#not including wendy though because wendy would listen to the warning

[captainuranium543]

I think Lucy should get a gun, partly for clients who try to undercut their payment but also for battles when she just don’t give an f

She should and then whenever anyone on her team steps out of line she can give them a warning and when they (obviously) don't listen she can go full 100 and pull a fucking Glock on them while yelling PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM AND STEP AWAY FROM THE FLAMMABLE OBJECT

[not-wholly-unheroic]

Thoughts on Off to Neverland: 70 Years of Disney’s Peter Pan by Jim Korkis

Now that I have finished reading Off to Neverland, I’d like to share some thoughts on it—the good, the bad, and the ugly. Let’s start with the negatives and get that out of the way, shall we?

As mentioned in a previous post, the book starts out sounding rather clunky and more like a list of facts than an actual book. However, once we move past the original history of Peter Pan as imagined by J.M. Barrie and start getting into the history of Disney Peter Pan material specifically, it starts to improve. Korkis was, after all, considered a Disney historian, so I guess it’s no real surprise that he writes more excitedly about that side of things. That said, there are still some things that bugged me and made me feel like the book was slapped together in a hurry. I noticed several spelling errors, missing words, and/or weird punctuation throughout the book and while that doesn’t take away from the info itself, it’s rather distracting and unprofessional for a published book. It’s also troubling that Korkis has neither a bibliography nor footnotes in his book to indicate exactly where he got his information from. Some of it was, undoubtedly, from interviews he conducted himself, but even then, there is a way that you are supposed to write up interviews as source material for professional writing…and Korkis just…doesn’t for some reason. So if I want to look up more info on, say, a specific fact…I can’t really do that because I have no proof of an original source. Lastly, some of the “facts” he includes—and I’m being nitpicky here but the guy is supposed to be a Disney historian so I think I’m allowed to be—are straight-up WRONG. For example, in the Disney film, Hook is said to have a harpsichord in his cabin (it’s not; it’s a piano—listen to a harpsichord…it doesn’t sound like that) and a cutlass as his weapon of choice (cutlasses are curved on one side; his blade is definitely more akin to a rapier or a fencing sword). Smee is also said to be the first mate in the original film, and while it’s true that in some later Disney media like Jake and the Neverland Pirates has portrayed Smee as a first mate, the original film does not. Heck, the man has a bosun’s whistle that he uses to pipe up the crew and specifically mentions the first mate as one of the people spreading rumors about Pan having banished Tink during the scene where he’s pouring hot water on Hook’s feet. So clearly he isn’t the first mate, and you don’t have to be a Disney expert to know that. You just have to actually watch the film. The author also says that Cubby is referred to as Curly in the sequel, Return to Neverland…which, again, just listen to the film for yourself and you’ll quickly learn that isn’t true. Oh, and did I mention that he essentially defends the racist portrayal of the “Indians” in the original film? Yeah, so…there’s that.

On a more positive note, I did learn some interesting new things about Peter Pan in the Disneyverse (though, of course, since there is no bibliography, I can’t prove any of them…). So, here are a few fun facts for you fellow Peter Pan nerds, as promised.

(1) There were a LOT of changes made to the original script and storyline between its initial inception and the final version of the film we have today. A few things that were considered but ultimately not used include the following:

Wendy was originally going to be the one who wanted to go to Skull Rock while Peter warned it was too dangerous to go there, only giving in when she finally dared him to take them there.

In one version, Nana came with the kids to Neverland while John stayed home, being “too grown up” for Neverland.

There were several different suggested starting points for the film. One would have had an adult Wendy as narrator reading the story to her daughter, Jane. Another started with Peter’s backstory similar to his origins in The Little White Bird. In either this or another version with a backstory for Pan, we would have seen Tink as the queen of the fairies who, on being presented with the foundling baby Peter, decided that he should be raised by the fairies to protect them against the pirates and other threats and, in exchange, gave him the power of flight.

One version of the story that would have followed much more closely to Barrie’s storyline had Hook creeping down part of the way into Hangman’s Tree to poison Peter but getting stuck and weeping frustrated tears that land in Peter’s “medicine.” These tears, of course, turned out to be poison from the red of his eye as in the 2003 film. This version also would have featured Hook voluntarily jumping ship and being nabbed by a silent crocodile whose clock had run down.

Disney debated for a long time whether to make Peter Pan a live-action film, an animated film, or a hybrid of the two. In the case of the latter, Wendy and her brothers would have been live-action characters with Hook, Peter, and the other residents of Neverland as animated characters who sprung to life from Wendy’s storybook.

There was gonna be a fairy ball. And a scene with the fairies feeding the kids at a kind of banquet. Also a fairy jazz band. Yes, you read that right. Fairy. jazz. band.

(2) The very first Tink to fly over one of the Disney parks to head off the fireworks was a 70 year-old Hungarian woman of Jewish descent and former burlesque dancer. This lady, known as “Tiny” Kline, slid down a 784 ft long cable nearly 150 ft off the ground at speeds up to 30 mph nearly every night for three years…while fighting cancer.

(3) There was an earlier version of Return to Neverland titled Peter and Jane featuring Kathryn Beaumont reprising her role as Wendy and Corey Burton in both the roles of Hook and Smee. Most of the voice recording for this version was already complete when the directors decided to go a different direction with the film. Beaumont was ultimately replaced by Kath Soucie, and the role of Smee went to Jeff Bennett.

(4) Somewhere out there, a live-action reference model version of Return to Neverland exists, and I need it. I have no idea if any of the voice actors were used as models as in the original film, but either way, I really wish we had some way to access the recording, or at least stills.

(5) Apparently, the filmmakers’ reasoning for replacing the crocodile with the octopus was that they thought a toothy crocodile would be “too threatening” for younger members of the audience. That, and they wanted to come up with a new, creative way to torture Hook. (For some reason, Korkis seems to think that the octopus can’t see well because he views Hook and the crew as fish. This is another “fact” which I’m pretty sure is wrong. I always assumed the vision of the characters as fish was just to show that the octopus considered them all potential food, not an actual indication of the creature’s sight…but whatever.)

(6) And last but not least, I have to include Hans and Corey’s takes on Hook as a character because my thoughts on the book wouldn’t be complete without them. I’ve shared some of this before but it bears repeating.

Hans Conried:

“He is a much maligned character. If you read the lines with any sensibility at all, you must have an animus against Peter Pan who could fly, and took outrageous advantage of this one-armed man. Hook was a gentleman. Pan was not. His behavior was bad form.”

Corey Burton:

“He’s the nastiest of Disney’s comical villains. He’s conceited and bombastic and takes great relish in his evil and that makes him really fun to play. Captain Hook is so theatrical, like an old ham actor of the vaudeville and music hall days. It’s not that he really scares anyone because you can see right through all of his bluster. He’s really just scrambling for the recognition afforded Blackbeard and the other great pirates.”

I find it interesting that Burton, though his take on the character is more comedic than Conried’s, still has a rather sympathetic view of Hook—that his attempts at villainy are, in fact, so over-the-top precisely because they are meant to cover up a deep insecurity that he isn’t living up to what everyone expects him to be.

Overall, the book had some fun and interesting bits but wasn’t quite what I was hoping for. I’d love to send Korkis an email and ask him about some of the issues I had with the book and pick his brain. Unfortunately, he just passed away in July of 2023, so that’s no longer an option.

[suga-kookiemonster]

satisfy 04

summary⇢ “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do? pairing⇢ seokjin/reader, namjoon/reader, taehyung/reader, …..jimin/reader word count⇢ 10.6k genre⇢ smut | escort!au | ceo!au (kinda) warnings⇢ sexual content, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink 👀, spanking, light degradation, light humiliation, light choking, exhibitionism, hair pulling, cumplay, creampie, pussy slapping, namjoon’s a little mean but you offended him so 👀

a/n⇢ i absolutely did not intend to take this long between updates ☠️☠️ idk how time passed so quickly while i was working on other stuff, but here we finally are! happy belated birthday, joonie!!! ily, my day 1, my virgo bf 💕 mood for this chapter is this. hope you enjoy!!

chapters⇢ previous | next | series masterlist

Seokjin had you the most consistently.

The next couple months passed by almost in a fever dream. On the surface, things were normal—you went to class, you studied, you hung out with your friends when time would allow. Exactly the same as it’s always been.

But you knew the parts that were invisible to the outside looking in. Like how all of your free time was now taken up by your new (rich, impossibly handsome) employers. How your definition of a normal night had quickly shifted from browsing Netflix to spreading yourself for Kim Seokjin’s eager mouth.

Seokjin fucked you every Thursday, just as the two of you scheduled. To your surprise, he continued to be just as attentive a lover as the first time you had given him your body, always seeming to revel in making you feel good. But in addition to your scheduled meet ups, he’d asked you twice over the past few weeks to accompany him to company events. And it was during those nights that you truly started to understand what he got out of his arrangement with you.

Those nights, you got dressed up in the gorgeous designer dress that you had picked from the list Wendy had sent you (already curated to your previously-provided tastes). The supplied dress and shoes were all extremely flattering and always fit you like a glove, because your measurements had long been taken and tailors were sent, if necessary.

As always, your main objective was simply to support him. To walk the room with him when requested, a careful manicured hand in the crook of his elbow. To fill the space next to him during any sit down dinners. The expected eye candy for such an affluent bachelor, you supposed. Though Seokjin never made you feel as such—always the perfect gentleman, always getting you drinks, always including you in conversation, when appropriate.

But these dinners highlighted the distinct difference to you. The difference between the man who had cooked for you and this one—the man who was oh so careful and calculating with his words; the man who schmoozed, who smiled and laughed without humor—was stark. And it was at these dinners that you started to understand the need for that dichotomy. Kim Seokjin was a smart man—he saw those corporate dinners for exactly what they were. He wasn’t deluded enough to believe that these social events were anything short of war, and he was a man always ready for battle.

As his ever-present companion, it would be hard for you not to notice. The snide remarks made by crotchety old men, the petty comments muttered under their breath, just loud enough to ensure you could hear. But beyond the slight tightening of a hand on his glass, you never saw Seokjin react. He was the picture of perfect grace, simply smiling in a way that clued the board members in that he was onto their little game. Simply giving the correct answers to their outwardly benign yet clearly spiteful questions.

It was when the events were over, when the chauffeur would drive the two of you back to Seokjin’s condo, that his impeccable mask of composure would start to crack. When you started to see just how tightly wound these ordeals truly made him.

The first time, he had been on you before the elevator doors had even shut properly, mouth slotting against yours with an intensity that had caught you by surprise. He had walked you backward, licking your lips open as his hands pushed up the hem of your dress and freely roamed underneath. That night, he had laid you down and ate you out until you cried.

This was how he destressed, you came to realize. Seokjin loved to play your body like a fiddle, to guide you to the peaks of pleasure and keep you there for as long as he so pleased. And, as you quickly learned, the best way for him to melt away any of his frustrations was to be balls deep in you—just like tonight. Tonight, you were thankful he lived on the top floor and no one was on the other side of the wall the headboard was loudly and rhythmically rattling against. Thankful that no one was witness to how he was hard he was riding you. Slowly, but forcefully, the way he had hooked your ankles over his shoulders ensuring he hit deep. Making sure you would feel every last bit of his massive cock.

You were exhausted, whole body jelly from the three orgasms he had already coaxed out of you. But still he wasn’t sated, whispering praise and reassurances against your fevered skin. Eagerly swallowing your whimpers, sweetly begging you to gift him with one more, just one more, sweetheart. Smiling when a sure thumb rolling against your clit finally resulted in your jaw falling slack, back bowing as your pussy locked a vice around him.  

Taehyung had you most often.

As a member of your social circle, he simply had the easiest access to you. Even if he didn’t always reach out to you directly, he still went to all the same movie nights and dinners and bar meetups as you did, so the end result was exactly the same—him and you. Alone.

After your first night together, Tae rapidly became comfortable with your new relationship dynamic. He didn’t necessarily act differently toward you in front of the others—there were no lingering touches, no out of pocket comments full of innuendo. (Sometimes, if he caught your eye, he would smirk knowingly or send you a cheeky wink, but none of this was out of character for him, and so if anyone else saw it, they thought nothing of it.) But as soon as the two of you were remotely alone or out of earshot, he was liable to casually bring up something he would like to try. And since you had proven yourself to be so openminded when it came to what he liked, he had no qualms about discussing this with you whenever the mood struck him.

(“White,” he murmured in your ear one night at dinner, smoothly handing you a $100 bill while your companions were busy arguing over which appetizer to order. It was a change of pace to sit next to him instead of Jimin, but Tae had slid into the booth next to you before the other man could react.

Your resulting nod was one of both confirmation and approval, and you quickly put the money into your purse. But unfortunately, the exchange had not gone by completely unnoticed.

Jungkook perked up, holding his hand over the table expectantly and waggling his fingers. “You gonna gimme some of that, since you’re handing out free money?”

“I owe her for lunch,” Taehyung lied with a scoff, rolling his eyes for good measure.

The redhead reluctantly retracted his appendage, his excitement visibly dimmed. Jimin didn’t say anything, but you hadn’t missed the slight, pensive scrunch of his brows.)

Despite your frequency of meet ups, the two of you did not always have sex. One of the things Taehyung had admitted to you early on was that he enjoyed giving foot massages. And since you enjoyed receiving them, it was a no-brainer that you would allow him to infiltrate your busy schedule more easily—so long as he didn’t interrupt whatever you already had planned for the night. With that mindset, it soon became rather common for the two of you to be found sitting on your couch together on a weeknight, your feet in his lap while you studied. Taehyung, ever considerate, wouldn’t say much as you completed your reading, content to sit in silence as his large, strong hands pressed into your flesh. And honestly? It was pretty relaxing. Helped keep at bay the always hovering cloud of stress from your schoolwork. Kind of helped you to wind down from the day. So you kept saying yes whenever he asked, and he kept showing up with takeout from whatever restaurant you were feeling that particular night, and you kept doing whatever assignment you had planned while trying to suppress any audible sounds of pleasure from escaping you.

There was always a much higher probability of the night being derailed by much more…carnal activities if Tae could clock your interest.

One thing you learned early on not to agree to without planning for it beforehand was pedicures. Though every week or two he already provided you with money to visit professionals and keep things spicy, one day Taehyung had rather shyly asked you if you would be comfortable with him painting your nails instead. Seeing no harm in the request, you had easily agreed. But you had clearly underestimated how much the act would work your friend up, because he had barely finished haphazardly polishing one foot before his tongue had somehow found itself meandering up its sole. Before his hand was down your pants, before your panties were pulled to the side, before he was buried to the hilt in your guts.

After the first couple times this happened, you learned to be strategic to when you agreed to this request. Taehyung asking to paint your toenails almost always ended up in sex you had not always set aside time for, so you mentally sorted this into the scheduled activities pile.

And Namjoon? To your complete bafflement—despite months of meeting up with him—he still hadn’t had you at all.

Maybe he was asexual? Honestly, the true reason was probably exactly why you had been wary when Taehyung had proposed the arrangement to you in the first place—the man simply didn’t want to have sex with you. Which made total sense, considering he was such a catch. Rich? Handsome? And a genuinely nice and respectful guy who didn’t fit the cocky, insufferable mold men of his status tended to occupy? Why would he even need to look in your direction?

…But why would he bother with the arrangement in the first place if either of those reasons were the case? Why agree to tie himself to you when he could have literally anyone he wanted? When he could have asked his brothers to pick someone else who was more suited to his tastes?

It made you feel a bit off-kilter, to be honest. With Jin and Taehyung, the boundaries were clear and you knew exactly where you stood. But it all felt a little murkier when it came to Namjoon.

Every week, you would meet up with him—sometimes for more walks at the park, sometimes for dinner at a nice restaurant, once for lunch and a day at the history museum.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were being courted. That Kim Namjoon was taking you on dates, that the two of you were in the very beginning stages of a potentially romantic relationship. But every day you reminded yourself of the secured PDF hidden in a special folder on your laptop—a digital copy of a fully-executed contract. You refused to fall into any other sort of thinking—never let yourself become deluded about why it was exactly he was buying you dinner, why the two of you went to the movies to see the latest superhero film.

Paying for your time, your contract explicitly stated, so technically, nothing was out of place.

And yet…

You couldn’t stop yourself from metaphorically holding your breath and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The text went by unnoticed for over an hour, you being too distracted by the racks and racks of lace to pay the vibrating of your bag any attention.

A man of his word, Taehyung had replaced the tights he had ruined tenfold, showing up at your apartment one night with a gift bag full of delicate, intricately-designed nylons (many of which were suspiciously missing crotches). You appreciated his gift, but as time went on, you were highly amused to find that it had clearly been just as much for him as you.

Your relaxed attitude about his decidedly peculiar sexual preferences only made Tae more enthusiastic to share them with you, but you didn’t mind. Truthfully, it didn’t take very long for you to start reveling in his worship. But who could blame you? To have such an impossibly attractive man pay such acute attention to you only stoked your ego and confidence.

At the end of the day, his obvious pleasure triggered yours in turn, and there was no clause in your agreement that said you weren’t allowed to enjoy your job. So why the fuck not?

This thought process was what made you pause when you happened to cross a lingerie shop on your way home from court one day. You were no stranger to lingerie, but you had never put that much thought into it before, simply finding a bra and panty set whose price, in your eyes, justified the amount of material you were paying for. Now, with a lot more pocket money and a much more interested partner, you found yourself  taking the time to scrutinize more scandalously see-through designs than the ones buried in your drawers. Found yourself rifling through ones that conveniently unsnapped at the crotch and had garters to match.

It was only when you were at the register and reaching into your bag—your hand brushing against your phone before your wallet—that you were reminded of the device’s existence. And a cursory look at the screen alerted to two missed texts—one from Jimin and one from Namjoon.

Two texts, same message.

Are you free Saturday?

Namjoon picked you up in a black car that, at first glance, was much less flashy than the bright red Lamborghini Tae liked to drive. The BMW insignia lightly stitched into the headrests quickly smashed any thoughts you could have of the car being any less expensive, though.

“Hey,” he greeted as you slid into the passenger seat. “How was your week?”

Like always when you met him for day outings, he was dressed rather casually—he had forgone his glasses, and today’s ensemble included a yellow sweatshirt, yellow sweatpants, a black beanie, and sneakers. But despite his outfit’s simplicity, you knew it had to cost more than your entire wardrobe.

“Busy,” you groaned, melting into the buttery leather. “I told you I’m doing that internship, right? Well, I’m shadowing my professor on his case, and when I’m not at court, there’s a lot of paperwork to get through and  even more reading to do. And since I went to that corporate dinner with your brother earlier this week, I’m really behind and have a lot of reading to catch up on and—” You paused, it suddenly occurring to you that Namjoon had merely asked to be polite and likely didn’t actually give a shit. He was perfectly aware you had been at the dinner—he had seen you there, after all. “Wow, I’m sorry. I’m just rambling on and you don’t want to hear all that.”

“Of course I do.” His eyes shifted from the road to you, lips twitching amusedly upward. “I asked.”

The suspiciously fond look on his face made heat spring to your own, and you turned away, flustered. “How was yours?”

“Long,” he sighed, focus returning to the road. “Not as busy as you, it sounds like, but it sure as hell felt like it.” He paused, then cleared his throat. “You know, if you’re that busy, it’s totally fine if you’d rather we skip this week. It’s no trouble—I can turn right around and take you back.”

You shook your head immediately, slightly nervous you’d fucked up. Complaining to your employer that your job—that you were paid a lot of money for—was inconveniencing you? Were you a fucking moron? “No, no,  no, of course not! That’s not fair to you and I promise, I’m totally fine. Unless you’d prefer we reschedule because you’d rather unwind or something.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow at the sudden urgency underlying your tone. “This is my unwinding—was just worried about you.”

“Please don’t worry about it, Namjoon! I’ll figure it out. Just cut back on sleep or something.”

A puff of laughter. “You already look like you’ve been cutting back on sleep.”

His clear amusement soothed your rising alarm. “Wow, thanks,” you snorted. “Tell me I look like shit without actually telling me I look like shit.”

“Whoa, I didn’t say that!” he protested, laughing again. “Don’t put that on me! You don’t look shitty at all, just more tired than usual.”

“Very astute observation. You are correct, kind sir.”

His cheeks dimpled at your playful tone. You smiled in response, happy that months spent together had seemed to tamp down his shy hesitance. While still ever the gentleman, Namjoon was no longer as politely detached as he had been when you first met—no longer super careful with his words, no longer as reserved. He laughed, he joked, he was sarcastic. He was a person, and not just a corporately-crafted one. And while time had shown you that Namjoon could still sometimes be relatively awkward, it always seemed more like a personality trait than a response to you in particular.

“Well, if you insist on today still happening, I’ll try not to keep you out too long.”

You raised a finger in protest. “Hey now, don’t be rushing me! I’m tryna see some otters.”

“Then we’ll see some otters,” he said resolutely with a laugh. “And sea turtles. I love sea turtles.”

When he had originally texted you to ask your availability, you were pleasantly surprised to hear that he wanted to go to the aquarium. You hadn’t been to one in years, and it just so happened that the one in this new city you now called home was known for being one of the best in the country, so you had been more than happy to agree to Namjoon’s suggestion of hitting it up. Plus, since the two of you were going early in the afternoon, you would still have enough time to catch up on some reading later that evening, especially if you ate at the park.

And luckily for you, Jimin hadn’t minded catching up with you later in the week instead. So all in all, despite a very hectic week, your Saturday was looking to be pretty chill, and you were grateful for it.

“How come we didn’t just take the train there?” you asked curiously. “I’m not sure if it would have saved us time, but it definitely would have saved you some parking money.”

“I was already running errands and thought it was easier to just pick you up,” Namjoon shrugged easily. “Besides, would you really prefer to be squished on a train right now?”

He had a point. The aquarium was in the touristy part of the city, and you had no doubt that there would be a ton of people on the train headed that way on a Saturday. Besides, you somehow kept forgetting that a thirty dollar parking fee was chump change for Namjoon—they could have asked for three times that and he probably wouldn’t even blink.

“No, this is much more comfortable,” you admitted.

“Good.” His cheeks dimpled again. “I’m glad.”

Namjoon, you came to find out, was rather enthusiastic about the aquarium. After the two of you paid, he took his sweet time analyzing the map, eyebrows furrowed a bit in concentration as he worked out the best  order to see everything. You bit your lip, doing your best to tamp down your amusement at his childlike excitement. It was cute.

Still, he wasn’t the only one looking forward to the day’s activities. “I’m so glad we’re here,” you admitted easily. “This place has been on my to-visit list since I moved here.”

Namjoon looked up from the map curiously. “You’ve never been here before?”

“Nope.” You pointedly popped the p. “Honestly, I’ve been so busy that I haven’t really had the chance to be a tourist yet. I was pumped when you suggested it! ”

“Then I’m glad I did,” he replied with a soft smile. “Let’s make sure we get the most out of it.” He shuffled a bit closer to you, leaning the map in his hands in your direction. Your eyes followed the finger he dragged   along its surface, tracing a suggested route. “What do you say we hit the freshwater section first? There are some river otters in there, and it’ll put us on the right path the dolphin show.”

You hummed in agreement of his assessment. “Yeah, it looks like that only runs every couple hours and the next one is in twenty minutes, so sounds like a plan.”

The two of you chatted as you meandered down your chosen path, pausing every so often to observe any fish in the tank that caught your eyes. “I just think it’s ridiculous that we make dolphins jump through hoops when they’re so intelligent,” Namjoon commented.

“Definitely ridiculous and arguably unethical,” you agreed. “I mean, I know plenty of humans who are dumber than dolphins and we don’t make them do tricks for our amusement. We just allow them to be government officials.”

“Still, we’re already here, so.”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “At this point, it would be rude not to see the dolphin show.”

“Can’t let all their practice go to waste,” he said solemnly, and you snorted, only triggering his own chuckles.

He really was a good-looking man. A fact that was impossible for you to forget, but it was during moments like this—when he was bathed in the luminescence of the fishtanks and smiling just widely enough that his eyes started to disappear—that the realization hit you with a vengeance.

“Namjoon,” you said without much thought. Maybe he was just too shy to come on to you? Maybe he was still just waiting for your go-ahead, for some sort of sign. He looked over his shoulder at you curiously. “Why are we here?”

Confusion had his smile faltering a bit. “…To see the sea turtles?” he hedged.

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “Well yeah, of course, but I really meant why.” This didn’t seem to clarify anything for him, so you continued. “Like, obviously I love going to museums with you, and going to movies, and getting ice cream. I love that. But Namjoon, I would do all of that for free. And that’s not really why you’re paying me.”

All humor faded from his expression, something strange flitting across his face instead. It was gone too quickly for you to decipher what it meant exactly.

“I know what I’m paying you for,” he said, voice with an uncharacteristic edge.

The air between you, only seconds before playful and teasing, now had an intensity that made you hesitant and on edge. The look he pinned you with had you freezing in your tracks, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. You eyed him back warily, completely thrown by the change in his demeanor.

“I know you do,” you backtracked quickly, nervous you had crossed some sort of line. “Obviously you do! I was just—”

“Not that I need to explain myself, but I tend to get a lot more out of things when I connect with the person. I’ve been trying to get to know you first.”

Your mouth opened, an apology heavy and waiting on your tongue, but whatever you were about to say fell on deaf ears. Namjoon pointedly looked at his watch, sighed, and swiveled on his heel, making his way right back in the direction the two of you had come from. Caught off guard, you instinctually followed him, having to walk faster in order to keep up with his long legs.

“Namjoon, where are you going? I didn’t mean to imply anything—”

Your rambling did nothing to stop his stride. He didn’t slow down for you. He didn’t look in your direction. In fact, the only acknowledgment of you that you could see was the periodic tic of his jaw as he led the two of you out of the building and back to the parking lot.

Silently, Namjoon unlocked the doors of his car. You hesitated, wondering just how badly you had fucked up and unsure if he still wanted you around at this point, but his gaze snapped to you, making you realize that you found his full attention markedly more unnerving than the lack of it.

“Get in.”

You obeyed without question, quietly sliding into the passenger seat and buckling your seatbelt as Namjoon, eerily calm, put the car in drive and started driving to his intended destination. Normally, the nerves you were feeling now would have your mouth running a mile a minute, but the noticeable tension in Namjoon’s posture effectively rendered you mute.

A missed turn immediately clued you in to the fact that he wasn’t taking you home, which didn’t help your bemused, spinning mind any. It wasn’t until later, after the two of you had sat in a charged silence for what felt like forever, that you started to understand what was happening. Namjoon turned into a driveway next to an expensive high rise. You realized you were entering the building’s garage when a keycard, succinctly procured from his pocket, activated the large metal door in front of you.

His place. He had taken you back to his place, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know why.

You had brought it up, after all.

Namjoon didn’t speak to you when he gave his car keys to the valet. He didn’t speak to you on the way up the elevator. He didn’t even speak to you when he unlocked his door and tossed the contents of his pockets on an awaiting foyer table. He only led you further into his condo and stared at you, the intensity of his gaze almost smothering.

“Namjoon,” you tried again, your voice meek and unthreatening. “I’m so sorry if I offended you. I promise I didn’t mean to rush you or anything. It’s just that it’s been a few months and I was curious.”

“Curious,” he repeated, head tilting as he considered it.

You had thought his previous silence—his previous indifference of you—unsettling. But you were starting to realize that having his full attention was undoubtedly more so.

“Curious?” His decidedly mocking tone threw you off. As did the humorless chuckle that escaped him. “Or selfish?”

“W-What?” You blinked owlishly, skin prickling from the weight of his stare.

“It only matters what you want, right?” He shook his head, clicked his tongue. “Bratty. Selfish.”

You could only gape at him, completely taken aback by this change in attitude and not sure where it was coming from. So taken aback that you almost missed the way he eyed you up and down, gaze intense and calculating.

“Do you remember your safeword?”

Oh. Oh. This was definitely happening. This was finally happening and now that it was, you found yourself once again filled with nerves—back at square one, as if you were new to this song and dance and hadn’t actually spent the past few months sleeping with men for money. A taunting crook of Namjoon’s brow at your extended silence had your tongue scrambling to reply. “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

You blinked rapidly, confused beyond belief. On edge as you scrambled to recall the word you had written on your contract what seemed like forever ago. “Cinnamon.”

Namjoon’s eyes softened a little, lips twitching in approval. “Good. If at any point you need me to stop, you use that. And I want you to tap me three times if you can’t say it.”

WHAT.

You could practically feel your eyes bug out of your head, breath catching in your throat as your brain struggled to reconcile the man standing before you with the things he was saying. Completely thrown, you could do nothing but gape at him stupidly while you watched his expression settle into something markedly intimidating.

“You need to use your words,” he admonished sternly. “It’s important that we communicate and stay on the same page. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes,” you croaked.

“When should you use your safe word?”

“If I need you to stop.” Only moments before it had been hard for you to even formulate responses, but now, much like a chastened child, the words were flying off your tongue.

Namjoon tilted his head slightly. “And if you can’t say it?”

Your mind was currently too frazzled to come up with any situation where you wouldn’t be able to verbalize your discomfort, but clearly the man in front of you was full of surprises. “Tap you. Three times,” you hurriedly added when he crossed his arms over his chest impatiently.

“Good,” he allowed with a tilt of his head. “But overall, you haven’t been very good for Daddy, have you.”

Daddy? Jesus, what had you gotten yourself into?

He didn’t wait for your response. Namjoon turned on his heel, silently making his way down a nearby hallway and giving you a single glance over his shoulder to ensure you were following him. And follow you did, distractedly taking in your surroundings.

Like his brother, Namjoon lived in one of the most exclusive buildings in the city. But while Seokjin lived in a penthouse suite that was very modern, Namjoon’s place was much more rustic and homey. There was an expensive-looking bicycle parked in the corner of the living room, various plants sunned themselves against the floor to ceiling windows, and though the furniture was obviously high-end, it all also felt a lot more lived-in. While at Seokjin’s you often felt wary touching anything or breathing too much of his rich people air, you could easily see yourself easily curling up on Namjoon’s couch with a hot cup of tea and a good book.

But reading was clearly the last thing on Namjoon’s mind. He led you from the living room, down the hallway, and right into a spacious bedroom with a large bed. This room being on the same side of the building as the living room meant that it got the same gorgeous view of the city, and had the same wall of floor to ceiling windows to best showcase it.

“The dolphin show was in 15 minutes, so I think 15 is a good number,” Namjoon mused suddenly, throwing you out of your reverie. He sat down in one of the armchairs in the little sitting area next to the bed, sucking on his teeth irritably as he stared at you, eyes steely. “Strip.”

“What?”

“You heard me the first time. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Seriously. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

You couldn’t help the way you reflexively bristled at his tone. He’s paying you, you reminded yourself, pushing down the urge to ask him who the hell he thought he was talking to. Warily, you eyed the gorgeous view that, seeing as rich people in high rises apparently didn’t believe in blinds, also gave you generous access to the homes in the building across the street.

“Here?” you asked incredulously. Fully aware that if you could easily see people as they lounged on their couches, they also most definitely could see you.

Namjoon didn’t deign to answer you. Simply stared you down expectantly and got more comfortable in his seat, the space between his thighs widening in a clear display of dominance.

You technically had never marked exhibitionism as a no, but now that the opportunity presented itself, you found yourself hesitant. Shy to show your body, to any onlookers, yes, but mostly Namjoon, who was sitting there so stone-faced that you questioned if he truly wanted you at all.

Still, after another glance out the window at the opposite building confirmed there seemed to be no one home at this time of day who would see you, you simply exhaled the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and started to do what you were told.

Your shirt went first, pulled over your head in a manner that was decidedly unsexy. But in your defense, you didn’t feel very sexy, Namjoon’s expression remaining unchanged despite your increasing state of undress. Your jeans were next to go, awkwardly shuffled down your hips and kicked aside. You paused, shifting from foot to foot as you waited for him to do…anything, really.

But Namjoon just kept staring you down, fingers tapping impatiently against his knee. “Keep going.”

Already feeling rather naked under his scrutiny, it took you a few moments to convince yourself to take the plunge, ridding yourself of your bra and underwear as well. At first, the emergence of your tits seemed to have no effect on him, but then a quick swipe of his tongue across his lips sold him out. That, and the way his eyes hungrily roved your form, pupils big and dark.

“Come here,” he ordered, voice gravely as he patted his lap. You approached him willingly, moving to straddle him, but strong hands on your waist stopped you. He shook his head, tutting disapprovingly. “No, none of that. We’re not going to reward your selfish behavior.”

Okay, the bizarreness of this all was starting to frustrate you. What the hell was he going on about? Why drive you all the way here and get you naked if he wasn’t going to do anything about it?  

Your bafflement must have been evident on your face, because Namjoon graced you with some clarification, patting his lap again. “Bend over. You’re getting punished.”

Ah, okay, a little roleplay. You could get behind that, no problem. Now feeling like you had a better grasp of the situation, you obediently crawled your way onto his lap, sliding into a horizontal position and resting your chest on the armrest to make sure your ass was front and center. You gave it a saucy wiggle, but a glance over your shoulder showed you that only triggered an aggravated tic in his jaw.

This was your first warning.

Large hands curiously roamed, gliding up the lines of your body, fingers squeezing the back of your thighs. Carefully ignoring the meat of your ass, instead drifting along the panes of your back. Your skin prickled in excitement, body eager for his touch. Impatiently, you wiggled your ass again, and this time, the hand tightened against your hip in warning.

“Spread your legs,” Namjoon demanded huskily. “Since you want to be such a fucking tease. And keep them that way.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” you joked, shifting your hips a bit so you could do as he asked. This position was a bit uncomfortable, with one armrest digging into your sternum and the other cutting into your ankles. But now that your pussy had come into play—the widening of your thighs giving him better access—it was much easier to ignore all that.

“You think this is funny?” He shook his head disapprovingly. “We’ll see if you keep laughing. Count them.”

You were about to ask what you were supposed to count when his hand came down. The crack of palm meeting skin reverberated throughout the room, the yelp you let out a mixture of surprise and pain.

“I don’t hear you counting,” Namjoon admonished, tone mocking. “And every time I don’t hear you, we’re going to start over.” And with that, he struck you a second time, in the same spot, making you grit your teeth and dig your fingers into the armrest against the sharp sting.

“One!” you blurted before he could make good on his threat. Namjoon hummed in approval, giving your asscheeks a squeeze before swatting you again, this time a bit harder, and on the opposite cheek. You flinched. “Two!”

You weren’t new to this—you had allowed a few previous partners to spank you before. But right away you knew this was different. The times you had been spanked before had been playful—Kim Namjoon was very obviously not here to play games. The force he was hitting you with? Your ass had not felt a fury like this since you were six.

A punishment indeed.

But your mama raised no bitch—you weren’t going to break. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was getting to you. So you started steeling yourself for each strike, taking each whack with little more than a grunt of its number.

“Not so funny now, is it?” You didn’t answer right away, too focused on your breathing. This didn’t sit well with Namjoon, who pressed into your rapidly bruising flesh at your silence, making you hiss. “I’m talking to you.”

“No,” you acquiesced with a shuddery exhale.

Namjoon spanked you again, holding you down as your body reflexively tried to jolt out of his hold.

“F-five.”

“No, what?” Smack.

“…six.”

He roughly grabbed you by the chin, forced your head to turn so that you would meet his eye. “No, what, _____?”

It took you a few moments to understand what he wanted from you, your brain too scrambled from all the stimulation. “No, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he growled, his grip on your face tightening before he let go. “You will address me properly or I’ll start over. Keep counting.”

Crack.

“Ungh! Seven!”

“Keep your legs open,” he snapped, pushing at your knee until you got the message and did it yourself. You hadn’t meant to close them in the first place, but it had been an apparent reflex to his blows. “You want to act like a slut? Keep yourself spread.”

You gasped at the word, shocked to hear it come from a man you previously assumed to be meek. But while degradation had never really been your thing, something about the nonchalant way he had said it stoked the building flames in your gut.

He met your gaze head on, eyes completely blown. A hand drifted inward, fingers ghosting over your damp lips, and you couldn’t help the whine that left you at the feeling. He was touching you right where you wanted him, but it was not enough.

Namjoon chuckled darkly, apparently amused by your building desperation. He trailed teasing fingers up your slit one more time before rearing back and delivering his next blow, the flat of his hand landing right near your clit.

“Fuck!” you screeched, all of your nerve endings in overdrive. No one had ever hit you there before, and while your body’s immediate reaction was to try to curl into itself to shrink away from the pain, you also found yourself almost immediately pushing back into his hand, teeth locking on the fabric of the armchair.

“How many?” Namjoon prompted, carefully rubbing the swollen area to ease the sting.

“Eight,” you moaned, rocking into him.

“Eight?”

“Eight, Daddy.”

“Just so you know, I’m being really lenient with you right now,” Namjoon mused. He hit you again, this time back on one of your flaming asscheeks. “I already told you I don’t like to repeat myself.”

Your back bowed at the impact, breath shuddering at the resulting rush of endorphins. “N-Nine. I’m sorry, Daddy.”

He scoffed. “You’re not sorry. Look at you, making a mess all over me. Humping me like a bitch in heat.” He wasn’t wrong—you kept pushing back, delighting in the attention of his hands and the delicious friction that resulted every time you dragged your clit across his pants. “If I didn’t know any better”—another swat, a whimper of ten by you—“I would think that you actually like being disciplined.”

“Mmmm.” You were starting to become delirious, your body so wound up from all the stimulation that all you could think was more, more. “Hurt me, Daddy.”

Namjoon paused, eyes darkening as he considered you and the way you were still eagerly rutting against him, everything about you screaming your need. Without a word, he used one hand to keep you still as the other rained vengeance across your already blistering skin. One after another the final blows came, alternating between both of your reddened cheeks, and you could do nothing but sob out their respective numbers, unable to do much more than take it. By the time you finally hit fifteen, you couldn’t see, tears and saliva smeared across your face.

“There you go,” Namjoon murmured, gently smoothing a hand down your inflamed skin and making you flinch at the resulting sparks. “Good girls take their punishments.”

You didn’t reply, dazed and twitching and euphoric. But despite your mind still reeling, it still didn’t escape your notice that while you were stark naked and a blubbering mess, this man hadn’t even bothered to remove a single item of clothing.

Without warning, he slid a finger into you, the resulting squelch audible even to you. You whined, surprised at the amount of pleasure that rippled through you at the small action. But the moment you tried to rut back into his hand, the finger was gone, idly wiping residual slick onto the insides of your already sticky thighs.

“Are you going to keep being good?”

“Yes Daddy,” you whined. Pliant and agreeable, any defiance you may have previously had smacked right out of you. Too focused on how ridiculously close you somehow were to cumming.

“Then why don’t you get up for me, baby girl.”

You scrambled off his lap eagerly, wobbling to your feet and wincing against the sting of doing so. Movement across the street drew your eye, and dazedly, you realized it was someone in their kitchen, rooting around in the fridge. They were in easily visible, and that just reminded you that so were you, naked as the day you were born and getting spanked like a petulant toddler.

The man casually shut the door and wandered into another room with his drink, no longer in view. You could only assume that he hadn’t noticed your midday activities, but who’s to say no one else did while you were…preoccupied.

The feeling of hands cradling your face immediately turned your attention back to Namjoon, looking down at you with dark eyes. His thumbs gently swiped away your tears. “Get on the bed,” he murmured.

You didn’t have to be told twice, quickly moving to do as you were bid. Gingerly, you sat down on the edge of the mattress, awaiting his next instructions.

Namjoon pulled his sweatshirt over his head, and he must have grabbed his shirt too, because the next thing you know, he was standing before you half-naked, muscles rippling under beautifully tanned skin as he uncaringly tossed the clothing away. You could only gape at him, stunned at how well he had been masking just how beefy he was underneath his preferred wardrobe of oversized clothing. He was the tallest of his brothers, and, judging by the circumference of his biceps, also likely the one who spent the most time in the gym.

His lips quirked knowingly at your blatant gawking, but quickly smoothed back out in displeasure. “Turn over,” he demanded, reaching for the band of his pants and sliding them down his hips. The emergence of a powerful thigh vindicated your newfound belief that he was a man who never missed leg day.

You paused uneasily, doubtful your ass could handle any more of its previous treatment. Still, you complied, repositioning yourself on your hands and knees away from him. Movement caught your eyes, and it was then that you realized that there was a mirror on the other side of the room, likely there to help him get dressed in the morning. But its positioning meant that you could conveniently see him approach you from behind, a rapt expression on his face. Even if you couldn’t see him, you would have been able to feel him, anticipation ensuring his approaching body heat was almost scorching.

And dear god was his cock big. You weren’t sure why you were even surprised at this point—what, with being intimately aware of exactly what his brothers were packing—but you couldn’t help the way your eyes widened when you saw it, adrenaline rushing through your veins in preparation of what was to come.

His hands were on you without warning, squeezing your ass with both hands and making you reflexively whimper when it smarted. Namjoon just tutted, a large palm pushing between your shoulder blades until your chest hit the mattress.

For a few moments, he didn’t do anything, content instead to simply admire his handiwork in silence. You wondered what exactly had him so transfixed. You wondered if your bruising was starting to bloom in the shape of his hands.

Spread wide like this, vulnerable under such a critical eye, you felt your insecurities start to creep up. Time stretched between you, only serving to stoke your nerves further. You shivered, resisting the increasing urge to close your legs.

You felt the mattress dip with the addition of his weight. Then, finally, light as butterfly wings, you felt his lips against your backside. Over and over, he brushed gentle apologies into the tender skin, the promising warmth of his breath against your already dripping core making you clench. You were so focused on the tease of his mouth that the finger he slipped into you caught you by surprise, an unexpected groan shooting from your throat.

Namjoon rewarded your reaction with another finger. His hands were big and fingers long, resulting in a rather delicious stretch, but you were so wet at this point that his digits slipped in and out of you with relative ease, the way he made sure to curve them down to brush your g-spot causing your thighs to tremble. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, working you open just slowly enough that he was starting to drive you insane with need.

“Please,” you moaned into the sheets, beyond horny.

“Hmm?” Namjoon asked mildly, tone deceptively bored. But you knew better. His fingers snapped forward in a single, forceful thrust, knocking another whine out of you before returning to their previous tortuous pace. “Did you want something?”

“D-Daddy…”

“What did I tell you before?” he chided you. “You need to use your words.”

It was driving you mad. He was carefully massaging you open, hitting all the right spots, but it wasn’t enough. Was just enough to make you hover over the precipice, but refuse to let you drop. Just enough to make you want to burst into frustrated tears.

You weren’t too proud to beg.

“Fuck me,” you whined, pushing your hips backwards and forcing him deeper. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling. “Please Daddy, fuck me, I’ve been so good for you, please fuck me, please—”

“So needy,” Namjoon tutted disapprovingly. “You act like you didn’t just get fucked a couple days ago. Are you that hungry for dick?”

“For your dick, Daddy.”

“Hmm.” His fingers abruptly left you, your hips reflexively chasing them in protest. “You need to be careful what you wish for.”

You started to lift onto your elbows, fully intending to turn to face him and plead your case, but he merely pressed down on your back until you were face down again, hips arched exactly the way he wanted. Roughly, Namjoon guided your knees further apart, widening the space between your thighs. The position felt a little awkward, but you forgot all about your discomfort when you felt him dragging his cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices. And then he was pushing forward.

The intense pressure of the head breaching you made you shudder out a gasp. Namjoon’s hand drifted across your hip, silently rubbing reassurances into the skin. “Relax, baby,” he murmured. “You’ve been so good. Come on, relax for me.”

While you were starting to get familiar with the initial burning pressure of getting fucked by a ridiculously large cock, you being face down, ass up meant that you were going to feel every inch of him, deep, deep. You gripped the sheets beneath you, focusing on the heat of his hand as it drifted inward and circled your clit, on your breathing as he slowly separated your walls.

“There you go.” He pressed a few reassuring kisses into the damp skin of your neck, his fingers still tracing figure eights. You reflexively bucked, your body sucking more of him in.

Namjoon kept rubbing as he slowly rocked against you, his shallow thrusts gradually becoming deeper as your pussy started to invite the intrusion. In no time at all, he was in to the hilt, hips gently rolling against yours, his cock scraping against your spongy nerves.

You jolted as if electrocuted, ass snapping back wantonly. “Ohhhhh god. Shit. Moremoremore—”

Abruptly, all movement stopped. Alarmed that your road to ecstasy was being blocked again, you desperately turned your head to the mirror to see what the hold up was. Namjoon was staring down at you, jaw clenched.

“There you go again,” he growled. “Only thinking about what you want.”

“I didn’t mean t-to—” you stuttered, brain scrambling to string words into a sentence. Anything that sounded like a valid excuse. Anything to make sure he didn’t stop.

“You need to learn when to watch that pretty mouth of yours, or it’s always gonna get you in trouble.”

“Nam—” You cut yourself off with a nervous swallow.

He cocked his head at your near slip-up, palming your ass roughly in response. The resulting stinging was an immediate reminder of what occurred the last time you misbehaved. “Such a greedy thing. I thought you had learned your lesson, but obviously not.”

Your orgasm hovered tauntingly within reach—so close that that was all you could think about. So close that you would do anything to convince him to let you cum. “Daddy, please!”  

“Hm.” He didn’t seem to be affected by your begging, immovable as a brick wall as he continued to idly squeeze your behind. His control was insane, you noted. His cock was buried deep within you and still he did nothing to appease you. Only willing to move when he was ready to.

But luckily for you, as crazy as his control was, he was still a man at the end of the day. His patience only went so far, and with the way your pussy kept pulsing around him, primed and ready to finally lock down, it didn’t wasn’t long before he finally broke, a seemingly involuntary pump of his hips making you both shudder in response.

Apparently done with his game, Namjoon leaned forward until his chest was flush against your back. You gasped, nerves buzzing with the promise of something finally happening. Of the thrill of his body covering you completely, of the peculiar sense of comfort and security that came with willingly giving up all control.

And then he pulled out.

The force with which Namjoon rammed back into you knocked the breath straight out of your lungs, the legs of the bed frame scraping loudly against the floor at the violent snap of his hips. It was only when his strokes continued their fevered intensity that you realized exactly what you had done.

It was too much. It was too much and too good, all vocabulary leaving you as you wailed nonsensical sounds instead. Your body was starting to inch up the bed a bit every time his pelvis slammed into you, but Namjoon was having none of it, pushing down on you with more of his bodyweight to ensure you couldn’t escape, even unintentionally. A hand reached up to give one of your nipples a rough twist before disappearing again to bury itself between your legs. He pressed hard circles into your clit, hips unrelenting.

“Cum,” he growled in your ear, and, ever the good girl, you immediately did, fingers tightly gripping the sheets, mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm finally rocked you to the core.

Everything was tight, tight, your toes curling with the force of it, and Namjoon kept fucking you through it, not slowing down his frenzied pace in the slightest, even as your pussy attempted to lock him in place. Even when it was finally over and you were left gasping and trembling in the aftershocks. Namjoon fucked you like a machine set on autopilot, and he refused to relent.

Sensitivity had your hands scrabbling for purchase, and your futile clawing made the corner of the fitted sheet actually pop off the mattress. Your hips tried to scoot forward in an instinctive attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation, but Namjoon only tightened his grip on you.

“Stop running and take what you begged me for,” he snapped, reaching up your body. Fingers rooted themselves in your hair, yanking just enough that you reflexively moved to your elbows to support the resulting strain he was putting on your neck. While the hold on your hair kept you right where he wanted you, it also provided him with just enough leverage to continue to fuck you hard and deep, his balls smacking into your ass with increasing rhythm.

You let out a choked sob, unable to do anything else but let him batter your pussy into smithereens. To let him use you as he pleased, toss you around to his liking like nothing more than a ragdoll. “Oh godddd…”

“Take it,” he repeated through labored breaths. Rather suddenly, his bodyweight was gone, and before you could process why, so was the grip on your hair. Instead, his hand hooked around your neck and swiftly tugged you upright, once again pulling you flush against his sweaty chest.

Reflexively, you reached back and held onto his bicep, trying your best to keep your balance when he was still pounding you from below. To keep your sanity.

With one hand tight on your hip and the other around your neck, Namjoon had you right where he wanted you. Normally, the idea of being choked would make panic race through your veins, but he wasn’t doing that, exactly. Just resting his hand there with only enough pressure to keep you still, to use as leverage for his thrusts. Still, the warm weight of his palm, the loss of control, the whisper of danger—it made you tingle all over. Just that quickly, he was going to make you cum again.

Though you were still overstimulated and still overwhelmed, the promise of rapture had you leaning into the feeling, allowing lust to pull you under its fervid waters. Even in your delirium, you heard it when his breathing hollowed, noticed when his grip on you tightened a bit. And your cunt fluttered excitedly in anticipation.

“Inside,” you groaned. “Please, I want all of it.”

Namjoon answered you with a snap of his hips that bordered on violent, your eyes rolling back at the resulting euphoric burn.

You whined, desperate. “Inside inside inside inside inside—”

He came with a long, guttural groan, panting hot against your neck as his cock pulsed and spilled rope after rope of his hot seed inside you. You vibrated at the feeling of it, moaning right alongside him.

It took a few moments for him to return to his body, to come to his senses. He completely released his hold on you, but when he shifted backwards so he could sit properly, your exhausted body ended up going with him, needing him for support. Namjoon didn’t seem to mind, pulling you to sit more comfortably between his legs. “Look,” he murmured, tapping the side of your thigh to get your attention. He gestured across the room.

Barely lucid, you followed his direction to the previously forgotten mirror. The two of you were sitting in bed, sticky and exhausted.

Namjoon slowly pushed your knees apart, your reflection revealing the treasure between. “Look at how messy you are.”

You shivered when he spread your puffy lips with two fingers. Cum, already starting to leak out of you, trickled down his digits and glistened in your pubic hair. He was right—it was messy, and with your thighs spread like this, it was easy for both of you to see the way your pussy actually clenched at the sight of how sloppy you were.

Namjoon froze for a moment, eyes darkening with this newfound knowledge. “So that’s why you wanted it inside. You like that, huh?” Lazily, he rubbed his own mess up and down your slit, instantly gratified by your resulting whimpers. “You know, for someone who begged me for it, you sure are wasting it.”

Without warning, he sunk three fingers into your sopping cunt.

“Fuck!” You jolted, a hand reflexively circling his wrist, but not doing anything to stop the way he pumped the digits in and out of you, pushing the mess back inside. The resulting orgasm took you by surprise and you thrashed in his hold, moaning at the intense pleasure rippling through you and riding his fingers like you were possessed.

Namjoon only stopped when your hips stopped rolling, when you collapsed against him. His fingers left you with a squelch, slick and shiny with both of your releases. He pressed them against your bottom lip and you reflexively opened your mouth, sucking them all clean.

For a little while after, the two of you sat in silence, just like that. Namjoon’s embrace was warm and comforting, the rhythm of his breaths slowly lulling your weary body into dreamland. You were so out of it that you barely noticed when he murmured something against your hair, the words slipping past your sluggish consciousness too quickly to register. You hummed a nonanswer, eyelids heavy, but became a bit more alert when his arms were unwinding from around you and he was moving away. The bed dipped at the loss of his weight.

Your expression must have shown your displeasure, because Namjoon sent you a small, reassuring smile in response. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, leaning down to catch your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle, deepening the longer it went on, and he pulled back with an amused chuckle when your arms started to wrap around his neck. “Stop trying to seduce me. I’ll be right back.”

“I wasn’t trying to seduce you,” you pouted, but you certainly didn’t want him to leave you, either. He crooked a disbelieving eyebrow at you as he left the room.

Namjoon’s large body had been like a furnace. It was a bit more chilly without his form wrapped around yours, but as you timidly sat there alone, you realized you weren’t just rubbing your arms for heat.

“Here.” He was back before you could start to think too hard about anyone in the building across the street. He handed you a glass of water, crouching down so he could be eye-level with you. “Drink this for me.”

You accepted the glass obediently, distracted by the way he rested his hands on your knees, idly drawing circles with his thumbs.

“How do you feel?” he asked, eyes roving your form carefully.

“Tired,” you answered honestly after a few sips.

“That’s normal. I’m sure this was a lot for you.” He groaned, running a hand through his damp hair and making it stick up oddly. It was cute. “Ahhh, look what you made me do! I did not intend on doing this today. I was really looking forward to seeing the sea turtles.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his earnestness. “Sorry.”

“You should be. I’m bummed I didn’t get to introduce you to Barry.”

“Barry?” you asked curiously.

“Barry the Barracuda. He’s a well-known local and is on a good amount of the aquarium merchandise.”

“Oh no,” you deadpanned, handing him your empty glass. “I’m so sad I didn’t get to meet a giant, scary fish with way too many teeth for comfort. Damn.”

Namjoon laughed, the sound loud and endearing and infectious enough that you laughed too. He kissed you again, pulling back this time before you could try any more of your funny business. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You groaned, too exhausted to even contemplate doing anything else but laying down and taking a nap. But Namjoon just laughed again, easily gathering you up in his arms and carrying you to an adjoining room that you then learned was the master bathroom.

The master bathroom that was bigger than your entire apartment and housed the biggest bathtub you had ever seen. Even your increasing fatigue was no match for your astonishment.

“Here you go,” Namjoon hummed, carefully setting you down in the sweet-smelling bubbles. Even sitting down, the water went up to your neck, the temperature just bordering on too hot for your newly sensitive skin. He must have noticed your slight discomfort, because he continued, “It’ll feel really good in a second.”

He was right, of course. Your could already feel your body acclimating, tension you didn’t know you were holding seeping out of you. To your surprise, Namjoon climbed in after you, the tub big enough to seat you both comfortably. There was no way it wasn’t custom made.

Like this, wrapped in Namjoon’s arms and tranquil waters, it was easy for the tiredness to return. You made yourself comfortable, leaning against his chest and letting him rub soap into your skin. He bathed you in silence for a bit, his gentle ministrations making your eyes flutter shut in complete relaxation. But it was the sudden sound of his voice—quiet, but rumbling—that stalled your inevitable slumber. “Are you okay?”

You hummed, eyes still closed.

But he wasn’t satisfied. “I need you to use your words.”

The same thing he kept telling you earlier. Now, though, it sat differently on his tongue. Less authoritative, more concerned.

“Yes,” you humored him.

“…Did I hurt you?”

You shifted a bit as you considered your answer. “Yes. But I liked it.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “We need to work together to find your limits. And for this to work, I have to be able to trust that you’ll use your safe word when you need it.”

“Namjoon.” You turned your head to throw him a reassuring smile, pushing his bangs away from his concerned eyes. “I liked it.”

He regarded you silently, looking for any sign of a lie. Finally, he clasped your hand in his. “Promise me you’ll use it.”

“I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“And I’m sorry we missed the dolphin show.”

He let out a puff of laughter, breath warm on your neck. The two of you didn’t leave the tub until the water started to grow cold.

“Are you okay, _____?” Jimin asked at dinner a few days later. He had been shooting you worried glances for the past twenty minutes, but had apparently hit his limit and couldn’t help but voice his concern. “Why are you sitting like that?”

“I, um, fell,” you replied lamely. You nervously stuffed a fry in your mouth, hoping he would drop it, and when his eyes narrowed suspiciously, quickly tacked on, “Tripped over a curb. I think I bruised my tailbone.”

“Ah, you need to be more careful,” Jimin chided you, but it didn’t escape you that there was a pensive pinch in his brow for the rest of the meal.

⇢ previous | next | series masterlist 

[seishirology]

OILVER AIKU + BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS

hey kids, I have arrived. honestly i'm a little dead from finals, midterms, and the second wave of finals :DD today I bring u oliver aiku whom I thought was 32 when I first saw him even though he was in team called U-20 which obviously means under-twenty. anyways yeah guys includes ; aiku A/N : my opinions only!! btw i was wondering if u guys read the latest chapters, if not fear not it's okay :> warnings : mentions of cheating, calorie counting/EDs masterlist

OLIVER AIKU

I'm gonna be very honest but I do not think you'll have a good time with this man. If anything he's probably the biggest whore in the whole blue-lock series. like he gives me serious toji fushiguro vibes but more polite yk. but y'all do know he's a womanizer right...? honestly i'm pretty sure he isn't picky either so... please prepare yourself for heartbreak if he cheats on u bc he probs will

first thing is first. he is not shy, he's the type to kiss you in front of babies, old people, and especially in front of his teammates and anyone from the blue lock project. he'll hold your hand every time he can, and probably posts on his socials about how much he loves you. he has a whole fan account and mostly has solo pictures of you or him kissing you.

on that note, you guys will go out on dates a lot, the unlucky thing is they're probably at arcades and you almost always come across the other blue lock boys. and when they see him paying for your dates they act like it's a group activity so they don't have to pay for themselves. so that's how you two became the unofficial parents of the blue lock boys.

i might be wrong but he doesn't look broke to me. anyways that means every arcade date you guys have he spends over 200$ on you alone. that means for the games, and just to win the crane games. and then with the additional tax of the kids.

however dates also consist of picnic dates, amusement park dates, and the best dates of all, museum dates <333. when you guys go on picnic dates it's usually during the middle of summer. I personally have a head canon of oliver having the worst pollen and maple allergies so like whenever he goes out during the spring and fall he dies a little. But he goes out on hot days during the summer when there's little wind because he doesn't want to die and he just wants to spend the day peacefully with u.

amusement park dates are fun and all but he loses you a lot because he's always going in and out to go to the bathroom because he drank his juice in twenty-five minutes. he the type to go to the carnival everyday when it's that time of year.

and museum dates are the cheesy dates they're portrayed as. you go in without very many expectations, and you leave with knowledge. he'll probably try to flirt with you while you guys look at the paintings, sculptures and pottery.

i feel like he probably talks a lot about his likes and interests. I mean he's a listener as well but when it's empty and silent he takes it upon himself to fill in the silence and talk about how much he loves soccer, or you, or how much the latest game he played was really hard, or the last soccer match or practice he was at wasn't exciting. he likes to talk to you.

if he ever cheated on you I don't think he'd be too slick about it. rather he'd drop hints here and there if he actually liked you. he would let you walk in on him and his side kissing, run into you on a date with his side, and honestly he'll just try to let you down as softly as he can. unless you're into polyamory but even then I'm not so sure he can settle with just one lover.

probably has a strict palate, and more than likely counts calories. it's not because of an ED but rather simply because he doesn't want eat things that will do him harm and therefore prevent him from playing soccer. also he doesn't eat fast food except for wendys chicken nuggets and fries. also he breaks this rule during carnival season because he can't keep his wallet away from the fries they sell.

has the worst sleeping habits ever. if you guys are sharing a bed he's push you off eventually. he starts on his side of the bed, but as the night goes on he rolls over in his sleep, kicks, sleep-talks, drools, and steals the blanket. if you guys are napping on a couch together and you're in his arms he's gonna hold you for like five minutes then let you go and turn around, pushing you off. if you ever have a sleepover with him bring a sleeping bag because you'll be sleeping on the floor even if you start on the bed.

knows other people's business like its his own, and he will tell you everything that happens at his practices, simply because he doesn't give a care in the world and it's not like they'll know about it anyways. he told you that nagi's feet and his soccer ball smell the same, rin trash talks his brother while sleeping, and isagi gets no bitches but it's not like that's new to you.

overall i'd give him a 3/10 because he's a cheater and cheaters should never be given a second chance. anyways go get somebody better sweets <3

[radiorenjun]

my first and last || huang renjun

¤ pairing : huang renjun x reader

¤ genre : fluff, slight crack, major angst, romance, drama, slight fantasy! au, slight coming of age!au, first love!au, slight 1880s!au, adventure!au, painter!renjun x street singer!y/n. runaway!au

¤ synopsis :  Huang Renjun was born on the coldest day on earth, which causes his heart to be frozen solid, requiring a replacement. The makeshift Doctor, Madam Wendy, who provides midwifery and medical services to the poor and the desperate of Edinburgh, grafts a miniature cuckoo clock in order to save it.

However his newfound cuckoo clock heart was so fragile that it could end him in a terrible fate of death if he does not follow the three rules said doctor had provided for him. One of which was he must never fall in love. Do come and enter this adventure through Renjun’s eyes as he falls for a street singer who hates wearing glasses despite of her poor eyesight.

¤ warnings: character death, HEAVY angst, mentions of blood, loss of family member, reader has terrible eyesight and is painfully oblivious, Madam Wendy mentions about her abortion, maybe some swearing (do people even swear in the olden days?), historical inaccuracies is sexy, heartbreak, renjun is mentally exhausted, mentions of taking ones life (once), adults smoking, reader wears glasses at the end. shakespeare shaming because i have a grudge against that man. hISTORICAL INNACURACIES. Renjun gets slapped by Wendy once, renjun gets hypothermia. i feel like this was quite rushed idk

¤ word count : 29.2k

¤ heavily inspired by  La Mécanique du cœur (the movie, not the novel because I’m not that cruel)

¤ playlist: my everything - nct u, instagram - dean, wayo - bang yedam, francis forever - mitski mitski, anxiete - pomme, faded in my last song - nct u, line without a hook - ricky montgomery, moi cest - camelia jordana, my first and last - nct dream, beautiful time - nct dream, 

¤ a/n: special thanks to @lebrookestore​​ for making this sexy header

‘Love. What does that feel like?' Renjun would always wonder. 

As his paint brush strokes the canvas, eliciting a bright yellow mark on the object, Renjun continued to stare into his painting with a void of emotion. Whenever the occasional question 'what does it feel like to love or to be loved?' pops up in his mind, he would often furrow his brows and purse his lips in a small pout in confusion at the thought. 

Renjun didn't know what it felt like to love, for his caretaker, Madame Wendy, had always told him since he was a young boy that 'love is the last thing you need in this world, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal.' Renjun didn’t care much for the aspects of love. How can he fall in love when he doesn’t even know what love is? What does it feel like to feel love? How can you feel love?

If you take one small glance at Huang Renjun, you would instantly have the assumption that he was a rather cold-hearted, emotionless young boy. Eyes so icy cold and void of emotion, it could send shivers down your spine. Though, fortunately for everyone else, it was quite rare of the young boy to walk out of his home. Some might say that he would step out of his home ‘once in a blue moon’ or whenever the sun shone brightly over the old town, which was quite rare considering it had been raining frequently these past few months in Edinburgh, France.

However, what they didn’t know was that the reason behind his infrequent appearance was quite tragic. He was an unfortunate young boy, really. Only a few people have known this, but long long ago, a sudden harsh snowfall hit his town on the day he was born. It was recorded as the coldest day on earth, for the snow had frozen everything in its path including the poor boy’s heart. Quite literally, not figuratively. 

Renjun’s biological mother had journeyed through the cold town to the house up the steeple. Rumors say, the quote unquote ‘witch’ of the town, who specialized in the medical department with her own unique ways that left doctors skeptical and poor. From what his caretaker had told him, she was holding her belly throughout the long journey as she tried her best to endure the cold without slipping on the frozen concrete. Muttering how if she could, she would’ve kept her child in her tummy safe and sound from the cruel world. 

How she slipped and fell unconscious in front of his current caretaker’s house with her tears frozen on top of her cold cheeks, how she was brought in and taken in just in time to warm up to gain consciousness and go through the birth process. He remembered being told how the moment he was born, he had to undergo intense surgery immediately for he almost didn’t survive. He remembered being told that his heart had turned cold. 

“Cold, not Gold, Renjun. A heart made of ice. As in cubes not cream,” as his caretaker would say. 

Since donors weren't available at the time as it was already way past midnight, he needed surgery before his heart stopped beating under the hard exterior of the ice growing around his heart. Luckily for him, Madame Wendy had improvised one with her excellent expertise. She built a small clock the size of her palm that nearly covered his whole chest at the time. Considering she was known for being a witch in town, (even though she tried to explain a countless amount of times that she was a mere mechanic with a medical degree) she miraculously provided him with a fragile heart made from scratch. 

However, the night of his birth was also the night his mother had decided to leave him with Madame Wendy, convinced that she would make a better mother for Renjun that she could ever have. It was quite a tragic tale. However, Renjun didn’t think much of it. Nor did he feel any sort of upsetting emotions like longing, curiosity and sadness. Why would he? He doesn’t even remember what his biological mother had looked like. He doesn’t know how to feel anymore other than the faux happiness his mother had taught him how to feel to ease the numbing feeling in his hollow, ticking heart held nothing but dust. 

A heart that was purely made out of strong wood, cogs and screws. One that makes soft, calming tick tocks that goes along with the soft pitter patters of rain drops with every beat, one that makes cuckoo’s every time it’s arrow struck 12. One that needs winding every single day with a golden key his caretaker had provided him ever since he was born. One with ironically three rules that he should always follow on a day to day basis. 

-

“Recite those rules once again, Renjun,” she ordered as she buttons up her adoptive child’s white shirt up to his neck. “Do I have to? I’ve been reciting this for years now,” Renjun would whine, looking down at his mother’s loving hands as she flicked her forehead softly with a face void of emotion. “It’s for your own good, Renjun. I can’t have you forgetting something this important, you know very well that your life depends on these three rules.” She tugged on the collar of her child’s shirt down. 

“Before I let you run off to town with me, I prefer that your heart would be much stronger,” she swiped her fingers through Renjun’s hair, swefting it to the side to make it neat. “Every beat of your heart is a minor miracle. You’re a fragile piece of work, far more fragile than glass,” the older woman explained, laying her hands on the boy’s shoulder with a grim expression. “I know,” Renjun replied with a sigh, shrugging his shoulders to release tension in his body. 

He sighed again, the young boy looked up at the ceiling to avoid his mother’s cold stare. “Firstly, never touch the hands of my heart,” he began, letting out an annoyed sigh as he felt his mother tucking his small key into the pocket sewed on his chest. “Yes, what else?” Madame Wendy asked, kneeling down to look at the child in the eye. “Keep your temper under control,” they recited in unison with the same emotionless tone. 

“And the last one?” 

“Whatever I do, I must never ever fall in love.” 

“Indeed, that’s why I’m so scared of letting you into town. You haven’t experienced love yet so far in your life, it is very important that you stay that way,” she said, standing up on her feet as her hand returned to Renjun’s shoulder. “I know,” he mumbled once again, looking up at his caretaker’s eyes as if to hide the fact that he wasn’t listening a total hundred percent to what she was saying. “It could be the very death of you, Renjun. Your fragile heart won’t be able to stand the emotional, mental and physical shock provoked with the feeling of love,” she explained once again, a worried expression glossing over her face.

“I know, I know. You tell me that almost everyday,” he muttered, playing with the small buttons on the clock that is his own heart. “My heart is not a toy, therefore it is not to be played with.” he almost rolled his eyes at the older woman, feeling her smack his hand away from his heart softly. “It is something that I want you to take seriously, Renjun,” she hissed, eyeing the small mechanic artwork on the boy’s chest. “How can I even fall in love when I don’t know anything about love?” 

-

To Renjun, today was like any other day of the year. The sun shining brightly against his skin, the cloudy grey sky accenting the sky’s beauty. His hair gelled to the side to reveal some of his forehead and leaving a few strands of his hair to tickle his skin perfectly, his calloused hand gripping his 60 x 90 cm canvas and his large box of acrylic paints to his side, his favorite paintbrush hanging against the skin in between his ear and his fluffy short hair. 

Spinning one of his smaller paint brushes in his free hand, right between his fingers as he walked down the sidewalk of his home town, trying to find a spot to sit and paint. It was his birthday recently, so his mother had delightfully just bought a fresh new set of acrylic paints, considering he finished them on his last painting which was the majestic dove fountain in the middle of the town less than a month ago. 

Renjun was only ten years old when his caretaker took him out to wander around town, which was on his birthday. It was then when Renjun was hitting the age of thirteen when his caretaker’s worry lessened when she saw that her child was nowhere to the point of Cupid’s next target. Therefore those annual town visits turned into monthly visits (under his caretaker’s supervision, of course) and when Renjun had turned thirteen years old, he had shown an interest in painting and drawing in his free time while Madame Wendy was working with a patient.

However, love can strike at any moment. And by the time Renjun became sixteen years old, he was finally allowed to venture into the town himself to paint landscapes and buy more art supplies at least once a week with a 5-6 PM curfew. Nothing more, nothing less. Cupid was cunning, therefore she believed that this was the best she could do. Considering he was a teenager, she couldn’t protect him as easily as she could back when he was still an infant. And that was what she had feared the most in her life. 

Renjun sighed heavily, looking around with emotionless eyes, a cold frown forming upon his lips as he leaned his chin on his palm, his elbow supporting on his thigh and his other free hand holding the canvas on top of his legs. He wondered if there was more to life than work and oil paints, eyes wandering on the busy streets filled with the latest carriages and the latest transportation vehicles. He felt as if his life had gone by boring and aimless without knowing how to express his emotions properly. Is this what life has come to in his 16 years of living? 

16 years of being almost completely isolated from this town without knowing what his caretaker was so worried about. Madam Wendy had absolutely nothing to be worried about. Renjun had witnessed love from time to time in the streets, watching a couple of different genders walking down the streets with loving expressions on their faces. Renjun could not decipher why you would be feeling such emotions. He had been venturing around town freely with his strict curfews for almost four months now. And all he’s done so far is wander around looking for something interesting to be his next muse or visit the local library to read books. 

One of the books Renjun was absolutely fascinated on reading was this book the librarian had recommended to him on his first visit, ‘The Great Expectations’ by Charles Dickens. It was a small story of a young boy named Pip who went through amazing life changing experiences and going through hardships with his rather abusive sister, his blacksmith mentor and falling in love as well with a girl named Estella. (He would always snicker whenever she comes up in a scene as her adoptive parent, Ms Havisham, ironically reminded him too much of Madam Wendy) 

He often wondered if Madam Wendy’s strong dislike towards the aspects of love was merely because of his fragile condition or was it because of something deeper? However, looking back at when he found his caretaker’s family albums which were mainly pictures of her winning awards and bragging about her medical degree, he highly doubts it. (It was still fun to imagine theories while it lasted, though!)

“Ms Havisham stares at Pip coldly, and murmurs to the girl at her side: ‘Break his heart, Estella. Break his heart!’” Renjun read, his eyes moving as he read the brief summary at the back of his book. Looking down at the cuckoo clock heart hidden under his cardigan, he clicked his tongue before chuckling bitterly to himself. “‘Break his heart’, huh? What utter bonkers, you can’t break someone’s heart. That isn’t physically possible,” he shook his head in amusement, placing his book on top of the box of acrylic paints beside him.

Just as he was about to leave and head back home, a peculiar merry tune reached his ears, causing Renjun to pause in his step, looking around to find the source with furrowed brows. If this was like those small street cat sketches he would draw in his free time, it would seem like his ears perked up in slight interest. The merry tune turned on a bright spark inside of the young boy’s chest, curiosity growing in his veins at the tune he has never heard before. It was as if the angels above had descended to the earth while playing a symphony of flutes and harmonicas, making soft high pitched catchy tunes in the air. 

Renjun felt entranced by the music, it was almost as if it was pulling him- beckoning him to come towards it, towards its source. It was as if his feet had a mind of his own as he fought with his own rational thoughts to either go back home or find the source of the beautiful merry tune. He couldn't help but walk to where it's coming from, curious of who was making such a wonderful tune. Sooner than later, he found himself walking down a small alley that led him into a steep staircase that led him to another part of his town. And with every step he took, the music grew louder and louder. Soon, finding light at the end to see the small part of town he rarely visits.

He put his palm on the dirty brick wall, ignoring the uncomfortable texture against his skin, head poking out as he tried to decipher where the majestic music was coming from. Squinting his eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight for the staircase was dim enough to be mistaken for a tunnel with the broken rooftops covering the ceiling, he took a step forward. His eyes widening slightly in awe as he watched a young man his age push away a stack of crates to reveal the true source of music. 

A young girl, who Renjun figures is around his age, was cranking up a barrel organ right in front of the fountain. A hand going in circular motions on the crank, twisting the lever as she pulls it clockwise. The hand on her hip was soon placed on her chest when the music went on, clearing her throat softly as she began to sing along and harmonize with the melody. 

Renjun stood still in his place, baffled at the daunting beauty presented before him. The girl standing a few meters away from him was singing along merrily to the tune of the phonograph record, cranking up the lever as the other townsfolk that was walking by began to gather around her, enjoying the harmony that goes along with her soothing voice and symphony of flutes and harmonicas being produced by the portable barrel organ. 

As he sat down on the last step of the staircase to listen from afar, he couldn't help but pay close attention to the lyrics coming out of her lips. His paintbrush spinning in between his fingers as his mind focused on the words of the intro, smiling idly as he began to understand the words she was trying to convey. 

My vision's not quite right

But glasses make me look a sight

Enough to give the world a fright, like a sprite wearing specs

Renjun couldn't help but tilt his head in confusion. 'A sprite wearing specs? What the hell was that supposed to mean?' he pondered to himself as he found himself sitting at the last step of the staircase, leaning his white canvas against the dusty brick walls before putting his palm against his cheek, his elbow supported right above his knees as he gazed in awe at the little singer. 

His pupils never moved away from the young girl who began to twirl around with her hands on her hips. And that girl was you. He watched as you danced and sang as if you were in your own little world, almost clumsily bumping into an old man carrying two heavy wooden crates in his arms. He chuckled at the sight, a soft smile stretching across his face as he watched the girl apologize for almost bumping into him, making Renjun realise that she might have some sort of blurred vision with how she was squinting at the older man. 

‘Or she might just be an idiot,’ Renjun thought with a deadpan expression, laying his chin on his hand as he let out a soft sigh. Renjun had been living in this town all his life, despite the fact that he rarely goes out of his own home. He’s sure that no one in this town would blast such a merry tune so shamelessly in public while dancing and singing around like a fool expressing themselves. And it was quite rare for someone to walk around with a barrel organ out of nowhere.

The music stopped midway when you let out a small yelp and clumsily tripped over your own feet as you turned to your barrel organ when the lever stopped turning, eliciting a soft giggle from Renjun. You let out a soft grunt, huffing as you ignored the slightly concerned looks of your audience. You stood up quickly, hands coming up to brush off the dust and debris off your skirt, tugging on your suspenders as you attempted to ignore the embarrassed red tint on your own cheeks as you tried to play it off as cool. 

Renjun couldn't help but giggle at the sight, his cold emotionless expression morphing into one filled with the slightest bit of amusement. Though, it quite took Renjun aback when he saw you turn your head from your barrel organ to his figure sitting a few meters away from where you were standing, turning your head rapidly to find the source, raising a brow when your eyes met Renjun's. He stopped laughing when your eyes met briefly, eyes widening in shock as he began to fidget in his place as you began to waddle over to him, dragging your barrel organ with you. 

Wait, were you going over to talk to him? How did you even acknowledge his existence? Did you hear him snicker at your silly antics? Even if you did, how could you even hear him with how busy your surroundings were?

You stood before him with hands on your hips, lips pursed at him. "What were you laughing at?" you asked, a slight pout adorning on your lips as you looked down at the boy who raised his brow. Renjun felt his words pile up in his throat, trying to think of something to say without offending or upsetting the girl before him, as his Seulgi and Irene (his caretaker’s weekly patients) had always told him that ‘once you anger a feisty lady, there’s no turning back!’. 

Now that you were standing only a few inches away from him, he couldn’t help but take a small moment to observe your appearance more clearly. Renjun's eyes couldn't help but wander towards your figure, examining your facial features in full detail. The way the sunlight reflected upon your pupils, how your figure stood out that he could barely decipher that other people were present around them. The way your dress framed your body, lips pursed with a slight pout, eyelids fluttering softly as you blinked at him as you were waiting for a response. Renjun wondered how someone could look this entrancing.

"Hello? Are you listening to me?!"

Renjun blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. His mouth opening as his pupils went back up to catch the intense glare that the girl in front of him was sending. He closed his mouth when he realized he didn't know what to say in response, his mind turning blank when he saw you quirked one of your eyebrows up suspiciously. "I don't- How can you even hear me laugh from such a distance?" Renjun's voice faltered nervously, trying to avoid your question, furrowing his brows.

Your expression lightened slightly at the nervous boy, a bright smile of your own stretching across her face. "Out of all of my five senses, my hearing has always been the best considering I don't rely much on my eyes," you shrugged, sitting beside him on the last step of the stairs. Stretching your legs out as you used your palms to smoothen your dress before crossing your arms on your thighs and turning your head to look at the boy. "I saw you staring at me from a distance, was I that good?" you smirked, raising a brow. 

“You saw me? I thought you said you can’t rely on your eyes that much?” he asked in a weak attempt to dodge your question once again. “I lied, some lady told me that you were staring at me even after this old thing gave up on me,” you huffed, kicking your foot lightly at the old barrel organ in front of you. “Stop dodging my question. I don’t want to assume that you were stalking me or something,” you turned your head back to the boy, pointing an accusatory finger at him, wiggling the finger in front of his face teasingly.

Renjun bit the inside of his cheek, a scowl forming on his lips as he rolled his eyes. "Don't get too cocky, I was just perplexed. I was baffled to see someone playing such a merry tune so shamelessly in this lousy, depressing town," he responded with a click of his tongue. "How so?" you asked, tilting your head in confusion at the boy before looking around at your surroundings. “This town doesn’t look that depressing to me. Just needed some lighting up, that’s all,” your positivity elicited another scoff from the boy.

Renjun turned to you, brows furrowed slightly, confused as to how you couldn’t see how this town was the literal epitome of the Great Depression itself. "You're not from here, are you? Come to think of it, I've never seen you around here before." Renjun asked with a curious expression, watching as a cheeky grin formed across your face. "You got me there." You let out a soft chuckle, shrugging shamelessly before gazing up at the cloudy grey sky. 

"My parents and I just moved in today. They told me to run off and go dilly dally-ing around town so as to not bother them as they set up the whole place,” you explained, nodding towards your barrel organ. “I think I made a great first impression as the new lady in town, don’t you think?” you asked, giving him a sweet smile, ignoring how Renjun gave you an affirming shake of his head to say ‘no’ bluntly. “Well I definitely knocked your socks off, didn’t I? That’s enough for me!” you exclaimed brightly, clasping your hands together. 

“You don’t even know me. I don’t even know you. And how would you know if I was moved by your oh-so-stupendous actions?” Renjun rolled his eyes sarcastically, gripping his canvas tightly as he spoke, looking down at his shoes. He had never spoken to someone his age before without being forced by his caretaker or having to meet them for the first time at Madam Wendy’s home. It was quite new for him to be talking to a lady as well, for most of them were too shy to even talk to the young lad for his cold glare struck shivers down their spine.

“The sound of your laugh was enough to convince me that my actions were indeed stupendous, good sir!” you shot back confidently, a proud smile on your face as you placed your hands on your knees. “Oh bother,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes once again at you, ignoring how the confusion he felt when the cogs and gears of his heart were speeding up in action. “I’m Y/n, by the way! It’s good to know I made a friend on my first day in Edinburgh. Perhaps my mini shameless performance wasn’t entirely fruitless!” you reached your hand out, gesturing for him to shake it.

Renjun looked at your hand for a brief moment, pupils gazing back up at your happy expression, raising a brow at you before sighing heavily. He pulled his hand from his canvas before leaning over to shake your hand gently, “Renjun. Huang Renjun,” he introduced, his tone emotionless. Your hand was warm and soft unlike his own dry ones. Your hand had small specks of dust, which he assumed were from the dusty lever of the barrel organ while his own was covered with dry acrylic paint from his previously wet canvas.

Upon the warm feeling surging through his body at the touch, he felt the tiny mechanical bird inside of his cuckoo clock heart burst out from his clock in response when his skin touched yours, the sharp wooden beak hitting the fabric of his jacket alarmingly. Thus making a small, almost inaudible ‘cuckoo’ that only Renjun (fortunately) heard.

"It’s lovely to be your acquaintance, Huang Renjun. Though, I must warn you, I might not be here for long. My family has been travelling from town to town for years, searching for something.” You told him, pulling your hand back to your side with a small shrug. “Searching? Searching for what exactly?” Renjun asked, watching your expression turned unreadable. You shrugged, leaning your cheek against your palm, your elbow supporting on your leg. “That’s the thing! I’m not quite sure, they won’t tell me.”

“A treasure chest, perhaps?” Renjun suggested, putting a hand on his chin in thought. “Perhaps so. Though, I’m searching for something myself, as well.  I haven't found it yet and I doubt I'm going to find it here." you sighed simply, leaning your head up to gaze at the cloudy sky. Eyes watching as the sun was barely visible due to the thick grey clouds layering over it, signalling that it might rain soon. 

"Well, what are you searching for exactly? Treasure? Money? Wealth is considered as a greedy sin in this town, so I don't think this is some place where you can find those." Renjun hummed, his hand going back to gripping his canvas as he felt the cogs and gears in his heart working faster than usual. Hell, he didn't know why he was so curious about this. This was none of his business, after all. This was your problem, why was he so keen on keeping the conversation going? Why was he so intrigued in a young foreign singer his age he’s just met?

You shook your head, sucking your lips into your mouth before pulling your bottom lip out in a pout. "I’m not a fool, Renjun. I'm not really interested in wealth or fortune. Though, telling you about my life goal appears to be too intimate for us, don’t you think? We just met after all. So all that I can say at the moment that what I’m searching for is for me to know and for you to find out," you send him a teasing smile, causing Renjun to frown and roll his eyes in annoyance, leaning back slightly before sending you a deadpan expression, 

"Does your extravagant search involve spectacles? You might look like you might need them, I know someone that could handle that," he mused, his lips quirking up into a teasing smirk, causing a frown to display on your face. A dead panned expression morphing on to your facial features. "I may have really terrible eyesight, but that isn't a way to talk to a lady, Renjun." you pressed your lips on to a thin line, rolling your eyes at the boy as you let out a soft laugh with a shake of your head. 

"Besides, I look terrible in them. As I said in my song, which I'm sure like all the other folks in this world that doesn't pay attention to the message I was trying to convey in my lyrics, it-"

"It makes quite a sight, enough to give the world a fright like a sprite wearing specs?"

You furrowed your brows as Renjun let out a sheepish smile with a raise of his eyebrow, teasing you as a baffled expression laid upon your features at his words. "You were saying, Y/n?" he mused, waving his hand, gesturing for you to continue with your words. Watching as your baffled expression morphed into an amused one. “Oh, that was quite charming of you, Huang,” you shot back with a flirty grin, causing the ticking of his heart to quicken against his chest, sending him small jolts of pain which he attempted to conceal with small chuckles.

"I’m surprised you were paying attention to my lyrics instead of enjoying my song like a normal human being," you huffed, pushing his face away with your palm against the side of his face, eliciting a small laugh from the boy beside you. "You really shouldn't play games with your sight though. They say a blurry vision will leave you in the dark," Renjun recited, remembering the words his caretaker had always said to him about the patients who come in their quarters using spectacles or glasses. 

You shrugged innocently. "I prefer life all a blur than to look horrendous for a living. You and your pretty face wouldn't understand. Also, I tend to forget my glasses frequently despite the fact that my parents’ constant nagging to bring them around," you , causing Renjun's jaw to drop at your bold statement. He has heard compliments about his dashing looks ever since he was a young boy from Madam Wendy’s relatives but ‘pretty’ wasn’t one of them, he should’ve brushed the compliment off and focus on the context of your words and stop acting as if he hadn’t been complimented before.

But however, something about this felt peculiarly different than the times where his family complimented him on his charming looks.

"Pretty? I haven’t heard that one before," Renjun spoke rather hesitantly, still quite bewildered that a woman his age had shamelessly complimented on his looks to his face. Yet again, said woman has a terrible eyesight so he couldn't be too sure that it was a compliment. You laughed, bumping your shoulder against his softly. "That’s the only thing you got out of my words? Are you an insecure lad, Huang?" you chuckled, giving him a slightly sheepish smile. “Are you sure you don’t need spectacles?” Renjun snapped back. 

"I’m just pushing your buttons! I assure you that even without my glasses. I can confirm that you are quite an attractive young man, and that’s saying something considering I’ve been travelling here and there for most of my life. I'm not as blind as a bat, you know." you giggled, clicking your tongue before adding on. "Besides, it won't make much of a difference, really. Even with or without glasses, I still see a very pretty boy," you joked, laughing lightly.

“Out of all the compliments you could’ve chosen, you decided upon the word ‘pretty’? Sounds quite feminine, don’t you think?” he asked, leaning his head to the side, looking at you with half lidded eyes. He realised that he didn’t mind being called pretty, he didn’t mind being complimented by you. Despite the fact that you two had just met. But he couldn’t help but wonder why you had decided to choose ‘pretty’ instead of the other synonyms of ‘attractive’. 

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing? I think pretty can be used for anything. It’s just a word after all, why do things have to be differentiated by the littlest of things? It’s just a synonym of ‘beautiful’,” you shrugged, watching as small raindrops started to pour down from the cloudy grey sky, reaching your hand out to feel the water drops hitting and wetting your skin slowly. Renjun raised his brow at you, perplexed at how you could be so nonchalant about your terrible eyesight considering his caretaker would endlessly bicker until he was forced to use spectacles until his eyes magically got better.

"What's that odd pitter patter?" you mumbled, snapping Renjun out of his thoughts once again. His eyes widened when he realised that the sound of his clock heart ticking had increased, blending well with the sound of the rain as water began to hit the surface of the concrete. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone other than close relatives about his fragile condition, so his anxiety spiked when you turned to look at him, expecting an answer. "It's the rain." Renjun replied after a moment, gulping down his nerves before turning to you. 

"Do you like the rain?" Renjun asked, gulping afterwards when he realised how your eyes softly bore into his with an unreadable expression, the eye contact making Renjun’s clock heart steam up a bit as the gears worked even faster than before. Sighing as you felt the cold breeze that comes with the rain send goosebumps across your skin, you rubbed your arms before looking back to the pouring rain. You shook your head, "getting wet? Not really."

"But the sound it makes? Yes. It always reminded me of how I used to play in the rain back when I was still in elementary school," you nodded with a soft smile. 

The sound of the church bell pierced your ears, making Renjun’s eyes go wide when he realised that the clock had struck 6 pm. Quickly, he got up to his feet, his brushes almost slipping out of his fingers as he stumbled to get onto his feet. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking up at him in confusion, furrowing your brows at the boy as he gulped nervously. “I’m fine, I shouldn’t be out this late,” Renjun shook his head, biting his lip nervously when he realized that the rain wasn’t going to halt anytime soon.

“I don’t think the rain is stopping anytime soon, I suggest you wait here momentarily if you don’t want to catch a cold,” you commented, standing up as well as you stretched your hand out once again to feel the raindrops hitting your palm, smiling softly at the nostalgic feeling that came with it. He clicked his tongue, cursing at himself for letting his curiosity get the best of him as he contemplated on running all the way back home soaking wet. He wouldn’t want to lose his new found freedom.

Muttering a small curse under his breath, he stuck his book under his canvas before hovering it over his head. “Are you going to run? It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” you exclaimed, eyes growing wide when you turned your head to see him taking a deep breath. “Pardon me, unlike you, I have curfews. My caretaker would have my head if I don’t go back home soon,” Renjun deadpanned, rolling his sleeves out as he felt shivers down his spine when the cold wind blew against his skin. 

Right before Renjun was about to take a step into the pouring rain, you grabbed on the sleeve of his shirt, holding him back. “Wait, when can we see each other again?” you asked, eyes boring holes into the back of his head. He paused, his cuckoo clock heart ticking loudly against his chest at the small action. He slowly turned back to you, furrowing his brows as he felt the small machine heat up against his skin, causing him to wince slightly. Noticing his small reaction, you quickly dropped your hand, apologizing abruptly before clasping your hands before your hand. 

“It’s just- I haven’t been in this town for very long and I really need a friend beside me. I’m not quite fond of being alone. I know we just met, but I hope that we could be acquaintances at least?” you grinned up, your bright smile sending ominous effects to his heart as he took a moment to process your words. Renjun started at your bright expression, small steam coming out continuously from his mechanical heart as the seconds went by. His eyes dart from the rain before back to your figure standing right in front of him, waiting for his answer. 

‘Acquaintances?’ 

Renjun has never had friends before. His caretaker would introduce him to her client’s children from time to time but (luckily for Madame Wendy) he had never shown an interest in making colleagues.  But for some reason, something inside him was pulling him to say yes to you. Something inside of him wanted him to try and get to know you even more. It felt wrong. It felt very wrong. But yet again, it felt so right. 

Biting his lip, he gave you a soft smile. 

“I have faith that we’ll be seeing each other again very soon.”

-

“I just think it’s quite preposterous!” you exclaimed as you laid down against the smooth surface of the fountain basin. Renjun chuckled, pressing his paintbrush gently against his wooden palette to get bits of his white paint to add more details to his painting. 

It's been a couple months since the day you met, and since then, you two have been growing closer by the day. Your friendship blossomed as the weeks went by. Madam Wendy wasn’t very fond when Renjun came home soaking wet after curfew, but she excused his actions when he told her that he just lost track of time at the library once again. A rare occurrence but it still happens from time to time, and considering Renjun barely lies to his caretaker, she believed him when he told her so.

Every once a week, the two of you would meet up on the same exact spot as the day you first laid eyes on each other. Renjun assumed that your house was closer considering you were always there first, twisting the crank of your barrel organ, kicking your feet as you sat on the fountain base to wait for him to arrive in your usual dark magenta dress (which he assumed to be the uniform of the school you were attending). The two of you would always walk around town, searching for spots to relax yourselves and talk about random things as you watch Renjun paint whatever that catches his eye. Overall enjoying each other’s company as if the two of you were in your own personal little bubble. 

“What’s so preposterous about the infamous Romeo and Juliet, exactly?” Renjun asked, chuckling as he dabbed the brush on the canvas, blending the colours of the sky on his artwork. You clasped your hands together, huffing as you scoffed at him. “Ever since my school made us all read Romeo and Juliet for the next literature exam, I just realise how horrible this trope is,” you tossed your book to the floor with a click of your tongue, hopping off of the fountain to walk closer to Renjun. 

“Do explain why you think so,” Renjun giggled, watching you dip your finger against the white paint on his palette and kneeling down to smear it against the title on the front cover of your book with a frown on your face. “Why are the females always quote unquote ‘damsels in distress’? It’s very misogynistic if you ask me!” you tsked, grabbing your book and leaning forward to show Renjun the front cover of the book. “Mister Shakespeare was truly a legendary fellow to create a piece of writing this famous, but why use poor unsuspecting 14 year old Romeo and Juliet as the female protagonist?” you complained.

“Why couldn’t it be ‘Romeo romeo, let down your hair!’ instead of ‘romeo romeo, where art thou?” It seems a bit more fair to me,” you joked, causing Renjun to furrow his brows at you. “It might be quite improper for a boy to have tremendously long hair, y/n,” he had to lay the back of his hand against his chest in an attempt to calm down his mechanic heart, feeling it heat up against his skin as he noticed how close the proximity between you were. You scoffed at the boy before you, standing up straight and letting the book hand in between your fingers.

Putting your hands on your hips, you walked in front of him, covering his view of the town. “Well it doesn’t give Mister Shakespeare a reason to give the story an unhappy ending. The despair it brings when you found out they both died in the end? Absolutely preposterous, why would anyone like books with such unhappy endings?” you added on, poking your book with a scrunched up expression, bringing a smile upon Renjun’s lips as he found your figure poking the book in your hands as endearing as watching an small innocent child playing with their own food. 

He sucked in his lip, taking a moment to admire your beautiful form. The gears in his mechanical clock worked faster as his eyes wandered to your slightly pouting soft lips, wondering how soft it would feel against his own. He cleared his throat when he felt a sharp pain scorching through his chest when he realised he was starting to imagine things, patting his chest softly as he tried to bite back a smile. 

“Maybe you just haven’t read true masterpieces,” Renjun responded after a pregnant pause, opening his little bag and pulling out the novel he’s been obsessed with for the past few months, placing it in your palms. “Read this, you can thank me later,” Renjun smiled, patting the book in your hands with a light chuckle, looking up into your eyes for a brief moment before looking back at his canvas. For he feared that if he stared into them any longer, he would simply get lost in your eyes for ages, wincing silently when his chest started to ache. 

“‘The Great Expectations’? This sounds like those tedious books my parents keep on their shelf,” you raised your brow, sitting down on the fountain again as you began to observe the book in your palms, squinting your eyes at the summary written at the back cover of the book. “‘Break his heart, Estella! Break his heart!’ That sounds so cruel of her to break an innocent boy’s heart,” you frowned, looking up at your friend with the adorable frown Renjun came to endear. 

Renjun laughed, shrugging simply as he went back to painting. His fingers twitching against the brush as he coloured white clouds on his piece, feeling your eyes curiously on his content form. “You didn’t want the female protagonist to be the damsel in distress, did you? I just simply gave you what you asked for,” Renjun shrugged, feeling his heart do somersaults as you let out a loud huff of breath, scooching closer towards him so you can begin reading the book. “I suppose so,” you muttered under your breath. 

“Do you carry books like this around with you as you paint or are you a magician who can pull out rabbits out of that bag of yours as well?” you asked jokingly, pulling the cover open and flipping to the first page. “I-Wait hold on, a magician as well?” he furrowed his brows at you, turning his head towards you and leaning his head to the side in confusion. You shot your head up, giving him a bright expression as you nodded eagerly. 

“You might have half of the town convinced that you’re some cold hearted teenager living with the ‘witch’ or the makeshift doctor, as you would like to say, but you can’t fool me, mister! We may have known each other for less than a few months but I know for a fact that you are a magician!” you pointed an accusatory finger at him, wiggling your index finger around, your fingertip hovering right above his nose before poking it with a small ‘boop; coming from your mouth. 

He furrowed his brows, gently pushing your hand away from his face with a raised brow. “Do you mind explaining why you have come to that conclusion?” Renjun asked, an amused expression spreading across his features as he dropped his brush into the cup of water set right beside him before crossing his arms against his chest and leaning back slightly. You grinned, “you’re one of the few people I’ve ever known who can paint so majestically. Have you seen your own paintings, Mister Huang Renjun?” you exclaimed, giving him a wide smile as you threw your arms up in the air. 

He chuckled, adjusting the beret on top of his head. “You don’t know many people, y/n,” he commented with a small smirk on his lips. “Let me finish before I usurp you, Huang,” you frowned, furrowing your brows and squinting your eyes threateningly at him. “I doubt that you even know what usurped means,” Renjun chuckled, shaking his head profusely at you. “Don’t doubt my low vocabulary, Renjun,” you crossed your hands, letting his book lay on your lap as he let out a soft laugh. 

“Alright, what are you going to usurp me from exactly?” he asked smugly, raising a brow at you. “That’s not the point of this conversation, what I’m saying is that you and your aesthetically pleasing art skills are magical!” you shot back in a snappy tone, avoiding the fact that you used a word that you don’t entirely know the meaning of. (considering you only heard it from your mother when she was talking to someone on the phone every morning whenever your father was off at work)  

He swore he could feel the ticking of his tock stop for a few seconds at your words. “Pardon?” he spluttered, putting his hand on his chest once again as he felt the gears in his cuckoo clock turn rapidly against his chest. “The way you carefully apply to each and every detail on every crevice of your canvas is like magic, the way you know how much paint you should apply to get just the right colours and the way you focus on shading or blending the paints together to achieve the small shadows or to adjust the lighting of the painting is just-” 

You paused before letting out a loud groan, “superb! I can’t even find the words on how to explain your magical abilities, the simplest way I can put it in my own way is that you are equivalent to a magician!” you waved your hands around at the canvas in front of the two of you, your eyes going wide in awe as you stared at the half finished piece as if it was the first time you had seen a rare jewel in person. 

Renjun’s jaw dropped as he couldn’t find the words to express how flustered he felt. However, the way his cuckoo clock began to steam up was another completely different thing. He couldn’t help but look down shy at his own paint stained hands, wondering how you could find awe in something as messy as his artwork. “And it is an absolute crime knowing that you aren’t some kind of world wide painter, your paintings are absolutely beautiful!” you exclaimed, smiling up at him as Renjun stared wordlessly into your eyes. 

He couldn’t help but notice how close you have gotten when you began on your unceremonious ramble about his art skills, he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting up your eyes and down to your plump lips. Gulping silently, he scooched back a little bit, gripping the sleeves of his button up shirt tightly as he tried to take the ticking of his heart against his ears, a fuzzy feeling overcoming the slight jolting pain in his chest as he did so.

He watched your eyes go wide at his actions, realizing that you moved too far. “Oh crumbs!” you exclaimed, taking a large step back as you realised the close proximity between you attracted attention from the people around you, eyes watching you like a hawk. Some held disgust to see two teenagers of the opposite gender oh-so-close to each other as if they were going to share a sweet kiss. Some held awe in them, adoring the sight of the two flustered beings cozying up to each other like that. Some held shock as they had never seen the mysterious cold hearted boy who lived in the little house on the steeple that close to someone before.

“I’m so so sorry!” you rambled, feeling your chest swell up as you grew flustered by your own actions. “I didn’t mean to get over excited! It’s just that I was so happy to talk about your art knowing how you don’t think much of it but I just really adore your art and the way you paint- oh god that sounds very inappropriate of me to say. What I meant was-” your short nervous ramblings were cut off when you heard Renjun’s laughter filling your ears, the angelic sound sending warm feelings into your heart. 

“Pardon me for laughing, but that really caught me off guard,” he threw his head back laughing, his cheeks flushing red from laughing too much as he held his stomach, wiping his tears afterward. Your jaw dropped at his amused laughter, embarrassment overcoming your nerves as you huffed angrily at him. “You absolute jerk, I thought I did something wrong and invaded your personal space or made you uncomfortable!” you exclaimed, putting your hands on your hips angrily, only eliciting even more laughter from the sweet boy. 

“It’s really endearing that you find my art that interesting, you really did catch me off guard with your little outburst,” he chuckled, lifting his beret off of his head before running his free hand over his hair, putting the beret back on his head afterwards. You couldn’t deny how pretty he looked with that beret, but of course, you weren’t going to admit it (again) for the sake of your own pride. “I was just expressing my opinions like a normal person, you didn’t have to laugh at me like that, you know,” you crossed your arms against your chest. 

“I wasn’t laughing at your outburst, I can promise you that!” he exclaimed, shaking his head at you, ignoring the searing pain in his chest as he stared lovingly at you. You furrowed your brows, you couldn’t help but notice the slightly sad glint on his pupils, but you chose not to ask about it, focusing on the topic at hand. “Then what were you laughing at exactly, Huang Renjun?” you asked, furrowing your brows at the brown haired boy, who smiled sweetly at you. Leaning his chin against his palm, elbow supported on his thigh. 

“I couldn’t help but laugh at how sweet you looked while talking about the things I do in front of you as if I were moving the sun and moon with my own bare hands.”

-

“You know you have a lovely smile.”

Renjun looked up from his book in alarm, eyes wide at your sudden bluntness. “Excuse me?” he coughed, releasing one hand from the book cover to lay it against the rough surface of his clock heart hidden underneath his coat. “I really like your smile,” you gave him a tight lipped smile, putting the Great Expectations book on the desk you were sitting before laying your hands over the other, placing your chin on top of them before gazing up at him with an innocent shrug. “You’re being quite expressive today,” Renjun chuckled, looking at you with a perplexed expression, his brows furrowed as he kept his hand against his heart, suppressing the little bird inside from letting out a loud ‘cuckoo!’. 

“I don’t like to lie, you know that, Renjun,” you pouted, raising your head up to give him a knowing look. Sitting up straight, Renjun shot you a boyish smile, looking back down at his book. “Why, thank you. That’s quite flattering,” Renjun chuckled, burying his nose in his book in a futile attempt to hide how flustered he felt. Putting the back of his hand against his mouth, he coughed to clear his throat before removing his hand and putting it on his nape to scratch on it nervously. “How are you liking the book so far?”

Renjun cringed at the slight waver in his tone, biting back his tongue as he heard you let out a small hum. “So far, it’s pretty engrossing. It perfectly depicts the image of a young male protagonist losing his child-like innocence through heartbreak and hardship,” you clicked your tongue, folding the corner of the page you were reading before flipping through the other pages to see how many you have left to read. “A compelling coming of age story,” you nodded with a slight shrug. 

“Though, I still don’t understand why you recommended me this book,” you closed the book and placed it back down on the desk, furrowing your brows in curiosity. Renjun gave you a sheepish grin, shrugging as he went back to his own book before replying with a, “you’ll find out once you finish the book,” under his breath. You huffed in response, leaning your forehead against the hardcover of the book, letting out a dramatic sigh. He let out a silent smile, adjusting his glasses as he continued to read the last paragraph of his own book. 

Your eyes glared holes into his head as if he was going to tell you if you glared at him long enough, but you realised that he was back into his own little world now that he was fully immersed into the plot. Your eyes wandered back to the canvas on top of the desk right beside him, his set of acrylic paints and brushes gathered up into a small pile. He had just finished his latest painting of the statue of the founder of this boring town, his artwork never failed to awe you. 

“When I finally manage to finish the book, will you give me one of your artworks free of charge?” you piped up, outstretching your hand as you poked the canvas, trying to pull the large object towards you with a single fingertip in futility. Ever since you started spending your time watching Renjun paint while he listened to you rambling, you had often asked him to draw something for you for free. In which he would always reply with a brief ‘buy your own, acrylics are immensely expensive.’ before rolling his eyes and going back to painting. 

He wasn’t completely wrong. Madam Wendy always grumbled on how paint prices are constantly increasing as time goes on. And whenever Renjun would make a quick trip to the art store just to buy another bottle of white paint, he would always suppress the urge to sigh heavily in front of the kind store owner who would grin innocently (despite the fact that they know full well that they were being absolute gooses for increasing the price as Renjun was going to buy their products nonetheless.)

However it came as a shock to the both of you when he muttered a small ‘fine’ under his breath. Eyes blowing wide as Renjun slowly looked up from his book and eerily turned to you, right before he could open his mouth to retract his words, you shot up to your feet. Catching the boy off guard as you leaned over to cover his mouth with your hands. “No! You are not taking that statement back!” you exclaimed, shaking your head aggressively as you gave him a wide mischievous smile. 

Renjun furrowed his brows, eyes glaring daggers at you to let him go despite the fact that his gears were turning at a rapid speed at the feeling of your skin against his lips. “I’m not letting go unless you say yes,” you mused in a melodious tone, earning a shake of his head in response as he continued to send you his typical cold stare.

Renjun always had a really mean resting face, his eyes always managed to send cold shivers down everyones’ spines. However, there was something comforting in the way he looked at you. A familiar warm feeling blooming in your chest whenever he turned his head to look at you, even though his eyes barely held any emotion, even though his small chuckles and laughs held no genuine happiness in them, you couldn’t help but let a fuzzy feeling grow inside of your stomach. It was exhilarating.

“Come on, you probably have billions of canvases somewhere in town. Giving one away to your dearest friend shouldn’t be a problem, should it?” you whined, still refusing to remove your hand from his lips. He was internally enjoying the close proximity between you, but as the seconds went on, he knew his clock heart was going to burst out of his chest if he didn’t do something. With a small curse in his mind, he pulled your hand away from his mouth. “I would if you paid me. But considering you are currently penniless, I have to politely decline,” Renjun snickered, giving you a disgusted expression as he felt the heat around his mouth disappear into thin air. 

You frowned, pursing your lips as you sat back down on your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “How could you do this to your most beloved friend?” you mumbled under your breath, loud enough for him to hear as you kicked one of the legs of the table in front of you childishly. Renjun chuckled, “‘Beloved’ isn’t even a word I would use to describe your existence.” Now it was your turn to glare daggers into his skull. “You’re incredibly mean, it’s almost bonkers,” you scoffed. 

“I know,” he shrugged casually, pulling his chair back to stand up. “Now if you excuse me, I would like to wash up to remove whatever bacteria you have oh-so-unceremoniously blessed upon my skin,” he bowed, pushing the chair back in the table as he tugged on the cuffs of his coat, giving you a small grin. “My hands are squeaky clean, excuse me!” you retorted, putting a hand on your chest in faux offense. “Keep telling yourself that, Y/n,” he nodded, abruptly walking towards the washroom at the back of the library with a hand on his chest as the effects of his emotions finally took place inside his mechanical ticking heart. 

As soon as Renjun turned to a corner, out of your line of vision, his whole body started twitching in pain. With a shaky hand he pulled back his coat to reveal the state of his clock. The hands of his clock were turning at a rapid speed, the small bird popping out of the clock and letting out a small ‘cuckoo!’. It was steaming up. Smoke was coming out of the contraption as if it was caught on fire. He felt like his chest was on fire. Renjun leaned his back against the wall, shakily blowing the smoke away and fanning it away softly with his hand. 

What’s happening to him? 

This has never happened before. What was happening to him? Why was he in so much pain? Why couldn’t he call out for help? Why couldn’t he make any sound?

Renjun wanted to cry out in pain, his body twitched as the tiny mechanical bird popped out of his clock with a loud ‘cuckoo!’. He gasped, patting his hands around his pockets for the key to his mechanical heart. He could hear the alarming ticking sounds of his clock with every second that went by, warning him something’s going to happen if nothing is done to stop this pain as he twitched in pain once again, clutching the clock with one hand, he felt something inside the pocket of his shirt. With a small grunt of pain, he fished out the small golden key inside. 

He pulled his hand away from his clock, gasping for breath as the pain in his chest increased with every tick of his heart. He plunged the key into the small hole connecting the arrows of the clock, quickly turning it counter clockwise as the pain started to lessen. Once the pain subsided, he dropped his hand to his sides, panting in exhaustion as his eyes blew wide with fear, his gears were working at their usual pace once again. His chest felt numb, a small throbbing pain lingering somewhere inside of him. 

‘What the hell was that?’ 

His eyes were glossy as he felt his emotions overwhelm his mind. His heart felt like it was going through a spin, as if the big hand of his core was going to pop out of his skin. His bones felt weak, as if it was about to implode at any second. The cogs and springs in his clock felt like they were about to explode. 

The loud alarming ticking in his ears made him wonder if he didn’t pull out the key in time, would his cuckoo clock heart halt for good?

-

“I’ll be off now, Wendy,” Renjun announced as he hopped down the stairs eagerly, gripping his fresh, new, empty canvas to his sides with one hand and spinning one of his brushes in between the fingers of the other. “Oh, you seem in a bit of a hurry, Renjun,” a familiar voice cooed teasingly, her words followed by another giggle. Renjun paused in his step, mustering up the energy to form a small smile as he looked up at the two women giggling at him. “Good morning, Joy. Good morning, Yeri,” he greeted with a polite bow. 

Joy and Yeri weren’t related in any way to Madam Wendy, but they are regular patients who would drop by weekly. And as far as he knew, they were one of the very few people who knew about his fragile condition (which is probably why they visit so often). “You look brighter than usual, what’s gotten you in such a rush, young lad?” Yeri grinned, sipping on her tea as she crossed her leg over the other with raised eyebrows. 

“It’s just a small trip to town, I need to buy more acrylics as well,” Renjun lied through his teeth, feeling the gears in his heart work faster at the thought of meeting you at your usual spot. “You haven’t had breakfast yet, Renjun,” Wendy spoke up, attracting the attention of the three in the room with pancakes stacked on three individual plates. “Do sit down! It’s been quite a while since you had a chit chat with your lovely aunts!” Joy giggled, patting the extra seat beside her before looking at her friend, who nodded in agreement. 

“I really shouldn’t interrupt-” 

“Renjun, go sit down,” Madam Wendy coaxed, placing a hand on his shoulder and nodding towards the empty spot on the sofa. Renjun looked back at his caretaker before sighing heavily, placing his canvas and brushes on the table near the entrance door and walking to sit on the empty spot the women had saved for him. “I’ll be upstairs cleaning up, if you need me,” his caretaker informed before exiting the living room, leaving her adopted son with the other two women in the room. 

“Okay, she’s gone!” Yeri exclaimed in a rather quiet tone before grabbing her fork and looking back at the teenager sitting beside them. “So how are you, honey? I just realised we didn’t even get to greet you last week considering you’ve been so busy lately,” Yeri hummed, shoving a spoonful of pancakes into her mouth as she spared a glance at Renjun. “Indeed! I assume you found something interesting in your great adventure in the outside world,” Joy giggled with an enthusiastic nod, causing Renjun’s eyes to widen. 

Renjun let out a small chuckle. “You two make it sound as if I was a protagonist of some weird story,” he mused, digging into his own stack of pancakes as he felt a warm feeling in his stomach at the memory of the day you first met. “Don’t beat around the bush and tell us!” Joy rolled her eyes at the younger boy, grabbing her cup of tea and pulling it to her lips. “How was this great adventure you’ve discovered?” she asked, her eyes flickering from her tea to Renjun briefly. 

Renjun bit his lip, scanning the room to ensure that Madam Wendy was nowhere in sight. He knew he could trust these two, considering the countless times he’s gotten away with his lies and rants. He bit his lip, glancing down at his hands nervously before giving his aunts a genuine smile. “It was fabulous,” he sighed dreamily, a sheepishly wide smile stretching across his lips as he took another bashful bite of his pancakes. “Tell all! Tell all! Don’t miss any details!” Yeri squealed. 

“What made it all so fabulous?” Joy whispered, her eyes peering curiously at the boy who appeared to be in a dreamy state. “A little singer with glasses which she won’t wear,” he replied almost instantly without any hesitation, a little bit too fast for his liking. “She isn’t all that, is she?” Yeri gasped, leaning back slightly in shock to hear her little Renjun was talking about someone and not something. 

He shot up, straightening his back as he dropped his fork on his plate with a shake of his head. “She is! She really is!” Renjun nodded eagerly, his hands coming up to make grand gestures as he continued on with his words. “She reminds me of a… sparrow! Perched up on the toppest tree branch in it’s tiny little feet, it gives her this calming fragile aura like a twig falling off of a branch. Her voice- her singing is like listening to a nightingale singing a bird song but with words! Or those soothing musical numbers they would always play in the telly after a good show has ended,” Renjun described, his eyes filled with stars and his heart filled with passion. 

The two shared knowing looks, bewildered at how dazed the boy in front of them truly was at that moment. “And her smile it’s like a work of art! Far greater than all of my masterpieces combined, far greater than the artwork displayed on museums! Her laughter makes her seem so miniscule, I could hardly believe that such a light heartening sound could be elicited from a human being!” Renjun went on, his smile wide as he leaned back at the thought of your smile which made his stomach do somersaults. 

“Oh Renjun, I bet that once she catches the flu, you’ll change your mind. Whenever women like those who catch the flu, they cough up a storm and sneeze like a steam truck,” Yeri joked, earning a brief frown from Renjun who scoffed in response. “Oh nonsense! I bet if she does, it would sound like a majestic flute found in the mountains!” Renjun waved his hand off with a roll of his eyes in disbelief.

The two women laughed in response, shaking a knowing look. “So basically, to sum everything up. You went to town and instead of catching the flu, you caught a bug in town, you young lad!” Yeri raised her eyebrow suggestively at the boy, indicating that he’s very much caught the love-bug she’s always ranted about on a daily basis. “Oh deary!” Joy gasped before letting out another fit of giggles, cupping her mouth to ensure that her giggles weren’t loud enough for Madam Wendy to hear. 

“You know it’s forbidden,” Yeri lectured, her tone turning serious when she realised that Renjun was actually serious about this. “For-bid-den!” Joy emphasized with every wave of her finger with a disappointing shake of her head. “I know,” Renjun sighed, a frown forming at his lips as he sunk back against the seat he was sitting on, leaning his head back sadly. “It’s for your own good, you know,” Joy smiled sadly, sympathy lacing her tone as she patted the boy’s head comfortingly. 

“Indeed. Oh deary, I wish I could live without love,” Yeri sighed, pulling out a mirror from her purse to reapply her lipstick. “Oh no, here we go again,” Renjun chuckled, sitting up straight once again as he prepared himself for another sad tragic love story his aunt has to offer. “Every day, every time I fall in love with a patient here or a man, they would always fall for some other girl!” Yeri ranted with a heavy sigh, smacking her lips together to get an even coating on her lips. “I am not letting Renjun listen to another one of your sob stories!” Joy huffed, leaning over to cup Renjun’s ears with her palms. 

“You might taint the poor boy with your bad luck with love!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t my condition a symbol of this bad luck?” Renjun chuckled, gently tugging on the older woman's wrists to remove her palms away from his ear. “Oh hush you, I’m sure you’ll get over this little infatuation you have with this little singer,” Yeri waved her hand off nonchalantly, huffing slightly. “It’s not like you see her every day of the week, you’ll get over it in no time!” she added with an encouraging hum, watching as Joy nodded with her in agreement. 

Renjun bit his lip, biting back his tongue as he continued to shove pancakes into his mouth as quickly as possible. At that moment, Madam Wendy finally came down with a key in her hand. “Renjun, I’ve always told you to bring your key wherever you go. Why won’t you ever take my words to heart?” Wendy sighed, handing the key to his mechanic heart to the young boy, who gulped slightly and mumbled a small apology under his breath before tucking his key in his front pocket. 

He couldn’t help but shiver as the memory of him having a near death experience flashed through his mind, the image of the key plunging into his heart and winding it up to lessen the pain he endured had traumatized him. He was terrified of it happening again. He was terrified of what’s becoming of him. Was this the effects of falling in love? Was he falling in love with you? He hasn’t even known you for very long, he couldn’t possibly fall for you in such a short time.

Besides, why does falling in love feel so good but hurt so bad?

-

“So how was the book I lent you?” Renjun asked in an attempt to spark up a conversation. “Quite interesting, though, I’m not quite sure that I’ll finish it any time soon. I like to focus deep into the depths of the story, fully imagine the characters emotions and thoughts,” you exclaimed, pushing your organ barrel beside the tree Renjun was leaning against, sitting down beside him under the shade and crossing your legs, tugging the edges of your dress over your knees. You dusted the bits of dirt off of the fabric on your dress. 

“I understand, it’s the thought process, right?” Renjun nodded, flipping a page of his book as he hummed. “Indeed! Though, I can’t quite get the gist of why Ms Havisham is so devoted to making Estella break Pip’s heart. She should’ve just left the poor girl alone, besides, I really don’t want to see the poor boy heartbroken,” you frowned, clicking your tongue in thought. “I despise Pip’s sister, as well,” you added with an innocent smile. 

Renjun let out an amused chuckle. “Yeah, she’s a rather insufferable character, isn’t she?” he nodded in agreement, remembering how heartless Pip’s older sister was when it came to Pip and her own husband before she passed away in the book. “She’s exactly what my mother would consider as a bitch,” you added on, pulling your glasses out from your purse with a small giggle, earning a loud gasp from the boy beside you.  “Y/n, language!” he gasped, pulling his book back to gaze at you with wide eyes. 

You giggled, mumbling a small apology before fidgeting with the frames of your glasses mindlessly. Renjun watched you play with your glasses from the corner of his eye, internally wondering why you have never worn them despite carrying them around in your purse everywhere you go. Furrowing his brows, he turned his head back to his book, biting back his tongue before shaking his head at himself.

“You know, you really shouldn’t play games with your sight if it leaves you in the dark, y/n,” Renjun deadpan, not sparing you a glance as he licked the tip of his thumb to flip a page from his new book. You huffed at your friend, fidgeting with your new spectacles in between your fingers as you rolled your eyes at the boy beside you. “How poetic,” you scoffed, earning a soft chuckle from Renjun. “I think I prefer life all a blur, thank you very much,” you added on with a snappy tone. 

“What does that even mean?” Renjun laughed lightly, putting his book down on his lap to turn to you with a soft expression on his face. “I keep forgetting to wear my glasses and now my eyes are blurry, I can’t even see the outline of my hand,” you stated, raising your free hand up above to the sky and squinted your eyes at it in an attempt to get a clearer vision of your hand that was merely a few inches away from you. “Your glasses are literally in your palms,” Renjun pointed out, nodding his head at the hand holding the glasses in question. 

You opened your mouth to speak, slowly putting your glasses in your little handbag behind you before clearing your throat. “As I said before, I forgot to wear my glasses,” you repeated, giving him a cheshire grin in response. “Jesus Christ, why do I even bother?” Renjun muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, “won’t your vision get worse the lesser you wear them?” he asked once again, rubbing his temples in distress. 

Humming in confirmation, you shrugged innocently before leaning back against the tree the two of you were sitting against. “Though, I believe it won’t get worse as long as I close my eyes. My vision won’t get worse if I don’t see, right? Besides, it feels good to close my eyes,” just as you finished your words, you clasped your hands on your lap, leaning your head back against the tree bark and closing your eyes before letting out a sigh of content. Renjun let out an annoyed puff of breath, “I don’t think that’s how it works.” 

Your content expression was enough to send fiery sparks into his mechanical heart, he could almost feel it steaming up again. He couldn’t help but notice how close you were next to him, as if he were to make one little scooch, your shoulders would be touching. His eyes wandered to your beautiful figure laying right beside him, internally suppressing the urge to clasp you close to his body in a tight embrace. Your soft lips causing his stomach to do somersaults the longer his gaze lingers there. He imagines that he would scatter confettis on the both of you if he were to press his own lips against yours in a kiss. 

His mind couldn’t help but wander back to those times where you had to walk up close to the signs to see what street the two of you were heading, the amount of times you had to squint and lean over the table to read whatever paragraph he was trying to show you during your reading sessions at the library. He felt this sudden urge to protect you, to constantly remind you to wear your glasses in case your vision worsened. 

There was something inside of him screaming at him to not let you stray away from the happy path you were currently in. Something inside of him made him determined to be your only guide, to be your pair of eyes. In return, he knew you would ignite the flame in his heart. No, you would be the special flame that burns his heart. You’d be a conflagration in the night. A pretty arsonist. A fire blazing so bright you’ll see the light of the heavens itself. 

“Oh why bother. You know very well, out of my five senses, my hearings best. I’m pretty sure I’ll recognize you without relying on my eyes,” you waved your hand off carelessly, keeping your eyes closed, oblivious to the way Renjun was looking at you so lovingly. “Well I assure you, I don’t think you can rely on your hearing to walk down the streets without my assistance,” Renjun chuckled, recalling the time when you almost walked into the wrong side of town due to your poor eyesight. 

“You don’t know that! My eyes always lead me astray, anyways. Far away down the street, sometimes I can’t bear to steal a glance at the sun or even look the sky straight in the eye for fear that my eyes would deceive me as well,” you confessed dramatically, finally opening your eyes and turning your head to look at Renjun in the eye. Your eyes widened at the way Renjun’s eyes softened at the sight of your own pupils staring back at his in confusion. You straighten up your position, putting your hands behind you and leaning on them. 

“Then let me be your eyes,” Renjun replied in an almost hushed tone. “I won’t let you stray, I promise,” he gave you a sweet boyish smile, making your heart flutter in your chest at his words. “Aren’t you being a little flirtatious? That’s quite unexpected of you, Huang Renjun,” you said with a raise of your brows as the corner of your lips quirked up into a smile that mirrored his own. You turned your head, feeling your faces grow closer and closer with every second. 

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” he hummed, turning his body so his shoulder was leaning against the tree bark, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips as he leaned closer to you. You chuckled, shaking your head softly. “I don’t know, what do you think? Maybe it could be a good thing?” you shrugged, closing your eyes and leaning your face closer to his. Renjun followed your actions, feeling the gears in his mechanical heart work at a fast pace. He winced in pain as his body jolted and twitched in pain, the mechanical bird inside of the clock rapidly hitting the door of his clock.

He felt your breath hitting against his face, your lips merely an inch away from his as his body twitched in pain once again. Letting out a grunt of pain, he felt one of the gears of his clock pop out of his chest. Putting his hands on his chest, he grunted once again as his body twitched uncontrollably in pain. There was the sound of fabric being ripped before his vision darkened and he fell back against the concrete floor, falling unconscious within a few seconds.

“Renjun!” a voice yelled out in alarm, causing your eyes to jolt open in shock. 

“Oh god, not this. Please, anything but this,” an unfamiliar voice gasped in a panic. Your vision was blurry, you couldn’t see much happening in front of you. You quickly fished out your spectacles from your purse, putting them on immediately before your eyes widened in fear and shock, your body froze on the spot. You could almost feel your heart stop beating against your chest for a moment. 

Right in front of you was an unconscious Huang Renjun in the arms of an older lady on the floor. He was leaning against her lap, arms wrapped around him tightly in a motherly way. His eyes closed in content, it almost appeared as if he was just sleeping peacefully. There was steam coming out of his chest, you couldn’t see where it was coming from considering the old lady had blocked your view of him almost completely as she pleaded for him to wake up worriedly. 

The lady in question snapped her head at you, glaring daggers at you as if you had committed some sort of arson. “What have you done to him?” she asked, her tone filled with malice and hatred. As if you were the cause of Renjun’s current state. Your eyes widened at her sharp tone, fear and anxiety creeping up in your veins as you couldn’t find the courage to even open your mouth, let alone utter a single word. You shakily got up to your feet, grabbing the strap of your purse before running off away from the two.

-

Slap!

The loud sound of Madam Wendy’s palm making contact with Renjun’s cheek pierced the room, causing his head to turn sideways at the harsh impact, wincing slightly as he laid against the chair, which was commonly used for Wendy’s patients, shirtless. His body jolted at the sudden contact, his heart making a loud ‘cuckoo’ sound at the shock it caused. “What were you thinking? You could’ve died!” Madam Wendy scolded, her fists balled up in her sides as she walked over to her table tray filled with tools. 

Renjun couldn’t speak as he looked down in his palms, his mind blank and face void of emotion. He felt numb at that exact moment, he didn’t know if it was the aftermath of the sheering pain he just endured in front of you or it was because of the feeling of his heart being fixed by his own caretaker. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Huang Renjun. Whatever bloody happened to rule number 3? Did you forget?” Madam Wendy exclaimed in an alarming tone, her voice strict and angry. “No,” Renjun replied before breaking into a small fit of coughs, wincing as his chest burned with every breath he took. 

“Do you have a pain in your heart when you cough?” Madam Wendy asked, her tone filled with worry, eyes filled with disappointment as she searched for a pair of pliers. Renjun nodded slowly in response, gripping the armrests of the chair as he leaned his head back against the pillow set behind his head. “Well multiply that pain and your suffering to a hundred fold and you still won’t understand the pain love causes,” she snapped, using some pliers to pull a piece of fabric from the arrows of his heart, placing the fabric on the small tray beside him before walking off to grab some more tools. 

“And the greater the love, the greater the pain,” she sighed, opening the drawers from across the room. Renjun’s eyes flickered to the woman frantically trying to fix his heart before his eyes moved down to the white fabric on the tray. He reached his arm out to grab it, quickly snucking it in his pockets before looking back at the window. During your near-kiss under the tree, the arrows of his clock must’ve pulled against the fabric of your dress. Your dress wasn’t made out of the most durable fabric, the pull must’ve ripped the top sleeve of your dress when he passed out. 

“First, your sense of ache, followed by pangs of rage and jealousy then incomprehension,” she started to explain, sipping on her coffee as Wendy’s heart ached at the thought of her own child going through that much pain if this goes on.  “Rejection, the agony of heartbreak,” she turned to point her tweezers that was holding a gear in between it with a strict motherly expression. One that Renjun couldn’t bear looking into for too long.

“Your mechanical heart won’t be able to withstand it, you know this! I told you countless times, this is why I’m always so worried whenever I let you go into town,” she barked, walking back to the tools to drop the rusted gear along with the other broken metals she pulled out and replaced from his heart. “It will overheat and explode, I transplanted it with my own two hands, therefore I know it’s limits,” she went on, her tone falling deaf onto Renjun’s ears as his mind wandered back to your figure. 

“A single kiss. A brush against your lips could be your last! Just like that, bang!”

With eyes closed in thought, he wondered what happened after he fell unconscious, how did Madam Wendy find him in such a short amount of time? What happened to you? Did he scare you when he fell unconscious? He was worried you’ll  be afraid to talk to him now. Did Wendy say anything mean to you while he was out cold on the concrete floor?

Oh god, your presence isn’t even here and your existence is entering his heart and filling it with flames as if you were a little fairy wandering around looking for a new home to live in. A home which is his heart. He couldn’t help but let out a small smile at the vivid memory of sitting so close to you under the shade, how his skin burns at the feeling of touching yours, how your smile and laughter gave colour to his emotionless dark world. Oh how the thought of you made Renjun feel as if he was floating. It was as if you were carrying him up into the sky, he felt like flying by your side. 

“Do you know why I saved your life?” a voice snapped him out of his daydreaming.

His eyes opened, head turning to his caretaker who took a seat next to him, gripping her gloves in her hands. “You were the son I never had,” she confessed, giving him a small comforting smile. “Why couldn’t you have one?” Renjun asked rather hesitantly, his voice almost hushed as if he was whispering, despite the fact that it was only the two of them in the room. Madam Wendy shrugged, sighing heavily. 

“It was no one’s fault. It’s one of those tricks love and nature plays on us, you know that more than anyone,” she chuckled, gesturing to the cuckoo clock heart on his naked chest. “Though, the day your mother gave you to me felt like it was heaven sent. Oh god, I would lose my mind and my reason for living if I lost you,” she reached over and ran her fingers through her child’s hair, making Renjun feel some sort of guilt deep down in his chest. 

“I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry I fell in love and I don’t know how to get out.

-

Madam Wendy finally allowed Renjun out of their home a month after the incident. For the whole thirty days he was prisoned in his home, all that wandered in his mind was you. He wanted to see you, he longed to hear your sardonic humor, he longed to hear your angelic laughter flowing through his ears like music. He longed to ask forgiveness of what had happened between the two of you under the tree.

He wondered if you harbored the same feelings for him as he does for you. He doubted you’d still feel the same after the incident, however, a part of him had hope that you would wait for him all this time. He tried to prove himself wrong as he ran around town to all of your favorite spots. The library, the fountain, the art store, the tree. Anywhere his mind took him, his feet didn’t stop moving. His feet couldn’t stop moving. 

He wanted to see you again. No, he needed to see you again. He needed to apologize to you to release the guilt in his heart. He didn’t care if his heart would explode right then and there, he needed to see you and he wanted to finally embrace you in his arms. He needed to know if you reciprocate his feelings, he needed to know if you longed for him as much as he longed for you this whole entire time. He never got your answer, either. He asked to be your eyes, he wanted to be your guide. He wanted to tell you to rely on him if you can’t rely on your eyes, he wanted to hold your hand to keep you from straying to the wrong path. He wanted to feel his lips brush against yours, he wanted to feel love. He wanted to feel loved by you.

His heart fell even more when he realised he couldn’t find you anywhere. No one knew where you went, no one has seen you since the day he fell unconscious. It was as if you had disappeared off of the surface of the earth. The only thing he had of you was the fabric he accidentally tore off of your dress. He realised you left your barrel organ ride beside the tree. It was already collecting dust as leaves fell in between the spaces of the organ. 

You were gone. 

The owner of the library informed him that you had fled abroad. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach at the thought of you running away. You didn’t even say goodbye. You didn’t even have the audacity to tell him you were leaving? Surely you would have informed him that you were leaving. Yet again, you did tell him on the first day you met that you weren’t supposed to stay here for too long. But was it too much of him to ask you to at least say goodbye?

-

Two years later, it was Renjun’s 18th birthday. Two years since he lost you, two years since he went back to the hollow shell he formerly was before he fell in love. He spent months wallowing in his own sorrow, he spent months wondering if you missed him the same way he missed you. He no longer looked forward to walking out of his home to paint, all he saw was grey. The places he spent with you made his vision dark and grey, it was as if the joy inside of him were stripped from his vision. 

He didn’t know what to do. His heart grew numb, he didn’t know how to make himself happy again. It was as if he had lost a part of himself. He had lost something precious. Which he did, he lost you. He didn’t know what to do. Yet, on a rare occasion, he would take small walks into town. 

Madam Wendy noticed how Renjun’s whole existence grew dull ever since that day, his eyes were always dark as if he hasn’t slept for centuries, a frown permanently placed on his lips, his movements weak as if he didn’t have the energy to move. At this point he admitted that he was barely living, he was just a human body existing with a cuckoo clock as a heart. His days were no longer as bright as they used to.

To Renjun, the days felt like it was repeating itself. He wasn’t allowed to go to school, for Madam Wendy feared that he would be made fun of and bullied by his peers. Everyday, he would wake up and wind up his heart, take a long shower, eat his breakfast, paint or read his books, occasionally talking to the patients who attempted to make small talk with him (however that wouldn’t last very long considering he had no interest whatsoever in interacting with strangers he barely knew), eat dinner, go to bed. Repeat. 

It was an exhausting cycle. His mind was growing dull. Whenever his mental health became worse, he would take a walk into town to clear his mind to try and lift his own spirits (despite the fact that he knew it’s futile. After all, he’s been trying this for the past two years.) Today was unfortunately one of those days. 

Renjun had decided to take a small visit to the library. He remembered how he had to apologize to the librarian for lending you the Great Expectations book when he remembered that you’ve never returned the book back to him. He still felt guilty despite the fact that the librarian didn’t mind it very much. The librarian lady took a liking to both you and Renjun, she thought the two of you would’ve ended up together if it weren’t for the fact that you had moved away without a goodbye.

But fortunately for Renjun, today was a different day. Today would be the day to end his miserable lifestyle. 

“Renjun! Renjun, my dear boy! How are you, honey?” the librarian greeted, putting a stack of books on the counter as Renjun entered the library with a bashful smile on his face. “Same as always, Mrs. Dust,” he bowed to greet the older lady politely, snucking his hands in his pockets after tugging on his coat. “Honey, I have lovely news for you! You remember your old friend, Miss Y/n, don’t you?” the lady giggled, walking over to the young adult with an eager smile on her face. 

Oh how Renjun’s heart perked up at the brief mention of your name. 

“Of course I do, Mrs. What about her?” he coughed, clearing his throat to prevent his voice from shaking. “I’ve received a letter from her! Oh hold on, dearie,” she giggled, squatting down to open the small drawer near her desk and pulling out a small postcard which had a familiar handwriting written on the back. “It must be your birthday soon. Happy birthday, my dear boy. The least I can do is give you this,” she smiled, handing Renjun the postcard with a hum. 

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Dust,” he smiled, gripping the postcard tightly in between his fingers as he looked down on it. It was indeed from you. You didn’t write much on the card, nothing more than a simple ‘happy birthday’ and a small ‘I missed you’. You had written your name at the edge of the card and a small ‘R’ beside the happy birthday, indicating that it was truly for him. Fireworks erupted in his stomach when he saw small hearts doodled all over the card with a red pen. 

You remembered him. 

You missed him. 

You thought of him.

Those words were enough to revive the spark in his heart. Those were enough to spread a bright genuine smile across his lips. His cheeks hurt from how wide his smile was, he felt like jumping for joy. He was so ecstatic he thought he could fly to the sky, he felt his fingers itching as his eyes wandered to the address you have written at the bottom of the postcard, giving him a hint of where you might be living. 

Andalusia. 

You were half across Europe. You were so far away, yet so close. He wanted to see you. He needed to see you. He couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste, he needed to get a move on and he needed to find you. He thought sending you a postcard back wasn’t enough. He wanted to see the girl who managed to turn his heart without the key, he wanted to see the girl who produced a spark in his heart with only a few mere words.

He ran all the way back home, encountering Joy and Yeri on the way back and shooting them with an uncharacteristically bright smile stretched across his face. “Renjun, lad, what’s gotten you all jumpy?” Joy exclaimed, causing Renjun to stop in his tracks. “I got a letter from her!” he informed them, his voice high-pitched as if he just got told that he had personally won the sun, moon and stars all to himself. In his case, he actually did. He actually did.

“A letter?” Yeri squeaked up, a smile stretching across her face at the sight of the younger boy’s. “From who?” Joy asked, giggles bubbling up in between the two ladies as they watch Renjun suppress the urge to jump for joy. “Y/n! She remembers me! She sent me a postcard from Andalusia,” he exclaimed, waving the postcard in their faces. Joy’s eyes wandered down to Renjun’s chest, watching as the hands of his clock spun rapidly, indicating how excited the young adult was feeling. 

“Y/n? Was this the young girl you went on about a few years ago?” Yeri asked, receiving an enthusiastic nod from Renjun himself. “Renjun, that’s great news! What are you planning to do then? Write her another letter?” she asked once again, clasping her hands in front of her at the delightful news. The boy shook his head eagerly, his smile never faltering. 

“I’m going to find her, I’m going to find her and confess my love,” he breathed out, his own words taking his breath away. The thought of seeing you again was enough to send him flying into the heavens, oh for all things that’s holy, he didn’t know how he was going to proclaim his love for you in person when he could barely explain it in words himself.

“To Andalusia? Renjun, that’s halfway across Europe! Madam Wendy won’t be very happy about this,” Joy informed him, a sympathetic smile replacing her previously bright one. Renjun’s smile faltered at the mention of his caretaker, looking down at the postcard you had sent him, your messy handwriting beckoning him to come to you. He sucked his bottom lip, his heart racing at the thought of rebelling against Madam Wendy’s orders.

Yet again, if he did end up dying from this, all of Madam Wendy’s efforts throughout the past two decades would be in vain. She was practically his guardian after all, but yet again, he was a legal adult now isn’t he? He’s 18 years old, he didn’t have to live under her rules anymore if he didn’t want to. But he couldn’t help but feel guilty for wanting to flee Edinburgh just to see you again, something inside of him was screaming at him to run.

Maybe this time, he would listen to it.

“Joy, Yeri, will you help me escape Edinburgh?”

-

“Renjun? What are you doing up so late?” 

Renjun froze, halting his movements as he dropped another sweater into his suitcase. He shut his eyes tightly as his heart raced against his chest, taking a deep breath to compose himself before standing up to face his caretaker as he zipped up his suitcase tight. “Wendy,” he cleared his throat, gripping tightly on the saddle of his suitcase with a small cough, slipping the key to his heart in his front pockets. “Renjun, why do you have a suitcase packed? It’s past curfew,” she narrowed her eyes at the boy.

“Wendy, I am now a legal adult. I have turned 18 years old,” Renjun started, suppressing the urge to gulp down his nerves but he kept his ground. “Yes, I know that, Renjun. That still doesn't answer my question as to why you’re up this late with a packed suitcase,” she nodded, tone laced with confusion as Renjun took a step back towards the opened window, looking out at the moonlight. “Y/n sent me a postcard… from Andalusia,” his voice grew quieter as the seconds went by.

“I’m planning to travel half across Europe to see her again.”

“No, I forbade it.” Wendy shook her head, taking a step forward towards her adopted child, her hands balled up into fists at how Renjun’s determined expression didn’t falter at the slightest bit at her strict tone. “I expected you to say that,” Renjun sighed, walking over to the open window and looking up at the moon shining down upon the dark sky. 

“Nature was cruel to pray this silly little trick on me. I spent two decades wondering ‘what is love’? I knew I didn’t need to love in life, you showed me that throughout my whole 18 years of living here. I didn’t need love to live,” Renjun started, clasping his hands together as he held the saddle of his suitcase harder.

“But I realise, I’ve always wanted to feel love. To feel love, to give love and be loved back. Y/n made me realise that when I started falling for her two years ago, and if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have come to this realisation either,” he chuckled in disbelief, looking around at the decorations of his room, realising how much he’s going to miss living here. “I want to go out and explore the world, I know you have been dreading at the possibility of this day coming, but it has, Wendy.”

“Renjun, no. If you leave, this might as well be the last breath you’ll take! You have never travelled outside of town before, how are you going to survive travelling all across Europe for some measly girl? I won’t allow it, I can’t allow it,” Wendy shook her head, her eyes wide with panic as she watched Renjun walk backwards to the open window behind him. “I know you won’t allow it. But it’s time to let me go,” Renjun smiled sadly.

“Thank you for the 18 years you have spent trying to keep me alive. But the past two years felt meaningless to me without her presence, it felt aimless. I was honestly thinking about taking my own life at some point,” he chuckled with a shake of his head. “But now, I realise I rather risk my life for love than spend the rest of my days here with an empty, cold feeling in my heart,” he shot his guardian a genuine smile, the first genuine smile she has ever witnessed from the young boy. 

“Goodbye Wendy.”

“Huang Renjun!” 

Renjun fell back from the open window, causing Madam Wendy to let out a cry of his name, quickly running over to the window to see if her child was okay. She gasped when she saw that Renjun had landed on a mattress Joy and Yeri had set before hand, a loud joyous laughter eliciting from the younger boy’s lips, a sound Wendy has never heard from the boy from his eighteen years of living. He got up from the mattress, grabbing his suitcase quickly before shooting a boyish smile to his aunts. 

“I’ll send you a postcard, Madam Wendy!” he exclaimed as he began running down the hill. 

“Renjun, no! Come back! Oh god, please no! Yeri, Joy, what are you doing?! Stop the young lad before he-”

“You can’t blame me for falling hard in love, mother!”

-

“Now my dear boy, what a lovely contraption of a heart you got there!” a man exclaimed, adjusting his monocle as he squinted his eyes at Renjun’s mechanical heart. “Oh, why, thank you,” he smiled politely, bowing at the older man as he gripped his canvas in hand. “Where are you off to? You seem quite young to be travelling all by yourself,” the man asked in an attempt to make small talk.

That night, Renjun had run off to catch the nearest train to Paris, he planned to take a trip from there to Andalusia. It was a 7 hour ride but he was willing to do anything at this point to get out of Edinburgh. When he finally arrived in Paris, he stumbled upon this man while waiting for his next train. “Oh pardon me, where are my manners! I’m Kim Doyoung,” he outstretched his hand for Renjun to shake with a toothy smile spread on his lips. 

“Huang Renjun,” he introduced with a sheepish smile. “Ah, So, Renjun, where are you going, my dear boy? You seem a little bit too young to travel,” Doyoung took off his monocle, wiping it against his tie before putting it back on. “I-I’m trying to get a replacement for my heart,” Renjun said, poking his little clock with the tip of his finger, grimacing at the small ticking sound it was making at the small touch. 

It wasn’t a complete lie. 

He had planned to get a replacement for his heart for so long, he figured that maybe if he changed into a new one, this wretched curse of forbidden love might be lifted. Maybe he didn’t have to part ways with Madam Wendy or Joy or Yeri. Maybe if he replaced his clock, he could live his life happily in love with you. Though, for now, it was just a small hope he held inside of him. All he could do now was find a clockmaker.

“I’m trying to find a clockmaker somewhere to replace my heart,” he spoke in a bold tone, looking down at his unfinished piece. He made it during his seven hour train ride while thinking of you just to pass the time, though, he was honestly considering giving it to you the moment you get to reunite with each other. “Do you happen to know one?” he asked, his eyes going wide with hopefulness.

Doyoung hummed in response, tugging on the tip of his tie. “Unfortunately, I’m not a clockmaker. But I do like tinkering in the mechanics direction! Maybe I could take a closer look at your heart to see if there’s anything I can do,” Doyoung suggested, pulling out a magnifying glass with a nod of his head. Renjun sucked his bottom lip nervously before taking out the key from his front pocket, plunging it into the mechanical heart and turning it to open the door of his heart. “Alright then.” “Oh! You say that this was grafted by the famous Madam Wendy from Edinburgh? She must be quite the genius to craft and piece this all for you with her bare hands to save your life,” he exclaimed, leaning closer to observe the small gears slowly turning with every small tick tocks his heart makes. “Though, I don’t know why you’d want to replace such a thing. Everything works just fine, clearly, she made this out of love. I could see it within every crevice of art she puts into this clock,” the older man clicked his heart, putting his magnifying glass back into his bag as Renjun closed his heart shut and pulled his key out of the clock.

“Love, huh? That’s the exact problem I have at the moment,” Renjun sighed heavily, tucking his key back into his front pocket before leaning back against his seat. “It’s very dangerous to me. At least that’s what Wendy said to me for the past eighteen years of my life,” he looked down at his shoes sadly, pressing his lips together in a tight line as he felt the guilt catching up to him at the thought of his caretaker’s efforts going in vain. 

“Tell me about it,” Doyoung grinned, putting his hand on his chin as a smug expression spread across his features. 

“You see, mister Kim-”

“Oh no! Call me Doyoung!” 

“Uhm- You see, mister Doyoung. There’s this singer I met in Edinburgh a long time ago and-” “Ah yes, I see. These things do happen quite often.” Renjun bit back his tongue when Doyoung interrupted him once again, but nonetheless he continued on with his story. “As time went on, we grew closer. And soon, I couldn’t help but feel as if my whole world was going through a life threatening earthquake. My head was spinning, I couldn’t breathe. The ticking tock of my clock sounded almost alarming as if it was going to stop at any given moment whenever I’m within her lovely presence,” he explained, making grand, dramatic gestures with his hands as he went on.

Doyoung chuckled, assuming that Renjun’s poetic explanations were purely symbolic. “And how did that feel, exactly, Renjun?” he asked, causing Renjun’s expression to soften. “Extraordinary,” he sighed, almost dreamily as he looked down at the postcard he was holding in his free hand that wasn’t holding his canvas. “There you go, my dear boy,” he chuckled in response, leaning back against the seat next to Renjun’s.

“I don’t know, Mister Doyoung. I fear Wendy might be right, though, what if love was just a trap and my ticking clock is just a bomb waiting to be triggered by it?” Renjun asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he kissed his teeth. “Renjun, if you fear of getting hurt, you will increase the chances of getting hurt,” Doyoung laid a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “You should enjoy the thrill, the danger! That pumps through your veins at the thought of falling completely in love,” he exclaimed. 

“If you live your life worrying everything, you’ll get bored before you even die! Don’t you want to experience a life changing experience with this little lady you’ve been saughting after?” he asked, her tone encouraging Renjun’s spirit to get back up again. A smile stretched across Renjun’s face at the thought, he had flashbacks to the two years he spent without you. He couldn’t afford going back to the same depressing situation he got himself out of, and he’s definitely not willing to go back now that he’s almost there.

“If I can find her again. The last time I heard from her, she was in Andalusia,” he shrugged with a small laugh.

“I’d say,” Doyoung laughed. “When you’re eighteen and you’re travelling half across the continent for a girl, I’d say the rebellious genes in your DNA are highly developed,” he joked, retracting his hand from Renjun’s shoulders. “I bet I could make a whole film based on your cuckoo clock heart,” Doyoung whipped out an empty journal from his bag, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at his newfound friend. “Why not?” Renjun chuckled with a small shrug. 

“Young love, what a beautiful thing to see. You see, I never had any fond memories when it comes to being in love. All I do is invent and invent contraptions, and my former lover never appreciated my expertise. Life is far from easy when you’re in love, my young friend,” Doyoung sighed, leaning his arm against the seat with a heavy sigh. “Why don’t you come with me to Andalusia then, Mister Doyoung? I’m sure anything’s possible there and I wouldn’t mind having a bit of a company on my way there,” Renjun offered, the thought of making a new friend giving some light into his dark path.

“You want an unprofessional mechanic with constant near mental breakdowns following you in your journey to find love?” Doyoung’s eyes went wide in shock, a smile that mirrored Renjun’s appearing on his face. “I would love to have an unprofessional mechanic with constant near mental breakdowns in my quest!” Renjun laughed, nodding eagerly as he sat up straight to shake Doyoung’s hand to make a deal.

Renjun had  made another friend.

-

When they finally arrived in Andalusia, they stumbled upon a small amusement park where you were rumored to be staying in at the moment. “Well, first impressions?” Doyoung asked, looking around the ominous park filled with performers and eccentric workers setting up their tents. “It’s.. quite different than Edinburgh, I must admit,” Renjun chuckled, pulling on his suitcase eagerly as he scanned his eyes around in hopes that he might see your figure at the corner of his eye.

The park, unlike his old town, was way more colourful than Edinburgh. There were animals in colourful cages, happily interacting with their inmates. There were jesters and mimes practicing for their acts in the middle of the streets, happily entertaining a few visitors. There were food stands everywhere, Renjun swore you could exit this park penniless under five minutes if you really wanted to. 

“Come one, come all! For tonight we have special acts starting from 5 pm to-” 

He walked past whom he assumed was the announcer of the park, who was enthusiastically using a tricycle to spread his message all over the place. And upon walking around he stumbled upon what seems to be a horror attraction in the shape of a train, the owner standing inside of a coffin as she smoked her cigarette, eyeing Renjun suspiciously. “Looking for something, you little runt? A job, perhaps? Cause, I’m looking for a new employee to hire,” she asked, taking a puff of her cigarette in between her sentences. 

Renjun took his words back about Madam Wendy resembling Ms Havisham. Because at that given moment, he felt like Pip when he was first introduced to Ms Havisham in the book, clueless as to what he wanted with her. Renjun shook his head, no, mustering up the courage to give the older woman a polite smile. “I’m looking for a little singer?” he answered with an innocent smile. 

“A little singer? Here? The chances of that is equivalent to finding a snowflake in hell,” she rolled her eyes, taking another puff from her cigarette and blowing smoke into Renjun’s face. He coughed, taking a step back in alarm but he bit his tongue to snap back at the woman’s rude actions. “Listen, I’m just trying to find a little singer who sings like a lovely bird in the break of daw-” 

“Enough jabbering about her! Do you want the job or not?” she sighed exasperatedly. 

As Renjun was about to give the woman a piece of his mind for being so rude, the announcer cycling around him caught his attention with his words. “Ladies and Gentlemen, up next in our line of performers will be the young singing sensation, Miss Y/n! A lady who has travelled far and wide with her infamous street singing career,” the announcer said with a booming voice as he cycled to another part of the park.

“Miss Y/n?” he whispered with a soft gasp. “Well? Do you want the job or not?” the woman asked with a raised brow. He frowned involuntarily at the woman’s abrupt tone, clicking his tongue before running back to wherever Doyoung was. “I’ll think about it!” he exclaimed loudly before sprinting off, calling out his colleague’s name with a bright smile on his face. 

“I found her!”

-

“It is her!” he gasped, watching as you slowly come out of your little private trailer, music piercing his ears and your voice making its way into his heart like a knife throwing attraction. It hit right at the target perfectly. “It’s her, I can’t believe it,” Renjun could feel his breath being taken away. You had grown to be a beautiful woman, your features changed slightly due to the years but nonetheless, it didn’t do anything to stop Renjun’s heart from swelling up with adoration like a balloon being filled with helium. 

“Go into her trailer, no one’s going to notice you. Talk to her after her performance,” Doyoung encouraged with a slightly hushed tone. “Excuse me?” Renjun’s eyes shot wide at the unexpected encouragement, his eyes wandering to the trailer you came out of. “I can’t do that! That’s a lady’s privacy!” he exclaimed, shaking his head aggressively. “Trust me, it’ll go smoothly! Just believe in yourself and try not to let the conversation die,” Doyoung hissed, nudging on the younger boy’s shoulder.

Renjun got up slowly, gulping down his fear as he quickly got into your trailer, eyes wide at his own stupidity. ‘God, why did I decide to do this? This is very uncouth of me to do so,’ he thought to himself, wincing slightly when he realised that the music had died down. A bouquet of daisies were in his hand, he didn’t know what to do at that moment as he observed your trailer. It wasn’t very far from you. It was decorated according to your liking.

Your favorite colour was splashed all over the walls, a mannequin standing idly beside the entrance, your dressing table with a gigantic mirror showing his nervous presence. He froze for a brief moment at the sound of your enchanting humming and your little footsteps coming closer to the trailer, making him stand behind the mannequin on pure instinct as you walked into the trailer with a skip in your step.

You were humming the same song you sang on the day you first met. Muttering the lyrics under your breath as you removed bits of dust from your clothing from the performance. Looking up at the mirror, you gasped at Renjun’s awkward figure standing behind your mannequin. You stood up abruptly, grabbing a perfume on your desk and raised it up threateningly at him. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” you exclaimed in alarm. You couldn’t see his face very clearly considering you weren’t wearing your glasses.

“I’m sorry! I was tying my shoelaces when I fell into your floor,” Renjun shook his head, waving his hands around nervously to give off the message that he wasn’t some weird creep or stalker snooping around your belongings. “Do you always fall into a girl’s quarters when she’s changing?” you snapped, lowering your perfume hesitantly as you narrowed your eyes suspiciously at the boy. “NO! No! I would never, I swear! I don’t even know why I’m-”

“You look suspiciously familiar as if I recognise you from somewhere,” you mumbled under your breath, squinting your eyes at him. “You recognise me?” Renjun perked up, a smile stretching across his face as he took a step away from the mannequin towards you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes before turning to the mirror to adjust your appearance. “What do you want anyway?” you sighed, as if you were used to this sort of encounter.

“I’d like to give you a bouquet of daisies,” Renjun bit his lip, pulling the bouquet behind him and leaning it towards your direction. “Daisies? I can’t say they’re my favorite flowers,” you chuckled, looking up at him with a more relaxed expression. “I have no idea why, but peculiarly, daisies always reminds me of my glasses,” you confessed, putting the bouquet on your desk and standing up towards the exit. “I stopped wearing them a long, long time ago. They make me look like some weird bug,” you joked, looking back at Renjun, who chuckled at your words.

‘You really haven’t changed, huh?’

“It’s fine by me,” Renjun chuckled, walking closer towards you in comforting silence. The way your eyes made contact with his softly made his stomach do somersaults, the gears of his heart felt like it was powered by a burst of energy. “Could we see each other again?” he asked hesitantly, “I’d like to get to know you even more,” he added, snucking his hands in his pockets. “Perhaps,” you shrugged, giving him a smile that mirrored his own. “You’re not from around these parts, are you?”

“Oh, no! I’m not, I’m the-I work at the ghost train,” Renjun lied through his teeth, letting out a nervous laugh. “Oh, you’re the new scarer? That’s wonderful news to hear,” you exclaimed, clapping your hands to congratulate him on his new job. “Yes, of course! Exactly, I’m the new scarer,” he nodded, a little bit too eagerly if you asked him. “Can I come see you in action?” you laughed lightly, observing how fidgety the boy in front of you is as he stepped out of your trailer.

“Of course!”

“Tomorrow? Around four?” 

“I’ll see you then.”

-

As the weeks went by, the love between you and Renjun blossomed like a rose. You bonded over your love for art and music in general, rekindling the friendship you used to have. But unfortunately for Renjun, you didn’t recognise him, not a single bit. It was against his beliefs to hit a woman, for that was very impolite of a man, but whenever you mumble how you couldn’t put your finger on how you recognize him from somewhere then proceeds to drop the conversation, he couldn’t lie. He wanted to smack you upside the head for your oblivious self. 

‘Oblivious, rather ludicrous and as blind as a bat. Why did I fancy her, again?’ he would always ponder to himself on a daily basis before watching you run around to try the newest food from each of the food stalls with a bright smile on your face. ‘Oh, right, that’s why,’ he sighed heavily before going over to you with his hands clasped behind his back, mentally preparing himself to fall head over heels for you over and over again.

Today, he was giving you a tour of the ghost train. (yes, he took up the offer with a roll of his eyes just so he can stay here and spent more time with you) “You’re doing a wonderful job here, by the way. It looked like people are having a lot of fun riding the ghost train with your assistance,” you complimented, giving Renjun a soft smile as you walk along the dark train tracks.

“Why thank you, my boss can’t say the same, however,” he grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes at the thought of his boss being ashamed of him for ruining her quote unquote reputation. “Don’t mind her, she’s always been like that,” you waved it off with a small giggle, patting his shoulder. “Hmm,” he nodded, a pregnant pause settling between you two as you basked in each other’s company. “How did you like the glasses I gave you?” 

Everyday, Renjun would find the most ominous and peculiar looking glasses that were all twisted and broken to give to you, which always brought a smile upon your face knowing full well that you couldn’t wear them no matter how much you tried. “Awful, as usual,” you joked, clasping your hands behind your back as you skipped along the tracks, your shoes hitting the dark coal with a soft ‘tip tap’. “Wonderful,” he laughed lightly, shaking his head profusely at you.

“I still can’t shake over the feeling that I’ve been in this situation before, or maybe I dreamed of this moment before,” you blurted out, looking around the damp cave-like tunnel you were walking through. Renjun bit his lip sadly, suppressing the urge to tell you that he was the boy you met back in Edinburgh. Yet again, what if you left for a reason? What if you left because you didn’t want to see him again? He feared the worse as time went on. 

“I’m sure we’ve met before but I don’t know where,” you turned to him with a smile tugging at your lips. “Really,” Renjun looked down at his feet, kicking the coal as you both paused in your step and turned your bodies to look at each other in the eyes. You somehow found comfort in looking into Renjun’s eyes, but you couldn’t pinpoint why they constantly gave you a sense of deja vu whenever you stare into them for too long. “What’s that odd pitter patter?” you mumbled, hearing a familiar tapping sound in the tunnel.

He bit back a smile, “it’s the rain.” 

He knew those words all too well. “Do you like the rain?” he asked, putting his hand behind his back as he adjusted the top hat on his head. “Getting wet? No,” you shook your head, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “But the sound it makes? Yes,” you nodded enthusiastically, making Renjun laugh at your slight eagerness. “And I’ve heard that noise before somewhere,” you whispered, loud enough for Renjun to hear. 

“That’s because it’s my heart,” he couldn’t help but blurted out, putting a hand on his little coat. “Pardon?” you furrowed your brows in confusion, watching him tug on his coat to reveal a miniscule cuckoo clock on his chest. “My heart, they made it for me on the day I was born. It’s a bit cold and a little fragile, but it works,” he sighed, watching as you observe the small contraption on his heart with a curious expression, pulling out the key from his pockets.

“You can open me up with this little key,” he grabbed your hand and placed the key in between your fingers, letting you push the key into his heart and turning it to the left before opening the door of his clock. “Fascinating, do you always let other girls walk into the train tracks with you and let them open your heart?” you chuckled, raising your brow at the boy in front of you, whose eyes widened in surprise as you pulled your hand away from his heart. 

“No, not really. In fact, you’re the first one,” Renjun shook his head with a sweet smile, closing the door shut and pulling out the key before placing it back into his pocket. “Oh, thanks,” your eyes widened slightly at his blunt expression, putting a hand on your arm shyly. “You’re welcome,” he chuckled, patting the key in his pocket. Renjun’s eyes wandered from your eyes to your soft lips, his heart racing against his chest at the thought of finally picking up where you had left off all those years. He didn’t even realise that he was leaning his head towards yours. 

“Wait- no,” you pressed a hand against his chest, pushing him away as you turned your head to the side with guilt glossing over your eyes. “Don’t,” you shook your head as you took a step back. “I really like you. There’s a warm fuzzy feeling growing in my tummy that’s making me pull towards you like a magnet, but,” you paused, looking down at your hands nervously as they lay limp on your sides. “My heart belongs to someone else,” you gave him a sympathetic smile. 

“Someone I met a long, long time ago. You always reminded me of him. “I’m still waiting until the day we reunite once again, embarking on a romantic adventure with you would just be unfair,” you sighed heavily, rubbing your arms nervously as you slowly let Renjun down. A great pang of pain pierced through Renjun’s whole body at your words, he could almost feel his heart tear itself apart as he watched you walk away and out of the ghost tunnel. 

Away from him.

-

“Renjun! You’re back! So? How did it go?” Doyoung exclaimed, fixing his latest invention with a cough, dropping his tweezers in his bag as he wiped his hands on a nearby cloth. Doyoung had rented an empty building so that he could introduce his new inventions to the public and entertain them with them. “She loves someone else,” Renjun mumbled under his breath, tossing his top hat onto one of the seats they set up as he sat down on the steps of the small indoor stage Doyoung had built over the past few weeks.

“I travelled halfway across Europe for her for absolutely nothing,” Renjun laid his head on his palms, sighing heavily as he tried to keep himself from screaming in pain. His heart was hurting. It was way different than the pain he felt two years ago, it was a whole new level of emotional pain he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. “Did you at least confess your love for her?” Doyoung asked, taking a seat next to the boy as Renjun gripped his hair tightly in distress. 

“Why bother? Her heart’s filled to the brim, there’s no way I could empty it out like a sink,” Renjun pulled his head out of his hands, his elbows laying on his legs as he threw the golden key to his heart against the carpet floor out of frustration. “You can’t just let your efforts go to waste, Renjun. Did she at least recognise you?” Doyoung asked, leaning over to grab the key and place it back into his younger friend’s palm with a heavy sigh.

He shook his head, turning it to look at the older man who adjusted his monocle. “No, I’d prefer her not to remember who I am than to remember me and not love me in return,” Renjun leaned his cheek against his palm, eyes looking down sadly at his feet. “You can’t just give up like that, Renjun. Love is like a shooting star you’re supposed to seek after, a wish you must grant yourself with the fifty percent chance of getting the outcome you desire,” Doyoung encouraged, leaning back against his palms behind him. 

Renjun chuckled softly, a sad smile appearing on his lips. “I never felt so sad yet so happy at the same time,” he shook his head, pressing his knuckles to his temples hard. “Ah yes, two of the most powerful and impactful emotions of the human soul combined into one,” Doyoung mused, raising a brow at his lovesick friend. “If only she believed me about my heart, her expression tells me that she thinks it’s some kind of sick joke,” he scoffed, kicking the air with one foot as he let out a huff of exhaustion.

“Well, did she say who has captured her heart?” Doyoung asked, raising his brow, causing Renjun’s eyes to shoot up wide. 

The impact of Kim Doyoung’s words have never failed to get Renjun’s adrenaline rushing again through his veins as he walked into your trailer with a small push against your door. “Do I know him?” Renjun asked abruptly, wanting to get straight to the point as he was very eager to know who has captured your heart. “Could you stop barging into my trailer all the time?” you retorted, turning towards him as you put down your makeup brush on your desk. “The boy you’re in love with, do I know him?” Renjun repeated, the gears of his heart racing against his chest.

He doesn’t even know if he wants the answer to that question. “No,” you replied bluntly, adjusting the laces on your dress. “So you’re not in love with him anymore?” Renjun asked, raising his brow as he crossed his arms against his chest and leaned against the door. “No, that’s not what I meant!” you huffed, feeling yourself getting frustrated the more he edged you on. “Look, it was a very, very long time ago when I first met him,” you rolled your eyes.

“It was back when my parents still made me move from city to city. Oh god, that city was practically made for him. The aura of the city radiated the same aura he had back when I first met him, cold and depressing. Nonetheless the more I got to know him, the more I realised that inside he was just a warm human being that needed someone to light up his perspective,” you sighed, clasping your hands together right in front of you. There was a loud ‘cuckoo!’ that pierced both of your ears, and suddenly, a small gear shot from Renjun’s heart and hit the wooden closet right beside you. 

“Would you stop playing with your clock? You could injure someone, it won’t hurt to take it off occasionally, will it?” you exclaimed with a gasp, looking up at him with bold eyes as you put your hands on your hips. “I can’t help it, it’s not some bloody toy! It’s my heart,” he snapped back, his hands balled up into fists as he felt his blood boiling in his veins at the sound of you talking so highly of someone else that wasn’t him. The way you talked about whoever this boy is was the same way he talked about you to everyone else. 

He took a deep breath to calm himself down when he saw your taken aback reaction, “I’m sorry.” You let out a deep sigh as you stood up from your desk, putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort the poor fellow. “Look, I would really appreciate it if we could become friends. How about we go down to the theater tomorrow? I heard Mister Doyoung made a new contraption to add to the cinematic universe,” you suggested, giving him a kind smile as you took his hand in yours to try and cheer him up a bit. 

“I’d really like to go together.” No matter how much his heart was telling him to rest for the rest of his life, no matter how much in pain he’s currently in, but the moment he looked into your eyes, he knew he couldn’t say no. 

-

“Would you care to share more information about your romeo?” Renjun asked, holding his wrist behind him as you two walked outside of the amusement park together after the show. “Oh, don’t call him that. I absolutely despise that specific work of Shakespeare’s,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you hopped over a pebble, grunting as you caught your balance. Renjun chuckled, “why so?” he asked, raising his brow at you. 

“The typical damsel in distress trope never failed to make my blood boil like a pot of water on high heat,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “I prefer to call him my Pip,” you giggled, climbing up a small hill before sitting on top of the grass and laying your head down with a content sigh. “Pip? Why Pip to be exact?” Renjun asked, raising his brow as he took a seat next to your lying figure, leaning back against his palms. “A couple years ago, right before I left. We had this small debate on happy endings and shakespearean works,” you started, gazing up at the starry night sky. 

“I would constantly babble on and on about how women shouldn’t be the damsel in distress, then one day he whipped out this book out of nowhere like some sort of magician! It was called the Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, I finally finished when I left the city so I never got around to returning the book he let me borrowed,” you sighed, placing your hands on your tummy as you giggled at the thought of your first love possibly getting mad at you for leaving without a goodbye with the addition of not returning his book back. 

Renjun’s heart raced at your small story, his body froze as his ears grew a slight tint of pink (which wasn’t very visible, thanks to the dim lighting of the moon shining down upon the two of you) when he realised that you were talking about him. You were talking about him all along. “I realised why he let me borrow the book though, I asked for an unhappy ending without the female protagonist being the damsel in distress. It was a beautiful story, really,” you sighed, closing your eyes as you thought back to the times you shared back in Edinburgh.

“He would always listen to my rambles as he painted some random landscape in town, showing me his talents as well as listening to my words as I ranted about the foolish decisions of the characters. He reminds me of Pip a little bit. A bit childish, a bit foolish, a little bit misunderstood,” you went on, before pausing briefly, eyes opening to look up at your new friend. “Should I stop? I don’t want to bore you with my story, I tend to ramble a lot unintentionally,” you asked, receiving an aggressive shake of Renjun’s head. 

“No! No! Keep going, I’m getting very interested in your story, do continue,” he laughed lightly, looking down at his clock, biting back his lip to keep himself from jumping for joy. “The last day I saw him- oh god, I remember it every night before I go to bed. I never had my glasses on around him, so my memory of his physical appearance is rather blurry. But I remembered it like it was yesterday. Sure, I might not recognize him today with my own eyes but I remembered we almost shared a kiss,” a wide smile stretched across your face as a warm feeling bubbled up inside of you at the vivid memory. 

“Yeah?” Renjun couldn’t help but let a wide smile spread across his own lips at the thought, turning his head to the side to suppress the urge to tackle you in a strong embrace. You remembered. “He offered to be my eyes, he offered to keep me from straying down the wrong path. I never got a chance to say yes,” you giggled, rubbing your palms against your eyes as you felt a giddy feeling inside both of your chests. “Guess he was too eager to kiss you before you could say yes?” Renjun joked, grimacing at his own childishness. 

You chuckled, shrugging simply. “I guess so, I didn’t mind though. It felt exhilarating. I didn’t know how it happened but he also tore a little bit of my dress as well,” you shook your head, looking back up at the stars scattered across the sky. Oh how Renjun was using all the strength vested inside of him to keep his heart from going ‘cuckoo!’ right in front of you right now. “He might not remember me, I sent him a postcard a couple weeks ago. I never received one back. But someday, when we reunite, I’d like to thank him for the lovely book and for teaching me what love feels like.”

“Everytime I’m near his company I would always feel so safe. So happy, so loved. Genuinely happy and genuinely loved,” you sighed, closing your eyes once again as you took in the fresh air. “I’m sure he felt the same,” Renjun felt his cheeks hurting from how wide he was smiling. “Hey, can we see each other again?” he spoke after a moment of comforting silence. “Alright, when?” you opened your eyes, squinting your eyes suspiciously at him. “Noon? At the theater, I have something to tell you,” he grinned. 

“Alright then, is something wrong? Why the funny face?” you chuckled, sitting up from your laying position, cocking your head to the side as you raised your eyebrow at him. “Nothing, I’m just really excited to show you this,” he shook his head, he couldn’t hide his big smile from you any longer. 

Just like how he couldn’t hide his longing and love for you that he has been harboring for the past two years. 

“She’s in love with me,” he said to Doyoung, who gave him a proud grin in return. “Congratulations, my dear boy! You tamed the spark in your heart,” he gave Renjun a pat on the back, who smiled sadly in response. “But there’s a problem. She’s in love with the other me, the one back in Edinburgh,” he sighed, sitting down on one of the seats in the theater. “I don’t see why this is a problem. The ‘you’ back in Edinburgh is still the same ‘you’ now!” Doyoung furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“I assume so, but what am I supposed to say to her?” Renjun ran a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“Tell her how you feel! ‘It’s me! Renjun! The boy you loved oh-so-dearly for all these years! Your first love from Edinburgh, I have travelled far and wide all over Europe to find you, my love. So now let me take your hand and let’s venture and sail for the skies! In each other’s loving embrace!’” Doyoung boomed, throwing his hand in the air to make grand gestures as he spoke, standing up in the midst of his words. 

“Quite poetic, but I tried. The words are jammed at the back of my throat and I can’t let them out,” Renjun huffed, internally cursing at himself for holding himself back because of a small guilt lingering in his chest. “You’re still afraid of what might become of your heart once you fall completely, aren’t you?” Doyoung sympathized, putting a hand on his hip as he frowned upon his young friend’s unfortunate condition. “A part of me is still guilty for putting all of Madam Wendy’s efforts in vain,” Renjun laughed bitterly. 

“I thought you wanted to love and to be loved back, you mustn’t be afraid!” Doyoung encouraged, using the same tone he used previously to influence all of Renjun’s previous actions with a wide toothy smile. “You’re eighteen, you deserve the love you’ve been longing for, Renjun.” 

Renjun bit back a smile, shaking his head out of his insecurities as he stood up to his feet. “You’re right, I should’ve just told her who I was at the start. You have to help me come up with something.”

-

“Renjun? Are you here?” You called out, entering the theater bashfully. “Right here, Ms!” Naeun, Doyoung’s new friend, coaxed, waving her hand to tell you to sit on the front row, right in front of the stage. A familiar merry tune played in the background as the curtains were pulled back to reveal two puppets of what appeared to be you and a familiar little boy from Edinburgh. Doyoung came into view, clearing his throat as Naeun strummed the chords of the song you sang on the day you met your first love with a ukulele in her hand. 

“It was a lovely day in Edinburgh,” Doyoung began, looking towards the puppets. “Little miss y/n who was sixteen years old was dancing around in her dainty shoes, getting her feet all in a tangle before tumbling down to the floor due to her own clumsiness,” Renjun added with a small nervous laugh, moving his own little puppet around and towards the mini puppet version of yourself. “On the day they first met, she would ask ‘what’s that odd pitter patter?’ ‘What’s making that noise?’” Naeun hummed melodiously, causing your eyes to widen with every single word that comes out of their mouths. 

“It’s just the rain, do you like the rain?” Renjun asked, shooting you a short glance as if to say ‘sounds familiar?’

You furrowed your brows, lips pressed into a thin line as you silently watched the performance in front of you, taking every single last bit of information they were sharing into your head as took in the meaning of their words. “Miss Y/n adored the sound of the rain, but however, all this time she didn’t realise that the sound she came to adore came from the tick tock of Renjun’s mechanical heart,” Doyoung recited, looking down on his little card before sharing a knowing look with Renjun and Naeun upon seeing the flabbergasted expression etched on your face.

“Oh, how if he had told her where that pitter patter had come from, would she recognize him the instant they reunite? Would Renjun have to suffer the pain of travelling half across Europe to see her only to not be recognized for the little lady could not rely on her own eyes?” he added on, adding a bit of suspense as the settings on the puppet show changed slightly to the two of you sitting on top of a crescent moon side by side, sending you flashbacks to the last day you saw your first love. 

“Perhaps, if he had told her, would she have believed him and sampled the magical intimacy of blending dream and reality?” 

Soon, your eyes got glossy with tears. Your heart racing rapidly against your chest as you sat there in complete silence, the new information overwhelming your sentences as you watched the two puppets kissed on the crescent moon, the exact same way you were supposed to kiss two years ago. You sniffled, putting a hand up against one of your eyes to keep your tears from falling as Renjun walked up towards you and off of the stage with his hands behind his back. 

The curtains closed as he gave you a boyish smile, outstretching his hand to show you the piece of fabric he accidentally tore from your dress and the postcard you had sent out almost a month ago. You gasped, delicate fingers gently grabbing the postcard to inspect it. It was indeed the postcard you had sent, it was indeed your handwriting, it was indeed the same filthy postcard you sent a month ago. 

Within a few seconds, you fell unconscious as all this information was too much for you to handle. 

“Oh bloody hell, we killed her!” Renjun cried out in panic, taking a step back in alarm at your sudden concussion. Doyoung and Naeun’s head shot from in between the curtains, hissing at him to not panic and carry you back to your trailer. He sucked his bottom lip as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around your knees and your back, making you lean against his chest, your head so close to his. He gulped as he walked out of the theater, nervously praying to whatever God up there is watching him to not make him drop you in the middle of the streets. 

But fortunately for him, he managed to carry you back to your bed safe and sound. Laying your head on the pillow, he stood idly on the side of your bed, watching your sleeping features. You looked so content, his fingers itched to run themselves around your hair and to caress your cheeks. Oh how he longed to nuzzle his nose against yours lovingly and how he longed to press his lips against yours-

‘A single kiss. A brush against your lips could be your last! Just like that, bang!’

He grunted as his body twitched as his guardian’s words flashed through his mind like lightning and thunder, Madam Wendy’s sorrowful expression couldn’t help but make its way through his mind, causing his body to twitch once again. He took deep, staggering breaths as he palmed his heart in pain, eyes moving over to your sleeping figure before Madam Wendy appeared once again in his vision. 

‘Do you know why I saved your life?’

“If you really are the boy from my time in Edinburgh, why did you wait all this time?” 

His head shot up at the sound of your voice, his eyes wandered to your figure as you stared down at the piece of fabric. “What can I say? You’re an idiot, I feared you won’t recognize me considering you’ve never actually used your glasses during our small encounters,” Renjun chuckled sadly, sitting on your bed as you sat up and leaned on the headboard. “You didn’t even say goodbye, I thought you left because you were in shock of my sudden concussion on that day,” he said half-jokingly, putting a hand behind his neck.

You gave him a sad smile, caressing the postcard with your thumb. “My parents were tricked that day. They trusted the wrong person and the police got a hold of them, my mother left me outside all alone so the police wouldn’t find me and take me away too,” you explained, pulling your knees to your chest as you leaned your chin on your arms. “I remembered being so alone, so cold. That’s why I decided to flee Edinburgh, we weren’t allowed to stay for too long. Our neighbour told us they were going to get us permits but the next day… unfortunately that happened.”

Renjun’s heart ached for you, he never wanted to see you sad. Even though you weren’t supposed to be in Edinburgh in the first place, he felt slightly selfish for it. If it weren’t for the fact that your parents had moved her, maybe your parents would still be by your side to this day. However you can’t change what’s been done, the past is the past. He couldn’t do anything to make the pain of losing a parent go away that easily. 

He placed a hand on yours, rubbing his thumb soothingly against your knuckles in a silent attempt to comfort you. You smiled at him, scooting closer to Renjun without hesitation. “I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t know,” Renjun spoke briefly, letting your fingers intertwine with his own tightly. He reached over to his pocket, pulling out the key to his heart and tugged your intertwined fingers together. “I can’t make the pain of losing your loved ones go away like a magician could, but the only thing I can assure you is that I’m not going anywhere and this key is the living proof of it.” 

He laid the small golden key in your palm, tucking your fingers against it. “This is the key that winds me up, without it, I would be knocked out for good,” he chuckled, gazing his eyes deeply into yours. “You can wind me up, open up my heart, do whatever you want,” he shrugged, watching you scoot closer to him and mirrored the same actions as the ones he showed you on the Ghost Train. “If it hurts, don’t hesitate to tell me,” you informed him, turning the key to the right slowly. 

“It doesn’t usually hurt,” he laughed lightly, eyes filled with love and adoration. He felt his heart spark up with the same comforting flame you manage to set. He found comfort in the love of his life gently caressing his fragile heart as if it was made out of the rarest jewels in existence. 

He found comfort in you. You really are the key to his heart. 

“There you are, you little brat!” the owner of the ghost train spat, entering the trailer quite rudely. “You there, what are you doing holding back my employee? As if he doesn’t slack off enough on the job,” she sighed exasperatedly, taking out another cig from her pocket before lighting it up. “You have ten minutes to get there, it’s almost starting,” she hissed, her tone filled with anger and malice as she made her way out of the trailer with a huff of breath.

You and Renjun shared knowing looks, giggling softly as you pulled the key out of his heart. “I think we should get going,” you said in an almost hushed tone as if you were to make a louder sound, you would break the comforting silence between the two of you. You outstretched your hand to give him back his key but Renjun shook his head at you, chuckling softly as he gently curled your fingers against the key in your palms and gently pushed your hand back towards you. 

“Keep it, I insist,” he shook his head. “What? No, don’t be silly! It’s the key to your heart, Renjun. It’s yours, I can’t keep it,” you shook your head receiving the same chuckle from the boy in front of you. “No, from now on, it’s yours,” he grabbed your free hand in his, intertwining your fingers once again. “Let’s run away together,” he suggested, squeezing your hand in his as he crossed his legs together. 

“Excuse me?” your eyes widened at his words. “After your show, run away with me and let’s make the world our oyster,” he gave you the widest grin he could muster, his cheeks was starting to hurt from smiling too much and for too long. He didn’t know where the sudden suggestion came from his mind but he wanted to do what he’s always dreamt of doing with you, to sail for the skies hand in hand with you by his side. (And maybe live a content life in a cottage with three cats and a whole art studio, but that can wait. After all, he’s waited this long to finally reunite with you)

“This is going to sound very cliche but where would we even go?” you giggled, finding his eagerness quite adorable considering it was a rare sight to see, even back when you were still in Edinburgh. “I don’t know, anywhere! The seas, the trees, as long as I’m with you I’m willing to make do with anywhere. As long as you say yes,” he squeezed your hand encouragingly against his, loving eyes pleading for you to say yes. And the smile you gave him was enough to give him his answer.

-

Renjun ran all over the amusement park with his suitcase in hand, the sound of your voice booming through the speakers as he felt the adrenaline rush through his veins, happiness surging through every part of his body. He was finally living, he was no longer going to live in the same, miserable hollow shell he had been living his whole entire life. A bright smile spread across his face as he entered the theater, panting heavily.

“Well then?” Doyoung pipped up, putting his hands at his hips as Renjun gained his composure as though Renjun’s wide smile hadn’t given him the answer he was hoping for. “She loves me, the real me,” he sighed exasperatedly, putting his hands on his chest as he could hardly believe it himself. “Congratulations, my dear boy! I’m delighted for you, absolutely delighted,” he gave Renjun a hug and patted his back as if he was his own younger brother. 

“We’re going to run away for the hills together after her show, I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’m sure I wouldn’t have done this without your help,” Renjun beamed, pulling away to shake his old friend’s hand enthusiastically, his mechanical heart racing rapidly against his chest at the thought of eloping with you all over Europe. “I’m going to miss you, Renjun. Do write to me from time to time,” he gave him a nod, a proud smile etched on his face, causing Renjun to chuckle and nod. “Of course.”

As Renjun was in the middle of packing, your show had finally ended. You snuck back in your trailer to pack your own clothes, but then you saw none other than one of your fellow performers, Choi San, sitting on your desk with a small piece of paper in hand. “San? What on earth are you doing here?” you asked, furrowing your brows as you took out your suitcases from your closet. “I heard you’re going to run off with that new boy,” he grinned, chuckling slightly as he smacked the paper against your desk. “Renjun? Oh! Turns out, he was the boy I fell in love with back in Edinburgh,” you giggled, shoving random clothes into your suitcase, your makeup bags, your shoes, anything you could possibly fit into one single bag. 

“I need to tell you something before you get into serious trouble,” San informed, giving you a hard expression before hopping off your desk to hand you the piece of paper. “I was doing my daily letter checking at the post office and I found this in the mail, it was from Renjun’s guardian from Edinburgh,” he sighed, crossing his arms as you opened the piece of paper to reveal a fancy handwriting underneath. “It tells you everything you need to know about Renjun.” 

You squinted, pulling your glasses from your purse and putting them on. “What are you going on about here, San?” you furrowed your brows as you read through the letter. It was indeed from the ‘Madam Wendy’ Renjun would always rant to you about during your days together back in Edinburgh. “That thing he calls a heart, it’s not what you think it is. It’s a grenade, a ticking time bomb waiting to be triggered, he’s dangerous, y/n,” San informed, his hard expression turning into worry.

“I'm just glad I came here before it was too late,” he sighed in relief, looking down at his feet. “No, San, you must be mistaken. Renjun wouldn’t hurt a fly, he’s absolutely harmless!” You shook your head, refusing to believe his words as you looked down at the letter. “For now, but until he loses control of his heart and therefore fails to abide by the three rules Wendy had given him on the day he was born,” San informed, his eyes narrowing at the letter. 

“The three rules?” you furrowed your brows at him, watching as San’s expression grew dim with sympathy. “Everything you need to know is in that letter, I’ll give you some time to yourself,” San patted your back with a comforting smile before exiting the trailer, leaving you with the letter and your own thoughts. 

-

“Are you trying to make me a murderer?!” you exclaimed, exiting your trailer with your fists clenched up tightly by your side. “Excuse me?” Renjun furrowed his brows in confusion, being taken aback as he took a step towards you with his suitcase in hand. “What are you even talking about?” he asked, letting the air sink back into his lungs from all the running he had to do all over the amusement park. “Madam Wendy told me everything in this letter,” you shoved the letter against his chest, watching as shock took over his features.

“Wendy sent a letter?” he gaped, his jaw dropping to the floor as he inspected what seems to be his caretaker’s handwritten letter. “She told me about the three rules, how you ran away against her wishes, everything! Were you not going to tell me these important details?” you hopped off of the first few steps of your trailer to come closer to the boy you love deeply in front of you. “Or did you forget to tell me something as serious as that?” you snapped, sadness and betrayal flossing over your eyes.

Renjun felt his heart sink into his stomach at your hurtful expression, he was so caught up in the fantasy of running away with you, he completely forgot about his fragile condition for a brief moment. “Who even are you, Renjun? I want to know who’s the man I’m falling in love with,” you gripped the hem of your dress to keep yourself from screaming at him out of pure frustration and anger, feeling your heart ready to explode at the fact that you had the potential to kill him if your relationship proceeded from this far on. 

“I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if you died,” you tried hard to swallow the lump in your throat, looking down to hide your glossy eyes as you tried your best not to think of what would happen to him if you hadn’t received that letter. 

Renjun froze in place, his eyes turning glossy with his own tears as he watched you speak, the words jammed at the back of his throat as he knew, deep down, there was nothing he could do to change your mind. It was far too late, he can’t do anything to change your mind anymore. “I refuse to love you, I refuse to be a murderer. That’s not my idea of love,” you shook your head at him, putting the back of your hand against your eyelids to wipe away the tears. Every word that came out of your mouth felt like a dagger into his mechanical heart. It hurt. Renjun was hurting. His heart was breaking right in front of you, and you both knew it. 

“It’s selfish,” you couldn’t help but splutter out. “No, wait. You got it all wrong, y/n,” he finally spoke up, frustration filling his veins as he found the courage to speak up. “Oh, so you didn’t escape your guardian’s home without permission, thus causing her to worry about you for the past few weeks with no information whatsoever?” you snapped, putting your hands on your hips after you wiped your tears away. “Yes, but that isn’t the problem here!” he shook his head, taking a step towards you as he groaned in frustration. 

“There you go! Oh, so now you’re going to disobey another rule and lose your temper?” 

“It’s not like that! Just listen to me-” Renjun reached his hand out to your face before his body started twitching in pain, causing him to drop on his knees as gears and screws popped out of his heart. You gasped, watching as your lover writhe in pain on his knees, letting out pained grunts for the next fifteen seconds right in front of you. Thus, giving you a brief image of what was going to happen if you continued on. 

“You’re scaring me, Renjun.” 

“I’m sorry.” he breathed out, putting his hand on his knees as he ignored the steaming state of his cuckoo clock heart. Your eyes softened at his guilty figure, your hands laying limp by your sides as you let out a sad sigh. “Goodbye, Renjun.” Were your last words before you walked away from him, leaving him to deal with his own pain. 

“I did the craziest things for you. My life isn’t always topsy turvy when it comes to love, but I put my life in your hands because I truly love you,” Renjun confessed, causing you to pause in your step. You inhaled deeply, not giving him a spare glance. “Yes, I agree, your actions are inhumane at this point, but count me out, Renjun,” you hissed back, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep yourself from shaking and breaking down right in front of him. “I’d prefer you to be hurt like this than dead, I can’t live with myself if I was the reason for your passing,” you sighed, looking down at your shoes briefly.

“Please just leave me alone. I’m not running away with you.”

You didn’t look back as you walked away, ignoring the sound of a distraught Renjun getting to his knees, holding his heart in pain. His eyes scrunched up in pain as he let out small grunts, trying to get to his feet back to make his way back to the theater. He collapsed back to the concrete ground as soon as he got to his feet, the ear piercing sound of his clock falling apart before him lingered in his mind as cogs and screws popped out of his makeshift heart. He wanted to scream out your name and plead for you to come back into his embrace, but he knew you wouldn’t turn back. 

So he did the only thing that came into his mind in order to stop this unbearable pain. He got up to his feet, putting two hands on his clock and pulled hard, ignoring the physical pain it brought him as he tried to rip out his own heart from his chest. Letting out a scream of pain as he collapsed to the floor, pieces of wood and metal scattering across the floor and drops of blood dripping from the doors of his heart. 

“Renjun!”

Doyoung and Naeun came up to Renjun as quickly as they could, holding him up as he coughed heavily. “I want to change into a new clock, I’m so tired of this one constantly falling into bits every time I feel the slightest bit of joy,” he mumbled almost monotonously, letting out another fit of coughs afterward. “Madam Wendy was right,” he added with a light painful laugh. “I suppose I have some spare parts to help you fix your clock from my camera, I’ll go get them-” Doyoung insisted but Renjun gripped on the older man’s wrist urgently. 

“No, I want a new heart. I’m tired of this one. One that works. I’ll never fall in love again,” he leaned over, cupping his mouth as he coughed once again, feeling more gears pop out of his clock like a confetti from a canon. “You’re running out of time, Renjun, you must seek help immediately. Is there anything you can do to salvage what’s left of your heart until you get back to Edinburgh?” Doyoung asked, furrowing his brows. “I can’t, I gave the key to Y/n. She left me, I can’t get it back anymore,” Renjun shook his head sadly, looking down at his own blood staining his fingertips.

“That key is your life, Renjun! You took a huge risk,” Doyoung shook his head at how deeply in love the boy in front of him was. “I know,” he mumbled, his words becoming more breathy by the moment. “You must return to Edinburgh and have Wendy patch you up again, it’s the only way to save your life,” Doyoung slung an arm around his shoulder, lifting him up as Naeun helped with carrying his suitcase. 

Doyoung led a heartbroken Renjun onto a carriage to the nearest train station. He insisted on coming with the young lad but Renjun wanted to face the consequences of his actions alone, he couldn’t bear to rip his friend away from the path of success he was walking into. So, with a heavy heart, Renjun rode the train back to Edinburgh with his eyes closed and his heart hurting like hell against his chest. 

‘This must be the same feeling Pip went through when Estella finally broke his heart to elope with some other man she didn’t love.’ he thought bitterly to himself.

-

“Madam Wendy what?” your jaw dropped as San shared a new bit of information. 

He leaned over, showing you the newspaper he was reading which informed you that Madam Wendy had passed in her prison cell. Apparently, she was caught for tampering with mechanics on a dangerous level with her other patients and was thrown in jail once again, but the disappearance of her adopted child had a great impact on her health, therefore she left her body in the cell she was staying in. 

“Oh, no. Oh dear god, no,” you hopped out of San’s performance tent, patting your pockets and pulling out the key that belongs to Renjun’s heart. “What’s wrong?” San asked, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth as he stood up as well, worried as his brows furrowed in confusion. “Renjun gave me the key to his heart, I forgot to give it back,” you yelled back, running as quick as you could to the theater, the only place where Renjun could be at the moment. 

You knocked as hard as you could, calling out the boy’s name in a panic. “Miss Y/n? What are you doing here?” Doyoung asked, opening the door as he rubbed his eyes from the lack of sleep. “Can you tell me where I can find Renjun? I still have the key to his heart,” you asked in an abrupt tone, showing the older man the key in your palms. “Nothing to worry about, Miss! He’s on his way back to Edinburgh as we speak, Doctor Wendy can patch him up in a jiffy!” Doyoung smiled. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of, oh god, no. But Madam Wendy’s passed away,” you informed, clenching your fists with the key in your hand. Doyoung’s eyes widened in surprise, his face turning pale at your words. “Oh boy, that isn’t good news. Go after him, hurry! Save Renjun before it’s too late, that’s what he wants more than anything. I put him on a carriage to the nearest train station. If you’re lucky, you might catch him on the train before it departs,” Doyoung rummaged through his bag, pulling out a random journal. 

“Here, take this. In case you don’t catch up to him, here’s something to read on the way. It’s a journal I kept ever since the very day I met Renjun,” he handed you the journal as Naeun called another carriage for you to ride to the train station. You sighed, your head filled with worry as you looked up at the two adults willing to help you save Renjun despite the fact that you were the main reason why he was in this mess in the first place. 

“Thank you.”

-

Renjun laid in the snow, near the house where he used to call home. Sniffling as he leaned against the tree at the bottom of the hill. Joy and Yeri had contacted him and brought him the news of his caretaker’s passing. Sulking as guilt took over his body, regretting every single decision he had made the past few months. And now he’s going to suffer the consequences of dying all alone. He couldn’t walk into his own home after the news, choosing to lay down under the snow to let himself slowly freeze to death and possibly hypothermia. 

So now, he was taking his last few breaths, enjoying the bright sky as he watched his skin froze, tears slowly turning into eyes as he laid there all heartbroken and damaged. His hair was white from the snowfall, with bits of brown peaking out in between as he sniffled and sobbed over the loss of his mother. Taking deep breaths to regain his composure, as his skin grew numb against the cold. 

“Renjun! I’m here!” 

It was as if the God above had decided to send an angel back to help him, he slowly looked up with half lidded eyes, a small shaky smile spreading across his lips as you fell to your knees to help him. “Renjun, oh dear god, no,” you whimpered, leaning close as you laid a hand on his jaw, making him lean his head up to look at you weakly. You grimaced at his cold skin, it felt like ice to you. It was as if he was turning into a giant ice cube right in front of you.

His appearance made your heart break. He looked so pale and broken since the last time you saw him. His eyes were red and swollen from the tears, snow gathering on his eyelashes, eyebrows, hair and clothing. Hell, he was wearing nothing but the thin coat he wore the last time you saw him. Dried blood was stuck to his cuckoo clock heart which was in a worse condition than it was back in Andalusia. You ran your thumb over his soft cheek, making him lean his face against your warm touch as you wiped the snow away from his skin. His breathing was slow, as if he was taking every breath he could before his last. 

With a shaky hand, you placed what's left of his heart back into their original place, your breathing becoming shaky as you held back your tears. It truly hurt you to see Renjun in this state, you knew he was on the brink of death. You didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if you had arrived much much later.

You pulled out the key to his heart from the inner pocket of your coat, leaning forward to press the key into his heart. But alas, his hand stopped you as he gently gripped your wrist and pulled it away from him. “No, I’m not too late. I’m not letting you die here, just let me turn the key,” you shook your head, blinking back the tears as you pushed your glasses up from the bridge of your nose. “I came back to save you, please just let me do this,” you pleaded, caressing his cheek with your thumb in a futile attempt to convince the love of your life to let you save him. 

“You came all the way back for me,” a tear streaked down Renjun’s cheek which froze under the cold atmosphere, sticking to his cheek. “That’s the most extraordinary turn you could ever give my heart,” he laughed slightly, half lidded eyes trying their best to stay open as his vision began to grow blurry and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was losing consciousness or if it was because of the tears he was holding back.

He tugged the key out of your hand before tossing it over the hill. “No, Renjun, what did you do?!” you panicked, your eyes growing wide at the key disappearing from your line of vision. “No, why did you do that?” you shook your head at him, pressing your body close to him as he leaned his back against the tree. “From now on, whatever happens to me,” Renjun spoke, giving you the same boyish smile he sent your way on your last day in Edinburgh two years ago. “I’ll only have myself to blame,” he sighed, intertwining your free hand with his icy cold one. 

“So now you can kiss me.” 

Your heart broke as you finally let your tears go, squeezing his hand tightly in yours as you sniffled. “As I said before, the things you do are absolutely inhumane,” you pushed your forehead against his, feeling your tears hit his wet clothes as you felt his other hand go to your jaw. “I’m just upset I never got to give you the painting I’d been working so hard on for all these years,” he chuckled, his eyes growing even more red as his tears streamed down his face like a leaking tap.

He caressed your jaw in his hand, eyes scanning your face one last time as he came with the fact that this was your last goodbye before he leaves for good. “If we were ever to be reborn again, I would still wish and pray for the gods to make you my first and last love,” he couldn’t help but laugh to stifle a sob that erupted from his throat. “And if we were ever to be reborn again, I hope you can always continue to smile like that until the day you close your eyes for good,” you nuzzled your forehead against his, sniffling hard. 

Thus with eyes clenched shut, you and Renjun pressed your lips together in unison for a passionate yet innocent kiss. You could hear the last strike of Renjun’s ticking clock, a loud ‘cuckoo’ piercing the quiet atmosphere as Renjun pulled you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your back and leaning his head to the side for a better angle. Your warm soft lips pressed onto his cold chapped ones, wet from the snow.  Your intertwined hands squeezing each other as you felt his mechanical heart put a ring on your own.

The next time Renjun opened his eyes, he was at the gates of heaven, standing in front of an actual angel with a bright expression on his face. “Huang Renjun, I assume?” the angel greeted, a soft smile spreading across their face as Renjun nodded. “You seem a bit too young to be up in heaven. Aren’t you just 18 years old?” the angel asked, pulling out a clipboard to look through Renjun’s life data. “I was almost nineteen, though,” Renjun shrugged, his wide smile never disappearing from his facial features.

“I’m so sorry you had to leave life so soon, young man,” the angel cooed, taking out a pen from their desk as they began to fill out Renjun’s form for his plans now that he’s in the afterlife. “Care to tell me what happened while I do the paperwork for you?” the angel asked, sticking their tongue out as they wrote Renjun’s life information on the glowing paper with a messy handwriting, reminding him of the postcard you had sent him less than a couple months ago. 

Renjun looked around the bright place he was in, sighing heavily as he stared up the gates of heaven with a content expression. He swiped his tongue over his pink lips as he finally felt his heart no longer empty, 

“I fell in love.” 

a/n: i didn’t like how this turned out lmfao but oh well HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, HUANG RENJUN MWUAH

¤ taglist: @leetaeyonglover @lebrookestore @oifelixcmerebrou @vera-liscious @kunrengui @thats-a-jen-no-no

[minachuuu]

Mafia!Red Velvet Reaction to being teased for their soft spot on their S/O

⚠ TW: Swearing, guns, knifes, mention of kidnapping & murder.

Irene

A feared boss in her city, her gang is known for pledging an undying allegiance to her, and while every rival family tries and tries to look for one, it's bold of anyone to believe Joohyun has any type of weakness. But that doesn't mean that she isn't capable of loving. 

Of course you knew about her job and her status, but everything about her ruthless reputation sounded so wrong to you. She wasn't sinister, heartless and wicked at all, but a super attentive, caring and sweet girlfriend. Your only connection to that world was your girlfriend, both being completely clear that you didn't want in on the business. But even if Joohyun knew to separate her personal life from her workplace, some of her subordinates sometimes mistake her amiability and cross lines she defends very ardently. 

A disappointed and terrified gasp filled the table when a newly promoted subordinate had the guts to get you into the conversation unprompted and even jokingly call you the 'weak spot' of the gang. His laughter started dying after nobody followed him into the joke, only to be instantly cut when the click of a gun was heard at the end of the table. 

"It's never a bad time to remind you all of certain rules," Joohyun's mouth was far from a smile, as she waved the point of the gun around the table, finally landing over the petrified man. "Just in case any of you forgot."

The man gulped hard, his hands shaking in the armrests of his chair as Irene went out in a knife-cutting tension rant, enough to make everyone, even the closest members sweat their nerves out. 

"... But Y/N name is not to be out of anyone's mouth but mine." Joohyun put away the gun, not lowering her guard and the killing glance. "I hope it's perfectly clear, because I only warn once."

Seulgi

If it wasn't for the fact that Seulgi and some of her gang members were on the most wanted lists across the world, anyone could be fooled into thinking they were a totally normal, high-end suburban family. Since you both started seeing each other more seriously, she was clear about her job and identity, and enthusiastically introduced you to her gang. 

Of course you were a little scared at first, but everyone received you with open arms and warm smiles. And even if you wanted nothing to do with the business itself and Seulgi respected that, you couldn't avoid some of the reunions that came with being a partner of the boss. 

"I'm trying to close the deal with the casino owner down the strip, but if he doesn't agree with this final terms we'll be forced to get rid of hi-" You arrived at the table with a hot cup of coffee for her, as her tone, face and eyes completely shifted, glowing mesmerized by your image."Thank you sweetheart, come take a seat!"

The rest of the gang at the table started chuckling at the image in front of them: the one and only unbreakable boss, all melted at the sight of her lover. She scanned around, taken aback by the laughter until one subordinate dared talking. 

"Not to be a disrespectful boss," The man was lightly giggling through his words, but intending no harm. "But it's a little hard to take you seriously about exterminating someone when you look like a huggable teddy bear." 

All the room laughed at the comment, including Seulgi herself. She could take all the teasing the members wanted, but the moment anyone laid a finger over you, it's a total game over for them and they knew it. 

Wendy

There still were some things that you hadn't got completely used to even after all this time dating Seungwan, especially the entire mafia thing. She was such a sweetheart with you that when you joined her and her gang members on the meetings and that sort of stuff, it was so weird for you to listen about kidnappings, money and sometimes even murder coming directly from her mouth as if it was a normal theme for conversation. 

The family actually liked you and had a good relationship with you (Pity for anyone who didn't and Seungwan heard about it), but they also knew that you didn't want to get involved with the business at all, so they mostly stayed out of your way and off their mouths. But there were other unfortunate times when someone blurred the lines and dared crossing them. 

Driving to your summer home, two subordinates, your girlfriend and you joked around like normal people for once. Everything was doing just fine until the man on the copilot seat decided to abuse the trust of the situation a little too much. 

"You should know Y/N," He started chuckling, "I had never seen Seungwan so head-over-heels for a dumb wh*re befor-" 

Not a second had passed when the man was already being pinned back to his seat, with a knife pressed against his throat. 

"I didn't know you decided to practice comedy!" Seungwan kept laughing as she caressed his skin with the blade. "That was to die for! Don't you think?" 

The man immediately apologized, begging for his life with every word, when Seungwan slowly took the knife back to her pocket. 

"It's Mrs. Son for you." She snapped, taking your hand in hers. "You wouldn't want me to remind you about respect a second time."

Joy

For being a big mafia boss, Sooyoung was a pretty venerated figure in the city. Her gang was known mostly for investing around the city and being overall pacific, of course, unless provoked. Nobody could deny the closeness of the family either, but it didn't mean it was all flowers and rainbows, it's a power game after all. 

One that became a little more tense when you started dating the one and only boss, almost immediately after being welcomed into the family. Some of the other members thought you had no right to be by Sooyoung's side all the time, always locked in her office with her when there were members devoting their entire life to the business, as if being her partner was a position to be employed for. 

"I thought the boss would be more intelligent than that," One of the subordinates started, "Y/N has her under their grasp, it's getting ridiculous."

"Y/N doesn't even have the guts it takes to be in the business," Another subordinate followed. "It just makes the boss look wea-" 

"Excuse me? It makes me look how?" Sooyoung's voice coming through the door made every person's hair stand on end, as she walked past fixing the cuffs on her shirt. 

There was nothing that annoyed her more than those comments. Being the chief of a large and busy family was overwhelming at best and the fact that you were a little more outside of the whole thing wasn't a hindrance, it was her perfect escape from this black and white reality she led. 

"There are so many things that can be considered weak, like rumors, infighting, and even that blazer." Sooyoung pointed at one of the subordinates' clothes as she continued talking, everyone's legs shaking from terror. "But loving someone is not and will never be a weakness."

Yeri

When she told you that she was the Kim Yerim, the youngest mafia boss to ever be wanted by governments across the world, you thought it was all a joke. There was no way this caring, funny, kind woman was the one and only leader of the biggest gang in the city. But she was. 

And the surprises definitely didn't stop there. The reputation of the gang was absolutely nothing short of coldblooded, so of course it was surprising when the entire family received you as one of theirs into their circle. You stayed off their affairs, but still were a very welcomed presence at dinner and parties. The higher ranked started treating you as one of their own, teasing you and their boss, drinking and laughing, even protecting you when Yerim wasn't around. 

But there was an unfortunate day for one clerk though, because just as you both were leaving the dinner party, you over heard from his mouth call you both a 'bootlicker boss and their dumb sidechick'. 

"Hey," Yerim's call was enough for the man's face to go translucent, as she pointed back at him. "Follow me to the office please…"

You were safely escorted back to your house, where Yerim arrived later in the evening and refused to talk further on the matter. The next time you came back, you greeted everyone but didn't fail to notice a tense air going around in your presence. That's when it dawned on you. 

That clerk that insulted you was nowhere to be seen. Everyone, even you, knew exactly what happened to him. 

"It's not bad to remind the rest of their place," Yerim placed a kiss on your cheek as she intertwined her fingers with yours. "If I don't set the boundaries, who else will?"

[thesmokingguns]

warning: smoking, slight smut, drug use

Wendy and The Lost Boys

CHAPTER FIVE

Sasha sat in class, her notebook open and pen in her mouth as she looked out the window. It had been two weeks since she had been back to the apartment.  After she had hooked up with Nikki she had tried to not be around the guys. Even when she worked at the club she’d call a taxi or Len would pick her up after her shift. She was aware that she was avoiding Nikki but she wasn’t sure what to do to fix it. After she had slept over a couple weeks ago she had worn so much cover up or scarfs to cover the marks Nikki had left on her. When she undressed she had seen the purple hickeys and angry looking bite marks. He had done it to show her not to make him jealous or he’d mark what was his. It wasn’t like she was hooking up with anyone at school. Len was a good boy towards her and she knew he was trying to take it slow before weaseling it to get her. He was one of the guys who were looking for a girl who came to school for a wife degree. But Nikki had made it impossible to even think about fooling around with someone else. All she could think about was the feeling of his mouth on her body and how when he kissed her she couldn't even think. She had known she had a crush on him but it was becoming apparent to her it meant more than she had expected

The sound of books shutting made her aware that the seminar was over. It was a Friday afternoon so everyone was hustling around campus heading home or off to get ready for the night. Sasha was working that night and was scheduled for an earlier afternoon shift the following day. She was only working two days a week unless she picked up other shifts but the money was better than most places. As she slipped into the blue costume she’d be wearing that night she looked around her dorm. With her schedule she needed to stay at the apartment. It made the most sense. She threw everything in her overnight back and headed to the bus stop. She’d need to call Tommy to give him a heads up about staying over.

“Sasha is staying over tonight. I’m going to grab some beers for her because she said she won’t come out with us.” Tommy said headed to the window to leave the apartment Nikki looked up from where he had been writing a song on the couch trying to process what he was told. After they had hooked up Sasha had vanished. She called Tommy sometimes but she wasn't around at all. He had thought about calling her or even driving the fifteen minutes away to her dorm room but there was nothing to really say.

Nikki loved the rockstar lifestyle. He loved the attention women would shower on him at shows or pretty much anywhere on the strip. He loved always having someone giving him booze or drugs when he wanted them and even when he didn’t. He loved all the eyes on the stage watching him and his band play the songs he created. The rush of it all was everything that he had dreamed of in his life. The problem with how much he loved the rockstar life meant that he wasn’t going to settle down. Sasha was a good girl and if there was someone who was worth settling down with it would be her but not now. Now when the band was putting out their first record and she was finishing her first semester of college; it wasn't the time for either of them to commit.

But Nikki hadn’t stopped thinking of her. Even though he knew he couldn’t be with her he still remembered every inch of her body and wanted more of it. He could feel her kiss still racing through him throwing him off balance. He could smell her on his sheets and feel her against him in his dreams. He was hooked on her with constant thoughts that no amount of alcohol or drugs seemed to numb. And now she would be in the apartment tonight and he would know she was there. How was he supposed to hit the Strip thinking of her in the house alone? He groaned, kicking the table sending bottles shattering onto the carpet. The fucking apartment was a mess and he was sure she would start cleaning it without anyone asking her to

They needed to move out of this dump. It was only him and Tommy living there now. Mick had moved in with a girlfriend; he was sick of the constant parting going on, never giving him a break to rest his back and the fact the place was always a mess. Vince had gotten married to his girlfriend Beth and they were renting a place together, playing family in the house well he would come out with the band most nights and run astray, Nikki didn't get the point of getting married and sleeping around like Vince did, They were too young to be worried about having old ladies keeping them in check. He even worried about Mick missing out and he was the old man of the group.Tommy was the youngest and he always managed to have a girlfriend because he thought he loved every other woman he met. Maybe, Nikki though, I’m just cut from a different cloth. He had been by himself for so long he didn’t know what value there was in love.

Sasha shook her head as she lit a cigarette. Tommy had told her that he was going to pick her up after her shift but it was 1120pm and he was twenty minutes late so she didn't expect him to come. She lit her cigarette headed down the strip to the apartment. She hated walking down the strip by herself, not that she was scared but more because she was so used to doing it with one of the Crue boys by her side. She was glad she had changed into her Keds before leaving but made a mental note that she would need to throw her bag at the apartment before her shift or take over one of Tommy’s draws. She yawned as she turned past the Whisky to the apartment hoping that there wasn’t some party going on. She was pleasantly surprised to find the house empty.

“Jesus fuck.” she gagged, her hand flying to cover her mouth at the smell. “I’m going to fucking kill them.” she said to herself. There was trash everywhere and it smelled like they hadn’t done any basic cleaning in months. A ripped up map was hanging outside of the bathroom and she peaked inside and wanted to scream. It had been two weeks since she had been there but a couple months since she cleaned the place. “Fucking children.” she moved into Tommy’s room stepping on a used condom and literally gagging. She was going to kill all of them.She changed into her pair of shorts, even though it was cold and tucked in a sweatshirt with the UCLA logo on the front. If she was going to sleep here she needed to clean it up.

The trash hadn’t been taken out since god knows when, and when she started moving the pile she ran with the cockroaches that came rushing towards her. It took her over an hour to get the trash into the apartment's garbage and by then she was crashing. Sasha took a half of one of her pills that she usually used to help her focus when she was studying. She wanted to get a few hours of cleaning done, not sure that it would actually really do anything to the house but at least someone should put in the effort.

It was three in the morning and she was still going strong, a warm bucket of water and bleach as she cleaned the walls in the living room. Hall and Oates were blaring on the record player as she danced around to the song. She had done all the laundry, dishes, cleaned the bathroom including buying toilet paper, made Tommy and Nikki’s bed, and was still going strong. She clapped her hands as she dropped the rag into the bucket. The sound of the needle skipping had her turning, looking at Nikki. She hadn't heard him come in so her heart had skipped a beat.

“Do you understand people know this is our apartment and we have a reputation to keep up with? You can’t be listening to this shit in the apartment.” he picked the record up, snapping it in half, watching the way her mouth fell open. She was shocked he had gotten so mad that he broke her record that he knew she loved. “Imagine if someone came by and here you are pretending to keep fucking house with your shitty disco music. For someone in college you should use hit fucking head.” she was staring at him, blue eyes watering. Nikki was notorious for being the asshole of the strip but he was never like this with her. Her mouth was open slightly as if she didn’t even know what to say to him yelling at her. She hadn’t been yelled at since the last night with her ex. Nikki moved over only stopping when he saw her flinch at him advancing towards her, her arm coming up like she was going to cover herself. He realized at that moment that he messed up. The tears were falling now and she wiped them with the back of her hands, noticing they were shaking.

“I’m sorry. “ she stepped back, fumbling as she picked up the bucket of water. She was moving to the sink, her heart racing. The water got dumped out and she placed the empty bucket under the kitchen sink. “Can I have my record?” she asked her hands out wanting the two pieces that he was holding. He handed them over not sure what to say. “Thanks.” Sasha stuffed them into the sleeve and headed to Tommy’s room, shutting the door behind her. She wanted to leave the apartment but she was afraid

He knew that he had fucked up as soon as he grabbed the record, snapping it like that and then yelling at her was overkill. The whole night he had been thinking of her back in the apartment. He had been so distracted that he barely realized what or who he was doing. He had thought about staying at the girls house who he had slept with but the idea of leaving Sasha alone in the apartment had him stumbling home. And when he saw her through the window, God she was beautiful. All her blonde hair and her ever present shorts drove him crazy.  The way she was so in her world as she cleaned up all the shit that they had left, taking care of them in a way that only she could care enough to do. He stumbled into his room stopping when she saw the bed made, the empty beer cans cleared out, clothes hanging on the hangers in the closet. So he had fucked up even more because she was just trying to help.

“Fuck.” he was turning to go knock on Tommy’s door before he could talk himself out of it. The door opened and she answered it looking up at him, “I’ll go to Tower Records tomorrow and get you a new record. I shouldn’t have broken it, even though it sucks.” He ran his hands over his head feeling the knots of Aquanet teasing not allowing him to run his fingers through it. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” he didn't want to look at her and see her upset.

“You don’t have to buy me a new record. I shouldn’t have left it here.” there was a tension between them and it was just heightened with the fight they were just having. “And I’m sorry I cleaned the apartment. I just wanted to do something nice since you guys let me stay here.” Of course was doing something nice for him, that’s who she was.

“Are you going to be okay sleeping by yourself?” he looked at her, seeing the way that her eyes flashed almost annoyed at him when he asked that question. Sasha could see the lipstick down his neck and knew if he was coming back to the apartment at 3am that he had been with some girl.

“Yeah. I think I’m getting to be like you, Sixx.” the way her tone was turning bitter surprised the bassist, “I mean you didn’t have to come back here tonight But you like being alone and I respect your space.” She knew where he had been and now he knew she wasn’t going to be the one that acted like he hadnt been fucking someone else.

“I came back here because I knew that you would be here.” Nikki told her, his hand on the door to block it from closing. She was angry at him for hurting her feelings again and mad at how he always was. He thought he was speaking volumes to her but she just looked mad at him.

“So you decided to come here to start a fight with me and break my record. That’s good to know. Now I know where you stand with me.” she was mad at him and her stomach was turning. He was such an idiot and Sasha didn’t know why she liked this moron who never said the right thing. He reached out and she closed her eyes, “I don’t like smelling some other girls perfume on you.” She told him and that was true. Knowing what Nikki did and having to experience it was a lot different.

“So why don’t I go shower and you meet me in my room?” He asked her to look at him so he could kiss her. She shook her head stepping back from him. The fact he was so casual about if made her even more mad.

“We can’t, Nikki. I want too much of you and you don’t want enough of me.” Her words meant nothing to him, despite it being kind of true.

“I think we both want the same thing. Even if it’s just for tonight.” She looked at him giving Nikki the opportunity to kiss her. Once their lips were locked, it was like a free for all. He lifted her easily slamming her into the wall. Her legs were around his waist and her hands buried in his hair. This fire between them as they both were starved for the other.

“I can’t have sex with you.” She managed to get out, making Nikki chuckle his mouth on her throat well he used one of his hands to get up her shirt. The feeling of her breasts in his hands had him pushing into her so she could feel how hard she made him. Sasha was pressed against the wall with him rocking into her wondering if she was going to cum from him dry jumping , “Wait, I’m serious.” She moaned out watching as his green eyes held hers.As much as she wanted to there needed to be a shred of self preservation, “I won’t have sex with you if you’ve slept with someone tonight.” He knew she was serious now and rolled his eyes.

“It’s past midnight. I should get a do over.” She was already wiggling her way to her feet. “You aren’t going to do anything?” He asked, watching her. She shook her head and Nikki wanted to punch something but his temper had already flared once. “What am I supposed to do?” He asked as she moved to go back into Tommy’s room.

“Use your hand and imagination.” The door was almost closed, “Like I’m going to do.” She shut the door hearing him groan and smiling.

“Okay, angel.” Sasha heard him outside the door. “I’ll play by your rules, just for tonight. But I want to either see you or hear you explain everything you’re doing.” She gulped because she couldn’t play games like this with Nikki. He knew more than her and wanted things she didn’t know how to give to him. Nikki couldn’t look and not touch. She knew that as much as he did but she was opening the door anyway letting him pull her into his room already breaking his no touch rule. Sasha was vaguely aware at this point that her feelings were going to get really hurt.

His mouth was on hers, her clothes being discarded before she could even figure out what he was doing. It was like she was falling in a spiral. Nothing made sense and she would collapse if Nikki had his hands on her back pretty much keeping her steady.

“Why does everything feel so good with you?” She whispered as his mouth went lower. He was nudging her on the bed. “Maybe because I feel safe with you and I trust you.” She sighed out wiggling under his hands. His lips were on her hips but when she spoke he stopped looking up at her blue eyes.

“You trust me?” He asked her feeling frozen in the moment. Sasha pushed herself up on her elbows looking at him.

“Of course I trust you. You’re always making sure no one touches me at shows and during the summer you’d split your food with me. You always tell me how things are and don’t sugar coat it. I like that.” Nikki almost fell on his ass. His hands slid up her body moving to kiss her, this time slowing things down instead of rushing her. Sasha surprised him when she rolled on top of him pulling off his shirt. Nikki hadn’t had anyone trust him before. When she confided in him it was like it made something realer between them. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted her but now he could lose something he didn’t know he valued.

“That’s just how you should treat people.” He said his hands in her hair. She was five years younger than him but they both evened each other out in areas the other didn’t. If he was going to settle down it would be with her. He just needed her to get college so she could sow all her wild oats. She laughed at him and he frowned, “What is funny about what I just said?” he asked her, his hands behind his back. There had never been a time where a girl was naked on his lap and he talked this much. Usually he saved the pillow talk for,...never.

“Nikki, you’re literally one of the rudest people I have ever met in my life. “ he frowned at that and she touched his cheek. The small motion had him looking up at her, redirected, “You literally pissed on someone outside of The Roxy the night of my birthday because you didn’t like his shoes.” he smirked remembering that night. “And I haven’t had the best track record with people so when someone is nice to me it just means a lot.” she seemed to realize that she was naked on top of him but the way his fingers were dancing over her back.

“Do you think I should be mean to you so people don’t know?” he asked her, his hands on her hips pushing Sasha into his body. He did try to be a little mean to her to keep her on her toes and he did have a shitty personality.

“Don’t know what?” she asked, licking her bottom lip as she leaned closer into him. She could drown in kissing Nikki and wouldn’t even ask for a life raft. He did his side smirk, his hand sliding down her cheek and into his hair.

“I think we’ve talked enough, Angel.” he wasn’t going to tell her he liked her and set her up to be hurt even more but Sasha wasn’t going to let him go that easy. Her hands on his shoulders as she looked down at him.

“Tell me.” she was giving him this look, “Or do you want me to guess?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow. His hands were running up and down her sides and she knew that she was getting distracted.

“Forget I said anything, Angel.” he laid her down moving so he could be on top of her. Nikki put his lips on her. She was wiggling again and he sighed. “Why don’t we just sleep if you’re not going to let this go?”he asked her. He rolled holding her in his arms. She was quiet.

“I like you too. Even though you’re a huge asshole. And sometimes you stink from not showering.” She whispered. Nikki listened to her, frowning. The last thing he needed was to hurt her. But Sasha was smart, ambitious, good looking, and Nikki didn’t want to be the one to ruin her shine. Yet he was pulling her closer burying his face in his his as he fell asleep. Everyone was going to get hurt by this.

[thisiswhatshefelt]

For Olivia | Chapter Two

Summary: Line cook Johnny “Coco” Cruz has made many bad decisions in his life, but his biggest regret is not being a part of his children’s lives. He reconciles with his teenage daughter, Letty, so he’s hopeful when he shows up on his four-year-old daughter’s doorstep. Shanice Hunter, a newly-appointed guardian, is determined to protect Olivia from anything— even if that means her own father.

Pairing: Chef!Coco x Black!OC Previous Chapter: One Warnings: This chapter kind’ve deals with a deadbeat parent, but we’re still in fluffy territory for now. Word Count: 2.7k

Chapter Two

~Six months ago~ Mel calls from outside the apartment the night. She’s at the door wearing the same smudged eyeliner she left with two days before, but she’s replaced her party dress with cheap, baggy clothing that are three times too big for thin frame. Her once flat ironed hair is reverting at the edges of her hairline. Shanice quietly eases outside so they can sit together on the steps.

“Do you remember when I first had her, and I begged you to take her? You promised me that I would learn. That I would get it right.” Mel rings the sweatshirt between her hands as if squeezing water from the fabric. Her hands become dryer between her fingers and at the knuckles the more she works her hands. “I’ve never gotten it right, ‘Nice. Not one time, so I’m asking you again–Please. Just until I get it together. I have to figure something out.”

Shanice sees how exhausted Mel appears in this moment. The weight of something more than two sleepless nights darken under her eyes. She’s never looked this tired. “What happened over there?”

She smiles even though there are tears falling from her eyes. “What happens in Vegas…” Shanice just stays silent, looking at her friend. Seeing the fracture splinter out even more. When she reaches out to pull Mel’s hand away from the bedraggled clothing, Mel’s lip begins to tremble. “He took everything, ‘Nice. Maxed out all my credit cards before I even realized he wasn’t coming back to the hotel room. A-All my jewelry, I don’t…”

“Oh, Mel,” Shanice says, and it’s all she can say as she moves herself closer to embrace the scared woman. “You can stay here with me until-”

“No, I can’t,” Mel objects, shaking her head and pulling away like she’s been burned. Shanice is about to insist, but Mel’s hand between them quells anymore protests. “I can’t. I have to do this on my own. Will you take her? It would just be until she starts Kindergarten–”

“Of course, Mel. I love her.”

The wrinkled paper, which she realizes is torn from a roll of receipt paper, now sits taut between her pinched fingers. It had his name and number scrawled on one side in handwriting that didn’t look that much different from the scribbling Olivia brings home from preschool.

Shanice doesn’t sleep well after Johnny appears on the doorstep. She doesn’t even leave Olivia’s bed when the bedtime stories end. For hours, she lays beside the girl, recalling past conversations she’d had with her best friend.

It feels strange to still call her ‘best friend’ now, though. Life divides Shanice and Melanie’s paths after college, but they regain closeness once Mel suddenly becomes pregnant and names Shanice the godmother. Shanice plays guardian even before Olivia is born, making sure Mel takes her prenatal vitamins and makes sure she keeps up with her doctor visits.

Now Shanice lays beside the girl so that their noses are almost touching, but her legs are too long for the mattress, so she has to tuck her knees up to fit. Loose strands of Olivia’s tight chestnut curls fall onto her eyelashes and Shanice tucks the strand back into one of her plaits.

Most people assume they’re related in some way because of how superficially similar they appear in passing. Shanice’s deep skin is just a few shades darker than Olivia’s tawny complexion. Their dark hair zig zags in soft, defiant halos when let out of the confines of twists or braids, but Mel is right there at the middle of Olivia’s face.

The bridge of her nose slightly widens before sloping into a rounded tip and it’s all Mel. Shanice leans in close to take in all of her scent before kissing her between the eyes and watching her breathe until sleep finally claims them both.

In the morning, Shanice is uncharacteristically sluggish, but that changes with her first cup of coffee. The morning ritual is completed with most of her mind on autopilot as Olivia talks at a million miles an hour through outfit changes and getting her hair styled into two French braids.

Shanice doesn’t realize she hasn’t been listening to most of the little girl’s one-sided conversation until the waffles pop up in the toaster. She juggles the hot waffles out of the machine and onto a plate before adding syrup and sliding it across the counter.

“Can we go?” Olivia taps her fingers on the counter, strumming her stubby fingers against the countertop.

“Wait, go where?” Shanice’s eyebrows knit together. She tries to recall the last few moments, but her mind is still on last night. The man at the door, and the panic she feels even as her face remains even. Coffee is a bad idea, but she’s now on her second cup.

“Can we go to the big park today. Please?”

“Funny,” Shanice says sarcastically. “I told you we could go this weekend, Mushroom, and it’s still–” Shanice makes a show of looking at her smart watch before her eyes land back on Olivia. “–yep, just what I thought. It’s still Thursday morning.”

Olivia clasps her hands together and squints her eyes as she squeaks out, “Pleeeeease-”

“Hey, hey, hey…ma’am.” Shanice isn’t very loud, but her words cut through just sharp enough to make a point. Olivia knows Shanice doesn’t tolerate whining and begging, so the little girl does the next best thing. Her shoulders slumped exaggeratedly, and like a sucker, Shanice falls for it as she quietly sighs. “If I get a good report from Ms. Wendy today, we can go to the playground at your school.”

“Kay!” Olivia’s eyes widen excitedly. “Can you tell mommy to come too?”

She can’t say that she’s been trying to call Mel all night, but the phone rings until the automated voicemail picks up. She wants her to pick up and ask how Johnny has her home address. It was better that the phone did go to voicemail because the conversation probably wouldn’t have been pleasant.

“I’m sure she’s gonna try her best to make it,” Shanice tells her just as her own waffles finish in the toaster. As she sips her coffee, she watches in slight disgust as Olivia smashes her bananas into each crevice of her waffles. “What’re you doing?”

“Makin’a waffles smooth.” Olivia fills some of the squares with the mashed bananas and takes a bite. “Want some?”

“Noooo thank you,” Shanice says, fervently shaking her head with a laugh. “I like my waffles with all the holes.”

After dropping Olivia off at preschool, Shanice makes her way to Damon Pope High School where she spends the first two periods with 9-12 graders, teaching them about the Harlem Renaissance before analyzing some poems by Countee Cullen and Langston Hughes. Teaching is exciting because she is always amazed at how astute these teenagers were with their analyzations. And their poetry is often some of the most beautiful she’s ever read. She’s excited to see the entries for the poetry contest this year.

At a free period, she shuts herself up in her classroom and tries Mel’s cell again. It goes straight to voicemail, and Shanice’s anger transforms into concern. She leaves another message, hoping for the best but thinking of the worst.

Shanice makes her way to Olivia’s preschool twenty minutes after the last bell rings and is there just as the first parents are leaving with their children. She’s soon inside and makes small talk with some of the parents and grandparents.

Olivia spots her and yells across the room of children and adults. “Aunty ‘Nice!” Olivia rushes over and grabs her hand before pulling her back over to the teacher, Ms. Wendy. “Tell her I was good, Ms. Wendy! Tell her!”

“Olivia…” Shanice tries to reprimand, but she finds herself biting her bottom lip to keep from smiling.

Ms. Wendy doesn’t hold in her laugh, and her wavy blonde hair dances with every shake of her shoulders. “Well, Olivia is always good, but she was extra special today.”

Olivia is beaming, but Shanice tries not to roll her eyes as she sees the little girl grinning. They say their goodbyes and walk outside to the playground where Olivia runs immediately to the slides. Shanice picks up Olivia’s backpack from the grass where it sits abandoned in the excitement and stands off to the side to make another phone call. The phone doesn’t answer but she gets a text message a few minutes later.

Hey girl. Got your messages! Been really busy lately but I’ll be over ltr tonight. Tell Liv I got her a present!! Xo

Shanice decides not to tell Olivia about the text message because she’s heard this before. She spends time with Olivia who looks up every time someone walks near the playground, hoping one of them will be Mel, but she doesn’t actually ask about her mother. There’s a destructive amount of hope in her eyes that dies with every passing moment.

There’s that hope Mel will show even at eight that night when Olivia is fast asleep. Shanice still has hope, but she knows it won’t happen.

I have something important to talk about, Mel. It’s about Olivia’s bio dad.

At ten, Shanice’s phone buzzes in the middle of grading assignments.

Sorry! Forgot 2 tell u I gave Johnny yur address! I didn’t know what to tell him. figured you would know what 2 do??

Is Liv upset I didn’t show?? Tell her I’ll be there in a couple days xo

Shanice is so angry that she only replies with

She’s fine.

before tossing her phone on the other side of the couch.

It’s more than sending a complete stranger to her home. It’s more than ignored calls.

Figured you would know what to do.

But Shanice doesn’t know what to do. She really wants to keep Mel included in their life. Keep her included in the decisions she has to make for Olivia, but Shanice is slowly accepting that she’s alone in this now. She can’t keep playing the role of a glorified babysitter.

The piece of paper is still on the night table when she goes back to retrieve it. Her emotions are driving her as she paces back to the couch to retrieve her discarded phone, so she doesn’t realize how late it is until she hears the groggy voice pick up.

“Yeah, hello?” he answers.

“I-I’m sorry,” Shanice says now caught off guard. It’s nearly midnight. “Is this Johnny?”

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“It’s Shanice,” she tells him. “Can we meet?”

Shanice pulls her car into the Tres Reyes lot during her a free period the next morning. It’s a quaint white building with a terracotta roof that looks almost like someone’s home, if not for the large sign on the face of the building in bold letters.

Once inside the diner, she can feel the warmth from the kitchen blanket every bit of her skin, but it isn’t as oppressive as the heat from the California desert. The white from the outside also paints the wall inside, but there are bright Spanish tiles on the floor which makes Shanice feel like she’s stepping on artwork. She also now feels wildly overdressed in her pencil skirt, blouse and heels.

A few older Latino people are scattered throughout the diner while some college kids occupy most of the other tables.

“Cuántos personas?” a teenage girl asks, coming from behind a desk near the door. Shanice fights the teacher in her that wants to ask, Shouldn’t you be in class?

“Uh, dos personas, por favor,” Shanice replies, quickly recalling something from her Freshman year at college.

The girl asks in Spanish, gauging whether or not she speaks the same language and by her accent, the girl nods. With a quick, disapproving twitch of her eyebrows that only a teenager can manage, she says, “Right this way.”

“Are you waiting for Coco?” the girl asks, nonchalantly placing two menus on the table.

“I…I mean, I’m waiting for Johnny?”

She nods again then turns slightly in the direction of the service window that separates the kitchen from the dining. “Coco!”

A few of the guests jump at the girl’s voice. Johnny walks from the kitchen, chastising her with his eyes. She shrugs back with an impressive lack of enthusiasm. “My bad, alright?” she apologizes, returning to her hostess spot behind the counter.

It makes sense now why Johnny wants to meet here. Shanice had assumed he’d be a guest, not an employee. He sits at the table across from her with a shy smile. He’s wearing a short-sleeved white t-shirt, so she can clearly see that his tattoos wrap the full lengths of his arms.

Unsure of how else to begin, Shanice opens with, “They call you Coco?”

“Only people that really call me Johnny is my mom when I piss her off,” he says, smiling slightly. “Thanks for meeting me, I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Shanice mutters.

“You want something to eat?”

“Thanks, but I have to get back to work in a little bit.” She sighs then decides to do away with pointless small talk. “She’s four years old now. Where’ve you been?”

Straight to the point. The question visibly unsettles him, but she’s past caring.

Johnny–or Coco sits up a little straighter in the seat. “I’m gonna keep it real with you. I been in and outta prison most of my life–nothing violent, but I got locked up a couple months before she was born and was in for the first two years of her life.”

Shanice suspects as much, so she isn’t shocked when he admits this. She’s more concerned with what lands him there. “Define…‘nothing violent?’”

He clears nothing from his throat, “Possession.” The words roll out of his mouth like a secret, but it falls between them like an anchor at the bottom of a chasm.

She nods once. Coco’s anxious, almost like the kids she has to chastise for not doing their homework. The fact that he’s been to prison doesn’t exactly make her flinch. She has a few relatives that had been incarcerated at one point in time and others that are still in jail. Had it not been for pure luck, she could have ended up the same way at a young age. Especially during her college days with Mel.

Shanice can’t help but be hard. It must feel like an interrogation the way she fires questions and sits emotionless on the other side of the table. “That’s still two years unaccounted for.”

“Honestly,” he said with a wince, “I thought she’d be better off without me there. Being a good father isn’t something I know how to be.”

“What makes you so sure you can be a good father now?”

“Nothing,” he says plainly. “But I remember how I felt growing up without my dad. I didn’t feel wanted. I don’t want her to feel something like that. Especially not ‘cause of me.”

“There’s an audience,” she notes with her gaze set upon the service window.

He turns to the men. One is older with white hair and shadows of old acne scars on his somber face. One of the younger men sports an undercut while the other has his hair shortly cropped. By the downturned eyes the three share, it’s obvious that the three are father and sons.

The older man adjusts his glasses and disappears into the kitchen when he realizes he’s been caught leering. The other two put their heads down and start scrubbing away at the tiles in the window with small towels.

Shanice focuses again at her table mate and stares at him for just a moment much too long for it to be deemed comfortable. She notices his fingers are tapping against the table, and she suddenly recalls a moment from that morning when Olivia does the same.

It’s a different beat, but it has the same heart.

“Okay,” she tells him, looking up, and she watches Coco break out into a boyish smile. “Let me get something straight, though. There’s no ‘try’ in this. She’s had people in her life disappoint her, and at her age, she hasn’t really learned to stop being hopeful.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, revealing a familiar dimple.

“We’re going to the park downtown this Sunday. You can meet us there if you don’t have to work.”

“Yeah,” he said, still smiling. “Of course, I’ll be there.”

Shanice is driving back to school a few minutes later, chewing on the realization that it will most likely be another sleepless night.

_______

Next Chapter: Three

[fizzyxcustard]

The Right Thing

Masterlist of all fanfics/headcanons/prompts here

Fandom: seaQuest 2032

Pairings: Lucas Wolenczak x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, insecurity, age difference (but legal), language (mild)

Word count: 6505 (a longer one)

Summary: You are a Lieutenant aboard the seaQuest DSV vessel, under Captain Oliver Hudson. You have been aboard for two years and in that time have grown very close to Lucas Wolenczak. But not only are you of higher rank, you are ten years his senior (he’s 20). As your feelings deepen and Lucas opens up to you about how he feels, your anxiety rises. Will everyone be judgemental of you for loving a younger man? Others aboard the boat, and shore leave, help you to see how right you and Lucas are for each other.

Comments: If you have any questions regarding this fic and the fandom, by all means message me. I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback. I will probably try and make graphics for my fics in future if people are interested in reading more of this as I have a full length fic in the works and a prequel one-shot as well. If you would like to be added to my tag list for anything seaQuest related, please leave me a message or comment. The above image shows Captain Oliver Hudson (left) and Ensign Lucas Wolenczak (right) from the show. 

Never before had you felt this awkward, torn and utterly disgusted with yourself. Whenever you sat beside Lucas on the bridge, you could feel his stare now and again as he turned his mesmerising blue eyes from the helm monitor. True, you had always had a very deep friendship with Lucas, who was now an Ensign and seemed to be on duty with you more than any other officer, but the tension was becoming too much. He was two months past twenty and you were the wrong side of thirty. However, most people assumed you to be younger than Lonnie, at twenty-one, but no, the years were against you. In fact, you were the same age as Tim O’Neill.

That day was rather uneventful. Your shift passed by without incident. You laughed with Lucas, Jim Brody and Lonnie in the mess hall. But again, you could sense Lucas’ eyes on you.

Captain Hudson was at a UEO summit meeting, leaving Commander Ford in charge. It was always more laid back and chilled when Jonathan Ford took the helm. No complaints, no shouting, no frustration. Ford had been on seaQuest now since her first tour, along with Lucas and Tim. The rest of the crew, including you, came later. All of you missed Captain Bridger, who had been more than just a Captain, but a friend and a fatherly figure.

“Have you got any plans for shore leave?” Lucas asked you suddenly.

You swallowed hard and turned to face him, pulling your headset from off your head. “Not at the moment, no,” you replied. “You?”

This was all your conversations had become now. Idle chit chat. Whereas when Captain Bridger was still your skipper, you and Lucas would spend time together, laughing at stupid movies, listening to music, taunting Tony Piccolo and simply basking in the things of youth.

Lucas knew there was something very wrong between you both; he could sense it. He didn’t have to be like Wendy Smith, psychic; he could see the cold shoulder that you gave him often. He watched you concentrate on your monitor, staring through the glasses that you always wore when on any computer or when writing. The atmosphere had changed aboard the boat when Captain Bridger left, but surely that wasn’t enough to make you grow cold.

When it was time for shift change, you walked off the bridge with Lucas. Both of you strolled slowly, side by side. “Hey, ummm,” Lucas began, stopping in the corridor. “Can we talk?”

“What about?” you asked.

Lucas sighed at the cold, abrupt edge to your tone. “Us….”

“What do you mean us?”

“No…no. It sounded weird, I know. I’m sorry,” Lucas said, silently grilling himself for sounding stupid. “Things just seem weird. We don’t spend time together like we used to, and I guess I…”

“We’ll talk later. In private,” you told him. Officers were speeding past you, starting and ending the shift rotation. It was too open for such a chat. There was a lot that needed to be said. “I’ll come to your quarters about seven. How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Lucas replied with a smile.

As you parted ways, you felt breath catch in your throat. Your hands shook and tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. You felt something for Lucas and you despised yourself, at just over ten years his senior. You were ashamed of it.

It wasn’t until you ventured from your quarters and down the corridors to Lucas’ shared quarters that you realised just how deep his feelings for you ran. You could distinctly hear his voice as you stopped outside the door, which was slightly ajar. The other person, you assumed, was Tony Piccolo.

“You need to tell her, Lucas,” the second voice came. Sure enough, it was Tony.

You waited outside the door, listening.

“I can’t stop thinking about her, Tony.”

“You’ve said that before with girls.”

“This is different. I barely knew Juliana and Sandra. I’ve spent months with her, and when I am with her, it’s like she’s my age. And she cares. I mean truly cares. Probably because she’s just as alone as I am. But lately she’s grown cold towards me. She won’t speak to me sometimes for almost an entire day. There’s no laughing anymore.”

“It’s pretty hard to laugh around here with Hudson in charge,” Tony replied.

You straightened your back and swallowed hard, bracing yourself and tapped on the door.

A few seconds later and Tony appeared. “I’ll leave you two to it. Don’t mind me,” he said, grinning at you. “Go easy on him.” Tony winked at you. All you could do was grimace and then descend the steps down into the main sleeping area which Lucas and Tony shared.

Lucas looked at you, dressed in jeans, Converse and blouse. How could you be the age you were? You looked twenty-two at most. Everything about you enthralled him; your small and discreet tattoos scattered about your body, your quirky sense of humour, the way you cared for everyone and put them before yourself, the odd looking ornaments you kept on your desk and your taste in rock music. Jim Brody had teased many times how your attitude would be suited with Tony Piccolo. But you needed people who were steady and mature.

Things were silent for a short while as you both stood a couple of feet apart, your hands shoved in pockets. Then you broke the silence and looked at Lucas. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you. It’s just…Maybe I’m being arrogant, I don’t know. But I sense that you like me…”

“And does that bother you?” Lucas asked, his hands growing more and more sweaty.

“I’m a lot older than you, Lucas,” you reminded him. “You’ve only just become an adult, and I know you forget my age when we spend time together. I’m still young in my appearance and ways. Maybe I haven’t grown up myself yet.”

“I think you’re amazing,” Lucas said softly. “Why does age have to be an issue? We’re good together; I know that you know that.”

His words made something pour in your stomach and you closed your eyes, trying to shake the feelings away. “Lucas, no. Stop it, please,” you whispered.

“You have feelings for me, too. I know you do. I can see it,” he said, approaching you.

You felt his arm wind around your waist, edging you closer towards him.

“Stop it!” you cried out, pushing him away. “No means no!”

You left his quarters only moments later, leaving Lucas behind to slam his hands down onto his desk. Leaving seaQuest was the only way this would end. Lucas would move on and meet a girl his own age. And you would transfer to another boat, hopefully to ace your officer exams and get promoted to Lieutenant Commander.

That evening was long as you drowned in your own thoughts. How could Lucas be what you needed? Would he be prepared to look towards marriage and children within the next two to five years? You would be rushing him, forcing him to put aside all the years of adventure and experience to build a family. Because that was what you wanted. If you met the right man, then you would gladly take time away from your career. And Lucas seemed to think that man was him.

Around nine, a knock came to your door. Your heart leapt and you gasped, expecting it to be Lucas. But it was Tony. You knew why he was here; it didn’t take a lot for anyone to put two and two together to see the reason for his visit.

You let Tony in and sat back down in your seat. “I know why you’ve come to see me, Tony. Lucas doesn’t see the shame I feel every time I look at him.”

“I wanted to see how you’re doing, too. I know Lucas isn’t always the easiest person to say no to. In that way, he’s still a kid.”

You sighed. “We’re both still kids in a lot of ways. I’m going to put in a request for transfer. It’s the only way to solve this.”

“But you can’t,” Tony exclaimed. “Everyone loves you, you know that. It wouldn’t be the same without you. You bring a bit of life to this place.”

Tony’s words brought a smile to your face. “Thanks. This place feels more like a family than I’ve ever had anywhere else outside of my actual family.”

“Look, if you two really do like each other then nothing should stop you. Some people might think the age gap is weird, but who cares? You’re both single adults.”

You sighed again and reached for your mug of coffee which had started growing cold. “I want to think about marriage and settling down. Does Lucas want that? It’s something that needs to be thought about. I can’t be responsible for slowing him down. He’s still young.”

“And so are you. Man, you’re talkin’ as though you’re fifty. Come on!” Tony said.

You barely slept that night, constantly tossing and turning, thinking of Lucas, whom you doubted was asleep either. The air was warm and stale, and your heart raced, reminding you of the anxiety which you kept hidden. Being a Lieutenant in the Navy meant that you had been aboard vessels under attack, had nearly drowned and been shot in the leg. But it was your indecision and shame that caused you to panic uncontrollably.

Tears poured down your cheeks as you flung your legs out from the covers. You flicked on the table lamp and staggered sleepily to your chair. Writing always calmed you. In a world of discipline, uncertainty and instability, you felt so alone. Friendships were strong between you and the main crew, but you had become the glue holding them together. You listened often to Lonnie deny her budding feelings for Jonathan Ford; Tony Piccolo opened his heart to you about his unconventional family; Lucas relied on you for stability and companionship. Now was the time that you needed someone.

After finishing your journal entry, you ventured out into the corridors, finding the gentle hum of seaQuest to be soothing. In the mess hall, you poured yourself a mug of coffee from the vending machine and took a seat in the back corner of the room.

“I thought I was the only one who had insomnia,” a voice came.

“What? Oh, sorry,” you apologised, raising your head out of your hands to see Jim Brody.

“You okay?” Brody asked, approaching you. He was dressed in his uniform, obviously in the middle of night shift.

“I’ll survive,” you chuckled wryly.

“You don’t sound very convincing, you know?”

There was a sincerity in Brody’s eyes that you had always been drawn to. He never minced his words or failed in keeping his promises.

You sighed deeply and looked at your untouched coffee. “How do you handle it when you like someone but have your reservations?”

“What kind of reservations?”

“If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell another soul? I’m so ashamed.”

Brody began to look puzzled and slightly nervous. “Umm, okay.”

“Lucas admitted that he has feelings for me, and I know I feel something for him. But the age gap terrifies me, Jim. And you know how sulky he can be when you say no to him.”

Brody smiled and then sighed. “I know you two have always been close, but maybe if you’re feeling uncomfortable, it’s something you need to deal with yourself. You’re both adults and it’s down to you both. Don’t try and seek everyone else’s approval.”

“That’s what makes me ashamed: everyone else’s judgement.”

The shame and embarrassment of your admission made you look away and run your shaking hands through your short hair. It made you think back to the day you had your long locks cut off, which was the day before your first tour on seaQuest. It was an almost boyish cut, but there was no mistaking your femininity.”

“It’ll work out, I’m sure. Thanks for listening, Jim,” you said, forcing a smile.

You remained in the mess hall for a short while longer, sipping your coffee. The tall, broad figure of Dagwood drifted past the door as he cleaned. He never noticed you, but you watched him for a couple of seconds; his attention to his duty was unbroken and unwavering.

Sleep finally took you away a couple of hours later. In the dark of your quarters, you began counting. Gradually your heart rate slowed.

Suddenly your alarm was blaring! Pain rested behind your eyes and in your temples. No doubt it would remain with you for the rest of the day.

After a shower, you got dressed into your uniform and headed for the mess hall for breakfast. The bright overhead lights assaulted your eyes, making you wince.

Lucas, Tony and Lonnie were all sat together to the left hand side of the room. You suddenly felt sick, insanely sick. Tony looked at you, his eyes widening. Thankfully Lucas had his back to you. It was impossible for you to avoid him now; once you were up for duty, you couldn’t go back to quarters until the next shift rotation. On an almost mile-long submarine, and you couldn’t hide.

You grabbed fruit and a mug of herbal tea. With a huge sigh, you approached the table where your friends were, a spare seat having been left between Tony and Lucas.

Lucas swallowed hard and shifted in his seat as your perfume wafted up his nose, mixed with the smell of your sweet-scented hand cream.  

“Morning,” you said softly. Your eyes met Lucas’ and you could see the sadness swimming in them.

“You look awful,” Lonnie said. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t sleep much last night,” you said, forcing another smile. “And it’s caught up with me this morning.”

By now and you could feel your pulse racing, thumping in your head and chest. Your hands were shaking, and you knew the day wouldn’t get any easier. Tony kept watching you as the atmosphere remained tense. Lonnie left a few minutes later, uncomfortable by the silence.

Lucas was looking down most of the time and once Tony had also left, he spoke, but didn’t look at you. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” you admitted, swallowing hard.

Lucas heard the quiver in your voice and finally looked at you. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Almost on instinct, you placed your hand on his. “We’ll be okay. Whatever happens, we’ll be okay. Shore leave in two days. We can talk more then.”

That morning seemed to ease some of the tension between Lucas and you. On the bridge, you began to ease back into your laughter. You temporarily forgot your fatigue and the events of the evening previous. Until Lucas held your gaze for a few seconds longer than usual. Normally you looked away, trying to avert his attention elsewhere, but this time you maintained eye contact and smiled.

Tony smirked to himself, recognising that look anywhere.

**

The next two days passed without incident. You felt more at ease now and found yourself making jokes out of mundane things. As it always had, it entertained Tony greatly. The two of you played off each other in the mess hall. A lot of your jokes were at Captain Hudson’s expense. To most people, you outwardly seemed more suited to Tony Piccolo, but those closest to you knew better. The bond you shared with Lucas was unlike any other relationship on the boat. Even though you paled into insignificance when it came to Lucas’ IQ, you could both normally tell what the other was thinking with just one smile.

On the evening before shore leave officially started, Lucas remained in his quarters after shift rotation. There was still a deep pain when he saw you. When you turned your head and smiled, your eyes shining bright, he knew that he would love no other smile. Your attention to detail was unparalleled; that was obvious from the drawings of yours which littered your bedside wall. Your mind didn’t store facts, theories and calculations like Lucas’; it was curious, deep, questioning. You observed deeply. Your genius was in colours, shape, emotion, behaviour. Not cold fact like Lucas.

The Navy had taught you to be disciplined, orderly. No more piles of clothes left at the end of your bed or un-pressed clothing that hoped no one would notice. Why had you even enlisted? Was it your wanderlust? Perhaps. Or maybe it was a way to get away from the ordinary world and embrace your difference.

A sudden knock came to your door, a metallic tap.

“Come in,” you called, placing your copy of The Lord of the Ringsback on your shelf.

Lucas entered, not quite sure why he was even visiting.

“Sorry. I was tidying. You okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied.

“You think so?”

Lucas sat down on the edge of your bed and looked up at you as you placed your hands on your hips.

“Please don’t do that. You remind me of my mom,” he chuckled.

Somehow, that comment didn’t amuse you quite as much as it did Lucas. It hit a rather raw nerve that you had hoped you had figured out how to manage.

Lucas got up from his spot and stood before you, being slightly taller. “What?” he asked. You turned your head, shame surging through you again. But just then, the gentlest touch came to your cheek. Lucas’ large blue eyes were full of concern and adoration for you. His hand cupped your face and seconds later, you felt his lips against yours. Soft, unsure, but above all, kind. The kiss of a young man, some ten years your junior, was enough to remind you that there was still kindness in the world, especially amongst the male of the species.

Realisation hit you hard in the stomach and you turned from the kiss. You heard Lucas sigh and stepped back. “Have you thought about this properly? We’re at different stages in our lives. You’re just starting out in your adult years to find out what you’d like…”

Lucas cut you off. “You talk as though I have no idea what I want.”

You looked at him sadly, seeing the frustration in his face. “What experience have you had? Do you know if you want to get married? Have children? These are probably things you haven’t even considered yet. I’ve been forced to push it aside because I’m too different.”

Lucas remained quiet, not quite sure what to say.

“Please think on this more,” you said.

“I have,” he said in desperation, his hands cupping your face again. “I want to be with you, and whatever you want, you can have it.” His voice became a whisper and you kissed again.

You woke a few hours later at just after one in the morning. There was a solid warmth against your back and an arm draped over you. The two of you had fallen asleep after an evening of chatter and cuddles under the blanket.

In all the time that you had known Lucas, which was two years, you had never seen him smile so much as he had done that evening. True, since enlisting in the Navy, Lucas had had to grow up somewhat and that change in him had been amazing, going from a boy to a man. A seriousness had settled in him, overriding the boyishness.

You slid out of bed and positioned the blanket back over Lucas. He rolled over and mumbled in his sleep. Something about this still felt wrong. It made you concerned that everyone would see it as predatory. Everything that felt wrong was pushing you to begin writing up that transfer request. Crew from the infamous seaQuest were always welcomed aboard other UEO vessels. The sub still remained the pinnacle of the fleet, highly sought after by new officers for their first tour. A reserve list with thousands of names on had been written up, and if you left, then you’d open a door to someone more deserving of their placement. Allowing Lucas to get close to you had been an abuse of your authority.

“You’re making a habit of this, ain’t you?” Brody laughed, finding you in the mess hall again at an ungodly hour for the second time that week.

“Maybe I am,” you chuckled. “My sleep routine is shot to shit.”

“Did you get things sorted with Lucas?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned. “It still feels wrong. I’m seriously considering putting in a transfer. But I know that Hudson will only take a valid reason before signing off my request.”

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Brody leaned closer to you across the table.

“I can’t stay, Jim. Things are getting too deep between me and Lucas, and I know that he’s always going to expect something that I can’t give him.”

“I can’t force you to go against what you think is right, but you know we’d all miss you. None of us would want to see you go.”

“I know that, and I thank you so much. You’ve all supported me and I absolutely love working on this boat.”

“Yeah, it is a great place.”

Suddenly, you stopped rigid, eyes wide as Lucas wondered into the room. Brody turned after seeing your expression, and then wished you both a goodnight.

“You okay?” Lucas asked, replacing Brody in the seat opposite you.

“Got a lot on my mind,” you told him.

Lucas reached out and curled his hand around yours. “What’s up? Talk to me.”

Tears filled your eyes and fell down your cheeks. “I can’t do this…I’m sorry…”

“What have I done?” he whispered.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” you sobbed. Your gripped his hand tighter until he came and sat at your side. “You need someone your own age. I’m taking advantage of you with my authority and rank.”

“How are you taking advantage of me?”

“I’m ten years older than you and I’m a Lieutenant.”

“And why should that matter?”

“I…” words were lost.

“We’re both legal age and consenting adults. So does it really matter?” You remained quiet. Then you heard the gentle whisper of your name. “Does it really matter?” he asked again.

“I was considering putting in a transfer,” you said, the words tumbling from your mouth like an avalanche.

“No….no,” Lucas begged, drawing his hand up your face. “Don’t leave me.”

You couldn’t help but kiss his hand and lean into his touch.

“Captain Bridger left. I don’t know if I could handle you leaving, too.” Lucas’ eyes were wide and full to the brim of tears. Everyone in Lucas’ life had left him or cared little, never putting him as their priority.

And you knew then that no matter the outcome of your relationship status, you couldn’t leave. Lucas needed an open ear, heart and mind to express himself to. He’d found that in you.

As everyone prepared their belongings in order to enjoy three days of shore leave, you sat in your quarters with music playing away on your com-link. There was a positive buzz outside your door and foot traffic was loud. It was always the same whenever shore leave was approaching.

A knock came to your door.

Tony appeared. “Mornin’!” he chirped happily. “All ready to go?”

“Yes, I think so,” you replied.

“Lucas told me about your conversation over the transfer. I’m glad you told him you’d thought about it. Are you still considering it?”

You sighed and looked towards Tony. “No, I’ve decided not to leave. Whatever happens, I know my place is here. Lucas has had enough people walk out on him. He needs at least one person to stay.”

“Make sure you’re stayin’ for the right reasons.”

“I thought you wanted me to stay,” you replied with a smile.

“I do. We all do. But you’ve got to want to stay for yourself.”

“Everyone here feels like the friends I never had and the family I lost touch with. Of course I don’t want to leave.”

As everyone began gathering in the corridors to head to the docking bays, you stood between Lucas and Brody, dressed in your shore uniform. As usual, Tony was telling jokes to keep everyone amused.

“Do you ever pause for breath?” you asked, laughing.

“Only when I’m sleepin’, and even then I still talk,” Tony countered.

“He’s right there,” Lucas mumbled.

Shore leave began with all of you checking into a local hotel in downtown just from the seaQuest berth. As usual, the UEO paid for all expenses incurred on shore leave.

Lucas looked on a little suspiciously when you announced that you were next door to Brody and Lonnie, but he was on the floor below. He merely smiled at you, swept a glance to Brody and Lonnie, then disappeared to his own room.

In your room, you placed your bag down on the bed and began inspecting the cleanliness of the place.

You made sure you had a bath before doing anything else. The heat relaxed you and the sweet scent of lavender and jasmine wrapped around you. For a short while and you forgot all the trials in life, all the things that kept you up at night and made you over think. Suddenly, your phone began to chime. With a groan of irritation, you lifted yourself out of the tub, wound a thick towel around yourself and picked up the ringing nuisance from your bed.

“Are you alright? You took a while to answer,” Lucas’ questioning voice came.

“I’m fine. I was taking a bath.”

“Oh, okay. Do you mind if I come and see you?”

“Give me ten minutes to get dressed. I’m in room 712.”

“Okay. Bye.”

He seemed put out somehow. You sensed disappointment in his voice. Did he think you were avoiding him purely because you took time to answer his call? There was definitely a lot that needed to be ironed out between you both.

Lucas came to your room shortly afterwards, holding two paper cups of coffee, probably from the vending machine on his floor.

You thanked him for the coffee and then sat opposite him on your bed. You pulled your leg under yourself and watched him lower his head in that way he always did when he was unsure. “If this is how things are going to be between us now, then I wish they would just go back to how they were,” he said. His voice as pained by the realisation of all the tension he’d placed on your once deep friendship. For a young man who was so intelligent, far beyond that of most people, he held a lot of insecurity and uncertainty. He wore his heart on his sleeve and had never been able to hide his true emotions. There was an honesty and innocence that drew you in. A purity of heart. But also a sadness. If everyone else had abandoned him, how could you be so selfish and do the same thing?

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

Lucas was staring blankly into his coffee. “This. All of it.” He then looked up at you. “The last few days have been hell. I haven’t known what to say or do. And even if you don’t feel anything for me, can we just go back to the way things were?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’ve driven a gap between us out of my own fear. Maybe I felt that backing away would help. Being around each other constantly only makes the feelings deepen. I’ve missed you and I do have feelings for you. A lot of them. I was scared of everyone judging me because I’m older and abusing my authority. I have to be careful, Lucas. Especially now that Captain Bridger is gone. He didn’t push Naval code like Hudson does.”

“I know that,” Lucas said, edging in a little closer towards you. That beautiful scent. It made his deeper instinct ride; butterflies were flapping with ferocity in his gut. “You worry too much about what other people think of you.”

“We’re not civilians, Lucas,” you reminded him.

“What would you have done with your life if you never enlisted?”

You took a sip of your coffee and smiled. “As a kid, I always wanted to be a vet, so I’d have worked with animals more than likely.”

“What made you enlist? You’ve never had that typical Navy way about you.”

“I finished university with a useless degree in English and I saw advertisements at a job fayre. I wanted something new and interesting. I almost failed my initial medical though.”

“Why?”

“I was taking medication for panic attacks. I stopped taking it a week before my examination and never declared it. Who wants a Naval officer who’s always anxious?”

“I don’t believe that at all. You’re probably the most chilled of anyone when we have an emergency.”

You chuckled. “I’ve learned to control it. And I find when I’m leading others, I’m more at ease. I can be calm for other people but not myself.”

That evening, a large group of you decided to head for a sit down meal at a local restaurant. Piano music was playing overhead and the lighting was dimmed, adding to a relaxing atmosphere. The waiter, a hook-nosed Italian man in overly tightly trousers, guided you over to a large, round table in the back corner.

You nudged Brody and pointed to the waiter. “It’s a wonder he doesn’t pop a nut.”

Lonnie and Tony immediately smiled, enjoying the fact that your usual self was coming back to the surface.

The whole meal was laid back, fun and light-hearted. You couldn’t help but notice the subtle glances that were exchanged between Lonnie and Jonathan Ford. Tim O’Neill seemed a little irritated by it, rolling his eyes a couple of times. When you saw Tim be so quiet, it reminded you of Miguel Ortiz, whom you had had a slight crush on when you first came aboard seaQuest. He and Tim had been good friends, and since Miguel’s passing in combat, Tim seemed a little lost at times.

By the time that the meal was over, most of the group had disappeared into the bar. There was only you, Lonnie and Jonathan Ford left at the table, which made you feel like a spare part. You excused yourself and walked out the front door of the restaurant. Chatter and laughter filled the air outside on the veranda. Dozens of people were drinking, eating and enjoying the night time air.

You began to walk, crossing the street and heading onto the empty beach. The chill in the air, the bright, full moon and the sound of crashing waves soothed you. In a hectic world where you were constantly fighting for control, you were now centred. Everything was simple. No worry. No orders. Just the stars, sand and sea.

Lucas looked for you, only to spot you standing on the beach. He could tell you from across the street. Proud shoulders, hands in pockets, bright coloured blouse, bandana in hair. That could only be you.

“You okay?” he asked.

You turned and smiled, then stepped back towards him. You curled your arm through his and put your head on his shoulder. The two of you remained quiet for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company. To Lucas’ surprise, you took his hand and held it tight.

Tony and Brody looked on from the front of the restaurant.

“If the age gap is their only concern then they’ve got more going for them than most couples,” Brody said.

“He’s definitely lucky to have her.”

By the time you made it back to the bar in the restaurant, you and Lucas were hand in hand. Tony grinned at you both and then cheered, drawing attention from the rest of the crew who were all sat in a booth together.

Laughter ensued almost immediately as all the men, apart from Lucas, began competing in a drinking game.

“One, two, three,” Tony counted, banging his free hand on the table top. All of the participants of the game tossed shots down their throats, then proceeded to continue on with a further two, downing them as quickly as possibly without vomiting. Tim O’Neill gagged, almost propelling his meal from his gut. Jim Brody fell into a coughing fit. Jonathan Ford blinked hard, pushing vodka-induced tears away. Tony merely laughed, playing a drum beat on the table.

You could sense Lucas’ eyes on you as you sat beside each other. His arm was stretched across the back of the seat behind you. His nerves were finally beginning to settle a little, reminding himself again and again that it was still you. You were the same person he had known now for almost two years and had had a bad crush on the whole time. There were so many times that he had imagined how you would feel under his fingertips, the way your lips would taste against his, the sound of your hitched breath as you kissed with passion. And you did not disappoint. All of his fantasies had fallen short of the beauty of reality.

Around midnight and the men of the group were considerably less sober than when they’d arrived for dinner just over four hours earlier. Tony was now daring Brody to go swimming in the sea naked, which the Lieutenant was actually considering to do. Ford and O’Neill were arm wrestling, leaving you to chat with Lucas and Lonnie. A bottle of expensive red wine was on the table. Lonnie sipped from her glass now and again, encouraging you to have a drink, but you never drank alcohol as it only made your anxiety worse.

“I’m going to retire to bed, I think,” you announced.

“I’ll walk you back,” Lucas proposed.

Together, you and Lucas began your short walk back to the hotel. You strolled along comfortably hand in hand. People walked past you, glancing at you for only a brief second before continuing on. No one stared like you thought they would. They were all unawares of the age gap between you both that you always thought was noticeable.

**

You woke the next morning to bright sunlight shining through the open curtains. Lucas was lying with his back to you. You slipped out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

Lucas heard the toilet flush and looked up at the ceiling, smiling. Would you regret the night previously? He hoped so much that you wouldn’t.

“Good morning,” you said with a smile, exiting the bathroom in your pyjamas.

“Morning,” Lucas replied, groggy with sleep and happiness.

You slipped back into bed and rolled over to him, kissing his lips. He seemed to gain more confidence the more that you kissed. The tension was seeping out of your actions the more that you acted on your feelings. Fear was losing its grip on you.

Both of you remained in bed for a short while, until you announced that you were getting dressed to head downstairs for breakfast.

“I’m tired,” Lucas groaned.

“Get up, Ensign. That’s an order,” you chuckled.

“Now who’s abusing their authority, Lieutenant?”

“Well if you’re expecting any kind of repeat of last night then you’re going to have to be well-behaved now, aren’t you?”

“You never seemed the type to subject me to blackmail.”

“I’m going to head down,” you said, putting the conversation back on a serious note. “Do you want me to bring you anything back up?”

Lucas just smiled. “I’ll come down with you.”

When you got downstairs, Lonnie and Commander Ford were already sat at a table for two. You and Lucas made yourself comfortable just across from them.

“How’s the head, Commander?” you chuckled.

“Strangely it’s okay. For now. No quick and sudden movements and I should be fine,” he replied with a smile.

You poured yourself a mug of English tea and began to eat your breakfast which had been served.

Tim O’Neill came half staggering into the large dining area and plopped down on a seat next to Lucas. “Remind me to never drink again,” he groaned.

Lucas looked up at you ever now and again, his blue eyes twinkling with something you hadn’t seen before. Contentment maybe? Or perhaps happiness? Whatever it was, you knew he needed both, and you hoped that you had given that to him.

The rest of that day was fairly eventful, with a visit to the local art museum with Lucas, Lonnie and Commander Ford.

Jonathan Ford couldn’t deny that he was shocked by the sudden and dramatic change in yours and Lucas’ relationship dynamic. His Navy instinct told him that something needed to be said, a warning to you both of potential consequences. But the kind side of him won out. Why try and damage that haze of happiness that was suspended around you both? Once Captain Hudson returned to the seaQuest, a relationship was something that you and Lucas would have to either end or keep secret. No way would Hudson advocate romance on his boat.

At the beach during the afternoon, Tony sat beside Lucas whilst you remained with Lonnie, enjoying an ice cream cone.

“So? What happened last night? Brody told me that you stayed in her room,” Tony enquired.

“Yeah, I stayed with her. What happened is none of your business,” Lucas replied.

“Lucas, come on! You gotta tell me. I didn’t arm you with rubber for nothin’!”

Lucas merely smirked. “Lets just say that it was put to good use.”

“Way to go, my boy!” Tony exclaimed.

“Tony, shut up. She’s only over there,” Lucas growled.

“So, I need details. How was it? Was she good?”

“None of your business,” Lucas hissed and moved away. He approached you and Lonnie, and as he looked at you, he knew there was only one word that could have described the night previously: incredible. No way was he about to disrespect you and discuss your private life with others.

“Can I borrow you for a few minutes?” he asked you.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, and got up from the warm sand. “Everything okay?”

You both moved away from the rest of the group. “Yeah. I just wanted to be alone with you for a while.”

The two of you took a slow walk down to the water’s edge, the tide returning from its long descent out towards the horizon. Hand in hand, you were silent for a few minutes. The sun’s rays were warm against your back, but a gentle breeze refreshed the air, biting through the humidity. You felt that inner calm come flooding to the surface again. Lucas’ arm wound around your waist and you prayed in silence that this was the right thing for both of you.

[pikemoreno]

if you ever wanna be in love

Chapter I: Coffee Cures All Ills

a/n: Here it is folks! The first part of a Marcus fic heavily inspired by the Netflix rom-com Set It Up. 

It’s more structurally and conceptually inspired and not an exact scene-for-scene remake because a) I was interested in the idea of this not even really being an AU. This is extremely canon-compliant and you’ll see more of that as we continue on. 😏And b) because I had lots of ideas that spun off from watching Set It Up that I just liked better for the purpose of this fic. So that’s what you can expect. It’s gonna be cheesy and fun and great.

The first couple of chapters are a lot of, well, set up (which has been infuriating). But we’ll get into the meat of it soon. My outline says so.

As a side note, a lot of the gifs I’m going to be using are from the movie, but these are not my face claims for any of the characters. I’m using them simply for the ~vibe~ of the chapter. Reader is not a small white girl... Or she might be. She is you. Or whatever OC you’d like her to be. Period. 

And that’s it. Let’s go, I guess.

pairing: marcus pike x f!reader

word count: 2k (probably one of the shortest chapters we’re gonna see out of the 14-ish lolz)

warnings: none, and i don’t expect there to really be any serious ones in upcoming chapters either. this is just fun.

Marcus Pike never wanted to fall in love. 

He’d seen what it had done to him in failed relationships including everything up to a failed marriage. Some would argue that it wasn’t love then, that love doesn’t fail, so it couldn’t have been. But he disagreed. He knows it when it hits. It comes on you like lightning, bright and fast. You accept it, letting it run through your veins, and risk suffering a fatal blow to your heart. And it most definitely can fatally fail. It can cause joy and pain in equal measure. He’d already been struck so painfully once, the blow of the electricity going straight to his heart. He was beginning to hope to the high heavens that he wouldn’t be so unlucky as to be struck a second time, just in case it should reach his heart so painfully once more.

Marcus Pike never wanted to fall in love.

He felt that especially strongly as he watched Adrian go through his recent break-up. He felt for his fellow agent, he really did. Adrian was completely convinced Sam was the one, sold to the point of going ring shopping soon. But one brief mention of an engagement sent Sam running for the hills. He’d been moping around the office for a couple of weeks now and, as much as Marcus understood the pain, he was already really looking forward to Adrian’s rebound or some similar distraction. He was needing his friend’s signature fire back right about now, not to mention his focus. His work had gotten sloppy in this mourning period. He was constantly distracted. Marcus was dreading getting him on this case today, but maybe it was just the push he needed. He hoped. He stepped up to Adrian’s desk, watching the glazed over look in his eye.

“Hey, Adrian, do you mind getting a head start on this? I’d really like you to be our head man on--” he slid the file onto his desk, but was cut short by Adrian’s response. A response that had nothing to do with anything Marcus had just said.

“I’m gonna die alone,” he muttered, hands supporting his chin, elbows on his desk. Marcus let out an exasperated sigh that he didn’t seem to notice.

“You’re not gonna die alone,” he played along once again, rubbing his temple.

“Maybe I’ll go be a monk. They never have to worry about this shit.”

“An honorable profession.”

“Yeah.” Adrian blinked out of his dream-like state. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” Marcus nodded rigidly. “Sorry, Pike.” He opened the file, nodding slowly, “Yeah, I’ll get on this.”

“You look exhausted,”

“I am,” he admitted sheepishly. 

“I’m making a break room run to get coffee, you want one?”

“Please.” Marcus nodded his understanding and made his way down the hall to the break room. He doubted a case and a coffee could get his friend back on track, but he could hope, right?

***

If you had to listen through one more of Wendy’s mood swings, you might just scream. You love the girl, you really do. She’s your friend and the best boss you could’ve asked for, but Lord Almighty, had she been in rare form. Some days she was perfectly fine, strutting around like she didn’t care that her asshole boyfriend Daniel gave her an ultimatum instead of a ring on their last anniversary. Other days would see her doing a complete 180, shutting herself in her office and weeping into suspect files. Your least favorite days, though, were days where the heartbreak made her angry, where thinking about Daniel saying “It’s me or your job” made her border-line vengeful. But, unfortunately for you and the rest of the team, he wasn’t around to take the beating.

You couldn’t say you entirely understood. The short catalog of even shorter flings that you boasted brought largely apathy rather than heartbreak. You couldn’t say you’d ever been in love like Wendy had been. You’d never felt anything quite that strong-- and thank goodness for that. It wasn’t something you particularly looked forward to, at least, not the way you’d seen it lately. It was an uncontrollable force, dangerous and all-consuming. You liked control, liked being in your right mind. If love was to take up it's unfortunate residence, you could only hope it was for someone worth losing your mind over. You hadn’t seen anyone of the sort so far. 

Unfortunately, it was already too late for Wendy Harrod. The already intimidating head of the Jewelry & Gem Theft Program in Texas was in rare form. You watched as an HR intern ran from her office in near tears. Poor Randy. Her sharp “come in” in response to your knock on her door made you wince.

“Harrod, I have the results of that house search you requested if you--”

“No, no! Absolutely not, I cannot handle this right now,” she was absolutely raging, leaving you grasping at straws for a response. 

“I-- Uh-- Of course. I’ll just leave it right here whenever--” you placed it gently on the end table by the door before being interrupted again.

“Ughhhhh,” she groaned out before flopping into her desk chair, the red leather creaking as she let sit spin her around once, “I’m sorry. I’m being mean.” There was your Wendy.

“Just a little.”

“Sorry, sorry. Bring that here please.” 

“What can I do for you? As your friend, I mean. You--” you weighed your words carefully as you hand her the report, “You haven’t quite been yourself since…” you stopped that thought, “Well, lately.” She sighed, shaking her head.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I need,” she began to skim the report before looking back up with you with a tight lipped smile, “Maybe a coffee? For the more immediate problems anyway.” You laughed.

“Now that I can do. I’m headed there now. Break room coffee ok?”

“That’d be perfect.”

“The usual?”

“The usual.” She yelled after you as you walk down the hall, “You’re an angel!”

She wasn’t gonna be saying that when you came back without coffee. 

The sign on the coffee pot reading “out of coffee” was going to seriously ruin your reputation and Wendy’s sensitive mood. You ran through the options: you couldn’t leave to get her a Starbucks; there were some bottled iced coffees in the fridge, but Wendy hated them; you could wait for someone to make a run at lunch and pass on the order, but this was too urgent. Then it hit you. Everyone knew the sixth floor had the better coffee stock anyway. The art freaks loved their fancy stuff. You could always just waltz down a floor and snag two cups from their stash. 5 minutes in and out. No harm done, no questions asked. 

Or so you thought. 

The sixth floor break room was already occupied when you walked in, finding another agent also brewing a morning cup in a single cup coffee maker. 

They really did have everything here: multiple pots, another much fancier looking machine that looked like it might come to life and attack at any moment, recyclable coffee cups, every type of creamer. You name it.

You’d have to sneak over here more often.

You stepped up to the larger coffee pot, rinsing out the carafe before reaching for the container of grounds. Empty. 

They had everything here. Except coffee. 

Was the whole damn building in a coffee famine? You didn’t have time to check.

“No, no, no, no,” you panicked, frantically searching the cabinet for another container. In your peripheral you could see the other agent look at you like you’d grown two heads. You couldn’t be bothered with his judgement, but you met his eyes to ask, maybe a little too frantically. 

“Is that the last of it?” you questioned, eyeing the cup he was brewing.

“Well, yeah, sorry.” It was obvious he meant it, but apologies were not what you were needing right now.

“Shit.” 

“Withdrawals?” he laughed a little at your panicked state, but it wasn’t demeaning. He was genuinely amused, and maybe a little concerned, but it made you narrow your eyes at him all the same. You were not in the mood for the mocking, no matter how light-hearted it may be. No matter how much it was softened by the bright smile next to you.

“It’s not for me. It’s for my boss. My very upset boss who needs just one small ounce of joy in her life right now. The kind of joy that can only come from the fueling of her caffeine addiction, so if I could please just have that cup?” You blinked at him innocently, but his dark brown eyes widened as he shook his head

“What? No. I have a friend who needs this. If I don’t bring him this, he won’t be working for the rest of the day.”

“If I don’t bring my boss a cup of coffee in the next two minutes, I will probably not be working again. Ever. I will be dead. Do you want to be complicit in a murder, Agent--” you glanced at his badge, “Pike? Can you really live with that?”

“You’re awfully dramatic aren’t you?”

“I wish it was an exaggeration.” He inspected your badge then too.

“Jewelry and Gem Theft. Floor 7, right? What brings you down here to steal our coffee?” The argument was pointed, but his demeanor was anything but. He was smiling, enjoying this. A little too much, you seethed. You couldn’t stand around arguing all day.

“We’re out too.”

“Try another floor?”

“Time is of the essence here, Art Squad.” There was no room for addressing him politely now, he was riling you up on purpose. 

“If you didn’t stand here arguing with me you could’ve tried another floor by now, Jewels.”

He must think he’s so clever.

“Please. This is DEFCON 5.”

“You do know DEFCON 5 is the good one, right?”

“You know what I mean. Please.” He looked at you and then the newly brewed cup, biting the inside of his cheek, thinking through the problem.

“Tell you what. I am willing to split this if you are. Maybe it’s enough to fix both of them.” The crease between his eyebrows was deep as he studied your face, “I know Adrian is too out of it to notice he’s getting jipped, not sure about your boss.” You shrugged.

“Wendy will manage. It’s enough to keep her from throwing something at my head next time I walk in.” He dutifully split the coffee between two of the recyclable travel cups and handed one to you. You took it gratefully. 

“I hope this keeps you from… Dying? What’s up with that anyway?” You’re not sure what made this person that was essentially a stranger so interested in your life, but something about it feels nice.

“She had a really bad breakup: anniversary, thought it was going to be a proposal, instead it was him being a piss-baby. She’s a little all over the place right now. They’d been together for years and now there’s just… A hole. She doesn’t know how to deal with it.” Pike’s nod in response is emphatic, giving the cup in his hand a little wave.

“Same with him. Terrible breakup. He didn’t see it coming at all. She broke up with him on a voicemail… Then moved. ‘Course it just put him in this crazy funk, though. Doesn’t wanna work or do much of anything. No violence. Yet. But it’s sad to see.” You winced.

“That’s a rough one. Best of luck with him, Art Squad. Thank you. I owe you one. Seriously.”

“You definitely do, Jewels.” His smile is blindingly bright as he jokes. It makes you smile back.

“See you around.”

series taglist: @whiskeyslasso​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​

forever tags: @acomplicatedprofession​ @hdlynn​ @makaela27 @space-floozy @catfishingmorales​ @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa​ @princessbatears​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @findhimfives​

[carewyncromwell]

“And at last I see the light! And it's like the fog has lifted... And at last I see the light, And it's like the sky is new! And it's warm and real and bright, And the world has somehow shifted... All at once everything is different Now that I see you...”

~ “I See the Light (cover),” by Elsie Lovelock and Kestin Howard

x~x~x~x

It’s interesting how, even when two parties know they have something special, it can still take a while before they find the right words to express how they feel and what they want. Even when Orion Amari and Carewyn Cromwell had each come to grips with their romantic feelings, it didn’t really change how many obstacles would be in the way of them living a traditional “happily-ever-after” with wedding bells and a little house of their own. Although yes, Orion felt deeply for Carewyn, as she did him, they both also greatly valued their own independence and autonomy. Carewyn and Orion didn’t even live in the same country anymore, one residing in England and the other Scotland, and their respective careers -- one at the London-based Ministry of Magic, the other for the Montrose Magpies Quidditch team -- would make it close to impossible for them to move. Merging households would be a nightmare under such circumstances...and yet, at the same time, neither Orion nor Carewyn was comfortable giving only part of their heart away. They both knew that the subject of their affection deserved everything and more from whatever partner they chose -- they just had no idea if they could be that “everything” for them, even if they wanted to.

That all changed, though, one day in December 1999, a year after the Second Wizarding War ended.

Carewyn’s feelings for Orion had not gone unnoticed by her closest friends. The lawyer’s unofficial twin and fellow “Fireball” Charlie Weasley had been almost affronted when he caught wind that Carewyn had let Orion stay the night on the futon in her living room without having made plans ahead of time -- Carewyn was a planner first and foremost and she never let Charlie crash at her place without giving her fair warning. Charlie vented his disbelief to Ben Copper and his wife Wendy @drinkyoursoupbitch, and they were both pretty shocked too. Wendy ended up following up with Carewyn later that week when she stopped by Carewyn’s office one evening for some coffee.

“On your futon, huh?” she said, her blue eyebrows raised and her lips spread into a playful smile.

Carewyn rolled her eyes up toward the skylight in her ceiling, her red lips turned up in a smile. "Charlie's that jealous about it?"

Her smile faded as she turned her focus toward her paperwork rather than look at Wendy. She wasn’t uncomfortable, of course -- she just had a lot of work to do that night before getting back home and starting dinner for herself and Erik, that was all.

“ ...Orion had had a late night, and he'd have to be back in London early the next morning. It'd be cruel to force him to go home and then lug himself and Eos out of bed so early, just to get back where he already was..."

Wendy's eyes twinkled knowingly. "Oh, of course. But still...is there something there?"

Carewyn kept her focus on the files she was sorting through, her blue eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly as she siphoned through them.

"I suppose it depends on what ‘something’ you're referring to,” she said after a moment. “If you're referring to a romantic relationship, then no, there is not." 

Was that a touch of melancholy in her eyes? Surely not. 

Wendy studied the other woman over the rim of her coffee cup as she took a long sip.

"I mean, Carey," she tapped the porcelain, considering her words carefully. Her tone shifted to a gentle sincerity, "is there an attraction there for you?"

Carewyn stopped rifling through her papers. She paused, before slowly closing her eyes and exhaling through her nose in a heavy sigh.

"...Of course there is," she admitted very softly. "I've always been fond of Orion -- I liked him pretty much immediately, and I respected him all the more, as the years went on. All I wonder is when that fondness...grew to the point that it had to plant roots. And what to do about it, now that it has..."

Wendy smiled fondly. "Well, I suppose the big question is, do you want to do anything? I mean...if you were looking for a tofu-eating Quidditch player to pine over, you certainly picked the best one."

Carewyn rested her head in her hand on her desk, her eyes falling onto the wood instead of looking up at her friend. "That's just it, Wendy, I...I do want to do something. I don't want to have to bottle this up -- I want to protect him, to take care of him and Eos, to...love him with everything I am. But..."

Her gaze moved up to the skylight too, her blue eyes deepening with more of that odd melancholy.

"...At school...when I dated Andre...I didn't know myself like I do now. I probably would've accepted a marriage, and a family, and frequent sex, at that time, not knowing any different. But now that I do know myself...know that I don't want that happy ending attached to most romances...how do I pursue a romantic relationship? How do I ask someone to date a woman who wouldn't give up her job and life for him...no matter how deep my feelings are?"

She closed her eyes, visibly hurting at this thought.

"Especially when...he's already been hurt before...when he's already had partners who tried to force him to give up everything, to please them?"

Carewyn bowed her head.

"...How can I love him the way he deserves, when I'm so selfish?"

Wendy considered her answer, her eyes drifting up to the skylight in Carewyn’s ceiling that reflected the London sky miles above them.

“They say that sacrifice is a foundation of love, and it’s true,” she said slowly, “but...sacrifice between two people who love each other is a two-way street. I love my work — you know I do. Ben knows how much I love it. But if he ever asked me to give up,” she gestured broadly, “everything...I’d do it. I wouldn’t want to, and Merlin, it would hurt like…well, more than anything in the world! But I’d do it. And…I know in my bones he would do the same for me. Hell, he’s almost died for me a few times...”

The old memories made her pause, closing her eyes briefly to try to block them out.

“Thing is…he doesn’t ask for that. He…won’t ask for it.”

Wendy looked back down at Carewyn seriously.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is...sometimes loving someone -- not just being in love, but really loving them -- means that you know you could ask them to move heaven and earth for you and they’d do it, no matter how much it’d hurt...but you won’t ask that. It’s good that you’re thinking about this now, of course -- but you don’t have to have it all figured out just yet. If you want this...don’t be afraid to let Orion in. Let him see everything you have, and everything you fear, and let him decide. Maybe he wouldn’t want you to give up everything you’ve built here for him. Maybe he would. Maybe he’d want you to meet him halfway, somehow. But…let him make that choice to love you, whatever it might look like. You’ll never know if it’s meant to be if you don’t ever ask if it could be.”

Although Carewyn didn't look Wendy in the face nearly at all as she spoke, it clearly was because she was taking in what she said and thinking hard, not because she wasn't listening. When Wendy was finished, Carewyn brought a hand up to brush her bangs out of her face, her hand sliding past her right eye as it went. Then, with a swallow, she forced herself to look Wendy in the face at last, even though her eyes were still full of so much emotion.

"...Thank you, Wendy.”

The lawyer couldn't keep eye contact very long. Soon her eyes once again almost of their own accord drifted off to the corner just over Wendy's shoulder.

"I suppose...I always have had a bad tendency, to put the bar too high for myself. Orion's never expected perfection from me, however much I expect it from myself..."

Her eyes softened noticeably.

"He’s always been happy with what he has, even while he’s reaching for something better. But I know he appreciates the work and time I put in, too...how much I care. Even when I care too much, and 'flare up like a Fire Crab.'”

She brought a hand up to try to hold in her giggling.

Wendy’s lips spread into a mischievous grin. “Hey, at least he doesn’t compare your temperament and coloring to a Billywig. But I guess it’s his way of getting back at me for calling him the Tofu King -- ”

In that moment, Ben Copper had abruptly run down the hall, skidding to a halt in the door frame of Carewyn’s office.

“Carey,” he said urgently, his face very white and grave, “the Aurors have just been sent to your street.”

Carewyn and Wendy both shot to their feet in alarm.

“What!?”

As the prosecutor for nearly all of the cases involving ex-Death Eaters, Carewyn had received a lot of recognition and praise, but she’d understandably also gotten a few anonymous death threats from people who had Death Eater sympathies. She wasn’t the only one -- quite a few other prominent members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement like Talbott and the newly hired Harry Potter got them too. This day in particular, however, a swarm of dementors -- newly banned from Azkaban by Minister Shacklebolt, in part due to their association with Lord Voldemort during the War -- had been set loose in several areas of London that contained the homes of prominent Ministry employees...including Carewyn’s. Naturally Carewyn herself was not home yet -- but her ward Erik had just returned from Hogwarts for winter break in the midst of his first year, and he as a latch-key kid was at their flat  completely alone until Carewyn got off work. 

Carewyn immediately dropped everything and rushed home as quickly as she could, Ben and Wendy in tow. When she arrived on her street corner, she found the neighborhood in chaos. The entire street was blanketed by unnatural, heavy black fog, as if it was being suffocated by a blanket made of mist and tar. Muggles were running blindly in all directions since they couldn’t see the dementors, while the Aurors who could cast Patronuses shot them at every part of the darkness they could reach. Ben, Wendy, and Carewyn immediately all cast theirs, and their dun stallion, unicorn, and Abraxan winged horse charged into the fray to help the Aurors’ other pearly white creatures in their fight. Carewyn herself was determined to find Erik and raced in the direction of her flat. As she and the Coppers drew close, however, they were startled by what they saw.

Carewyn’s Abraxan Patronus had charged to the front, flapping its wide wings in an attempt to break up the suffocating darkness. As it did so, another bright white Patronus soared through the air toward hers, gliding through the air with incredible grace and helping it beat the dementors back.

It was another Abraxan winged horse.

The second graceful Abraxan Patronus’s wings seemed to brush lightly over the wings of Carewyn’s before flying back in the direction it’d come from. Her eyes very wide, Carewyn raced after it, her own Patronus flying over her as she went. The second Abraxan Patronus ended up landing a short ways away, its wings spread protectively over two people knelt down on the ground -- a small almost-thirteen-year-old boy with curly blond hair and tears streaming down his pale face, and the Patronus’s caster, an olive-skinned man with an uneven haircut, a beard, and black eyes, dressed in harem pants, arm warmers, and loose-fitting robes.

It was Orion. And although Carewyn halted mid-step several feet away, her breath stilling in her throat, her Patronus flew down to meet Orion’s, the two Abraxans’ noses touching when they met.

Orion had known for years that his and Carewyn’s Patronuses were the same. The knowledge had surprised him, but he’d managed to keep his emotions in check at the time. Carewyn, however, didn’t do as well in containing hers -- her hands flew up to her mouth to try to suppress the choke that left her throat and although she didn’t cry, her eyes flooded with tears.

Her Patronus disappeared in a puff of white smoke as she barrelled over to them, collapsing onto her knees so she could pull Erik into her arms and hug him tightly, her face white with terror.

“Erik! Erik, thank Merlin -- ”

Erik was very pale and shaking in her arms, but he had trouble looking her in the face. His jaw was clenched hard as he clutched at Carewyn’s sleeve. Ben and Wendy rushed over too, looking just as harried.

“Erik -- kid, you okay?” asked Wendy.

Ben glanced from Erik in Carewyn’s arms to up at Orion and his Abraxan Patronus hovering over them, his brown eyes slightly narrowed. Orion’s face was just as solemn.

“I was in the area when I felt the dementors’ presence,” he explained. “I found him out here, shooting Lumos charms and Knockback Jinxes at the dementors to try to drive them away...it’s possible he may have come out to help, knowing Muggles can’t see them...”

Carewyn cradled Erik in her arms, her hands resting on his back and the back of his head protectively as she squeezed him tight and gently stroked his hair.

Leaving Erik at home alone was never an arrangement she’d liked, but he was old enough to be there at her flat without supervision, as long as he stayed inside and didn’t let anyone in. But clearly the protective enchantments she’d placed weren’t strong enough to prevent the dementors’ draining influence from creeping inside...and once Erik felt that, it was unsurprising to Carewyn that he’d wanted to do something about it. His history in dementor captivity when he was rounded up by Umbridge’s Muggle-Born Registration Commission was explanation enough.

She hadn’t done enough. She hadn’t thought that anyone would go so far as to threaten her son ward, while she wasn’t there to protect him...

Carewyn swallowed the huge, painful lump that had formed in her throat, closing her eyes tight to try to force back her tears. She had to show a brave face for Erik: he was scared enough as it was.

The image of Orion’s and her Patronuses touching noses rippled over her mind. The memory of their light, equally bright and perfectly matched, seemed to weaken the grip of the fear strangling her heart.

His Patronus was the same as hers. His soul...was the same as hers...protecting Erik when she hadn’t been there...flying to the side of hers, when it was most needed...

The memory filled her up with such courage and warmth that Carewyn thought she’d likely never struggle for ammunition to create another Patronus again.

“Erik...we need to get you inside,” the lawyer said at last, her voice coming out as a low, steadier whisper than before. “Some chocolate will help.”

Ben brought a hand onto Carewyn’s shoulder and squeezed it. “We’ll take care of things out here with the Aurors, Carey. You stay with Erik.”

Wendy glanced at Orion.

“Orion, maybe you should go with them with your Patronus...clear them a way back home, you know.”

Although her eyes and face were serious, the way her eyes flickered between Carewyn and Orion spoke volumes. Orion, his head bowing almost self-consciously, nodded. He tentatively brought an arm around Carewyn’s shoulders, his black eyes trailing over her face to down at Erik.

“Erik,” he said softly, “can you stand, little Jarvey?”

Although he wasn’t able to speak, Erik clutched onto Carewyn and Orion’s arms and used the grip to hoist himself up onto his feet. Sensing that he was still too weak and disoriented to walk on his own, Orion quickly swooped in and snaked one of his strong arms around the boy to hold him up.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. Carewyn moved to Erik’s other side and wrapped her own arm around Erik too, so that both she and Orion were supporting him. “...We’ve got you...”

Orion’s eyes met Carewyn’s over Erik’s head. The light from his Patronus reflected in their depths, making them resemble two tiny night skies flecked with stars. A perfect match for Carewyn’s, the color of which could be compared to a cloudless blue daytime sky.

((OOC: Thanks to @drinkyoursoupbitch for roleplaying that first scenario between Wendy and Carewyn with me so many months ago!! I’m so delighted I finally got to include it in this! 💙))

[nothingunrealistic]

naturally was going "hmm what kind of fins (fish) would young taylor in the bathtub wish for. how would we know what they think would be the best fish tail to have" & then was just thinking of Younger Taylor Hcs just in general. got any you'd wanna share, or like, any faves from what's been provided either as unofficial ideas or via those glimpses of info in the show's text. Fave can be in a "truly enjoy this" way & or simply more of a "truly Thinking About This An Extra Lot" sense lol. They

Boy Do I… first, a listing of everything we Know from canon about their childhood / early life / family:

taylor grew up in “a place like” connerty’s small apartment where “the heat pipes bang practically all night” in the winter [2x11]

taylor’s mom would deem the apartment they rented for her & douglas too expensive, and if she & douglas were shopping for furniture, they’d argue about how much things cost [4x07]

taylor never thought they’d be thinking about living a life where they book private jets [2x09]

the masons’ home is hundreds of miles from any body of water (as shown here) and douglas had to fly to nyc to see taylor [4x03]

douglas figures taylor’s mom won’t miss him getting in her way back home [4x03]

taylor has a sister; when she gets married, in michigan, taylor is part of the wedding party [2x09]

at a young age, taylor was always measuring information around them, and sweet / affectionate, especially toward douglas [4x03]

taylor’s favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes [4x09]

taylor was never really douglas’s “little girl” like he claims [4x03]

the first time douglas brought taylor to his lab, it meant a lot to them, and the next day they gave him designs to remake it [4x06]

douglas taught taylor: “don’t just have an idea, build the model that proves it” [4x07]

according to douglas, taylor gets the “unyielding compulsion to get it right” from him, and their relationship was best when they “kept things mathematical” [4x03]

douglas wishes he could have built real wealth / success and given it all to taylor [4x03]

wendy mentions to taylor that douglas has “exploited your need for his approval,” and taylor agrees that douglas only cares about his own advancement rather than being a father first [4x07]

douglas dislikes the military / the government [4x06]

taylor is surprised by douglas quoting a pop song [4x07]

when taylor was younger, the bathtub was the only place they could go to be alone and think, and they’d press their legs against the sides hard enough to make them go numb [3x11]

taylor started playing online poker at age 12 under the screen name ZackCody892 and played up to 16 tables at a time (and for thousands of hours) [2x03]

douglas was fired from his job at an aerospace firm when taylor was in 7th grade. this firing damaged their relationship with him and “affected the home life.” for years, taylor thought douglas had been fired so that the firm could steal his invention, and only found out the truth from his personnel file [2x11, 4x05, 4x06]

taylor has had 927 hours of therapy prior to their session with dr. gus, and that number hasn’t changed at their first session with wendy [2x03, 2x08]

douglas, in bringing taylor food and coffee, claims they rarely take the time to look after themself [4x04]

taylor used to lie to themself and others but is now past that, and knows “how hard it is to have things inside you that you can’t communicate” and “what it’s like to face public scrutiny over who you are” [2x08, 3x02, 4x04]

when taylor reminds douglas about their pronouns, he says “this talk again?”, implying it’s a discussion they’ve had before [4x03]

taylor once got into a bar fight with a high school classmate (it’s unclear whether they were still in high school at the time) after seeing y tu mamá también in a theater [5x07]

taylor was active in occupy wall street in college [2x10]

taylor played poker in college against classmates, grad students, & professors, but their opponents kicked them out for winning too much; additionally, the competitive aspect made them sick (described as “malaise” or “vertigo-like symptoms”) [2x03, 4x12]

taylor planned to go to chicago for grad school and study with eugene fama [2x02]

mafee picked taylor as his intern because they were the only applicant who wasn’t boring / didn’t care about the same bullshit that everyone from wharton or harvard did [5x04]

douglas initiated the visit to taylor, claiming it was because he’d missed them, after not being ready to see them even though taylor’s mother wanted to visit countless times [4x03, 4x07]

taylor is trying to be “everything to their father” in funding his company, and neither of them will be able to come back from taylor being forced to betray him [4x06, 4x07]

wow that’s a long list. and now, my own thoughts and extrapolations:

taylor grew up somewhere in the west / midwest with their parents and sister, who’s a few years older than them, in a house small enough that they had to share a bedroom with her. hence, needing to hide out in the bathtub to get any space & time alone.

from very early on, taylor was douglas’s favorite child and he was their favorite parent — douglas saw taylor’s intelligence & insight (and saw himself in them) and chose to put time & effort into teaching / guiding / molding them, hoping they’d one day follow in his footsteps / support his ambitions, and taylor liked that attention & recognition. (douglas’s attitude toward taylor’s sister is essentially “well she’s here too i guess.”)

douglas taught taylor enough about aerospace engineering & mathematics for them to understand the value of his lattice fin concept, and to generally have a better grasp of engineering concepts than your average (even very well-read) business major / financier. (remember how rebecca knew a robot’s “proprietary” power source was a combustion engine because her father was a mechanic? same deal here. see also: the “smash electronics apart to find the microchips inside and figure out who makes them” strategy; taylor comparing losing grigor’s money to building a turbo engine and having the nitrous tank blow up in their face.) this manifested in both directly teaching them in his lab and in playing games like the silverware-stacking game we see in 4x03, or like douglas throwing out math problems for taylor to solve on the spot, or the two of them solving math problems together.

douglas also imparted his taste in music (which does not include anything new / popular) to taylor, though their taste as an adult (or even as, like, a teenager) isn’t identical to his. this is how they discovered rush in the first place and why they have such strong opinions about The Best Rush Albums. (if douglas had such a ranking, it’d be closer to axe’s than to taylor’s.)

listening to rush helped make taylor a libertarian 😔 that’s just life when you’re a neil peart stan, which of course they are. they admire his lyrics + his drumming talent + his absolute poker face in performances.

douglas also taught taylor to play blackjack, which inspired them to go and learn poker on their own and start playing online. they tried to keep it a secret, but it's hard to be secretive about spending hours a day playing online poker on the family computer. (this is 2006 or so, after all.)

taylor figured out that they were Not A Girl (or at least had thoughts of “hm i don’t enjoy being addressed / perceived as A Girl”) fairly young but didn’t acquire a concrete vocabulary for / specific understanding of that for some time. (if douglas is calling they/them pronouns “that woke stuff” in 2019, he sure wasn’t saying anything clear or favorable about trans people in 2009 or 1999. ditto for online poker sites.)

douglas’s firing exacerbated every negative aspect of the mason family dynamic. he doubled down on pushing taylor toward his field, urging them to succeed where he’d failed, and warning them against letting anyone Steal Their Value. money got tighter, taylor’s parents argued more, and any activities taylor was in (like, say, swimming at the ymca) that required payment got cut; they may have figured out how to make money (illegally!) from online poker at this point. the combined stress of financial instability, being torn between pursuing their own ambitions and fulfilling douglas’s expectations for them, and increasing Gendered Expectations in general — plus the whole “playing online poker for hours a day” thing — probably put taylor in therapy within a few months, if they weren’t in therapy already. (how did their parents pay for it? i don’t know either.)

stealing this from that interview asia & brian & david did in 2017: if taylor had not already taught themself to think and speak directly & incisively and look people in the eye when they talk, et cetera, it started here, whether in therapy or on their own time.

taylor went to college in new york city. douglas did not want them to do this, for a number of reasons, and would have preferred they stick closer to home (and study something other than finance), but doing so would have made them miserable.

by the time they finished high school (circa 2012), taylor had properly heard of trans people and figured that they were somehow One Of Them, but not until college did they hear of people being nonbinary and go “ohhhh yeah that’s me.” (they’d also gotten a Short Haircut in high school, but didn’t go full buzzcut until college. unsurprisingly, they got some shit in high school for being Visibly gnc.)

for some period of time while figuring out their gender situation, taylor went by the name neil as a nod to neil peart. (it’s fun to imagine that they still have a faceless twitter / tumblr account where they go by neil. doubles as a way to prevent anyone connecting it to their real life.)

taylor came out to their family while in college. their mom and sister had fairly similar reactions of “well i don’t Get this exactly, but i love you and want to support you and i’m sure you know what you're talking about better than i do and you did clearly hate it every time i urged you to conform to Standards Of Womanhood so sure i can call you Them and my [child / sibling] :)” given some time to think about it. douglas… well. if he’s starting from a place of “i don’t get this,” he’ll end up at “so it must be wrong and stupid, because i’m always right,” especially if This = his favorite child being different in some significant way from who / what he thought they were. obviously he doesn’t react well or supportively, and the strain in his relationship with taylor tips over into full-blown estrangement. bad times for everyone.

if taylor’s bar fight happened when they were old enough to legally enter a bar, it happened after coming out to their family (also after the live poker fiasco), and before making plans for grad school / internships. most likely it was on a summer break they were spending back in their hometown. (another fun thought: taylor seeing the video of axe punching a guy, just weeks after they punched a guy, and going “well maybe i should work for him.”)

if douglas was at taylor’s sister’s wedding (and maybe he wasn’t!), it was awkward for everyone when he and taylor crossed paths again. barest of pleasantries, passive-aggressive comments, et cetera. naturally, it took a few more years — and douglas realizing that taylor, now being fairly wealthy and successful, could probably fund his dream project if they didn’t hate him — for him to decide to visit them.

[searchingwardrobes]

Start of Time: 9/9

Here it is! The end of this journey! This has always been a gift for @teamhook​, and my dear, I hope this ending brightens your day after all you have been through! I always knew this was where it would lead, with these exact bits of dialogue inspired by the song by Gabrielle Aplin that you shared with me. I even incorporated some lines from the song into the closing scene for you. Sending you lots of love, my friend!

Summary: Killian and his son are driving through a bad snow storm when they find a disoriented woman walking down the road. The question is, how can they help her get home when she has no idea who she is? Written for @teamhook​​​ on her birthday.

Rating: T

Trigger warning: Alice Jones appears in this fic and Alice and Henry are both Killian’s adopted children with Milah. Henry isn’t Emma’s. Positive past Millian. No Neal.

Words: about 3k in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging:  @snowbellewells​​​ @kmomof4​​​@jennjenn615​​​ @kday426​​​ @let-it-raines​​​ @bethacaciakay​​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​​ @thislassishooked​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​​@whimsicallyenchantedrose​​​ @snidgetsafan​​​​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​​​​ @winterbaby89​​​​ @distant-rose​​@shireness-says​​​​ @xhookswenchx​​​​ @optomisticgirl​​​​ @spartanguard​​​​ @branlovestowrite​​​​ @welllpthisishappening​​​​ @stahlop​​​​ @hollyethecurious​​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​​ @scientificapricot​​​ @wellhellotragic​​​ @vvbooklady1256​​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​​ @superchocovian​​​ @nikkiemms​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​  @ultraluckycatnd​​​ @ohmakemeahercules​

It was awkwardly silent in the elevator. Honestly, it had been awkwardly silent the majority of the time between her and Walsh ever since she got home. Yet it seemed to hang even heavier between them since the doctor’s appointment earlier.

The elevator stopped at her floor, and the ding when the doors opened only punctuated the silence. Emma dug in her purse for her keys, and wished like every other time Walsh rode up with her how to politely send him away. He hadn’t pushed her for anything physical - mostly. He just whined like an oversized baby about it, constantly asking her when things would get back to normal.

In that sense, today’s appointment was almost a relief.

“Well, thanks for walking me up,” Emma told him as she grasped her keys.

Walsh gave her a smile that he must have thought was charming. It wasn’t.

“Come on now, Emma, you can’t let your fiance in for a few minutes?”

She pressed her hand firmly to his chest as he leaned in. “You’re not my fiance.”

“Of course I am. You just don’t remember.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, first of all, you heard the doctor today. Chances are, I won’t ever remember.”

“Chances is the word. You heard him, there’s always a chance. Especially if I jog your memory.”

He went to put his arms around her, and for the first time, Emma had to shove him off. It sent her heart beating erratically, and not in a pleasant way. It also sent anger flaring through her veins.

“God, do you even listen to me?” she shouted. She had tried so hard since she got back to New York to cooperate, hoping that following the lead of Walsh and Regina would bring her memories rushing back. Now she was sick of it.

“Actually I do,” Walsh snapped, “which is why I know you aren’t even trying to remember.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You act like I’m doing this on purpose. And no, you don’t listen, because I wasn’t finished. Second, I don’t have a ring, Walsh.” Emma waved her hand in front of him.

“People don’t need a ring to get engaged.”

“I also listened to your message,” she bit out. “You proposed, but I never accepted. You may not need a ring, genius, but the girl has to actually say yes.”

“You didn’t say no.”

“Well, I am now.”

Walsh blinked. “Emma, seriously, this isn’t you.”

“No Walsh, it is me! Maybe this whole experience has changed me, maybe I’ll never fully remember who I was before, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have always been hesitant to marry you.” Emma pressed her fist, still clutching her keys, to her chest. “I know you and Regina keep treating me like a wounded puppy, but I do remember some things clearly. I was getting away to Maine because I was stressed and confused. I was unsure of so many things, including us.”

Walsh’s face fell, as if he were finally beginning to understand. “But I thought we were so good together.”

Emma was able to smile at him. She stepped closer, and laid a hand on his arm. “You were comfortable - safe. Being with you didn’t risk my heart because my feelings were on the surface. Your proposal brought all of that into focus.”

“So what you’re saying is, you were always going to say no.”

Emma nodded, truly feeling sorry for Walsh for the first time. “I’m so sorry. I don’t remember our first date or how we met, but I do remember that.”

Walsh nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping. He gave her a platonic hug, and Emma accepted it. Then he walked away from her, and when the elevator doors closed behind him, Emma sagged with relief against her door.

The phone in her jacket pocket vibrated, and she pulled it out to see text messages from her bandmates pop up one after another.

How did the appointment go? - Elsa

Did the doctor have good news? Are you getting your memories back? I’m dying with worry here! - Anna

Calling to check on you. And don’t take this the wrong way, but have you dumped Walsh yet? - Ruby

I wanna hear more about this hot vet you were snowed in with. And don’t tell me he wasn’t hot, I can read between the lines. - Ruby

Emma smiled as she scrolled through the messages. It was strange the way a brain injury worked. The moment she walked through her front door and saw her three best friends waiting for her, memories had flooded her. She didn’t remember anything but confusing feelings where Walsh was concerned, she couldn’t remember this supposed solo career Regina kept going on about, but she did remember these three amazing women. She couldn’t remember performing, but memories had returned of the times they spent together both on the road and before they hit it big. She also remembered the words to every single one of their songs. The doctor had explained to her that the brain was a complex organ. His theory was that she had retained her emotional memories, but not the details of her life.

Bizarre didn’t begin to cover it.

Emma locked the door behind her, toed off her shoes, and dropped her keys in the catch all by the door. She collapsed onto a couch that was too hard in a room that was too cold. The view of the city skyline outside her window seemed foreign. With a sigh, she moved to her bedroom, shooting off texts to her friends as she went. She slipped into a pair of comfortable pajamas, collapsed onto her bed, and grabbed the tv remote.

This was apparently her life, and she simply had no idea what to do with it.

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

“Checkmate!” Liam crowed with satisfaction, but his face fell when he looked across the chess board to find Killian staring absently at the chess pieces. “Little brother? I beat you. Again.”

Killian sighed and knocked over some of the pieces in frustration. “Sorry. I guess I’m just not in the mood tonight.”

Liam frowned. “This is still about Wendy, isn’t it?”

“Emma,” Killian corrected him as he ran a hand wearily down his face, “her name is actually Emma. Emma Swan.” His hand dropped to his lap, and he studied his brother warily. “And please spare me the I told you so.”

Liam leaned back, both hands lifted in the air in surrender. “I’m not going to say that, trust me. This is a situation where I hate being right.”

Killian arched a brow. “My brother? Hates being right? Who are you and what have you done to my real brother?”

“Haha, very funny. Seriously though, I liked her. I liked how happy you were when she was here. If the situation had been different -”

Killian cut him off. “But it wasn’t. She has a life, a career, a fiance somewhere else. God, I was such a fool.”

“No, you weren’t. You were generous in offering your home to her. I was wrong, Killian. You did the right thing. I can’t believe I was so callous towards her.”

Killian drummed his fingers on the table as he regarded Liam. “You never seem to realize what an ass you’re being to the women in my life until it’s too late.”

Liam leaned his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his fisted hands. “With Milah, you’re right. When you adopted Henry, I still gave her hell. I worried a child was just another novelty to her. But then she was such a wonderful mother, then you got Alice, and . . . .”

Liam trailed off with a long sigh. Killian’s brow furrowed in shock.

“I thought you didn’t soften towards her until she got sick. Why didn’t you say anything? Try to mend things with her?”

“You know how bloody stubborn I am. I’m sorry, Killian, I would do it all differently if I had the chance.”

“I know.” Killian could never stay angry at his brother for long. He loved him too much.

“Besides, who says it's too late with Wendy - I mean Emma. She may be missing you just as much as you’re missing her.”

Killian absentmindedly picked up a pawn and twirled it between his fingers. “Doubtful. She’s a bloody rock star, for God’s sake.”

“The kids miss her too, don’t they?” “Aye.”

“She said she’d keep in touch.”

“People always say that. Then they never do.”

“Give her time. None of this can be easy.”

Killian was about to counter that Emma had no reason to think of them now that her memories had most likely returned, but before he could, there was a knock at the door. He gave his brother a confused look. It was late, and the kids were already asleep. Who could possibly be knocking? He hurried to the door, looked through the keyhole, then swore under his breath to find the view blocked by greenery. Alice had made a wreath for the door, and he couldn’t see a damn thing past her handiwork. He wrenched the door open, expecting it to be a local farmer with a livestock emergency.

It wasn’t a farmer.

“Emma,” he breathed in awe.

She smiled, and it was like the sun came out.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you call me that.”

Killian chuckled as he scratched behind his ear. “Well, I’m a bit embarrassed that I didn’t

recognize you. Let’s just say it’s mostly Radio Disney around here. And something about K-Pop which I don’t really -”

“I was never engaged,” Emma blurted out.

“Oh?”

Emma twisted her hands nervously and shrugged. “He proposed, but I never accepted.” She trailed off, her gaze darting to her feet. “It felt important for you to know that.”

“There’s no need to explain,” he told her gently. “I’m just glad you’re getting your memories back.”

“I’m not,” she said, her gaze flying back to lock on his.

“What do you mean?”

She bit on her lower lip. “I mean, I don’t have my memories back. I remember bits and pieces, feelings mostly.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Look, there’s something I just gotta say, alright?”

Killian nodded. He’d been sort of speechless anyway since he opened the door.

She licked her lips nervously before plunging in. “The doctors say I might never get my memories back. Not all of them, anyway. But I’m okay with that because what little I remember either isn’t that great or it’s fantastic.” She winced as she closed her eyes for a second. “I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, “but I’m still listening.”

She returned his smile with a wobbly one of her own. “Right. So, I remember that I was a foster kid. I must have been since I was a baby because that’s all I remember. I don’t remember any of the places I lived or who I lived with. All I remember is that I never had a home.”

His heart broke for her and the sheen of tears in her eyes, but he didn't interrupt.

“I remember I ran away all the time. I just figured that when you really have a home, when you leave, you just miss it. So my whole childhood, I just kept running waiting to feel that, but I never did. Then I found my band. And I got to keep running, on the road you know? But it was okay because my family was running with me. I think that’s why they’re the only people I remember. Except -”

She paused, and a look of fear flashed over her face. He took a step closer and took her hand. “Except?” he prompted.

“Except you. And the kids.” She winced again, shaking her head and laughing. “Not that I wouldn’t remember you, I mean I met you after. What I’m trying to say is . . . I miss you. When I left here, I missed it all so much. My band - the people in it - were home, but that was ending. And then I met you - and Alice and Henry. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s like my life got a reset that day you found me. I want to start time, right here. With you.”

Killian searched her face, scarcely daring to believe this was real. He reached up with a shaking hand and traced her jaw with his finger.

“What about your career?” he asked softly. The last thing he wanted was to take advantage of her while she was in a vulnerable place.

She smiled at him as a single tear slipped down her face. “I never wanted that career. I loved the band - the people, I mean. But not the performing or the limelight. I just want to play and write songs on my guitar. I can do that anywhere.”

He let hope expand his heart for the first time. He cupped her face with both hands, catching her tear with his thumb.

“Stay with me?” he asked her.

Emma’s eyes crinkled at the force of her smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Killian bent slowly to press his lips to hers in a tender kiss. She sighed and tilted her head, allowing him more access. He threaded his fingers through her soft hair as his tongue lazily explored her mouth. Emma pulled back and smiled with such blinding happiness, he could hardly take it in. Then her eyes fluttered closed, and she captured his lips again. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. He never wanted to let her go.

I'm an atom in a sea of nothing, looking for another to combine. Maybe we could be the start of something. Be together at the start of time.

Rolling Stone Magazine - Two Years Later:

. . . The Grammy’s this year brought one big surprise: Emma Swan Jones, former member of the female rock band Wendy Sewed it On, took home the Song of the Year award for penning Ruby Lucas’s number one smash hit “The Song in Your Heart.” The romantic power ballad was a slight departure for the normally angst-filled alternative rock Swan-Jones was known for when she was part of Wendy Sewed it On. Yet her new hyphenated last name along with her acceptance speech may give her fans a hint for the change. In her speech, she thanked “my true love, my husband Killian. Words can’t say enough how much you mean to me or how you’ve inspired me. I wouldn’t have this award without you, babe.” Judging by the baby bump she was proudly showing off beneath her Elie Saab couture gown on the red carpet, Emma Swan Jones is very happy with her man which may mean more romantic ballads from her in the future . . .

[kdramaanalyst]

THE KING: ETERNAL MONARCH REVIEW

EDIT: I AM SO SORRY, THIS IS A SECONDARY BLOG AND I JUST LEARNED THAT I CAN'T REPLY TO COMMENTS. PLEASE CHECK MY PINNED BLOG WHERE I WROTE ABOUT THIS PROBLEM. THANK YOU!

Spoilers ahead!!! Read at your own risk. Once again, I am not an expert and these are my personal opinions. If you have disagreements, let's talk it over. Don't judge me, let's judge the show together instead and have an understanding.

For the first drama that I am going to review, I chose The King: Eternal Monarch. A lot of viewers who supported the show with all of their hearts could still not get over its ending. Others who like to binge-watch are relieved because they can finally watch the entire series without waiting for a new episode to air. While some are still mulling over about watching it. Well, I hope I could help you with this review.

• Introduction to the Drama

Short gist:

The story revolves around Lee Gon, present King of Kingdom of Corea. He witnessed his father’s death when he was young, an incident that haunted him until he grew older. Due to unfortunate circumstances, a legendary flute with powers called Manpasikjeok that can open different worlds was cut in half. He was able to get hold half of the flute, while the other half was obtained by Lee Lim, his uncle who killed his father. Lee Lim had been going back and forth two different worlds, plotting foul pursuits to fulfill his evil desires, and disrupting the peace between the two worlds. In order to restore balance and order, Lee Gon also traveled between worlds, meeting Jeong Tae Eul who soon became a significant person in his life.

If you've been watching Korean Dramas for quite a while now, you must be familiar with some of the characters of The King: Eternal Monarch, especially the lead.

If you call yourself a k-drama fan and you don't know who Lee Minho is, give yourself a slap (just kidding, please don't take that seriously). Lee Minho has a good reputation because of his experience, acting skills and obviously, his gorgeous face. He has an impressive list of successful dramas and movies! Most of us probably knew him through his breakthrough role in Boys Over Flowers.

Meanwhile, Kim Go Eun, despite being fairly new to small screen (she first started appearing in movies), is also highly distinguished by a lot of k-drama fans. In all three dramas she starred in, including The King, she always got the lead role. His leading men are no joke either. And because of Kim Go Eun, many of us still wants to be the goblin's bride.

Among the cast also includes the familiar faces of Woo Do Hwan, Kim Kyung Nam, Jung Eun Chae, and Lee Jung Jin.

Anyway, I'll try to share every thought I have from the first time I watched it until it ended. I will also try not to give so much spoilers because the drama just ended. I will talk first about my experience watching it and then I will list at the very bottom some of the issues I have and that list contains major spoilers so watch out for that. As you notice, I always warn you with spoilers using red font color.

• The Experience

When I watched the first teaser of the drama, I got intrigued and a little confused. What worlds are they talking about? Do they have super powers? Is this a historical drama? Questions were instantly formed in my head.

It also reminded me of the drama Queen In Hyun's Man because of a similar scene where the leading man is riding his horse in the middle of the city and finding his woman. But that's just it, the two dramas are completely different. I just mentioned it because others may have felt the same way.

I don't usually watch dramas while it's still fresh. I wait for about two to three weeks before the schedule of the ending so I can binge watch without waiting so much. When I watched The King, there were already 12 episodes available on Netflix. Usually, I would finish 12 episodes in 1-3 days, and if the drama is really good and it's MY STYLE (i said that in an obviously fake Korean accent), I could watch it for an entire day.

However, I finished those 12 episodes in 2 weeks...

Why??? Why did it take me that long???

I wouldn't say I was bored, it's just that during the first few episodes, nothing caught my interest yet. I wasn't convinced that it was a good drama. There was nothing special and I didn't know what to look forward to that's why I couldn't watch it continuously. I got lazy. The pace was slow and the story build up was a little stagnant. It was too slow that I even started watching a long length saeguk just so I can watch something else.

I could have skipped some parts and dropped it but I continued watching and gave it a chance. Though it was a good thing that I didn't stop because as I watched more episodes, the story actually became more exciting. Finally, I saw some progress. I started to get invested in the drama after the eighth episode. That's when the story felt more alive. Finally, there were revelations, more conflicts arose, more emotions were shown, and the story got deeper. I began to appreciate the drama. However, I still don't like the fact that it took me 8 episodes before I started to like it.

• Points that I Liked About the Drama

1. The plot seemed like it's going to be too science fiction-y but it's just the right amount. I was worried that it might be too much for me to handle but it was just okay (i am a potato who dislikes thinking so much, but that depends on my mood lololol). I liked how there's a mix of history in the drama, as well as of politics but it still feels modern. There is a balance.

2. The distinction between the Kingdom of Corea and Republic of Korea is impressive. It's obvious that they put a lot of effort in building their vision of KOC to life.

3. Many people were saying that it's hella confusing and so much was going on. I don't think so. They actually made it easy for viewers to understand about parallel worlds. You don't have to study science facts just to get this drama's concept. I think the slow pace did its job well in this part.

4. The story is unpredictable. You never know what's going to happen next, that's the strength of The King's concept. Because of the two different worlds and the crazy number of characters, there could be a lot of possibilities and backstories.

5. The action scenes are commmendable. I liked the action scenes, the one during the last episode is probably my favorite.

• Points that I Didn't Like About the Drama

1. The slow pace. I don't think I still need to explain more but it totally ruined my whole experience of watching the drama.

2. Many characters didn't leave much impact. Their acting was great, however, I don't see a lot of personalities that standout. The most remarkable ones for me are the characters played by Woo Do Hwan. The other characters, especially the lead, the prime minister and the traitor were okay, too. The others were just bland and years from now, I probably won't remember most of them.

• The Ending (spoiler alert!)

The ending was good. It didn't feel rushed and everyone had a separate ending of their own. I just wished there was more Nari and Eunsup / Yeong and Seung A moment in the end, the conclusion was fine though. I don't like that Prime Minister Koo ended up in jail but Luna became a cop...

I just have one issue regarding the ending that they decided on. In the end they didn't show if Tae Eul became a queen. Well, it would be weird if she became one considering there is Luna in KOC. They can't be together in ROK, too because Gon's counterpart was able to live. So... what? They just kept traveling whenever they have time? Because if that's the case, doesn't that mean they will hide their relationship forever??? I liked that they ended up together but I wish they also kept this in mind. Because it kinda makes me sad. Lol.

• Final Thoughts

Overall, it was alright. It was over-hyped by netizens due to the amazing casting and promotions, but it's not bad at all.

Would I watch it again? No.

Would I recommend it? Yes. Give it a try! I honestly thought I wouldn't like it but I still did, even if it took me 8 episodes, I wouldn't say it wasn't worth it. If you enjoy fantasy dramas with complicated twists and conflicts, this drama is for you. Just have patience and prepare yourself mentally when you've reached the middle. This drama is gloomy and a little heavy, too. It was serious and has a very few humorous scenes.

I am giving The King: Eternal Monarch a 7/10. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

• The King: Eternal Monarch OST Top 5

There are 13 songs in total and everything is so good! I wish I got to hear more of the songs in the drama, some were just played briefly. I swear every song makes me feel things. Choosing just 5 songs is really hard. If you don't watch dramas but love music, give these a listen!!!

My Day Is Full Of You by Zico, Wendy

Orbit by Hwasa

I Fall In Love by Ha Sungwoon

I Just Want To Stay With You by Zion.T

Please Don't Cry by Davichi

Now I'll move on to some of my "issues". This section isn't really what you think. The word "issues" is just intriguing ㅋㅋㅋ but this is just a compilation of my opinions, observations, feelings and other stuff no one might care about in the series. If you have answers for my questions or if you can explain it for me, please enlighten me. Major spoiler ahead!!!

• Issues

1. During the time when Lee Gon was time traveling and finally got back to Repuplic of Korea, it probably took him a lot of time, right? He even took his time to take care of Tae Eul in the hospital. I wish they also showed what was happening in Kingdom of Corea during that time because he's a king and his absence might have caused a ruckus in his kingdom. I can even picture the palace lady Noh getting really worried as Lee Gon travels. The moment he came back, they only gave him updates as if everything was okay.

But since they didn't show it, I guess it is safe to assume that nothing much happened in his kingdom back then. 🤷‍♀️

2. When Gon and Tae Eul met again in Gwanghwamun, why did Tae Eul hug him? In my understanding, at that period of time, Tae Eul only met him twice—once when she was 5 and once when she was 27. So why did she hug him suddenly as if she knows he's going to be a significant person in her life? Their dialogue when they met again when she was 27 wasn't even enough for her to act that way.

3. I hope they also gave Nari more lines and importance. Maybe it's just me, but at first, I thought she and her KOC counterpart would have more significant roles. When I think of it, even without her, the story could still go on. Though this is just a minor issue. ✌

4. Prime Minister Koo. She was a villain, but I didn't really hate her until the last 4-5 episodes (can't recall the exact episode, sorry), though I wouldn't say I hated her so much. I actually liked her at first! She's ambitious, fierce, independent and intelligent. She just got blinded by greed.

My issue here is, am I really supposed to feel like that? In my opinion, her character has the potential to become more heinous and despiteful. I was wondering why they didn't turn her into someone like that? She was just greedy, bitchy, a little sly and annoying.

5. Lee Gon's and Tae Eul's love for each other was a little shallow. Sure, the man who saved Lee Gon when he was a child, had Tae Eul's ID. But how sure was Lee Gon that the woman who owns the I.D. is not a villain? The woman in the ID could lead him to the man who saved him, yes, but it still bugs me how easily they fell in love especially on Lee Gon's part. Maybe I'm just thinking too much. I am sorry. 😅

In spite of that, I still liked their love progression. I didn't ship them that hard but their chemistry wasn't cringey and forced.

6. The scene where Lee Gon gave Tae Eul flowers and then left, was a little confusing. It didn't break my heart, too. I just felt a little sad while watching that scene because Kim Go Eun's acting was good.

7. Who the f is thay yoyo boy??? My guts tell me he's a part of the flute or something because he knows a lot. But I wish it was explained more. It looked weird how he just suddenly appears sometimes and suddenly talks some sense. He remains a mystery.

8. Why the f is Jeong Tae Eul a flat earther??? Well, at least she had a character development in the end. It just annoyed me lmao

9. I don't get why people keep comparing The King: Eternal Monarch to Goblin. Why??? They don't even have the same plot or concept.

10. Court lady Noh was from Republic of Korea... What? Was that necessary?

Don't mind me. Don't mind me. Don't mind me.

Anyway I hate how tumblr wasn't able to save my draft when I was writing additional content. I lost half of it and it makes me furious!!! I had to redo the draft but I can no longer remember some of the things I wrote. I am sad because I lost something that can't be brought back again. This experience earned me a lesson.

That's it for my first review. What are your thoughts? I am a horrible reviewer, I know, but I will do better in the future. Thank you for reading!!!

[totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes]

After the Rain (fanfic)

Emily

By popular demand and my own impulsiveness here is Emily’s chapter. Just a fair warning that this fic overs most of Lydia’s childhood and peeks into her adulthood. At times it gets to be very OOC and refers to the canon within the mini-universe that is my fanfiction collection. Also don’t @me for making my OC Wendy end game haha. 

Emily is a wonderful mother, this fanfic proves it, but uh...grab your tissues this is going to get sad at times

TW: Cancer, mentions of death, suicide mentioned, grief, bullying

____________________________________________________________

Emily knew. Lydia was about four or five years old when Emily got the first indication from a conversation lost to Lydia’s memory. The two of them were walking to the bodega down the street when they ran into the couple that lived in the other half of their duplex, they were a really nice couple with two children, including a son named David who was Lydia’s age and a new baby on the way. From conversation over the years, Emily had learned that the two of them had been together for almost ten years now and though they weren’t legally married they did everything a married couple would. She and Charles hosted them for dinner before while their kids had a playdate, Sara was a lawyer from an environmental company and Jessica was an accountant who got along famously with Emily’s real estate agent husband. Being only three at the time Lydia didn’t even notice anything about the situation, she just knew that the little boy from next door was a worth hide and seek opponent. 

It had rained that afternoon so Lydia was preoccupied jumping up and down in every rain puddle she came across, her yellow rain jacket making her look like a little duck as she hopped down the street. Sara and Jessica must have gone down to the store and gotten caught in the storm because their hair was soaked as they walked up the street. Emily invited them over for game night that evening and the three of them started talking. Lydia paid no attention to the grown-up talk until she saw the two women hold each other’s hands, and the one lady kissing the other’s as they made a joke. She stared at them for a second and was disrupted when her mom bid them farewell and held onto Lydia’s hand once more and started walking towards the shops again. 

“Mama how come they hold hands like you and daddy?”

Emily smiled gently at her curious but blunt daughter, “Because they love each other like me and daddy do. That’s why David has two mommies.”

Lydia’s eyes widened, “There can be two mommies?”

“There are lots of kinds of family’s sweetie. Sometimes it’s a mommy and a daddy, sometimes it’s two mommies or two daddies, sometimes it’s just one.”

“Are they married?”

Not wanting to discuss the long and complex history of trying to get marriage equality to a kindergartener Emily told her they were. The look on her face when she told her that was as if a light bulb had lit up in her tiny head. Very matter of factly Lydia looked up, smiled widely at Emily, her smile missing a few teeth that had become the property of the tooth fairy, and announced, “I want to marry a girl too!”

“That’s okay with me,” Emily chuckled unsure if anything would ever come of the conversation or if it would be another one of the musings of a child like how last week Lydia wanted to be a bird. Emily couldn’t tell the future, but no matter how it went she knew she’d love Lydia no matter what. Emily slightly hoped that the couple next door would be there while Lydia was growing up so that if she was, Lydia would never have to grow up thinking it was something abnormal. Unfortunately the next year Jessica had been offered a lucrative position in California and the whole family moved away, within a few months Lydia had almost completely forgotten about the family next door and they were instead replaced with an equally nice elderly couple that Lydia would always associate to be her childhood neighbors. 

Lydia was a little older the second time Emily thought she knew. She was in the third grade making valentines for the Valentine’s Day party in school the next day, most the kids in her class would be receiving a paper card with a lollipop taped to it and a quick, messy scribble that was supposed to resemble Lydia’s signature. Only one card was neat looking, it was also the one on the packaging that Lydia had said was her favorite. It was a cartoon cat holding a heart that said: “Be my meowentine” and Lydia signed her name with her I dotted with a heart. Curious as to who this prized valentine was going to Emily glanced down at the name and didn’t recognize it from the mental list of kids Lydia was friends with. It was addressed to a girl named Chloe. Even the cards for the kids she was friends with didn’t look as nice as this one. Emily wondered if this new girl was suddenly Lydia’s best friend or if possibly Lydia had her first crush. Not wanting to embarrass her daughter she didn’t ask, but she could see the next day the disappointment in Lydia’s eyes when the card she didn’t even get a card from Chloe. 

Lydia was ten years old when gay marriage was legalized in the United States. She was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast with her parents when they all heard it on the morning news. Nobody really had a strong reaction. Charles said something along the lines of how it was about time it was made legal and Emily thought back to that lovely couple that lived next door to them in the years past, wondering if they were celebrating the great news, not that they were never a family but now it was official. The life they had been living was now accepted by a majority of the country. Emily looked over to an obvious Lydia and was thrilled that her daughter was allowed to grow up in a time where love is love. Relieved that if Lydia was she wouldn’t have to hide it, and if she wasn’t that she could be an ally and appreciate the beautiful and diverse world they had to pleasure to live in. 

Ever since she had started middle school Lydia had become really insecure and self-conscious, it was a hard change to see in her previously confident daughter. She was painfully aware of how cruel kids could be at that age. It’s such a confusing time in life that people often take their inner anguish out on other people. It doesn’t make it right but that’s a fact of adolescence. She wished she could give Lydia a skip button and just let her fast forward through the awkward years of middle school but she couldn’t. Lydia came home from school the one day musing about how pretty the one girl in her class was dressed,  how nice her smile was, how smart and funny she was, always making jokes when the teacher wasn’t listening. Charles, a well-meaning, but not intuned to the more sensitive topics in life simply gave Lydia a pitiful look and told her, “Aw honey you’re beautiful too, you don’t have to compare yourself to them.”

It was very possible that that was what Lydia was doing but the way she talked about the girl reminded her of herself at that age when she had a crush on the boy who sat in front of her in English class. Lydia didn’t say anything more on the matter, simply thanking her father for the compliment and finishing her dinner quickly. Emily gave Charles a stern look but it was clear that he didn’t know what he did to upset her, to be fair Emily didn’t know if that was what had upset Lydia either, she hoped that if what she thought was true was true that she would have established enough trust that Lydia would feel comfortable telling her. 

She didn’t make a habit of snooping on the things in Lydia’s room but one night when she was putting away laundry one of Lydia’s dresses had accidentally been washed with Charles’ shirts. Lydia was off to school that day and when Emily went into her room her laptop was still open and turned on, resting on her desk. She walked past and couldn’t help but notice the title of one of the tabs open. The Kinsey Scale Test. She didn’t click on the tab to see the results, those tests only tell you what you want to hear but it was confirmation that Lydia was indeed questioning it. Respectfully she didn’t bring it up, knowing that if she was ready she would bring it up herself. 

Emily didn’t want to leave. She wasn’t ready to die, she didn’t want to lose Charles or leave Lydia alone but it wasn’t like she had a choice in the matter. The cancer had metastasized to her spinal cord and she had a three percent chance to live the next six months. She wasn’t scared of dying, she wasn’t particularly religious, she didn’t care what happened next, but she was so afraid of what this would do to Lydia. She was so young, she needed a mother still. There was so much of her daughter’s life she was going to miss. She was never going to get to see Lydia start high school, or take her to buy a dress for her first dance, or help her work through her first broken heart. She’ll never get to see Lydia find what she’s passionate about, she’ll never help Lydia fill out college applications or watch her open acceptance letters. She’ll never see Lydia graduate and go to college, she won’t have to hold back tears when her baby girl moves out. She won’t get to meet the people Lydia wants to share her life with, or meet the person she marries, or the children she has if she wants then. She’s going to miss everything that happened in her daughter’s life and there was nothing she could do about it. All Emily ever wanted was for Lydia to be happy and to have a good life and now she’ll never get to know how it all turns out. 

She wanted so badly to focus on the now, she was still here right now and Lydia needed her but she couldn’t help but to get lost reminiscing on the past or lamenting on a future she’ll never have. Over the weeks and months leading up to the end, she couldn’t even leave the hospital, it was nothing but the same four white walls as they tried to treat the cancer just trying to give her more time. Charles and Lydia kept her company when they could but Emily could tell when it was all becoming too much for the fourteen-year-old. She had to deal with all of this on top of all the other things going on in the life of an eighth-grader. She didn’t go to school much during the last month, she was given extensions on all her work and told to just focus on family and though Lydia desperately wanted to be there all the time Emily and Charles would insist that she would sleep at home and spend at least one day a week being with kids her age. She knew Lydia was still being bullied, most people pulled back knowing about the whole cancer situation but some kids just used that even more. Emily frequently caved when Lydia would stall going home, insisting that she wasn’t tired but twenty minutes later she would be peacefully sleeping curled up on a hospital chair or snuggled up like a kitten at the foot of Emily’s bed. She didn’t know how many more nights she would get with Lydia, and even though she was fourteen Emily relished in the nights when her daughter would fall asleep in her embrace, all the stress and worry melting from her face as she slept. Emily’s thoughts drifting from memory to memory of Lydia growing up, and though she was so grown-up she could still see that little baby she cradled all those years ago. The toddler that would terrorize the house during the day but look like an angel in her crib. The little girl who would run off the school bus after school and play all night until she fell asleep in the crook of Emily’s arm when reading a bedtime story, using all the funny voices that made Lydia giggle. She wondered where all the years had gone, and when Lydia had grown up.  

There was something on Lydia’s mind, she could tell. She could see it in her eyes but she didn’t know what. There was so much going on in her life that it could have been anything, but whatever it was it was conflicting Lydia. It was a very noticeable change in her demeanor. She avoided certain topics, she got defensive when a well-meaning nurse mused about how any boy would be lucky to date her. Lydia was sitting with her in the hospital bed watching some sappy soap-opera on the hospital television, and when a lesbian couple kissed on-screen Lydia trained her eyes down on the floor, not like she was disgusted but like she was ashamed. 

Every once and a while she would go to talk but stop herself as if she was doubting what she wanted to say. Emily tried to assure her they could talk about anything but Lydia would just change the subject saying it wasn’t important. What was important to her was being there. Everyone was aware when the end was coming, they knew it would be soon but they didn’t know exactly when it was going to happen. The third week of December Emily took a turn for the worse, she was rushed into the intensive care unit and Charles was told to bring the family to say their goodbyes. 

She died on the Eighteenth of December. A day that forever would invoke nothing but grief and heartache in Lydia. A puzzle that would never be fully complete no matter how many pieces she added because something would always be missing. It had taken her a long time to be okay. It had literally taken her a demon and a near-death experience to give her a new lease on life and while she still missed her mother very dearly every day, she was able to go on with her life. Something that she had almost cut short twice because she was so blind with grief and hurt. She learned to be more comfortable with herself. Slowly she had told people the truth, beginning by telling herself the truth as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Telling her father had been hard but she felt stronger once she had, like she wasn’t so alone anymore. She had a variety of coming out stories from accidentally telling Delia, to the tearfully and serious conversation with the Maitlands, to the very casual statement told to Beetlejuice. She felt loved and supported, though she was still bullied and she had her heart broken she rebounded quickly. She met a girl she liked and after a while, she was proud to call Wendy her girlfriend. She was welcomed into the Blackwood family with open arms, and over time they two of them just got closer. The summer before her sophomore year the whole family took a trip to New York and went to Lydia’s first pride parade. She knew her community was large but she couldn’t help but to gasp in awe of just how many people there were like her, proud to be who they were. While the crowd could be overwhelming at times Lydia would always think fondly of the memory, and no matter how many parades she went to afterward that one would always be her favorite.  

There were hard times too. Every December was hard for Lydia, she would retreat into herself and unintentionally push people away. It took her time to learn to let people in and be there for her and she learned how to be there better for him. There were plenty of times where Lydia wished her mother had been there. In her junior year, she and Wendy had broken up. They had a silly argument that neither of them remembered but it lead to them being broken up for almost half a year before Lydia realized she didn’t want to lose her and asked her to prom. During first few weeks of the break-up, she wanted nothing more than to have her mother by her side eating ice cream and talking about their feelings. Barbara, Delia, and Beetlejuice were more than willing to fill the role, she appreciated it but it wasn’t the same.  She had her father save a seat for Emily at her graduation and she blew a kiss to the empty seat when she received her diploma. Lydia kept up with therapy over the years, going less frequently but she still touched base at least once a month but she learned skills to cope better. A task that once seemed impossible was now one of her favorite coping mechanisms, in the drawer of her dorm desk was a shoebox filled with letters for her mom that she had written whenever she needed to get something off her chest. Some were emotional and hard for her to write, others were her sharing good news, a once and a while some would simply be what she did that day. She never knew what to do with them, she knew nobody would ever read them but she couldn’t bring herself to throw them away. 

She beat herself up a lot about how she had never had to courage to tell her mother she was gay before she died. She knew her mom would have been accepting but at fourteen she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. There was so much happening during that time of her life that the lowest priority was coming out. She kept it a secret and it was a regret of her that haunted her for years. She would eventually come to terms with it and the fact that she couldn’t change the past.

Years and years had passed. She was now all grown up, buying a house in Connecticut with Wendy right next door to the place she called her home from the time she was fifteen. She had built a life for herself that she was proud of. Her unconventional family was a beautiful and chaotic mess and she added to the chaos by marrying Wendy and adding two children to their family. They adopted a two-year-old boy that, much to the dismay of Beetlejuice, came with the name Lawrence and they welcome a baby girl that Wendy and Lydia unanimously decided to name Emma. Lydia was never shy about telling her kids about her family, they were aware from a very young age that their one grandma was in the Netherworld and though they had a lot of questions about everyone else in the family their normal included Charles, Delia, Wendy’s parents and brothers, their Uncle BJ and the ghost-grandparents who nearly bawled when the met the kids for the first time. Their unique family definitely earned some concerned questions when Lawrence and Emma’s pre-school drawings included two ghosts and a demon. 

The children were six and four when Lydia finally thought they were ready. They packed up the car for the trip and drove an hour and a half back to New York City. They planned to do some sightseeing while they were there but most of their trip was welcomed with rain and thunderstorms. On the last day of the trip, they got the kids dressed, Lawrence in a red raincoat and Emma in a yellow polka-dot raincoat that made her look like a little duck when she jumped up and down in the puddles as they walked on the sidewalk. They arrived a the cemetery, Lydia’s memory drifting back to a dark time in her life where she felt so invisible and alone. She held tightly onto Wendy and her kids as they walked over to the spot. A grey colored tombstone with the words etched: “Emily Deetz. Devoted wife to Charles, Beloved mother to Lydia.”

Lydia gently placed a bouquet of red roses on top of the tombstone while she held back a tear. The rain had stopped before they got out of the car and the sun was peeking out from behind the trees illuminating the field in a golden-orange glow. Looking up at the sky Lydia pointed to her kids the rainbow in the distance. She took in a shaky breath, she had been waiting years to finally tell her. She thought she’d be more nervous, more emotional but she kissed the back of Wendy’s hand and said, “Hey mom, there are some people I want you to meet.”

[ladylynse]

Part IV of Down the Rabbit Hole for the lovely @lumanae​, even though they’re currently drowning the Merlin fandom. *grins* Sometimes distractions are needed, right?

Wirt had heard a lot of stories about college, but somehow, he still wasn’t prepared for one of his roommate’s crazy friends to smuggle a hatchet into their dorm room.

(Previous) Also on FF and the AO3.

-|-

Wirt knew Danny wasn’t in the washroom, but he stepped inside and looked in every remotely feasible spot anyway, including the medicine cabinet that sat above the toilet which would be hard pressed to hold a small child.

He just…. He didn’t know what else to do. There wasn’t anywhere else to go. It’s not like Danny could have crawled out the tiny window, and he definitely hadn’t slipped past Wirt and out into the hallway. It was like he’d gotten sucked into the same black hole as most of Wirt’s socks, except obviously that didn’t exist, but—

Wirt pulled out his phone and started to type a message to Jazz, but how could he tell her he’d lost her brother? He certainly couldn’t explain it. He had no idea where Danny was. Or how he’d gotten there, wherever there was.

Wirt half-hoped Danny would text Jazz and Jazz would text him, but he never heard anything, and he couldn’t find the words to say anything about this to Jazz. He’d find Danny first. Then, if Danny hadn’t already told Jazz, he could pretend this had never happened.

He could get a proper explanation from Toby after he figured out what the heck had happened to Danny.

Wirt locked the room behind him and set off at a quick walk, looking around and weaving past anyone he saw without slowing. Danny couldn’t have gone that far. If he had somehow slipped past him—

Maybe this was a prank. Danny liked pranks. And Jazz had as good as warned him not to leave Danny by himself.

Except Danny was gone, disappearing as easily and completely as the ghosts he had apparently grown up surrounded by, and Wirt couldn’t see a sign of him anywhere.

He did, however, find Wendy.

Sitting cross-legged under a tree in the shade.

Apparently doing nothing except enjoying a cup of coffee.

Wirt slowed to a stop in front of her. “Hey,” he said, though he already had her attention since she was looking up at him with a smile. “Have you, um, seen Jazz’s brother anywhere?”

“Danny? Never met him.” Wendy rose to her feet in one smooth movement. Wirt rather envied her gracefulness; he certainly couldn’t do that, at least not in the shape he was in now. “Jazz has a psych exam today, though. You won’t see her till it’s over.”

“No, I…know that. She’s out now, anyway, but still busy.” Probably. Maybe Danny had texted Jazz to get her to text him, and she just hadn’t because she was catching up with some other friends of hers after the exam. She had to have other friends, right? They could have ambushed her right after she’d texted him and Danny. “What about Toby? Have you seen him?”

“Should I have?”

Wirt bit his lip. “I just saw him and Claire.”

“Claire’s visiting?”

So Wendy didn’t know either. Not that that meant much. Claire’s visit might’ve been unexpected. Or maybe Toby had told both of them and they’d been too busy to listen? He could believe that of himself more than so Wendy, who had a surprisingly good memory. At least compared to him, who was hard pressed to remember what he’d had for lunch the day before. Or what day of the week it was. Or what he’d been doing five seconds before, when things got really crazy.

Wirt just nodded. “Yeah. She came to help with costumes for Toby’s play. Do you know when it is?”

Wendy raised her eyebrows. “Since when was Toby in a play?”

“He’s in drama….” Wirt didn’t add isn’t he? but he was pretty sure Wendy knew it was there.

“Uh huh.” Wendy sounded like she didn’t believe it, but what other explanation was there? If it was cosplay, Wirt definitely wasn’t familiar with the source material, and he couldn’t think of what else it could be. No one went around in a getup like that just for the heck of it. And it’s not like Toby would think he needed to lie about making a cosplay for something. He already knew Wirt thought he was weird and didn’t judge him for it. He thought that was funny.

For that matter, so did Wendy and Jazz.

It was one of the reasons Wirt was so convinced they were involved in some giant conspiracy to troll him. Because they’d kill themselves laughing over it. They’d find it hilarious, and they knew he’d be laughing in the end, too. Assuming he got to the end of whatever this was.

And assuming he could find Danny.

Seriously, how he could have lost Danny?

Maybe he was in on all of this, too. Maybe—

“Earth to Wirt,” Wendy said, waving a hand in front of his face. “Did you hear me?”

“Um…no? Sorry.”

“I wanted to know if Toby’s talked to you yet.”

“About what?” It couldn’t be the play if Wendy hadn’t heard of it.

Wendy rolled her eyes. “Please tell me you’re just playing being clueless or you will die if we reach an apocalyptic situation.”

“Uh…pretend I was living under a rock and fill me in?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Wendy muttered. Louder, “Something’s up. You know that, right?”

Was she finally admitting that they were playing a massive prank on him? Good. It had taken long enough. Wirt nodded, and Wendy relaxed. “Great. Then you’ll understand why I’m absolutely certain that Toby’s not actually in drama?”

Or not.

“Uh….”

“Seriously, this isn’t a game. College might not kill you, but there’s stuff out there that will if you’re not careful.”

The hatchet in his dorm room could technically kill him, but Wirt was pretty sure Wendy would just dismiss that if he brought it up. Or nag him about his nonexistent self-defence skills, since he hadn’t signed up for a class despite her not-so-subtle suggestions.

Wirt glanced around, but no one was close enough to overhear their conversation. That was probably Wendy’s plan. He met her eyes again, seeing no trace of a smile behind them. “You’re my friend,” she said, “and I don’t want to lose you.”

She might lose him as a friend if she kept on like this. He could only be expected to put up with so much, right? If she really believed this, maybe she needed to talk to someone. Someone who could actually help her. Which wouldn’t be him. He had zero training in that area. He’d think Jazz would be ideal if she weren’t encouraging this. Whatever this was.

“Okay, look,” Wirt said, trying to get a handle on this situation again, “if you want to be serious for a moment, why don’t you just tell me why you’re so wrapped up in all of this? Why you think I’m wrapped up in all of this?”

Anger and hurt flashed across Wendy’s face before she schooled her expression again, and Wirt knew she felt that was uncalled for. “Because I’m not stupid,” she said, her tone carefully even, “and because this isn’t my first rodeo. And because whatever you want to pretend, that Unknown of yours isn’t just a story. You wouldn’t care about all of this so much if it were, and I don’t need Jazz to tell me that.”

“You’re back on that again?”

Wendy frowned. “Fine. Keep pretending. But you can’t ignore the truth forever, Wirt. You have to know that. And even if you think it’s just to humour me, it’d be nice if you played along and prepared yourself for the day you can’t.” She pulled a small notepad out of her pocket and held it out. “Dipper transcribed some relevant spells. At least take a look at them before you throw it out.”

Wirt knew better than to ask if she was kidding. He pocketed the notepad without looking at it, and Wendy turned away without saying goodbye. He felt like a fool, but what was he supposed to do with that? If she was delusional, telling her the Unknown was real wasn’t going to help matters.

And if she wasn’t delusional….

He didn’t want to think about what it would mean if she wasn’t delusional.

He didn’t want to think that there might be more out there than what he’d faced in the Unknown, that that experience hadn’t been a fluke, that finding out Jazz had grown up hunting ghosts wasn’t going to be the strangest thing he discovered about his friends.

He didn’t want to lose the control he’d have if it turned out the Unknown was only a tiny piece in everything that was unknown.

And now he felt horrible for what he’d done to Wendy.

Sighing, Wirt pulled out his phone and dialled Toby’s number. If he could at least find out more about this play while he looked for Danny, it would prove that the world wasn’t going crazy.

XXXXXX

Toby didn’t answer.

Wirt actually walked into the drama building, poking his head into any room that didn’t have an ongoing class, and found nothing. He even tried looking around education, in case the rehearsals were in that building instead, and he couldn’t find so much as a poster advertising a play—or at least not one that would require fanciful armour.

Danny, of course, never turned up anywhere.

Wirt circled back and checked the food court, thinking Danny had probably found it and bought himself a snack, but no matter how he scanned the shifting crowd of people, he couldn’t convince himself that Danny was there.

Why hadn’t Jazz given him Danny’s number? That would have made finding him so much easier. He should have asked for it, but it hadn’t occurred to him that they’d get separated when he’d been asked to spend time with Danny.

Maybe this was just one of Danny’s practical jokes. Jazz had said he was a joker. Wirt couldn’t really think of any other way to explain his vanishing act.

Although, considering where he had disappeared from, Wirt wasn’t sure even being some kind of magician-in-training would explain Danny’s disappearance. It’s not like he happened to be in the one dorm room that had a secret passage hidden somewhere in the bathroom. There was no trick to it. And he couldn’t imagine how Danny had gotten past him, even though he must have.

Wirt couldn’t remember which building Jazz’s psych class was in, so he couldn’t see if Danny had gone to meet her there. Not that that would help him much, since Danny and Jazz would probably be long gone if they had met up, but he was getting desperate, and Jazz hadn’t texted him to ask why he’d ditched Danny—or whatever story Danny might’ve told her about what happened. He did check his dorm room one more time—in the vain hope that Danny would be hiding in there, maybe sitting on his bed with a big grin on his face, waiting for Wirt to come back and realize Danny had never left—and then went to Jazz’s. He rang the buzzer.

“Yes?”

Wendy. “Um, it’s me.”

“Danny’s not here, Wirt. Neither is Jazz. Do you still want to come up?”

“Uh, no, thanks.” He wasn’t ready to face her yet. He figured he’d read whatever Dipper counted as spells before talking to her again. Granted, knowing Wendy, she’d just do a phenomenal job of pretending the conversation had never happened, and he’d feel like even more of a fool.

“Good luck with the search, then.”

Now he really felt like an idiot. Wirt headed back to campus, not even sure where he should look next.

He walked through the food court again, standing on his tiptoes in the hopes of spying Danny among the shifting crowd of students, and eventually gave up. He checked his watch again, his stomach churning as he realized he’d been running around for over an hour. He should just phone Jazz and tell her to phone Danny and find out where he was. He could swing by and pick him up and then meet her. And then be done with this.

Of course, that would mean admitting he’d managed to lose her brother in the first place.

Hopefully, she’d just chalk this up to Danny’s love of practical jokes.

After more dithering, Wirt finally made the call. Jazz picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Jazz, um, I’m calling instead of texting because this is kinda an emergency? I might’ve, uh, lost your brother, and I don’t—”

She let out a sigh. “Don’t worry about it, Wirt. I’ll text him my location and he’ll find me. He has a bad habit of disappearing sometimes. And if he pulled this on you…. We should really talk. Meet me at the library.”

She hung up without waiting for an answer, not clarifying which library, but that was fine, because Wirt knew exactly which one she meant. And he didn’t plan to blow her off after what he’d done. Should he be flattered her brother felt it appropriate to pull a disappearing act on him? Did he only do it with family friends? She’d sounded exasperated enough that it really couldn’t be uncommon, but….

Jazz was at her favourite table in the library when Wirt arrived, the one off in one corner and half-hidden behind the shelves to the point that was hard to find if you didn’t know it was there. He slid into the chair opposite her, and she frowned at him as her eyes flicked over him. “Do you remember everything that happened? Can you tell me?”

That was…an odd first question. But this was Jazz, and she asked weird questions. And if Wirt tried to figure out why, he’d somehow wind up in a deeper hole than whichever one he was going to dig for himself anyway, so he decided to just go with it. “Yeah? We were in my dorm room. Surprised Toby and Claire— Did you know that she was in town? Or that he’s in a play?”

“My question first, please.”

Wirt blinked. “Um, right. Well, we surprised them, I guess. Toby must’ve cut class because Claire was in town to help him with costuming, and then they went to show everyone else in the group. And then Danny, uh, said he had to use the bathroom, except he didn’t come back out, and when I finally checked it, it was empty.”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “Of course it was,” she muttered. “Because that’s not at all suspicious.”

“Um.” She thought it was suspicious, too? What did that mean? “I, uh, never saw him leave, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t sneak by me. I mean. He must’ve. Because he wasn’t in there. And it’s not like he could go anywhere else from the bathroom.”

Jazz just nodded. “Well, I didn’t know Claire was in town, or that Toby was claiming to be in a play, but I suppose I should’ve guessed it earlier.”

“That he’s secretly a drama nut and didn’t want any of us to know?”

“No. That he might be the one I need to worry about more than you.”

Wirt raised his eyebrows. He knew Jazz was a worrywart, but that was ridiculous. “Are you kidding? He’s at least passing Wendy’s weird apocalypse classes with flying colours.”

“Which is what should’ve been my first clue.”

“Clue to what?”

“That he’s involved in something.” The answer came from behind Wirt, and he jumped. He caught a fleeting look of Jazz’s thoroughly unsurprised face as he twisted to look at Danny. How long had he been standing there? “Jazz, uh, we should talk. Not here.”

“It might have to be here, Danny. Wirt’s Toby’s roommate.”

“Uh….” Chances were Danny was right and he didn’t actually need to be here for whatever the impending conversation was going to be. Chances were—

“Yeah, but does he even believe in ghosts?”

—it would just make him feel like the only sane person in the entire world. Which he knew was an exaggeration. It just felt like an appropriate exaggeration.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Wirt burst out. Seriously, was Danny as crazy as Jazz? Okay, he probably was, but still. This obsession with ghosts was weird, even considering their parents studied it. And it’s not like Toby was involved with drugs or something bad. It was just a drama club or something like that. Wirt was planning on going to see the play, whenever it was, once he got the date and time and place out of Toby. To support his roommate.

He was really thinking he shouldn’t ask Jazz to join him. Maybe not even Wendy.

“Shh. Library, remember?” Jazz said as Danny sat down next to Wirt.

“I hate this,” Wirt muttered. He didn’t mean it, but was it too much to ask to have a couple of normal friends? He had a few acquaintances from various classes, but no one he hung out with beyond Toby and Wendy and now Jazz.

…Greg was right. He really needed to get out more. He got stuck in his own little world too often to make friends easily, and he didn’t want to think what it said about him if the only people you were friends with tended to be remotely like-minded. Becoming friends with Toby had been inevitable, and it was through his association with Toby that he’d wound up friends with Wendy and Jazz—almost without realizing it.

Except that Wendy really hadn’t given him a choice in the matter.

And he was pretty sure he still counted it as friendship now even if their first few interactions had seemed more like he’d been coerced into it.

“That’s a no, isn’t it?” Danny asked, looking between Wirt and Jazz. He rolled his eyes and turned back to his sister. “Why do you, of all people, think this is a good idea? You were pretty much skeptic of the year when we were growing up until I, uh, until Phantom started showing up regularly.”

Jazz just crossed her arms and stared at her brother.

Wirt didn’t know what that meant, but obviously Danny did. “C’mon, Jazz. He’s not overshadowed. I checked. I don’t think he’s…involved.”

Involved? In what? And what did Danny mean by overshadowed? How the heck did he check for that, whatever it was? When did he check for that?

“And Toby?”

Jazz should not be treating this like a normal conversation. It was not a normal conversation.

Danny shook his head. “Not a ghost thing. The hammer, the armour, whatever it is. That’s…something else.”

“I’ll have to check with Wendy and see if she knows anything about it,” Jazz murmured. Wirt decided against telling her that Wendy also said she hadn’t known anything about a play. Mostly because he didn’t want her to phone and invite Wendy to this conversation when it would mean explaining everything to Jazz about how he’d acted and she’d psychoanalyze him or something. As if this weren’t bad enough.

“But the girl—Claire, I guess—has a staff. Not like Freakshow’s, so don’t panic, okay?”

Wirt didn’t want to ask. Well, he did, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer, so he thought it best to keep his mouth shut. Why would Danny panic about the prop Claire had been holding for Toby’s play? It was just a prop. And he didn’t even know them.

“I caught her using it. It makes portals, Jazz. Into or through the Ghost Zone. I didn’t follow them because I wasn’t sure I’d make it back and I still can’t do that, but….” Danny shrugged. “I could check with Frostbite and Clockwork. Frostbite might have heard of it. Clockwork would know, but he might not tell me.”

“Check with Dora, too, if Frostbite doesn’t know anything.”

Fine, now Wirt was tempted to ask. “What you mean by portals?” Jazz had told him about the Ghost Zone, but a staff that was capable of making portals to the afterlife or whatever didn’t make sense.

Of course, neither did the fact that an entire town had wound up there.

Wirt really wished that had been a joke newspaper, but—

“Doorways,” Danny said flatly. “Holes in the fabric of reality. Exactly what you’re picturing.”

He shouldn’t have asked.

“Um, why do you think the staff does that, exactly?”

Danny stared at him. “What part of ‘I caught her using it’ did you not understand? I saw it with my own eyes. She’s either skipping into the Ghost Zone whenever she wants—risking Walker’s wrath and whoever else’s—or she’s taking a shortcut through it somehow, like a condensed version of the Infi-Map that she can actually control.”

Okay, he was going to pretend this conversation wasn’t completely insane. “How do you know it’s connected to the Ghost Zone?”

He expected one of them to say something along the lines of ‘what other dimensions do you know?’ or something that would make it very clear that they figured the Ghost Zone was it. Instead, Danny said, “I just know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I can feel it, okay?”

He could—? “That’s even less of an answer!”

“No, it’s not, and keep your voice down. I am not about to be kicked out of my favourite library.” Wirt groaned but held his tongue as Jazz asked, “You’re sure it’s the staff and not something else?”

Danny nodded as if that were the most normal question in the world. “I don’t know how she got her hands on it, but yeah. If I can get some of Mom and Dad’s tech to Tuck, he might even be able to make something that’ll pick up on where she’s been using it. We could figure this out that way.”

Right. So now Danny and Jazz were completely convinced that Toby’s friend Claire was some dimension hopper. Like it was normal for people to jump through dimensions.

This definitely explained why all his friends kept bringing up the Unknown. They really didn’t think it was just a story. But he’d sound like an idiot if he changed his story now, right? He could at least wait until they brought it up again. He didn’t have to volunteer this information right away. Especially not when Jazz’s brother was around—because even if he would clearly believe it, he didn’t need to know everything.

“How did you get past me in the dorm?” Wirt asked.

For once, Danny looked uncomfortable. He rubbed the back of his neck and slouched. “I just sneaked out when you weren’t looking,” he mumbled.

“I was still standing in the hallway when you went into the bathroom,” Wirt said, “and then I went into the room and closed the door and you weren’t….”

“I’m…good at illusions?”

It wasn’t even a good lie.

“I ducked around you when you weren’t looking. I used to do it to Jazz all the time before she left for college. It’s not a big deal.”

Wirt expected Jazz to chime in with support, but she didn’t.

He swallowed and looked at her. “The truth’s gonna sound like a story, isn’t it?”

“A story for another time,” she said by way of agreement.

He would’ve preferred silence. What the heck was really going on here? What was Toby involved in? What was Danny not saying? If the Ghost Zone and the Unknown were somehow connected, and he definitely didn’t know if they were, and if Claire and Toby could access it, why would they need armour? The Unknown might’ve had one room schoolhouses and paddle steamers and stuff, but it wasn’t so far off their own time that anyone required medieval armour.

Not that Wirt actually knew if it was supposed to be medieval armour.

Not that he was completely abandoning the idea that Toby was really in a play, either. Because he certainly could be. That would make so much more sense than all of this. He couldn’t believe he was going along with this. He shouldn’t be. And yet even Wendy had said—

Something’s up. You know that, right? This isn’t a game.

You can’t ignore the truth forever.

“I don’t know if Wendy knows anything about Toby and Claire,” Wirt said slowly, “but she definitely knows something.”

This time, Jazz read something in Danny’s expression that Wirt missed and shook her head. “She’s not overshadowed. I’m confident in that much or I would’ve had you check her out, too.”

Wait.

Wirt pointed at Danny. “Is that why you wanted me to babysit him?”

“You weren’t babysitting,” Jazz said at the same time Danny exclaimed, “I don’t need a babysitter!”

“So you’re not denying that the entire reason you wanted me to hang out with him all day was so he could check me out for whatever this overshadowing thing is?”

“Wirt—”

“What did you even do?”

“Library,” Jazz hissed, and Wirt rolled his eyes.

“Just tell me the truth! Then I’ll be quiet.”

“You want the truth?” Danny asked. “When you aren’t even telling them the truth?”

“Seriously? Is there anyone you haven’t told about that stupid assignment?”

Jazz narrowed her eyes. “Yet you’re the one who keeps mentioning it, Wirt. Not me.”

Right. He’d walked into that, hadn’t he? Fine. “You want to pretend it’s not just an assignment? Then let’s pretend it’s not just assignment. Let’s pretend it’s real. I went to the Unknown with my brother. It’s another dimension. I faced demons and made friends and nearly died trying to get home. Your turn.”

Jazz’s expression didn’t change. Danny looked around, maybe to see if anyone was looking their way after his earlier outburst. Jazz’s favourite little nook was fairly secluded, but there were tables nearby, equally as hidden, and the seclusion was more artificial than anything else. Still, apparently they hadn’t disturbed anyone, since Danny was grinning when he faced Wirt again. “I’m the tragic victim of a lab accident,” he said. “Safety wasn’t exactly our parents’ highest priority, but like I said, it was an accident.”

Wirt raised his eyebrows. “So?”

“So that’s how I got past you earlier. And that’s how come I know you’re not overshadowed. And that Claire’s staff has ties to the Ghost Zone.”

Wirt glanced at Jazz, but her face betrayed nothing. Danny was a lot easier to read. He was having fun with this. There was a definite note of sarcasm in his tone. But he also looked perfectly sincere, even though Wirt had no idea how a lab accident was supposed to explain all that. “So you, what, burned yourself on a Bunsen burner? Accidentally smashed a couple of test tubes of chemicals and stepped on the glass? And that made you the annoying prankster you clearly are?” He could think of several more choice words to call Jazz’s brother, but it was safer to stick with Jazz’s words. If Toby really was wrapped up in something, Wirt didn’t intend to burn all his bridges before he could help his friend.

Jazz snorted.

Danny’s grin widened. “Not exactly,” he said.

And then he disappeared.

He just…disappeared.

Wirt was staring at him, and then he was just gone. He didn’t move. There was no distraction to catch Wirt’s attention while he ducked under the table or hid somewhere in the stacks. He was just there. And then he wasn’t. And this was a bloody library; it didn’t have mirrors or whatever else would’ve been needed to make an illusion. And Danny had pulled out the chair to sit down, so it wasn’t some kind of high-tech hologram, and—

“I’ll call Wendy,” Jazz said, “and warn her that we’re going to reconvene at our place. You can think of exactly what you’re going to say as we walk over.”

-|-

(see more fics | next)