan my stories really well | I can improvise my stories really well | I am great at writing realistic dialogue | I can really paint a picture with my words | My writing is very atmospheric | I am great at descriptions | I am great at action | I am great at touching people with my stories | the backstories of my characters are all diverse and I feel like I truly know them | I am great at making a realistic and complex personalities | I really enjoy the character dynamics and relationships in my wips | my main characters aren't always the same | I am great at coming up with gripping beginnings | I am great at coming up with gripping endings | I am great at coming up with titles  | I am in love with my characters and would die for them if they were real | I love how I write animals and mystic creatures | I am great at world-building | I have intriguing and gripping plots | I write amazing character-driven stories | I am great at capturing and keeping the audience's attention | I am persistent even when I want to give up | I'm very organized with my writing notes | I am constantly learning from every story I encounter | I devour books

✰ this or that intimate moments (bold what applys)

love at first sight or slowly growing fond of someone | love letters or mixtapes | hand kisses or kisses on the cheeks | understanding each other without words or finishing each others sentences | gazing into each other’s eyes or looking away blushing | longing to be with someone again or spending every second together | laughing together or crying together | someone run their fingers through your hair or gently playing with your hand | surprise kisses or long tight hugs

✰ aesthetic tag

➼ 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 13/20 (had a hunch)

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

➼ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀 7/20 

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

|➼ 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐘 4/20

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

➼ 𝟕𝟎’𝐒 5/20

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

➼ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 4/20

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

✰ zodiac this or that (i’ll do my big three)

Pisces sun: Aquamarine or Amethyst. Sea Green or Ocean Blue. Tulips or Carnations. Turmeric or Willow Herb. Surfing or Water Skiing. Ocean or River. Poetry or Painting. Dolphins or Whales. Pineapple or Watermelon. Telekinesis or Reality Warping/Illusion powers. Zinfandel or Spiked punches/lemonades. Starfish or Seashells. Healing Crystals or Dreamcatchers. Psychic powers or Water bending/manipulation. Coneflower or Iris. Lighthouse or Watermill. Baby’s breath or Waterlily. Taurus or Capricorn.

Taurus moon: Green or Pink. Malachite or Emerald. Roses or Violets. Thyme or Brasil. Vanilla or Chocolate. Candles or Bath bombs. Painting or Jewelry making. Seduction powers or Enchanted jewerly, treasure, or gemstones. Foxglove or Larkspur. Chocker or Medallion necklaces. Apples or Grapes. Singing or Humming. Elephants or Turtles. Gardening or Shopping. Having a homebody day or Taking a walk in nature. Pinot Noir or Bourbon. Precognition or Manipulating life force. Violin or Lute. Cancer or Pisces.

Virgo rising: Navy Blue or Olive Green. Peridot or Sardonyx. Peony or Sweet Pea. Hops or Rosemary. Chess or Checkers. Carrot Cake or Fig Bar/Cakes/Cookies. Knitting or Crocheting. Grammar Checking/Quality Assurance or Critiquing a piece of work. Golf or Tennis. Buttercups or Morning Glory. Herbs magic or Earth and plant bending. Mice or Bees. Cabernet Frank or Micro-brews. Enchanted Garden or Magic that can perfect skills. Bunnies or Deer. Cancer or Scorpio.

[beebleboosuwu]

Fic: Took My Days With You

I originally posted this on AO3 but wanted to share this with y’all:

There’s one thing that she hated the most about herself:

The fact that she grew up.

Lydia didn’t want to, but that was a part of life. She left fifteen years ago to pursue her dream career of becoming a photographer. Her success with that led to her becoming an author and multiple of her publications became New York Times hits. Her autobiography came soon after, and people were enthralled by her life story. Obviously she had to leave out the... interesting bits of her teenage years other than telling her audience that she lived in a house where the previous tenants died and telling them that she could feel their presence everywhere she went in that house. And she told her story to all who would listen, they seemed to enjoy it claiming that it was all in the name of fiction but to her it was real. When she left, all five of her family members waved farewell and wished her the best of luck. Delia and Charles helped her pack, Adam and Barbara made provisions and supplies for her trip and Beetlejuice, the sentimental bastard, waited and bid farewell to her on the roof where they met. But one devastating phone call from Skye sent Lydia into a panicked frenzy, she hurriedly left her home of Salem, Massachusetts to Winter River, Connecticut. With her car supplied for only a week's worth of clothes, and now 40 years old, she returned to her home. She was always nearby, and never too far from her family, she didn’t have the heart to go that far.

Lydia drove past the sign of Winter River with a somber look on her face, her black convertible rolling down the familiar town. The town didn’t change much, it was still a small town and the nostalgia factor was striking a hard chord in her. She couldn’t stop the wetness running down her cheeks though.. This is where she grew up and now…. it’s gone..

Not like gone, but in the more ‘this no longer feels like home’ vibe. She had a home and lost that one with the death of her mother, but she rebuilt a new one with a second set of (ghost) parents and a strange and unusual best friend. Lydia could see it in the distance, a raggedy looking building faded with age. The surrounding hill hasn’t changed, other than the fact that her dad actually pulled through with that gated community deal with a different partner other than that snob Maxie Dean. It was a nice area though, multiple houses lined the way to her house, or rather the ‘flagship model home’ her dad nicknamed it so long ago.

She pulled up to the driveway, taking note of the dead vegetation around the property. She hasn’t been back in years, and it certainly has seen better days. The paint was chipping off from the wind, and there wasn’t even a strong breeze blowing. No one has lived here for a couple years either. Her father and stepmother died 3 years ago and she never got the chance to return to Winter River. She was always so busy, and whatever time she had to herself, she would throw herself into her work. Always working on the next big thing that her fans would enjoy.

The windows had been covered with wood and the door was left wide open. Multiple cans of bear and graffiti littered the front porch and the front door. Lydia was afraid to enter in, not because of the ghosts that she hoped were still in there, but how empty it looks from the outside.

She left her things in a hotel already and chose to come straight here rather than getting some rest. The hotel manager so it seem, was a big fan of Lydia’s and asked if she was going to return to her house that she used to live in. Rather than disclose that information, she said no. He said it was a shame what happened to her old house, it fell out of repair and no matter how many times realtors wanted to sell it, no one would buy it. According to the locals, no one would buy and live In a house that is haunted by its old occupants. It also became a place that was frequented by juveniles to get a good scare from this place. Which did work cause they claimed that some monster always chased them out. She knew who it was and the reason for Skye’s call:

The monster sightings and other weird stuff happening in her old house suddenly ceased.

The porch creaked beneath her feet, as if the wood would snap at any moment. Normally the Maitlands would come rushing out and greet her at the door and Beetlejuice would be in the living room watching whatever he wanted to, but there was nothing, and that definitely made Lydia pause her advancement towards the rickety old house. Her nose wrinkled from the old, wet, wood smell emanating from the house.

Lydia trudged on anyway and went past through the threshold, and what she saw saddened her. The roof had given out at one point and that pile of wood was tucked away to the side. The living room was a mess, riddled with dust and more garbage thrown around. And call her crazy for keeping it, but the sculpture that she used to stab Beetlejuice with was knocked over. The stand was crushed to smithereens and the pole and the adorning head piece laid far away. The pole was resting by the fireplace and the spiky headpiece was near the base of the stairs. Multiple photos of herself and her family were callously left on the floor, leaving the glass frame shattered and the photos caked with grime.

“Adam? Barbara?” Lydia called out to the empty house, “Lawrence?” her demon adopted brother would usually hiss at her for using his first name, and she got no response from her ghost parents or Beetlejuice. “Anyone home? It’ me, Lydia!” She called again, but only the echoing tones of her voice reached her.

She entered the kitchen next, leaving her just as devastated. The stove had been ripped out of the wall and the table was smashed to pieces, knives, pots and other cooking utensils were scattered on the island, sink and counter tops. the backdoor to the garden was no better. The door hung off its hinges and the backyard was full of dead grass and weeds, like the entire life of the house just disappeared.

Scared of what that entailed, she rushed towards the staircase and climbed up it without disregard. The hand rail fell off the moment she touched it but ran up, ignoring the protesting groans of the wood. She had to know.

She had to.

The hallway was filled with odd bits and bobs of the rooms, a smashed mirror was on the floor, a mattress was laid against the wall, pieces of metal stuck out from the mattress too. Making it seem that someone repeatedly stabbed the thing multiple times. Lydia cautiously stepped around the debris to head towards the door to the attic and out of all things that were destroyed, the door was the only one that looked like it hadn't been touched.

With hope rejuvenating her system, she busted down the door only to find no one inside. The attic was an absolute mess, the room was torn inside and out. Barbara and Adam’s bed was ripped to shreds, the love seat’s ripped and the fluff from inside the cushions were strewn along the floor, Adam’s model town was no longer here and Barbara’s clay pots lay shattered on the shelves. The window opening to the roof is left wide open causing a draft into the room. There was a small pile of clothes in the middle of the room, all looking like it was haphazardly thrown there.

“Adam? Barbara? Beej?” Lydia pleaded to the open air that one of them are still around. “Please, I’m here!” Now she couldn’t stop the tears from forming, “Beetlejuice? Ghost-mom? Ghost-dad? Where are you?!” Lydia started to feel the adrenaline and panic flood into her system, she frantically went to every nook and cranny of the attic throwing anything that might have obscured a hiding ghost, but no luck. There was no trace of the ghost couple and the green haired demon here. Her tearful gaze turned towards the roof, she checked every room of the house and no one responded to her calls.

The cold, crisp autumn air embraced her once more.. The weathervane rusted beyond recognition and the barriers between the edge of the roof and the solid ground she stood on were missing, most likely they were the things stabbed into the mattress. A hoarse scream left her throat and Lydia sunk onto her knees clutching her chest.

They were gone… She was alone, again. Forsaken. Invisible.

Her family has been scattered to the winds, Dad and Delia have expired, only days apart the doctor said. Lydia alone paid for the funeral and their gravesites to be dug, she didn’t return to Winter River. Instead she went straight into her work and wrote a hit, “The Demon Among Us.” It was about her experience with a literal demon, but over analytical professors and English majors chalked up her demon character (Beetlejuice) and said it was a personification of depression. Which would have been awesome… if that was what she wrote about.

Adam and Barbara were nowhere to be found, and the house they loved so much was falling apart. Their precious items, littering the lawn to the backyard to the front yard. If they could see what had happened, they would be surely hopeful and ready to fix it.

Beetlejuice didn’t appear instantly when she called his name, and since Juno was eaten by that Sandworm… Beetlejuice never had a problem with saying his name or getting anyone to say it. He did mention there was a slight tug from the after effects of the curse being lifted, but other than that he said it was manageable.

Lydia cried onto the roof tiles, the family she had built… vanished.

She pounded the ground, cursing herself for not making time, screaming that her life was taken away from her hands again. This was worse than when Emily died, back then she had her father to talk to about things like this. Delia would give insight of finding distractions to move past grief.. While Barbara and Adam gave Lydia a shoulder to cry one whenever she was upset. Beetlejuice made her laugh again and even though he was dead, or born-dead, he made her see that life is worth living. That even if it is a struggle, she could pull through.

Now they were not here, her decaying memories and odd photos of the family were the only things that helped remind her that they existed and were real to her.

“Lydia?”

Lydia turned around to find the familiar stench and sight of her black and white striped demon best friend. She gasped, got up and ran towards her friend. The demon had his arms wide open for her to collide into which she crashed into wholeheartedly.

“Beetlejuice…” she cried into his lapel.

“Heya scarecrow.. nice to see ya. You’ve changed.” Beetlejuice shakily rubbed her back.

“And you haven’t,” she let go to take a good look at him, “Oh Beej, your hair.”

Beetlejuice sadly smiled, his hair being a deep purple with even darker blue tips, his dress shirt was tinged purple too. She now got a better look at him, his face, stained with tears and wrinkle lines dominated his forehead. His eye bags were heavy as if he didn’t sleep for a long time. “I know.” He replied, “Things happened when you were away.”

“What happened?”

“The Maitlands…” His breath hitched. “They’re gone.”

Lydia stared at Beetlejuice and waited for the punchline. This was Beetlejuice, he was a prankster. Lydia laughed a little.

“You’re joking right?” She playfully shoved him, “They probably moved to the Netherworld, did you check there?”

“I checked… They aren’t.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious. They’re gone… Adam, Barbara… They vanished.” Beetlejuice rubbed his shoulder, “I’ve searched the Netherworld top and bottom, they aren’t there.”

Lydia stood dumbfounded, staring at Beetlejuice with wide-eyes.

“Here, I’ll tell ya what happened.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2 years ago

The couple scared off its next batch of kids that thought it was cool to party when the Maitlands were around still, haunting their now decaying house. Beetlejuice hung around giving the ghastly couple tips on what could be scary for these new kids coming in and trashing their house. Delia and Charles passed peacefully during a trip at their vacation spot in Lake Tahoe. They never got to go to the funeral, but letters addressed to Lydia were mailed here. Offering condolences to her and informing any other occupants that the Deetz couple have passed away.

The house quickly fell in disarray, Barbara and Adam couldn’t step outside the house in fear of being teleported to Saturn and being eaten by a Sandworm, so the plant life outside died. Beetlejuice tried to revitalize the plants by gardening, but nothing he did made the grass green again and the plants to grow. Barbara and Adam tried their best to coach Beetlejuice but the pants wouldn’t grow. Nothing was growing in the house.

At one point, during a cold winter, the three had become a throuple. Barbara initially asked Beetlejuice if he was interested, and with Adam’s happy smile, the three became a relationship. They slept on the same bed, kept each other company, and scared everyone who dared enter their territory. They kept the house unoccupied in hopes of Lydia returning one day.

But she never did.

One day when Beetlejuice was finishing scaring off a particular group of kids who seemed impervious to his usual tactics, returned to the attic to celebrate another successful spook, only to find no one there. Thinking it was a joke, Beetlejuice playfully rummaged through the attic to find his partners. Nothing. The roof was next and still: nothing. He checked all points of the house and each empty room he entered, he got more worried and scared that they have been abducted into the Netherworld by one of Beetlejuice’s enemies. After Juno, a lot of Netherlings seemed to come after Beetlejuice. He easily deflected them off but now if they came after the people he loved then there would be hell to pay.

He investigated the attic once more to see if there was any sign of struggle but there was nothing. Not even evidence of a door being open to the Netherworld. He checked anyway, he drew his passageway to the Netherworld and entered. Beetlejuice asked multiple people if they have seen the couple anywhere, and all of them have said they haven’t. Even Miss Argentina said she never saw them, and they were decades past their date of death. If they came through to the Netherworld, she would’ve seen them.

Beetlejuice returned to the house with a broken heart, and fearing the worst, he thought they were done with life. Done with him, and teleported themselves to Saturn for suicide. But that didn’t sit right with him, Adam and Barbara said they loved him. That they cared for him, was that all a lie?

Beetlejuice transported himself to Saturn to search for his partners, and when a Sandworm started following him and nudging at his palm, he concluded that Sandy was the one who followed him and consumed the Maitlands. At first he was furious, hair flushed a deep red and yelled at the Sandworm to spit out the couple, if he was there early enough they could be still alive within the Sandworm. Sandy tilted her head to the side like a dog, confused why Beetlejuice was yelling at her.

He continued to berate the worm into telling him where they are, but Sandy only stared with puzzlement.

Beetlejuice cried and begged Sandy to show him where they at least ended up so he could say goodbye on top of their graves, she agreed and took both Beetlejuice and herself back to the attic. She shrunk and dragged herself to the middle of the attic and curled around herself.

Beetlejuice finally understood.

The Maitlands have… died, again.

After some time, if they don’t go to the Netherworld, ghosts usually fade into nothingness. He has seen it a couple times, and all of them writhed and squealed with pain. It was sudden too, you never know when it will happen. Beetlejuice had gotten enthralled with the prospect of being loved for the first time that he forgot about this and he paid the price.

He then let an anguished cry, and laid on top of the floor. He was unable to hold them as they reduced to ash and disappeared into the void. He scratched the floor and roared. The entire house shook, and he left the attic in a flurry of rage and grief. Beetlejuice tore through each room, tearing it asunder and plowing it of all  memory of a happy family within each wall. He grabbed the metal spikes from the roof and stabbed them into a mattress, he tore the oven out of the kitchen wall and threw it out the door. He brought his fist through the table and slit his arms with the knives over and over again. Causing them to bleed over and over again. He smashed Delia’s sculpture next, throwing each piece to the opposite ends of the room. He returned to the attic and smashed Barbara’s pottery and set Adam’s model ablaze.

He blamed them, he blamed himself for falling in love, he blamed their stupidity for not heading to the Netherworld when they had a chance, he blamed the universe. Cursing it. It took away his happiness and he would burn down the world to force people to feel how he felt.

But he couldn’t, it would dishonour their names. It would dishonour his love to them, he won’t hurt anyone. He’ll scare off anyone who comes nearby the grieving demon.

People started coming in troves everyday, and it was fulfilling at first… But without them, it meant nothing. Beetlejuice became defeated, each scream never satisfied him as much anymore. Not without them.

He collected a pile of Adam and Barbara’s clothing and placed them in the middle of the attic floor and he would sleep on it, and he would dream the sweetest dreams. Adam and Barbara cuddling him and making him feel loved. He would dream of everyone, Barbara, Charles, Delia, Adam and Lydia having a great time. He would dream of Christmas parties and softer moments with his partners. Sometimes he dreamt of memories, a kiss there, a fleeting touch, a smell from Barbara’s perfume and Adam’s cologne would linger in the air when he suddenly woke.

He always woke up crying, knowing that he’ll never have them again.

And one day, he wrote a note:

To the Maitlands,

For the past couple of months I haven’t been able to sleep much or if not, not sleeping at all. I mean, I already had problems sleeping but with your disappearance, it got worse. By all means, this does not seem like I am pointing fingers or blaming anyone… Although it is easy to blame someone for something.. I loved and still love you guys. I still do… I mean it, one hundred percent. All those little kisses we shared, stay with me everyday. Any place I want to be, I want you guys here with me. With you guys, my whole undead life found meaning again. My world, my days, my nights, my hopes, my dreams, was there in front of me and I didn’t do anything about it. This place fills me sorrow, and I can’t bear being here without you two.

Thinking back, you had grand ideas and many stories that the world should’ve heard. All the things you’ve told me were fascinating. All those conversations we’ve had will always be in my memories. Even forgotten, they will be there.

Each day it is depressing to know that I’ll never get to see you two ever again. You guys had so many things to do, and I was left with those broken hopes and dreams. I’ll never get to see your happy faces and feel the same happiness you two gave me, this hurts beyond human and even demon comprehension.

You know, all the time I ever smile and laugh, I instantaneously frown and have a huge wave of sadness run over me. The thought of: “why are you happy? You don’t deserve to be happy.” shut me down. Even with the sweaters and photos left behind, it has both given me great relief and immense sadness. Cause it is a constant reminder that you’re not here with me.. Selfish as it is, I just wished I would’ve spent one more day with you. And I would do anything to have that one last day.

I am haunted with each day that passes. Most, if not all, of my dreams always have you in them. I see you, I hear you, I feel you. When I wake, I loathe to get out of bed. Cause I want to be with you, even if it was just a dream.

Countless memories flood my mind each night before I sleep. From the time I harassed you two, and to the time where we three fell in love. I am overcome with joy and sadness when thinking with those memories. And I’m sad I can’t make more with you. I don’t sleep until 3 or even 5 AM because the thought of seeing you in my dreams puts me in great agony and some nights I lay in anticipation for you to come barreling to my room saying that more breathers have entered the house.

I’m sorry that I’m saying all of this now that you’re gone. I’m sorry I think about you every night. I’m sorry for my brash and lewd nature. I’m sorry that I didn’t make enough time for you two. I’m sorry that I didn’t try hard enough. And I know I am apologizing for nothing but it hurts. Everything hurts. Everyday I’m putting on a mask to hide my emotions because I’m afraid.

I will never stop looking for you in this house. I will never stop hearing your booming laughter in these hallowed halls. I will never take down your photos. I will never stop being your friend and lover.

Everyone knew that there was something wrong with all three of us being dead and all… You two knew what was wrong with me, and I to you. We comforted each other at times, You guys were smart. Funny. Talented and beautiful. And undeniably sexy. A couple with hearts of gold.

I love and miss you guys,

BJ

Beetlejuice wrote multiple letters that he left scattered to the winds, and everyday he thought it was all a nightmare and he would wake up to find them on top of him smiling their bright smiles at him. But no, he would wake up to empty air and breathers rummaging around the house. Beetlejuice kept the door to the attic shut and would lock each time a breather would try to pick the lock.

He hoped that they would walk in through a portal from the Netherworld and make him feel better but it never happened. Days passed, weeks, months and eventually a year.

He laid unmoving from the pile of clothes, until a voice called out to the empty house.

“Adam? Barbara? Lawrence? Anyone home? It’s me-“

It was Lydia.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At one point during his retelling, Lydia and Beetlejuice went to the roof and sat on the edge just like they used to do. They cried together, comforted each other. Lydia hugged Beetlejuice when he stopped to catch his panicking breath, and returned it to Lydia when she curled into herself. They stayed like that for minutes and finally moved when Lydia stood.

She wiped her eyes, “Beej we have to leave. It’s not healthy for us to stay here,” she looked over to the setting sun. “I rented a place here for a week, it would be nice if I had a friend with me,” Beetlejuice opened his mouth but was cut off by Lydia, “I know, I want to stay here too, grab a picture of them and grab a piece of their clothing and maybe find their perfume and cologne”

“But what if they come back?” Beetlejuice asked her, with desperate hope in his eyes.

“I… wouldn’t bet on it Beej,” she sadly replied, “Here I’ll help you grab some stuff.”

Lydia headed back towards the house with Beetlejuice following. They grabbed one of Adam’s green flannels and one of Barbara’s oversized coats. During her time in this house, she found a way to take a picture of the ghost couple, and Beetlejuice took the family photo and stuffed it within his suit pocket. Barbara’s perfume and Adam’s cologne was stuffed in a closet that was full of their junk, Lydia quickly did a search on her phone. Luckily enough, the companies that made the perfume and cologne still made them.

Their treasures in hand, they headed towards Lydia's car in silence. They both got in and headed towards the hotel.

“Wait, before night falls, I have to show you something.” Lydia quickly made a detour, and reared towards the graveyard.

“Lyds, the graveyard?” He asked incredulously.

“Just wait, I came here once and discovered something. Got that letter with you still?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’ll see.” Lydia smiled at her demon best friend.

They pulled into the parking lot and Lydia frantically left her vehicle, yakking at Beetlejuice to come after her. She has been here before and quickly went down the path. During the ride, Beetlejuice had changed into Adam’s flannel and donned Barbara’s coral coat. It was warm underneath, and he could still smell them.

“M….” Lydia scanned through the multiple rows. “Here! Lawrence come on!”

Beetlejuice slowly trudged down the path, meeting Lydia at two gravestones. Two gravestones, engraved with the Maitland’s names. A little poem alternating between the two headstones:

Warm summer sun,

   Shine kindly here,

Warm southern wind,

    Blow softly here.

Green sod above,

   Lie light, lie light.

Good night, dear heart,

    Good night, good night.

Beetlejuice immediately seized and collapsed to his knees, hugging the two marbled stones.

“I’ll be in the car if you need anything,” Lydia rubbed his shoulder and left Beetlejuice there crying.

“Thank you Lydia.” Beetlejuice looked at her with sad eyes.

Lydia nodded and walked away, her boots digging into the gravel path, the sound retreating as she got further and further away.

Beetlejuice rubbed the gravestones longingly, hoping that wherever they ended up that they might feel his soothing touch. Lydia brought him here to say goodbye and to leave the letter he wrote.

He couldn’t do It right away, but opted to sit there a little while longer. It seemed like ages went by but he knew that Lydia would be in the car and she had to go to bed and eat sometime. He’d hate to leave but he could always teleport here anytime. Beetlejuice bit down on his thumb, biting down hard enough to make it bleed. Knowing a rune that he had learned as a child, smeared his blood on Adam and Barbara’s grave. A triangle and three circles on each point and then a small inverted heart in the middle. He’s going to come here often.

Beetlejuice summoned a bouquet of flowers for each of them.

For Adam:

Rosemary

A Crimson Rose

Purple Hyacinth

Red Carnation

For Barbara:

Pink Carnation

Primrose

Sweet Pea

Forget-me-nots

He placed them and stood up, but before he would forget, he dug a little hole where he stuffed his letter in. They wouldn’t read it, but having it nearby their graves made it feel like that would.

He returned to the car soon after, and let himself in. Lydia had it running and was ready to go when he got in.

“Thanks again,” Beetlejuice said softly.

“You needed closure and you can always come back,” Lydia leaned over her seat and hugged her best friend again. “I’ll miss them everyday.” She sighed. Beetlejuice nodded his head in agreement, it was a small movement but nonetheless it was seen. His hair throughout this entire interaction has never reverted to its usual green, staying on that deep purple and blue. Lydia let go and drove to her hotel.

It will never be the same for Beetlejuice ever again, he loved them and knows he’ll never see them again and will never feel that same love again. Sure, Lydia is his best friend, but nothing would fill that void left in his unbeating heart after today. Lydia reassured him that time heals all wounds and even she missed her dead mom, dad and step-mom but it got easier when she met people like Beetlejuice to make her feel better. He had a little flutter in his chest but paid no mind to it. He wished that he didn’t have to live this cursed world, but having good company made it worth the while.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They watched the car drive past the graveyard gates from up above, tears flowing down their faces. They didn’t want to fade away but that’s the next progression of their after life. They initially believed that the Netherworld was definitely the end, but here? The Aether was just as everyone imagined it to be, like the Netherworld, they were forbidden to interact with the realms but they could watch whenever and whom ever they pleased.

This made Adam and Barbara so happy. They loved Beetlejuice and it broke their hearts seeing him mope for months until Lydia stopped by. They wanted to hug them but it was not allowed.

“Thank you Beetlejuice, we love you.” Barbara whispered.

“Lawrence, I’ll never forget you.” Adam wiped away a tear from his face.

[thecrimsonvalley]

RDR Secret Cupid - “For my next trick...”

This one goes out to you @smithandrogers!  I’m your backup cupid for the @rdrsecretcupid2020 and I really hope you’ll enjoy the text, it was super fun to get to write these two dorks <3  ~~~ There were many people he would consider when the phrase “skulking off” came up around the camp. In fact, Arthur was well aware that he himself was one of these individuals, though his position as golden boy, adoptive son and all those other lovely phrases gave him quite the leeway to come and go as he pleased. One of the few individuals for who he would not use this word was Josiah. It was not so much the action of him taking his leave or moving from camp to get a breather. No it was the word “skulking off” that did not suit this well dressed gentleman. A person of his composure did not “skulk”: they “took their leave”, “withdrew”, “removed themselves” or whatever other fancy word they could possibly come up with. No matter which one, he had seen the other man move away from the camp site and, after a short debate, he himself had followed.

Arthur found no particular shame in confessing he enjoyed Josiah's company. There had been many, both men and women, whose presence he had found a great deal of enjoyment in yet he could never help himself from placing an individual scale onto it. While some were soft and gentle, requiring a great deal of attention others blew through his life like a hurricane and every encounter left him with the feeling he had just been ran over by several trains. For the time being he had not managed to figure just where this man was supposed to be categorised. 

Stepping into a clearing between the trees, his eyes set onto the back of the other man. With a smile he acknowledged that this place was certainly a neat little spot for some brief alone time. The trees gave enough shade, cutting off any view from the main camp yet their roots had not shot up enough through the ground to render it completely unusable. Thought the thought felt quite out of place, Arthur could not help but to consider that this would be an almost idealistic place for a little outing, if one was so inclined.     Almost as if Josiah had sensed his presence, the man spun around, the gesture almost unnaturally smooth. The only one he had seen coming even close had been the manners in which Hosea had held himself in younger years when retelling his endeavours during his short acting career. It was either a scene thing or a conman thing, neither of which he himself possessed. A smile played over the other man's lips as he gave a light bowing motion.      “If it isn't Arthur out for a stroll” Josiah said, his voice as melodic as ever “what a pleasured encounter!” “Just thought I ought to make sure ya don't get eaten by a bear or what not.”  He heard Josiah give a laughter combined with the low line of “perish the thought” as he once more turned. By now Arthur could see that he had been carrying along one of his bags, full of what he had never really figured out. It was a private matter, outlaws or not it was not in his nature to rummage through the belongings of anybody in camp. “Now that you're here” came Josiah's cheerful voice “you might as well be my test audience.” “Ya sure you wouldn't rather have me fetch Jack? Or Sean?” Arthur muttered, adding on a grumble “then again, we'd all have to listen to that idiot yap his mouth off about faes and what not!” “Let's not spoil the act before you've seen it.” There was a bit of an accusing tone in Josiah's way of speaking and, despite his own pride taking a little bit of a turn, Arthur did sit down in the grass. Sure, he had enjoyed some of those tricks, even though he couldn't for his life figure out of what use they were. Perhaps he had lost some touch with his sense of wonder and whimsy; a sentiment he felt most strongly to be the truth. “Pick a card.” Choking back a laughter, Arthur bit down onto the line of how it was the oldest trick in the book and instead did as he was told. Hovering his hand above the outstretched deck, he took a small bit of amusement out of almost pinching one of the cards before shaking his head and once more “contemplating” which one he should settle on. Throwing a glance at Josiah, he was rather surprised that the other man did not appear to be bothered at all by his jest, just patiently holding onto the cards with that charming smile on his lips. Saving his own mind before it went wandering, Arthur finally tugged one out. “Don't show me” Josiah continued, turning his face rather dramatically “memorise the number and colour!” With a shrug of the shoulder, Arthur did as told before sliding the card back into the deck. It was quite hard to pretend like he did not know how this would end but he patiently waited through the other man shuffling the deck about. With a snarky sentence resting onto his tongue, he felt a light pinch of surprise as he watched Josiah give the deck a sharp slap, the cards seemingly vanishing from out of his hands. “Well good look finding it now” Arthur muttered, though he was quickly silenced with a “shhh, it's not done yet” from the other man. “Pray tell, Mr Morgan, is this your card?” Josiah's hand movement was as flowing as water as he reached over towards the side of his face, brushing against his cheek, sending shivers down his entire body. With all his might, Arthur tried to pretend like it had not bothered him, all the while attempting to get a read on the other man. Was the smirk an invite? A mere gesture of amusement because he had been caught off guard? As the card was flashed before his eyes he gave a grunt, pushing the other man's hand away. “Yeah, yeah, that's the right one, you've done it a thousand times.” “You offend me Mr Morgan” Josiah responded, dramatically pushing his hand towards his chest “it seems I have to really floor you with the next one!” “Really? Ya gotta work on that originality ya know? What ya gonna do, pull a crow out of yer sleeve? Never ending handkerchiefs?” It did feel like a tiny victory as he watched Josiah give a little frown, his fingers sliding up to twirl through his dark curls and stroke down his moustache. It was a gesture that Arthur found as fascinating as it was charming. Then again there was a lot of things he found absolutely infatuating about this man that came and went as he pleased. He would be damned if he could not confess, at least to himself, that he found him alluring in all the right ways. “Well Arthur, you've forced my hand” Josiah said, straightening his back “I shall have to perform the act of a lifetime!” “Finally something original then.” “So it shall be.” Half by half expecting the other man to turn about, Arthur felt a tad dumbfounded as he watched Josiah instead step up in front of him, straightening his sleeves in that manner that only a skilled con artist could. It was a terrible gesture: not for its performance itself but rather for how it made his heart make a leap in his chest. He was not a man used to being wooed, it was him who did that to others but Josiah, this terribly wonderful man, he certainly had at least a hint of power to do so. “I shall now ask a person in my audience to close their eyes.” “Well now, how's that gonna impress anyone?” Arthur chuckled. “Patience, Mr Morgan, patience.” Shrugging his shoulders, he did as told, though the mere fact of sitting there, hands rested over his own knees and heart still beating like a drum gave him an awful strange sensation. He could hear the other man move about, the ruffling of shirt sleeves and the steps in the soft grass heightened by his lack of sight. Over it all was the low beat of his own pulse, his inner voice screeching while outwards showing nothing. The gentle brush of Josiah's fingers came against his cheek and Arthur thanked his lucky star that he had perfected the art of remaining stationary. While still trying to figure the trick out, a vain attempt from his side to remain one step ahead of his companion, he felt the sudden warm sensation of a pair of lips upon his own. Almost choking on his own breath, Arthur quickly opened his eyes, looking right into the soft yet oh so amused gaze of the other man. “You shall now fall hopelessly in love with me.” No matter how much he wished to say something, be it protest or agreement, Arthur felt his throat choking up, rendering him speechless. He did observe how the other man seemed to tense for a few seconds, perhaps awaiting some sort of outburst or reaction yet when none came, Josiah instead gave an amused “oh my, is it already taking effect?”. This simple sentence, dripping with a teasing tone, finally shook him back into gear. With a mix of wishing to defend his own selfish pride and not be made a fool of, Arthur reached his hands out, grasping onto the coat of the other man and with a swift movement he managed to tug him down, trying his best to soften the fall. Despite how much his thoughts told him to “pay back in kind” he was none too keen on accidentally hurting the now laughing man in the process. To wrestle Josiah down onto the ground, pinning his hands onto the grass, was barely a sport at all. Brutal strength was his own talent and one he knew that few in camp could match him with. Despite how much he had wished for it to be a move to show power or confidence, Arthur could not help but to let his lips crack up into a smile upon hearing the amused chuckle from the man before him. “Yes, indeed, I would say it is working just as it should.”  

[choicest]

Go Now

Chapter 3

Summary: Chris and MC's relationship was only strengthen after the challenges they have faced the past few years. Now, that graduation is past approaching, both of them enjoy the remaining time they have left. Will this remaining time also means the last moments they'll share?

Disclaimer: The following are fics of Choices: The Senior. All characters belongs to Pixelberry Studios but I might add some characters throughout the story.

Note: Thanks for reading! Sorry for the very late. I've been very busy and sometimes I just don't feel like writing. But nevertheless I am so glad you're still here.

Pairing: Chris x MC

Today's the day. MC sits in front of the mirror smoothing her hair when her mother knocks on the door. "Hey, honey are you ready?" MC smiles at her through the mirror. Sighing her mom quickly walks towards her placing her hands on her shoulder. "I know it's hard, honey. And it's okay if you're not as excited as you thought you would be. But hey, look at me..." MC turn around facing her mom "You're going to be fine. Not to mention that you are graduating in a few hours, and delivering such an inspirational speech for being the Summa Cum Laude." Her mom smiles at her while she straightens her dress. "Well yeah. I guess that's pretty amazing. Thanks, mom." MC smiles hugging her mother. "Hey now, save that for later especially since you are hugging without me. Come on now, ladies. We wouldn't want to be late." Rolling her eyes MC shouts "Coming!" as she gathers her things.

The smell of fresh cut grass immediately warms MC as she steps into the quad. She missed this. She slowly close her eyes and enjoy the moment for a while. MC's peace was interrupted when she heard a loud, small voice. "MC! MC!" She smiles but as soon as she opened her eyes, her smiles dissappeared. It was AJ's. AJ has been a really good friend and a sister to her ever since they had the chance to bond. And now that Chris and her are no longer together it pained her more knowing that a lot of people are also going to be affected. She saw Chris trailing behind AJ but she knows he wanted to give them a moment. There is no denying that she still love him incredibly but the pain is too deep. For now she will just play with the championship ring inside her pocket.

"I'm sorry." AJ whispers. The tone in her voice so guilty.

"Hey, what for?"

"Well, Chris said you two broke up. I know I was not a very nice little sister at the beginning but I also know that you really love him. I'm sorry this happened.

"Hey, AJ?" MC whispers touching her small hands. "You don't have to apologize. It's not your fault, okay? I'm okay."

"Hey, it's fine. You don't need to lie about your feelings. Your practically my sister now, you know." she laughs. "It's okay, MC."

"Thank you, AJ. At least I get to experience what it's like to have a sister."

AJ smiles at her sweetly reaching for a hug.

"Thank you too, MC. Oh and congratulations. You're really the best."

A little while later Dean Stafford takes the podium to greets the students and guests. "Now aside from her academic excellence the student I'm about to call have contributed a lot to maintain our school's image. She's very successful for her age and there's no doubt that her future is going to be an exciting one. Everyone, a round of applause for this year's Summa Cum Laude, MC!

MC takes the podium and thanks Dean Stafford before speaking. "Good day to all of you, especially to Dean Stafford. That was an amazing introduction, Sir." The audience laugh and Dean nods to her. "My journey here at Hartfeld is no different from yours. I had a terror professor which turned out to be the greatest teacher, professor Vasquez..." MC pause and look at the sky "thank you so much. This success wouldn't be possible without you. I attended parties and events whenever I am free, I share the bathroom with five different persons during freshman year, and an all day costumer at the Cafe sometimes during the weekends. And just like everyone of you, I found the most important things in the most ordinary things. During freshman year, I found the most supportive and caring friends who helped me achieve this, I discovered my passion and realized what I truly want to do with these talents, and most importantly I get to experience love and to feel loved..." Chris' proud face slowly turn into a frown when hears those words. He tries to make eye contact but MC focuses on everything except him. "I get to know what it truly means to love the things I do for me to excel. To love my friends which turned into a family and to give my all even if everything is uncertain. I learned the feeling of disappointment and was lucky enough to be able to learn from it to make myself better. And I guess that's the challenge that we're going to face. We're about to face the real world now. It's not always going to be fun. It will disappoint us but we need to be better and continue no matter how hard we fell. Congratulations, to everyone. Thank you, Hartfeld."

MC stands beside Dean Stafford to hand diplomas and congratulates other students. "Bachelor of Science degree, with a major in Architecture, Zackary Zilberg!" After Dean Stanfford hand him his diploma MC reach out to shake his hands but Zack slap it to the side and gave her the tightest hug which gain a lot of sweet reactions from the crowd. She feels extra proud for each of her friends during the ceremony.

"Bachelor of Science degree, with a major in Political Science, Christopher Powell!!" Dean hands him his diploma and shakes his hand firmly. Chris looks at MC and thought of kissing her. That would be great he thought to himself. Making a show, showing her off, letting the people know that she's his and his only. But he can't. MC shakes his hand and give a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm proud of you." She whispers. Holding her hand, Chris caresses her knuckles trying to comfort himself with her warmth. How he missed holding her. How he missed her. How he missed them. MC let go shaking the hand of the student following him.

After the ceremony MC reach to her pocket holding the ring again. She doesn't know how many times she have done this the whole day but it makes her feel better in some ways so she keeps doing it. She contemplates if she's ready to give his ring back. She wants to. She knows she needs to to be able to move on completely but she's not ready to let him go completely yet. At least not for know. She saw Chris sitting at the fountain, the very spot where they first met. She knows he's waiting for her. Chris looks up and sees her. He smiles, an inviting smile she knows too well. She couldn't help but to give in. She slowly walks towards him.

"I've been waiting to have an alone time with you today but I guess I don't really have the right to demand from you anymore." Chris says.

"What I said earlier, I meant it. I'm so proud of you, Chris. I know how much work and courage it took you to get here and I'm so proud you're slowly reaching your dreams."

"But you know, those dreams are nothing without you right?" He test the waters. Trying and hoping.

MC reach for the ring in her pocket and begins to play with it again.

"How's Rookie by the way? Is he still a rookie or has he learn another cute little tricks?"

"He's still cute..." both of them share a laugh "but sometimes he gets sad. I mean his mom left."

"What are your plans now? MC ask curiously.

"What?" Chris looks at her. Hope in his eyes thinking she still cares.

"I mean you know, Rookie. I just don't want him to feel more lonely if you have plans on traveling for your sports career."

Chris' face fall feeling disappointed.

"I won't leave him if ever I'll travel. Do you want to keep him?"

"I think he's already in good hands. Let me just see him to say a proper goodbye. I'm leaving for London in a few weeks. I got the job, would you believe that? You know, that day at the Kappa? I was about to share the news with you. A lot of things happen before I got to find you though. Darren and Logan had to deal with this jerk who's trying to score a dance with me, you know? I was so afraid. But hey, they told me you were upstairs and at that time that makes everything better somehow. Because that's what you always do. You make things better. You make me feel better." Tears started to form in MC's eyes now.

Chris couldn't believe it. She needed him. He could have protected her. But he didn't. The moment was too perfect for Becca. He puzzles everything and continues to put the blame on Becca but deep down he knows he's responsible. He shouldn't have trusted her in the first place. Chris wanted to hurt himself. She was looking for him. Not only to deliver the news but also to seek comfort and all she had receive was pain. "I am such an asshole." he thought to himself.

Chris tries to reach for her hand. He wanted to say sorry over and over again until she give him another chance he know he won't deserve but MC is too quick. She puts her hands away and take a deep breath. She looks at him saying "Thank you for everything, Chris. Congratulations."

tag: @whendolphinscry @slightuwu @maxattack-powell @divoyt

[2334242xiao]

6 Months Until The Last Snowflake Falls (DenNor)

Hullo! So remember the rp with my friend-- Mengshui (She’s chinese, i doubt she will get tumblr) This fic is sorely based and dedicated to that, with some edits of course because it would make it more dramatic. 

Take note: English is my 3rd language  so if there are solecisms, then you would know why. Sorry that I didn’t get that graphic with the ‘lemon’ scene because I solely wanted to focus on the emotions instead of that. 

I will however link an FF.NET VERSION when I do release it there.

 Summary: Lukas Bondevik is a blind violinist who abhors the world. Being blind from birth, Lukas finds it hard to find anything beautiful, only ever self-absorbed and a withdrawn individual who spends countless days playing his musical instrument. Mathias Kohler is an ex-bassist who has yet to come terms with his terminal illness that would render him incapacitated in a few months. After excusing himself from intensive care, the two souls meet and treasure the remaining days Mathias has left before it finally ends. 

 1st month:

Walking down the pebbled sidewalk, it was the end of spring and summer had set in the lush green trees embittered into a soiled golden brown that brushed past the sidewalk, the mordent smell of coffee brown soil wafted into the air, the numbers bustling to and fro down the jagged path, ducking underneath honey golden leaves that rustled, teeming with life. A lone musician stood in the audience of passersby, eyes closed, skin pale and donning a scarf that wrapped around his neck, dissembling his lips and the tip of his nose that freckled with red.

Lukas Bondevik

The blind violinist prodigy as they’ve acclaimed him to be and no doubt the way his bow danced and how his arms slid back and forth, thread against thread, dancing to the melancholy of his crest-fallen music, bringing forth uncertain despondency, compelling people of different colors, different pasts and labels to flick a coin onto his violin case laid next to him.

A distinct physique halted in front of him and with a mirth-full smirk, flicked his own coin, a cheeky smile ever present on his bubbly face, golden hair brushed of his forehead, in discernable spikes that oddly resembled that of a plant, striking cerulean eyes and a winsome face to win it all.

He clasped his hand together in an audible clap, and Lukas shoulder’s loosened, his bow and violin lowered as if to acknowledge the strange presence in front of him.

“You play really well,” He joshed, his claps waning off into the distance, his interest clearly piqued with how his blue eyes were glazed over and he reluctantly extends his arm, waiting for the other to take albeit; Lukas stayed taut, his eyes closed and for some reason Mathias pondered why it was.

“My name is Mathias Kohler,”

___

2nd month:

Mathias had waited for Lukas to finish his daily tutoring session, which the Norwegian frequently did as a side job, mainly because it helped with the daily expenses. The seasons have turned warm now, the sun scorching and the days grew longer and the night grew shorter. Beads of sweat blossomed from the other’s feverish skin as he awaited for his friend, who later on revealed himself, hobbling out of a twin crested ornate door, probably dark Oakwood, tapping his cane along the small flight of stairs, spurring Mathias to aid him down, only to be deliberately shoved off and rejected.

“Don’t. Pity. Me. Kohler.” He glowered, and he opened his eyes, a blue-gray milkiness that showed only fiery indignation at the other’s advances. Mathias froze up in spot before chuckling riotously, scratching his nape as he did so. “Sorry, Lukas—“He apologizes profusely, head hanging and gaze averted.

He had deciphered over time that Lukas was blind; it was one of the latter’s insecurities and he reprehended anyone who would take pity on him and that include majority of the human population, viewing the world in such a contemptuous, pessimistic view point and perceiving most human interaction as unremarkable and insignificant with little to no outcome, a verdant fruit left to rot.

Somehow despite all of this, Mathias had wriggling himself into Lukas’s daily life and also their interactions have been all but bitter before, it ameliorated and escalated every day until Lukas had found Mathias’s presence to be soothing, propitiating him when he was being trampled by his own insecurities.

 ___

3rd month

Mathias had noticed over the past days, really how his tousled blonde hair would grow thinner, thinner and thinner until it ruffled away when he combed through it. Obvious distraught in his visage and he felt himself sliding down the bathroom wall, wrapping his arms around the comfort of his legs, face buried against sallow and tender skin as he observed the tufts of wheat that littered around him, the bathroom in disarray, sobs erupted from his throat and his breathed staggered, feeling asphyxiated by the growing apprehensive thought of death knocking around the corner.

As he watched his tears stream from his face like an open faucet, sagely inconsolable, a knock would present itself on his doorstep, accompanied by the incessant pressing of his doorbell. Slowly and surely he gathered himself, wiping the droplets of tears that emerged from the sea of his blue eyes, finally desolating the bathroom after what it seemed like hours.

This wasn’t virtuous; this wasn’t equitable, that sooner or later his friable state would worsen and he would be incapacitated, disfigured in hospital bed, left to die alone.

Putting on a façade was easier than admitting his doubts, his concerns and the demons he had to face when he was alone. It was so much easier to smile through pain than share the sorrow and distraught with people around you.

He treads towards the main door and opens it, seeing Lukas appear, bringing a blissful smile on his face as he did so. The aching faded and diminished extinguished by the blonde that stood on his doorstep, amidst the heat of the summer sun, the cacophony of bird’s chirps drowning off in the background.

“Lukas~!” He exclaimed with jubilation, arms wrapped instantly around the other’s frame causing Lukas to stagger a little backwards, a lone arm wrapped around the Dane’s waist, the other holding a crumpled brown bag with ‘Lukas’ scrawled on top of it. As their faces brushed momentarily could Lukas feel as there was damp flesh slapped against his own, the friction bleak and unusually frigid.

“… Are you OK…?”

___

4th month

The night sky was exhilarating, brilliant bejeweled stars hung themselves against the vast midnight blue atmosphere, the rustling of leaves against the moonlit winds and the whistle of tones at the gales whirled past them. In the midst of a the grass field sat two men, one eyes brilliantly complemented the midnight blue sky and one whose had his close, shrouded in deep shadow by the offset of his brow ridge. They both remained to be cordially taciturn, cumbersome bodies against the pillow of green strands that littered over the field, munificent and abundant.

“The night looks really good tonight!” Mathias had the audacity to point out, causing Lukas to audibly scoff, shaking his head lightly.

Didn’t this buffoon get it? It’s not like he can see it either ways. Mathias was stupid.

Still he baffled himself why Mathias had successfully brought him out in the middle of the night where the temperature was freezing as the autumn sets in and the branches becoming bare, leaves falling leaving them naked. Plants would shrivel and brown and golden leaves littered the ground. Even the greenery had turned a tad earthly and no doubt would hibernate soon, extinguished back to the soil to thrive again in the opening of spring.

“Oh look at that star! It looks like a horse—err—a cat? Dog?” He could even discern even the most simple of information even when he was the one blessed with the ability to see, so his companion could only stifle a small fit of facetious laughter, nearly tearing up at the other’s puzzlement.

“You’re an idiot, you know that Matt?” He called, his breath harrowing underneath him, shuddering as the cold wind pressed against his skin, causing him to rubbing his attenuated fingers along the boney ridge of his right arm. “I can’t see *shit.* “Lukas curses in hilarious profanity, prompting a gasp from Matthias.

“I can’t believe you Lukas! Did you just curse?” For a fact, it was nothing but joviality and buoyancy that tainted the blonde’s voice, rolling his eyes at the other’s misleading attitude, feeling the coldness of the air stick to his skin away, causing him to quiver lightly.

So suddenly before the Dane could muster up another witty reproach, Lukas steels himself just enough to roll over to Mathias’s side nuzzling against the warmth of his torso, laying his head so lightly against the other’s warmth, causing Mathias to constrict, promptly tongue-tied as his diaphragm entraps itself and his heart threatening to burst as his lungs refused to pump.

“For the record…” Lukas stared, his voice drawled as he looked up at what he could only make out at the Dane’s face, a soft smile of hilarity prevailed on his face. “It’s not so bad… Tonight I mean.” Averred the Norwegian and Matthias’s laughs, breath throttling as he tentatively sneaks his arm around Lukas’s thin waist pulling him closer, closer and closer until he could feel Lukas’s breath tickle his face, pressing the ghost of a kiss against fervent lips and both conjectured that truly, the feelings that stirred inside of them were more than just illusions of the weary heart.

It felt like acid lava circulating in their veins rewiring them and the kiss grew more avid over time, passion lapped on the both of them and Matthias takes this advantage to outclass the Norwegian, pushing his tongue in between the other’s jaw, licking along the hollow of his cheeks, the bumpiness of his teeth and the taste that lingered in between them, all the while earnest touches wiped down the other’s body, down Lukas’s sides, up Mathias’s shoulder.

Mathias ends the zestful kiss too soon and a whine pushed its way through Lukas’s parted ones as if in lost, yearning for the touch the other wanted to give him so. Mathias licks his damp lips and suddenly felt so penitent.

“L-Lukas…” He stammered unable to process the grave mistake that he had just allowed to happen, a blunder that he would regret for the rest of his days that would only mar abrasions on his soul when he would pass from the earth, because Mathias was ticking time bomb and nearly at its peak.

“Y-Yeah..?” Lukas pondered if it was something that he did, wondered if it was  his fault to stir something wicked and odious inside the other to frenzy his sadness, his deplorable expression that even Lukas knew was prolific on his face.

“I have to tell you something…” Barely a hushed whisper, only amplified enough for the Norwegian to grasp and assimilate the meaning. Lukas was expecting it, three words, and the syllables that would put them both in composure and confirm the other’s bursting feelings.

“I’m dying, Lukas. “ As if three new words spelled death for the other and Lukas felt his heart sink deep into his stomach, felt reprehension and detest pile up in his core, because the other had been so *knavish* allowing Lukas to fall in love with him, allowing it to get this far.

He couldn’t even search for words that didn’t exist and so he lets the sobs take over as he pressed his face against Mathias’s collarbone, gritting his teeth together. “Why does everything I ever care about…? Everything I love everything I give a shit about always leave me…?” He bellowed, deep in sullen, trying to stifle most of his hurt, trying to aid plasters on the wound that Mathias had lacerated him with, leaving him disfigured.

Mathias bore no answer and so silently, he wallowed in self-pity. There was hollowness in the midst of them.

___

5th month

It was night and the heat of the party had gotten the better of them, being invited to the early Christmas party of Tino and Berwald, only leaving both of the blonde incoherent, Mathias mustering the last of his strength to drag Lukas home, though as soon as they Lukas’s back collided with the smooth door, his arms fly around Mathias’s neck, bringing the taller male’s head down, brushing their lips with extreme fervor, his knee digging against his lover’s crotch.

Mathias lets out a throaty gasp in retort, his arms pinning the shorter male’s against the expanse of the door, prompting Lukas to immediately writhe and struggle against the other’s touch, trying to pry Mathias’s inviolable grip to no avail, the Dane’s hand locked him in place and kissed underneath his jaw, down the sensitive skin of his neck nibbling lightly, sucking earnestly, leaving little love marks here and there.

Lukas presses his knee unreasonably hard against the Dane’s nether regions, causing Mathias to retreat and gasp in pain as he did so. “We’re not doing it outside, Mathias—“He shuddered, feeling the air cloud up around him, shivering lightly as he pocketed the key to their house, considering that Mathias had moved in a few weeks ago.

“That fucking hurts, Lukas—“Hissed the other, all the while hands set on his jeans trying to ease and palliate the pain he felt, much to his dismay. It didn’t take Lukas long to creak the door open and unfathomable eyes looked back at his pained boyfriend as if beckoning him inside. “Are you going to whine about it or fuck me?”

At the vulgarities and the scrutiny of his boyfriend, Mathias could feel himself come alive and so zestfully he followed after Lukas, only to press him against the wall, kicking the door shut, the ring of keys dropping on the floor with a clunk and a ring, probably to be found in the midst of all their clatter in the morning.

Mathias takes a long drag, peppering the neck of his lover with much kisses, licks and everything in between, anything that could foster out all those lovely moans from the other male and Lukas wasn’t in the mood to deny him of that to be honest. They rut against in other in unimaginable heat, crotch against crotch, enough to frenzy both of them alive.

It didn’t take long until the two stumbled themselves towards the bedroom, undressing all the way, leaving a litter of clothes after their trail and of course, sooner or later Lukas’s back was pressed against the softness of the comforter and Mathias was on top of his him, pressing kisses all over his face, causing the Norwegian to swat at him. “Q-Quit that! I-I-I-It tickles! M-Mathias, no, s-top!” He exclaimed, voice thundering as he did so squirming in the other’s hold, trying to push Mathias’s face away from his.

“No! I’m a monster and I’ll eat you guts~! Rawr!” Other professed before lunging for the other’s flat stomach and lavishing the skin with much more kisses, causing Lukas to burst out in a strong fit of laughter, gripping the sheets below him. “No! Stop! Stop—Ahhaha- stop!” He cried out, feeling tears teetering from his lashes, streaming down his cheeks.

Mathias slowly retracts his head from the other’s stomach, pressing his weight lightly against Lukas, leaving a kiss on his lips, soft and gentle, before he reached over to the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of lotion, holding it up, pressing the cold container against Lukas’s face, causing the other to furrow his eyebrows. “Stop surprising me idiot!” He upbraided, his eyes sliding open to glare at the direction he perceived his lover’s face was, Mathias drawing the container away from Lukas’s face, a smile of hilarity stained his features before he popped the lid open. “Alright….” He lilted, humming a sing song tune, pressing his fingers against the other’s entrance.

Their rutting came by next and the only audio was the light creaking of the bed and the moans that littered around the air, the musk thick as the two men rocked against each other’s body, groaning and moaning in unison as they did so, scratching marks all over the other’s body, marking, kissing, licking. It was surprisingly soft, a torturous pace but full of love anyways, that and Mathias had the gall to make jokes throughout it, turning it into something full of endeavor in a second. Lukas didn’t really appreciate it, but when both reached rapture and their unwieldy body stuck together, Mathias rolling off of Lukas and heaving a sigh, then a small hobble of laughter followed as he gathered the Norwegian that laid close to him, causing Lukas to press a hand against his face. “No cuddling, you’re sticky and I don’t like it.” He protested, though the next thing he did was rather contradicting, rolling over so he could slink an arm around Matthias’s waist, nuzzling his chest. “Says the one who’s cuddly~” He teased, playing with the Norwegian’s hair.

This was nice, amicable even and the Dane was glad to have lived through their tender moments with his lover. Everything was idyllic and of course the apprehension of dying was still there. Especially since Mathias had noticed that his hair had gotten indisputably thin these past days and his skin turned sallow, and was rapidly losing weight, the blood spitting and nosebleeds had become rampant as well and he was so relieved that Lukas didn’t have to see all that mess, didn’t have to see what a mess Mathias had become.

“Good night, Matthias.” The Norwegian bids farewell, pressing a faint kiss against the other’s cheek, burrowing himself in the warmth that the other offered. With a rueful smile that traced his features, his fingers found themselves tangling in Lukas’s smooth blonde hair. “Good night. I love you.”

____

6th month

“Give us a smile Mathias!” Tino touted from where he was standing, polaroid camera in his hands as he did so. Mathias complied, gracing his friends with a small smile. It had been exceptionally hard to breathe nowadays and the pain he felt was excruciating even when they’d administered pain killers, it only got more and more apparent that Mathias wasn’t going to prevail through this and he could see it beyond the transparency of Tino’s smile or Berwald’s unexplained silence—maybe it was only Lukas who coveted that he fight through, because then the Norwegian wouldn’t be able to go on without the Dane.

He felt ugly.

He felt really ugly.

There was not a strand of blonde hair left on his scalp, his flesh hanging on to the brittle frame of his bones. His eyes were sunken and dulled to a sullen grey color, his lips chapped and he was consistently dehydrated, lips flaking off. Bruises sported all over his body, black, blue and some of them yellow or the verge of healing only to be replaced with new ones. He was hooked onto so many machines, couldn’t even eat by himself and everyday was just another arduous task, another onerous day to live, because his body would flare up with hurt until he was breathless. He would scream until he was deaf, because he longed for death, feeling his body crushed underneath the pressure and those would be the days where Lukas would be the most disconsolate, the streams down his eyes as he tried to conciliate his lover’s pain to no avail, because Mathias would crumble under any touch and plead them, beseech them to let him rest.

He was feeling guilt-stricken. He’d brought this upon himself; he’d brought this upon Lukas. He’d allow the Norwegian to sidle so close to him when he should’ve kept him at arm’s length and now the Norwegian only had to plug his ears close when Mathias was on an outbreak of anguish, begging so profoundly, begging to perpetually to be relieved from the pain, enough to make the strangers outside of the room, peek in out of concern, knowing that the pain couldn’t be alleviated.

Tino retrieves the picture and flick it, letting it set before showing it to Mathias who laid on his bed, incapacitated, barely breathing, and his hollow, sunken eyes drifted to the picture, a smile on his face, a very piteous one indeed.

“I look---“ He rasped, his voice coarse. “I look really ugly without my hair haha—“ He gave the other a farcical laughter, however it was easy to fathom how deplorable the blond was about his condition. He detested being in the hospital, unable to stand, let alone feed himself. It was like his life was hanging on a thread growing shorter and shorter every day. Mathias feels Lukas rise from his spot and sit on his bed, his hand running across the other’s forehead, the other’s scalp, his eyebrows that also had started to fall off because of chemotherapy. “I don’t think you’re ugly.” Lukas proclaimed and leaned to kiss his forehead, just mouthing something in Norwegian that he wouldn’t be able to construe.

“You’re just saying that because you love me—Haha” Rebukes the quivery voice that spoke up, feeling to lethargic to insert any more effort than he should.

“That’s true… I’ll always love you.” It hurt really when Lukas would say those words to someone he knew that he was lose, to someone he knew would go away and yet he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t force his feelings to cease because Mathias has been anything but bad to him. He’d become so essential in the other’s life. He’d become his greatest asset and greatest ultimatum, all concocted into the same man.

“I’ll always love you too, Lukas. Forever.”

___

7th month – Epilogue

He felt the winds past his ears like a careless whisper, touching him in such an intimate way, as if he was an albatross ready to spread his wings, soar through the winds, against the tide and yet his vision remained dark. It was late at night and the snow fell against his upright form, hands tucked deeply inside his pocket. Something about this was rather familiar, like he found himself standing in the midst of the grass fields at night with him.

He had passed away a few weeks ago and Lukas would be fraudulent should he profess that he hadn’t felt the anguish, the fury and the frustration that accompanied itself with a screeching shrill as Tino held him down, as his fingers shook and his knees buckled underneath him, how his heart missed so many beats and how he was convinced that his lungs wouldn’t work and that he was a broken contraption. Everything just fell apart; everything was in disarray and Lukas found himself licking his wounds in solitude, feeling his heart separate in fragmentary pieces.

As he readied himself, he cleared his throat, taking in a deep breath, feeling the feeling still asphyxiating him, still an invisible noose hung around his neck because he’d never found himself so besotted with one person in all his life. Then so suddenly as if the cruel God of Fate decided that they weren’t mean for each other, snagged Mathias from his hold and made him feel so empty.

He bends over, picking up the violin that he set on his feet, tucking it in between his head and shoulder and then he begins to pick up a song that sounded to be oddly familiar, the same song that revolved around their meeting, the same song that drew him closer, made him flick a coin and compelled him to pester the Norwegian everday, despite being lashed at or impudently ignored. Maybe if he did, he would be lost in the orchestra of the song and then he would relive that very same day, have another chance to hug him, kiss him, love him and be with him.

At least as he continued to play the song with match avidity, poised in his position and with an emotional tumor growing inside of him, swelling turgid, blocking his air pipes, strangulating him and yet he knew he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help the pain that was so bittersweet because he knew that forever was just another life away until he would find himself underneath Mathias’s sight again.

Truly, truly. For someone who had never seen the world—a ray of light, or a loom of shadow—the last 6 months with the man he so dotted had been so beautiful.

End.

[killmvnger]

What You Need (Part 6) 5 / 4 / 3 / 2 / 1

Killmonger/Black!Reader

Warning: This is just build-up

Summary: You didn’t go to the club to find a man, but you sure as hell leave with one. (I seriously need to change this summary, so much has happened)

Erik Stevens felt like a force of nature, unstoppable and unchallengeable, slowly sneaking into your mind when you didn't want him to, embedding himself in your life without a second thought. He made you want to change things for the better...starting with your horrendous wardrobe. He's only seen you in your special occasion thot dress and his baggy clothes, so he isn't aware that your closet is a wasteland of old sweaters and ripped jeans. You're ten minutes into tearing your closet apart searching for an outfit appropriate enough for wherever you were going, which he didn't tell you about, not even when you texted him about it. His reply was a laughing emoji.

Half of your room had clothes strewn on it and in the middle of it all, you, seconds away from having some type of meltdown at the realization that you don't own the wardrobe that you deserve. Huffing in silent defeat, you put on a pair of black leggings and your oversized grey sweater.

By the time your phone started buzzing the text of his arrival, you had already fixed your hair and makeup in the mirror, so you picked it up and started walking downstairs. You spotted Erik's Bugatti parked in front, a stark contrast to the patchy grass and uneven sidewalks around it. Your neighborhood wasn't the best, by far, with its loitered grass and crumbling streets that the city never cares to fix, but it's always been enough for you. You wouldn't be surprised if people were lurking in their windows watching his expensive show car wondering what the hell it was doing here all out in the open. He was standing beside it, leaning coolly against the hood of the car waiting for you, so you scurried faster towards him.

You checked him out from head to toe, which he noticed with a conceited smile.

"Hey," you greet in a bashful whisper. The sun shines down on his moisturized skin brilliantly, making his dusky skin glow a creamy brown, and his dark eyes lighten enough for you to see his irises. He still intimidated you, still made you feel so much smaller in his presence no matter how much he let you talk back and, in a twisted way, that only excited you. His arms wrap around your waist and you instinctively latch yourself around his neck as you're being pulled in.

He kisses you and it's unexpected but not unwelcome. You stand on your toes to reach him, kissing back with an equal vehemence, and softening under his firm hands gripping your body closer. As ridiculous as it sounds, you missed kissing him - or, the feeling of kissing him. The feeling of burning all throughout the inside of your body yet still being plagued with the chill of goosebumps on your skin. He could make your hairs stand up by a simple slip of the tongue, a small grunt into your mouth, a calloused hand trailing down your waist. You squeal on his mouth as his arms drop to your hips and lift you up, spinning you around twice before setting you back to the ground. You're laughing through his adamant kisses, lightly patting his chest to stop his attack on you. Playfully, he pinches at your side and pecks your cheek before finally pulling away. You're in a daze, of course, the same dopey one you slip into whenever he's around and all you can see is him.

He bites his lower lip, looking you up and down. "Wassup?"

Before you could answer him, a gagging sound chime from inside the car. You turn around, shocked that he kissed you like that with people in the car watching.

"Cousin, must you stick your tongue down this girl's throat before even giving her a proper introduction? You bring me all the way down here just to make out with your girlfriend?" Shuri's head sticks out of the back window, frowning in clear disapproval. Princess Shuri. You quickly smooth your hair down and make yourself somewhat presentable.

"I'm not his girlfriend --" "Not my girlfriend--" You both protest at the same time.

At least you're both on the same page about something. Excitedly, you skip to Shuri's door, sticking an awkward hand through the cracked window. She shakes it, amused at your eagerness, and you tell her your name, stuttering only slightly. You don't even care if Erik's judging you for being so nervous, it's so overwhelming to meet royal figures. She laughs and it's such a heartwarming sound that you find yourself laughing with her.

"I'm Shuri. Nice to meet you." She greets back. You disconnect your hands and turn back to Erik, who is rolling his eyes. You peer closer into the car to the seat next to her, which you notice T'Challa is occupying. He waves at you.

"Beautiful. Nice to see you again." He says. A silly giggle bubbles its way up your throat at his nickname for you. Honestly, you needed a recorded video of T'Challa calling you all kinds of cute nicknames in that accent and you'd be set for life.

"Hey, T'Challa. It's always nice to see you." You reply, feeling the heat rush to your face. He winks back at you, playfully. You glance back to Erik but he's turned away from you and already getting back in the car, so you follow his example, opening the door and settling into the passenger seat beside him. "So, where are we going?" You ask as you're buckling up. Erik looks down at your outfit with a disparaging smile and snorts.

"To the mall, it's looking like." He utters, managing to drop your confidence from a solid eight to three. You glance at your black tennis shoes in disdain, regretting not just sucking it up and stealing Aaliyah's chunky boot heels to up your outfit game.

"You didn't tell me what to wear. This is a neutral outfit!" You defend your basic fashion while casually refraining from cursing him out in front of his royal siblings.

The last thing you want is for T'Challa and Shuri to know exactly how explicit and horribly informal you truly were, but you gave Erik a side eye you hoped would be brutal enough to inflict actual pain on him. Not everyone has three fucking closets.

"I ain't say nothing because I wanted to see what you'd come up with. You look like you 'bout to go jogging and shit." He judges a little rudely. You squint at his sudden attitude.

Shuri scoffs. "Do not listen to him, you look fine." She assures you, but Erik is sucking his teeth beside you as he puts the car in drive. You look from him to the back where Shuri and T'Challa were sitting rather uncomfortably. There's this weird energy in the car, you realize, like Erik was legitimately angry at T'Challa, who wasn't even really speaking. You smile back at T'Challa for reassurance and he offers a kind look back to you, but there's a stiffness to him that's a little uneasy. His eyes turn back to his window, staring out at your street with a guilty expression.

"Where exactly are we all going?" You ask to break the tension.

"They are going to get some work done," He points to the backseat. "And we are going to eat."

"But --" Shuri starts, but he holds his hand up to silence her. "Cousin!" She exclaims.

"I don't even wanna hear it, Ri. I already told yo ass." He shuts her down quickly. She sits back, crossing her arms. You felt like you were imposing on a private family matter.

It's eerily quiet for the first five minutes of the drive, mostly because Erik neglected to turn the radio on, and the only thing you could actively give attention to was the steady beat blasting from Shuri's headphones. You tried to start a conversation but somehow everything reached a complete dead-end, even with T'Challa. So, you sat and kept to yourself, occasionally glaring at Erik through the corner of your eyes and occasionally scrolling down your Instagram feed. The only thing that tore your eyes away from the dancing baby on your feed was the car coming to an abrupt stop in front of a large office building about ten minutes later. Shuri's hand touches your shoulder as she opens her door.

"See ya," she pats you before slipping out of the car with T'Challa right behind her. He just waves his exit. You watch as they stroll past the security and into the building with an ease that only comes with having authority. Without the audience, you turn back to glare at him.

"The fuck is your problem? It was nice meeting the princess, but all this extra shit with the silence and insulting how I look? You really got me fucked up!" You exclaim. You weren't even about to call his ass in the first place and, technically, he didn't even call you.

"Chill out, shorty, it's not that deep. I'm aggravated. Not at you." He sighs. His face looks dejected with his scrunched eyebrows and pouty mouth so you can believe that he's feeling a certain kind of way. You reach your hand out to his, lightly touching him without being too assertive. He doesn't look like the kind of guy that responds well to a deeper emotional connection in these situations.

His eyes linger down to your hands, then slowly trail up to your face. His expression is blank, so you're unsure if you did a good thing or a bad thing, but you decide to roll with it.

"Do...you wanna...talk about it?" You suggest with a squint.

"Fuck no." He replies. You breathe a sigh of relief. Thank God. You barely even wanted to see him, let alone listen to him vent about some shit you had nothing to do with. Once you get involved with his emotional side, you might as well be in a relationship with the man and that's not what this was.

"Cool. Now, suck that shit up and take me out like you promised." You laugh, finally getting a genuine smile out of him. "Sensitive ass." He rolls his eyes at you while starting his car up again.

"Damn, okay."

You laugh at his expression and turn the radio up as he begins driving again. You had a strong feeling that no one outside of his family talked to him the way you did, which was a damn shame because his face afterward is always so hilarious to you. You liked how he'd raise his eyebrows comically high and grin in surprise, looking partially offended and partially amused. There were a lot of small things about him that made you all warm on the inside, and so far none of them had to do with his cold exterior.

"It's not anywhere fancy, right? I just want a McChicken sandwich."

"A sandwich?" He asks, baffled. "I just gave yo ass five hunnid dollars and you wanna go to McDonalds and shit? I need to un-humble you."

"I don't need to spend thousands of dollars on a meal, nigga, just gimme two McChickens and a chocolate shake on the side! I'll be fine!"

"You want me to cancel the five-star restaurant reservation I made so you can eat fast food?"

"Who's really doing all that for lunch? You are the most bougie ass nigga I've ever met in my life. But you're 'royalty', so it's not a surprise."

"Why you say royalty like that? Watch that tone. I'm a real nigga. And if I got the means, me and my girl ain't about to slum it at some fast food place with terrible service and rachet workers."

You smirk. "Your girl?"

He's stopped at a red light when you say it and he turns to you with a deadpan expression. Your eyebrows wiggle suggestively.

"Don't." He commands. If you didn't listen when Bryson Tiller said it, you sure as hell don't need to listen to him, so you continue on anyway.

"That's bold of you to just say." You keep going. "Is that why you're doing all this? You want me to be your girl?" You ask rhetorically and giggle at his faux-annoyed expression. "I don't know, I think you need to earn the right to call me your girl like that." You tease.

His eyes held not even the slightest trace of the light humor emanating from you. They were soft, but cut through you like glass, drawing you closer to something that you didn't understand. Though, his face did not correlate with the intensity of his eyes, calmly smiling and as relaxed as ever. Usually, his eye contact felt elating like you were flying on the highest of clouds with a warmness that comes from your underbelly and spreads all over you like a blanket. All his stare does now is make you anxious, nervous, and twitchy as you wait for a response you're not even sure will come. You start to internally freak out, afraid you've subconsciously taken a harmless joke and struck a chord with him. He turns away from you and back to the road seconds before the light switches.

"You won't let me." He whispers before taking off again.

It takes a couple of seconds to digest his sentence and when you finally do, he's already on another topic.

"Who allowed all these niggas on the road? Can't nobody drive! The fuck!" He speeds past a slow-moving Prius, honking angrily as he did so.

Maybe now is not the time to address whatever the hell he means. With a little difficulty, you let his remark slide for the moment and stick a pin in it for later.

He continues on with the drive giving into his phase of road rage, cursing out a few students drivers, flipping off cabbies, and speeding past the 'bitch made' cars.

You stop in front of his suggested restaurant, of course, because he doesn't do compromises well. You look up at the fancy place with apprehensive eyes, wondering about the scene and the people and what you'd even look like in that environment. His hand touches yours, not grabbing but resting.

"Calm down, you're with me." He assures. "If anyone makes you feel uncomfortable at all, I'll buy the fucking place and we can eat there by our damn selves. Okay?"

"Do we have to do this? I don't see the reason."

"The reason is that you deserve quality food. Don't worry, I got you." He reminds you with a shake of his head. You blush and look away.

"Okay," you mutter. He leans towards you, gripping your jaw and turning your head back to him. Your foreheads graze as he regards you, drinks in the sight of you.

"Kiss me," he orders. You push up against him, letting your lips meld together lightly, then all at once. You almost hate how good it feels to kiss him. He pulls away five seconds into the smooch and looks down at you, questionable. "You good?" He asks.

"Yeah," you smile in a way you can only assume is ridiculous by how much your cheeks start to ache. He pecks your lips once more before unbuckling your seat belt for you. You both exit the car and the valet immediately comes to take the keys and park the car. The walk inside is less intimidating than you imagined, it's surprisingly pleasant and without one single old white person to look down at you. In fact, there weren't many white people at all despite how incredibly expensive the place looked. You were about to ask him about that, but a waiter appeared beside him and began leading the two of you past the other tables towards the back.

He paid for a private room, of course.

The lighting is dimmer inside of the large back room, casting a soft, orange glow on everything in the room. A square, dark mahogany table sits in the very center of it all with two velvet chairs opposite each other. There are a few plants in the corners and other expensive knick-knacks sitting atop various shelves on the dark brown walls. As you continue your admirable stare, he nudges you from behind to take your seat. You stumble forward slightly before taking the dozen or so steps it took to get to the table, then sitting down in the plush seat. The waiter sets your respective menus on the table and makes himself scarce, speed-walking back through the door you entered through to tend to others.

"You bring a lot of girls here?" You ask. And, honestly, you don't why you ask the question, but it spews out before you could contain the thought. He shakes his head, unweathered by your inquisition.

"No, but I won't lie, there were a couple." He says.

"I figured. This whole set up is pretty smooth." You compliment.

"Bet you glad we ain't go to McDonald's."

"Don't speak so soon, I ain't taste they burgers yet." You joke.

You open your menu and frown.

"It doesn't show any prices." You notice, flipping through the laminated pages in confusion.

"It's not supposed to. Just get whatever."

You've gone your whole life being as frugal as possible, always handling money, especially if it were not yours, with care and responsibility. There was never room in your life to go wild with cash, to always eat whatever you wanted at whatever the cost, to have random extravagant lunches for no reason and not question the bill. You know that on some level he understands what you've gone through and why you respond the way that you do to his showcases of wealth, but at the same time, he doesn't understand. He's had money for the most part of his life so, humble beginnings or not, he can't feel how crazy this is for you. You scan through the menu and like a muscle memory you skip over the steaks and lobsters and settle on the burger selections.

As you finally decide on your order, you peak over the top of your menu to peak at Erik. He looks to be contemplating between a few things on his menu, looking back and forth between the words with a wrinkle in his eyebrows. You find yourself in one of those moments where you can't help but delight in his handsomeness. You like when his dreads are loose and wild, framing his face shape so perfectly. He's made even more beautiful underneath the warm glow of lights. His eyes snap up to you like he could hear your inner commentary. You blush and raise your own menu higher to shield yourself. He laughs at your clear embarrassment.

"What?" He asks. You set the menu back down, instantly feeling less protected than your makeshift shield allowed you to be.

"Nothing. I just...I like your hair like that."

He smirks. "Had to make it easier for you to grab on to. I know you like that shit."

Your eyes widen.

"You seem pretty confident about having sex with me again. Who's to say I don't just eat this meal and leave?"

"Your pussy." He smiles and you roll your eyes.

"Anyway, I think I'll be ordering the smokehouse barbeque burger." You ignore his comment and try to change the subject matter.

Thankfully, he lets whatever dirty thoughts plaguing his mind go and follows along with your swift and obvious subject change, commenting on which dish he wants. The waiter, whose name you didn't catch, times his arrival perfectly and swoops back in to take your orders and offer the prince some special wine on the house.

"So, what is it that you do? You know, other than being the Prince of Wakanda."

"I'm the head overseer for the Outreach Program in Oakland, the big building beside Shuri's science thing. I'm not there all the time, but I get my notifications when I need to drop in and handle some shit."

"Seriously? That's amazing."

"Yeah, I'm pretty amazing." He boasts and you kick his leg from underneath the table.

"Oh, my God, shut up! I'm just saying...someone with your status wouldn't need to do that. It's...admirable that you do." Your cheeks burn predictably, but Erik looks as pleased as ever. "I've been to that building so many times. It's kind of weird that we haven't crossed paths already."

His eyes shift from yours down to the table, then back up again. He smiles, perhaps too smoothly, but it's enough to get you to smile with him. "Yeah. Crazy."

If he was being weird, you didn't comment on it.

"Enough about me, though. You ain't never tryna talk about yourself."

"My life is ridiculously boring compared to yours."

"I don't care. Bore me! I'm feeling weird as shit witchu knowing all my business and I barely know where you live."

"You know where I live." You deadpan. He scoffs.

"Not the apartment number or anything."

"Girls don't just give away their apartment numbers to strangers."

"You know what I mean."

You sigh, eventually caving. You decide to tell him about where you work, the busy barista hell-zone flashing back to you horribly. When you got the job, you were desperate as hell and needed any kind of money you could get to keep up with rent money, and now it's like you were stuck there with the mediocre pay and over stressful work environments with the bratty managers and annoying co-workers. You tell him that Casey has the best job out of your trio, despite being the lazier of you guys and having a strong dependence on marijuana. 

You tell him about moving away from your family after high school and how that change almost made you give up on yourself until your best friends pulled you back together. You wouldn't get too deep into your familial relationships, quite like him you had things too depressing to bring up in casual conversation. You tried to focus on the good things, like that time you won those free Drake concert tickets from a radio station, and when you took that trip to New York and met Captain America. He's surprisingly content in listening to you ramble on about anything and everything you could think of.

"Captain America, huh?" He asks once he see's the expression on your face.

"Don't judge me. He's my favorite Avenger, wherever the hell he is now." You comment, thinking about that whole 'rogue Captain America' news headline.

"No comment."

Your food finally arrives and you immediately get to eating, slightly uncaring that he's staring at you devour your meal. You have to begrudgingly admit that this meal beat any fast food you could ever think to order. Sitting there having lunch with him felt more natural than it should have, all the playful banter and lingering stares were enough to leave you wanting to do it again. There still remains a stubborn part of your brain that believes this is all an elaborate prank, that he's not really the person he pretends to be in front of you. Though, his comforting presence seems to be drowning that nagging voice out more and more.

You're a little bubbly from the wine as you get back into the passenger seat of his car. You hadn't realized how long you two had been in there, but the sky was getting darker already and Erik spend the time it took to walk back to the car asking you to go home with him again.

"I told you I have work tomorrow, I have to get home." You slur while buckling yourself in.

"C'mon, I'll get you back home before then." He uses his persuasive voice, which sadly hasn't failed him yet.

"I don't know."

He picks your hand up and presses his lips to your knuckles, slowly kissing upwards while keeping steady eye contact with you. "C'mon, baby, lemme take care of you tonight." He whispers to you. You bite your lip, contemplating. You know damn well that if you were traveling to his place tonight, you wouldn't be leaving in time to get to work tomorrow. But if you went home instead of leaving with him, you'd be frustrated the rest of the week.

On one shoulder, you had Casey in a white dress, smoking the holiest of blunts, telling you that you have responsibilities. On the other was Aaliyah in a red bodysuit yelling at you to continue ho'ing. You knew you had absolutely too much wine if that's what you were imagining.

Screw it.

"Okay. Yeah, let's go." Your reply. He smirks wickedly before starting the car up.

(I hate this chapter, but I love you guys so I had to finish & post. Things seem tense with the royal family 👀👀 hmm)

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