#not chasing love from someone who flip flops on whether they want him or not | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sundaysundaes · 4 years ago

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Spectra

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader/Female OC | Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff | NC-17 | Soulmate AU, Childhood-Friends-Become-Lovers AU

The second part of Monochrome. Read the epilogue here.

Summary: Lee Donghyuck once believed in the concept of soulmates—how fate would connect a red thread from one lover to another, in a form of dreams and memories. That was how his parents met, that was how they claimed their happiness, and he wanted nothing more but to live his life the way they lived theirs. Until one day, as he sees her slipping away from his hands, he has no choice but to stop believing entirely.

Donghyuck woke up with his heart in his throat. His eyes, as they bore into the ceilings of his room, swallowed by the darkness, were shaking in both fear and rapture. Two things occupied his mind, forcibly pushing his other thoughts away and rendered them pointless.

First, he knew it wasn’t just a dream. Like what she’d previously mentioned, it felt nothing like a dream. He was completely aware of everything, perfectly sane, and could thoroughly remember every detail, every scene, every word that she said even after he woke up.

Second, he was certain that it was a memory, and although he was in it, he knew it was her memory and not his, because there were parts of it that felt vague to him before but were crystal clear now as he saw it through her point of view. He had his first soulmate dream, there was no doubt about it.

So that brought him to the next question.

Why did he dream about her? She’d found her soulmate, hadn’t she? And she had explicitly stated many times that her soulmate was not him, but a complete stranger—one that she only knew by his face and not his name. So, wasn’t he supposed to be connected to someone else—to see someone else’s memories?

He leaned up, sitting on his bed with his elbows sinking into his thighs, his fingers yanking at the roots of his hair. “Fuck, I don’t get it,” he whispered to himself, feeling a little bit lightheaded from all these unsolved questions swirling in his brain. “Am I her soulmate? Do I still have the chance to be with her?”

But even a chance would be enough, he soon decided. Even just reliving her memories every night, knowing her better, seeing her longer, that would be enough reasons for him to continue with his hope.

Perhaps, he could believe in soulmates for a little longer.

There were a few short memories he saw in his first soulmate dream, most of them were from her childhood days which made him feel content to the point he wanted to never wake up because these flashbacks always had him in them. He was an integral part of her childhood memories, the one who shaped her into the person that she was now.

But the memory that shook him the most was the memory of the time they went to the beach during their summer vacation with his family. Donghyuck watched himself sneak out of their cottage in his grey hoodie placed underneath a beige varsity jacket. He saw a few months younger version of himself, grinning from ear-to-ear, as he shouted in whispers.

“Come on, Noona, hurry up!”

“Haechannie, it’s two in the morning!”

The sight of her had always warmed his heart, but in this dream he was having, her beauty seemed almost ethereal as if her entire being was a piece of art with the sole purpose of being loved and admired.

“Which is the more reason why we should hurry up before they find out, Noona, for God’s sake, come on!” He grasped her by the wrist, yanking her forward so he could close the door behind her. They stepped down the stairs in a hurry, their flip-flops making creaking sounds on the wooden surface.

“If your mom finds out and she—” She abruptly ended her sentence with a yelp as she tripped on her feet, clutching her arms around his shoulders for balance, pressing her chest involuntarily against his back. The boy threw a glance over his shoulder, clearly enjoying the way she had her arms wrapped tightly around his body. Smirking suggestively, he cooed, “Baby, you’re so aggressive. At least, buy me dinner first.”

“Asshole.” She retracted her hands at once, shoving him harshly until this time, he was the one who tripped down the stairs, falling face-first on the ground, inadvertently swallowing some sand into his mouth. She concealed her marbled teeth with her fingers as she giggled at the sight, but began to run for her life when he growled, “I’m going to kill you,” and chased after her trails with his arms reaching out to catch her.

The reason they had their feet dipped in the sand at two in the morning was simply because Donghyuck couldn’t sleep at the sight of her curling beside him on the thin mattress that was laid out in the living room. The cottage only had three rooms, one was used by his parents, another one was supposed to be used by her and his twin sister, and the last one was for him and his two younger brothers to snuggle up together in a cramped bed. But Donghyuck had insisted to sleep outside so he could watch a movie before bed and his parents didn’t mind, even if his neighbor ended up joining him in the middle of the night upon his request.

So when she fell asleep next to him, her face almost sinking into the crook of his neck, and her hand laying on his stomach, mistaking him as her usual body pillow, Donghyuck had to distract himself before he thought about doing something sinful. So he shook her by the shoulder, told her to wipe the drool away from her face, and asked her to follow him outside, mentioning that he suddenly had the urge to stargaze. And although a train of complaints kept tumbling down her lips, she followed—she always did, no matter where he led her to.

“What are you doing?” He questioned the girl who stood next to him, looking like she wanted him to do something. “Sit down next to me, come on.”

“I’m waiting for you to be a gentleman.”

“What?”

“Aren’t you supposed to lay down your jacket on the ground so this lady right here won’t have sand on her shorts? You’re wearing two jackets, after all.”

“Yeah, but not for you to sit on it.” Donghyuck, who had already sat down on the damp sand, rolled his eyes. “You watch too many dramas. Guys don’t do that in real life.”

“It’s you who don’t do that.” And with pouty lips, she quietly added, “Jaemin did that for me.”

“I heard that.”

“I wanted you to hear it.”

“And so how are things going on with this Jaemin so far? Is he still giving you sloppy blowjobs on the weekends?” He faked a gasp, one hand covering his mouth for dramatic effect. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot he broke up with you.” A cheeky grin crawled up his face. “On. Your. Fucking. Birthday.”

“Whatever.” She blushed. “At least, he’s hotter than you’ll ever be.”

He seemed more annoyed than he should, and she was on the verge of thinking whether her joke was going too far but Donghyuck exhaled loudly into the air, standing up on his feet again and tore his varsity jacket off his body. “Here,” he said, as he spread it out on the ground. “Your majesty.”

“Why, thank you, my prince.” She giggled, plopping down on the sand. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

And they ended up throwing playful kicks and punches to each other again like the other million times they did, before they finally laid side-by-side on the sand, sweaty and out of breath.

“Haechannie.”

“What?”

“Do you think we'll still do this after we get married and have kids?” She asked, gazing at the stars that gleamed radiantly in the black night sky.

“Us?” Donghyuck rubbed his nose, a speck of sand making his skin itchy. “Like, in bed? Well, I don’t know about you, but I think I might be into rough sex, but maybe after a few years deep into our marriage so you won’t—”

“Not us getting married, you idiot!” She grappled another handful of sand, threatening to throw it on his face but Donghyuck already had his arms raised in surrender. “I mean, do you see us hanging out like this when we already have our own families to think about?”

“I don’t like to think too much.” He nonchalantly shrugged. “It’s still way ahead in the future. I’d probably die an early death from being too rich and handsome, anyway.”

“You’d die from being too dumb.”

“I was talking about me, not you.” He swatted her hand away when she was about to shove him in the chest. “Speaking of getting married, why don’t we make a pact?” Though his heart was racing a bit faster, he kept his lopsided grin intact as they shared eye contact. “If, after we turn eighteen, we end up having no dreams of our soulmates, why don’t you and I get together?”

She unexpectedly blurted out laughing. “I can understand if you think that there’s a chance of me not having any soulmate, but the chance of me not finding anyone more decent than you as my husband? How dare you, Lee Donghyuck.”

“I’m just saying,” he repeated, turning on his stomach. “If by the time we turn thirty or something we still haven’t found anyone, why don’t you and I get married?”

“I thought we’ve promised somewhere along the way in our poor little friendship that we’d never talk about this again?”

“I think we’re mature enough to have this conversation by now. So, what do you think?”

She was still on the verge of laughing. “What I think about what, Haechannie, you’re being absolutely crazy and embarrassing—”

“Why is it so hard for you to just say yes and marry me?” He insisted, holding back a laugh himself because her smile was so contagious. “Is it seriously that gross for you to think of me as your husband?”

“It’s not that, it’s—Oh my God, okay,” she finally gave in, heaving the heaviest sigh before she sat up properly and turned toward him. “Look, you’re not exactly the most romantic person out there.”

“Hey,” he pouted, scowling a little. “I can be romantic. You just don’t know it yet because you’ve never seen me on a date.”

“Yeah? Then try me.”

“Try what?”

“Be romantic. Do something that can make my heart flutter for you, oh my mighty prince,” she jeered, throwing a challenging, mocking smile at him. “If you can make my heart skip a beat, I’ll marry you.”

He scoffed. “Man, I know you’re shy but you don’t have to challenge me with this pathetic dare if you want to marry me that bad.”

She stood up immediately. “I’m leaving.”

He was chuckling as he captured her by the wrist. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, wait.” He tapped his chin, nibbling slightly on his bottom lip. “Let’s see… What should I do…. What should I—oh!”

She raised an eyebrow, seeing him stand up on his feet. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna take you dancing.” He offered her his hand and she stared at it with reluctance written in her eyes before she sighed and took it. He pulled her abruptly with all his strength to make her stumble on her feet, but he caught her just in time by circling his arms around her waist, leading her close until they’re chest-to-chest.

“Blushing yet?” He teased, smirking.

“I’m starting to think this is a bad idea,” she flatly said, pushing him away but he took her hand and placed it on his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“As I said,” he paused, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and running his thumb along the screen. He chose one of the acoustic songs in his music playlist—Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud which made her scrunch her nose in protest—turned his speaker to the highest volume and hid the phone in the pocket of his hoodie. “I’m gonna take you dancing.”

She snorted but followed his lead, landing both of her arms on his shoulders. “Why am I not surprised that your song choice is something from Billboard’s Top Twenty?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I left my compilation of classic slow dance songs back at my house, along with my ballet shoes and my tutus.”

She narrowed her eyes at his sarcasm. “Okay, Ed Sheeran it is then.”

The first half of the song went by in what felt like hours to her from all the tension that arose between them. While she moved rather awkwardly, trying to match how his body slightly swayed from one side to another, Donghyuck smiled, softer than she could even begin to imagine, and gently asked, “Can I move closer?”

She could faintly feel his breath on her face even in their current position, but she gave a weak nod and answered, “S-sure.”

Donghyuck held back a grin. “Was that a stutter?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I do stutter from time to time, idiot. Everyone does that.”

“Okay, okay, geez. Cranky, much?”

“I’m just not sure if—” she took a sharp intake of breath when he suddenly leaned closer, his lips almost grazing against hers before he pulled away to give very little space between them. “You’re not playing fair,” she whispered, trying not to focus on his lips.

His eyes were half-lidded as he took in her features. “You didn’t make any rules.”

“I hate you.”

“Man, I was hoping you’d feel otherwise, but,” he guided her hands so they could circle themselves around his neck, as he moved his own lower on her body, resting on each side of her waist. “I only just started, so…”

She was breathing a little heavily, but not expanding the space between them, afraid to lose the game. She didn’t want to give him any more reason to ridicule her. “Right, so, what’s next? Because you’re not making me feel anything with this, Haechannie.”

He slowly brushed her bangs away from her eyes, his fingertips grazing against the soft skin of her temple. “Have I told you about the day when I realized I love you?”

That question almost rendered her frozen on her feet, but she caught herself at the last second. “A pick-up line?” She tried to pretend it didn’t have any effect on her by scoffing out loud. “Seriously?”

But Donghyuck was not laughing nor reciprocating in any teasing manner. His eyes were dark and deep, with all kinds of emotions swirling behind them. The tone he was using when he spoke his next words was filled with nothing but sincerity and candor.

“Maybe I’ve loved you since the first time we met, but…” He added a small chuckle as if he was shy and she wondered since when did he become such a good actor? “I guess I was too young, but I do remember that one time when I saw you and I thought,” he exhaled, reaching up a hand to cup her cheek before he pressed his temple against hers, “God, I gotta have her.”

She gulped hard, feeling her breath hitched in her throat. She just hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“You were wearing this beautiful red dress that I’d never seen you worn before, but it wasn’t just how pretty you looked that caught me off guard.” His words didn’t have as much effect on her as the tender way he regarded her with his deep, brown eyes, just utterly mesmerized by her everything. “It was the way you call my name with that adorable shy smile on your face, asking me about how you look and I just….” He leaned down so they’re eye-to-eye, with his fingers holding her face and his thumb caressing her cheek. “I just thought that maybe I want to keep you for myself. I want to hear you say my name, to show me that smile again, over and over—every day, for the rest of my life. I don’t want you to belong to someone else. I want to be the only one you can think about, both in your reality and your dreams.”

As if she was being hypnotized, her eyes began to solely focus on the way his mouth was shaping praises and terms of longing.

“I’ve never seen you as a friend, or a sister.” He was so close, so warm, so intoxicating. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything—anyone—as much as I want you now and it fucking hurts to hear another guy’s name escaping your lips because I just really…” He sighed. “Really want you for myself. All of you. Your kindness, your warmth, your crazy bedhead, your stupid, silly grin whenever you won a game against me. I want everything, and I need you to feel the same way, to need me as much as I need you.”

“Haechannie, I—”

“Listen, Noona.” His voice sounded both pained and desperate. “I know you don’t feel the same way, you don’t have to tell me that but I just—I want to be selfish, even more than I already am, and let you know just how much I want to be with you,” his other hand traced along the dip of her spine, “and hold you,” the fingers that were cupping her cheek were now holding her by the chin, his thumb running along her lower lip, “and kiss you…”

She unconsciously parted her lips, perhaps putting her best effort to find her words but failed every time and the temptation that he felt to replace his finger with his own lips on her was too overwhelming so before anything went wrong, he pulled back and loudly yelled, “Okay, cut!”

The sudden loss of his touch on her body didn’t feel as disheartening to him as the look he saw on her face, and maybe the way the moonlight shone across her features was playing tricks on him, because she seemed… disappointed that he stopped.

Maybe she just got carried away with the moment. Or maybe she could tell that he was being honest the whole time, knowing that it was an actual confession rather than another crazy antic of his. And maybe she was about to give him the chance, to actually look at him in the same way he looked at her, to feel the way he felt about her, and…

And he ruined the moment.

“N-Noona?” He started when she fell quiet, hiding her eyes behind her bangs. “Are you—”

“It’s getting late,” she suddenly mentioned, bending down to grab his varsity jacket from the sandy ground and harshly pushed it toward him. “Let’s get back to the cottage. We need to catch some sleep.” And as she walked off, not glancing back to see whether he was following or not, Donghyuck noticed how red her face was even when there wasn’t enough lighting around them.

As a bystander in this memory, eighteen-year-old Lee Donghyuck felt a hollow forming inside his chest, swallowing his presence one-by-one until he ceased to exist because as he relived the situation for the second time in his life, he knew how badly he had screwed everything up. He had turned his honest confession into another teasing joke because he just wasn’t brave enough to take the risks—to tell her his actual feelings in fear of ruining the bond that they already had. He saw the look on her face vividly this time, and it wasn’t pure rejection. He had a hope, she was about to give in, and he lost his chance.

And now, as she fell harder for the stranger she met in her dreams, Donghyuck was nothing but a memory—one that she’d bury at the back of her mind, one that she’d pretend to never have existed in her life.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Hyuck,” he muttered under his breath before he blinked himself awake.

***

“Haechannie! Are you up yet?”

Donghyuck could hear a clanking sound on his window, perhaps from small rocks hitting the glass. Rubbing the headache away from the back of his head, he stepped down from the bed, taking heavy steps to greet the person standing on the other side of the window.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” his neighbor chirped with an excited smile, leaning half of her body forward, crossing over her window frame. He noticed how her eyes took a quick detour on his body, as he was not wearing any shirt, but she tried to act nonchalant about it. “A lady is gracing you with her presence, so get dressed.”

Usually, he would’ve said something flirty along the line of “But isn’t this how I always look like in your dreams?” But this time, he kept himself quiet, only sighing to himself as if he had troubles that he couldn’t talk about.

And she noticed. She always did. “Are you okay?”

“Just had a bad dream.” He shrugged, feeling sleepier than before he went to bed.

“I’m guessing, you haven’t met your soulmate yet?”

He hesitated. “Well, I saw you.”

She blinked, a bit startled, but she promptly laughed it off. “Right, must have sucked then. You were waiting for a pretty stranger and I popped out instead. Sorry about that.”

He tapped his fingers against the railing, somewhat agitatedly and impatient. “Noona, about last night when we accidentally kissed. Did it… make you feel something?”

He swore, she almost fell to the floor out of shock. Blood was rushing to her face, making her incoherent. “What—why—I thought we were going to pretend it didn’t happen—”

He knew it was probably a bad idea to question all this, but if he did have the chance to be with her, no matter how small it is, if she really did feel the same way, he had to know. He couldn’t make the same mistake again.

“I thought about your reaction after that kiss. I just want to know whether it made you feel something.” He was gripping the railings by then, sounding desperate, craving for her honesty. “Something about me.”

She sputtered, mouth gaping as she was rendered speechless. But before she could react any further, they both heard her mother calling her name. Donghyuck regarded it as a distraction, but to her, it was a lifesaver. Speaking in a sense of urgency, she said, “I gotta go.”

“Noona—”

“Haechannie.” The tone she was using was definite, not wanting to hear more words from him. “I think we should stop talking about it, especially when we’re a step closer to finding our soulmates.”

He frowned, feeling as if he just got impaled. “What are you—”

“I know his name now.” A weak smile appeared on her face. “I heard someone calling his name in my dream last night. That was what I was going to tell you.”

It appeared again, the hollow inside his chest, and it grew even bigger, sucking every part of him like a black hole. “So you’re going to pretend nothing happened between us?”

“Yes, because nothing happened between us,” she professed. “It was just an accident, Haechannie.” She seemed exhausted, almost as if answering his question was draining her physically. “None of us wanted that kiss to happen.”

Donghyuck glanced away, giving her the cold shoulder. “Sure. Whatever.”

She sighed, tired of his behavior. “Look, maybe you’re just confused because of everything that happened last night, what with us spending time alone holding hands, me giving you that locket with those words—maybe we crossed the line and I apologize for that since half of it was my fault. But whatever it is that you think is happening between us will disappear the second you meet your soulmate in your dream,” she claimed, using a tone like how a mother would console her crying child. “I don’t ever want to be apart from you but if being with me makes you feel awkward and uncomfortable, maybe it’s best if we keep our distance for now?”

He gaped, his heart almost leaping out of his chest. “No! That’s not what—”

Her mother’s voice rang through the air again, making her flinch. “Look, I really gotta go,” she softly said with a timid smile. “We’ll talk later?”

And before he could answer, she already stepped away from her window. She didn’t look back until she had her fingers curving against her doorknob. “Oh, and umm,” she paused, looking unsure before she looked sideways. “His name is Mark Lee, my soulmate. Just thought you should know.”

And she left, trampling on his heart with every step she took.

***

There was an invisible wall between them, and no matter how hard Donghyuck tried to tear it apart, it wouldn’t budge so instead of fixing things, he decided to give her the time and space she needed.

Because what else could he have done? She had already rejected him before he could even confess properly—or for real, this time around. It was as if she was scared to give in to her feelings, which made him feel even more confident that she had felt something for him. She was just too lost in this whole soulmate concept that it blinded her entirely, while he, on the other hand, had begun to stop believing in it and dwell himself deeper in reality rather than his dreams.

But when one of his bandmates, Lee Jeno, announced that his cousin was going to come in to temporarily fill the position of lead guitar player in their band, Donghyuck had no other choice but to believe that fate did take part in connecting a red thread from one lover to another. Because, standing in a pair of jeans and a black shirt with his eyes half-covered by his white snapback, was Mark Lee—her soulmate.

Donghyuck could tell that he was the same Mark Lee she mentioned because he had seen her drawings of him. It had taken her weeks before she could finish his sketch, drawing him solely based on the memories she had witnessed in her dreams and though it wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, she did manage to sketch his distinct features—his prominent cheekbones, his thin, curvy lips, his wide, doe eyes.

The sight of him, standing just two meters away from him, sent chills down his spine.

“Hey guys,” Mark said, giving them a tentative smile. Even his awkwardness looked exactly the way she described him to be.

“This is Lee Donghyuck, our vocalist.” Jeno introduced him, “He’s an ass and you’ll probably get into a fight with him sooner or later—we all did—but after that, he’ll get all clingy to you. Just a heads up so you won’t be surprised and end up leaving the band before the gig.”

Mark laughed at that, friendly and warm, and it set Donghyuck’s heart ablaze for an entirely different reason. It was the first time he met him and yet he already despised everything that he was.

“It’s weird,” Mark said, offering his hand for a handshake. “I thought your friends call you Haechan too.”

Donghyuck froze, almost losing his grip on his phone. “What?”

Mark blinked, the realization hit him like a wave when he looked around, noticing everyone looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and questioning eyes. “Oh, I mean,” he panicked, “I-it’s nothing. I was just talking to myself. I’m weird that way.”

“Don’t worry, bud,” Jeno said, picking up his bass. “We’re all a bunch of freaks here. That’s why we get along.”

Mark smiled but seemed more like a grimace. He turned toward Donghyuck again. “Sorry about that. Nice to meet you, Lee Donghyuck. I hope we can be friends.”

Donghyuck took his hand but wished for the exact opposite.

***

“Do you have some time to spare, Donghyuck-ah?”

Donghyuck already knew who it was without having to glance up from his phone screen. It wasn’t because Mark’s voice was distinct to his ears, it was simply because his voice and the way he said his name as if they were best friends irked him so much.

“No,” Donghyuck answered, tapping his thumbs rapidly to earn another high score on the game he was playing. He was squatting down on the ground with his shoulders slouched forward. They just finished having their third band practice in the same studio that week, and although he was drained to his boots, Jeno kept insisting to have another practice so they wouldn’t embarrass the shit out of themselves when they performed as the opening act at prom.

Mark laid his guitar case against the wall before he took a seat next to him in the alley that stood behind their music studio. “Well, you look like you do, so I’m just gonna sit here and ask you something.”

Donghyuck scoffed. “You’re actually pretty annoying, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t like me—”

“I dislike people in general, so don’t consider yourself special.”

Mark seemed amused at his words which pissed him off even more. “I know we just met for a few days and it’s probably better for me to leave you alone—”

“And yet, here you are, talking to me when I’m trying to finish this fucking game.” He moved his thumbs more frantically than before, making Mark worry that he was going to break his phone screen, and stopped when the game ended with him winning second place. “Look what you’ve done. Happy now?”

“I thought that was a pretty high score.”

“That was the lowest score I’ve ever achieved in my life.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just fuck off, Mark.” Even when his tone sounded final, Mark did not budge.

“I promise I’ll leave you alone after this, but I just really need to ask something first,” he said, slightly forcing the other man to look at him by placing an arm on his shoulder. “I see you a lot in my dreams.”

Donghyuck knew exactly what he meant, but he wasn’t going to dwell himself in it. “Sorry, dude,” he uttered, slapping his hand away. “I’m not gay.”

“No. That’s not what I meant.” Mark had the bravery to laugh about it. “You’ve heard about the soulmate dream, right? How you could see your soulmate’s memories—”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about it and I’m also not interested.” He stood up, tucking his phone back to the pocket of his jeans, and leaned sideways to grab his backpack. “I’m leaving.”

“Please.” Mark stopped him by wrapping his thin fingers along his wrist. “Please help me. By your reaction, I know she’s told you about me and I want to find her—I need to find her. I just don’t know where to start. I don’t even know her name.”

“Well, it’s not my fucking problem, is it?” Donghyuck harshly pulled his wrist away, stomping his feet on the pavement, away from the other man.

Mark stood up, desperation sounding thick in his voice. “Can’t we just—Donghyuck-ah!”

“Fuck off, Mark.”

“You love her, don’t you?”

That stopped him in his tracks, making him turn on his heels, hissing, “Excuse me?”

Mark fidgeted slightly, swallowing his breath. “You’re acting this way because you love her. More than a friend. That’s why you don’t want to help me.”

He had earned his whole attention now. “The reason why I’m not helping you is simply because you’re a fucking stranger who’s looking for ways to get into my best friend’s pants.”

“I’m not—” Mark blushed. “Listen, I’m just trying to find my soulmate. I know she’s looking for me too. I’ve seen her memories. I’ve seen you spending a lot of time with her too. I won’t be surprised if you end up having feelings for her—”

Donghyuck almost bared his teeth. “Shut up.”

“But she’s not your soulmate, so—“

“Shut the fuck up!” It happened so fast for Mark’s eyes to catch, but the next thing he knew, Donghyuck’s fingers were fisting the collar of his shirt, slamming his body against the wall and Mark groaned lowly, feeling pain spreading like wildfire from the back of his skull.

“You don’t know anything about me, Mark Lee.” The way Donghyuck spat out his name was laced with nothing but venom. “And don’t you dare talk to me about this soulmate bullshit. Falling in love with a complete stranger just because you saw her in your dreams? Do you know how fucking ridiculous you sound in my head?”

Still wincing from the pain, he replied, “I saw the way you looked at her.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Donghyuck snarled, tightening his grip around the fabric of his shirt. “And if I were you, I would just fuck off and try my luck finding her somewhere else because I’m not gonna tell you anything. Do we have that clear?”

Mark didn’t say a word in response, but his eyes were locked into his. Donghyuck could see how they didn’t waver in the slightest, and the way Mark’s fingernails were sinking deep into his wrist let him know that this man could hold his own battle if needed.

Donghyuck released his hold with a hard shove, and Mark didn’t blink an eye even after knowing his strength.

“Just so you know,” Mark said, when Donghyuck began to step away, slinging his backpack to one of his shoulders. “She would’ve done the opposite for you. She would’ve helped you find your soulmate. But I guess, you already know that.”

Donghyuck stomped off, kicking a trash can on his way out until it toppled over to the ground.

***

Their next band practice was filled with nothing but severe tension between him and Mark, and Jeno had to sigh in exasperation every time one of them made a mistake and blamed the other for it.

“The two of you,” he said, scowling at the two boys who were still trying to murder each other with their glares. “Just go home. Now.”

And unlike Mark, Donghyuck didn’t hesitate—didn’t even try to reason. He just snatched his backpack and walked out the door, slamming his shoulder against Mark’s on his way out.

Jeno grimaced, probably imagining the trouble Mark had to bear while seeing him rubbing off the pain. “Remember when I told you he’s an ass?”

Mark timidly smiled. “Yeah.”

Donghyuck walked home with a sore throat and sweaty bangs. He was no longer as furious as before, but he had to make sure to push every thought of Mark away from his head if he wanted to spend the rest of his evening in peace. He was beyond exhausted and in desperate need of a good, warm shower. He glanced at the house he grew to be more familiar than his own, feeling disappointed that she wasn’t sitting on her porch, waiting for his arrival like usual though she would never admit that out loud.

Well, he should’ve seen that coming. After what happened that morning, he would’ve avoided him too if he was her. But almost a week had passed and they had no interaction, not even meeting each other by coincidence. And although she seemed fine with it, Donghyuck felt more than miserable.

God, if only I can stop missing her so much…

But he couldn’t, so he broke through her fence, and turned over the doorknob of her front door. “Auntie? It’s me. I’m coming in.”

The clicking sounds of footsteps meeting vinyl flooring had him excited in anticipation of her face and the shy, awkward smile she always threw whenever they had arguments a few moments before. But the one who greeted him was her mother, grinning widely at the sight of him as she wiped her hands on her apron.

“Ah, Hyuckie,” she squealed. “Glad you’re here, I was just making dinner. Wanna join us?”

“Oh, no thanks. I just ate something on the way back. Is she here?”

“She said she was heading to the park to draw something. It was hours ago, though. I’m also wondering why she hasn’t come home yet.”

“I see…” There was a knot in his stomach again, making him feel uneasy but he beamed at her again. “Well, I think she’ll be back soon but I’ll go search for her, just in case.”

She pressed a hand against her heart. “Aaw. Always being her knight in shining armor. She’s so lucky to have you.”

He blushed but covered it with a peal of bashful laughter. Saying his goodbye, he turned around to take his leave but she stopped him with a call of his name. “Yeah, auntie?”

“Have you heard…” She hesitated. “Have you heard about her soulmate?”

Donghyuck curled his fingers. “A little.”

Her eyes gleamed in sadness and, as much as Donghyuck hated to see it, sympathy. “Are you okay, Hyuckie? With all of this?”

Thunder roared inside his chest, making him stand still. “What—of course, I’m fine. I’m glad she’s having these dreams. She’ll probably gonna see him soon.”

And Donghyuck never pegged himself as an actor, but seeing how she gradually picked up her motherly smile back on her face and no longer staring at him as if one of his family members just died in such a tragic way, maybe he had a natural talent in lying about his emotions.

“I’m so glad you’re taking this well. I guess I’m not as sharp as I used to be.” She chuckled to herself, a bit diffident. “To tell you the truth, I was rooting for you to be her soulmate. You guys just look so adorable together, but maybe it’s weird for you since you probably think of her as a sister or something.”

“That’s right.” There was a crack in his voice, but he hastily covered it with another smile. “A sister.”

“Which turns out to be a good thing. Because if you love her that way but she’s not your soulmate then it’s going to be hard on both of you.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You see, finding a soulmate is a rare, wonderful thing that can only occur once in a lifetime. It’s a sign from fate, and if you ignore that sign, if you don’t accept who your soulmate is and be with someone else, something bad will happen, either to yourself or to your relationship.”

“Something bad like what?”

“I don’t know, it just usually doesn’t work out.” She frowned a little bit, noticing how he seemed unusually invested with the topic. “It’s just a rumor, though, darling. So just take any of this with a grain of salt. No one can prove whether it’s true or false.”

“Of course, yeah.” He shook his head, taking control of himself. “Well, thanks anyway. I gotta go.”

“Take care, Hyuckie. And let me know when you start dreaming about your soulmate! I want to know who the lucky girl is!”

He waved a hand, replying to her with a smile but not promising anything.

***

It was already nightfall when he came to his senses, and he hadn’t found her no matter how many steps had he taken in the search of her presence. He had visited the park she often went to in her spare time, the garden near their houses, even the cafe where she once grew fond of. And yet, she was nowhere to be found.

He had tried to call her several times but they were always directed to her voicemails, and he grew even more anxious with more time passing by, worried sick of her well-being.

So when she finally walked past his house, carrying her sketchbook in her arms and a dazed smile on her face, Donghyuck nearly screamed.

“Where the hell have you been?!” He shouted, jumping off his porch and ran to her spot. She was startled, her entire body shaking by the sound of his voice. Her sketchbook slipped from her hands, meeting the cold hard ground that was slightly damp from the drizzle.

“You scared me,” she said, her hand going to her chest. “I was just from the park—“

“I was from the park and you weren’t there!” His eyes were scanning her profile, making sure she was fine. “Where have you been? Do you know how late it is?”

She frowned. “Why do you sound like my mother?”

“I’m not—” Donghyuck exhaled loudly through his nose, trying to collect himself. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m fine, so you can stop acting so weird.” She bent down to pick up her sketchbook, but he was faster. “Thanks.” She awkwardly smiled when he handed it to her, noticing how his fingertips brushed hers ever so slightly. “Have you been looking for me all this time? I thought you were avoiding me.”

“I thought you were avoiding me.”

There were a good few seconds of silence where they just gazed deep into each other’s eyes before they began to quietly laugh, exchanging sheepish smiles with knowing eyes. “I guess we avoided each other for nothing then,” she said, holding out her hand. “Are we okay? With everything?”

Donghyuck’s eyes were soft and longing as they peered into hers. He took her hand and pulled her forward until she landed on his chest, embracing her tightly with both arms. “We’re okay.”

“Good,” she lightly murmured, placing her chin on his shoulder as she tiptoed to match his height. “Because I’ve missed you, Haechannie. You and your whole stupid antics.”

It still felt awkward for him, and maybe for her too, to suddenly ignore their heated debate about the kiss they shared and the feelings they had for each other. And maybe they would fight about it again in the future, probably with him starting the fire the second he lost control of his emotions again. But he wanted to forget all of that for now, just for tonight, so he could focus on how perfect she felt in his arms, how both overwhelmingly intoxicating and comforting her scent was, and how nice it was to hear his name falling down her lips.

“I’ve missed you too, Noona,” he whispered. “You could’ve at least texted me where you were. I was worried sick about you.”

“Okay, that was what I was going to tell you.” She pulled away slightly so she could look at him with a pair of animated eyes. “I just went on a date.”

“A… date?” He shivered. “With who?”

“With Mark Lee.” Her cheeks turned rosy with her smile nearly splitting her face in half. “My soulmate.”

Donghyuck gaped, a spark of electricity running through his veins. “H-how?” He swallowed hard.

“A funny story, actually.” She shyly rubbed her nose. “I was trying to draw that pine tree near the pond—the one where we used to carve our names on—and I saw him passing by with his guitar case strapped to his back and a camera in his hand—just like the first time I saw him in my dream. And he saw me through his camera lens and then we were just staring at each other with our mouth wide-open, like can you believe it? It just happened out of nowhere. He noticed me at the same time I noticed him so he must have been seeing me in his dreams too.”

With more words falling from her lips, Donghyuck’s heart raced even faster. It was the first time in his life he ever felt terrified down to his soul. He felt weak, powerless and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find a way to win against fate. He didn’t know how to defy his destiny.

Though she was an arm’s reach away, it felt like they existed in different universes.

***

It’s hard to pretend to be fine when deep down inside, you feel like drowning and Donghyuck knew how that felt first hand. She regularly came by to his room to say hello but she never laid herself down on his bed. She never touched his arms when she laughed. She no longer pressed her cheek against his shoulder when she felt sleepy. He could tell that she was trying to respect his feelings, not wanting to lead him further ever since that accidental kiss happened. She was trying to be cautious, to draw lines between them, so he’d know his boundaries and stay still on his place, and continue to regard her as nothing but a friend.

It was torture.

They no longer spent their nights together, with her making excuses about studying for her final tests and her college entrance exams. And Donghyuck didn’t mind, though his heart craved desperately for her attention because he couldn’t properly breathe whenever she was around. He felt like he was transforming into someone else, almost like a robot, that only smiled when she smiled and responded with words as little as necessary.

He continued seeing her in his dreams every night, and only then could he truly feel joy. Only then he could have the time to look at her face as long as he wanted. Only then he could hear her calling his name without inflicting some kind of pain in his chest. But even then, he still couldn’t touch her. Even then, she was still out of reach.

She was moving out of town before long, preparing herself to settle at her dorm before she started her first year in college.

“Hey,” Donghyuck softly called, as he leaned against her doorframe, watching her finish packing what was left in her room. It was unfamiliar, he thought, the sight of her room now that her novels were packed in boxes, her clothes were no longer hanging inside her closet, the posters of her favorite idols folded and unseen. It was only her scent that somehow still linger faintly in the air that seemed recognizable to him.

“Hi.” She smiled back, her shoulders going down in relief at the sight of him smiling sheepishly with his eyes peeking from under his bangs. “I was beginning to think that you wouldn’t come to say goodbye.”

“Of course, I would. I’m your best friend, aren’t I?”

“Well, I haven’t seen you in a while.” The way she said it, almost heartbrokenly, made his smile falter from his face.

“Yeah, sorry, I was…” He scratched his cheek. “Busy.”

She took a good look at him, not saying anything and it made him feel queasy. “I saw you on stage during your graduation,” he said, changing the topic. “You looked beautiful.”

“Why didn’t you come to say hi? I was looking for you.”

You did? “You seem occupied with your friends and family. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Haechannie,” she sighed and he wondered what kind of mistake did he make with his words. “You’ll never bother me. I mean, yes, you bother me a lot as in you annoy the hell out of me but you never bother me with your presence. I missed you on that day. I’ve been missing you for the whole week. And I still kinda miss you now.”

He grew weak. “I miss you too.”

“Why do we keep saying these things when we literally live next to each other?” She chuckled but it sounded dry before she gave in to the silence again. “Are things… okay between us?”

He tried not to flinch. “Were things not okay between us before?”

“I don’t know, you were acting a bit weird after…” She knew the words, she just wasn’t sure whether it was wise for her to say them. “Well, after everything that happened. I just wasn’t sure how to approach you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I guess there were just a lot of things running through my mind at the same time.” He brought his head down, looking at his feet. “I’m okay now, though. And I hope we can go back to how we were.”

“Of course, Haechannie.” She stood up, opening her arms to him and he answered immediately, half-running to her spot before he circled his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She sighed the second their skins make contact with each other, exhaling in relief. “Please don’t ever give me the cold shoulder again. I can’t stand it.”

“Okay, okay.” He almost let his lips graze her temple as he spoke. Almost. “Do you want to go somewhere, just the two of us? You’re not leaving until tomorrow, right?”

“I won’t be leaving until next year if that’s what you want me to do.” She grinned childishly. “So take me away, Haechannie. I’m all yours.”

And although he mirrored her grin, his heart was shattering one piece at a time because he knew she only meant her last line as a fleeting joke, and yet he wanted it to become a promise made solely for him.

They tried to catch up as much as they could during dinner in the cafe that she loved so much. He hated the taste of their food—everything somehow felt either too sweet or too sour on his tongue—but he never mentioned it to her, not wanting to erase her happy grin whenever she took a spoonful of gelato into her mouth. Their conversations didn’t go as awkward as he had imagined, but it ended up with her asking more questions and with him only nodding or shaking his head in response. He tried to cover it up with smiles or waves of laughter, and noticing how she hadn’t complained about it so far, maybe he did a pretty good job of masking his feelings.

“It feels so good to have you back,” she said, hands buried deep in the pocket of her coat as she blew hot air into the cold weather, watching puffs of air forming in front of her lips.

They were walking back to their houses, matching their steps with one another with their voices being the only ones that could be heard within the neighborhood. It was late, and she knew she really should have gone to catch some sleep to wake up early on the next day but Donghyuck’s voice in her ears was soothing, making her long to hear more of it, especially when she knew, she wouldn’t be able to hear it again in a while.

Donghyuck sank half of his face behind his scarf. “I never left you, though.”

“Liar. You totally avoided me this whole time.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? You kissed me and pretended it didn’t mean shit.”

“I kissed you?!” She gasped, blushing as she stopped in her tracks. “It was an accident!”

Donghyuck turned around, facing her. “It was still a kiss, nonetheless.”

They were walking on a thin rope. He knew it was a sensitive topic, and she also knew that it was best for them to avoid it but she was leaving on the next day and she couldn’t help but feel that he was still holding secrets from her. It was time for her to face this once and for all, so they could go back to the way they were before it was too late.

“What exactly do you want me to do about it?” She nervously asked, but tried to keep her voice steady. “I can’t exactly turn back time.”

Donghyuck’s eyes glinted mysteriously under the dim lighting of the streetlight. “You really want to have this conversation after what happened to us last time?”

“It’s not like you’re giving me any options. I just want us to be like how we used to, not with you acting all awkward and agreeing to every word I said.”

“So you noticed? I thought I was putting a good act.”

“Haechannie.” It was almost like a plead, the way she said his name. “I’m tired of seeing you like this. Like you’re in pain and I’m the one who caused it. So if you have anything to say, say it right now. What are you so upset about, exactly?”

He took his time contemplating, he really did, but he hadn’t finished thinking everything through before his emotions took control over him again, making him blurt out, “I don’t know, I guess I’m just pissed because you seem fine the next day after that kiss happened and I’m over here losing sleep still trying to sort out my goddamn feelings for you.” There was a pause, as he tried to catch his breath, but before she could form a response, he questioned, “Do you ever feel something for me, Noona?”

She swallowed. “I don’t know, I’m—”

“Be honest.”

Another pause, where silence struck like a hurricane. “Maybe I did have feelings for you in the past,” she finally admitted and his eyes gleamed in both joy and anticipation, “But even then, I wasn’t sure because we grew up together, Haechannie. We slept on the same bed, we even took baths together. I wasn’t sure of how I felt because I never had this kind of relationship with anyone before.” She sighed, rubbing the side of her temple. “And with you constantly making me confused on whether you had feelings for me or not also didn’t make this any easier for me.”

“What about now?” It was the question that mattered the most to him. “How do you feel about me now?”

“Haechannie—”

“No, listen to me.” He stepped forward, wrapping his lean fingers along her wrist. “Remember that time on the beach when you dared me to be romantic and I told you I loved you? I think you know by now that I wasn’t pretending that night—”

She averted her gaze, trying to pull her hand away. “Please stop—”

“Noona.” He cupped her cheeks with both hands, lifted her face so she could only look at him. “I still feel the same way about you. It never changed, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it because I cared about our friendship as much as you do, but—”

“Stop.” Lying a hand on his chest, she tried to push him away. “It isn’t right. You’re not my soulmate, we shouldn’t do this—”

“I don’t care about your fucking soulmate!”

The sudden roar that erupted from his mouth was echoing loud in her ears, making her freeze on her feet, with her hands shivering against his chest. She looked frightened and it tore him to pieces. Cursing under his breath, he stepped away, his skin no longer making contact with hers.

“I just…” He started and failed instantly, wanting to caress her cheek, embrace her to soothe her down but was too scared of startling her again. “What I want to say is that I care about us. I care about you more than I have ever cared about anyone else in my life.”

“I care about you too, Haechannie.” There was a quiver in her voice as if she was on the verge of crying. “I care so much about you.”

“Why does it feel to me like you’re about to contradict your own words?” There was no answer and the tension was so thick, it felt like he was suffocating. “I saw your reaction at that time when we were at the beach. I know how you wished parts of my confession were true and I’m telling you that all of it was—I meant every word I said that night.”

“Stop—”

“I love you, Noona,” he immediately said, before she took his chance in answering. “I really do, now more than ever. So if you still have feelings for me, please—”

“I don’t.”

Donghyuck’s jaw fell slacked on his face. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Haechannie. I’m sorry for leading you on, but I don’t. I don’t feel the same way.” She was looking everywhere but his eyes, her voice was clouded with emotions, becoming unclear as seconds went by. “I care about you and I do love you but only as a brother and a friend. I can’t give you more than that.”

He stood still in silence, clenching his jaws. “Can’t or won’t?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head frantically. “Look, we have soulmates for a reason. Even if we both give in and accept our feelings, what if it doesn’t work out?”

“I don’t care, I’m willing to try.”

“Well, I’m not. I care about our friendship too much. I don’t want anything to ruin what we have now. Especially after I meet my soulmate and you meet yours.”

Donghyuck could feel himself slowly withering away. “So you just want us to go back to how we were? After this?”

“Yes.” He didn’t have to see her to know she was spilling tears from her eyes. It was already spoken clear in her voice. “I-if that’s okay with you.”

And if he was much more mature, maybe he would’ve been able to let everything go. Maybe he would’ve been able to step forward and twist his fingers around the strands of her hair, cradling her gently in his arms and whisper, “Of course. I’ll always be here for you.” But that wouldn’t be him. And he was so tired of being someone else this whole time, trying to hide how he really felt for her.

So, underneath the darkness and the silence of the space that was hanging between them, he told her, “No, I don’t think we can go back to how we were.” And even as he watched her cry, covering the sobs that threatened to fall from her lips with her palm, he said, “I’m sick of pretending, Noona. So if I can’t have you that way, I don’t think I can be your friend and do nothing but sit there, watching you slip away into another man’s arms. I’m not as good of a person as you think I am. And as long as we’re both selfish with what we want—with you wanting to keep our friendship together and with me wanting you that way—this is as close as we can get.”

“What—” Her shoulders were shaking with every breath she took. “Why does it have to come to this—I—”

“Make your decision now.” His voice was loud and clear, making him surprised by how steady he sounded despite all the storms swirling in his chest. “Be with me or push me away. Your choice.”

Tears were spilling down her cheeks as her eyes grew wide, staring at him with parted lips but only whimpers could be heard. He knew how ruthless he was being, and he felt sorry for making her stand in this position.

So, with a heavy heart, he walked away.

***

Days passed by in silence, and they turned to weeks, and months, and when he finally had the bravery to reply to her words with sentences longer than, “I’m doing fine,” and “Sorry for the late response, I had things to do.” It was already several months after his graduation and he was moving out of the place he called home into his dormitory that stood hundreds of kilometers away from her place.

He was nineteen and she was twenty, and he had never loved anyone else while she was tangled deep in her lover’s arms.

And it was maybe his fault because he was the one who pushed her away. She’d asked him to take a day off college so they could fly back to their hometown and celebrate his birthday together but he declined, making random excuses that sounded like a train of lies to her ears but she took notice of his tone and forced out a laugh.

“Then maybe I’ll see you when my birthday comes up?”

“Sure.” But it wasn’t a promise. He thanked her for the present she gave him but ending his call shortly before she even asked about his day.

He sent her a birthday present—a book that she once loved to read as a child, but was thrown away by her mother by accident—and he received five missed calls from her and nine different texts, begging him to answer her calls but Donghyuck was busy burying his fingers deep inside his locks and yanking at the roots with one hand, and rubbing the unspilled tears from his eyes with his other one as he sat on the edge of his bed, swallowed by the darkness of his room.

And he began to fear the night when exhaustion would consume every part of his body and invisible hands began to press his eyelids down until he fell asleep and woke up in her memories. It was painful enough for him to not be able to see himself as often as he used to, and it was torture when Jaemin began to take his place, forcing Donghyuck to stand in the background and watch as he planted his lips on the pair that should’ve belonged to him. He had to hear her gasp Jaemin’s name between kisses, had to see her card her fingers through his sandy blonde hair, had to see her watching him with dazed eyes and swollen lips.

Donghyuck always willed himself to wake up and he found himself breathing hard when he did.

That night, another memory occurred and it was when she shared her first kiss with Mark. They were at her dorm, her roommate was away and she pulled him by the hand to walk deeper into her room. Mark seemed awkward, like how he always did, scanning the room and gulping as he noticed how the entire place smelled pleasantly like her.

“Coffee?” She offered, and he nodded. Taking a seat at the side of her bed, he played with his fingers, trying to hide the quiver that sparked in his fingertips. She joined him soon after with two cups of hot coffee on her hands, which he took with a grateful smile.

“Why do you look so nervous?” She questioned between small, shy giggles that wrenched Donghyuck’s heart from how much he missed hearing them.

“I’m not—it’s just—” Mark gulped, tapping his fingers anxiously against the cup. “It’s my first time being in a girl’s room.”

“Haven’t you dated anyone before?”

“I went on a few dates but nothing serious happened. And when I started seeing you in my dreams, I just stopped dating entirely.”

She was about to take a sip of her coffee but stopped mid-air, eyes unblinking. “You were waiting for me?”

He bashfully smiled. “M-maybe…”

Her eyes drooped down, a faint blush smearing her cheeks. She placed her cup down on her nightstand before she turned toward him again and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“What—” He sputtered, holding the side of his face, his round eyes turning even wider. “What was that for?”

But she didn’t reply. Instead, she leaned in for another kiss, and this time, he answered with his lips instead.

Donghyuck woke up with a pain in his chest, and he felt so sick, so disturbed, that he began to jump down his bed, startling his roommate who was deep in slumber. He snatched his jacket from the floor and closed the door behind him with a small thud. He needed to distract himself so he burst into the night air, not caring if the cold made his teeth chatter behind his lips.

***

His dreams, they became nightmares. And they didn’t stop even when he woke up. He was losing sleep and had the hardest time concentrating on everything. He was putting his best effort to move on, to forget about her existence entirely and he had been successfully avoiding her calls or her pleads to meet up every time a long holiday came up. But how could he forget about her when she kept showing up in his dreams, making him feel jealous, feel pained, with no way of stopping it?

It was a week before his birthday when his mother begged him to come home and celebrate it together with his whole family. Though he was reluctant to go, worrying that he’d probably see her on his way back, he eventually agreed to his mother’s wish. If they ended up meeting each other, maybe it was a sign for him to tell her about these dreams he’d been having of her and see how it would go from there.

It was raining, the third day he spent lounging on the bed in his room. It looked just about the same, but with fewer things and thicker specks of dust. And he kept his curtain closed, not wanting to look at the other side of his window.

A sudden ring of his iPhone sent jolts to his entire body.

It was from an unknown number. He usually wouldn’t respond to it, but there was something in his chest that told him to answer no matter what excuses he came up with.

He slid his thumb along the screen and pressed the phone to his ear, but he did not say a word, waiting for the other person to ignite the conversation.

“Haechannie. It’s me.”

He had a hunch who it was, but hearing the sound of her voice so close to his ear still almost sent him falling to his knees. The words I miss you, I’m sorry I’ve been trying to push you away, but I can’t pretend anymore, I miss you, I miss you so much, I’m going insane threatened to fall from his lips so he kept his mouth shut, not believing in himself just yet.

“I could tell how you wouldn’t pick up if you knew it was me, so I’m using a new number.”

“It’s…” He licked his lips, trying to tame his racing heart. “It’s been a while, Noona.”

“Don’t say that when you’ve been avoiding me for years, Lee Donghyuck. I know you’re home so let me in. It’s pouring outside.”

His grip tightened around his phone. “You’re… here?”

“Yes, idiot. Your mom told me last night that you’re here so I flew back the first thing in the morning to meet you. If you make one more excuse of not wanting to see me, I will literally climb up your wall and kick your window open myself, I swear to God.”

Donghyuck would’ve laughed because it was so her to say things like that whenever she got angry, but he was so overwhelmed with the thoughts of seeing her in person that he tripped over his own feet before he ran down the stairs.

The second he opened the front door and saw her standing on his porch, with her hair a little wet from the rain, all the air nearly left his lungs. She was still wearing her trench coat, a scarf around her neck with her suitcase stood idly next to her. He noticed that she must have returned straight back from the airport, not even spending a second resting in her own house when it was only a few steps away from where she stood.

“Can I come in?” She asked, trembling slightly from the cold. There was a huge urge to embrace her that he almost couldn’t control, to share his warmth and steal all the shivers away from her body. But he swallowed all of his feelings with a hard gulp, and stepped back to let her in with a small nod.

She closed the front door behind her, pressing her spine against it and they both waited in the silence of his house, expecting the other to strike a conversation but neither of them had the bravery to find a word. The ticking sound of the grandmother’s clock in his guest room was loud, matching the thundering sound of his heartbeat.

“Where are your family?” She eventually uttered, peeking at him from behind her bangs.

“Visiting my cousins outside of town.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?”

“Just didn’t feel like going so I told them I was sick.”

“I see…”

And silence struck again. It was so tense, the awkwardness between them and it was beginning to suffocate him. “Noona, I think—”

“Can I hug you?” She spoke in such a quiet voice, but it sent powerful vibrations down his spine. He was busy gawking at her, not sure how to respond and it didn’t matter, because she already took a few steps toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and sinking her face deep into the crook of his neck.

Donghyuck let out a shaky breath, his arms still dangling weakly on his sides.

“Seems like you’ve lost some weight,” she spoke in whispers, her breath felt like fire on his skin. “Have you been eating well?”

It was hard trying to focus on her voice when the sound of his heart clamoring inside his ribcages was deafening in his ears. He only hummed in response, moving his hands slightly until they rested on the sides of her waist, tense and awkward.

“I really,” she breathed, her voice quivering. “Really miss you, Haechannie.”

It was all too much for him to bear, too many flashbacks, uncontrolled feelings, and hidden emotions washed over him at the same time, making him feel dizzy and emotive. So instead, he focused on what mattered the most. “You’re shivering. We should get you changed.” And he pulled away before she could reply. Noticing how the loss of their warmth on each other’s skin was as painful for her as it was to him, he offered his hand with a timid smile, which she immediately laced together with hers.

He guided her to his room and released her hand to rummage the inside of his closet, trying to find that particular sweater of his that she grew to be fond of. She slid open his curtain to brighten the room though it didn’t do much because the clouds were dark and thick, pouring heavy rain to the earth.

“Here,” he said, handing her his navy blue knitted sweater. “I’ll go outside so you can change.”

She grabbed him by his wrist before he stepped aside. “No, it’s fine, just—” She cleared her throat, didn’t dare to look him in the eyes. “Just turn around for a little bit.”

The old Donghyuck would’ve had a blast teasing her about this, so when he simply turned around, bringing his head down to stare at his feet while scratching his nape from being both shy and awkward, the feeling of loneliness began to consume her heart.

She was losing him. He wasn’t the person she remembered him to be.

“I’m done,” she called when she had finished changing her damp blouse into his sweater. The fabric fell loose around her body, its hem reaching to the middle part of her jean-clad thighs. “You can turn around now.”

Donghyuck slowly turned on his heels, but his eyes were looking everywhere but hers because he knew, once he saw her again wearing his clothing around her body like a lover would, he would lose his common sense.

“It feels familiar, doesn’t it?” She lightly laughed, trying to keep it casual but it felt strained. “I mean, us spending time in your room with me wearing your clothes.”

He tiredly smiled, leaning against the wall. “Yeah.”

“How was your birthday yesterday? I’m sorry for not sending you any present, I wasn’t sure you wanted to receive one from me... Did auntie make you a cake?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t good.”

She tucked a loose strand of her hair, wetting her lips. “You always said that, but you ate all of it.”

He wanted to sneak a glance at her, wanted to be captivated by her beauty just for a split second, but noticing it was best for him to stop. Otherwise, she’d entrap him again. “Yeah… I did.”

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“Can you look at me, please?”

He tightened his jaw, taking a few seconds in silence to prepare himself before he slowly looked up, peering at her features from behind his bangs.

He had seen her sad before—multiple times, in fact—but it was never like this. She never looked this heartbroken before, and he loathed the fact that, unlike any other times where she cried over anyone else, he was now the reason for such emotion to arise.

And maybe he looked the same to her, as she instantly grew speechless, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sweater. “How… are you?” She asked, and he knew that wasn’t the question she intended to say but maybe she was afraid and uncertain whether her words would inflict more sadness to his eyes more than she already did so far.

“I’m doing well.”

“Have you made any friends at your campus?”

“A few.”

“Ah… Great, then.” She was going insane, she could feel it, and when he never tried to spark a conversation like she did, she began to lose her patience. “Why have you been avoiding me?” Her tone somehow a tad colder this time around.

Donghyuck slipped his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You ignored my calls, you rarely replied to my texts—”

“Yeah, well, I was busy—”

“Two years, Haechannie. You had two fucking years to reach out back to me, and you’re simply telling me you were busy?! If you’re going to lie, lie better!”

“Well, you already have your whole life perfect without me anyway.”

Hot tears began to well in her eyes. “Do you not… need me anymore?”

He looked away, his chest suffocating. “You should leave. Get some rest. We’ll talk la—”

“Stop it!” She cried out, forcing him to look at her in the eyes by the desperate tone in her voice. “Stop acting like this! Stop pretending like you’re not hurting when you are just as much as I am!”

His eyes gleamed in the dim lighting of the room. “Why are you even here?”

She narrowed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain that was about to erupt from her chest. “Is it so wrong for me to see you?”

“I thought we’ve both decided that it’s best if we stay away from each other.”

“You decided.” It was both sorrow and anger that painted her voice. “You decided to stay away from me. I never wanted us to be like this. I’ve been trying to reach out to you and you pushed me away every time, so don’t you dare blame this on me.”

“What do you expect me to do?” He vocalized in outrage, his voice reverberating through the air almost as heavy as the storm that poured outside. “I revealed all of my feelings out to you, asked you to make a choice and you just stood there doing fucking nothing! How do you think that made me feel?”

She stepped back, her hand on her chest. “I—” She fumbled with her words. “It was all so sudden, I didn’t know how—”

“So sudden?!” He threw his head back in exasperation. “I have been trying to tell you that for years, Noona!”

“You flirted with me for years, that didn’t count as—”

“Well, I had to pretend everything was a joke because you always looked like you were seconds away from crying, afraid of ruining our friendship and it made me think that maybe you never really liked me that way at all! I don’t even know how you feel about me now because you’re never honest even with yourself.”

“I…” She nibbled on her lower lip, scared and anxious. “I don’t know whether I—”

“Of course, you don’t,” he spat out, scoffing loudly. “You never do. That’s what I fucking hate about you. You’re such a coward. You don’t want to be with me but you keep coming back to me, making me feel things I shouldn’t, making me yearn for you again when I literally spent every second of my life trying to forget you even exist. I had to watch you slip away from my arms twice as if it wasn’t enough for you to hurt me one time—”

“I never meant to hurt you—”

“But that’s all you fucking do!” Donghyuck unintentionally slammed the side of his fist against the wall out of sheer fury, making her take a step backward, terrified. “Do you know how much you’re driving me insane from seeing you here within my grasp but not having the right to touch you in the way I want to? Just how fucking selfish can you be?!”

Tears were forming in her eyes, but he wasn’t sure whether they emerged from sadness or anger. “I’m selfish?! I’m trying to do the right thing! You know how things can go bad if we ignore the signs and deny our soulmate, so even if I agree to be with you, what if things don’t work out and we end up—”

“I’m so fucking tired of soulmates.”

Donghyuck had her body pressed against the wall, his hand on her face and his lips on hers, meeting together in a heated kiss. She closed her eyes in reflex, her fingers clutching tightly to the fabric of his shirt, gasping into his mouth when he pressed harder. Donghyuck felt like a flame, scorching every inch of her skin that was connected to his and she let herself grow weak, succumbing to the fire that was about to devour her whole.

When he let go, the tip of his nose was still grazing against hers, his fingertips holding her by the jaw, while his other hand was secured tightly around her waist.

“I’m giving you another chance to make your decision.” He breathed out, hot breath caressing her skin. “Be with me or push me away. Your choice.”

Her eyes were half-lidded, her breathing ragged and Donghyuck could count her eyelashes if he wanted to. It was torture to keep this little space between them because to him, they were like magnets, both desperately drawn to each other, wanting to consume one another.

Maybe it was like that for her too, because when she took her next breath, she had her fingers around the collar of his shirt, tugging it down so their lips met once again in a searing kiss.

It felt complete—no, it felt more than complete. It made him feel infinite. Every touch, every gasp, every little whimper that came out of her mouth made him feel alive and he wanted more, he wanted everything. He wanted her.

And to her, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and it didn’t feel like she was doing something sinful, something forbidden. Everything felt right, the way her body fit his perfectly, the way he moved his lips against her, with the touch of their tongues nearly sending her down to her knees.

“Haechannie,” she breathed heavily as he ran his lips down her jaw to her neck, before he moved back up again, melding their lips together because he couldn’t waste any second longer being apart from her.

The desperate call of his name rendered him powerless so he pressed himself against her harder, embracing her better so they could hold on to each other. And by the relieved sigh she made as she circled her arms around his neck, her fingers finding a home in his hair, she must have felt the same.

“I love you,” he murmured against the supple skin of her neck, making a messy ponytail out of her hair to expose more skin. “Fuck, Noona, I’ve never loved anyone else but you.” He lifted her body up the wall, leaving her with no choice but to tangle her legs around his waist for balance, his hands sliding dangerously along her thighs as she connected their mouths again.

Donghyuck’s voice was deep and hoarse, foreign to her ears but she loved it. She loved everything new she found about him, as much as she had loved everything about him in the past. She knew she wasn’t being fair; she knew it wasn’t a good idea to hold him like this, but it felt so terrifyingly good and there was not a part of her mind and body that shouted for her to stop. He was her puppet master, plucking on her strings, and she didn’t mind being tangled under his fingers.

She flinched when she felt him pressing his hips against her, pinning her against the wall and he noticed as she moaned a bit louder against his mouth, pulling a similar groan from the back of his own throat. The sound of her lustful cry made him go absolutely insane and not familiar with his own strength, he carried her to the bed, making her yelp in shock and wrapping her legs and arms around him tighter in the fear of falling.

But the way he laid her down on his bed was surprisingly gentle, sliding down a pillow underneath her head before he dipped his face down, pressing a warm kiss on her temple. The sudden change of pace made her blush, cheeks blooming red as she became conscious of how he gazed at her features—how the previous loneliness in his eyes was replaced with both felicity and uncertainty, asking for her sign to stop or continue with everything.

She swallowed her breath when he stood on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head, his silver necklace glinting faintly under the soft glow of thunder that flashed on the other side of the window. She flinched, not from the fear of lightning, but from the way his vulnerable eyes were filled with need and affection. She had once told him that Jaemin made her feel wanted—made her feel desired—and she thought that was really the case, until she saw the look Donghyuck gave her and suddenly everything that Jaemin did felt pale in comparison.

Donghyuck needed her like a drowning man needed air.

So when he bent down and kissed her again, she felt like he was unraveling her soul, stripping her naked both her body and her mind, and as if she was a blank canvas, he cast iridescence on her skin, drawing lines with his fingertips and painted a spectrum of colors with his lips.

As a man of passion, Donghyuck’s kisses were strangely tender but it elicited as much fire, if not more, as any fervent kisses she had ever shared with the other two men in her life.

“Noona,” he abruptly stopped, eyes unfocused as he broke away, expanding the space between them but only for a few inches. “You’re not regretting any of this, are you?” It was the question he’d been dreading to ask, but he had to before she ended up living with guilt. “I told you to make a choice before but…” He cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb against her skin in such a soothing manner that she would’ve probably fallen asleep to it if her heart wasn’t racing like this. “But if you feel like this is not what you want, you can back out anytime. I’m not going to force you, and I’m not going to leave you even if you push me away now. I’ll still be your friend, I promise, so it’s okay.” He smiled but the only thing it conveyed was sadness. “It’s okay if you want to put an end to this. It’s okay if you don’t want to be with me. It’s your choice.”

She wasn’t sure why, but she felt like crying. “Well, I’m not okay with it.” She ran her thumb along his lower lip, in a paper-thin-like touch. “I think you’ve noticed by now that I…” It was too much. It really was too much for her to admit it without being flustered.

“Tell me,” he pleaded, gently taking her wrist when she was about to cover her face with her hands. “Tell me how you feel about me. Please.”

She shook her head, heart thumping loudly. “I can’t—It’s embarrassing. You already know how I feel anyway.”

“But I need to hear you say it.” He kissed her palm, leaning against her touch like how a little kitten would. “Please?”

Her voice was quivering when she spoke. “I love you, Haechannie.”

He’d heard her say those words many times in his life, but only now, they felt different in his ears. And almost like a prisoner being released from his chains, he nearly whimpered in bliss. “Y-you do?”

She shakily nodded her head once. “You were right. I’m a coward. I’m too afraid of losing what we have, not realizing that we can actually become so much more.”

He smiled, small but lovingly. “And it’s fine even if I’m not your soulmate?”

She was entranced with the way he kissed her fingertips one by one. “I don’t care.”

“I love you too, Noona.” His tongue was wet and slick when she felt it against her earlobe, his voice sounding dangerously close and sultry, even when his words were innocent. “You don’t know how glad I am to finally hear you say this. I’ve tried so hard to move on but I couldn’t. It’s just—for me—” his lips hovered above hers again, and she felt his whispers directly on her skin. “There’s no life without you.”

She carded her fingers through his hair, pushing back his bangs until she could gaze directly into his eyes. “There’s no life without you too, Haechannie.”

As they were connected, both their bodies and minds, it felt like nothing mattered anymore. They already had what they needed, already owned what they craved, already found what they were searching for. Donghyuck was sheathed deep inside her, his kisses were wet and languid, passion never dissipating no matter how many times he had tasted her.

It never felt unnatural, never felt awkward, and there were no uncertainties whenever their skin made contact. It was almost as natural as breathing, and though they needed more experience in some parts, they were already content with everything that they shared. Every breath, every gasp, every moan was sending heat to every inch of their bodies, making Donghyuck’s bangs stick with sweat and her cheeks reddening from his feverish touches.

When it finally ended, both still feeling lightheaded from reaching their highs, orgasms hitting hard like waves in a storm, Donghyuck was shaking, murmuring both expletives and praises against the skin that covered her heart, making her shiver.

“What is it?” She questioned tenderly, gentle fingertips caressing his cheekbone. “You’re trembling.”

But he didn’t answer, laying his head down on her chest, her heartbeat vocalizing faintly against his eardrums. He had never felt so happy, so complete, so perfect, and it was all because of her.

“I’m…” he exhaled heavily, lost for words as he sank deeper in his own elation. She curled her fingers around his jaw, lifting his face so they could peer into each other’s eyes.

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I know it’s late, but…” She beamed at him. “Happy birthday.”

And he kissed her with so much fervor, his eyebrows adjoined in passion and he whimpered against her mouth, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye and she smiled, hugging him close because finally, after seventeen years had passed, they truly found each other.

He was her life, and she was his, two different souls united into one.

***

Almost an hour passed by with them just enjoying each other’s company as they laid side-by-side on the bed, with Donghyuck idly sucking more bruises to her skin and her panting his name against his pillow. He was trailing his fingertips from her nape down to the dip of her spine as she laid with her stomach pressed against his sheets, slightly quivering from his touch.

Both of them lacked the energy to get dressed or wash their sweat away from before, and instead just dwell further in each other’s warmth, basking in the soft glow of the sunset that had replaced the storm.

“Why did we wait so long to do this?” She asked with her cheek pressed against the pillow, looking at him with drowsy eyes.

He snorted. “Because you were too big of an idiot to notice and too goddamn stubborn to—”

“Forget I asked.”

Donghyuck grinned to himself but she soon felt it on her skin. “I’m still sweaty, Haechannie, get off me.”

“No way, I want to enjoy this,” his nose was skimming against the skin of her back. “It’s not every day I have a naked lady lounging on my bed. In fact, I’ve never had one. Ever.”

“Yeah?” She turned around, covering her bare chest with his quilt as she looked at him. “What about your girlfriends?”

“What girlfriends?”

“You know, the ones you got together with in high school. You told me you had sex with them.”

“Oh.” His playful smile grew sheepish. “I lied about it.”

“What? Why?”

“I was just trying to make you jealous. You were hanging out with Jaemin and I was so pissed!”

“I can’t believe how lame you were.”

“Hey, I was desperate!”

“So…” She slowly said, drawing her name on the square of his chest with her fingertip. “I’m your first?”

“You’ve always been, on everything.”

Her breathing tattered, blood rushing to her face, turning it scarlet. She moved her hand to his neck, playing with the silver necklace and the oval locket with her fingers. “I can’t believe you still wear this.”

“It’s the best present I’ve ever had,” he replied, leaning close until their foreheads meet one another. “From the best girl I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Stop saying things like this, I can’t handle it.” And she hooked her finger around his necklace, dragging him down to close the gap between them.

They both smiled into the kiss but what was once innocent and chaste, became deep and ardent in a matter of seconds. Donghyuck’s fingers were slipping underneath the comforter that she used to cover her body, feverish skin meeting her cold one and he looked at her in concern. “Are you cold?”

“Just a little bit.” She chuckled awkwardly before it was replaced with a gasp when he pulled her up by her waist and positioned her on his lap. He snatched the quilt away from her in one quick motion, leaving her naked and exposed before she toppled down to his chest. His hands found their way back around her waist, drawing her close so every inch of her skin was pressing against his. His warmth began to seep into her, and he draped his blanket around their bodies again.

“Better?” He looked up, his teeth peeking behind his grin that was both teasing and shy at the same time.

She melted into his touch, wanting to taste his lips again. “Better.”

She was distracted with the way he ran his tongue along her lower lip, sneaking in as soon as she granted him entrance to her mouth, but found her focus back when his hands start to roam around her chest. She immediately covered herself with both hands, embarrassed out of her mind.

“Why are you covering yourself?” He asked, chuckling faintly though his cheeks were reddening by the second. “You were fine when we had sex before. Let me see.”

“I just remembered that you once said I have small boobs.”

Donghyuck’s jaw hung loosely on his face. “That—I was just joking! I love your boobs—I love every—” He thought hard for the right word and failing miserably. “—every aspect of them, how soft they are, the little moles you have, and how they jiggle when—Why are you laughing?!”

But she couldn’t stop cackling even when he was pouting about it, complaining that he was being serious. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping a tear out of her eyes. “It’s just you were so dominatingly sexy before when you slammed me against the wall, and now you’re acting like such a dork, which is also cute but—” and she laughed again, covering her mouth with her fingers which he immediately took and replaced them with his mouth, turning her soft chuckles into pleading moans.

He cupped her breasts with his palms, groaning at the back of his throat from how perfect they felt under his hands, massaging them gently until she had to break away from the kiss, nibbling at her lip to contain her whimpers.

Donghyuck trailed more kisses down from her neck to the valley of her breasts, before he attached his soft, plump lips on her sensitive nub, making her arch her back in response. He peeked at her reaction from under his eyelashes, almost losing his mind from the sight of how alluring and sinful she looked. “Does it feel good?” He knew the answer but he needed her praise. He had waited for all this time to have her crying out his name in pleasure like this, he guessed he’d allow himself to be selfish just for tonight.

She shakily nodded, eyes tightly shut in pleasure but he didn’t stop until he had her whimpering, “Yes, yes,” into his ears.

“So about what you said before,” he continued, nipping at her sensitive skin with so much fervency, enough to leave purple bruises by the morning. “About me being dominatingly sexy. Is that the kind of thing you’re into?”

She shivered, looking like she wanted to escape his touch. “I—I don’t—” she stammered, having the hardest time finding her words especially when he had one of his eyebrows raised tauntingly. “Stop teasing me.”

“Guess being friends for seventeen years doesn’t really mean you know everything.” He chuckled, sliding down his hand between her thighs but stopping before he got too close, asking for permission. “Can I touch you here?”

She bit her lip, nodding slowly.

“Can we… have sex again?”

“Stop asking questions, and just do it.”

Their second time was much slower, more playful with a lot of teasing and exploring and it was the kind of sex that felt more like them, reminding them of how carefree they were back in their childhoods days, or the flirty banter they shared during their small escapes every summer. It took them hours to be satisfied with one another, at least until the next day started, that by the time they were finished, it was already nighttime. But even after they were dressed back in their previous clothes, they still found their way back in each other’s arms.

“I wasn’t sure to ask about this before but,” Donghyuck snuggled closer from behind, his lips almost brushing against her nape when he spoke in both curiosity and uncertainty. “How are things with Mark?”

“It’s so like you to ask about stuff that mattered after you got what you want,” she responded, making him pout and cower behind her. “We’re still going strong, actually. He said he’d ask me to marry him after we both graduated from college.”

He froze, literally stopped breathing. “What?”

“I’m kidding.” She turned around, tapping his cheek. “You’re cute.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry.” And when she laughed, he pouted even harder. “Well, truth is, we broke up over a month ago.”

“What—” Shock filling his eyes. He thought he had known everything about her from seeing her memories in his dreams but maybe he hadn’t seen anything yet. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t aware we were on speaking terms what with you avoiding my calls and ignoring my texts.”

“You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” He sighed, playfully biting her at the part where her neck met her shoulder. “Why did you break up with him anyway? I thought soulmates were meant to be together, not that I’m complaining though.” He couldn’t help but display his cheeky grin. “I’m actually happy—it’s the happiest moment in my life, dare I say.”

She scoffed, shifting on the bed again so she wouldn’t have to face his annoying grin. “It certainly not the happiest moment in my life but as long as you’re happy, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, come here.” Donghyuck sneaked his hands around her body, hauling her toward him until he could press his chest tightly against her back, burying his nose in her hair. “So, what happened?”

“Well…” She huffed, leaning against him. “Mark and I… We’re so similar in a lot of ways and I find myself more compatible with him than anyone, which feels kinda weird, if I’m being honest. Like, we share the same thoughts, we make the same decisions, we listen to the same music, love the same movies and everything. Unlike when I’m with you—” she stopped when she felt his arms tightening around her. “Wait, before you start fuming, listen to me first.” He sighed but nodded his head twice before he landed his face on her hair again. “What I meant was when I’m with you, we argue, we tease each other, we fight over stupid little things so we can look back on it in the future and have a good laugh from realizing how dumb we were being. And that’s what makes it exciting for me. You make me laugh, you make me upset, and when you suddenly disappeared from my life it was like…” she tried, but whether she was too shy or too confused to say the words, Donghyuck wasn’t sure so he helped.

“Like a part of you was missing?” He offered with a smile, nuzzling closer to her.

“Well, I don’t want to sound that cheesy but for the lack of better words, yes,” she admitted. “I just really couldn’t stop thinking about you. I missed you in the way I’ve never missed anyone before, like I kept seeing you anywhere I go. Whenever a Michael Jackson song came up in my playlist, I thought of you. Whenever I saw a movie, I remembered how you would always scrunch your nose in protest when something didn’t make sense. And I felt awful every time because I wasn’t supposed to think about you at all. I was supposed to think about Mark, and how he always tried to make me feel comfortable in his arms, kept asking me whether the room temperature was too cold or too hot, whether I needed another cup of coffee or—”

“He actually sounds pretty nice,” he murmured against her skin. “I’d date him if I were you.”

“Exactly, he’s too perfect.” She turned around, placing both hands on his shoulders. “He’s too perfect, Haechannie. That’s my problem.”

Haechan snorted but he also seemed amused. “This is why boys have problems trying to understand girls.”

“Doesn’t it make sense, though? You have so many flaws—like, so many. You have more flaws in you than your strengths.”

He flatly stared back. “Thanks.”

“But that’s what makes you interesting.” She reached out a hand, playing with the waves of his hair. “That’s what makes you adorable.” When she noticed him turning slightly red on his cheeks, she chuckled awkwardly. “Or maybe I’m just a freak who has a kink for annoying brats, I don’t know.”

Donghyuck smiled softly in return, rubbing his thumb in comforting circles on the skin below her eye. “Well then, I’m glad you have a kink for annoying brats like me.” And when they kissed, he could feel her grinning against his lips so he tore himself away, frowning. “What?”

“I didn’t realize you were this sappy and clingy.” She giggled, pecking his nose. “You really love kissing, don’t you?”

“I love kissing you,” he corrected, slightly wincing at the thought of the previous kisses he’d shared with his former girlfriends. “There’s a difference. And I’m not sappy, I am full with affection.” She teased him with a loud, exaggerated yawn but he ignored her, focusing on the things that hadn’t been spoken. “So, you broke up with him because he was too nice? How did you even tell that to him?”

“No.” Her tone suddenly became heavy. “We broke up because he no longer had faith in me. It was not long after he read my journal.”

“What journal?”

“Okay, now, don’t laugh, but I’ve been keeping a journal lately to help me think and…” He couldn’t see her face, but he could tell she was flushed. “Well, figure things out. So I wrote a lot of things about you, about us, about how I truly felt about you but couldn’t be with you because of the things we’ve been through. And the fact that I’ve been dreaming about you—”

“What?” His breath hitched in his throat. “Like a soulmate dream or just your regular wet dream about me?”

It was vexing the way he sounded so serious when he asked her the most insensitive question at times like this. “It felt similar to how I dreamt about Mark which is weird because how can that be? What does that even mean? I can’t have two soulmates at once, can I?”

Donghyuck contemplated in silence, unsure of his thoughts but eventually made his decision. “Okay,” he shifted his weight, now sitting on the bed, and gesturing for her to meet his eyes. “I have a secret I’ve been wanting to tell you but since we weren’t on speaking terms—”

“Thanks to you—”

“—yeah, thanks to me. I decided to keep it a secret. And I realized that I didn’t want to tell you that because I wanted you to figure out by yourself that you have feelings for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been having dreams about you too.” He unconsciously reached out for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I saw your memories. I knew that they weren’t mine because I’ve dreamt about the time you spent with Jaemin and Mark, but I didn’t say anything because I want you to fall for me for who I am, not because I have connections to your dreams or because it turns out I’m your soulmate.”

She gaped in disbelief. “How long have you been dreaming about me?”

His voice grew quiet. “Since that night when we kissed.”

Her mouth was shaping into a silent ‘o’ but no words came out. She was deep in her thoughts and Donghyuck had to squeeze her hand to bring her out of her reverie. “Noona?”

“So it wasn’t just because of the kiss, was it? That morning when you were acting weird, asking me about my feelings?”

He nodded reluctantly. “I thought you were experiencing the same thing, but then you told me you had another dream about Mark, and not soon after, I saw him with my own eyes.”

Something befell on her face, eyes wide in realization. “So, it was true—what I saw in my dream. You’d met Mark way before I did but you never told me about him—you even told him to stay away—”

“Yes, but—” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I know that was a total dick move, but—”

“You had no right, Hyuck.”

The way she called him by his real name made him freeze for a split second. “You’re… really upset about this, aren’t you?”

She tried not to scowl at him harder than she already did. With a sigh, she massaged her temple. “Well, I guess I should’ve seen that coming. You’ve always been acting like that anyway. You and your possessive, competitive ass.”

“But,” he said, smiling bashfully. “Will you love me and my possessive, competitive ass for the rest of your life?”

“One step at a time, Haechannie.” She pressed her palm against his face, wiping his annoying smirk away. “One step at a time.”

***

Unbeknownst to them, it turned out that being in an intimate relationship didn’t really change the way they behave around each other. They still fought over the little things but always agreed on the things that mattered. They shared loving words as much as they had done numerous times in the past, only this time they shared them between lustful gasps and lascivious groans.

Their long-distance relationship was hard during their years in college as they went to different campuses in different cities, but only because they couldn’t feel each other’s lips and breaths on their skins, so every time a long holiday came up, they would spend it somewhere where they could be alone, tangled in each other’s arms, moaning terms of endearments laced with desperation and urgency against the sheets.

It was funny how they kept having dreams about each other’s memories, even after they admitted their feelings out loud. Every morning whenever they were apart, they would send text messages, describing the memories they saw in their dreams, that it became some kind of a new habit for them. It was harmless most of the time, but Donghyuck became unreasonably jealous more often than not, whenever he saw Jaemin or Mark in her memories. He would spout out hateful words, calling their names with degradation, and she would sigh and wave him off, being the mature one in the relationship.

She had a theory about why he was dreaming about her, and why did her dreams change from Mark’s memories into his. She said it had something to do with their feelings, that if they loved someone so dearly, their dreams began to change from seeing the soulmate they were originally matched with, to the person they truly loved. And if the feelings were mutual, they would begin to dream about each other. Donghyuck didn’t pay too much attention to it, because it didn’t matter to him. Soulmates or not, dreams or no dream, he’d still love her with all his heart.

They kept their relationship a secret because they knew how their parents believed in soulmates and didn’t want to make them worry. But whenever they had sleepovers in his house, leaving their bedroom door open as instructed, keeping secrets became torture because Donghyuck always found a way to pepper playful kisses on her cheek. And playful kisses always turned perilous when they fell on her lips, and once the tip of their tongues met in curiosity, just wanted to get a glimpse of each other’s taste, there would be no turning back.

So they exchanged deep kisses and sinful strokes under the duvet, closing their eyes shut and pretending to sleep whenever rustling sounds or footsteps could be heard from the other side of their slightly ajar door. Donghyuck would whine something about, “Noona, I can’t do this. I can’t come like this,” even though he grew hotter and larger in her hand, and she would raise a teasing eyebrow with a smirk painting her face. She would then sneak under the sheet, crawl down his body, and blow hot breath against his tip, before engulfing him completely. And Donghyuck would bite into his fist, eyebrows furrowing in ecstasy, eyes shut closed as he imagined the way she would hollow her cheeks around him, with her tongue running along his veins and he would come undone in seconds. “Already?” She would ask with a teasing grin, wiping her tainted mouth with the back of her hand. “I must be super good at this.”

Donghyuck would let her win, just for the night. He could always pay her back the next day, he figured, when his parents were still deep in slumber, and the sun was still hiding somewhere out of sight. He knew how much she loved seeing him between her legs, with his eyes half-lidded and his lips sucking bruises on the inner parts of her thighs. And he loved seeing her face contorted in pleasure every time he brought her tongue deep inside her, remembering her taste better than anything he had ever tasted. Whenever her body started to shake, hands tangling desperately against his locks, her legs closing in on him, he would lick everything that seeped out of her, glance up to meet her eyes, and lick his lower lip in satisfaction before he said, “Already? I must be super good at this.”

“You know,” she sighed one day when she curled against his chest in a hotel room that smelled like cinnamon mixed with sandalwood. “I’ll probably end up getting pregnant with Hyuck Jr from how often we have sex.”

“I don’t mind.” He laced their fingers together, tracing his tongue on the side of her neck before he marked her with his teeth. “Hyuck Jr sounds hella cool.”

“Of course, you don’t mind. You say that to get more sex.” She wiggled away, shoving him gently by the jaw. “Stop that, I have work today.” And as much as he wanted to ignore her, painting more of his signature down her body so everyone would know who owned her, he stopped with a pout because she could really be terrifying when she got angry.

“Noona~ Come back to bed,” he whined, as he watched her stepped down the bed, getting dressed. “I need you to love me again. I’m needy.”

“You are gross, and I am late. Where the hell is my bra?”

Donghyuck grinned in amusement, watching her running from one corner to another only in her panties. “Man, have I told you how much I love your boobs?”

“Stop staring and help me find my clothes!”

She soon collected every piece of her clothing back without his help as he just kept lazing around on the bed, giggling every time she tripped over something.

“Noona.”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever thought about being this intimate with me back then?” Donghyuck flipped over to his stomach, crossing his arms idly on top of his pillow before he dipped his chin between them. “Before we got together. Have you ever thought about kissing me?”

Her cheeks were flushed. “W-what kind of question is—”

“I need to know whether you were as crazy as I was about you.” His smile was both teasing and gentle. “Please?”

“Fine.” She eventually succumbed with a sigh. “Remember back then when you said you were going on a date with that girl you’d been seeing for two weeks? Not sure why, but when I thought about you kissing her, I was also thinking about you kissing me.”

“You did?” He gaped, mouth wide open. “Way back then? And you still went out with those douchebags instead of being with me?” He protested, sinking his face in his pillow as he muffled his whine. “Noonaaaa~”

“It was just a fleeting thought! It wasn’t anything that serious.” She put on her stockings, having the hardest time focusing from all the embarrassment she had to endure. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, now that I know you’ve been thinking about me that way for quite some time, what kind of things did you imagine us doing?” And when he didn’t answer right away, lost for words, she added with a sly smirk. “Don’t tell me you jacked off while thinking about me.”

He was good at controlling his expressions, but his ears betrayed him right away from how red they were turning. “No comment,” he muttered, sinking half of his face into his pillow.

She rolled her eyes, snorting. “Well, that’s fair.”

“What about the future? Have you ever thought about our future together?” The sudden question made her gaze back at him. “What do you see happening to us in ten years?”

She was fiddling with the buttons of her blouse, but her mind drifted somewhere else. She had thought about it. Thought about growing old with him. Thought about them getting married, have a child—or maybe three. Thought about how nervous and panicky he would get when her water broke, and how whiny he would be whenever she asked him to do house chores but ended up doing everything perfectly. She had thought about how cute he’d look as a father, telling a little boy—who looked exactly like him—during his first try at riding a bicycle that it’s okay to cry if it hurts when you fall because daddy is going to hug you and make the pain go away, okay?

She had thought about it, more often than not, but he had just graduated from college and she was in her first year working as an intern in a high-tech company. They still had a lot of things going on in their lives. Maybe he wasn’t ready to settle down yet. Maybe he needed time.

“Babe?” He called. “You’ve been quiet for a while.”

“You want an honest answer?”

“Yes, please.”

“I see you growing bald from all of those hair products you use.”

“Why you little—”

***

“What’s this?” She questioned as he slid a little black box with a red bow wrapped around it—a spitting image of the gift she had presented to him a few years back—into her hand. She remembered the joke he made that night, so she mirrored his action, faking a gasp while squealing, “No way, you’re proposing to me? But honey, I’m already carrying your child!”

He laughed, a bit bashful and awkward, but he understood her joke. “But wait, if you’re seriously carrying my child, I will hate you for the rest of my life for breaking the news like this.”

“I’m not, calm down.” She chuckled, and they walked next to each other again, enjoying how peaceful the Han River was at night, with cherry blossoms petals dancing in the wind.

“Are you cold?” He asked though she was already wearing multi-layered clothes.

“What, are you gonna wrap your coat around me?”

“Nah, just asking. I’m more sensitive to cold than you anyway.”

“Thanks.” She rolled her eyes before she focused back on the tiny present. “What is this for? Our anniversary is still a month away.”

“Just shut up and open it.” He sniffed from the cold, tucking his hands deeper inside his coat. “And hurry up. I’m freezing. I need you to warm me up.”

“I swear to God, can’t you at least be romantic for five minutes?”

“Okay, five minutes. After that, we’ll run back home and have hot, dirty sex.”

She scowled at him which he returned wholeheartedly with a playful kiss on her cheek. She opened the box and smiled when she saw a similar oval locket necklace that matched the one he wore around his neck. “You’re so predictable,” she sneered, taking the necklace in her hand. “But I love it.”

“You haven’t seen what’s inside.” He whispered close in her ear. “I’ll give you a little spoiler. It’s not a picture of us taking a bath together when we were kids but it’s something similar.”

“Ah, I get it. Is it the time when we—” But her sentence ended abruptly in silence at the sight of the words that were engraved on the silver plate.

Will you marry me?

“Haechannie—” And as she turned around to face him, he already had one knee on the ground, taking her hand in his and she could feel shivers running through his fingertips. The soft glow of the streetlight illuminated his face most beautifully, with his bangs fluttering softly under the wind. His chocolate brown eyes were so gentle, so loving, so shy, matching the way his cheeks were reddening with more seconds passing by. When he pronounced her name, it felt like he was casting spells on her, bewitching her with his smile, his voice, his scent, his everything.

“Okay, so I’ve written a whole speech—like, a whole speech,” he repeated, emphasizing with a deeper voice. “And it would probably take me a good half an hour to recite it to you and I don’t think either of us wants to stand here for even a minute longer, so if you can just say yes now, I’ll do the speech later when we’re warm and cozy and naked in our bed.”

She was prepared to cry in joy but she ended up crying from the hilarity of it all. “What the hell was that? Haechannie—”

“I’m serious, Noona, a whole speech!” His teeth were beginning to chatter. “Trust me! Can you just accept my stupid proposal now so we can go home?”

“What is this, a blackmail?”

“Noona~”

She hauled him up to his feet again with both hands. “Well then, let’s go home,” she said, sinking their intertwined hands in her coat’s pocket before she tugged him forward. “If you amaze me with that whole speech of yours, then I’ll say yes.”

Donghyuck grinned. “You got it.”

He kept his promise from the beginning to the end. As they stepped into the little apartment they had been sharing in secret for the last few months, Donghyuck had her pressed against the wall, kicking the front door closed with one foot, before he moved it to slide his knee between her thighs, giving her the friction she needed. Clothes were soon scattered on the floor as they walked and tripped their way to the bedroom, silently shouting gratitudes to the heater that kept the place warm while they were gone.

“So,” she breathed against his mouth, pressing her bare chest to his slightly colder one. “Your speech. Go.”

“In a minute,” he said, smirking as he gestured her to sit on the edge of the bed. When she followed, he kneeled in front of her, spread her legs apart, and licked his lower lip as he stared at her arousal. He pushed his bangs out of his eyes, saying, “I have my priorities and this. comes. first,” and he dipped his head low, hot tongue pressing against her most sensitive part, forcing her to chant his name like a prayer.

But when their feet were tangled around one another on the bed, her hands buried deep in his hair while he raked his fingernails down her spine, Donghyuck murmured the things she didn’t realize she needed to hear. He reminded her of the precious memories they had shared, of the feelings they had even back then when they were too young to understand love, of his promises to make her happy—to make her feel complete and infinite until the end of her days—and of his cute, little fantasies of how the future was going to be for the two of them and their future children.

And as he pounded into her, with hard, deep thrusts, hips moving faster and faster each time she moaned against his ear, driving him to the edge of his sanity, he demanded her to say her answer to his proposal. With pleasure clouding her mind, she could no longer think about any word other than yes.

***

“It has a private pool and a jacuzzi, you’ll love it, babe, trust me,” Donghyuck said into his phone, grinning to himself every time he heard a giggle coming from the other line. “I know I said no surprises this time, but I made the reservation like a month ago so you can’t really blame me for it.”

He silently thanked the florist who handed him a bouquet of red roses before he exited the store and head back to his car. He placed the flowers on the passenger seat next to him, along with two little custom-made alpaca plushies wearing wedding attires, and a tiny white box with a pair of engagement rings inside.

“Look, we’re celebrating your birthday in that resort whether you like it or not,” he said, looking like he was about to burst into laughter in a matter of seconds from hearing her adorable complaints. “It’s not that expensive, I swear! And even if it is, I’m completely fine with using my three months' worth of salary to please my girlfriend.” There was a loud shouting on the other side of the line, and he chuckled, “I’m kidding, Noona. Look, I’m heading to your workplace. I’ll see you in half an hour, okay?” His gaze softened. “Me too. I love you too. Bye.”

When the line got disconnected, Donghyuck leaned against the back of his seat, huffing to the air, his heart banging loud against his chest. The first proposal was all fun and games, but this time, he was serious about it. He had prepared everything, dressed sharply in a black suit and a white buttoned-up shirt, and memorized his lines by heart from practicing it over a hundred times in front of his bathroom mirror a few hours ago. He had taken a day off to make sure everything went perfectly, but now as he seated behind the wheels, about to see her face and the bright, beautiful smile she always threw at him whenever he graced her with his presence, he became so nervous, so afraid of ruining his plan.

A text message arrived, interrupting his thoughts.

There’s a birthday gift on my desk under your name. My co-workers are getting jealous. Why are you so perfect?

And before he could reply, another one came by.

I love you, Haechannie.

All of his concerns began to dissipate from his chest. It would be okay if he ruined one thing or two while undergoing his plan. She would forgive him with a smile. She always did. She had always accepted him the way he was.

So he texted her back.

There’s no life without you, Noona.

And that was the truth. He had only truly lived because of her.

He placed his phone on the dashboard of his car, wore back his seatbelt, and started the engine. His thoughts were so full of her as much as his heart was, that a smile began to grow permanent on his face. Even as he began to drive, he still had the hardest time focusing on everything else but her.

It was until a truck passed at high speed, smashed his car from the side with a loud, thunderous bang, sending tremors of pain all over his body before his thoughts could process the details.

And suddenly, what was once vibrant with a spectrum of colors, his world turned monochromatic once again.

***

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franniebanana · 3 years ago

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CQL Rewatch - Ep 20

Iconic. Seeing Wei Wuxian back and better than ever is so satisfying! That flute playing that probably we’ve all forgotten about since the first two episodes becomes a repeating leitmotif throughout the series. It’s just as iconic as Wei Wuxian himself. And what I love about this shot here is how the light hits his eyes, and from this specific camera angle, it looks like a mask on his face! I just thought that was super cool. Whether it was intentional or not, I have no idea, but I like to think it was. I guess it’s like a reverse mask in this case—everything is hidden except his eyes.

It’s amazing how I only went without Wei Wuxian for like half an episode, yet it felt like so much longer. The emotional weight that he carries is so great that from all the characters searching for him, it feels like it’s actually been three months, instead of more like twenty-five minutes. And I think that’s something that we can feel in CQL but we can’t really feel in the book. Since the book is written in third person limited, we only see Wei Wuxian’s side of the story (I think that’s accurate, but it’s been a few months since I read it). That being the case, we never leave Wei Wuxian’s side, we never get to miss him being there. Of course the story is framed totally differently in the book and not in chronological order, even—lots of flip-flopping, which is fun but also a little confusing when you’re trying to keep track of a timeline.

I think part of what makes Wang Lingjao so creepy here is that her garish makeup is totally gone: her face is pale and ghoulish, with just the bright red blood trickling out of her nose, mouth, and cut on her cheek. I think they could have made her even more ghostly, but I like what they did for her apparition. It’s fun to see how fast Wen Chao cracks, though. He’s very much all bark and no bite—honestly, such a coward. On the one hand, it’s satisfying to watch him lose it, but on the other, it’s quite disturbing. I toe the line between enjoying it and being disgusted by it, but I love that CQL at least kept in this part of Wei Wuxian’s character. It’s like revenge, no matter how bloody, is okay in Chinese tv, but not the main character being kind of bad. I don’t get why they had to nerf his character to the point of absolving him of all guilt with everything that happened. I like a character who makes bad choices, but feels guilty for it, because that shows depth. Someone who bad things happen to because of the “real villain” aren’t as interesting to me. I think also that Xiao Zhan would have been amazing as the real Wei Wuxian from the book, had they adapted him that way. I also would have really, really loved to see the scene that is only really described to us (I think by Lan Xichen) where a distraught and delusional Wei Wuxian rejects Lan Wangji. Ugh, that would have been so heart-wrenching! Maybe in the donghua…sigh….

So this is important, I think. There was a point in the last episode where Jin Zixuan tells his cousin not to let the crows peck at the dead bodies of their enemies. In other words, don’t desecrate the bodies, even if they are the enemy. Of course, Jin Zixuan didn’t hold any personal grudges towards any of them, at least that we know of. Jiang Cheng certainly does. So even though Wang Lingjao is already dead by her own hand, he whips her with Zidian. Jiang Cheng is becoming more and more twisted by his anger and grief, which he never deals with in a healthy way. He wants revenge against those that have wronged him and his parents, and he really never stops seeking revenge throughout the story. First it’s against the Wens, and then it’s against Wei Wuxian. It’s a fairly slow descent, I think, over years, but I quite like watching him twist like this. While it’s fun and interesting watching someone repent and have a redemption arc, it’s also interesting watching them go the other way.

Lan Wangji seems to know, or at least suspect, that the person who has killed everyone in the Supervisory Office, including Wang Lingjao, is Wei Wuxian. A talent for using talismans (one of which Lan Wangji used himself to escape the Wens), someone who is seeking revenge against the Wen Clan—these things point to Wei Wuxian in his mind. He doesn’t want to say this to Jiang Cheng, he doesn’t even want to admit it himself, but he’s putting the pieces together. I think this is a frightening thought for him. On the one hand, he would be happy to find Wei Wuxian alive, but on the other, what state would they find him in? And what does it mean that he’s killed all these people singlehandedly? This isn’t the Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji knows and cares so deeply about. This isn’t the man that Lan Wangji was ready to die for. I think his heart is very much filled with dread in this scene.

Jiang Cheng’s line is interesting too—basically, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Solid, really, but it does come with some problems in reality. The enemy of your enemy just might stab you in the back later. It’s a very simplistic view, but I think at this point, Jiang Cheng is just happy to see the Wens dead. There are a few he wants to kill himself, but he seems satisfied if they just die out, regardless of who does it.

I like seeing Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng team up for these few episodes, because it’s fun seeing how they each approach the situations. Jiang Cheng relies heavily on his heart and emotions, which I can totally identify with. He wants to find Wei Wuxian and he wants revenge on Wen Zhuliu and Wen Chao—those are his two priorities. And then Lan Wangji is definitely more of a logical person—he wants to get to the bottom of these deaths and find out who is the person with so much wicked energy that is doing all of it—and also, that person is probably Wei Wuxian, who he is very interested in finding. Here Jiang Cheng wants to rush after Wen Zhuiliu, just as he did when he went back to Lotus Pier. He’s very rash, while Lan Wangji is much more calm and collected. I mean, if it were me, I’d want to see if they would give up any information before I killed them.

And the reveal is…Wen Chao is fucking disgusting! I didn’t even want to screencap one of the close-ups, because I felt like I’d have to do a trigger warning for blood lol. Not really, though, because I never do, sorry. I love the looks on Jiang Cheng’s and Lan Wangji’s faces, though. Jiang Cheng is so horrified and Lan Wangji is just mildly shocked. I think the real thing is like, who are we dealing with here? Who is this monster who’s been murdering everyone in all these different ways? Who has made Wen Chao look like this? Is this friend or foe? Like I said, Jiang Cheng keeps saying that as long as the person is killing the Wens, he’s fine with it, but I think even he is bothered by this level of mutilation, even against someone he loathes.

It’s hilarious to me that Wen Zhuliu uses this tactic with Wen Chao. Oh, you’re going to insult me? I’m useless? Okay, bye! LOL. Also very amusing that this is really the last conversation they have with each other: this bickering that they’ve probably done over and over off screen. Wen Zhuliu stays by Wen Chao’s side, though, because he’s indebted to Wen Ruohan, of course. It would have been a neat twist to see Wen Zhuliu defect. And you still could have had a dramatic scene where Jiang Cheng chases him down.

I love it! I love it I love it I love it! The flute! This part is so well done (it’s still a little campy, of course, but that’s part of the charm)! I mean, as the audience, we all know who it is by now, but I love that they keep up the mystery because Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng still don’t know. They didn’t see him walk in. I just love this.

And shock. Jiang Cheng looks significantly more surprised. It had never crossed his mind that the person doing all this was actually Wei Wuxian, the very individual that he’s been searching for. Lan Wangji, on the other hand, doesn’t really look surprised. He looks a little surprised, okay—I’ll give you that. But I think most of what he’s feeling right now is the deep dread of being right. He wanted to be wrong, even when everything pointed to Wei Wuxian. I don’t think he wanted to believe that Wei Wuxian was capable of this, no matter how much he wanted to get revenge for what happened at Lotus Pier. I think there’s disappointment there too—how could he do such a thing? And I’ve giffed this scene with this quote: “He started to estrange her…And they became strangers who knew each other’s heart, so broken as they drifted apart” (Ana Claudia Antunes, Pierrot & Columbine). I think the realization here and a bit later for Lan Wangji that Wei Wuxian has become some other person is quite heartbreaking. He’s like a stranger to him, and that feeling of betrayal when you thought you knew a person inside and out—that hurts. It’s a deep-seated betrayal that Lan Wangji feels throughout this scene.

Oh, what I also like about this part is that when Wei Wuxian appears, neither one of them can look away. They are solely focused on him at this point.

He finally gets his revenge on Wen Zhuliu. And it’s great. They jump through the roof and he strings him up with Zidian. I can’t really say anything about it—Jiang Cheng needed to do this or he never would have been able to move on from Lotus Pier and his parents’ death.

WWX: Have I changed?

JC: No, not exactly.

I love that these lines are exchanged while the camera is on Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji already sees how Wei Wuxian has changed: the flute, the wicked energy, the almost senseless killing—none of these things are like the Wei Wuxian he’s come to love. And yes, I think love—and it hurts more because there is love. Lan Wangji wanted to walk the straight path with Wei Wuxian together, and he feels betrayed by what Wei Wuxian has done. Despite that, he still wants to help him. He implores Wei Wuxian to come back to Gusu with him so that they can help him and bring him back to the right path.

This whole scene feels like Lan Wangji isn’t even in the room, it’s like a private conversation between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji just happens to overhear. He says nothing. He lets Jiang Cheng ask a hundred questions while Wei Wuxian calmly answers them. Wei Wuxian smiles and laughs, he seems himself, and yet he isn’t. There’s something wrong and Lan Wangji grows more and more perturbed by it as the seconds pass by.

The tension in this scene is palpable. It’s painful, it’s sad, it’s really hard for me to watch. And yet, this is one of my favorite scenes. Lan Wangji is feeling a lot, and he’s held it all in until this moment here. He calls him Wei Ying, and then Wei Wuxian in turn addresses him first as Second Master Lan, and then as Hanguang-Jun, both very formal names. It’s not Lan Zhan anymore—there is no familiarity on Wei Wuxian’s part. I think part of that is his attempt to protect Lan Wangji from any association with him that might actually harm Lan Wangji and his reputation. He’s setting a boundary—a wall—between them. And then when Lan Wangji bites back, Wei Wuxian changes tack: he stars being informal with him again, he brings up how they were good friends, classmates, etc. But that’s not going to work because Lan Wangji is feeling pretty upset right now.

Lan Wangji is desperate, scared, and worried for Wei Wuxian. Sometimes when we’re feeling all that, it can come across as anger, and that becomes worse when someone is dismissive of those feelings. Wei Wuxian is definitely dismissive here. In their interactions, Lan Wangji rarely shows this much emotion, and instead of paying attention to that, Wei Wuxian brushes it off. Jiang Cheng shows that he cares by hugging Wei Wuxian, but Lan Wangji is different—he’s thinking ahead, he’s seeing what Wei Wuxian has started to mess with—demonic cultivation—which can destroy a person’s mind, and he’s terrified. His only thought is to take Wei Wuxian away and try to change him for the better. Of course, just like what his father did to his mother, this cannot work. Even if Lan Wangji manages to force Wei Wuxian to come with him, he won’t be able to control him. All Lan Wangji can really do is try to persuade him.

The intensity of Lan Wangji’s gaze here is something else. This is a man who is desperate to save the person he loves. He is really looking out for Wei Wuxian’s best interests here and is getting no support from Jiang Cheng. I don’t really know what’s going on in Jiang Cheng’s head right now, but he’s definitely finding Lan Wangji’s behavior offensive. He doesn’t understand that Wei Wuxian’s actions will lead to his ultimate destruction, while it is very clear to Lan Wangji. But all I can do here is bring up how they viewed the person who was killing all the Wens earlier, before they even knew who it was. Lan Wangji felt very unnerved by it: he was disturbed by the talismans and disturbed by the various manners of death, while Jiang Cheng’s stance always was that it didn’t matter because the person was clearly on the same side—a dead Wen is a dead Wen no matter who is behind it. And his opinion doesn’t change even after he finds out. It’s not important to him how Wei Wuxian was able to kill all those people. He asks the questions, but he isn’t interested in really hearing the answer. On the contrary, I think Lan Wangji is very interested in those answers, but he wants to hear about it in a controlled environment. He doesn’t want Wei Wuxian to go back to Yunmeng, where he will essentially live with free-rein without boundaries.

As for cinematography, I love how Wei Wuxian holds up his flute here, setting up a literal boundary between him and Lan Wangji. Not only do you have Jiang Cheng creating that wall with his sword, you also have Wei Wuxian. What I mean is, it’s not only Jiang Cheng who wants to keep Lan Wangji out. Wei Wuxian is drawing a line here too: he wants Lan Wangji to stay out of his business. And this morphs into, what happens at this place is not Gusu Lans’ business—it only concerns Yunmeng Jiang Sect.

We all know Wei Wuxian is an arrogant person, but his arrogance and ignorance here is truly stunning. Lan Wangji tells him point-blank that he won’t be able to control this energy if he uses demonic cultivation, and Wei Wuxian does everything but laugh at him. I enjoy this and I hate it at the same time, because Lan Wangji is just fucking worried, you know? And maybe he doesn’t express himself well, but he’s shocked to see Wei Wuxian here, shocked that he’s responsible for all this—he can’t stay calm and collected under these conditions.

In just a few minutes, Wei Wuxian says that he and Lan Wangji are good friends and that Lan Wangji should treat him better, as well as “Who do you think you are? What I do is none of your business.” I’m paraphrasing, but that’s the gist. This scene here, with their faces so close to each other, kills me. This is absolute betrayal for Lan Wangji. It’s as if everything they had built together—all the respect, the affection, the comradery—is gone. The Wei Wuxian that he knew is gone.

I love the way this shot is framed, with Wei Wuxian staring after Lan Wangji, and then Wen Chao pleading, “Forgive me, forgive me.” So apt, because I think Wei Wuxian does feel bad here, I think he feels guilty. I think part of him really missed Lan Wangji and wanted to see him. I think he even knows that what Lan Wangji is doing is out of concern for him over anything else. But I also think Wei Wuxian’s pride gets in the way of that, and his desire for revenge, and even his desire for things to go back to normal. More than anything, Wei Wuxian wants to return to Yunmeng, to his shijie, to be able to live normally again, whatever that really means, because of course everything has changed. Nothing will ever be as it was again. More importantly, he has changed, and can never go back to the person he was before, the person who played so hard, the person who shirked his responsibilities and fooled around in classes, the person who shamelessly teased and flirted with Lan Wangji. That Wei Wuxian is gone. I think Wei Wuxian knows he’s hurt Lan Wangji and does feel bad about it, but he knows he has to push him away to protect him. He doesn’t want to drag Lan Wangji down with him, he feels it’s better this way. And I think, even though CQL!Wei Wuxian does have feelings for Lan Wangji quite a bit earlier than in the book, you can see the one-sided love here, in Lan Wangji’s aggressive behavior as he attempts to save this person he loves. Lan Wangji isn’t willing to give up on him, whereas Wei Wuxian is more prepared to let him go—to push him away to protect him. That’s love too, I suppose, but it’s a love that is meant to be from afar—a sad love, not a passionate one, not a desperate one, not the one that Lan Wangji feels for him.

This is so heartbreaking for Lan Wangji, in part, because they had such a special relationship before. Prior to this, Wei Wuxian prided himself in that he and Lan Wangji went on night hunts together—the clan didn’t matter, whether that was unorthodox or not. And now to see him use his clan as a barrier between them…it’s quite a betrayal. Lan Wangji feels so hurt, so at a loss—he wonders what could he have done differently to prevent this, he blames himself.

This is one of my favorite episodes because of this reunion scene. What you expect is some great reunion, the hugging between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, maybe a smile from Lan Wangji because he’s really happy to see him. But instead, you get pain. You get a Jiang Cheng hugging Wei Wuxian, but Wei Wuxian not even returning the hug (he only raises his arm to signal that he wants to break apart). You get a heated confrontation between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, one that is “fondly” thought of as their break-up scene. I love the drama, I love the pain, I love the angst, I love the dichotomy between Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan, I love that this is the start of more tension between Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji, I love everything about it. The “us and them” dynamic that starts here is so great, and then to see it slowly unravel throughout the next ten episodes, to see Wei Wuxian’s and Jiang Cheng’s relationship fall apart, while Wei Wuxian’s and Lan Wangji’s relationship begins to strengthen again--I eat it up. It’s like my candy. Anyway, I’m excited for what’s to come, excited to talk more wangxian and how it compares to the book (from my dwindling knowledge, that is)! Happy that you all are coming along this ride with me!

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 |

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wwx #lwj #wang lingjiao #wen chao #wen zhuliu #cql rewatch #ep 20

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pikapeppa · 5 years ago

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Zevran/f!Mahariel: Jellied Ham

I have no business writing for this ship yet. I HAVE BARELY PLAYED THE GAME. But I wanted to write some Alistair and Inala Mahariel being gossipy bitches, and Zev has me feeling PROTECC feels already, so here we go. (IF I HAVE READ ANYONE’S CHARACTER ALL WRONG, FORGIVE ME. I WILL RETCON AS NEEDED.)

Read on AO3 instead; ~1800 words.

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

Inala pushed open the flap of Alistair’s tent. “Ali, can I–”

“Hey!” Alistair complained. “What if I was naked in here? Or practicing an Antivan jig for the next time we’re bored on the road? You’d have ruined the surprise.”

Inala unrepentantly crawled into his tent. “Practicing an Antivan jig while sitting on your ass? That’s a special skill.”

Alistair nodded sagely. “It really is, and I’m really good at it. Want to see?” He started wiggling his shoulders and snapping his fingers.

Inala snorted. “Amazing. Fascinating. Really, I’m honoured to have witnessed it. Can I ask you something?”

He stopped his so-called dancing and sighed. “Since you burst into my tent like this and interrupted my dance routine, I guess you might as well.”

She settled herself cross-legged on his bedroll. “Have you ever, uh…” She trailed off awkwardly. She’d only ever talked about this with the other girls in her clan, and with Ashalle when she’d hit puberty. It was weird talking about it with a man, even if the man was just Alistair.

He raised his eyebrows. “Have I ever what? Had a good pair of shoes?”

She tutted. “No. You know.” She gave him a pointed look.

Alistair smiled. “I don’t, actually! Have I ever seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Have I ever licked a lamppost in winter?” He wiggled his eyebrows salaciously.

Inala rolled her eyes. He knew exactly what she was talking about. “Look, I don’t know what jellied ham is, but it sounds disgusting. I’m talking about, you know.” She waved her hand vaguely. “Sex.”

“Oh, is that what we’re talking about?” he exclaimed. “I could have sworn this conversation was about the jellied ham.”

Inala whined and poked his arm. “Come on, just tell me. Have you ever, uh, done it before?”

“All right, all right, twist my arm,” he drawled. “I haven’t ever eaten jellied ham, no. Why, have you?”

Inala gasped mockingly. “What a question to ask a proper lady.”

Alistair snorted. “That’s a no, then. Besides, you’re not a proper lady. You’re a Dalish wildwoman.”

“And you’re a smelly human brute,” she retorted.

He sighed happily. “Isn’t it so nice to recognize each other for who we really are?”

Inala snickered, then sighed and picked idly at the fabric of his bedroll. Alistair tilted his head. “Why are you asking about this? You’re not, uh, offering, are you?”

She scoffed and elbowed him. “No, you dummy. Not to you, at least.”

His eyes went wide. “So you’re going to offer to someone! Who? Let me guess, let me guess: Sten. It’s Sten, isn’t it?”

Inala looked up with a grin. “How much would you dare me to offer my virginity to Sten?”

“I would dare you…” He eagerly dug around in his pouch of coin, but his smile faded into disappointment. He gave her a hangdog look. “How about three coppers and the first viewing of my Antivan jig routine once it’s complete?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not good enough.”

He clicked his tongue. “Shame. Seriously though, are you thinking about, uh, eating jellied ham with someone?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.” She scratched idly at his bedroll for a moment more, then smiled at him. “You know who’s eaten a lot of jellied ham? Zevran.”

Alistair scoffed. “That’s hardly a secret. Jellied ham during assassinations, jellied ham when he had the flu, two types of jellied ham at once…” His eyes widened. “Wait. You’re… you’re thinking of sleeping with Zevran?”

She shrugged and looked down at her fingers, which were still scratching at the bedroll. “I don’t know. Maybe.” In truth, Inala wasn’t sure she did want to sleep with Zevran. That wasn’t to say she wasn’t interested in him; she found him fascinating, actually. He was the first non-Dalish elf she’d ever spent a significant amount of time with. Every time she talked to him, she got this strange sense of vertigo about just how different their lives had been. Marethari had always told her that the city elves had very different lives from the Dalish, but she’d never really appreciated just how different their lives were until she’d met Zevran.

She’d also never really been attracted to anyone before she’d met Zevran. It was hard to feel attracted to anyone in her clan when she saw them all as her family.

Or she used to, at least, before they’d forced her to become a Grey Warden.

She pushed aside the bitterness and turned her thoughts back to Zevran. But thinking of Zevran was difficult as well, in a very different way. She liked Zevran; she thought he was handsome and charming and funny, and the way he flirted with her… Creators, no one had ever flirted with her like that before. No one had ever looked at her the way Zevran did, like she was more than just one of the boys. Like she was something… desirable.

But the way he talked about… about sex, and about being raised in a whorehouse? She didn’t have the whole story, but the hints he’d given her were enough to chill her blood. He told amusing stories about the people he’d slept with, but if those stories had happened during jobs he’d done for the Antivan Crows, had he actually enjoyed the sex? How could he be enjoying it when it had been drilled into him as something he had to be good at rather than something to enjoy?

But then again, who was Inala to question Zevran’s sexual motives when the only experience she had was an awkward experimental kiss here and there?

She nibbled the inside of her cheek and shot Alistair a sideways glance. “Do you think Zevran would care that I’ve never eaten jellied ham before?” she asked.

“Are you sure you want to offer him your jellied ham?” Alistair said.

His tone was uncharacteristically serious. Inala softened at the concern in his face. “You still think he might try to assassinate us? After everything he said about those awful Crows?”

“We can’t say for sure that he won’t,” Alistair said. “I mean, I don’t think he’ll succeed, not with Sten and Shale watching, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try. And what if he tries while you’re, you know. Halfway through the jellied ham?”

Inala gave him a cheeky smile. “Well, that’s the real reason I came to you. Will you stand guard outside my tent while I eat jellied ham with Zevran?”

“Maker, no,” Alistair said loudly. “Get the mabari to do that.”

“I wouldn’t make Keebs do that!” she protested.

Alistair raised his eyebrows. “So you wouldn’t force Keebs to listen to you eating jellied ham, but you’d ask me to do it? Are you saying you value the mabari over me?”

Inala hesitated, and Alistair grunted and clutched his chest. “Ouch. You wound me. No really, I’m hurt. I’m… I’m devastated, actually. I might just take a vow of silence right now in protest.”

Inala widened her eyes. “Creators, really? Do you promise? I could use the peace and quiet.”

Alistair laughed, and Inala couldn’t help but join in. When they’d both caught their breath, Alistair elbowed her gently. “I don’t think Zevran will care that you’ve never eaten jellied ham before, for what it’s worth.”

She gave him a little half-smile, and they were quiet for a moment. Then Inala tilted her head. “Do you think Morrigan is a virgin?”

Alistair wrinkled his nose. “I think Morrigan is a praying mantis. She probably pops the heads off of her partners after sex and eats them.”

Inala barked out a laugh. “You’re so stupid.”

“It takes one to know one, my friend,” he retorted.

She tsked and punched him in the arm, and he flicked her ear. She punched him once more, then unfolded her legs and crawled over to the flap of his tent. “Goodnight, Alistair,” she drawled.

“Goodnight, Inala,” he said just as mockingly.

She shot him a swift grin, then left his tent. Everyone else seemed to be in their tents already – everyone except Zevran, in fact.

He was sitting by the fire and humming to himself as he sharpened one of his knives. He glanced up as she emerged from Alistair’s tent, and her heart did a little flip-flop as he met her gaze. Zevran had this way of smiling at her, like the curl of his lips and the heat in his eyes was only meant for her, and it just made her feel more confused.

Confused about whether she wanted to offer her jellied ham to him, or whether she really just wanted to hug him and keep him away from anyone who would value him only for his ill-begotten ‘skills’.

Her heart twisted again, but in a painful way this time, and she dropped his heated gaze. “Goodnight, Zevran,” she said. “Sweet dreams.”

“Pray that I dream of you, then,” he said. He tilted his head and sighed. “Ah, what a sweet dream that would be.”

A stupid grin burst across her face, and she rubbed her nose. Fenedhis, she could feel her face going hot. “I’ll… I’ll do that,” she said lamely, then immediately wanted to smack herself for the inane response.

He chuckled, and the smooth and rolling sound chased her toward her tent. Once she was in the safety of her tent, she breathed a sigh of relief, then pulled off her boots and slid into her bedroll.

She closed her eyes, but thoughts of Zevran played through her mind. His devilish little smile and that devilish quirk of his eyebrows. The lovely rolling cadence of his accent and the lovely veins in his elegant hands. What he must have looked like as a bony underfed seven-year-old slave.

Her gut twisted at the thought. She sighed and closed her eyes, then segued into the before-bed meditation that Ashalle had taught her when she was a moody and restless adolescent. A few minutes later, just as she was falling asleep, she had one last thought of Zevran.

It was a memory from when they’d first met, when he was tied up on the ground after failing to kill her and Alistair. He’d been charming even then, gazing boldly up at her with that warm and mischievous grin, and there was blood dripping down his chin thanks to a punch he’d taken from Sten.

As Inala finally fell asleep, that’s what she was thinking about: Zevran’s broad and bloodstained smile.

#zevran #zevran arainai #zevran/warden #zevran x warden #zevran x mahariel #zevran/mahariel #WHAT TAGS DO PEOPLE USE FOR THIS SHIP #THERE ARE SO MANY POSSIBLE ORIGINS UGH #alistair theirin #pikapeppa writes

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emilyxvalentyne · 5 years ago

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Alcoholic Love CH

A/n: So this is my first ever series so please bare with me. I may not be the best but I’m trying so please leave some positive feed back. Don’t let this flop please.

Disclaimer: This is just some good old classic fiction. I am not involved or do I know anything about the character used in this.

Warnings: not really any in this one but for the (series) there is going to be some of the following: alcohol abuse, drug abuse, cursing, depression, anxiety.

Summary: CalumXgirlfriend theres a rough patch in the relationship Calum has become distant, she slowly turns to drugs and alcohol to numb her pain.

A/n: please don’t let this flop!! Give me some tips on how to better it or if you have any ideas for me.

…………

I woke up to the bed empty this morning, I heard some noise going on downstairs so I assume Calum is still here. I got out of bed and put some socks on trying to avoid the cold floor. I made my way down stairs and into the kitchen. I saw Calum making some coffee. I slowly made my way behind him wrapping my arms around his torso resting my head against his back, he tensed up against my touch but didn't respond to it. I sighed and moved away from him walking over to the fridge, grabbing the butter, jam and orange juice. I set them on the counter next to Calum, who was sitting on a stool drinking his coffee and texting someone on his phone. I turned away from him and stuck some bread in the toaster. Calum seemed to be entertained with his phone to pay me any mind. I leaned my side in to the counter keeping me up on my propped elbow. I stared at Calum trying to read his face. Lately it's just been nothing but him working or going out, this is probably the longest we have been in a room together in about three weeks. He was dressed up as if he was about to head out. I would be lying if I said I wasn't sad that he was going out. I've tried talking to him about it but all he says is that he doesn't have time to talk about it or that he was to tired. I felt sad whenever I was alone here in our home, of course I went to work and did some college classes but whenever I got home to an empty house (besides duke) it always depressed me. I was pulled out of my thought when my toast finally popped up. I took out a butter knife and smeared the butter and strawberry jam on the golden squares. I poured some juice into a glass and put everything away. I pulled out the stool next to Calum and sat down. I felt Calum's stare burn into the side of my face as I sat there eating my toast.

'Do you want some of my toast?' I slide my plate over to Calum finally making eye contact with him. His eyes were dark and unreadable, but I could sense he was annoyed. Calum rolled his eyes and got up placing his mug into the sink. I felt as if he was almost annoyed with my very existence.

'No im heading out' I heard Calum mumble as he stared walking towards the living room. I followed I never ask Calum where he went anymore so I could avoid him getting mad but now I was kind skeptical on where exactly he was going. Calum was crouched down petting dukes head.

'Heading out where?' I asked more to myself rather then to him. I could practically see him rolling his eyes. He stood up and glared over at me.

'I'm just going out, God do you need to know where I am like your my mom' Calum was now heading up to our room I was right behind him following him into the closet where he continued to look for shoes.

'I never ask you where you even go anymore because you get mad all the time' I stood there in front of him as he sat on the bed tying his shoes.

'Well then why do you ask its just a waste of my time and yours' Calum was now putting on some cologne. He looked extremely agitated with me but at this point I could care less.

'Because I was wondering what time you would be home so we could hang out you know it's been a while since we-' I was cut off by Calum chuckling he stared at me as if I was stupid.

'Look I really don't have time for all of this right now I have to get going' calum said as he stared walking past me. But I reached forward to grab his wrist.

'Are you seriously to busy to even hang out with me? What has gotten into you, huh? All you do is go to rehearsal and go out with your friends, you seem to never have time for me, your girlfriend anymore' I looked into his dark eyes trying to see anything but all I could see was annoyance.

'Oh my god, fine then be ready by 6' Calum pulled his arm back and walked out of the room. I followed not wanting to give up.

'Are you serious, you are taking me out later?' I said before he walked out the front door. He turned around stood directly in front of me towering over me. I felt as if his eyes were burning into my soul, all I wanted to do was step back but I felt locked into place.

'Yes, I'll be back later' Calum reached forward and and caressed my cheek and leaned in placing a kiss on my forehead. He then turned out the door shutting it closed with a loud thud. I was left in the same position as he left me in. Confused his kiss didn't feel right on my skin anymore almost as if he had forced it. I walked back upstairs and into my room where I then laid on our bed. I glanced over to his side of the bed. It was slightly wrinkled as if he only slept on top of the blankets. I wish he was still here, I wish he would spend the day with me, I wish.... I wish he would love me... no he, does love me maybe he's having a hard time at the studio and rehearsal.

I rolled into my side and looked at my alarm clock it was 12:36 in the afternoon. I sat there deciding whether or not to clean the house. After a long sigh I got up and walked over to the laundry basket that of course had only my clothes in it with Calum's clothes all bunched up on the floor around it. 'For the last time the clothes goes into the basket' I groaned out loud, I put all the dirty laundry in to the basket and made my way down to the laundry room. I started organizing the clothes and washing and folding. It's amazing how much clothes Calum goes through in one week. After about an hour and a half of washing and folding I finally finished and fed duke and washed the dishes. The rest of the house was basically clean since I clean it almost everyday. I sat on the couch finally checking my phone. I responded to a few text and checked the time it was 3:17 I groaned and decided to watch tv. I flipped through the channels while duke laid on my lap.

'You understand me right' I spoke to the little furry dog that laid on my lap. Duke just continued to chew on his bone. 'Why is your owner such an asshole sometimes' this time duke looked up and whimpered almost as if he understood what I said

'But I love him just as much as I love you' I ruffled his fur and kissed his head. I got up finally making my way to take a shower and getting ready to go out with Calum.

I put on a two piece set with some sandals I curled my hair and sprayed myself with Calum’s favorite scent on me. My makeup was done and now it was just a waiting game.

6:30 rolled around at this moment he could just be late. I let duke go out into the backyard I watched him run around then come back inside where he literally stopped to look at me and then he ran back out. I laughed at every little thing he did he really does cheer me up when I’m feeling down. He’s like a best friend but I always wish he could talk that would be cool. I played tug war with him and I always let him win. He made me miss my family and my dog back home.

7:30 rolled around the sun was getting ready to set and there was still no sign of Calum. I knew at this point he wasn’t going to come but a small part of me still had hope. I was mad that I got all ready for him to not even show up but in the end I should have expected this it’s really no shocker. I texted him but it wasn’t the usual ‘hey are you still coming!’ Text. Rather I sent this instead ‘ you could’ve just told me you were busy tonight or not even have told me to get ready for disappointment tonight at all. It probably would have hurt less’. I dragged myself up stairs to change I put on some sweats and a Pink Floyd t-shirt, I slipped my checkers vans on and grabbed my credit card and keys. I decided to just leave my phone I got into my car and went to the local Mexican restaurant I usually go to. I really didn’t want to sit around being sad.

“Well well well welcome back, long time no see” Celia my usual waitress was always to cheerful.

“Yah yah yah I know” I laughed as I took a seat right in front of her as I scanned the menu as if I didn’t know what was on it.

“What will it be hermosa? The usual?” I nodded and handed her the menu.

“Wait Celia can I get it to go and a strawberry margarita to go as well please”

“Of course Emily, I’ll be right back” I scanned the restaurant it was pretty slow for a Friday night usually the place packed with customers.

“Slow tonight because banda MS is in town, how come you’re not there you usually love seeing and going to bailes mija”

“I wasn’t really feeling it tonight I guess” I wasn’t even feeling anything tonight. I didn’t even know my favorite Latin band was in town.

“What’s wrong chula you seem like you have a lot on your mind you know you can tell your momma Celia anything” I really wanted to cry she always made me miss my mom.

“I’m just stressed about school and work that’s all”

“No no I think this something else, do you got boy troubles is it that boyfriend of yours the Australiano” she could always tell what was wrong.

“Yah... he stood me up again I don’t know what to do anymore, god Celia i really love him, but he doesn’t seem to feel the same anymore. It’s like the more I try to talk to him the farther away he gets” tears welted up on my eyes but I held them in.

“Chula you cant force love, sometimes you just have to get up and go. If he is the one for you he will make that clear he will chase after you if he wants you for you because he loves you. And you will see that he wants you because he loves you, you will feel it but if he doesn’t want you then you need to move on and do what is good for you, you have to fall before you can get back up you are young and beautiful and dont forget you are a Latina, nos otras somos fuerte (we are strong) I don’t want to see you all sad next time you come in okay?” I hugged Celia she’s my mom from my home away for home.

“Okay thank you Celia” I paid and tipped her and left I made my way back home to finally eat my Nachos and drink my margarita.

11:30pm rolled by and there was still no sign of him. I always try and try and try. I Put others before myself, and my heart just isn’t ready to let go. I feel as if having this big heart of mine is only a blessing when it becomes an accommodation to other but it’s a curse to my feelings. I put my plates in the sink and my trash in the bin. I switch off the lights and locked up so I can head up to bed.

Another night alone, same bed that made me feel so loved and protected. Now it’s the place where I long for that innocent loving touch

#calum blurb #calum hood imagine #sad calum #calum 5sos #calum hood #calum hood fighting imagines #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum x reader #luke 5sos #ashton 5sos #micheal 5sos #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer #5sos #5sos fic

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connorssock · 5 years ago

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Hello, it's meh ! Here is the prompt idea i had. What if, Nines was chasing an android perp on the city roofs, and suddenly notices that Gavin is actually keeping up with him, with actually very impressive loves and leaps. After the whole chase, Nines is very impressed and learns that Gavin did parkour during most of his life, and now keeps himself in shape because he doesn't want to be replaced. (I'm a sucker for Reed900-)

This is such a beautiful prompt Amny, any character doing parkour or something like that is something that I treasure in my heart of hearts. So this might be more a bullet pointed thing than a full on fic but hopefully you don’t mind?

It had, like most things, started off as an accident. Gavin got angry at home and ran away.

He didn’t have a destination in mind, just wanted an out, for the world to swallow him up.

The nice thing about living in a city with so many tall buildings, he could scale fire escapes and the like until he was alone on a rooftop.

Except there were times he wasn’t alone.The first time he caught sight of the group, they were on another rooftop.

He watched them do flips, runs and jumps. Started trying to imitate them.

Needless to say, it didn’t always go well. He had to limp home with a twisted ankle or knee.

The group see him one evening, leap their way over.

Introductions were made and Gavin suddenly had a group of friends.

He learned quickly and soon was running across the rooftops with his new group, free and feeling like he belonged.

It was a habit that stuck. People came and went but Gavin still stuck to it.

Even as he grew up, all he did was adjust his lifestyle to make it possible to keep up the parkour.

It was how he met Tina originally. Then when they bumped into each other at the precinct, they both laughed.

Lunchtime runs for fun became a weekly thing.

Then the revolution happens, Nines turns up, yadda yadda.

There’s not much trust between them. Nines thinks Gavin is a weak human holding him back. Gavin thinks Nines is a stuck up prick.

Cases come and go. They have a functional partnership but no love is lost between them.

The a suspect legs it. Nines tells Gavin to stay behind as the criminal starts climbing a fire escape.

Gavin’s thoughts are along the lines of “fuck that” before he’s sizing up the surroundings and is off.

He’s up on the roof before Nines and is charging after the suspect who changed direction as soon as Gavin was spotted.

Gavin doesn’t pay Nines any attention as they hare across rooftops, leaping over gaps that should be daunting to most people.

In the end, Gavin body slams the suspect into the roof of an apartment complex.

“Fucking hell Gav, it’s me, Brett!” The suspect yells and Gavin stills. He knows that voice. One of the original group who brought him into the fold so to speak.

He’s got two seconds to decide whether to let Brett go and handle Nines or do his job.

In the end, morals and job wins out, no matter how much he feels he owes Brett. If he’s innocent, he’ll get off anyway and this will be just a mistake.

Gavin let’s Nines cuff Brett though and hangs back. They don’t say anything until they’re in the privacy of his car.

“Good work, Detective,” Nines offers begrudgingly. He hadn’t expected Gavin to be able to keep up with him. It’s the first sparkle of recognition for an equal.

Gavin, being his usual ass self, shrugs it off.

The next week he and Tina are off for a run, she stops him and says she’s found someone else interested in joining them.

Nines appears by her shoulder, dressed more appropriate for the occasion.

Shrugging, Gavin turns and heads out, letting Nines follow if he so wishes.

They’re silent on their runs for a while. Gavin jumping and flipping less than usual, uncomfortable with the idea of being analysed and his skill set being appropriated by an android.

Slowly, Nines starts copying but it’s obvious he’s learning. His chassis gets a dent when he misses a ledge and slams into it by accident.

Some weeks, Tina cries off with various excuses, case loads, cramps, forgetting a change of clothes.

Those weeks, it’s just Gavin and Nines. Slowly, Gavin starts doing more as he settles into the company. Not just leaps but vaults, climb-ups and focusing on precision too.

At times, Nines just sits back and watches with a small, indulgent smile until Gavin flops down on a roof next to him and they watch the city together in silence.

If, after some time, their hands gravitate towards each other, their fingers link, neither of them says anything.

They forget themselves when Tina joins them, Gavin sprawled with his head against Nines’ shoulder as Tina comes back from a loop.

She smiles and settles next to Gavin with a knowing smirk.

“So, when did you guys get together?”

They spring apart and look at each other alarmed while Tina’s face drops.

The idiots hadn’t realised where they were headed. Once more she was the one to have to knock them into realisation.

It still takes a few more weeks of shy hand holding and trying to figure things out before Gavin takes the final step.

To kiss on a rooftop would have been poetic, the city skyline colouring the horizon.

Instead, it’s just before they go to a scene, in the car. They are bickering about who takes the lead when Nines leans closer to hiss something.

Gavin takes the opportunity to mash their lips together and then grumble “you’re hot when you’re grumpy” before getting out the car and rushing to the door.

“Got here first, I take the lead.” He sticks his tongue out at Nines and knocks. Not expecting the smack to his backside.

“You’re insufferable. And don’t think you can escape feelings and talking about the kiss with work.”

It’s not a threat, more statement of fact. And when they get back in the car, Gavin having taken the lead on the investigation, Nines doesn’t let him turn the car on.

“We talk, now.”

He should have expected Gavin to grin and lean in for another kiss. “I speak in tongues,” he snickered and pulled Nines down for something a little more heated.

#reed900 #dbh: gavin #dbh: rk900 #parkour gavin #prompt fill #long post

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silentprincess100 · 5 years ago

Text

I wrote a Takaritsu fan-fic or something

I know this isn’t really the place to post it. IDK lol.

FINALLY after loitering about the fandom for long-enough.

Summary:

Ritsu wakes up the morning after he confesses to Takano and reflects on the nature of their relationship and what drew him to Takano both then and now.

Inspired by the line: “There is something that can’t be said to completely belong to then but also can’t be said to completely belong to now that is blossoming inside my chest” from Onodera ritsu no baai chapter 27. I might have translated it wrong, but I like the idea of it.

Onodera Ritsu was staring at the inside of his eyelids.

He could see the orange glow of the morning sunlight waiting on the other side. But he didn’t want to wake up yet.

Especially after what he had done last night.

He had done it. He had really done it. He had confessed to Takano-San.

He groaned aloud and flopped over on e bed, pulling his pillow over the back of this head.

He had known for a lot time that this was what he had to do, that this was what he was going to do. Of course it was Takano-San. Deep down, he had known it had always been Takano-San, had known it was always going to be Takano-San.

But the confession had had to come on his own terms. He wasn’t some naïve, giddy teenager anymore, but an adult with his own circumstances, riddled with the scars and defenses ones inevitably gets from being alive for 27 years (ok, twenty-six and some). He was old enough, mature enough to realize that not hating someone is not the same thing as loving them (ahem, Takano San), and that lust was also not the same thing as love (also looking at you, Takano-San). Love was something more complex altogether; it was messy and complicated and it took time and trust, and it couldn’t be just forced by simply saying I love you. After all, the two of them had had a really nasty breakup which ended up hurting both of them deeply. No one in their right mind could expect them bounce back from something like that as if nothing had happened.

For better or for worse then, their breakup and the aftermath had become a part of what shaped him. And if Takano-San couldn’t accept him for who he was now, then this was never going to work.

He hadn’t fallen in love with Takano-San simply because he had loved him then. What kind of a moron jumps to falls in love again with someone who broke their heart, someone they had spent 10 years trying to forget? He wasn’t born yesterday. What he liked about Takano-San, what he admired about Takano-San, was his ability to so valiantly hide his vulnerability behind his rough exterior, his utter calmness and self-possessed assurance in the face of chaos (whether it be the end of the cycle or hard-ball negotiating at the board room table with Yokozawa and the others), and his easy confidence in his own abilities.

But, of course, his competence warranted such confidence - and watching him do every day what he was good at was ... sexy, although Ritsu was loathe to admit that to the mega-ace super-talented ultra-editor - anymore than he already had, of course. In other words, Takano-San could do exactly what Ritsu so longed to do - be effortlessly put-together, smooth, cool, and confident. And unlike Ritsu who felt crippled by his anxieties about his family, about (possibly) inheriting Onodera Shuppan, about keeping up with work every day, Takano was able to just be in and enjoy the moment. Whereas Takano was the duck, smoothly gliding across the water, Ritsu was the feet, desperately flailing awkwardly around, so obvious and frank in its struggle to stay above the water. How appropriate also that Ritsu would be the feet of this relationship. He let out another long-suffering groan.

He had to admit, part of what he liked about Takano-San was how much Takano-San liked him, despite how much of a mess he was. Heck, he believes and likes me so much more than I like myself, Ritsu thought to himself with a dry laugh. But in all seriousness, it felt good to have someone believe in you even when- no, especially when - you didn’t believe in yourself.

And he loved the dedication Takano brought to his work. Behind his mask of confidence a Takano’s-san also worked his butt off. The feeling that everything had to be just perfect was something that Ritsu could 100% relate to, even if he wasn’t nearly as close as Takano-San to achieving it.

And yet, he had to admit that there was a undeniable part of their past in their relationship. For instance, his love of books. And the way they could talk about their favorite authors for hours. That passion for reading everything under the sun, as well as that thoughtful, withdrawn nature was what had drawn Ritsu to him initially. He still found that attractive as hell.

And something like a childlike idolization still lingered in his feelings for Takano-san. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself otherwise, it was true that he was, after all this time, still chasing after Takano-san, stubbornly clinging to a childhood crush. Takano-san had also been his first, after all (in so many ways.)

Like he had said before their relationship, his interest in Takano-San was something that could not be said to completely belong to now. Yet it also could not be said to completely belong to then either.

So while he hadn’t fallen in love with Takano-San simply because of what had happened in the past, he also couldn’t say it it wasn’t also because of what had happened in the past that they were where they are now. Or it wasn’t not because of what had happened that he felt so strongly about him. Or it wasn’t not not...?

Ughh it was complicated.

With another groan, he flipped over and finally opened his eyes, letting the sunlight flood in. He rubbed at them a couple times as his eyes adjusted to the light.

Takano-san’s room had the same layout as his own, only it was 1000 percent neater. He hadn’t expected Takano-San to be so particular about where he kept his stuff, to be so bare-bones, monastic aesthetic. But in a way it suited him. To allow himself the control he likes over everything and everyone else in his life. Not that he’d ever admit Takano-San had any control over him or his life - though it had been embarrassingly clear to him for a long time now that of course he did. Looking around at Takano-San’s few possessions, he felt an unprecedented calm settle over him.

He wouldn’t mind waking up here every day. No, he wouldn’t mind at all. But he didn’t want to disclose that to Takano-San just yet. Love was one thing, but moving in together was - whoaaa way too fast. Maybe, he mused, they would keep both of their apartments and just like alternate or something like that. Yeah, that’s it. Alternating. As much as he loved Takano (wow, it really was a load off not to have to have an internal battle royale with himself every time he thought about Takano - which was a lot) he hated change.

He sat up, rolled out of bed and toed on some pants that were lying around after their - ahem - activities of the previous night. Takano had laid out a shirt for him since his other one was in the wash (for reasons that made him blush furiously).

He slipped into the bathroom to brush his teeth and freshen up - he would be damned if Takano-San tried to kiss him again when he had morning breath (honestly this had happened more times than he wanted to admit) - and got ready to face the music. But just as he was about to step into the living room, his courage faltered.

How was he expected to face this man he now loved? It wasn’t like one teary confession and he would become a lovey dovey person destined to live happily ever after. He still had his pride - damnit! What did Takano-San expect after all- for him to fall all over him fawning and subservient and lovey-dovey? Please!

But. that still left the question of how to act now. Should he be extra short with him? Show him his place and not let him get too smug in his newfound knowledge that, yes, Onodera did love him back?

He didn’t get a chance to answer that question.

“You know I can see you standing there. What are you doing?” He heard the rumble of Takano-san’s just woken up voice. He furiously blushed.

“I know that,” Ritsu snapped back, but without much vitriol. “I am just.. thinking about my day that’s all.”

But when Ritsu walked in, and saw Takano sitting on the bookshelf nursing a cup of coffee, he wasn’t as lecture-y or condescending as he usually is. Rather he had such an adoring, amused look on his face that stopped Ritsu in his tracks for a moment.

“And what do you plan to do?” Takano blew softly on his coffee, never letting his eyes leave Ritsu.

“I’m ... I’m not sure yet.” Ritsu walked awkwardly and mechanically into the kitchen. He picked up a mug like a robot and jerkily poured some of the coffee left in the pot.

“You know you’re acting super weird, right now, right?”

“Well, sorry if my presence bothers you so much,” Ritsu bristled.

“On the contrary...” Unknowingly to him, Takano had slipped off his perch and sidled up against him. “I made you breakfast.” His voice was low and warm.

“Thanks...” Ritsu said awkwardly, glancing sidelong purposefully refusing Takano’s love-filled gaze. But Takano reached over and grazed his fingers along his cheek and gently turned his chin towards him.

“Um!” Ritsu jumped back instinctively.

Takano wavered for a split second - anyone who didn’t know him as well as Ritsu wouldn’t have even noticed - but then stepped in to close the distance between them and dipped his lips to meet Ritsu’s. Ritsu tensed a moment before giving into the affection.

Takano brought his hands up to cup Ritsu’s face as he deepened the kiss. His fingers stroked along Ritsu’s cheek lovingly, and Ritsu felt weird, as it always was when Takano was overly loving and gentle. Ritsu couldn’t help but pull away for a second.

“Ah- Takano-san...” He faltered.

He suddenly remembered their discussion of names last night. They were both close and Ritsu had had his legs locked around Takano’s waist, letting loose cries of “Takano-San” and “ah!!” Takano had silenced him with a kiss and then whispered low and deep in his ear - “No Takano-San, Masamune.” And Ritsu had been so gone as to whimper “Masamune” over and over like a prayer.

Thinking of this memory, Ritsu blushed furiously and felt very, very warm. He put up a hand to stave off Takano’s morning advances.

“Don’t you think we should — er...” he hesitated.

“What do you want, Ritsu?” Takano-San tucked a stray hair behind his ears.

He didn’t really feel like he wanted to call him Masamune though. For him, the name Takano-San symbolized his newfound relationship with this man - something that was different than the one he had had with Saga-sempai. Plus, calling him Masamune would remind him of being jealous of Yokozawa in the early days of their dalliances.

But Takano-San didn’t bring up the name thing like Ritsu thought he would, rather ruffled his hair and said, “C’mon, let’s go eat.”

Ritsu managed a mild glare at the patronizing behavior, reaching up to fix his hair immediately.

Takano-San was already in the kitchen finalizing their dishes. Ritsu watched him from afar, watched his lean but muscular arms reach to put out the plates, his slightly missed raven hair, his strong hands. Takano-San really was the most beautiful man he had ever met. Ritsu wouldn’t have minded just sitting here watching all day.

The two of them - they worked. Ritsu’s frantic, blustering energy with Takano’s cool confidence. In different ways, both of them wore their hearts on their sleeves. And they already knew so much about each other’s pasts and quirks. Ritsu could imagine doing this, waking up to breakfast from Takano every day for the rest of his life. He would never tell Takano-san that, but he could allow himself the fantasy.

Maybe it was complex. And yet at the same time maybe it was incredibly simple. The two of them, as they were now, were an imperfectly perfect product of both their past and their more recent experiences. A mosaic of old and new, for better or for worse.

Maybe it was precisely that, Ritsu thought, smiling softly, which made all the difference.

#Sekaiichi Hatsukoi #fanfiction #onodera ritsu #takano masamune #pg-13 i guess #post-canon #morning after (confession that is)#OOC? I hope not.#Someone help me get an AO3 account... or something.#okay maybe a little more than PG-13 i hope it doesn't get deleted #Am I writing why Ritsu likes Takano or why I like Takano?

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scoopsohboi · 5 years ago

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you look cute in that hat

Pairing: robin buckley/henderson!reader

W/C: 2575

Summary: since your first shift at hotdog on a stick starts soon, you drive dustin to the mall so he can see steve. while your killing time you flirt with robin.

-more robin readers-

-st readers-

“Stop running so fast! I swear that security guard has been watching us since the parking lot.” You were chasing after your little brother, Dustin, as he sped-walked ahead of you through the halls of Starcourt, his sneakers squeaking loudly on the linoleum causing the large man in a blue uniform to follow you two on the other side of the walkway. “Why are you in such a hurry, anyway?”

“That’s Phil. He’s had it out for me ever since he caught Mike, Will, Lucas, and I sitting in Nightmare on Elm Street without tickets.” You rolled your eyes as Dustin slowed his pace ever so slightly. “And I need to tell Henderson what I figured out last night.”

“Oh, right. The ‘Russian spy code’ thing,” you said in a mocking tone, using air quotes until Dustin spun on his heel and frantically grabbed your hands and shushed you loudly.

“Are you literally insane?!” He cried in a voice barely above a whisper. “Oh, my God, don't talk about it out loud,” he hissed before turning around as he muttered about letting the Russians get you and you quietly snorted in amusement. Dustin had burst into your room last night animatedly talking about how he’d intercepted a Russian transmission of a secret spy code. Although it sounded intriguing, you were only going to be home for about another month before you were leaving to start your first semester of college. You were pretty sure it wasn’t actually a spy message, but even so, you didn’t want to get murdered by Soviets before you left Hawkins. Unfortunately, being eighteen meant driver’s license and that meant driving your little brother around town.

“I still can’t believe you’re friends with Steve. Such a trip,” you muttered. You went Hawkins High School with Steve and the two of you were in the same grade, but you were never friends. In fact, you could probably count all the conversations you’d ever had with him on one hand. You had no clue why or how he’d become so close to Dustin. You tried to pry once but the boy never really told you much. Hell, the only reason you knew about the transmission was because none of Dustin’s friends were around to answer the phone. Needless to say you came from a very private family.

Dustin skipped ahead as you two reached the food court and you trailed behind him. You glanced up at the large clock on the wall and took note of the time. 3:20. Your mom made you get a summer job to save up some extra cash before leaving town and your very first shift at HotDog on a Stick was at four. You signed and continued after Dustin, reaching Scoops Ahoy just in time to see him bound around the front counter and to a back door labeled ‘Employees Only.’

“Hey, slow down, I just mopped!” A brown haired girl in a sailor costume chastised from behind the counter. “There’s a sign; you can’t sue if you trip.” You laughed a little and she turned forward, seeing you for the first time. Her blue eyes seemed to sparkle even under the shitty florescent lights and you felt your cheeks blush when she smiled. You knew Robin from school, too, and admittedly better than Steve, but not by much. The two of you had a few class projects together over the years, but nothing too substantial. Probably nothing close to warrant how big of a crush you’d developed on her. God, why did she have to look at you like that? You felt like a puddle already. “Hey, Y/N,” she said coolly, though her voice was slightly higher than usual as if she was surprised to see you. “How’s you summer going?”

“Just, you know, trying to get my life in order,” you shrugged. “I actually got a part-time job here.” Robin’s head cocked to the side slightly. “Not, like, here here,” you gestured to the ice cream shop. “But, like, in the…food court,” you finished lamely. Robin’s brow furrowed a little, confusion spreading over her features. You always liked how expressive she was. You absently wondered if she even knew she did it.

“I thought you were going to IUB?” You could feel your face heating up a little. You didn’t know how she’d heard about that- maybe Dustin mentioned it in passing, but the fact that she remembered made your stomach do flips. You cleared your throat a little, suddenly feeling very dry under Robin’s gaze.

“I, uh- I’m heading out mid-August, so my mom practically went handing out flyers to everyone she knows with a business.” You placed your elbows on the counter and leaned in a little closer to Robin. “I’ll have you know, you’re actually talking to the newest employee of HotDog on a Stick,” you said, shrugging like it was a big deal. Robin laughed and bit her lip.

“Oh, wow,” she said, feigning to be oh-so-impressed. “Lucky me.” Your eyes darted to her lips before you could stop yourself and you saw a little smirk dancing there. You caught yourself leaning in the tiniest bit of a fraction and you let your head fall a little as you let out a shaky laugh, trying to hide the blush that was spreading across your face. This was bad. You had it really bad and Robin didn’t even know what she was doing to you. You were in a crowded food court for fuck’s sake. Not to mention the fact that you didn’t even know if she liked girls. Which, knowing your luck was probably a ‘no.’ You let out a steadying breath before looking back up, feeling more composed after breaking eye-contact for a moment. You decided you were allowed to flirt a little, just to test the waters.

“Yeah, stick with me, baby, and you’ll never want for lemonade again.” You needed to keep it together but you could swear you saw a glimpse of something in Robin’s eye when you called her ‘baby,’ even if you were just joking around. You mentally composed yourself, not wanting to come on too strong and freak Robin out. You hadn’t even started your job yet that would mortifying. “Seriously, I can already tell my love for lemonade is going to go straight to shit.”

“Yeah,” she agreed with a nod, her smirk turning into a smile. “And hotdogs, fries, literally anything fried, probably.” You smiled and nudged her arm playfully. “At least you get one of those cute bucket hats,” she added slyly, bursting out laughing when you gave her a glare that only lasted a second because you couldn’t even fake being miserable with a literal angel laughing.

“Oh, come on. At least it’s not a sailor outfit,” she tried with a little curtsey, but you rolled your eyes.

“Please, at least you and Steve still manage to look hot in your uniforms. I’m going to be an ugly, striped cylinder. They literally make their employees look like rainbow-striped hotdogs. Like, what is that?” You spoke quickly, going on a short tangent without realizing you’d called Robin hot until after you’d finished. You hoped she didn’t notice, but you weren’t so lucky. She stood there very still, eyes slightly wider than before and lips parted softly, the ghost of her smile still evident. She blinked and shook her head slightly, furrowing her brow and biting the inside of her cheek. She opened her mouth, and then closed it, seemingly deciding whether or not to say something when the voices from the back-of-house started to grow. You saw Steve’s hair flop out from the doorway and Dustin was a few steps behind him. When he saw you Steve’s brows practically soared to his hairline.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, Steve,” you said, grateful for a distraction from the embarrassment of Robin still staring at you. She looked away then, and out of the corner of her eye you caught her tuck her hair behind her ear as her face grew red.

“How’s it going?” He made his way over to the center of the counter next to Robin. You shrugged, sneaking a glance to the girl whose eyes were trained on the register before turning your attention back to Steve.

“Not bad, just waiting for my shift to start. Dustin wouldn’t stop bugging me about coming here all morning so I had to leave a bit earlier than I planned.”

“I forget that you guys are related,” Steve said with a laugh and Dustin huffed next to him, hand already digging a testing spoon into a tub of ice cream.

“I wish I could forget,” he muttered. You scoffed.

“Shut up, you love me.” Dustin made a noise of disgust and you couldn’t help but smile. The two of you didn’t share your personal lives with each other very often, but you and Dustin had your own sibling adventures over the years. From days at the arcade, to driving across Indiana to see a Star Wars trilogy marathon in Bloomington, you knew the kid really did care a lot about you.

“Shift where?” Steve asked as he swatted Dustin’s hand away from the toppings. You jabbed a thumb behind you to where the bright neon sign stood behind you across the sea of messy tables and people eating greasy pizza. Steve caught where you were gesturing and grinned. “Ah, I see. Going to be one of those cute HotDog on a Stick girls, huh?” You felt your face heat up immediately.

Steve Harrington had never flirted with you before. If it had been a few years ago, you would’ve died completely. Having Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington talk to you like that would’ve melted you like butter, even when he was a total douchebag. You knew Steve wasn’t the same guy he was sophomore year, if his being so close to your brother was any indication, but you’d changed a lot over the years, too. There was no denying that Steve was incredibly gorgeous, but that crush had long since fizzled. You’d had your eye on someone else for a while. Someone who also happened to be standing right in front of you.

“I don’t know about that,” you said, trying to regain some composure. It was getting very hot despite you being so close to an actual icebox and you could feel your palms getting sweaty. You were desperate to get the attention off yourself. “Dusty,” you called quickly, trying to change the subject, “did you tell him about the transmission?” Steve blinked as Dustin began to excited regale his findings, watching you curiously for a moment before turning his attention to the kid.

You sighed internally once the spotlight was turned on someone else and chanced a glance at Robin. She looked distracted, blue eyes flitting back and forth like she was thinking deeply about something. You turned to check the clock again and your first shift started in fifteen minutes. You decided you might as well run away now and try to distract yourself with the assumingly terrible job training you were about to endure. You pushed off the counter, gaining some attention from both Robin and Steve. “I’m going to head over. Don’t want to be late,” you said, looking at Dustin and Steve and trying very hard to not stare at Robin.

“Oh, okay. Bye, Y/N,” Steve said, sounding a little disappointed you were leaving so soon. Dustin muttered a quick ‘buh-bye’ before going back to his conversation with Steve. You finally looked over at Robin and you hated that it was one of the few times you couldn’t read her face at all. You would’ve given anything to read her mind.

“I’ll see you later?” you offered, and Robin smiled softly.

“Yeah,” she said quietly with a nod, as if confirming it. You had no idea what the damage would be from that conversation but you tried to brush it off as you turned around and made your way upstream to HotDog on a Stick. You met your manager and trainer for the day before getting started on the basics. After about an hour you heard a familiar voice talking to one of your coworkers. Your head shot up to see Robin, changed out of her uniform and into her regular shorts and shirt, chatting easily with your manager. You tried to focus on the task you were learning- how to smash the lemons, while straining to hear what they were talking about.

“-but I’m finally off so I don’t have to deal with that anymore,” Robin finished. You wondered what she was talking about as your manager laughed. She wouldn’t talk about you- you knew that. But that didn’t mean your subconscious was reasonable. Your stomach twisted as you started to grow anxious. “Actually, do you mind if I steal one of your employees for literally a minute?” Robin asked shyly and you felt like you might pass out.

“We’re supposed to carpool for church tomorrow and I wanted to make sure she knows where to meet.” You couldn’t help but snort at her quick excuse to talk to you. You tried to cover it with the sound of your smashing, but it didn’t work out too well. You just turned all your attention on the bucket of lemons in front of you.

“Y/N,” Robin called, this time a lot closer, and you looked up to see her leaning on the doorway beside you, nodding quickly toward the main food court. You nodded and held out the handle of the stomper to your coworker before rubbing your hands on your apron and following her out and a few tables down. She turned around and smiled at you, grin growing as she looked up at the hat. You instantly blushed.

“Don’t,” you warned. She smiled widely, full teeth, and you couldn’t help but crack a smile as well. “What do you want?” you asked, pretending to be harsh though it had no bearings considering how much you were grinning now too. Now it was Robin’s turn to blush.

“I-um…what are you doing tonight?” The question took you by surprise as your heart began to hurt in anticipation. You were pretty damn sure where this was going and your head was spinning with disbelief and excitement.

“I-I have work until 8,” you stuttered, a little frozen just thinking about Robin literally asking you out. Robin laughed a little, and you could tell you sounded a little Steve-ish but sometimes talking to Robin made your brain fry. How were you supposed to act normal anyway with her staring at you like that with her amused grin? You wished she would just put you out of your misery already.

“And after?”

“Whatever you’re doing,” you said with a shrug, snapping out of your stupor enough to regain control of the situation. Robin bit her lip, trying to hide her big grin as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Cool,” she said, though her eyes told you everything she didn’t dare say out loud. Things you’d both reveal later behind closed doors and out of reach from unwanted ears. “So, 8:30?” she asked and you nodded. She glanced back up at the hat before gazing into your eyes again. “You really do look cute in that hat.”

It was going to be a great night.

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley imagine #stranger things imagine #robin buckley/reader #robin buckley/you #robin buckley x hendrson!reader #robin buckley/hendrson!reader #henerson!reader #stranger things fanfiction #robin buckley fanfiction #robin buckley x you #scoopydoo #robin

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honestsycrets · 6 years ago

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Behind the Door

↳ modern au

Author’s Notes | for @lisinfleur

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader, abusive!oc x reader

❛ word count | 4750

❛ genre | oneshot with some angst

❛ summary | the girl in the hall, he wants to know her. the only one in his way? her abusive boyfriend.

❛ warnings | emotional abuse, physical abuse, abusive relationships, some violence

Money talked.

Hvitserk knew that it did and he had gotten lucky with his father’s reputation. His job was to play and travel; kicking his soccer ball across a dewy field every day. It was something natural and freeing to him, almost like if he was flying like mother’s falcon across the field. A pop and twist of his foot and he could whizz a ball with the soaring wind into a white knit net.

A life of salads, long practice days and a flight from Copenhagen out half way across the world led up to this moment carrying up suitcases to his new apartment. Luckily, the furniture was all moved in a few days before but-- fuck, he was preparing to be here for the long haul. That meant lots and lots of clothes being brought up this metal box of an elevator.

Ding! Fourteenth floor. The doors whizz open.

“--Really? You don’t think that’s too short?”

“I-- I thought it would look nice. I made it myself.”

Couple scuffles-- it wouldn’t be the first time he walked in on one. Usually, no one had the balls to do them in the open. Especially not in a well to do area like this. Hvitserk turns his huge suitcase in a circle and throws the dark duffel bag over his shoulder. As he passes the plasticy tags with black numbers of each door, he realizes that he’s getting painfully close to the couple-- and painfully close to his own apartment.

The man leans over into his girl’s face, tugging the hem of her mid-thigh length dress made of some comfortable sweater fabric. Hvitserk wore sweaters just like the one she had made into a dress-- complete with buttons down to her belly button. The richness of her choice in green made his mouth salivate with a burst of energy.

His synaesthesia was acting up today.

“Hey man, would you let your girl go out looking like this?” The man says harmlessly enough and true, Hvitserk thinks-- he might have been jealous too. Not because something was too short but because the girl looks too good. Dressed to the nines, manicured fingers flirtatiously in her hair and a pair of heels with a strap across cute toes painted black. Edgy. A hint of kinky past her preppy appearance. She must have been a hell of a fuck.

She stares straight ahead, over his shoulder and the nape length blonde hair that tickled the sides of her face. The man stands upright, several inches taller than her. Every once in a while, she would glance to Hvitserk’s jawline, running over the curling hairs of his jaw and then back to her blond haired, sea-eyed boyfriend. Or husband, god forbid. This guy was a complete ass.

“Uh.” He runs his tongue over his tooth. With a vapid smile, he shrugs his shoulders. “I can’t help you, man. Women like what they like.”

It’s the safest bet. The wheels of his suitcases clack as he stops in front of his plain door, draping the duffel bag on his suitcase. If he wasn’t being stupid, he could have sworn she flashed him an adorably belligerent smile, a bit of tooth peeking out from her lips. He shuffles in the pocket of his joggers, knocking away his leather wallet until he found the ring of his new keys.

“Yeah, yeah guess that’s the truth.” The man says looking to Hvitserk who opens the door, balancing with his foot. “You need help, dude?”

“Weren’t you going out?” Hvitserk asks. The woman shifts, a light shake in her head. She opens the door to their apartment and slides out of sight into the ill-lighted apartment.

“Na, I don’t think so.” The man jogs forward and takes ahold of his suitcase. He wheels it in. “I’m Jesper Sørensen.”

“Uh, Hvitserk.” He mutters.

“Number 10! Hvitserk Ragnarsson?”

Shit.

“I knew I recognized you from somewhere, man.” He comes into his crisp apartment. It’s white-- dusty on his tongue as he walks in. He appreciates the calmness of the grey walls and matching dark hardwood floors. Had it been more than that, he might actually get triggered.

“You’re fucking lucky to do work like that. I do pharmaceuticals. Let you in on a secret brother, it’s some boring shit!”

I’m not your brother, Hvitserk thinks. He lets it go, stretching his back out and looking out toward the bright beach outside his window. He catalogues the bend of the beach in his eye knowing that he would most likely spend a lot of time here in the future. Then as to not ignore his new visitor, he turns back toward the column of stacked boxes.

“What can I say? I’m a lucky man.” Hvitserk beams a tall tale fake smile, pulling open a box. One of many, many boxes. Jesper takes a step toward the door— then stops.

“Hey uh, you need some help around here?”

Hvitserk looks toward him, dusting off a picture of his mother modeling.

“I mean you’ll be here forever man unless you got yourself a lady to do this.” Jesper scratches his head. Hvitserk finds it almost cute-- any of the women that he had in the past would only do it for sake of doing it so that they could rub it in his face that, ha! She got it done!

Hvitserk laughs. “Nah, my picker is broke. I get chicks that want me for my money.”

“Beats wanting attention all the time, right?” Jesper picks up a box and settles it on the ragged leather of his couch. “Shit, (Y/N) will be pissed at me all day.”

“She always like that?” Hvitserk makes small talk. He pulls a picture of Björn and he backpacking through Spain— his brother’s idea.

“Yeah. She needs attention all the time man. That’s why she wants to be a model even though her legs are short as shit.” Hvitserk remains quiet for some time debating whether to continue on that or not.

“She’s pretty.”

Jesper looks up, a small shake in his head even with his newfound friend’s words. Pretty, he can see the man think. It’s almost as if he feels threatened by those words. Hvitserk knew how men thought-- he had to. Ivar had a temper worse than this sack of shit.

“Yeah. Yeah, she’s pretty.”

Most days Hvitserk thought nothing of it.

He sat on his metal balcony looking out toward the beachside front. Fluffy clouds blocked most of the hot sun. There was a light breeze carrying on the wind. The people here are strange flying their thin kites on tangled strings or chasing each other on the sandy beach. Sometimes some dumbasses would explode fireworks by accident and other times, he might see something as outrageous as a scarved pug on a beach blue skateboard.

His favourite sight, when he was home, was her.

Jesper’s girl who would go out in a strappy bikini, a sheer midnight blue wrap on her round hips and an adorable straw hat complete with a matching bow. For hours she would walk the moist shoreline of the beach, bend down and go on her way.

Seashells, he theorized.

Then she would come up the stairs before Jesper would get home, slapping black flip flops with wet cracks up the stairs. Sometimes he made it a point to go to the front door where she was, just like today.

“I see you have some sea-- seashells there sweetheart.” The older ladies there made it a point to talk to her. She stood with one, holding the back of her hat while drops of water trembled down sunbaked skin. Her hair would crust with the salty hair time after time.

“Oh, yes.” She says sweetly. “I am making a new dress.”

“A dress of shells?” The old lady croons curiously.

“My niece loves shells.” Her lips purse together, fresh with a perfect cherry chapstick. Hvitserk peeks his head out enough that the older women knew he was there listening. “I was thinking of making her a dress. I don’t see her often.”

“I’m so sorry dear.”

At the end of the conversation, Hvitserk made it a point to gather his ring of jingling keys and jam his phone, a little too fat, in his pocket. He could pick up dinner-- and have an excuse to talk to her more than with Jesper’s presence over her. For a girl walking the beach, he had to wonder what more there was to her when Jesper wasn’t looking.

“H-- Hey (Y/N).” He steps out just as she jangles with a ring of keys. She glances over her freckled shoulder, fluttering long lashes at him. His favourite part are the sun freckles that are baked onto her skin.

“Mr. Ragnarsson.” She says, turning around after popping the door open. Her foot keeps the door ajar while she stands there, now fiddling with a piece of hair. A small flirt-- women always fiddle with their hair when flirting.

“It’s Hvitserk.” He locks the door behind him, hands now in his pockets.

“Hvitserk. I should be going now. I’m not really… free today.”

It always lasts far too little. She slips into her door to go on about sewing her beautiful things. He gathers that by the fabric she totes up the stairs on occasion. Then, just as always, he goes on about his way down the stairs. It was lunch… and Hvitserk? Hvitserk had another salad on his mind.

If only he waited a while longer, he might have heard her sewing machine hit the floor.

Something was different.

He couldn’t place it but… she no longer spent time on the beach. Every night he had available he would look out expecting to see her in her cute bikini, plucking sand crusted shells and rushing home with flopping flipflops before the sun broke past the horizon.

Number 10, Hvitserk Ragnarsson does it again! Another stunning shot!

He flicks the buzzing television off. It was nothing but them pumping him up all the time. It would have been nice-- but he in no way wanted to be ostracized by the rest of his teammates. Perhaps that’s why him being sick, hacking and coughing up some mucky yellowish crap up his throat was for the best.

This way someone else could have the spotlight.

Ding-Dong!

Hm? Hvitserk’s feet shift between the leather and the soft white throw covering his feet. The hardwood floors are cool to the touch, so he hops the whole way into the door. One look on the peep hole revealed her. She stood barefoot against the dull blue carpet in the hall, looking down. He draws the heavy door apart.

“(Y/N)?” He asks, eyes looking down to a lime coloured bowl covered in sticky plastic wrap. Her long hair tumbles around half of her face-- obscuring one eye. She shifts in her jaunty yellow sundress.

“You didn’t go to practice.” She states. “I thought maybe you weren’t feeling well.”

He didn’t know she noticed-- he practiced most days, went to games when he needed to and flew out the country on a regular schedule. It was almost as good as having Ubbe to notice when he was home and when he wasn’t.

“Yeah, stomach flu or something.” He comments, stepping aside. “You wanna come in?”

“Oh no I-- I shouldn’t.” She says so abruptly that he thinks that she might have a conniption. He looks around the vanilla walls of the hall.

“I don’t think he’s out there.” Hvitserk says almost knowingly. He didn’t know the intimate details of their relationship. Yet when it was game day, not for soccer, he had noticed how harshly Jesper spoke of her.

The amount of time she spent sewing-- when in his words, she should have been cleaning and cooking. She should have been on her knees waiting to suck him off. If he were honest, not even he would spend his time degrading himself on the ground for a sack of shit like him.

Hvitserk brings the bowl to the milky countertop of his kitchen just around the corner. She shyly ambles around, stopping short of the breakfast bar. He unwraps the bowl, looking at her warm chicken soup with doughy noodles.

“Is that another of (Y/N)’s creations?” He looks back to her.

“Oh I worked in a Chinese restaurant once--”

“No.” Hvitserk laughs, motioning his finger in a twirl. “The dress.”

She glances down and slaps her hands against the beautiful a-line skirt. Her hands slip down from covering the v-neckline to gently pull out the flowy skirt. Then playfully she twirls around in a quick spin, her skirt becoming nice and full. When she stops, she doesn’t realize that her hair sways away from her normally perfectly made up face. If he wasn’t mistaken, that was a blotch on her cheekbone.

“It is!” She says all at once with a cute little laugh. “Jesper said it was too short.”

“Shorter the better for me.” Hvitserk reaches for a black ladle inside the milky drawer. “It looks like something mor would like.”

“Aslaug?” She leans over the countertop with one hand propping up her cheek. He has to force himself to look away from the fingerprint bruises and cigarette burns littering her arms.

“No other!” Hvitserk spoons a bowl for her and then one for him. “Your designs-- they’re exactly the sort of thing she’d like. Uh, this way.” He sets the ladle into the stainless steel stink and motions her out toward his favourite place in the entire apartment-- the balcony.

She daintily sits upon the ottoman that usually he sets his sneakers upon. Almost like a doll-- because she sits there effortlessly. He notices the fine detail of her skirt, glimmering with crushed shells. Or what he thinks might be the crushed shells. She takes a sip of the salty soup she’s made, looking out toward the lapsing waves on the grainy shore.

“Maybe you could give me your portfolio.” Hvitserk says. “I know you have one with all the pieces you make. She might be interested.”

“You think so?!”

“Yeah, of course.” He says, sniffling. “Plus when you model them, it makes it that much better.”

“Oh I don’t know about that.”

“You’re gorgeous.” Hvitserk blurts out, then realizes his words promptly. He runs his tongue up over the honey coloured hairs of his moustache, trying to decide why exactly he said what he said. She doesn’t seem exactly off put, gazing out at the sun setting behind the line of the horizon.

“I haven’t heard that in a long time.”

“If you had someone who was worth a shit, maybe they would tell you. I know I would.” He glances up from his doughy noodles off to her, she brightens into a smile-- a lying smile when she promptly loses it to the tune of her phone vibrating intensely. He wonders if that dress has pockets when she swipes it out from her bra, eradicating that thought the second he had it.

“Jesper?” He asks.

“Yeah I-- he’s probably hungry. He doesn’t like it when I leave his food out.” She murmurs, silencing the phone with a click of the button on the side.

Hvitserk clears his throat. “Yeah, listen (Y/N), the mark across your cheek--”

“I fell in the bathroom.”

This must have happened a million times with her because she had an answer before he could even formulate a complete answer for him. He recalls what his mother said over the phone about women in abuse. Fighting them, it would just make it that much easier to stay. If she left him, it would be endlessly better than seeing her body littered in bruises.

“Right.” He says. “Just uh… make sure to watch out for yourself. Sharp corners, right?”

Although she doesn’t say anything as she gets up, she gleams a sweet, apologetic look in her eye. She straightens out her beautiful dress and takes the bowl to the kitchen. Somewhere behind him, he hears:

“Thank you, Hvitserk.”

Then, like usual-- she’s out the door.

In Hvitserk’s life, he was never exactly sure of anything. He wasn’t sure if Ivar really loved him. He wasn’t sure if moving across the world was the right choice-- but he was sure of one thing. Those weren’t lovemaking screams.

“Where were you!” It’s muffled. “You were with that fuckin’ Ragnarsson again!”

He wasn’t dumb. He knew when a duck was a duck and that frantic screaming-- her intermittent “please” was definitely not something anyone should be ignoring. The apartment complex is eerily silent other than the crashing of objects within her apartment.

“Let go!”

Brinnng. Brinnng.

“Hvit?” It’s like six in the morning there-- he knows. His brother’s voice is weighed down heavy on the other line. Heavier than his usual husk and groan that he always teased Ubbe about growing up. “It’s--”

“Six, I know.” He whispers. His voice almost sotto voce it has gone so low. “Listen I--”

“FUCKING WHORE!”

“Hvit?”

“Yeah, no I’m here, sorry.” Hvitserk considers his brother once again, tearing his eyes from the heavy door that separates him from the hallway. “My neighbors are fighting.”

“Are you scared?” Ubbe says from across the line. He feels almost six again, holding onto the tails of Ubbe’s shirt while they sought out cold waters to escape the endless pain mother put them through… together.

“No, I uh-- It might be my fault.”

“Your fault?” Ubbe shuffles on the other line. He can tell that his brother is sitting upright now. “What do you mean?”

“I should’ve put a goddamn bullet in your head the first time, fat fucking skank ass bitch!”

Hvitserk’s hand is at his mouth now that he stands in the hall closest to the door. The closer he got, the more audible her screams became. The door almost seems to vibrate underneath them. Or perhaps, in a way, that’s his chest that is buzzing with every moment of uncertainty sinking under his skin like the pricks of pins.

“I invited her in.”

For any ordinary man, harmless. Truly harmless. For a man that was considered more successful than Jesper, treason. He should have never said that he did not see Jesper down the hall. The man had ears in the walls and eyes constantly following her every little move.

Then, there’s silence. Nothing but the smoothness of a cello quartet that she typically would play when she was creating late at night with her hair up in a gorgeous midnight blue ribbon. He only knew as much because on occasions that she took her art book upon the beach, she drew. She would draw her hair up in a ribbon. Salty drawings of sexy, cute and even hopeful pieces would be in her hands when she came up the stairs.

It was supposed to be a soothing place for her. He ruined that too, as he quickly comes to the conclusion that Jesper caught onto Hvitserk’s haplessly excited expression every time she came up the stairs. Hvitserk shifts the waistband of his joggers, mind foggy and heavy with the headache that had been beating his head all day.

“Hvit you know better than that.” Ubbe says. “I told you not to let her in.”

He couldn’t help it. There was no way that he could have known the mood that Jesper would be and staring accusingly to the door, he paces to it. Then, popping the door open, he steps out into the soft, dimly lit hall.

“I know.” Hvitserk says wearily to even his own ears. His heart rate quickens, he can feel it beating against his skin, leaping like his mother’s stupid teacup pomeranian nipping at his ankles when he came home from high school with his brothers. “I’m sorry.”

His knuckles rasp at the last door, reaching to whoever is behind it. The susurration behind the door fills Hvitserk with premature anxiety, bubbling under his skin. Hvitserk slips his phone in his pocket and replaces a bud in his ear.

“Hvitr?” Ubbe shifts. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t say anything.” He says. “Just stay with me.”

The door opens.

“Hvitserk! Hvitserk!”

It smelled like bleach. The kind that his mother threw upon the carport floor after Ivar took a baseball bat to that kid’s head. So bad that he remembers his skin prickling with the sear of chemicals, his whole respiratory system bursting into hacks that he couldn’t control. He thought that he might not recover, wheezing for his mother.

It’s just a little burn, she said. You’ll recover. Do it for him.

The little boy and his parents were gone now. If he waited much longer, something told him that she would be too. The door opens-- but only slightly. Enough that Hvitserk catches Jesper’s cloudy blue eyes in the crack of the door. His lips pull into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hvitserrrrkkk.” He slurs in one long, jittery breath.

Hvitserk’s hand curls in the space between the door and the metal frame, yanking the door of his fingers to crack it back against Jesper’s forehead. This was crazy-- having Ubbe on the line, barking at him.

Got damn it Hvitserk!

He dips into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. With a scraping, rough voice he darts from Jesper’s lurch toward him, drawing out the gun from his waistband. Jesper jerks back, holding up his hands.

“Don’t fuck with me.” Hvitserk says, his chest tightening. He’s not breathing-- or so, he thinks he isn’t breathing. Jesper’s motions slow to a stop, dropping the heavy blade from his fat fingertips. It falls with a clatter on the hardwood floors.

“Where is she?” He says.

“It wasn’t my fault.” Jesper says again. This time, his words made his skin prickle. It only serves to aggravate him-- pushing his anger to bubble over the surface so quickly that he can feel himself gnashing his teeth already.

“You wouldn’t shoot me.” Jesper asks, his eye narrowing upon him. It’s the last he can take, turning his hand up from the outstretched position. The whole time he had been calling a bluff, and there it was, Jesper would have thought. Moments later, Hvitserk brought the butt of his gun down upon Jesper’s cheek, knocking him off balance and onto the ground.

“Where the fuck is she?!” He demands. He loses the control over his voice, raising in his tone when Ubbe reminds him. Check yourself, Hvitserk. He never wanted this life-- but he’s as much a Ragnarsson as any of his brothers sporting a blinding intense rage and in case of fight versus flight, well, they would always fight.

“The bathroom!”

Hvitserk makes a grunt of approval somewhere deep in the back of his throat, and then, his pistol comes upon him again. It’s a blur of slams, knocking him across the face with force until he drops to his satisfaction. In all his promises of what he wouldn’t be, he never thought that this would be him.

Rushing to clear the apartment on the way to the bathroom. Like Bjorn as a police officer showed him how to clear out his own home. In case anyone was ever snooping. Which… this was obviously not his case today.

Ssshhh…

It sounds like the ocean. The water coming in with great, swelling force. But instead of crashing and pulling back into the endless depths, Hvitserk’s bare feet squish. It’s… water. He cuts the corner into the master bathroom. Blood streaks with thin water over the bathroom floor, filling his tongue with the taste of iron before anything else. The red, red blood throws his heart into a pulsing overdrive. He follows the blood to her slashed calve. Her body draped over the edge of the tub. Not moving-- not… not…. Nothing.

“Hvitserk talk to me.” Ubbe calls out to him.

“Help me, Ubbe.”

Ten more minutes.

That was all Ubbe and she had left before he would be back. A litany of the counting down of seconds falls from her lips as she stands there, waiting warily for him to arrive. No guests were allowed at the plane gates and so they waited just outside the baggage claim for him.

Flight number 135, arrival from Los Angeles.

“He’s almost here.” Ubbe whispers from behind her. She stands there on a full stomach, knowing just that Hvitserk is going to want to eat anyway! Excitedly she refreshes her phone not just once-- but a hundred times.

Hvitserk I’m finally here! My numb ass isn’t yet, tho.

She looks over the calendar again, a barrel of excitement. It had been months since she last saw him. When she finally sees him darting down the stairs, ignoring the escalator-- she rushes to grasp her crutches at either side of her arms, standing up with a great amount of force.

“There’s my baby!” Hvitserk yells through the great open space of the baggage claim. Everyone had to have heard that. She hobbles forward, a beautiful deep blue dress hugging down to her knees. Hvitserk sweeps her off the ground, twirling her around while enjoying her brilliant laughter.

“Hvitserk!”

When he puts her down again, she sways, narrowly falling if not for her sweet Hvitserk dipping down to pick up her crutch. He supports her while she takes into her hand, limping in time with him.

“How was the flight?” She asks sweetly.

“It was good.” He responds in turn, looking down to her before over to Ubbe. The three slowly amble over to the metal baggage claim. The bags don’t come down the metal slide just yet. Hvitserk glances to the shifting plates and then finally chooses to say something.

“I heard that Mor approved your clothing line.” He says, slurring a little with loss of sleep on the plane. He couldn’t sleep an inch since he got on there. “The press seems to like your pieces in the line for uh, “adaptive” needs. Did you have to tell them about what happened?”

“Of course I had to.” She says. “My leg wasn’t like this when I met you, right? Modeling pretty bikinis and sundresses all day...”

Hvitserk shifts uncomfortably-- looking over to Ubbe who stands with his hands folded one over another. Her relationship wasn’t the only thing that ended that day. The dream of being some big supermodel like the Aslaug, queen of the supermodels, also died. Whether anyone said it or not-- no one wanted a model with a limp.

“(Y/N).” Ubbe prompts, thick and slurry. It's laughable to her now but for a congested airport where passengers are tightly clustered around their baggage claim, she knows that more than one has turned to look at her. The metal plates shift around the machine. Ubbe moves forward to go find Hvitserk’s bags.

“It wasn’t your fault okay?” She says. “Who knew a silly achilles tendon could make such a fuss.” She almost makes a joke of it. Maybe its to bite back the pain she was in on a constant basis. Just like his brother Ivar told him once.

“So you’re doing this for you, then?”

“I’m doing it because all women deserve to be sexy. All of them. My clothes will bring them that.” She leans against his arm. “Ivar understands.”

Ivar was also, oh, Hvitserk didn’t know-- born like that. Hvitserk worries what might happen from this new narrative of abuse. Not for his sake but for hers. His mother promised this would be done carefully to keep her safe.

“Yeah, you know, I do too.” Hvitserk swallows. “It’s good. It’s just--”

“You’re worried about me.” She shifts around, looking outside of large arching windows that bring in bright light. A radiant light that fills the airport with hope, and for her, as Hvitserk discovers… a new chance at life. Outside, Ivar reclines against the car with his hand upon his own crutch. It was only a loading zone but hey, being a cripple did have its benefits!

“Yeah.” Hvitserk swallows.

“You don’t have to be.”

Then as he opens his mouth again, she leans up to his lips. She places a closed lipped kiss upon his lips. Then as she turns, shouting at Ubbe to hurry up, Hvitserk smiles. This... this girl, the loud one with beautiful dresses and vibrant makeup, this was the real her.

“Because Hvitserk-- I’m finally free.”

@two-unbeatable-beaters, @igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok (no mix), @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @titty-teetee, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @piebytheocean, @strangunddurm, @atequilahead, @rekdreams247, @justacrush, @ivarswonderlust, @peachesnpisces, @elenawrit, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @roxxck, @dylanowhyyien, @ilvebeenabad, @vikingsmania, @huntingbears, @my-little-wolfe, @seize-the-droid, @moondustmemories, @colourmeinblue, @ilvebeenabad, @queenmissfit, @hallowed-heathen, @neeadinghugs, @mblaqgi, , @triumphantreturnofpies, @dmv49, @attorneyl, @iconicvaleria-blog, @lovelynerdytraveler, @tierneygonzalez, @zabee113, @meganjudee, @sdcyumyum, @ms-allenbrown, @pancake-blonde, @ivarswickedqueen, @starkiddreamer, @austenkingmylady, @thisisparadisemylove, @pinkrockstar19, @jeowjungkook, @end-of-night, @yaminax-kuss-a , @gruffle1, @arses21434@natalie-rdr, @tempt-ress, @thevikingsheaux, @poisonedjoinery, @smokealone, @chewythecatus, @laughinglikenialler, @lefrenchfrye, @mybarnesmyhero, @vengefulflange, @imcreepininyourheartbabe, @therealmrshale, @that-goodgirl, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @athroatfullofglass @igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke @arses21434, @smileyparrots, @Moosemittens13, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @fangirls94, @mcuimxgine, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102, @astoryoffireandlight, @smokealone, @shaelyn102 @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly--canthrope

#Hvitserk x Reader #Hvitserk/Reader #Vikings x Reader #Vikings/Reader #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk's heathen feast #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson imagine #Hvitty imagines

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jbuffyangel · 6 years ago

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The Light Bulb Moment: Arrow 7x05 Review (The Demon)

Oliver Queen has a light bulb moment that’s been seven years in the making.

Team Felicity (yes that’s the name) has one as well, which means we are that much closer to being done with the prison arc!

Let’s dig in...

Oliver Queen

We finally find out who The Demon is and I gotta say I was legitimately surprised. However, as soon as I found out it was Talia Al Ghul I thought

It had to be someone related to the League of Assassins and Talia would consider herself The Demon since Ra’s Al Ghul is dead. It’s not like Talia and Nyssa are besties. The amount of hoops Oliver had to jump through to get to The Demon also fits perfectly with Talia Al Ghul, as he notes.

The real question is how Talia ended up in Slabside and it seems we have Batwoman to thank. Nice shout out to Gotham and a not so subtle reference to the rapidly approaching crossover.

Talia survived Lian Yu, but it was Diaz’s super drug that healed her. Not unlike how it temporarily healed Diggle’s injury. Excellent tie in writers.

Talia is beholden to Diaz, but unfortunately she has no idea where he is. UGH.

It’s a little surprising Talia believes Oliver will help her escape. Listen girlfriend, you sided with Adrian Chase and his baby Mama ended up dead.

However, Talia (rightly) points out Oliver murdered her father. She’s not exactly an Oliver Queen fan. So, whatever Dr. Parker is doing to the prisoners is making Talia pretty desperate.

Oliver: You stood on the same side as Adrian Chase and my son lost his mother. So now I’m here trying to save what’s left of my family because I am stuck in a cycle of violence and I have been stuck there since the moment you told what to do with my father’s list.

(Not gonna lie, I was a little verklempt when Oliver referred to Samantha as his family. Olicity and Samantha would have killed it at co-parenting.)

It seems like Oliver has bought into Dr. Parker’s brain bullshit, but he’s just playing along. He doesn’t really believe he’s been stuck in a cycle of violence. I mean, he has but not in a bad way or at least not entirely. I also argue with his conclusion the cycle began when he met Talia. Oliver was thrown into violence the second he stepped onto the raft.

Talia didn’t create “the monster.” She just gave Oliver direction on how to use it.

There are a couple reasons why Oliver is pretending to be brain washed. It is possible he believes he’s being watched and doesn’t want to tip off Dr. Parker. Also, he met “The Demon” and she can’t help him with jack, so I don’t think he’s highly motivated to blow his cover for Talia. Finally, Oliver isn’t convinced Dr. Parker is doing anything horrible yet. He’s not buying what Dr. Parker is selling, but Oliver still believes he is trying to reform prisoners. What’s wrong with that?

A lot if you try to kill them. When Oliver sees the dead body of the inmate who attempted to murder him in the shower fight, things start to look more alarming on Level 2. Talia is surprised Oliver cares about a man who tried to kill him, but he argues whatever is happening behind the creepy and nondescript door isn’t right. Talia is the one who told Oliver to help others and fight for justice, which is all he’s trying to do now.

This is an extremely important development for Oliver. Helping criminals has never been the Green Arrow’s modus operandi. Since Green Arrow is the warmer and fuzzier version of The Hood and The Arrow, you can trust neither of those identities were invested in helping criminals either. In fact, the Green Arrow put most of the criminals in Slabside. Oliver never thought much about why someone became a criminal and he never thought of them again after they were locked up. Of course, the locked up criminals are the lucky ones. There are many who never made it to jail. They went straight to a graveyard.

Oliver’s policy on killing is fluid, ever evolving and occasionally flip flopping, much to my frustration most of the time. Let’s review:

Season 1: Killing

Season 2: Not killing (except for The Count)

Season 3: Not killing (except for attempting to kill Ra’s Al Ghul on the mountain because Felicity said it was okay and ultimately killing Ra’s Al Ghul in the season finale)

Season 4: Not killing (except for Damien Darhk because he killed Laurel)

Season 5: Killing (except for Adrian Chase because that would’ve proved his point)

Season 6: Not killing (he never caught Diaz so the jury is still out on how Oliver plans to deal with him, but I am thinking jail)

Looking at this it’s fair to say Oliver doesn’t have a hard and fast rule when it comes to killing. He operated from a kill or be killed perspective in Season 1 and Season 5.

His “no killing” rule was set aside anytime the Big Bad was perceived as a large enough threat or for retribution in Season 3 and Season 4.

The whole point of having a moral code is to stick to it. If Oliver is prepared to deep six his code whenever it’s inconvenient or difficult to hold to then it’s not really a code. Hence, the reason I’ve been coming down on him so hard about this for the last seven years.

I believe all human life has value and therefore we cannot kill another human being. Of course, war or acting in self defense is a different story, but my overall stance on killing is a big, fat NO. However, I’m not losing any sleep over any of the people Oliver Queen has killed. These villains are awful, they did horrific things, and deserved to get got. We can even make the argument the world is a better place without these people in it.

However, simply because someone deserves to die doesn’t mean he/she should. Oliver doesn’t get to be judge, jury, and executioner simply because he wears a mask. He may catch criminals outside of the law, but Oliver is not above the law. His killing is a strong argument against vigilantism and Oliver has been striving to be a better hero for several years now.

This isn’t entirely Oliver’s fault. For some reason, the writers are determined to box him into an either or choice. Either the criminal goes free or you kill him. I’ve been screaming, “WHAT ABOUT JAIL?” for the last seven years because guess what? We have a way of keeping society safe without killing the criminal.

Is it a perfect system? Of course not, but no system is. Not allowing Oliver to avail himself of this option while Barry Allen gets to have his very own meta prison seems a little unfair.

Yes, men like Ra’s Al Ghul and even Damien Darhk may too much to handle even for Slabside, but Oliver had his very own A.R.G.U.S. prison on Lian Yu that he never used, except for Slade Wilson and the Boomerang guy.

Why? Because that’s Arrow and sometimes Arrow is dumb. They want to Oliver constantly deciding whether the villain lives or dies because it’s one way they mark his superhero evolution.

I was particularly hard on Oliver regarding Damien Darhk. Not because I believed Darhk deserves to live – he nuked an entire city. However, Oliver killed Darhk because he killed Laurel. Damien was unarmed and de-magicked. Oliver easily could have handed him over to the authorities. Instead, he drove an arrow through him on live television. Thus, creating many of the legal problems Oliver faced in Season 6 and Season 7.

And that’s the point. Killing doesn’t erase consequences. It creates them. Yes, maybe the villain escapes prison and more lives are lost. Maybe the justice system won’t work. Although are we really worried the legal system won’t punish perpetrators of mass genocide? No. Probably not.

Killing Ra’s Al Ghul ignited a rage in Talia. She sided with Adrian and played a role in Samantha’s death. If you want to know how Damien Darhk’s daughter turns out flip on Legends. It ain’t pretty.

Retribution begets retribution. This is the lesson Adrian Chase taught Oliver and so he began to view killing a different way in Season 6.

It’s why Oliver tried to catch Diaz and not kill him.

Oliver: These people are being treated like they are disposable. No one deserves that.

Oliver’s always evolving morality is taking a very important step. He is feeling empathy for the very murderers he helped locked away. Oliver believes these people deserve basic decency despite the horrible crimes they committed. He is beginning to see the criminals’ humanity.

Why is this important? Oliver’s “destiny” is to become the Green Arrow – a fully evolved superhero. Superheroes typically don’t kill. These characters, for the lack of a better word, are Christ like figures. Superheroes have integrity, determination, love, compassion, honesty and honor beyond the regular, everyday person. They are capable of things most people could never dream of doing. It’s why they inspire us. They challenge us to be better because they are better. It’s what makes them superheroes.

This is where Oliver is headed. His morality has to be beyond reproach. Superheroes don’t lie, cheat or kill. Oliver has worked very hard at fixing these problem areas in his life for the last ten years. Is he perfect? No, not even a superhero is perfect. He/She is pretty close though, which is hopefully where Oliver’s origin story ends.

Maybe you or I can’t feel empathy for a criminal, but Oliver Queen is called to be better than us. He will draw the line in the sand, so it’s important he doesn’t cross it. The Green Arrow will be the example Star City will look to, so his moral code better be unbreakable.

This means NO KILLING. Not even when the villain deserves it. Not even when Oliver has the moral high ground. Not even when Oliver deserves revenge. Not even when it may protect the city.

There will always be unforeseen consequences to killing, but the real reason Oliver shouldn’t kill is because every life has value. Oliver can understand and even empathize with some of these people now that he is considered a “criminal” too and has spent so much time with them. It will be very difficult for Oliver to kill a villain when he can see their humanity. It doesn’t mean they deserve freedom, but they don’t automatically deserve death either. There’s a middle ground here. If Arrow will finally allow the Green Arrow to avail himself of the prison system, then he can be a better example to the city.

Talia isn’t impressed with Oliver’s new found empathy for criminals, because he did not show it to her father when it mattered. Yeah, well your father tried to poison an entire city cutie, but that’s just details.

Oliver: No because I back then I still allowed the monster that you unleashed to take over.

This is how we know Oliver is faking with Dr. Parker. You can call it whatever you want – Oliver’s monster, darkness, demons, etc. The name doesn’t matter. Oliver has evolved beyond it. The rage he feels no longer controls him. He faced his “monster” in Season 5 and learned to control it in Season 6. He’s already dealt with all of these issues.

Oliver: Ra’s death was my fault. I couldn’t see past what he intended to do to my city, so I didn’t stop and think about his family, and for that, I am truly sorry.

I could argue Oliver deserves prison. Technically, he is a murderer and not all of his “kills” were done in self defense.

He acknowledges there was another way with Ra’s Al Ghul, but he didn’t take it. Talia is one of those unforeseen consequences to that decision and Oliver is truly sorry for the pain he caused her.

If you believe Oliver deserves redemption for some of those calls then apologizing to who he hurt is an important part of the process. It’s no different than Bl*ck S*ren. Is an apology enough? No, but Oliver has also spent six months locked away from his wife and child. He’s been beaten, tortured, psychologically lobotomized, and almost killed. (Also, I raise my “Ra’s Al Ghul committed mass genocide” flag again.) We’re not dealing with apples to apples here, but in the cosmic scale I think Oliver Queen comes out just fine.

Oliver and Talia fight their way into “the room” to take on Dr. Parker.

Source: @olivergifs

We get some extremely excellent fight scenes.I am so happy we are back to the days of Oliver taking down 50 bad guys by himself or with someone who actually knows how to fight.

Now it’s Oliver’s turn to drop some truths on Dr. Parker.

Oliver: My father pushed people away. He kept secrets, and I made those same mistakes. But if I choose to break the cycle, I’m gonna do it my way.

Source: olivergifs

MY SON IS SO GROWN!!!!!!

Oliver yelling his name in his growly voice will always be awesome. I am thrilled any time Oliver can achieve insights into himself and his father. It’s not the cycle of violence he needs to break. If he’s going to be the Green Arrow and Oliver Queen (and yes that’s where this is headed) then there’s going to be some violence. Oliver can tweak how much violence he’s going to engage in though.

What’s really important is breaking the cycle of lies and walls. Oliver cuts himself off from those he loves just like Robert Queen did. He has grown so much over the past seven years, and his sacrifice was so selfless, but he still lied to Felicity about prison. He made the decision without her. Every time Oliver lies and pushes people away he hurts those he loves and himself.

The monster no longer has power in Oliver’s life because he’s embraced love. Every time he chooses an unrighteous path it’s an opportunity for the monster to regain control. Every step away from the light is a step towards darkness. Being a good man is not limited to wearing a mask. He must be a good man as Oliver Queen and as the Green Arrow.

Source: @olivergifs

SEVEN YEARS Y’ALL!!!!!!!!!!! I HAVE WAITED FOR OLIVER QUEEN TO COME TO THIS CONCLUSION FOR SEVEN YEARS!!!!!!!!!

Season after season, review after review, waiting, watching and hoping for him to finally understand man and mask must be one. I am legit screaming. SCREAMING.

This was the light bulb I’ve been waiting to go off in his head. THIS MOMENT WAS EARNED! And worth the wait.

Oliver gives Talia the USB with the evidence they gathered to give to Felicity. He refuses to leave the prison because then he’d be a fugitive for the rest of his life. #OliverQueenPuttingHisFamilyFirstAlways.

Source: smoakmonster

Trust me, Talia. She knows.

Oliver returns to Level One and is reunited with his prison wife Stan, who quickly informs him his real wife came for a visit.

Every time Oliver hears Felicity’s name I swear to God his heart stops.

My heart broke for Oliver when he realizes he missed a precious visit with Felicity. He must have noticed she hasn’t visited as often as she could. (More on that in a minute).

Source: oliverfelicitygifs

Stan tells Oliver that Felicity has a beat on Diaz and he’s not exactly thrilled. Oliver absolutely did not want Felicity going after Diaz and it’s clear he’s scared to death she’ll be hurt. He has no way of protecting or stopping her, which is exactly the point. Oliver doesn’t get to decide this time. He has to simply wait and see. Whatever is going to happen will happen. It’ll be interesting when these two are reunited because there are issues.

Oliver has retained his light inside of Slabside, he’s developed more empathy towards the people he’s fighting against, and he understands he can no longer separate his two identities. If Oliver is in need of redemption (particularly with Felicity) then I say he’s learned the necessary lessons to achieve it. It may be difficult for a time, but Oliver and Felicity will work through their problems once they are together again. In no small part because Oliver Queen is ready to be the man Felicity Smoak deserves and the hero Star City needs.

Source: smoakmonster

Felicity Smoak

I am falling in love with Felicity Smoak and Bl*ck S*ren. Nobody is more shocked than me. I don’t know what to tell ya.

They make the perfect odd couple. Felicity is sunshine and roses while Bl*ck S*ren is a snarky (reformed?) murderer. There are some similarities to Oliver and Felicity or Laurel and Tommy, which is probably one of the reasons I am enjoying it so much. Light meets dark. Funny meets serious.

Source: hollandrooden

The sass and banter is funny and honest. Neither is worried about hurting the other’s feelings because they aren’t really friends. It allows the characters to say things to each other Felicity and our L*urel would never say. It also makes the development of whatever potential friendship they may have in the future feel natural.

Source: dinah-lance

Whereas with L*urel, I feel her friendship with Felicity was rushed and didn’t develop organically. We went from L*urel glowering and not speaking to Felicity to immediately “favor friends” inside of a single episode.

HUH?

It was also a little weird how they never talked about the Oliver shaped elephant in the room too, but whatever that’s all past. None of this is a problem with Bl*ck S*ren and F*licity. In fact, all the things I asked for with L*urel L*nce I am actually getting with Bl*ck S*ren.

The writers are giving Bl*ck S*ren screen time to develop at a semi reasonable pace, the lawyer thing notwithstanding.

The other characters aren’t pretending she’s a saint or glazing over her mistakes. Bl*ck S*ren is being held responsible for the things she’s done wrong.

Felicity (and Oliver) have no problem taking shots at Bl*ck S*ren occasionally, because they don’t trust her and she deserves them.

Bl*ck S*ren fires back (hilariously I might add) and is rapidly becoming the Spike to Team Arrow’s Scooby Gang - something I think the show needs.

Bl*ck S*ren is lawyering more than Laurel ever lawyered even though she’s not a laywer, which is hilariously amazing in an off kilter sort of way.

Most importantly, she’s helping Felicity in a way that’s actually helpful!

If Bl*ck S*ren helps get Oliver out of prison and then my faves have all the sex, Imma gonna bake her cake or something. Anyone assisting Felicity this season gets an A+ and a gold star from me and Bl*ck S*ren is at the top of that list.

Listen, nobody is as shocked as me since I was loudly advocating for BS to remain evil. I still like her evil and will be fine if she regresses. However, if they are going to have a L*urel type character on this show then I want the writers to use her effectively. Thus far, they are with Bl*ck S*ren. It may all go to hell in a hand basket shortly, but for now leave me to my joy.

Source: felicitysmoakgifs

The best scene was BS asking Felicity out on a friend date. It was almost as cute as Oliver asking Felicity out. It was really sweet to see the part of BS that craves human connection reaching out to Felicity in such an adorably awkward way.

Alright, that’s enough about Bl*ck S*ren. Time to talk about our girl. Did anyone notice Felicity seems reluctant to visit Oliver?

Source: smoakmonster

Bl*ck S*ren tells Felicity to visit her husband and essentially kicks her out of the office. Welcome the Olicity ship BS! The bar is in the back.

Her reluctance is very telling. Felicity is feeling bad about her last visit with Oliver. Girl, why? You’re fine. The man has lessons to learn.

Unfortunately, Felicity is denied access to Oliver when she arrives. Felicity demands to see Oliver and think she uses “wife” and “husband” about twenty times in a sentence. Remember when we held our breath for one “wife” or “husband” last season? Now they use it with reckless abandon. It’s fabulous.

I have been dying for Felicity to meet Stan and yet I had no idea how Arrow would logically put these two characters together. I know logic isn’t always Arrow’s thing, but it’s not like Felicity can run into Stan and Oliver having dinner together. Turns out, this is not that hard!

Stan lets Felicity know Oliver has been moved to Level 2. I will always be eternally grateful to Stan for telling Felicity the photograph has become Oliver’s binky.

I guess I was a little surprised at Felicity’s shock over Oliver stabbing a guard. She’s very “He would never!” about it whereas I am more “Sounds right. He broke a dude’s neck once.” Yes, that was during Oliver’s pre-Felicity days, but he’d burn down Slabside if it means protecting her and William. Her whole “Oliver is a choir boy” reaction rang false to me because Oliver is not a choir boy.

The first person Felicity runs to for help is BL*CK S*REN. We are living in the Upside Down.

Source: dinah-lance

How much did you love Bl*ck S*ren yelling and threatening so Oliver and Felicity can visit each other? C’mere girl. Sit next to me. I made you a margarita.

Felicity confirms she’s only been there ONCE, and granted she was in witness protection for most of Oliver’s incarceration, but yeesh. It has to sting a little for Oliver that she hasn’t been back since. Don’t lie and make unilateral decisions next time, big fella.

Felicity would visit in sexy lingerie and bring store bought baked goods if you just LOOP HER IN.

Source: felicitysmoakgifs

Bl*ck S*ren and Felicity go to Dinah to get information on Slabside’s Level 2, since there are no digital records.

Source: oliverfelicitygifs

Dinah hems and haws about helping Felicity, and she pretty much has to beg, which ticks me off to no end. You are part of the reason Oliver is in prison, Dinah. MOVE YOUR ASS. If Felicity wants to access to the evidence room you should be making her a copy of the key so she can come and go as she pleases. #NewbiesStopPissingMeOff2018

The records are a mess.

Source: dinah-lance

Dinah and BS spend a lot of time arguing about which legal method is best to help Felicity, but to be frank both their ideas suck and take too much time. Felicity kind of loses it.

Source: oliverxfelicity

She’s feeling an immense amount of guilt for being angry with Oliver over his decision to go to prison and not visiting. In typical Felicity fashion, she blames herself for whatever Oliver is going through. She believes she could have prevented it.

Source: oliverfelicitygifs

Felicity Smoak breaks my heart. Listen sweetie, Oliver is a big, dumb oak tree A LOT. It’s okay to get mad at him sometimes. This man is a full time project. He’s exhausting.

If anyone is concerned about Felicity and Oliver’s marriage then this speech should tell you everything you need to know. Being mad at your partner does not automatically mean you don’t want to be with your partner. Marriage doesn’t work like that. For better or for worse is legit. You can be so angry with your spouse you want to throttle them and yet still love them more than anything else on this earth.

Felicity can be mad at Oliver and still be madly in love with him. What Oliver did is no little thing. He made a massive and unilateral decision for their entire family without consulting Felicity. She has to live with the consequences, but had no say in her own life.

We’ve seen time and again when Felicity is angry with Oliver she needs time and space to process those emotions. Felicity needs to work through her feelings before she can work through the problem with Oliver. It doesn’t mean she wants to end their relationship.

While she’s been looking for Diaz and processing her anger, Oliver has been going to extremes in his battle to track Diaz too. Unfortunately, now he’s missing.

This all hits Felicity where it hurts because her worst fear is losing Oliver. She thought losing her husband was bad enough, but now Felicity is scared Dr. Power’s mind warp program will take Oliver from her forever.

Source: oliverfelicitygifs

I just want to hug Felicity and tell her she doesn’t have to worry about Oliver’s mind being erased.

He dealt with all his deep and dark issues in the sewer with her. Felicity loved him through it and that’s the reason Oliver has remained intact on this new island. UGH. MY BABES.

Oliver and Felicity have remained connected despite their physical separation, but the distance is having an impact on them. They are starting to feel the consequences of time, distance, hurt feelings, and lack of communication. ENOUGH ALREADY! LET THEM BE TOGETHER! I WANT IT TO STOOOOOP!

Long story short, Felicity discovers Dr. Powers is going to erase Oliver’s mind and finds evidence connecting him to a cold case murder. That, along with Oliver’s evidence, is enough to get the Level 2 program shut down. It makes me a little sad Felicity doesn’t know the evidence is from Oliver. TALIA YOU HAD ONE JOB.

Source: felicitysmoakgifs

Team Felicity, yes that’s the name, has such a fantastic light bulb moment when they realize they can use this Slabside evidence to appeal Oliver’s conviction. I don’t know how. I’m not a lawyer. I don’t know how Oliver was convicted in the first place because he was acquitted. How is he legally in prison? Whatever. I don’t care. Just get him out and send him home to his woman. That’s all I want. I’ve enjoyed the prison arc more than I anticipated, but I’m ready to be done.

Curtis and Diggle

Lord people. I cannot with Curtis. His undercover mission takes up a significant chunk of the episode and this is how much I care:

Fourteen PhDs???? FOURTEEN!!!!!!!??????

I am trying to hang with you show, and I realize you are a fantasy drama, but this is not humanely possible. Also, I am taking issue with Diggle reading out Curtis’ credentials when just last week Felicity tipped her hat to her credentials. She mentions going to MIT and then next week we are listing Curtis’ ridiculous number of PhDs and six languages?!

It feels like a bizarre pissing contest and yet these writers want me to believe this character is not in competition with Felicity.

Cammien Ray tweeted something brilliant yesterday and I thought it really summed up one of my primarily beefs with Curtis and Diggle having this storyline. This is everything we asked for Felicity, but they gave it to Curtis.

Felicity is off doing her own hero-ing and therefore the writing team’s ass is saved, but this character is in constant competition with Felicity. More often than not, Curtis over shadows Felicity so he has a friggin purpose on this show. Arrow is an extremely male dominated series. We don’t need one of few strong female characters sidelined for another male character’s benefit.

Curtis bemoans all of the misery being a vigilante has brought into his life. Yes, Curtis has suffered the most out of all the characters.

Oliver lost his freedom, Felicity lost her husband and child and Dinah’s boyfriend is dead. Hell, even Rene has more to bitch about. Zoe’s life was in danger for most of Season 6. BL*CK S*REN has more to be upset about. Her boyfriend, father and pseudo father figure are all dead.

But Curtis? He got a divorce. Sure, that’s sad, but his ex husband isn’t dead. Curtis is probably paying him alimony.

Curtis was stabbed, his boyfriend shot, THEY BOTH SURVIVED, but woe is me.

Diggle has the audacity to compare Curtis to soldiers who have fought in war.

We are not comparing Curtis and his T balls to men serving in the military. The reason why Curtis doesn’t look “done” when compared to those soldiers, John is because HE HAS NOT FOUGHT IN A FUCKING WAR OR SUFFERED ANYWHERE NEAR THE AMOUNT THOSE HEROES HAVE.

Both of you please shut up.

I couldn’t understand why Diggle was arguing for Curtis to remain Mr. Terrific when he’s given up on Spartan and Green Arrow. This is the second character IN A ROW Diggle has argued to break the rules and continue life as a vigilante. Whereas when it comes to Felicity she can’t be Overwatch or break any laws to free her husband.

I also don’t understand why Diggle is arguing Curtis is so vital to the team when the truth is there are other characters that can do what he does and BETTER. Rene and Dinah are better fighters than him. This is the first week he looked mildly proficient in the field. This is why I say he’s the new LL. One week he can’t take down one bad guy, but the next he’s fighting twenty different people. It’s inconsistent and illogical.

Felicity is a genius and all the tech goddess we need.

Anytime they use Curtis’ brilliant mind it’s to short change her. NO THANKS. The only thing Curtis brings to the table is his T spheres and pretty much everyone can operate them. I am quite annoyed with Diggle for trying to talk Curtis out of sidelining himself.

Arrow continues to glaze over Curtis’ role in Oliver ending up in prison, there’s been no apology and he refuses to help Felicity. Instead, they write an episode where Curtis is given all the storylines we’ve asked for Felicity. Then Curtis whines about how tough life is when the other characters he refuses to help are suffering more. This is not the way to win me over. USE THIS CHARACTER LESS. He needs to disappear from my TV screen for a long time or, God willing, permanently. The more this show shoves this character down my throat the more I dislike him and I have a sensitive gag reflex.

Stray Thoughts

“Empathy’s a word I’m learning. It’s a work in progress” HA! Loved this line.

I know neither Dinah nor BS are Felicity’s besties, but it was nice having all the women work together in an episode. It also gave Felicity a chance to unload some of her grief and fears. Can we make this a regular thing? Felicity needs girlfriends.

“I taught you to separate the man from the monster. Instead, you exposed your true identity for all the world to see and became the monster you always feared you were.” Bitch where?

Talia teaching Oliver to separate his two selves ultimately lead to her father’s death, so there are consequences for her choices too.

Felicity changes out of her high heels and skirt into jeans and tennis shoes for her visit with Oliver. The practicality in Felicity’s wardrobe this year is A+, so let’s keep the logic. Nobody drives to a prison in heels and she sure as hell shouldn’t wear them out in the field.

Oliver’s face when he finds out there’s no visitation in Level 2 looks like he was just told his puppy has cancer. Source: olivergifs

You have not met Felicity “I Will Always Always Always Wait For You” Smoak. Suck a hot one, guard. Source: olivergifs

Why are the A.R.G.U.S. uniforms so dorky? Let’s cool them up costume department.

I need Stan to be good. Can we just let Stan be good?

Stephen Amell is 6 ft so the inmate who died is ENORMOUS.

Don’t you love how there’s been zero Diaz in any of these past few episodes? He’s just like the Boogey Man, but we never have to see him. It’s fantastic.

I don’t buy for a second Diaz took out a bunch of Bratva, but my larger concern is don’t hurt my Anatoly.

No flashbacks. Interesting.

That Elseworld promo was jarring. I’m scarred for life.

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#arrow #arrow 7x05 #oliver queen #felicity smoak #olicity #arrow season 7 reviews #anti black siren #anti john diggle #anti laurel lance #anti dinah drake #arrow season 7 episode reviews #season 7 episode review

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pickalilywrites · 7 years ago

Text

♡

Real Beauty

Jeankasa. Celebrity AU.

6412 words.

He’s always unsure whether if it’s good or bad news when he’s told to come into Mr. Smith’s office. While Jean’s sure his work is decent enough to prevent him from getting let go (or, you know, fired) from the company, there’s always something about the CEO’s office that makes him uncertain. The last time he had been called up it had been about his debut as the head photographer for Sina, the biggest beauty and lifestyle magazine in the entertainment business. He had received a pat on the back for his work and a rare smile from the enigmatic Mr. Smith, but that had been months ago and Jean’s not sure if his boss holds him in such high regard now.

“Sir? It’s Jean Kirstein from photography,” Jean says, knocking on the door with a quick rap of his knuckles.

The room is beautiful in an untouchably perfect way. Jean’s afraid of even breathing in here, but Mr. Smith tells him to come in and sit down across his desk.

Mr. Smith flips through an old edition of Sina, an unfathomable expression on his face. As Jean watches him, he thinks that it’s a shame that his boss had never become a model or some other sort of Hollywood star at some point in his life. He has the air of an old Hollywood god, someone who knew everyone and everything that went on in the entertainment business, and perhaps it’s because he does. Mr. Smith has an impeccable eye for what people want to see even before it’s a faint idea in their mind, and Jean admires him for it. At the same time, it scares the absolute shit out of him and he’s not sure how much longer he can sit in the same room as his boss before he cracks under the stress of not knowing.

“You said you wanted to see me, sir,” Jean says, resisting the urge to tug nervously at his sleeves.

Mr. Smith finally looks up as if he’s remembered that Jean is also in the room. He doesn’t look pleased, but he doesn’t look unhappy either. Instead, he closes the magazine he was reading and slides it across his desk so that Jean can see it.

“Do you know what that is?” he asks Jean.

Swallowing nervously, Jean leans over to look at the cover. A beautiful blonde starlet stares back at him, an infectious smile on her face as she gazes at the reader. He remembers seeing pictures of the same girl, her eyes dead and her face in a permanent frown. It was only after she had rejected her stage name Christa, the one she had since she was a child, and reinvented herself into her true self that she was able to smile like this. Everyone had believed she was going to flop after making her debut as a singer, tossing away her acting career as if it was nothing, but even Jean noticed that her smiles were more authentic in her paparazzi photos and her actions more genuine instead of planned and fabricated like they were when she was just an actress. He had been surprised when Mr. Smith called him in to take pictures for this girl in Sina’s next edition. He was even more surprised when he meets the girl as she extends her hand and introduces herself as Historia. Her smile was even more brilliant in person and it was during that first meeting that Jean knew she was going to be an even bigger star than she already was, and he was right.

Her first album sold one million physical copies within its first week, a feat that’s unheard of in this day and age. She’s currently going on her stadium tour and, the last time Jean checked, nearly all of the venues had sold out. Historia had sent him flowers just the other week to thank him for working with her on the Sina shoot, writing on the note that she couldn’t have gotten this sort of recognition without him. Jean’s never thought that his photos could ever make such an impact and he’s half sure that most of Historia’s success comes from her own hard work and talent, but he’s happy to be remembered by someone like her.

Clearing his throat, Jean replies, “Of course. Historia Reiss. My first piece as the head photographer. How could I forget? She was wonderful to work with.”

“Hm.” He’s never sure with Mr. Smith’s answers. Sometimes he’d rather have a negative response instead of all the ambiguously neutral reactions he’s received. “Many people were impressed with it, myself included. But one person in particular called and said they were interested in working with you after seeing Historia’s photos. An Ackerman. Mikasa Ackerman, to be precise. You know her, of course?”

Is there anyone who hasn’t heard the name “Ackerman” sometime in their life? The Ackerman family is a family of every type of celebrity anyone could ever imagine – models, singers, songwriters, actors, you name it. They were a big name when Jean was a child and they still are now. He’s sure stars were invented when the Ackerman family came into existence, but they’ve dimmed since their ascension. After multiple scandals – stories about cheating, lies, drugs, all the bad things that came with being a celebrity – began to plague them and the family began to fade out, disappearing from the public and only reminisced by older stars and fans like they were legends instead of people who were still living and breathing today.

One of the Ackermans is a girl named Mikasa, a rising starlet that was a model-turned-actress. Jean remembered many people admiring her beauty and quiet nature before they all turned on her unexpectedly for becoming involved with another star: Eren Jaeger, lead singer of band Wings of Freedom. Jean can’t recall if they were ever really involved or not, but he remembers the backlash she received from fans on social media. All her accounts were bombarded with messages harassing her to leave the musician alone, that she was no good for him, that she was a dirty slut for even thinking she could get near him.

That wasn’t even the worst of it though. It seemed to get worse every day. Despite being critically acclaimed in the few roles she had in movies, people would find a reason to despise her.

There were fake nudes leaked of her, accusations of incest with her cousin who happened to be another popular celebrity, and even death threats targeted at her and her family. The media was no better either, poking and prodding her for details about every scandalous affair she was accused of despite her obvious discomfort about talking about such topics. The paparazzi and news media outlets, hungry for anything that had to do with her, would chase her down, invading her privacy just to take a photo of her no matter how crappy it turned out. It was no wonder that she began to disappear from the media along with the rest of her family. There were jokes about her falling off the face of the earth, and sometimes Jean believed she might never have existed at all. But it seems she is still here.

“I know of her,” Jean says instead. He might know many things about her, but he can never say he knows her. He’s sure many of the rumors that swirl about her are fake anyhow.

Mr. Smith sits back in his chair, his fingers steepled. “She says she’s considering coming back into the spotlight after her long hiatus. She read Miss Reiss’ article in our magazine when it came out and said she enjoyed your work,” he tells Jean. “She thinks you’re talented, that you can capture a person’s true essence with your camera. Your work, she said, is ‘beautiful.’”

Beautiful. Jean mouths the word, not quite believing that Mikasa Ackerman had used it to describe his photos. He clears his throat. “And this is her first magazine interview since her hiatus?”

“Correct,” Mr. Smith says. There’s a rare smile on his face again. “It would be foolish of us not to work with her, especially since she’s the one who came to us. Wouldn’t you think so, Mr. Kirstein?”

“Absolutely, I’d love to work with her!” Jean says immediately. One would be a fool to disagree with Mr. Smith. There’s a reason why he’s been in this business for so long. “I won’t disappoint you, sir.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” Mr. Smith says, but he goes back to the paperwork on his desk, not even bothering to send Jean out on his way.

Jean mumbles a clumsy goodbye that he’s sure his boss doesn’t hear, scurrying out of the office as quickly as possible. It’s silly, but he breathes more easily once he’s out of that room.

Once he gets back into his own office, he scrolls through the internet for pictures of Mikasa Ackerman. As he remembers, she’s beautiful. It’s a shame that the world demanded that she hide herself away.

He’s a bundle of nerves the day of the shoot. He doesn’t know what to expect. In interviews and talk shows, Mikasa had always been very reserved, a perfect lady, but there are stars that act differently behind the scenes. He’s tried contacting other beauticians and photographers that worked with her in the past, but they don’t really say much about her besides the fact that she’s stunningly beautiful as if he can’t already see that for himself. It also doesn’t help that she’s flown under the radar for the past couple of years. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised though. She had wanted to disappear, and she had done a successful job of it.

He stumbles into the room, disgruntled because he didn’t get the chance to talk to the hairdresser or makeup artist that worked on Miss Ackerman. They had merely rushed into his room, told him that Mikasa was ready for him, and disappeared. He had tried calling their name, running after them, but they had told him that she wasn’t anything special and that he would probably need luck to get anything out of her because she sure as hell isn’t sociable.

So he pastes on his professional smile and gets ready to be as civil as he can be. He prepares himself for stilted conversations with a brick wall, but once he sets eyes on her, he forgets everything.

Mikasa Ackerman, one of the mysterious Hollywood legends that disappeared out of the blue, is suddenly there in his studio and she looks magnificent in this brilliant red dress with its billowing layers of skirts and sparkles that Jean would think too extravagant on anyone else, but it looks perfect on her. When she hears his footsteps coming towards him, she looks at him with a cautious expression, a little lost and a little confused as if she doesn’t know how she arrived in such a place, but she gets up, holding onto her skirts, and walks to him. No, she doesn’t walk. It’s like she’s floating all the way towards him, gliding across the floor to him, and she extends a hand out to him. Her hand is so white and pretty that he thinks it must be made of porcelain, but her grip tells him that she’s made of something much stronger.

“You’re Jean Kirstein?” she asks, looking up at him through her thick black lashes. Her gray eyes aren’t cold; they’re cool, careful, cautious, and it makes him wonder why she had come in the first place. “Your piece with Historia…it was very beautiful. I spoke with her after I saw that issue and she told me that you have a natural eye for beautiful things.”

It doesn’t seem quite real, him talking to her like this. He’s surprised that her voice is so soft, delicate, and can’t believe that she’s said his name with those lips. When he had begun working at Sina, he had understood that there’d be a chance he’d speak with big celebrities, but Mikasa Ackerman isn’t like any of the actresses or Hollywood stars he’s met. She’s ethereal, some type of heavenly entity than one from this world.

He manages to stammer, “Thank you, Miss Ackerman. It’s an honor to work with you.”

She flashes him a wary smile, one he recognizes. It’s so different from the one she wore early in her career – beautiful, vibrant, genuine. This one is brief, forced, and polite. It’s the smile he’s seen in all the photos she’s been in before she completely disappeared, and he wonders if she even remembers the last time she smiled, really smiled.

Realizing that he’s been shaking her hand for a while, Jean clears his throat and guides her to the set where the lights are blinding. He hovers around her nervously, not quite sure how to speak with her. “This is where we’ll be working today. I’ll be taking a couple of shots – it’ll probably last until late this afternoon depending on whether or not you like the photos – but I understand you want this done in a day –“

“Will I have to look at the camera?” she asks him suddenly. Her eyes are cast downward, avoiding the bright light. Gone is the smile and it has been replaced with a frown. It worries him for a second before he sees that it is not one of displeasure, but one filled with worry. He’s sure that she’s done many shoots like this in the past, but perhaps she’s forgotten what they were like or she had never gotten used to them because she’s chewing so nervously on her lip that he’s afraid she’ll ruin her lipstick. “I know it’s strange but…would it be alright if I didn’t look at the camera?”

He’s about to open his mouth, confused and wanting to ask her why she would agree to a photo shoot even though she was unwilling to look at the camera, but he realizes the question is insensitive.

She’s been surrounded by cameras her entire life. Before she had even stepped foot on the red carpet, made her debut as a star, before she could even walk, she had been followed and harassed by the media and paparazzi. She’s been stared at and hunted down like a rare animal. She’s probably had enough of cameras and the spotlight to last the rest of her life. She might be returning to that life, but he can see that she’s reluctant to do so, so he might as well make it as easy as possible for her.

“No, not at all,” he finally says. He looks at her again, already thinking about how he wants to position her for this particular shot, and stumbles backward towards his camera, nearly stumbling over a wire lying on the ground because he isn’t looking. He sees that Mikasa Ackerman is looking at him, startled, but he waves his hand to tell her that he’s fine. “It’s alright. I do that all the time. Just sit down on that white box over there and we’ll get started.”

“Okay,” she says hesitantly, but she does what she’s told. The way she sits on the white box is stiff, more like she’s a robot than an actual human being. He remembers this too from the last photoshoots she’s done – her blank stare at the camera, her empty smile, her mechanical poses. She wears that same fake smile that she had when she first greeted him, and he wonders if he’ll even be able to get one photo of her smiling genuinely.

He remembers not to frown. If this is difficult for her, he doesn’t want to agitate her any further by pointing out things she’s doing wrong. It’s not as if she’s doing this on purpose, he’s sure. So he looks up from the lens and tells her, “If you don’t want to smile, don’t. You don’t even have to face the camera if you don’t want to.”

“Won’t that be strange?” she asks, but she turns away from the camera, looking to the right where the interns are flitting about to grab donuts and coffee and other things that the beauticians and makeup artists on standby are demanding.

“Not at all,” he replies, returning to look at her through the lens.

She doesn’t look as mechanical as she did when she had first sat down. It was probably the fault of the camera all along. He doesn’t blame her. His looks particularly intimidating, all black with his large lens and loud shutter noise. Looking away seems to ease her nerves somewhat though, and he hopes that he’ll be able to capture her more natural expressions before the shoot ends.

“What’d you do during your time off, Miss Ackerman?” he asks, still looking through the lens. He’s probably not the best conversationalist around – and he gets the feeling that Mikasa doesn’t talk very much either – but he doesn’t know how else to get her to become more comfortable. “Did you travel anywhere? Perhaps take up a hobby like scuba diving or hiking?”

She doesn’t answer for a while, perhaps surprised that he’s trying to strike up a conversation with her. At first, he’s afraid that she’ll just ignore him, not wanting to talk to him at all, but she finally replies, “I went to Europe with my cousin for a bit. It was very beautiful although the weather was dreary. I traveled to Japan as well to visit family members and stayed there for quite a while. The atmosphere there can be quite peaceful, and it made me feel at home.”

Talking seems to be working, so Jean decides to forget about his shoot, wanting to talk to her enough so that she feels comfortable taking pictures. Maybe he won’t get her to look at the camera, but perhaps he’ll get shots where she’s more relaxed and willing. Leaning against the camera, something he’s not supposed to do because the equipment is expensive but something he does anyway because the tripod it balances on is rather sturdy, Jean asks, “Japan, huh? I’ve never been there before, but I hear it’s beautiful in the spring. Do your folks live in the countryside?”

“They live in the Kyoto Prefecture,” Mikasa answers. She looks as if she’s remembering something pleasant. It’s not quite a smile on her face, but it’s a hint of one. “It’s magnificent in the spring when the cherry blossoms bloom. You should go visit if you ever have the time. If not Kyoto, then perhaps some other place in Japan. Tokyo or Osaka, maybe.”

“Maybe,” laughs Jean. Ah, if his work schedule ever allowed for it, although he could look into working for one of Sina’s other divisions if he really wanted a change of setting. “Would I like the food there?”

She sits still as a statue, and he thinks now would be a good time to snap a photo, but he doesn’t want her to stop talking. She’s lifted one of her eyebrows up. “Are you a picky eater?”

“A bit,” he admits, a sheepish grin on his face. “Is that bad?”

She shrugs. “There’s quite a bit of seafood, but there’s a lot of other things too. I’m sure you’ll be fine if you ever decide to go. I think you’d like it there since you like beautiful things.”

There’s the smile that he’s been looking for – an incomplete smile but the closest he’s gotten so far to her real smile. It’s similar to her old one – the bright and smiling one that she had when she had first started out before the world began to turn on her. Did she manage to find it after all this time?

He wants to run to his camera right now and snap the photo quickly before it disappears, but he finds that his finger hovers just above the button. It stays there for a while, but he finds he cannot bring himself to take the picture.

Lifting his head once more from the lens, he asks, “Would it be alright if I took the picture now? You can just stay as you are – you don’t even have to move – and I could just take it if, er, that would be fine with you.”

Mikasa stays there, unmoving, before finally saying, “Please take the photo then.”

He’s afraid that her smile would have faltered by the time the shutter clicks, but he reviews the photo and it’s still there. He can’t quite believe it – how perfectly her hair falls into place, how hesitant but beautiful her smile is, or how elegant she looks as she gazes off into space – and he looks up at her, opening his mouth to ask her another question, this time about how settling back in Shiganshina was for her.

That’s what they do for the majority of the shoot – he asks her questions and she answers, letting her guard down slowly and becoming more natural, and he asks every time before he takes a photo. It takes a much longer time than normal. Most of the interns and those standing around leave despite their earlier excitement at seeing one of the elusive Ackermans. Jean doesn’t mind taking a long time if that’s what it takes. Besides, talking to her is actually quite pleasant. She’s kinder than he thought she would be and very interesting, telling him about all the places she’s traveled and the things she’s seen during her time off. Before he knows it, he has dozens of photos of her to pick and choose from.

Jean looks them over while Mikasa is in the changing room, flipping through them one by one. She doesn’t look at the camera in any of them, but she’s beautiful all the same. He’s seen shoots with celebrities in extravagant dresses or suits, smiling with their pasted-on smiles and empty beauty. Mikasa isn’t like that in any of these photos.

A picture is worth a thousand words, yes, but there aren’t enough words in the world to describe her ineffable beauty. To capture her in a frame, to freeze her, should be a crime because it does not allow the viewer to see the elegance with which she holds up her head or the angelic atmosphere about her. True, it’s easy to see her wide cheekbones, her sculpted brows, and the effortless way that her hair falls to shape her face, but it’s still not enough if the viewer cannot witness her careful, cautious gaze as her eyes look across the room or even the grace she has in even the smallest of movements. It makes him want to delete all these photos at once because, while they’re stunning, they’re not enough.

“Are you alright?” a voice asks, and he looks up to see Mikasa looking down at him. She’s finally out of the fancy designer dresses she was made to wear for the shoot, clad in a simple dress with a black top and colorful patterned skirt instead. It’s much simpler and more casual than anything he thought she’d wear, but it’s a good look for her. It’s a nice change from the overly formal things he’s seen her wear on the red carpet. “Are we going to pick the photos now?”

“It’s fine. It’s better if we take a break from all this. We’ve been taking these photos for hours after all,” he says. Jean stands up, turning the camera off quickly so that she can’t look at it. In truth, he doesn’t want her to look at them. He doesn’t want her to be disappointed that the photos aren’t perfect; they’re as perfect as he can make them, but it’s still not good enough to satisfy him and he’s afraid she’ll feel the same way. It’s not a lie that he thinks they should take a break though. While he knows Mikasa’s a professional, she’s been away from doing photo shoots and other things typical of her career, so he’s sure she’s tired after all this. “Want to go out to the balcony? The city looks pretty amazing around this time.”

There’s that smile again. Each time she smiles, it looks a little more brilliant than the last. He’d snap a picture right now if he hadn’t already turned off his camera.

“I’d love to see it,” she says.

He leads her to the balcony that overlooks the city. While he sometimes tires of living in the bustling city and its cramped quarters, working in a towering skyscraper is one of the perks of living in a big city. He sometimes takes a breather here after particularly bad shoots with moody starlets who believe they’ve already made it big or grumpy actors who aren’t quite happy with how their photos came out. It’s high enough up to make everyone in the city look like ants as they drive away in their toy vehicles through the crowded streets. Mikasa seems to like the view too because she has such a serene smile on her face.

And it’s that one, Jean realizes as he stares at her wide-eyed. It’s that smile that he’s been chasing all day, the smile he hasn’t managed to see until now. Fumbling for his phone, he curses as he almost drops it, but he taps in his password before looking at her desperately, breathlessly.

“Can I take a photo of you right now?” he asks. He’s already tapped on the camera app, opening it up, but he forces himself to point the phone downwards until she gives her consent. “It’s not for the shoot, but you just look so perfect right now. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to say yes, but I just want you to see it. You don’t even have to look at the camera either. You can just look somewhere else if you want.”

“Yes.”

He’s babbling so hard that he almost doesn’t hear her. Pausing for a second, sure that he’s just imagining it in his crazed desperation, he asks, “What did you say?”

She purses her lips a little bit, amused, but the smile returns to her face. “I said yes,” she says again. The wind is blowing her hair every which way, so she tucks a lock of it behind her ear so that it doesn’t fly into her face. “I’d like to see it afterward.”

Blinking because he still can’t quite believe his ears, Jean shakes his head to snap out of it and raises his phone, not wanting to lose this moment. It only takes a second to snap the photo, and he shows it to her immediately afterward. He lets her hold his phone in her hands, looking at her carefully as she inspects the picture.

Looking at it over her shoulder, he knows that this picture is a lot messier than the ones he had shot in the studio. Her hair is in disarray and her clothes are so much plainer than the ones she had worn for the shoot. Still, he thinks it’s the best shot they’ve taken today because none of those photos has this smile. It’s not the one he had seen in the earlier days of her career. This smile is not as wide or carefree, but it has another sort of happiness to it. A fearless happiness, a brave smile that dared to exist even though the rest of the world tried to take it away.

She’s silent for a moment as she observes the photo, touching her own face as if she can’t believe that she’s the same person in the photo. At first, he thinks she hates it because she doesn’t say a word, but Mikasa turns to him suddenly, thrusting the phone back into his hands and asking, “Would it be okay if you sent it to me?”

“Sent it to you?” Jean asks, startled. He clumsily taps away at the keys, opening up his e-mail so that he can compose a swift letter to her agent with the attached photo. He’s tapping on all the wrong keys though and he curses under his breath. “I’ll send it to your agent if that’s okay. If not, I can send it to your e-mail too-“

“No,” she interrupts him, putting a hand on his wrist. She looks at him, biting her lip again in that nervous way she has. “You can just send it to me. I’ll give you my phone number. I just…I didn’t know I could look like that.”

He never thought he’d ever head the photoshoot for an Ackerman. Getting the phone number of one just makes this seem like it’s all a dream, but he gives her his phone so she can tap in her phone number and hit “send” so she can see what she really looks like.

“Thank you,” she says, beaming at her phone once she receives the photo. There’s that same brilliant smile on her face. He can only hope that it doesn’t fade away when she finally makes her return.

They go back to the studio after that and pick out her photos. Out of the many dozens that he’s shot, she picks out ten, but he e-mails the rest of the photos to her agent in case she changes her mind. She isn’t smiling in any of them; the closest she comes to smiling is the ghost of a smile she had when talking about her trips to Japan and Europe. It’s certainly pretty, Jean thinks, but he thinks even those who pick up the next issue of Sina won’t fully appreciate her beauty. They didn’t before and there’s a part of him that worries that she’ll be taken for granted again, beaten down, and thrown away.

“Thank you again, Jean. It was lovely working with you,” Mikasa says, extending her hand before she leaves.

“Likewise. Take care, Miss Ackerman,” he says, and he takes her hand in hers.

When she grips his hand, shaking it firmly, he thinks that he shouldn’t worry at all. She’s stronger than anyone gives her credit for.

Jean doesn’t expect to be called to Mr. Smith’s office so soon after the photo shoot. The last time he had headed a photoshoot, he just sent in the photos to be touched up slightly, got them approved, and then received a copy of the magazine as soon as it was published. He had thought it would work the same way this time, but the call from Mr. Smith’s secretary said that his boss wanted to speak with him about something.

Like he did the last time he had come to Mr. Smith’s office, Jean rapped his knuckles on the door nervously and said, “Sir? Jean Kirstein from the photography department. You said you wanted to see me about something.”

“Come in.”

When Jean walks in, he sees Mr. Smith sitting at his desk. A manila folder sits on his desk, opened. The contents are in Mr. Smith’s hand – Mikasa Ackerman’s photos. His boss’ face is expressionless as it flips through the many photos, both the ones that were chosen and the ones that were rejected. After Jean had been seated for a while, Mr. Smith finally looked up, giving Jean his full attention.

“So, Jean,” Mr. Smith says, putting the photos down. Jean thinks he liked it better when Mr. Smith would only half pay attention to him. The intense stare of his cool blue eyes makes Jean want to fidget in his chair. “How did the shoot with Miss Ackerman go last week?”

“Er, it went well, I think,” Jean answers. He hates that he tacked on the “I think,” but talking to Mr. Smith always makes him feel so unsure about himself. “She was charming to work with and seemed pleased with how the photos came out.”

“Her agent called earlier this morning. They want to pull her out of this edition,” Mr. Smith says. He looks at Jean carefully.

“Excuse me?” Shocked isn’t even the right word for what Jean feels. It feels a little like betrayal, like she had come over and ripped his heart out even though he had known that her return to the spotlight was a tentative thing. Still, she had seemed so ready at the end of the day. She had helped him pick the photos, she had shaken his hand, she had told him that it was lovely working with him. Why then would she decide against being featured in the magazine after having done the photoshoot?

But Mr. Smith seems to already be done talking about it. He’s picking up the photos off his desk, stacking them up, and putting them back in the manila folder. “Her agent says that she’s given it more thought, and Miss Ackerman believes she isn’t ready just yet to return to the spotlight.”

“I see.” Jean numbly takes the folder that Mr. Smith hands him. It really was too good to be true – the photoshoot, those conversations between photos, that last picture on the balcony. In the end, all his work – his photos and his words – meant nothing.

Mr. Smith must have excused him at some point because Jean stands up to leave and is heading towards the door, his hand hovering on the doorknob, when his boss calls him one last time.

“Jean,” Mr. Smith says. When Jean turns around, Mr. Smith is looking right at him again with those piercing blue eyes. “You did great work. Those photos were incredible. The reason why she decided not to do this in the end had nothing to do with you, I’m sure. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Praise from his boss is rare, but it still doesn’t make him feel better. Still, Jean feigns a smile at Mr. Smith and mutters a quick “thank you” before disappearing to his office.

---

What had he done wrong? Was it letting her not look at the camera? Was it because he had been to personal in asking her questions? Or was it perhaps that last photo on the balcony? Jean doesn’t which it is, and he nearly drives himself mad thinking about all the possibilities that caused this to happen. He stares at the printed photos, scrutinizing them closely, but he doesn’t quite know what’s wrong with them.

It’s hurting his eyes to look at them for so long, so he drops them down on his desk and rubs his tired eyes.

After he thinks about it for a while, this was bound to happen. He’s far from experienced and the shoot with Historia Reiss was just a stroke of luck. To think he would find the same success with an Ackerman was pretentious of him. Of course, she would pretend to like them and then quickly change her mind as soon as she was far enough away. He would have done the same thing. If Mr. Smith ever allows him to stand behind a camera again, Jean would be lucky.

His phone rings and Jean picks it up without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Jean Kirstein?” says the person on the other end. It’s a female voice, soft and delicate. It sounds so familiar, but Jean doesn’t dare to think about who it might be. It would be too good to be true.

“This is he,” he says cautiously.

“This is Mikasa Ackerman,” the speaker says.

“Mikasa?”

He can hear her smiling on the other end, can imagine it without having to look at her, and he wishes he had a camera with him right now so he could run over and capture it.

“That’s the first time you’ve called me by my first name,” she laughs. Jean realizes that he’s never heard her laugh before. It’s a short laugh, like a burst of happiness, but it’s beautiful like the rest of her.

“Yeah, I just…I’m really surprised that you called,” he says, laughing himself. He’s still confused and hurt, but hearing her voice makes him feel better. Perhaps he had overthought it. Maybe it really does have nothing to do with him.

“It’s fine,” she assures him. There’s a pause on her end and she finally says, “I’m sorry I changed my mind after everything. The pictures were amazing. I showed them to my agent and he said they were the best he’s seen in a while.”

Jean wants to ask her but wonders if he should. He has a right to know though. After all, he had been the ones to take the pictures in the first place. He’s not even upset about his photos not being featured on the front page. She had just seemed so happy that day and he wants to know what changed her mind. So he asks.

“I guess it’s because…it’s been a while since anyone has ever really seen me, the real me,” Mikasa says. He wonders if she’s chewing her lip in that way she does when she’s nervous. “And I really want people to see me in the same way that you do, but I’m not sure I want them to just yet. For now…I think I’m just satisfied if you can see me that way.”

The way she says that, so earnestly, makes him blush even though he’s sure she’s just being kind. But her explanation makes perfect sense to him. After being hurt by the world before, it’s not like she could return so easily. The fact that she had even thought to return at all is amazing to him.

“Well,” Jean says, no longer feeling upset. Rather, he feels hopeful that this isn’t the end – for her, for him, and for the two of them both working together. “The world better be ready when they see the real you.”

She laughs again and he closes his eyes, soaking in the sound of her happiness. “Yeah…I look forward to working with you again soon, Jean.”

“Likewise…Mikasa.” He sets down his phone once the call has ended and leans back in his chair.

The world isn’t going to be ready when they meet her again. That’s fine, Jean thinks as he opens up the photo of her he had taken on his phone. She smiles brilliantly back him, radiant as the sun. They’ll be blown away when they see Mikasa next, her in all her real beauty.

#jeankasa au weekend #jeankasa weekend #jeankasa #jean kirstein #mikasa ackerman #snk #celebrity au

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