#oh my god I was today years old when I realized what someone meant when they said 'that's how we get evil keith' in a rb of one of my posts

[telomirage]

"but hey, it's the finale. it's time to roll those dice"

"it is time to roll those dice, evil keith" - friends at the table: palisade without context

[arjwrites]

Times You Threatened to Kill Dean Winchester- Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: A brief account of all the times you wanted to kill a certain hunter.

Warnings: Language, character death, thoughts of suicide, references to sex, threats... A good mix of fluff and angst! Word Count: 2.3k A/N: This one was a labor of love! I have a few other fics in the works as per a few requests I have received, but this one was speaking to me tonight, so I sat down to write it! Please enjoy- in the meantime, your requests are coming soon! <3

-

“Dean Winchester, I could just KILL you!” 

You were extremely familiar with the Winchester boys’ prank wars by now. You had been witness to a few different cycles of this behavior over the many years you had known them- in fact, if someone were to dig through the old cardboard box you kept hidden in the spare room at Bobby’s, they’d probably find a few faded teenage pictures of a bald Sam after Dean snuck Nair into his shampoo, or a sleeping Dean with some sharpie-d enhancements adorning his face. But up until now, you had always kept to the sidelines. Time and time again, you claimed Switzerland to avoid their shenanigans, because it always got way too out of hand.

But today, when you climbed out of bed, still groggy with sleep, stepping into the bathroom of your shared motel room, an entire bucket’s worth of ice water that had been balanced atop the door came crashing down on you. The sensation sent a shockwave through your whole body, and from the noise that escaped your lips, you would’ve thought you had been shot. And to add insult to injury, the bucket itself smacked against your head on its way down. 

So to start your day, you were soaking wet, freezing, pissed off, and nursing a swelling bump atop your head. A blind rage filled your body. You knew it had to have been Dean, it was his turn to retaliate after Sam had messed with the stereo in the Impala so that it only played Barbie Girl. It had been a long, silent ride home after last night’s hunt. 

“Dean Winchester, you are a dead man!” The words came bursting out of you as you stormed your way out of the bathroom.

“What did I- Oh my GOD. That wasn’t for you.” Dean’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his head. He knew he had fucked up. 

The first thing to go flying across the room was the bucket, which nailed Dean in the chest with an anticlimactic thud. You followed close behind it. At full speed, you sprinted into Dean, knocking him back onto the bed behind him.

“Get off me! You’re soaking wet!” Dean protested, throwing his arms between you two in an effort to shield himself. 

“Yeah, how do you like it?” You weren’t going to back down. 

So that is how you ended up wrestling with Dean. You put up a surprisingly good fight for a lot longer than you expected, able to overpower him via sheer force of will. Once Dean got his bearings, though, he flipped you over, hovering on top of you and pinning you to the bed by your wrists. You held an intense eye contact for a brief moment while you each caught your breath. In doing so, you came to the mutual realization that this was ridiculous. You didn’t know who cracked the smile first, but as Dean’s grew, so did yours, until you were grinning like idiots and erupting into laughter.

“You know, this isn’t what I meant when I said I wanted you wet and in my bed,” Dean raised his eyebrows and tossed you a sly wink.

“Yup, I’m doing it. I am killing you.” 

-

“Dean I swear to God, if you keep me cooped up in this motel room for one more minute I am going to lose my mind.” 

“Would you relax? Sam and I are almost back at the witch’s house. We’ll gank her, it’ll reverse the spell, you’ll be right as rain.”

“God I hope so. This is driving me up the wall. I will never watch another second of daytime TV after this.” With the press of a button, you hung up the phone and tossed it across the room onto the bed. This was getting seriously old.

While taking on a vengeful spirit case, you and the Winchesters had run into a particularly pesky witch. Long story short, she cast a spell at you, and none of you could figure out what it was. It was driving you crazy, and what was driving you crazier was that the boys had locked you in the motel room for two days while they tracked the witch back down. All around town, all over the area, until they finally caught her trail heading back to her own house. Where they had started.

The problem was, you felt fine. You really didn’t think there was anything wrong with you. You wanted to get out there and help them, do some research, go to the damn grocery store, literally anything. But Sam and Dean had insisted that the safest thing for you to do was to stay behind. We don’t know what she did to you, Y/N. It could be dangerous for you to leave. It’s better if you stay here and do absolutely nothing. It made sense, to an extent, you just weren’t very happy about it. 

After a few hours and several more episodes of the most mind-numbing daytime talk shows you could imagine, you heard the sound of keys jingling and the motel door creeping open. In came Dean, wearing a strange expression on his face. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought it was fear.

“So? Ding dong, the witch is dead, I don’t have to blow my brains out?” You asked, more than ready to be done with the whole fiasco.

“Um.” Dean was avoiding eye contact. His hands slipped into his pocket and he sucked in a long, sharp breath.

“Dean.” 

“So, uh, maybe…” He slipped a hand across his mouth, stalling his words. “Look, you might have to stick around here for one more day. We uh, think she might be in the town over, but we kind of lost her trail.”

On the car ride back to the motel, Dean had prepared for you to react by yelling, screaming, hitting, anything to unleash the anger he knew was coming. In fact, that was why Sam had waited in the car- to give him a little time to break the news. But in front of Dean was something much, much scarier. Your jaw was clenched, your gaze was distant, and your eyes narrowed. You were just… sitting there. The silence lasted for what felt like ages. It was enough to send the man spiraling. Finally, you looked up.

“Dean?” 

“... Yes?”

“You better kill that witch tomorrow before I kill you.”

“Duly noted.”

- 

Losing Sam had been just about the worst thing that could have ever happened to any of you. Watching him fall to his knees after Jake backstabbed him, Dean cradling him as the life finally slipped from his body… It brought you to tears just thinking about it. You had loved Sam like a little brother. But as much as it tore you up inside, his death had happened. So goes the life of a hunter. It was time to let Sam rest. 

Dean, however, had still refused to make peace with the loss of his brother. It had been several days and Sam’s lifeless body was still laying out on a mattress. Dean just couldn’t let go. You and Bobby had begged him to let you lay Sam to rest, but he simply wasn’t having it. Dean was angry, defensive, and hurt, far deeper than you had ever seen. After conferring privately with each other, you and Bobby figured maybe it would be best to give him a little time alone with Sam, for closure’s sake. 

So a day later when Sam Winchester, live and in the flesh, waltzed into the room to thank you and Bobby for patching up his wound without so much as a second thought, your heart dropped like a rock. The feeling that washed over you was worse than any grief you had felt this past week. Of course, it was amazing to have Sam back- it felt like a miracle. But miracles don’t just happen, especially not to Winchesters. And when you looked to Dean, he refused to meet your eyes.

Not wanting to alert Sam of the situation, you made an excuse to get Dean to follow you outside. You trudged as far as you could in silence, you not daring to look in his direction, until you knew you were out of earshot from the house. 

“What did you do, Dean?” Your back was still turned, and your voice was hardly a whisper. You were surprised Dean could hear you at all.

“Y/N-”

“What did you DO? How long did they give you?” The question ripped from your chest, but you weren’t sure you were ready to hear the answer. 

“A year.” 

One year. You dropped to the ground. The gravel dug into your skin, but all your senses were numbed with hurt. You wanted to ask what made him think he could do this- to Bobby, to Sammy, to you? But when you opened your mouth to speak, the ache that resonated through your chest stifled the words.

Dean slid down next to you in silence. He wrapped a single arm around you, and you leaned your head into him. All you could do was cry silent, heavy tears. For what felt like hours, there was nothing you could say. The pit in your stomach swirled back and forth from anger to despair to fear, culminating in a blinding nausea. You looked up at Dean, who simply stared straight ahead. There was a staggering coldness in his eyes that drove the knife further into your core.  

“God damn it Dean Winchester, I could just kill you myself, right now.” 

“You’ll have to get in line, sweetheart.” 

-

If you thought a few days without Sam had been bad, four whole months without Dean was your own personal hell. After Dean’s time was up, you couldn’t bear to be around anyone who reminded you of him. You hadn't spoken to Bobby or Sam or any other hunters- any other people, for that matter. You had practically dug yourself a grave, isolated from the world around you, lost and in the dark. 

This was the worst hurt you had ever felt in your life. Four months later and the wound in your heart was just as fresh as the day it arrived there. Every time it began to heal, one wrong move and it started aching, throbbing, bleeding again. But at this point, the pain was all you had left of Dean. So you let it bleed. 

The knock on the motel room door did nothing to stir you from your place in bed. It had been days, maybe a week, since you had risen for anything but your basic needs. You had called the front desk to extend your stay multiple times, running up a scammed credit card Dean had probably given to you at some point. There was nowhere else for you to go, so you laid down weary roots right here. 

The knock persisted but you remained still. It could’ve been the police, the president, or the pope and you couldn’t have cared any less. Go away. There was a clanging noise followed by the shifting of the lock’s mechanisms. Whoever it was, they were breaking into your room. A few months ago, you would’ve jumped into action, but all of your hunter self-preservation instincts were long gone. Whoever it was could come in and take whatever they wanted and shoot you dead in the process. Maybe they’d be doing you a favor. 

You rolled over in bed as the door creaked open, prepared to lay eyes on whoever was here to bring your demise. However, you were met with the one face that could have coaxed you out of the bed. The face you hadn’t seen in four months. The look in his eyes teemed with love and longing, which made your stomach churn. 

“This is a real sick joke.”

“No, Y/N, it’s-” 

For the first time since before Dean’s death, you snapped into hunter-mode, rising to your feet and snatching holy water and a knife from the bag under your bed in the process. It was a little slow, a little clumsy, and clearly a bit out of practice.

“You know, I was about to let whoever you were come right in and kill me. What reason do I have to stick around anymore? But this- this is just sick.” You laughed- your first laugh in months, and yet nothing was funny. 

“It’s me, Y/N, I-”

“No. I’m going to kill you now.” And you lunged, splashing holy water with one hand and thrusting the knife with the other. 

When Dean caught your hand before the knife could strike him, twisting your arm to defend himself from your lackluster attack, it took you longer than it should have to realize that the holy water hadn’t fazed him. Before it registered, you struggled against his grasp, but months of malnutrition and stagnant muscles had left you weak. You cried out as you fought, before fully dissolving into tears and dropping the knife in a mix of defeat and acceptance. Dean placed two heavy hands on your shoulders as if to ground you back in the moment.

“It’s me. I swear.” The beads of holy water that rolled off his face paralleled the tears that rolled off yours. Your hand reached up to wipe a droplet away- partially out of habit, partially to test that he was real, that he wouldn’t disappear at your touch. He didn’t. Instead, both his hands planted on your face, matching your movement. 

“Oh, Dean.” That was the only way you could express it. Dean. Here, real, standing in front of you, and not a demon. Just pure Dean. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispered, and it felt like home. He pulled you into a gentle hug, as if he harbored the same fear as you- that you may disappear beneath his very touch. But you were real, and so was he. You wouldn’t disappear, and neither would he. Dean was back, and because of that, you were back too.

“Good thing you didn’t kill me, right?” 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 407: Wait Why Are You Running Away

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan figured out how to control his quirk upgrade and was totally chill and normal about it. Definitely not terrifying at all. He actually spent the entire chapter smiling and laughing like the wholesome little boy he is. I don’t know why Kid For One is so freaked out about it. He even politely introduced himself using his childhood nickname. Clearly he just wants to be friends with you, KFO!

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “sorry to keep you waiting, here’s the AFO and Yoichi flashback you ordered at long last” and proceeds to serve a nightmarish stew of HUMAN MISERY and RATS and STABBING and CARNAGE and SO MUCH MURDER and THE SINGLE MOST FUCKED-UP CASE OF CODEPENDENCY ANYONE HAS EVER WRITTEN. I was not even remotely prepared for any of this, and if anyone else claims that they were, I will call you a liar to your face. If this chapter had a mouth it would scream. Or just sob, ceaselessly and uncontrollably. I’m really glad Horikoshi is on break next week because that man needs to take a fucking nap. My god.

okay WOW

anyone else read the first two words and just immediately say to themselves, “oh okay, so it’s gonna be one of those chapters”? I mean, I guess we were due for a darker chapter after last week’s Kacchan Comedy Tour. but idk, I just wasn’t expecting “homeless sick prostitute with a drinking problem” levels of dark

AND SHE’S PREGNANT?!

what exactly is this manga rated again? doesn’t this backstory seem just a little bit raw for the impressionable kiddos??

has anyone actually checked in on Horikoshi recently? you know, just to make sure he is okay??

what a fun and wholesome manga this is

the lil baby arm covered in blood with the AFO hole on the palm. lying next to the dead mom hand. what an image to sear into our minds. I guess it’s been a while since he killed any dogs. gotta keep us on our toes somehow

also wasn’t expecting AFO and Yoichi to be twins! that puts an interesting spin on their relationship, because it’s usually a closer bond than even regular siblings. especially with all of that delightful shared trauma from a young age!!

yes, exactly

ohhhh this chapter is gonna hurt me, isn’t it. okay. ooooooookay. let’s do this

OH I’M SORRY, THERE’S MORE?!

Horikoshi my dude. you do realize that their mom dying in childbirth and the two of them just barely surviving and growing up as street orphans would have already been MORE than tragic enough, backstory-wise. you did not have to turn this into a freaking horror show with RATS TRYING TO EAT THEIR NEWBORN SELVES jesus christ

and THAT’S where you chose to put a one year timeskip?!

what the fuck am I reading here, you guys. no please tell me, I am actually desperate to understand

so the narrator is saying that some of the quirks manifested later in life, in “pubescent and pre-pubescent stages”, which is interesting because it’s the first time I can recall hearing about someone actually manifesting a quirk that late. maybe Deku’s old OFA cover story was more plausible than I realized

anyway so eventually it occurred to everyone that they should maybe freaking study this shit, idk. and eventually the researchers concluded that the superpowers came from a new gene that apparently isn’t human. and upon hearing that, society apparently lost its freaking mind. which is fascinating to me because it implies that the turning point wasn’t actually the superpowers themselves, but the realization of what it meant

like, so they were apparently fine with it when they thought it was a “mysterious disease”, but somehow it hit different when they learned it wasn’t actually a sickness at all, but instead the Next Step in Evolution. and it became an “us vs them” thing, as opposed to a “we have to cure these poor people” thing. damn

anyway so now Japan is a dystopia and we’re cutting to a big crowd of merc-looking dudes who are getting ready to attack some “meta freaks”, how lovely

but who is this figure in the shadows

I ask politely, as if it wasn’t already beyond obvious that this is AFO about to wreck some people’s shit

ohhhhh my god lmao

hopefully Katsuki and Deku can take the present day AFO out before he winds up looking like this. because this little fella is clearly demonic and idk if anyone can stop him

you all don’t understand. you need to run the fuck away right now

oh shit it’s already too late for them

it’s too late for any of us. it’s over. it’s all fucking over

((((；゜Д゜)))

AFO I am putting the manga down. I am backing away slowly with my hands in the air. I mean you no harm. please for the love of god have mercy

holy

“you see, we told you he wasn’t human” okay Scientific Research Group, you know what?? you win this round I guess

“HE WAS LITERALLY EVIL FROM BIRTH” HORIKOSHI SERIOUSLY ARE YOU OKAY??

HE WAS BORN AN ARROGANT BABY is literally the most terrifying sentence I have ever read

what the entire fuck

it’s a gorgeous sunny mid-November afternoon outside my window. but no matter how hard it tries, the light cannot reach this place

what kind of moron would throw a can of soda at him. officially the stupidest person we have ever seen in this manga

OH MY GOD OF COURSE IT’S HIM LMAO

(ETA: how come baby Yoichi has clothes that fit him perfectly but baby AFO is just stomping around wearing a tablecloth.)

BABY YOICHI. OH MY GOD. HOW THE HELL DID YOU GROW UP TO BE SANE AND KIND AND GOOD. THAT’S MY QUESTION THAT I NEED ANSWERED RIGHT NOW. YOU ARE LITERALLY A MIRACLE. YOU ARE AN IMPOSSIBILITY, DO YOU KNOW THAT

small and weak, but also so, so cute. all of the cuteness genes went straight to him. no wonder AFO was jealous

(ETA: just want to press pause for a second to speculate about what type of twins AFO and Yoichi are, since it has some relevance to the story, and especially to the OFA/AFO quirk lore. so! at first glance the two of them would appear to be fraternal twins, just based on the fact that they have very different appearances, and also the fact that Yoichi doesn’t have the AFO quirk – no holes in his hands, etc. identical twins are born from the same fertilized egg, so in theory they would both have the same sequence of DNA, which means Yoichi would have had the same quirk as AFO. but that doesn’t appear to be the case. so all of that points to them being fraternal, not identical.

on the other hand, there is one piece of evidence in this chapter that does support them being identical twins, and that’s the fact that per the narration, AFO absorbed most of the nutrients from their mother. a few minutes of google fu informed me that this condition is relatively rare, and only happens in cases where two twins share a placenta, which typically is only the case for identical twins. HOWEVER, for what it’s worth, there have also been rare instances where two fraternal twin placentas fuse together and become a single placenta. AND this apparently also increases the chances of one of the twins gaining more of the nutrients and causing the other twin to have a lower birth weight.

so based on the evidence here, my conclusion is that the two of them are most likely fraternal twins with a case of placental fusion. besides, you can’t tell me that stealing his baby brother’s placenta while the two of them are literally still in the womb doesn’t sound like exactly the type of BS that fetus!AFO would pull, lol.)

HEY!?!

okay?!?!?! well to be fair he did throw that soda at him

oh my god this is so fucked up. in like the best and worst way possible

I genuinely couldn’t ask for a better AFO backstory. it’s so incredibly twisted, and you actually do feel sorry for him. or at least I do. but it’s also beyond clear that this kid was FUCKED UP BEYOND ALL REASON right from the get go. zero goodness in him. literally doesn’t see other people as people. sees them as possessions only. things to rule over. not other thinking, feeling human beings. and that includes his own little brother

but. even if it’s not actually what I would call love, there’s still... attachment, there. it’s the closest he can get to actually caring about someone. guh. just, somehow they have both managed to humanize him, and at the same time made him less human than ever. this manga, man. this fucking manga, though

lmao and here we go. Captain Hero

you know, all those times that I made fun of AFO for not knowing how to read, I never suspected that the twist in his backstory would be that he LITERALLY DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO READ dfksjdlfkjslkdf

but seriously though. because Yoichi appears to be self-taught, and I can’t see AFO having the patience for that, and CLEARLY no one else was around to teach him, sooooo...

oh my goodness it’s actually getting wholesome up in here

what a good fucking boy. poor AFO. fuck me, I can’t help it. it’s not your fault you’re the world’s greatest monster you poor bastard

now we’re cutting to THREE YEARS LATER. okay

is he going to declare war on the glowing baby

typical teenager concerned about nothing but likes and view counts. AFO you would be so much happier if you stopped worrying about all of that and just focused on your own growth

oh, lol. well that was quick

(ETA: r.i.p. Damien.)

“this guy had more instagram followers than me. so I killed him” honey. sweetie pie. you need therapy

omfg

all this time I was wondering who AFO’s middle school lit teacher was who had failed so spectacularly at teaching him reading comprehension. and it was YOICHI ALL ALONG. omg

“and, presumably, that’s how it always was and always will be.” dude. can you imagine listening to AFO’s oral book report on A Tale of Two Cities. “ahem. it was the Best of Times. the end” buddy noooooooo

it was at that moment when Yoichi knew, etc. etc.

oh my GOD I scrolled down to the next panel right after this one and I just IMMEDIATELY DIED LAUGHING

“WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID” ffffffffffffffff I fucking can’t omfg

NOW THIS HUSSY IS STEALING HIS BROTHER AWAY FROM HIM NOOOOOOO

HE’S HIS!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!! THAT’S NOT ALLOWED!!!

oh my god the hands. so wait, is this just the standard symbolic BnHA handholding, or are there More Levels To This. when exactly did Yoichi pass OFA on to Kudou. like is that why the sudden close-up and all that? omg

WHAT!!!!

OH THAT’S THE END, HUH? THAT’S THE END RIGHT THERE, AND THAT’S JUST HOW IT IS. I SEE. OKAY THEN. EXCUSE ME WHILE I PUT MY LAPTOP DOWN AND GO INTO THE NEXT ROOM AND SCREAM INTO A PILLOW

oh my god. and break next week too. this is what you guys have been dealing with this entire time huh. I understand your feelings now. godfuckingdammit lmao

[leclerqueensainz]

A Family of Three (C.L 16) - Part.I- Discoveries, Reunions, and Surprises

Paring: Charles Leclerc X OC!Marie Anderson

Synopsis: Charles and Marie ended any chance of a relationship years ago. They just didn't expect to have to share custody of a child after the death of their best friend.

⚠️ Warnings: Mention of death and murder, swearing, Charles being a little aggressive in his reactions, mention of sex and drug use. (This chapter may contain triggers!) (+16)

**In this story, Jules Bianchi died in 2019, not 2015, which changes some facts in the careers of the drivers.

A.N: Hello! How are you doing? After a long time, I finally brought Part 1 translated into English! Remembering that English is not my first language, so there may be some mistakes! I tried my best!

Feedback is always welcome. Let me know if you liked it!

Word Count: 7.882

Read the prologue here!

🇮🇹 🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹🇮🇹

January 15th, 2023 - Milan, Italy

"Good morning, Marcella!" I greet my secretary as I enter the office. "Any news for me?" I ask the blonde girl who is sitting with her eyes fixed on the computer in front of her.

"Good morning, Marie! And...HA! I did it!" Marcella suddenly jumps, startling me. "I'm sorry! It's just that I managed to schedule the meeting with Fred Lacroix for next week." She says, trying to compose herself, and I smile."

"That's great! You're amazing," I say, leaning over next to her at the table and taking a peek at her computer. "Do you think he'll be in a good mood? He's not exactly known for being pleasant when it comes to selling and buying his art," I ask and Marcella just shrugs.

"I don't know, and honestly, I don't worry about it," she says, and I can see a smug smile spread across her face. "Either way, we're awesome! We always get what we want," she finishes, and I laugh at her enthusiasm. 

I agree with Marcella. We are awesome and always get what we want when it comes to work.

After Jules died, I moved from Monaco to Italy. I felt like I needed to leave it all behind, even if it meant burying a part of who I was with my past. I needed a fresh start, and I closed my eyes to my old life. I had nothing left in Monaco. Nothing held me back or was even worth staying for.

I needed time and a new life, and that's exactly what I found when I came to Italy, where I was able to enroll in arts just in time to continue the school year. And a year and a half later, I graduated and started interning at one of the best galleries in Milan. Shortly after that, I realized I had a lot of potential for curating and dedicated myself to the field, of which today I am still a part, with the highest success rate in recruiting and selling new artists.

Today, I can say that my life is more than comfortable, and I spend so much of my day occupied with work that I hardly have time to think about everything I left behind a few years ago.

"Ah!" Marcella screams and catches me off guard, making me take a few steps back.

"Oh my god, Marcella! You're going to kill me, girl!" I say and put my hand on my chest, feeling my heart skipping like crazy.

"Sorry! I just remembered you got a letter this morning," she says, and I swear my confusion is written all over my face. "I mean, you didn't really get it, it's more like 'they passed the envelope under the door while we were closed, and I stepped on it when I got here'," she says and pulls out a crumpled white envelope with a half footprint on it. "I tried to clean it up, but as you can see, it didn't go very well. Seriously, someone should clean the streets of Milan more," she says and hands me the envelope.

I examine the envelope to find the sender, but I only find "Marie Anderson" written in delicate handwriting.

"There's no sender. That's strange." I say and Marcella nods.

"I thought it was kind of creepy too. I mean, who still sends letters In 2023? Isn't it easier to send a message on Insta? Or like, an email?" I nod my head and shrug.

"Well, let it be," I say and start walking towards my office. "Please let anyone who wants to speak to me know to leave a message. And that includes my mom, okay?" I say and Marcella nods. "Great, thanks," I say, entering my office and closing the door behind me.

I throw my bag on the desk and sit in my chair. I analyze the envelope in my hand again and for a moment, I feel a strange sensation as I stare at it.

"Okay, let's end the suspense, Marie," I say to myself and I grab a staple remover from the pencil holder, passing it over the glued part of the envelope.

Opening the envelope, I take out a sheet of paper with the same handwriting as the envelope, and two photos of a little boy with dark hair and eyes who I swear I've never seen before, but who somehow seems very familiar to me. I turn over the photos to see if there's anything written on the back.

"Vincenzo. 24/12/2021" 

Was written in one of the photos. The little boy was sitting next to what looked like a Christmas tree. I took a look at the next photograph, where the same boy, who seemed a bit older, was sitting on a mat surrounded by toys. "Vincenzo. 19/12/2022."

Feeling even more confused and with a strange sensation spreading through my chest, I picked up the letter I had left aside on the table and began to read it.

France, January 2nd, 2023.

Marie,

I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've thought about how I would write to you. You don't know me, and to be honest, I don't think anyone in his circle of friends and family has even heard of me.

My name is Cecilia, and that's all you need to know about me right now, aside from what I'm about to write to you next: I was engaged to Jules Bianchi.

I know this is strange and perhaps even unbelievable, but it's true. Jules and I had a brief but passionate love story. I loved Jules, and I can say that he loved me too.

Two days before his death, I found out that I was pregnant. I gave birth to Vincenzo on December 24th, 2019. He was a healthy and strong little boy, very similar to Jules.

I loved him from the moment I found out he was growing inside me. The result of something so pure and beautiful, from my relationship with Jules.

I know it's a lot for you to process right now, but so that you can know that I'm telling you the truth, there are two photos of Vincenzo. I want you to look at them and see Jules, just as I do every time I look at my son.

"I've been wanting to write to you for a long time. Jules saw you as a sister. I'm sorry I hid this from you and his family too, but I was so afraid. Afraid of rejection, of being seen as a liar. I couldn't go through any of that. I only had Jules, and after he left me, there was no one else I could trust, so I've been raising Vincenzo alone until now, but I don't think I can do it anymore. Vincenzo has a family besides me. And I need him to grow up knowing that he is loved.

I promise I to explain everything you need to know. Please meet me at the café where you used to meet every time you came together to Nice. January 18th at 4 pm.

- Cecilia.

My hands tremble as I put the letter back on the table.

What the hell is this? Is this some kind of sick joke?

I take the two photos back in my hands and stare at them, now realizing why I found that boy so familiar. It was Jules. That boy is the spitting image of Jules.

But how is this even possible? Why didn't Jules tell us he had someone? That's not like him. Jules was always an open book to us. He told us everything, just as we did with him. He wouldn't hide this from us...would he?

With my head swimming with questions and my heart heavy as lead, I found myself shouting Marcella's name, and less than a minute later, her short locks appeared through the door.

My hands tremble as I put the letter back on the table.

What the hell is this? Is this some kind of sick joke?

I take the two photos back in my hands and stare at them, now realizing why I found that boy so familiar. It was Jules. That boy is the spitting image of Jules.

But how is this even possible? Why didn't Jules tell us he had someone? That's not like him. Jules was always an open book to us. He told us everything, just as we did with him. He wouldn't hide this from us...would he?

With my head swimming with questions and my heart heavy as lead, I found myself shouting Marcella's name, and less than a minute later, her short locks appeared through the door.

"Yes?" She asks before looking at me for a moment and entering my office complete with a worried expression. "Are you okay, Marie?" She says kneeling by my side.

"Book a flight for tomorrow morning. I need to go to France."

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January 18th, 2023. - Nice, France.

I stare again at the clock hanging on the wall above the counter of the small café. 3:45 PM.

15 minutes. Just 15 minutes until I could find out who Cecilia was and why she decided to contact me now, after all this time. And why me? Yes, Jules, Charles, and I were always very close despite the age difference. But why reach out to me? If she intended to introduce the boy to Jules' family, why didn't she contact Christine or Philippe?

I hadn't seen Jules' family in a long time, we didn't even exchange messages. I left them behind when I decided to move on to Italy. They were buried with my past in Monaco.

The bell on the entrance door rings, indicating that someone has entered the premises. My head quickly snaps toward the sound.

And it's like in one minute, everything I struggled so hard to forget and leave behind comes back with force and without control like waves of a tsunami.

Standing just a few meters away from where I'm sitting, my gaze meets Charles'.

Charles. My ex-boyfriend whom I haven't seen in almost four years. The part that hurts the most from my past, besides the death of Jules.

He looks different. So different from the last time I saw him at Jules' funeral. This time he's not dressed in mourning black, no. He's wearing casual clothes, dark jeans, and a moss green sweater with the word "FERRARI" stamped in black. There's a scruffy beard on his face and his eyes...damn. The eyes that last time reflected so much hopelessness were now more alive, but still with certain traces of concern.

Charles walks up to where I'm sitting, his steps quick and wide as if he wanted to corner me before I could escape again. He stops half a meter away, and his gaze curiously roams over me. His expression is stern but also covered in doubt. I bet that, like me, he wants to understand why I'm here.

"Charles..." I'm the first to say, my voice low and uncertain. He nods slowly, his gaze still fixed on me, as if he wants to uncover all the secrets I gained during the years we were apart.

“What are you doing here, Marie?" he asks, direct and determined, without any hesitation. It's a tone I would have never expected to hear from the Charles I left four years ago. Yes, he really has changed.

I wished I could answer him with the same intensity, but honestly, I don't think I could. There's so much going on here and my head is spinning with so many questions and emotions. Why is Charles here? What the hell is going on? Did he set all this up?

"Is this some kind of joke? Because if it is, I swear to God it's not funny," he says, his tone now rough.

I sit there staring at him, completely confused.

Charles runs his hand through his hair, messing up his brown locks even more. He sighs heavily and closes his eyes, his tongue quickly passing over his lower lip. He used to do that all the time when he felt anger or frustration. At least that hasn't changed.

"What are you doing here, Charles?" I ask, and he opens his eyes, once again staring at me.

Charles's hand reaches into his back pocket and pulls out an envelope identical to the one that was left for me in the office in Italy. The difference is that I can see that this one was addressed to Charles, only his name, and also without a sender.

"Please tell me it wasn't you, Marie," he says as his eyes shift from the envelope to my face. I look at him with all the sincerity I can muster and answer, "No, it wasn't me." He nods his head, his expression softening a bit. He moves and sits in the vacant chair in front of me, his hands going up to his face to rub it.

"Jules has a son," he says.

"I know," I reply.

"Charles lowers his hands and stares at me once again, confusion etched on his face. Before he can say anything, I reach into my bag on the table, open it, and take out the white envelope. Charles looks at my hand for a moment before reaching over the table to take the envelope from me."

"You got one too," he says, not looking at me, even though it's not a question,  I nod my head in agreement.

"It seems she arranged to meet with both of us. I think it's easier if we hear the story at the same time, that way there's no risk of getting the wrong versions," I say, and his gaze shifts from the envelopes on the table to me.

"Do you think it's a lie? That the boy isn't Jules's son?" he asks seriously, and I just shrug in response.

"I believe it could be Jules's son. I just don't know why she waited all this time and why she chose us. Obviously, we're not the best people to show Vincenzo that he has a family on his father's side," I say, and I see Charles's jaw tighten.

"We were friends with Jules. He trusted us," he says, once again his voice sounding rough.

"It seems he didn't trust us enough to tell us he fell in love," I say, and immediately regret it.

I look at Charles and if we were part of a cartoon, he would have flames in his eyes.

“You don't know what happened. You don't know his reasons, just like me,” he says through gritted teeth. “Don't doubt his motives. Not when he's not here to defend himself.”

In all the years I've spent by Charles' side, I've never seen him so angry. And if I didn't know him, I'd be scared.

But do you still know him? I silently ask myself.

"That's not what I meant," I defensively reply. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way. Of course, Jules had reasons and we'll find out when Cecilia arrives." Charles relaxes his jaw and adjusts in his seat.

I look at the clock on the wall again. 4:10 PM. She's late. I look at Charles, a little anxious.

"Do you think she's coming?" he shrugs, but his hand goes into his hoodie pocket and pulls out a cell phone. 

"She's late," he states what I already know. "But I think so, she's coming." Charles carelessly tosses the phone onto the table, his anxious fingers fidgeting with his rings.

"Congratulations on the runner-up, by the way," I say, trying to ease both of our anxieties, and he looks back at me.

"Did you follow the races?" he asked, a little surprised.

"Yes," I admit, somewhat embarrassed. "My secretary is a huge Formula 1 fan," I add, which is not a lie. 

Like all Italians, Marcella is a devoted Tifosi. And even though I wanted to leave everything I knew behind, I couldn't escape one of the most beloved sports in Europe, especially in Italy, the home of Ferrari.

Charles lets out a low laugh, his look adopting the expression of a mischievous boy. Oh no.

"Your secretary, huh?" he says with a teasing and suggestive tone.

"Ah, shut up, Leclerc!" I say, trying to sound serious but failing when I let out a laugh. "I'm serious! My secretary is a diehard Tifosi. She can't shut up for a minute about Ferrari and makes me watch all the races," I say, shrugging.

"Yeah, yeah... And I bet I'm your 'secretary's' favorite driver, right?" he says, making air quotes with his fingers and having a smug smile on his face.

"Actually, she prefers Sainz," I say, and instantly his smile turns into a serious expression, which makes me laugh.

Soon, Charles' dimples appear on his cheek and my heart skips a beat at the sound of his typically somewhat flawed and exaggerated laugh. Oh, how I enjoyed hearing that horrible but at the same time very cute laugh again.

At that moment, even though I hated to admit it, I realized how much I missed that feeling of familiarity and lightness. And even though just a few minutes ago, I was doubting whether I still knew the person that Charles had become, I could see that regardless of the years and tragedies that life had subjected him to from a young age, that kind and playful boy that I had once fallen in love with was still there. And maybe he would never leave. And I liked that.

Looking at Charles smiling, sitting in front of me, I wonder for just a second if it would have been different if I hadn't left. But as soon as the thought came, I pushed it away. Because even though I was happy to know that Charles still had something familiar to me inside him, we were not meant to be even before Jules' death. And I doubt that we could have maintained a good relationship with all the pain and mourning that surrounded us. I made a good choice. Yes, I did the right thing.

Leaving Monaco was one of the hardest things I had to face. But it made me grow and become a strong woman. I learned to deal with loss, even if it may not be the healthiest way, it still worked for me. I was able to finish college, got the job I wanted, and met new people. I fell in love, and even though I didn't love them like I loved Charles, I still allowed myself to feel and try happiness. Clearly, it didn't work out, but the experience was worth it.

And I can also say that Charles has achieved what he wanted, or almost everything. He is one of the best Formula 1 drivers and drives for Ferrari, which is almost every motorsport athlete's dream. He has a successful career and is known worldwide for it. And even though he didn't get the title he so desperately craved last year, he may get it this year. He is focused, grateful, and kind. The golden boy. Il Predestinato.

Even though Charles is so young, he has given his family and friends everything they ever dreamed of. Pascale must be so proud of him, and if Harvé were still alive, I'm sure he would also be proud of the son he raised. And Jules would also be proud to see Charles' progress.

And then the emptiness appears again. Jules. I try my best not to think about him. The memories are still painful even after all these years.

I think I let my thoughts reflect too much because Charles, who was laughing before, now looks at me with a compassionate expression. He probably thought of Jules too.

"I miss him too," he says and I nod my head. "And I missed you too," his hand meets mine on the table.

There were no ulterior motives. Just a gesture. A gesture to affirm what he was saying. And it hurt. It hurt in my heart and soul.

I quickly withdraw my hand from his and stare at the table. Charles withdraws his hands and keeps them close to his body.

"I know you didn't owe me anything, Marie. No explanations, not loyalty," he starts, his voice a little broken, making my heart tighten. "But Jules died and you left. Why did you leave?" he asks, and I can hear the hurt in his voice.

I wished I had the strength to lift my gaze and tell him while looking him in the eyes that everything I did was out of fear and thinking that there was nothing left for me in Monaco. That I still loved him even after he broke up with me and that losing Jules to death destroyed me, but knowing that I would lose Charles while he was still alive would only ruin me even more. I couldn't see him every day and know that he no longer belonged to me. And that every minute I spent mourning and heartbroken without him reminded me that love was impossible for me. That I didn't deserve to be loved. That there would never be anyone to love me.

"I had to go," I say, still staring at my hands. "I don't expect you to understand or forgive me. Because I'm not asking for any of that, Charles," my voice sounds firm but my eyes burn.

I take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds before releasing it. I raise my gaze to meet his when I'm sure the tears won't fall.

"I had to make a choice and I did. I chose myself," I say simply, perhaps trying to convince myself.

Charles nods his head and goes back to fiddling with the rings on his fingers. This time it was difficult for him to look at me.

"I'm happy to see who you've become, Marie. And I hope you've achieved what you wanted when..." he pauses for a second, unsure of what to say, "when you left Monaco." A tired laugh escapes his lips. "I'm not going to judge you, especially since when you left, we were no longer a couple. But I was an idiot to think that we were still friends." He looks back at me. "I was foolish until I realized that there would be no possibility for us without Jules being here."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to stand up and throw everything in front of me at him. I wanted to curse at him and tell him that he didn't have that right. But to be fair, I could never do that. Not when I left, when it was me who left what was left of the three of us. Jules had died and I had fled. When I left, I didn't think of Charles or his feelings. I only thought of myself and how I could never live with that.

I don't regret it. I did what I thought was necessary and would do it again. Charles might have needed me, but I needed to leave and heal. And that's what I did. Charles still had friends and family to rely on, and I had no one. No present family, no friends, and no boyfriend. Charles and I both mourned, of course, but we mourned in different ways. He had lost a friend, and I had lost everything.

There was no one to come home to and hug. There was no one there to tell me that they were sorry for my loss and that everything would be okay. So I went after what I thought I needed and I got it. I went in search of myself, a new life, new choices, and opportunities, and I found them. I found myself. Of course, I let go of a lot, and the void left by Jules and Charles was never filled, but I learned to cope and use it to my advantage for other things, and that was enough, at least for now.

Before I could respond to him, I'm interrupted once again by the sound of the damn doorbell.

Charles and I turned our attention to the door at the same time. Both of us were staring at a slim blonde woman, wearing a green coat and leggings. But what caught our attention the most was the little boy in her arms. He was about 3 or 4 years old, with dark hair, lying with his face hidden in the woman's neck, and his small hand clutching onto her collar as if he were afraid she would leave if he let go.

Charles and I stood up in rehearsed gestures, all at the same time. He stopped beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder, covered by my own coat this time. The woman looked at us and came slowly towards us. When she got closer and stopped about a meter away from us, I could analyze her.

Her face was thin and perfectly symmetrical, and even though it seemed like she hadn't slept in days, her tired eyes were a beautiful shade of greenish-brown. She is very beautiful. Her lips opened in a small smile, and there I could see that she easily fit Jules' type.

"I assume you are Charles and Marie, right?" She says, her voice sweet and tired.

My gaze moves from her to the little boy in her arms, and then they cross with Charles'. He tells me through his eyes the same things I am thinking. We return our attention to the blonde in front of us and nod.

"Great!" She clears her throat before continuing, "I'm Cecilia, and this little guy here is Vincenzo." She gently shakes the child, who tightens his grip on her coat collar even more. "Jules' son."

Charles' grip on my shoulder becomes stronger, and I swallow hard. I can't take my eyes off the little boy, and now up close, I can see his profile. His chubby childlike cheek and long eyelashes, just like Jules'.

Cecilia shifts uncomfortably, her feet shifting the weight from one to the other, and she adjusts Vincenzo's position in her lap.

"I know you must have thousands of questions, and I promise I will answer them all. But before that, would you mind if I sit down? Vincenzo is a bit heavy, and I walked here with him in my arms," she says, embarrassed.

"Of course not. Please," Charles approaches her and pulls the chair he was sitting in a few minutes ago. Cecilia sits down, careful not to make any sudden movements and wake Vincenzo.

Charles points to the empty chair, and I sit down. He takes a few steps hto the table next to us and takes an unoccupied chair to sit on. Once the three of us are seated around the table, Charles calls the waitress, whom I only now notice has been staring at us this whole time. The redheaded and smiling girl, who probably can't be more than 19 years old, approaches with her gaze fixed on Charles- she probably recognized him.

Charles is the one who orders. A cappuccino for me- which causes a sensation in my stomach that he still remembers- an iced tea for himself, and he asks Cecilia what she would like to drink, to which she responds that coffee would be enough. The redhead writes down the orders and asks for permission to leave. Her eyes still glued to Charles.

I roll my eyes internally, but I know I can't blame her. After all, it's probably not every day that she serves a public figure. When we used to come here with Jules, the employees were different, and the small café is located on a somewhat isolated street in Nice, so it's unlikely that many famous people come here.

I take my gaze off the waitress and turn back to Cecilia, who was already looking at me attentively with a small smile on her lips.

"Well..." Charles begins. "Why are we here, Cecilia? Why only now have you contacted us?" He leans forward a little more, his arms resting on the wooden table.

Cecilia shifts in her chair carefully and her eyes briefly glance at Vincenzo before turning back to us.

"I wanted you to meet Vincenzo. While he was alive, Jules always mentioned you as part of his family. He loved you both very much," she says, and I feel my chest tightening.

"But why only now?" I speak for the first time. "I know you wrote in the letter that you were afraid, but it still sounds strange that you would come looking for us now, without any reason," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

Cecilia falls silent for a few seconds as if she wants to formulate the next words carefully.

"There's a reason," she confirms. "Look, I know it's strange, and I assure you that I'm not looking for any money or anything like that." Her gaze shifts from me to Charles, as if she wants to confirm the latter part specifically for him. "Jules and I met about six months before he died, and it was love at first sight."

"He never told us about you," Charles responds cutting her off and she nods. 

"I know he didn't. I asked him not to," she says and Charles and I exchange confused looks before turning our attention back to her.

"What do you mean? Why would you ask him not to?" I ask, finding it all very odd.

"When I met Jules, I was in a complicated time in my life," she answers and I see her face darken. "I was only 19 and had run away from Italy." Her voice trembles as if it's hard for her to mention those times again.

I wish I could tell her that she didn't need to tell us if she wasn't feeling comfortable, but the truth was that it was really necessary. After all, that's what Charles and I are here for.

Charles nodded for her to continue and I could feel his tension.

"I got involved with the wrong people in Italy," she continues. "There was a boy I had been in love with during my teenage years, Paolo was his name. We were very young and stupid, you know?" Cecília laughs and her eyes fill with tears. "Like every teenager, we thought we were invincible, but we weren't. When I was 17, I spent most of my time at parties and clubs with him. We drank and did drugs, and everything was fun and happy until it wasn't anymore. Over time, the drinking and drugs stopped being just for parties and began to become necessary for anything. From being able to concentrate on studies, to being able to get out of bed. My parents assumed that Paolo was to blame for my addiction and banned me from seeing him. I obviously went against them and they made me choose between a life with them or my ruin with Paolo. I, being young and foolish, chose love and abandoned my parents without looking back. I left the life I had to chase adventures with Paolo and he did the same, running away from home. But the thing is, we were two addicted people without a home and money. There was no more money from our parents, so we started doing whatever we could. Small thefts and even..." She stops for a moment, thick tears streaming down her face.

"Here." Charles extends a napkin and she takes it, wiping her face immediately after.

"Thank you," she says and he offers her a half-smile. "Even prostitution," she continues, and I feel my stomach churn. It wasn't disgust, but rather a pity for imagining someone in that situation. Beside me, I could see that Charles was equally uncomfortable. It was hard for him to put himself in her place.

Charles grew up with great parents who did everything for their children, and even though they weren't millionaires at the time, they still managed to have and offer a comfortable life for them. And I bet that if any of the three, Charles, Lorenzo, or Arthur, had gone the wrong way, Pascale would never have abandoned them.

And me, well, I was lucky. I spent my teenage years with Jules and Charles, who had a structured enough family to share with me because my parents were absent.

Obviously, Charles and I had our rebellious phase with occasional drinking and smoking weed. But Jules, being almost ten years older than us, always kept us in line like a good older brother. And if he knew that we had crossed the line at parties or anywhere else, oh God! He would freak out.

- "Cecilia, I know it's difficult for you to say this, but I think it's important for Charles and me to understand," I say and she nods.

Cecília takes two deep breaths before continuing, and that's when I'm sure the story would only get worse. I try to prepare myself to hear what she had to say.

"I prostituted myself a few times without Paolo's knowledge. Some traffickers gave me drugs in exchange for sex and since many times I had no other choice, I accepted. But one day he found out and that ended us. With us." Tears returned to stream down her face. "Paolo went crazy when he found out and went after the trafficker I had slept with. He got a gun and killed the guy. We were on the run for a few weeks, but it was too hard for two homeless addicts to hide in Italy. Soon they found us and..." She closes her eyes and sobs.

I stretch my hand across the table and take Cecilia's hand. There was a lot of pain there and part of me wanted to curl up and stop listening, but I couldn't. I glance at Charles and he meets my gaze, his eyes reflecting distress at hearing everything that came out of her mouth. It was too surreal for him to hear all of that.

"They killed Paolo and thought they had killed me too. But by some miracle, I managed to survive and ask for help at a church. The priest there was friends with my parents and managed to find a family in Nice who were willing to help me. So I came to France, went through rehabilitation, and started attending meetings for drug addicts." Her eyes become distant again, and I continue holding her hand. "It was on the way back from one of those meetings that I met Jules, and that's where I understood the reason why I survived. We fell in love, but he had a public life and I couldn't expose myself because I was afraid that they would come after me. I told Jules what had happened and unlike what I thought he would do, he embraced me. He promised me that he wouldn't tell anyone, not even you two until I was ready and safe. And he did that. He kept us a secret for months. We saw each other every time he came back to Nice, after the races." She finishes.

Charles and I watched as Cecilia tried to calm her breathing, her grip on the sleeping Vincenzo's body tightening as if afraid he might disappear from her arms at any moment.

It breaks my heart to see all her pain and gives me a completely different perspective from when I walked in here today. She loved Vincenzo, and that was clear, just as she had loved Jules. And that's the part that hurts me the most.

Knowing that the reason Jules never mentioned her to us, his friends and family, was sole to protect her, made my heart heavy and warm at the same time. That was so Jules.

I remember months before he died, he started to spend more time in his hometown and whenever we asked him about it, he said he wanted to spend a little more time with his family. We even found it a little strange, but Jules always had a great relationship with his parents and closest relatives, which made us simply let it go and just enjoy the time we spent together before he and Charles had to go back to racing.

"I'm sorry for all of this, really, Cecilia," Charles is the first to say after she seems calmer. "But we still need to know why you're only coming to us now," he says, and I agree.

Cecilia nods and looks at Vincenzo in her arms. The tension emanating from her makes me shiver, and Charles probably noticed it too as his hand finds my thigh under the table.

"About two days before Jules' death, I found out I was pregnant with Vincenzo," she says and I nod in understanding. "Jules was racing in Shanghai and I was scared and alone here." The tears that had ceased returned in stronger waves.

My mind teleports back to 2019, to Jules' last race. He was so happy to finish seventh that day. But, all of a sudden, he just wanted to go home and rest, not even celebrating with the boys on the grid.

"I sent him a message after the race. I said I needed him to come to Nice as soon as possible because something had happened," Cecilia looks at Charles as she speaks. "Then he sent me a message saying he would take the first available flight back to France."

As Cecilia talks, Charles' grip on my thigh gets stronger. I look at him from the corner of my eye and I can see the moment his Adam's apple goes up and down.

"So that's why he left so quickly that day," Charles' voice sounds low. "He left before I could talk to him..." His eyes fill with tears and his breathing becomes a bit unstable. Cecilia just nods and closes her eyes tightly before continuing.

"When Jules arrived in Nice, it was already early morning and it was raining heavily. He tried to get a taxi or Uber, but couldn't get either," this time I feel my breathing falter a bit as she continues. "He managed to rent a car from a nearby 24-hour agency and sent me a message saying he would arrive soon and that I didn't need to worry because no matter what was happening, everything would be okay and that he loved me."

Charles stood up abruptly. His face adopted a look of disbelief.

"It was you..." his voice was weak and accusatory. "It was because of you that he... My God!" He flinches and his hands pass through his face and his hair.

"Charles..." I try to calm him down, even though I am also anxious. "Charles, please sit down and try to calm down." I try to grab his hand, but he recoils in a sudden movement.

"Calm down? It's her, Marie!" he says, pointing to Cecilia who only shrinks into her chair and holds Vincenzo even tighter, as he moves uncomfortably in her lap. "She killed him! IT'S HER FAULT THAT JULES DIED!" he screams.

My breathing becomes difficult and my heart races. In front of me, Cecilia sobs and holds Vincenzo even closer to her body.

All that commotion made some employees start to appear and approach at a safe distance from the table.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Cecilia pleads. "I swear I never wanted this to happen, I was so scared and..." She stops when she hears Vincenzo's low cry.

Charles' attention goes to the little boy as he realizes he is now awake. He shakes his head in a negative motion and leaves the café in a hurry, slamming the door hard behind him. We are startled by the noise and the little boy cries even louder. I quickly get up to go after Charles, but before I do, I turn to Cecilia.

"Please wait here, okay? I'll try to calm him down. Don't leave," I say, and she nods, her face stained with tears that continued to fall, and her breathing accelerated as she rocked Vincenzo, trying to calm him down.

A dark-haired waitress approaches with a glass of water in her hands and places it in front of Cecilia. I thank her with a gesture and quickly leave through the door to find Charles.

It doesn't take me long to find him, he was in front of a black car. His body leaned against the driver's side. Even from a distance, I can see his body shaking and hear the sound of his erratic breathing. I approach him slowly, so as not to startle him.

When I get close enough, I think about touching him, but the thought leaves my mind when I realize it's not a good idea.

"Charles..." I call him softly to get his attention. "I'm sorry, but we need to go back there. She-"

"No!" he exclaims. "Please, Marie! Don't ask me to go back there. She killed him! It was her fault!" He stares at me with red and swollen eyes.

My heart tightens at the sight of him like this. I find myself being sent back to the year of Jules' death, specifically to the day of his funeral.

I wanted to hug Charles and tell him that everything would be okay, but in reality, I didn't know if it would. Jules had died almost four years ago, and yet it still hurt every time his name was mentioned. And hearing today from a stranger the reasons that resulted in his death was not easy. But there was a reason why Cecilia wanted to contact us after all this time, and we needed to know.

I take a deep breath and decide to approach Charles more. One of us had to try to be rational at this moment, and if it had to be me, okay. I wasn't going to go back to Italy without an answer.

"Charles, I understand that it's difficult to hear all of this suddenly," my hands go to his face. "I know it hurts, Charles. I'm feeling it too." He closes his eyes and I feel tears rolling down my face. "But we can't blame her entirely, Charles. She was scared and just wanted to talk to him.”

“And it resulted in his death." He says, his eyes opening and meeting mine. "Marie, if she hadn't done what she did, he would be here now. He would be alive and he would have met..." His voice trails off. "He would have met his son." He cries and I pull him into a hug.

Jules died without knowing his son. Jules died without knowing that he would have a son. Jules died in the dark without knowing what was happening to Cecilia. Jules died alone and worried, and nothing we can do will bring him back. He died. It's over. But Charles and I are still here.

"Jules died without knowing his son, but we're still here and we can do this for him," I say and he squeezes me tighter.

 "We're still here, Charles. And we can do this." He breaks the hug and looks at me with a face full of sorrow. I nod. 

"We need to go in there together. Together," he looks down at his feet. "Charles, I need you to go in there with me because I can't do this alone." His eyes come back to me and he understands that I used the same words he did a few years ago. "Please, Charles. I don't want to do this alone. I can't." He nods and I take his hand and slowly lead him back to the cafe.

When we walk through the door, my eyes meet Cecilia's. I nod my head to let her know it's okay, and she nods in understanding. I look at Charles who stares at her expressionlessly. His gaze is icy, totally different from the one I once knew.

Still holding Charles' hand, I walk toward the table where she uncomfortably waits for us. I notice that Vincenzo is no longer in her lap and feel momentary concern that quickly passes when I see him playing with the same red-haired waitress who had served us.

We sit in our chairs and I see that our orders are placed on the table. I feel my stomach churn just looking at the cappuccino in front of me. I take glance around and notice the employees trying to avoid looking at us. I make a mental note to "solve" this problem so it doesn't follow us when we leave.

"Just say what you want," Charles breaks the silence, his eyes still staring at Cecilia who nods and swallows hard.

"I understand your anger, and I know I have no right to ask for what I'm about to ask," she says and my hearing sharpens. "I live with guilt for years. Whether it's for Paolo or Jules, guilt and remorse follow me wherever I go. No matter what I try to do, they're always there." She looks at her hands. "Last year, I relapsed. I used heroin, once, but I used it. After years of resisting and not even going near drugs, I let my messed-up mind fall into the hole and I shot up." She lets out a desperate laugh and her eyes fill with water.

My body freezes and Charles makes a sound of scorn beside me. When he opens his mouth to say something, Cecilia cuts him off.

"Yes, I know I'm a whore, and I deserve the worst shit life has in store for me. But that's the thing. I deserve the bad things, but my son doesn't," she says firmly, looking at us seriously. "I need Vincenzo to have a good and decent life. I need to make sure he grows up loved and that he never lacks anything." She looks away for a moment to the table where Vincenzo was happily playing with the waitress and then back to us.

Cecilia takes a deep breath and leans forward. I could swear she was capable of asking for anything at that moment. Money, a house in a distant place, a period in rehab, anything.

"I can't take care of Vincenzo anymore," she asserts, her tone exuding bitterness. "I promised Jules that I would do everything to make him different from me. And that's why I came to you after all these years."

My head spins. She's asking for...? No, it's not possible.

"What do you mean by that?" Charles asks anxiously.

"Cecilia wipes the tears from her face with her hand, blinks a few times, and adopts a determined look, a look that I knew well. The same look I gave to myself in the mirror when I decided to leave Monaco. Suddenly, I feel afraid because my suspicions are confirmed.

"She wants us to take care of Vincenzo," I say.

[timemajesty]

So, today on November 5th, 10 years ago I made an OC for the game called Super Mario RPG. Ever since then, I've worked on him and poured so much love, sweat, tears, money and even blood into making this OC into what he is today. Not my typical type of post on here, but it's important for me to share just how much Erbin has grown as a character.

Erbin was originally created for the purposes of coping with a lot of awful things that happen in my childhood, but I never had resources or anything to draw him or get art of him, so until around 7 years ago he didn't even have any artwork to his name. I just always had so much written up pieces about him, all this information, all these little stories, and especially a lot of ship fanfics. I made him to ship with Geno, which I know is very basic nowadays, basically everyone ships an OC with Geno, but I don't care for being basic.

His first design, is awful I won't lie, I didn't know what I was doing as a character designer back then. Most of his much older art is so old, I cannot find any traces of the artists who drew a lot of them for me, so I apologize in advance for that.

Art was originally made by someone known as SweetRaccon on Amino.

Gawd, his old design. Back when he had pink hair, a much larger crown, no nose and no ears. He was also really slim back then, and also his story was a lot more different, and not good. I'll be honest and say, I kinda originally wrote him to be a projection of what my abusive ex was, a horrible person who didn't care about others if it meant getting what he wanted and I admit that I don't think that was healthy for me to do, and I've grown and I know now that projecting is okay but if you want an OC to be very much your own thing you probably shouldn't project too much onto them.

This was also the era of which I started becoming more serious with his character, adding more details into his story and giving him actual information, such as an age, a family, stuff like that.

Original art by my boyfriend.

Ah, his second design. It's still not the best but it was better. Back then I had figured out his height, some characteristics to his design and overall fixed some stuff; such as I gave him a nose and ears, and his hair wasn't completely pink, this was also around the same time that FNF was getting popular and everyone and their mothers kept comparing him to the mom from that game, to this day I will never understand that because I just don't see the similarities at all, other than the skin color.

This was probably the time in my life where I started to develop a lot of my bad writing habits, especially my habit of giving up when I feel like something I write isn't perfect; it's kinda an issue and still is to this day, and you can probably understand why I don't post him often because of that. What I will say though is that back then I had fleshed out his story to be less of just "haha he's my ex but as an OC" to "Oh, he's a very troubled and fascinating character who I changed up to not be an abuser." I'll be honest, I regret ever making him anything like my abuser.

Original art by Facade on Discord ( @toastee-roastee )

The current design, the current era.

This is when I started to develop more of his relationship with Geno, instead of Erbin being nothing but a flirty bastard with Geno; he's now someone who had to earn Geno's trust back after Geno had learned about Erbin's affiliation with the Smithy Gang. Which, let's talk about that, I don't talk about his lore enough. So here it is, the definitive and complete story of Erbin's backstory.

Once upon a time, there was a God and a Shadow Siren. They didn't love one another, the God knew he loved someone else but fate kept them apart and forced him to be with this Shadow Siren. When they decided to have a kid to keep the Gods' legacy in tact, they realized they didn't have the time or resources to care for a child. So this God, Culex, decided to give the child to a tyrant, none other than Smithy; who begrudgingly accepted Culex's request and took in baby Erbin, raising him as if he was one of the Smithy Gang members.

It didn't take long for Erbin to start being an annoyance around the Factory, he had known from a young age about how his father abandoned him which made him grow up as a troublemaker. After 30 years of suffering from abuse, burns and scars from machines, and constantly being yelled at...Erbin had enough, that's when Mario and his group of heroes destroyed Smithy, and that's when Erbin took that opportunity to steal Smithy's crown and escape the Weapons World, claiming an abandoned castle deep into the Forest Maze as his home.

It wasn't long before he met one of those heroes, Geno, who had been ordered to take care of any remaining Smithy Gang soldiers that lurked Mario's World, the rest is history.

More art from my boyfriend.

When I tell you this OC means everything to me, I mean it. He's been with me through it all, ever since the start of an abusive relationship with my ex all the way to today, where my life is a lot better and I have an amazing partner and an awesome friend group. To everyone who's been in this journey of helping me make Erbin the character he is today, thank you. You mean just as much as Erbin means to me, which is a lot. I wouldn't be here without this OC and I definitely wouldn't be who I am today without him, he brought me so many memories and I can't wait to make more with him. I may post more for him today, today is his special day.

Oh and it's election day so like, vote for Erbin lmao.

[voidinmexx]

SIX OF CROWS COLLEGE/MODERN AU???

(even tho technically they'd all be in highschool following cannon age)

shut up.

oh lord

i love imagining my traumatized little characters in happy worlds,

background knowledge:

grisha arent a thing in this au and there is no current wars

Dorm Arrangements:

Inej and Nina requested rooms together the same day they could, Kaz managed to get a room alone and so did Wylan. Matthias doesn't go to college nor does Jesper.

disclaimer:

i will write more lore about this collige au esp jesper and wylan because we need more gay men in healthy loving relationships

(its me im the gay men)😭

"Hey, Kaz!"

The boy, who was previously watching a particularly ugly bird, looked up to see Inej and Nina. Both of the girls wore matching sundresses.

The five were going swimming today. Although Ketterdam was known for it's dreary and bleak weather, it was summer which meant they got three whole days out of the month of August to enjoy a sunny day.

"Where's Jesper and Matthias?" Inej asked Kaz, as if he could telepathically communicate with the two idiots.

"I think Matthias is meeting us at the watering hole," Nina chimed in. She was typing away furiously on her phone and every so often a curl would fall in front of her eyes and she would angrily push it away, only for gravity to drag the curl right back where it fell before.

Suddenly, a loud chime startled the group, well, not really. Kaz did not only jump but also let out a little yelp as his phone went off. Inej and Nina laughed until they were both a wheezing mess.

"Oh. My. God." Kaz could barely make out the girl's out of breath words. Before she could elaborate, Nina began to have another laughing

fit.

"It startled me, that was all." Kaz grumbled, crossing his arms and pulling out his phone angrily. He had been gifted the device from Inej, it was a Christmas gift. Kaz, ever the old man in a young adult's body, had no clue on how to work the damn thing. Currently, it was the ringer that was giving him hell but last week iMessage was kicking his ass.

"Jesper texted me," he said, "He's asking if we mind if he brings an extra person."

"Jesper?" Nina asked, "With a date?"

Inej, the ever loving and gracious friend, smacked Nina's arm. The latter gasped dramatically and pretended to cradled her arm.

"Don't be rude. It's probably just some poor person Jesper wanted to drag along on an adventure," she shuddered and Kaz shook his head, "He does that too much."

"I agree, we should say no."

"What?" Inej interjected, even Nina raised an eyebrow at Kaz's suggestion, "Let them come it'll be fun. Maybe we can make a new friend!"

Kaz, however, did not see Inej's point.

Nevertheless, he texted Jesper and told him the stranger could come. The things he did for that girl.

Originally, Kaz met Nina junior year of highschool.

She had just moved from Ravka and they were paired together for a science project. The project was complex, it was meant to show an overall understanding of what they learned that year. The two extensively worked on it for two months and proudly presented it. Although they never became "friends" in highschool, both kept contact and Kaz even showed up at Nina's 18th birthday.

"Sorry I missed your sweet sixteen," he said as he handed Nina his gift, "I didn't realize those were an important thing to you." Kaz shrugged, Nina noticed, as he said the last part. I didn't realize those were an important thing to you. He cared, Nina realized that day, he acted like he didn't but he definitely did. Before she was sent to Ketterdam she was not the most popular kid on the playground. Friends were hard to make when you get singled out by someone many people look up to.

For Nina, Kaz was a breath of fresh air. Not that she would ever let him know that. He might get violent.

Behind them, the three could hear a car pulling up. Jesper's light blue Honda Civic parked poorly in a spot nearby. His face peeked over the roof of his car and he began wavely excitedly when he saw his friends. The passenger side door opened "Uhm, where are my keys?"

Kaz, who had been watching this for a second stepped up. In his fingers, the keys swung lazily.

"I'm driving."

Jesper groaned as Kaz forced him out of the truck. There was no arguing with a brick wall.

After Jesper almost ran into a dear, Kaz would not let Jesper drive in a car that he also was in. The group laughed and gossiped on the way to the watering hole, when they arrived Kaz was voted as designated Spot Finder. He was not swimming so he was tasked with finding a place for all their stuff and making sure it's not stolen.

ok im gonna edit this later and add im so sornee rn and CAN NOT breathe😭

[lsyd25]

Forsaking all others

Okay, so I was planning on writing something new today to break in my brand new (to me) laptop when I found this absolute gem hiding in my google docs. I wrote it several years ago. Don’t judge and I just want to share it with you all. If you like it amazing. Please like and reblog. If you don’t : keep that shit to yourself. That’s not why I’m posting it. As always you are responsible for the content you consume even if you forget that.

Antonia’s hand trembled as she lifted the bottle to her lips. She blinked back tears trying desperately to hold on to a stoic facade. She scowled at the abnormal sign of weakness. In her world, weakness meant death. She couldn’t afford any faults. Her daughter’s life depended-depends on it. She rolled the empty bottle between her brown hands, needing to do something with all her restless energy. Plucking at her quickly disappearing manicure she ruminated on the circumstances that led her to this moment.

Calling him was an act of desperation, and it was a decision she hadn’t made lightly. But Antonia was alone in the world and she needed help. She’d tried all her contacts, called in every favor. Like it or not, Martel would have to do. This was too important to let her pride get in the way.

So lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that someone had slid into the booth opposite hers until the waitress was plunking down two more bottles. After the young girl had sashayed away followed by a leer from her companion, Antonia cleared her throat to gain his attention. Ignoring the part of her that wanted to bare her fangs to the waitress. He was hers dammit. A small voice whispered in her head. Was. He was but he isn’t any longer.

“Not that I’m not flattered, fangs…but why did you call on me?” Martel murmured, turning back to his seatmate. Antonia took a deep breath and tried to ease the tension out of her shoulders. “Because fae-boy,” she shot back. “I need... a favor.” Martel regarded her silently for a long moment. Antonia could feel the muscles in her back protesting how tightly she held herself, waiting for rejection. His next move surprised her. Martel broke out into full on laughter, chuckles, chortles, and even a guffaw or two made their way out. His laughter brought all eyes to their table. Antonia cringed.

And then she snapped. Reaching across the table with inhuman speed she grabbed the laughing man. “Listen you sparkling freak,” she hissed. “Our daughter is missing and like it or not you are my best bet of finding her. It has been a rough three days and I would like a little bit of cooperation if that is not too much for you.” Throwing him down she sat back in a huff and to her surprise, felt tears gathering. Again. She hadn’t cried so much since she actually died.

Red droplets splashed onto the table and she heard Martel swear under his breath. A warm pale hand reached out and covered hers. Antonia lifted her misery lined face to his serious one. His stony face and stern tone brooked no argument, “I think you’d better start from the beginning.”

In response, Antonia pulled out her phone. Pulling up a photo she slid it across the table. “This is Mirabelle. I call her Mirie for short. She’s yours-ours, I mean.” She watched from lowered lashes as he studied the picture of their daughter with an impassive face. His expression never changed but his eyes. Oh God they almost broke her resolve.

“How old is she?”He asked, his eyes devouring the picture in front of him. He lifted the phone in a silent query to look at more. She gestured for him to help himself. “Fa-five,” Antonia whispered brokenly.

“I meant to tell you. I-I picked up the phone so many times but…” She hung her head. Their last argument wasn’t really conducive to sharing any kind of news, much less the discovery that she was with child. “And now she’s missing. She’s my whole world and she’s gone and I…” Martel sighed and slid the phone back to her. “ Said is said and what’s done is done.” He shot her a bitter, twisted smile. Antonia shivered. His blue eyes were so cold.

Hopping out of the booth he held a hand out to her. “All we can do is keep moving forward.” Bright golden eyes caught and held royal blue ones. “Forward,” she murmured and took his hand.

“So this is my humble abode,” Antonia announced. Martel looked around nodding approvingly. The small bungalow was deceptively designed with the main bulk of the house being underground. He resisted the urge to make a snarky comment about dirt and vampirism. It was nice and homey with comfortable child friendly furniture and personalized knickknacks artfully tucked into the various nooks and crannies. It was not just a house but a home. Martel felt an odd tug in his chest. He could easily see the bright vivacious child from the photograph in this living space. It wasn’t a space he would have thought of for her mother; however, the statuesque and stylish woman managed to fit in with her current surroundings just fine.

The woman in question had sunk down into a cushy armchair. Threading her hands into her kinky hair she sighed. Martel remembered that hair. It was the first thing that drew him to her, so unlike his pin straight inky locks, Antonia’s hair had a mind of its own. Small, tightly wound curls tumbling over and around each other, her hair was wild and free which was a direct contrast to the rest of her.

The instant he’d seen it he’d wanted to discover if it was as soft as it looked. Sunshine bright eyes reminding him of liquid gold, cat’s eyes he’d mentioned once to his friend Yoien.  Right now, they were big and sleepy and reminded him of the lazy look of them after a long night filled with sweaty and tangled limbs. He firmly shook his head. There wasn’t any time for that. Mirie was missing, and he was a father on a mission. He tossed his hair back.   “Where’s Mirie’s room?” The husky sound drew Antonia back to the present. She got up gracefully from the chair and led the way to a small hallway. “Over here.” She didn’t mention the brokenness in his tone or the rawness of his voice.  Martel was grateful. Stepping into his daughter’s room, he closed his eyes and allowed his other senses full reign. He mostly pulled in flashes of laughter and a joyful innocence that left him yearning for that time he missed out on. There were bits of vampire magic and fledgling fae glamourie mixed in. He wondered if Antonia had recognized the Gift he’d passed down to their child. His child. Martel shoved the thought away and continued analyzing the space. Ah, there it was. Curiosity tinged with fear. It mingled with ancient magic, tainting the atmosphere of the room lightly. Wait a second, Martel frowned. Bemused. The magic was familiar to him but he couldn’t quite place it. Kneeling, he drew upon his core and opened his energy to the magic in the room. Antonia gasped. The room was freezing. Even though she couldn’t experience the cold, she recognized the amount of sheer energy he had to be expelling. It was immense. Martel puckered his brow, just a little more and he would have a name, a name would lead to motive and segue into what, when, and how. Antonia hovered over his still form anxiously praying that his silence meant a breakthrough in finding her child.

She regretted Martel’s pain but she did not regret keeping their daughter a secret. The life of a vampire was hard and lonely. Her existence relied on pain, blood, and, death. The screams and cries of her victims still echoed in her ears. Antonia thought that she would never reconcile herself completely to what she had become.

Then the one thing happened that she never would have expected. Life came from her womb. This brilliant amazing gift that was her daughter was something she cherished everyday. But, her daughter was a rarity among fae and vampire alike and with Martel being who he was…better not to take the risk and hope for the best. To forget what they had shared once upon a time and walk away for good. But with Mirie tethering them together, walking away this second time was going to be impossible. “Dammit!” Antonia gasped at the harsh sound then realized it had come from Martel. She laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Were you not able to See anything then?” She asked. “Yes and no,” his answer was vague and distracted. “It’s being cloaked. Even with that I can tell it's familiar but we are going to have to do a couple of things to get down to the bottom of this. Do you trust me?” Earnest blue eyes peered into hers. Antonia steeled her spine and looked back at him, unwavering. “Yes.” Her voice was clear and solid.

“Tell me again why this plan requires us to be bonded?” Martel sighed and turned on the bed to face the vampire. “After you tell me why we can’t discuss this in the morning like I already asked. I knew I shouldn’t have told you anything. You always overreact.”

Antonia stiffened, offended. “I do not. I just want a little bit of clarification. That’s all.” She prided herself for her well put answer. He’d have no comeback for that. “Well, I want those five years with my child that you stole but since neither one is happening tonight, will you please get some sleep and can we actually discuss this tomorrow like I already asked. Twice!” Antonia’s mouth turned down and she turned away from Martel and scooted towards the edge of the bed. Martel let out a guttural sigh and flopped on his back. That last line had been a pot shot but he really did need sleep.

Tomorrow they’d have to face his parents, that was enough of a chore to do well rested. After another hour of pretending not to hear her sniffle and faking sleep. Martel gave it up as lost and got up intending to head to the bathroom and recollect himself. Once in the hallway, his feet led him in a different direction and he found himself heading back to Mirabelle’s room.

Once there, he didn’t bother turning on the lights. His vision was enough to get by in the darkened room. He wandered around the room slowly, trying to glean as much about his daughter that he could. Before he knew it he was sitting in the dark, beside her bed clutching a photo of her and her mother to his chest crying silent sparkling tears. Sometime after that, Antonia crept in on silent feet and, saying nothing, sat down beside him and gathered him to her. No words passed between them as they quietly grieved for their lost child.

Antonia woke up alone. Blinking crusty eyes she gave a slow yawning stretch, glancing around the room for a clue where her partner in crime had gone. Mentally shrugging she dragged herself to her room to gather the required items for a much needed shower. One hot shower later found her back in her room blearily blotting out her hair. A quiet good morning had her jumping. “Martel! Please don’t do that.” He grinned. “And miss the sight of that lovely chest in that delectable towel. I think not,” he leered at her. She wrinkled her nose. “Ew,” turning around she remarked, stupidly, “You’re wearing robes. Why are you wearing robes?” Smirking, he handed her a wrapped parcel. “For the same reason you’ll be wearing them. It’s time to meet the parents.”  

Antonia smoothed down the robe’s skirts with a trembling hand, watching as Martel came up behind her in the mirror. “Beautiful,” he breathed. “Court dress becomes you. But there is something missing…” he mused. With a flourish he draped a platinum pendant over her head. She immediately tried to lift it off. “This is too much,” she protested. Laying a calming hand over hers, he shook his head. “It’s not enough,” he countered. “You’ve born my heir; they’ll be expecting much more than that paltry medallion. Women like you are to be cherished and protected. To be seen as doing less is a disservice to me and my House. And as we are posing as a soon to be bonded couple we can’t have that, now can we?” With a huff she yanked her hand from underneath his, inwardly cursing the longing for his warmth as she stepped away from his body. “Apparently not,” was her sardonic reply. “Good, hopefully you’ll accept the rest of the set with more grace,” he countered briskly. “Set?” Antonia replied faintly. Martel shot her a mischievous grin that reminded her of their whirlwind romance six years ago. “Set,” he confirmed.

“So let me get this straight, we are going to travel to the Night Court and meet your parents who may or may not have kidnapped my-our child. Hopefully trick them into letting her go and then just ride off into the sunset?” Antonia was nonplussed at Martel’s affirming shrug in reply. “Basically yes,” he said. “Although you might want to let me do most of the talking and for the love of all that is holy and right, do not, I repeat, do not let us get separated. The Night Court owns all creatures of the night and they will gladly keep you if you wander off.” Antonia bristled at the thought of being owned but his next words had her pondering. “The magic that keeps you has to come from somewhere,” Martel pointed out.

He crossed over to her and started nuzzling her cheek and neck, easily capturing her hands when she went to push him off. “Antonia, listen to me.” The serious expression he wore frightened her. What were they getting themselves into? “There are goblins, trolls, shapeshifters, and lesser demons that hang around the court. They’ll be sniffing you like bloodhounds. If you’re not scent marked in any way the jig is up before we’ve even been given an audience.” Antonia sighed. "I understand, I'll be good," she promised. Martel grinned, "Good, let's go."

The throne room was vast, impressive with sweeping arches and tons of gargoyles. That moved. It might have moved her if she wasn't worried about her missing child and super aware of Martel's hand on the small of her back. Creepy night creatures crawled and limped along the shadows. Antonia even spotted a couple of vampires that she recognized and has long thought dead, only they were chained to ethereal and statuesque creatures that could only be members of the high court. Inwardly cringing at the thought of being enslaved to one of these Unseelie creatures, Antonia leaned in a little closer to Martel for comfort. His reassuring touch calmed her somewhat but the niggling feeling of unease still remained.

Fixing her eyes in front, she focused on the ebony throne ahead. It was macabre, all skulls and bones and screaming spirits and it rose toward the vaulted ceiling where a trio of imps cackled in laughter and called out insults to those gathered below. Martel took his hand off of the small of Antonia's back and held out his arm. Together they approached the throne. As they got closer Antonia could see shimmering air on the throne. A man slowly faded into view as they approached. He was tall and broad with smooth ebony skin and the darkest eyes she'd ever seen. If she hadn't sensed the magic in his aura she would have assumed he was an extension of his throne. He studied them for a long moment and when spoke, Antonia shivered a little, because his voice felt like a physical caress on her spine. It felt like smooth silk sheets and dark decadent promises, disturbingly erotic and full of authority. "My son, thou has vowed never again to step foot in this court. What has caused thee to appear before Us and forsake thy vow?"

Antonia's eyes widened in shock, Martel never said a word or acted like this would be such a grave trip. She felt foolish for not having asked and for the assumptions she made. Martel had released her arm and had gone to greet his father properly. They conversed in low tones and she felt the Holly King's knowing eyes on her more than once, she felt herself  blushing at his frank assessment and apprehensive that he might find her wanting. Finally, Martel returned to her side and retook her arm running his hand alongside her forearm in a gesture of comfort. "I will search for your daughter," the Holly King intoned soberly. "If she is in my realm then she will be found." He turned his gaze inward. Antonia found her hand tightening on Martel's arm at the sight of the king's otherworldly vision. " The child Mirabelle is with my beloved." With these words Martel and Antonia found themselves outside of the throne room. Bewildered, Antonia turned to look at a visibly angry Martel. "What did he mean?" She wondered aloud. Through gritted teeth, he responded, "he meant that she is with my mother."

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 237

Our Little World/Xmas Special

“Our Little World”

Plot Description: a teen who’s lost her souls leads Dean to Crowley and a fast-growing Amara. Castiel sees an old acquaintance on TV, stuck in an earthly body

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: No one died…that we saw

Yeah, bet that won’t come to bite you in the ass, Crowley. “You’re strong, but I’m stronger” “…for now” how do you ground the Darkness and not think that that’s gonna come back around some day.

Oh good. Misha’s done with whatever he was up to that prevented him from being here.

Did Dean just tell Cas to go touch grass? He’s not wrong. My boy is looking rough, and all he has done is watch TV

Ok. So it took an extra episode for the Lizzie Borden fanatic to die ☹️

Oh. Oh, Cassy. He’s been watching reruns of trash tv to stave off his thoughts and memories 😭

The look, the horrible dawning realization that he’s found Metatron, and Metatron’s working as a camera operator for the news

I know this wallpaper. This is the wallpaper from the Changing Channels episode

We’re back to exorcising demons?? Wellllllllll maybe not

It’s important that a growing teen learn some good cat memes

I’ve been checking out the lamps in hell, and they are really nice. There are a bunch of like art nouveau shades, they’re gorgeous

Omg he’s not even doing it for the news, he’s like a tragedy paparazzi. He might even be orchestrating it

Man, if this old asylum is where Crowley’s been hanging out or has an entrance to hell…it REALLY shows how much wreckage Amara caused in the demon ranks

I’m glad that SOMEONE ELSE has addressed the fact that every time someone mentions (or I type) the Darkness, I feel like we’re talking about the band for a second…I do wish it was someone other than Metatron

I mean, maybe don’t bait Cas into hitting you, Mets

Sure, Crowley, we’ll call what you and Dean had BROmance

Yeah, i guess that when the Darkness said “we’ll always help each other” or something like that, it cuts both ways. It’s not just a threat to Dean. She’ll protect him too…or she’s just mad at Crowley. I dunno

I’ll piece together what the parallels of Cas and Sam’s fights mean at some point, especially since Cas had to be baited into fighting and then really went on the offensive and ends up not killing Metatron while Sam goes in looking for a fight, tries to be a pacifist, and ends up killing a few demons. Cas was also having visions back at the bunker and Sam…well, he’s having them now

The indignity of having to keep your phone charged IS rough, Metatron, I know…

I AM UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE ENERGY WE’VE BROUGHT INTO HELL TODAY. Amara is very in love with Dean (who on this show isn’t?)

What is the lore in this show?!?! The Darkness is god’s SISTER??? (I can’t believe we’re getting this reveal when I’m so close to season 4 of Sherlock)

Why are you getting visions of the cage, Sammy??

“Xmas Special”

Plot Description: the Doctor and Clara are trapped on an arctic base and their only hope is Santa Claus!

Oh good, I waited til really late to watch another long dw episode

These elves are so mean to her!!

What a brilliant time for the Doctor to show up, seconds after Clara tells the very real Santa that she stopped believing in fairy tales

Is Santa a time lord? His sack of toys is obviously bigger on the inside…

You know what gets me about shows and movies that are meant to be for families that discuss the existence of Santa? And this might be a more recent phenomenon. But aside from the weird mechanics of adults who don’t believe in Santa still somehow finding presents under the tree from Santa on Christmas morning because of course he exists in this universe….but you’re also showing these shows to your like 5 year old who’s just learned through watching that there comes a time you stop believing in Santa even though they’re only now at an age where they can recognize Santa. It’s just weird and I have no idea if that paragraph made sense

Wtf is going on at this arctic base? Why can’t she look or think about these beings in the infirmary??

Ah damn…the Doctor and Clara fucked it up for these people. Whatever they were tying to accomplish, they just BARGE IN

LOW BLOW, DOC! You can’t bring up Danny, and you REALLY can’t insinuate that he’d be cheating on Clara. It’s too soon for her and it’ll pretty much always be too soon for her

Omg they’re really are gonna get saved by Santa…..he just sent an army of toys into this base

I’m usually not a huge fan of how Santa gets depicted in Christmas specials (not in a “this doesn’t fit my headcanon” but more in a “he’s just uninteresting” way) but this one’s at least a little fun and interesting.

I really think he’s a time lord

…I forgot they didn’t know they lied to each other…I forgot they lied to each other at the end of the last episode

I do love that they keep saying Twelve looks like a magician

He’s got a point…it would definitely be offensive, as an extraterrestrial, to find out we have a horror movie called Alien. Then again, we have a lot of horror movies named a lot of things, so…anyway “no wonder you keep getting invaded” is a good reaction

Ah, fuck. The Dream Crab got Clara.

I know this is the Doctor trying to save her, but in this perfect dream world, it’s super jarring to see the hallway walls turn into chalkboards with “DYING!” written all over them

Oh good. The Doctor has come to actually save her….excuse me?? He let himself get taken by the Dream Crabs too??

Huh…so the only way to kill them is to reject the dream

THEY DID AN INCEPTION?? The Doctor and Clara were in a dream but everyone’s been in a dream since the beginning? Since they all got into the infirmary??

He’s so against any real touchy freely stuff, and I am forever living for that

…nah, there’s still 18 more minutes. How…I don’t like this existential crisis they’re giving me “no one ever knows they’re not dreaming m. Not ever. Not for one second of our lives” don’t do that to my brain. Please

Stop physically reaching out to them!! What is wrong with you people?!

Have we really circled back to Santa’s real?? We spent a bunch of time proving he wasn’t real in the last dream, and he still might not be because this is still another dream but who knows??

This girl has an interesting Christmas itinerary. She’s gonna watch Alien and The Thing From Another World before her dad comes around. Then she’ll watch Miracle on 34th Street before what I can only imagine is a Game of Thrones marathon…and last “forgive Dave???”…which she’s somehow apparently already done that last one

Please tell me this isn’t yet another dream. What??? It’s been 62 years since they’ve seen each other??? It was another dream. When did Steven Moffat watch Inception? Did he wait four years? Because the number of levels of the dream were just too much. And then the tangerine at the end, like the spinning top.

[moon-catto]

Wondering about Gojo's having a super introverted S/O

Because I'm really suck at socializing with people in real life. I'm literally stuttering even when I'm trying to say a simple good morning like bruh, twenty one years of living and suffering and this is what I've become? I'm beyond disappointed with my life. My ten year old nephew is having a better social life than me smh 😒

Warning: hurt/comfort. Mention of panic attacks, trust issues and insecurities.

Masterlist

The first time Gojo realized he likes you is when he talked to you. And by talking i mean a lot.

You're more of a listener rather than a speaker. You love hearing stories from people and Gojo never bored you, always fascinated you when he talks about the curse he fought earlier, this new dessert shop, and a stray cat that looked a lot like Megumi.

He always like to talk too much, so he's afraid he annoyed you but he found you listening to him so attentively, paying attention at the little things he mentioned. You even remembered and bought the spesific flavor of kikufuku he liked or how he doesn't like the crust of the bread.

And his heart skipped a beat whenever your eyes gazes at him with so much attention and when you laugh at something he said, it just made his day. Oh wow, it's actually nice when someone appreciated you like this. He thought. So he did the same to you.

Listening to your small stories and taking notes on what you like then proceeds to buy it the next day.

Anyway, Gojo who is a pure extrovert and loud 24/7 is having a crush on an awkward bean like you and me is something you would never expected, like ever.

So it's safe to say that you're confused as to why this tall and fine 😫 ass paint brush is suddenly flirting with you so shamelessly while desperately asking you on a date that he almost cried. Just kidding, he cried on his way home though lmaoooo

You're having a crisis on this because sir??? Are you blind? What made you even fall in love with me? I'm literally an invisible wallflower??

It's basically you're overthinking this and suspect he might've had some ulterior motives behind all of his questionable actions. Maybe you read too many wattpads and think he placed some bet on you with some rich ass kids or something.

Cause ahem, trust issues and our beloved ✨insecurities✨. Honestly, same tho.

So it's like a chase between you and him. You dodging his advances to save your heart and him suffering inside because you broke his heart daily.

Like gurl, he wanna scream his love to you so badly like how can you be so dense?? He have this heart eyes shooting at you everytime you showed in his range of vicinity.

He's thinking about showing in front of your house in the middle of the night with I LOVE YOU SO MUCH Y/N I SWEAR in a ridiculously big board written with those bright neon lights and glow in the dark pen.

But then you would think he meant it for someone else and he's back home sobbing after breaking the board into half.

You made him overthinking this too. He's thinking about so many strategies to gently approach you and gain a bit of your trust.

Because if he thinks about it, it's sad that you're that distrustful about the idea of him loving you. More like, you're scared that he actually loves you. It made his heart crushed further.

So he's determined to get closer to you and made you comfortable with him.

He asked Nanami for advices.

And Mei-Mei to give you gifts you like.

So when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he changed his outfits five times.

Used one hour to decide which perfume he used today and thinking is it fine to propose marriage to you on the first date or not.

Of course he decided not to after Nanami deadass screamed NO, YOU DUMBASS when he called him. tHanK gOD.

Anyway, you both dine at a fine restaurant and the date went smoothly until he confessed.

And the crowd goes wild!

They're cheering on you and he had no idea that it pressured you inside.

I have this nasty experience and i feel so nauseous, i just ran from the crowd because everything feels so stuffy.

So you did the same.

"I'm- i'm sorry..."

He watched in horror as your face turned pale and your fingertips trembling on the table before storming off.

And the crowd goes "Oh.... ��"

Oh he fucked up badly.

He chased after you with his heart practically jumping out of his chest at the thought of he might've scared you with his sudden confession.

"Stupid Satoru!" He scolded himself when he saw you leaning on the fence of the basketball field(?) cause it's empty at night? (Right?)

"Y/N..." He's at the verge of tears when you looked at him with glassy eyes.

He's hesitant to reach you, fear that he might scare you further.

And you're feeling guilty when he showed up with messy appearance. Hair sticking out everywhere, clothes crinkled, and his shades is a bit crooked on one side.

"S-sorry, i-"

"No, no. " He cut you off gently. "I'm the one who's sorry, i have no idea that i was pressuring you." He sighed and blinked several times to prevent his tears from gliding over his face—he looked pathetic and pathetic he is, because not only he failed to impress you, he's also scaring you with his self-proclaimed perfectly made date plan.

"I'm so fucking sorry... " In the end he can't contain his own worry so he cried :(

And that's when you realized that he's actually genuinely have feelings for you.

So you hesitantly coming towards him, wiping his tears with your trembling palms.

"D-dont cry... " Your voice cracked at the perfect timing /sarcastic.

Ah, you just made him cry louder.

Anyway that's how your first date ended with both of you chilling in the ice cream parlor nearby with puffy eyes and stuffy nose.

It was truly an unforgettable memory.

After that day, he thought he lost his chance with you forever.

But you surprised him by saying yes after some days.

And he cried. Again.

Boi, he becomes a crybaby whenever he's with you.

He can't help it, you turn him into a softie now.

So take responsibility he said >:(

It's a new relationship with new challenges and uncertainties ahead of you.

But with him beside you, you think you can go through it all.

Damn these midnight thoughts put tears on my eyes. This should've been a bit longer but i will post the rest at part two :3

Masterlist

[graciegoeskrazy]

Opening Doors

Paring(s): Chris Evans x Teen!Actress!Reader

Warnings: SO MUCH ANGST, all of it is them acting but still

Word Count:  1019

A/N: Currently back on audition grind lol. I'm not booking anything but that's how it be ig. I hope you enjoy. I kind of liked how this one turned out! Please do not repost my works. This is my ONLY writing account. 

Bold = readers notes in script

Italics = the scene/lines

6 months. 4 callbacks. Countless meetings on Zoom. It was finally time. 

Today was your final screen test for a new feature film starring Chris Evans. This was something you knew would take your career to a different level. This was a serious film, about death, abandonment, and other topics that some would assume were too much for your age. You were only 13 but more than ready to take on this roll. Sitting in the makeup trailer getting ready to go, you read over your script as many times as possible before heading in. In the past, you’ve tried to take mental pictures in your head of the blocking or the lines it self to remember the scene, but when your so close to the actual audition, all you can do is go over it as many times as possible before you get thrown onto a lot in front of a camera. 

Now all done, you were guided to set. You met with the director, a very nice lady by the name of Joanna, and some other cast and crew before being told you were to read with Chris Evans.

Holy Shit. 

He was much taller in person. He was super smiley and shook your hand and gave a few laughs here and there. It was exactly life you expected, but still a super different personality than his character in the film. He showed you the set and him along with an assistant director showed you your blocking and what to expect. It was go time.

Walk through the door. Cup and hand. Casually walk towards the couch. 

“Room, Laura. Now.”

Sit on the Couch.

“I’m 14. You said it yourself, I'm too old to be grounded.”

Pull out phone

“Laura, I’m not joking. Go.

“I’m not joking either.”

“Oh my god, why do you ruin everything?”

Don’t pay too much attention to Kal. One eye roll at most. Laura is used to this.

“Don’t act like you're not guilty of that too.”

“You ruin everything Laura. My house. My life. My marriage.”

“Oh my god,”

Cross to the right. Leave the couch. Cup in sink. Lean on the counter.

”it’s been 8 years and somehow you’re still convinced that I ruined your already shitty love life.”

“You did. You and your no good, needy-self ruined it.”

Laura gets angrier.

“Are you kidding me? Yeah sure. Someone as a toddler is capable of ruining your love-less relationship.”

“Will you stop? For once? And realize what you did?”

Shrug.

“Why do you think your mom left Laura? Because of you! Because you were, and still are a pain in the ass to everyone and can’t fucking take care of herself.”

Cross too face Kal. Let it all unleash.

“I was six you asshole! I did nothing!”

“You did everything wrong. You were a burden to everyone.”

Watch Kal cross. Brief moment of silence. Continue.  

“If I’m such a burden on your life why don’t you just send me off to my mother, huh?! I’m sure you’d be a whole lot happier, wouldn't you?”

“Maybe! Because instead I wouldn’t have to deal with a needy brat like you!”

Here it comes. Go for it Y/n. Go. 

“WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH? I was six when she left! Did it ever occur to you that maybe it wasn’t me who made her leave? You can't fathom or accept the truth because in your mind, she was the perfect woman for you. Your high school sweetheart. This shiny little Barbie doll that was meant to be the love of your life! Well guess what, she was far from it. In reality she was a horrible person. She was someone who came home drunk every night because she was depressed. She was young. She had her whole life ahead of her and she wanted more and everything was perfect until you showed up-“

“Stop it, Laura.”

“You changed her path, you were the one who convinced her to do those terrible things.”

“Stop.”

“It was never me, it was never my fault. It was always you!”

slap

…

Why is nobody calling cut? Why is it so silent? Jesus, that felt so amazing. Holy shit. Wait, was it awful? Shit. Why is nobody speaking?!

“Okay kid you got the part.”

Thunderous applause. You’ve never heard an atmosphere change so quickly. Was this real life? Am I really awake? Apparently so. You felt yourself come back to life when Chris gave you a hug.

“Congratulations, Y/N! That was amazing! I can't wait.”

You felt your mouth start to feel dry after keeping it open for so long. Still in shock. This had to be the best day of your life.

✨Masterlist✨

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ prompt: "I got you breakfast. I know it's just a bowl of cereal, but it's the only thing I can't burn." / "Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you."

♡ pairing: percy jackson x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / I was listening to Theme from New York, New York by Frank Sinatra and felt like it fit Percy so well. I feel like all of Percy's vibe just screams Frank Sinatra in some way.

you always found it odd that so many kids from the Aphrodite cabin had told you that they felt you and Percy were bound to be together. at the time, you found it almost offensive considering he was dating Annabeth but a few months after, you along with everyone else heard that they had broken up.

you felt like you weren't within your rights to ask why they broke up, even if he was your close friend, and just waited until he told you himself. you found it surprising. everyone in the camp felt as though Annabeth and Percy were going to make it all the way to marriage but when he told you that they had fallen out of love, you sat in shock.

it had been a few months since then and while they remained friends, you could tell Annabeth was already going on a few dates herself, to which you felt happy for her. all the while, Percy hadn't seemed interested in anyone. you knew a lot of people would fall at the knees to date him but you couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't accepted any.

"whatcha doin'?" you heard Percy ask, practically barging into your room. you looked up from your notebook, shaking your head, "not much, why?" you asked. he pulled something out of his pocket, "my mom, Paul, and I are going to watch the Yankee's game and we have a spare ticket. wanna come along?"

you smiled, immediately getting up and pushing your chair in.

"hell yeah I want to go! lets go Jackson," you said, kicking him in the back of the leg as he passed you the ticket. you saw the time and stood confused, "the tickets say seven and it's only three?" you asked. he pushed you along as the two of you walked out of the camp.

"my mom wants to catch pizza before the game. she claims we haven't spent enough time together lately."

you giggled, "please, that's so sweet. being the daughter of Ares, it's not exactly something he'd want to do....ever," Percy shoved you but didn't press it any longer. he knew your dad was an asshole and so were all your siblings and he meant that in the most respectful way possible.

the subway ride to Percy's mom's place was filled with you and Percy talking about anything and everything. you knew Percy could've told any of the boys to come along so you found it a bit endearing to know that he picked you to come along. you were also meeting his mom for the first time so you were a bit nervous on that end.

"my sister should be awake. she's usually up and trying to crawl around this time." your eyes widened realizing he was talking about Estelle. you knew she was only a few months old and meant that she was not walking yet, "oh my god, a baby!" you clapped happily as you walked up the stairs.

Sally's apartment stood at the very top of the building and you heard giggles coming from the other side of the door. Percy practically barged into the apartment, seeing Estelle on the ground as Sally tried fixing her onesie.

"hey mom!" he said bending down to grab Estelle as Sally stood up, " you must be ( your name ), nice to meet you," she said excitedly as she brought you in for a hug. you were taken back by the sudden hug but returned it, "nice to meet you as well. is that your daughter?" you asked, the itching feeling to wanting to hold her creeping up.

she nodded, grabbing Estelle and handing her over to you, "oh my god, you're precious. Percy, she's adorable!" you exclaimed, instantly making her jump in your arms. Percy gave you a smile as you looked to Sally, "is she attending the game? looks like she's ready with her little gear," you asked as you saw the Yankee's onesie on her.

Sally agreed, saying that she didn't want to separate from Estelle from too long. you helped Sally put Estelle's jacket and hat on as Percy and Paul spoke with each other, "she's so cute, I can't handle it," you tried not to squeal as Sally laughed, "fan of babies?" she asked.

you shrugged, "I wouldn't say fan but infants are just so cute," you gushed, squishing Estelle's cheeks. all of you walked out as you had her in your arms while Percy tried making her laugh.

Paul and Sally watched as they smiled to each other, "they'd make great parents," Paul murmured as Sally agreed, "not right now but in five years, I wouldn't mind seeing grandkids," you were paying no mind as you and Percy were in your own little world with his sister.

the ride to Yankee stadium was a short one as everyone was crowded around each other. all of you got quickly scanned in and sat towards the front of the crowd. you sat in between Percy and Sally as you had Estelle on your leg. you knew Paul and Percy were the bigger fans as you and Sally went along for the fun time. you knew the basics of baseball but you like Sally were confused on some parts.

the rivalry ran deep as the Yankee's were playing the Red Sox's and you could tell both of the boys were getting extremely into the game. Paul and Percy screaming to a few Sox's fans with words you were surprised that Percy even said in front of his mom. you looked over to Sally and started laughing as you heard both of the heavy New York accents coming out of them.

"I don't think I've ever seen Percy this invested in anything....ever," you murmured to Sally as she agreed, "he was a fan when he was a child but he was never like this," she replied as Percy stood up again, screaming at the top of his lungs that a player was safe.

both you and Sally remained talking amongst each other, briefly getting up to get drinks for the other two. you had offered to feed Estelle her bottle as Sally sipped on a glass of wine. you knew caring for an infant was hard but you knew that she birthed Percy, someone who was probably ten times harder to deal with as a baby.

"we should get going but the two of you should stay for the rest of the game. who knows when's the next time you'll get a chance to see a game," Paul and Sally told the two of you a bit later on. you nodded understandingly, "of course, thank you inviting me," you whispered as you gave Sally a hug.

she smiled, placing a kiss on your cheek, "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around a lot more so I'll see you later," you wondered what she meant by as she turned to tell Percy goodbye. you didn't bother to ask as you felt the New York breeze start to get colder. Percy could tell as you turned over to him, "would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It probably smells like you," you asked.

Percy didn't hesitate to take off his hoodie, placing it on your lap as you quickly put it on. you were drowning it as you smelled Percy's cologne right away. he had a ocean and wood smell to him. the game was in its eighth inning, the Yankee's leading the score with 10-8. you knew Chiron would want all of you back at camp before midnight and the ride back to the camp would be long.

"wanna head back, I can tell you're getting sleepy," you heard Percy whisper in your ear. you nodded, lifting your head from his shoulder as the two of walked out of the stadium. the stars littered the sky as there was no cloud in sight, "tonight was fun. your family is so cute," you told Percy.

he smiled, "I know, it took a long time to get us here," he murmured. you gave him a smile as you felt Percy slowly slip his hand in yours. you gave him a look as he tried to hide his blush, "aw, it's Theme from New York New York by Frank Sinatra," you told him as you squeezed his hand in approval.

you heard fans drunkenly singing along to the song on the subway as you and Percy laughed, "I want to be apart of it...NEW YORK, NEW YORK," both you and Percy sang, giggling with each other. Percy was holding your side as the subway was in complete shambles with everyone singing.

"If I can make it there, I'll make it practically anywhere, It's up to you, New York, New York!"

you looked up to Percy who was already staring down at you lovingly. you felt him bend down a bit, placing a kiss on your lips as you instantly returned it.

"And find that I'm number one, Top of the list, King of the hill."

the crowd continued to sing as you gave Percy a smile and snuggled closer to him. you heard the subway ding off the stop as you and Percy hopped off. you remained in Percy's side embrace as the two of you entered the camp. most of the campers were asleep as only a few scarce campers were still awake.

Percy dropped you off at the door of the Ares cabin, "thank you for today," you whispered, giving him a kiss on the cheek. he nodded, placing one back on yours as he grabbed your hand and gave it a quick squeeze, "we should do it again," he whispered back.

you agreed, opening the door and blowing him a kiss in return before shutting it. Percy stood in place for a moment before jumping in Breakfast Club style. he walked back to his cabin, a smile plastered on his face as he fell into bed, as happy as ever.

+

you woke up the next morning, all of your siblings already gone as you heard a knock on your door. you had fell asleep with Percy's sweater on and a pair of shorts as you released a yawn of sleepiness. you walked over to the door and laughed tiredly, seeing as it was Percy.

"I got you breakfast. I know it's just a bowl of cereal, but it's the only thing I can't burn," you saw the bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and laughed as you grabbed it and sat on the steps of your cabin, "I appreciate it," you said, placing a kiss on his cheek, making his blush again.

[xxlost-cityxx]

ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS

Ship/Characters: Top!Kirishima Eijirou, Bottom!Bakugou Katsuki

TW/CW: camming(Bakugou's a camboy), rough anal sex, anal fingering, choking, spanking, begging, crying, overstimulation, praising, degrading, enthusiastic consent

Summary: Bakugou's famous for being in the top 3 best doms for a camboy porn site, but as he tries to out rank an up and rising couple, his fans get to see the moment he realises he's a submissive bottom

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

Katsuk has been a camboy for a little over 2 years now, starting right off the bat once he graduated high school. As he was 18 and living on his own and with a low paying job, he quickly realized he needed another source of income to live even slightly comfortably in today's world. Then came a random ad that just so happened to catch his eye, a porn site catching a lot of popularity, a few cam stars seeming to live a life of luxury from simply filming themselves for anyone to see. 

Katsuki had to try it out. 

He's had his fair share of horny old men groping him out in public, so why not get paid for them to watch him instead? 

That plan was one of his best ideas yet. He rose to fame so quickly he choked on water after posting his 4th video ever, seeing that his rough, aggressive attitude turned a lot of people on. A lot meant 14,000 at the time. A month into camming and he was making over 54,000 yen a week! And now, with nearly 500,000 perverts at his mercy, it was much more. He started live streaming last year, and it went amazing. Until a new couple joined the camming business. Suddenly 'loving boyfriend rails his curvy brown haired slut' was all anyone wanted to see. This broccoli headed bitch stole half the damn site from almost every other cammer out there! 

So there was only one thing Katsuki could do now. 

He had to fuck someone on one of his streams. 

He blew up the first time he fucked a flesh light, degrading the inanimate object like no tomorrow, easily being labeled one of the best doms out there. So the only way to get back on top was to dom a real person. 

But he wasn't going to fuck one of his weird ass fans, god no. He needed to find someone close to him who would keep their mouth shut. 

After brainstorming and browsing the most popular porn categories, he got an idea. The best way to narrow down his options for what type of person he'd need is by his audience. He quickly went to his profile insights, his eyes narrowing as over 60% were females. He quickly smirked, easily going back to the most popular categories and filtering out what he didn't want to do and what his audience wouldn't be into. And the one that came out ontop, was gay shit. Katsuki was going to dom a guy. And if it meant coming out on top over all the useless cammers, he'd fuck the shit out of a twink. 

"Sorry man, I would've considered it back when we first graduated, but Hitoshi and Kyo would rather stab you than let me take your dick up my ass." Denki said, casually sighing and taking a sip of his coffee. The elders around the coffee shop gasped, giving nasty side eyes which Katsuki couldn't care less about. "What!?" He nearly shouted, Sero and Mina covering their mouths to prevent any laughter from coming out to the point their faces were turning red. 

"Why not ask Sero-" "-Oh hell no! I'm not letting Katsudon fuck me on camera!" Sero shouted, ignoring Bakugou's glare from calling him Katsudon. 

"You really need to fuck a guy for this? Why not stick to your usual content? No.2 is better than much else, right?" "Hell no! I'm the best and I'm going to prove I'm the fuckin' best! Denki's the only twink I know, so help me find another!" Katsuki yelled, a few families being rushed out of the shop. 

After going through everyone that fit Bakugou's qualifications. They had nothing. Bakugou was ready to tear someone's head off at this point. After doing so much research, he didn't have the final piece. 

"Hey Mina, you're a chick. What do you suggest 'suki do?" Denki sighed, folding in on himself. "I mean, we do love our gay shit man." He said in an inhale. "But why not get fucked instead? We know way more doms than we do twinks." She said, tilting her head. "Oh- Hell no!" Bakugou shouted, Sero wincing. "I'm the best fuckin' dom on this shitting porno site and I'm going to prove it!" "Sounds like a bratty bottom to me." Sero mumbled. 

After more shouting and arguing. Kirishima finally arrived. "Sorry, my last client had a lot of knots in their back and thighs! Took a lot longer than I expected." He said with his happy smile, still wearing his scrubs and smelling like coconut oil. "Eiji~! Gimme a deep tissue massage!" Denki whined, rushing over and jumping face first into the bed. "He just gave massages all day dude, give him a break.." Sero mumbled, shaking his head. 

And it was like a light bulb. His brain flashing to massage porn intro's being in the top 100 categories. "Kirishim!" Bakugou shouted firmly, standing up straight. Kiri froze, slowly turning to look at him with fearful eyes. "Y-Yes…?" "Let me fuck you for my cam stream." And it went dead silent. 

And that's how they're here. Setting up the ring lights, almond oil on the shelves and a small white towel for Bakugou to cover his ass with. The plan was that Eijirou would get handsy during the massage and Katsuki would turn around and start domming him. Kirishima is bigger than Bakugou in the height and muscle department, but that was only going to make the plot better. Eijrou definitely wasn't telling him something. After hesitating to agree in the first place, and only after Bakugou promised a share of the money, Kirishima was just so...unnatural at this situation, his movements starting off as more dominating until he took it down to a submissive level.   

Katsuki started the live, giving his quickly joining fans a cocky smirk before standing up, walking back and laying down on the black table. 

The comments were filled with surprise and questions as to who the red haired hulk was beside the table, but they went unanswered. 

Kirishima grabbed the bottle of almond oil, pouring some into his hands and quickly starting on Katsuki's thighs, gently rubbing into the muscles with experienced ease. 

Bakugou's eyes widened at the feeling, his core already getting hot with desire. And as Kirishima's fingers went under the towel to his inner thighs, he fought a gasp. Comments filled with perverted comments telling the redhead to get more handsy and to give the blond a hand job with all the oil. 

But as Eijirou put a knee on the table and nearly climbed over Katsuki to perfectly get his back, Katsuki started panting at the feeling. It wasn't the massage that was getting him. It was the feeling of Eijirou's crotch rubbing against the thin towel, his cock slightly hard underneath his black scrubs. 

As it was about time for the script to move onto Katsuki domming Kirishima, Bakugou was stifling whimpers of shock and embarrassment. His cock aching for him to fuck Kirishima…..actually. His body was aching to be fucked by Kirishima. 

As Katsuki was turned around, His eyes were teary, his fans taking quick, shocked notice and flooding the comments with surprise, degrading, perverted insults about how he looked like a twink instead. 

Kirishima's eyes slightly widened at the sight, and as Bakugou swallowed his embarrassment and shock, he focused on his arousal and his own perverse desires. "F-Fuck me….instead.." He whispered, his eyes slightly squinting and blurring with tears. 

Before he knew it, Eijirou was leaning over top of him with a slick hand around his neck. Bakugou couldn't help but moan at the pressure, his stream struggling to keep up with the influx of viewers and comments about the top 3 best doms getting put in his place by a rando. 

Bakugou's mind wasn't on the donations anymore, not on the follower count or his ranking at this point. He was gasping for air as Kirishima roughly kissed and bit at his body, keeping an iron grip on Katsuki's neck. "Oh fuck yes- Was hoping to god I would be able to fuck your tight ass one day-!" Kirishima breathed against his skin, licking up his nipple to his jaw and nipping at him. 

He suddenly ripped himself off the blonde, walking over to the camera and grabbing it, making a winky face at the viewers as he moved the camera to get a better view of Bakugou teary eyed, flushed and a line of red, darkening hickies and bites. 

He got back on the table, roughly gripping Katsuki's thighs and harshly pushing them apart, an action that would probably make some other guy pull a muscle. He wrapped his arms around his spread thighs, pulling his hips up to meet his crotch, the pale skin against his dark black scrubs finally letting Bakugou and the viewers know what the newbie was packing, and it was a lot. 

"H-Holy fuck-" Bakugou whispered out as his towel was ripped off of him, oil being grabbed off the table and the cap popped open. Kirishima paused, looking up to Bakugou, a silent plea for last minute permission. Katsuki's red eyes met crimson, and he swiftly nodded his head, accidentally earning more donations from the show of submission. 

Eijirou lathered his fingers in oil, tracing the blond's pink hole carefully, giving the camera another adjustment so the viewers could see his perfect view as well; a red faced, teary eyed dom with his tight ass being slicked up so nicely. 

The oil made Katsuki's muscle relax easily, becoming soft under the thick tanned finger, and as he swiftly plunged in the singular finger, Katsuki gasped with shock, his eyes going wide at the foregin feeling. 

Kirishima slowly pumped his finger, adding slightly more oil every time his muscle got a bit too tight, slipping in more fingers every time his rim was soft. It felt like such a short amount of time between preparing to dom his best friend to being finger fucked by him. Eijirou's forearm had veins slightly protruding as he slammed his fingers into his friend at a pace that made vibrators look pathetic. Katsuki's pretty little back was arched so nicely, his muscles flexing and his toes curling, tears falling from his eyes as moan after moan was ripped from him. 

"P-Please! I can't! I can't take it anymore!" He finally sobbed, shaking his head at the man's brutal pace, purposely avoiding his prostate after hitting it every couple times. 

Kirishima smirked, slowly sliding his fingers out only to slide his thumbs inside, stretching the soft muscle as he pleased, showing off the blond's perfectly hot pink insides, his swollen rim slick and twitching. "So nice and pretty for me, hm? You wanna take my fat cock for the first time? Expose how much of a slut you are for cock? For my cock?" Kirishima said seductively, moving the camera again. 

Katsuki nodded his head rapidly, his eyes glued to the hard to see bulge under his black scrubs. "Use your words, baby." Eijirou said firmly, palming himself. "Y-Yes- I want it-! I w-want your fat cock-!" He said, face flushing with embarrassment again. "Good boy~" He cooed, finally grabbing the hem of his pants and pulling them down. 

It was almost like he struggled to pull the front down far enough, his cock just kept following, and once it finally got over his tip, his penis sprung up to lightly slap against his stomach before it weighed itself down. The camera got Bakugou's surprise and shock perfectly, the comments finally going quiet, almost as if everyone had to take in what they were seeing as well. 

Kirishima grabbed the base of his cock, lifting it and letting it slap against Bakugou's hole, earning a slightly muffled whimper from the blond. He gently moved his hips, letting his cock slide smoothly against his hole, his tip teasing the smaller's balls. The comments were filled with encouragement and orders to get on with it. 

Kirishima chuckled darkly, letting his tip catch on the rim, slowly pushing in. Bakugou's eyebrows furrowed before his mouth dropped and eyes widened with the pressure. He let out a guttural moan, his legs starting to shake. 

As Eijirou bottomed out with a groan, Katsuki was shaking and whimpering, his own well endowed cock red and dripping precome. 

The redhead pulled out before slamming back in, the blond shooting up with shock only to be met with a hand on his neck again, pinning him down as the Kirishima harshly forced his way between Bakugou's legs even more, only giving the blond a couple seconds to adjust before he started snapping his hips into the smaller man's ass. Bakugou took in one breath of air before lewd moans poured from him, his voice cracking every time his skin was slapped with another brutal thrust. 

"Agh- P-Please-!" Katsuki nearly screamed out, Eijirou grabbing the back of his knees and pressing them back to meet his shoulders, effectively putting him in a mating press. "Please what, baby? Tell me what you fucking want!" Eijirou growled out, groaning as Katsuki's tight, slicked up boy cunt tried to milk him, pulsing and sucking him in with every movement. "I-I want it harder! Please- Please fuck me harder! Give me more!" Bakugou nearly sobbed, looking at where their bodies were connected with teary wide eyes. "Such a fuckin' slut-! Making all these people think you were a fucking dom, only to start begging for the first fat cock you see! Want it harder? Wanna feel my fat dick in you for days?" He growled, eagerly moving to grab Katsuki's ankles and awkwardly spreading them over Katsuki's head before turning him, ripping his cock out of his pillowy ass and nearly picking the blond up by his ass, grabbing the nape of his neck and forcing him on his knees with his head down. 

He slammed back in, the blond nearly screaming once again as he set another brutal pace. "Y-Yes! Please, god yes! Fuck me more! Don't stop!" Katsuki sobbed, drool and tears staining his lewd face. "Wouldn't fucking dream of it! You love having your little boy cunt fucked, huh? Love how I fucking ruin you on this dick?" Kirishima growled, slapping a hand down on his fat ass, groaning loudly at the sight of all the excess muscle and fat jiggle even more. 

Katsuki's ass slapped against Eijirou's abs every time he slammed into the boy, his back muscles looking so pretty at this angle. 

"Oh shit- I'm gonna cum! Please make me cum! Don't fucking stop~!" Bakugou moaned, arching his back and lifting his ass up higher so Eijirou could hit his prostate at the best angle. "Haven't even touched your cock and you're gonna cum? Fucking do it! Cum on this cock, make it yours and I'll fuck you every day!" Kirishima promised, sharpening his thrusts to where all Bakugou could do is claw at the padded table and scream, staring into the camera as his orgasm was building higher and higher. 

"I- Fuck! I'm fucking cummin'!" Bakugou screamed, his body shaking under Kirishima as his thrusts went unbroken, hurtling Katsuki into overstimulation. He started screaming for relief, but as Kirishima planted his hands into the curvature of Bakugou's spine, he started thrusting purely for his own relief. Groaning and growling above a sobbing Katsuki. "S-Stop! I can't! Slow down~ Please!" Katsuki begged, his cock trying to harden again. His body was on fire, every nerve fried with pleasure he'd never experienced, and Katsuki knew he was addicted. 

"Almost fuckin' there! Gonna cum in your ass- Claim you, make you mine!" Eijirou groaned out, his balls drawing up tight as his own climax ripped through him, filling up the man's stomach with his cum. 

He slowly pulled out, Katsuki in the same position even after Eijirou let go of him. He grabbed the camera, pointing it at Bakugou's gaping and cum filled hole, watching how he pulsed against nothing, forcing the cum to leak out of him despite his angle. 

Not only did Katsuki make absolute bank while taking monster cock like a slut, he took the No.1 spot by over a thousand followers and ratings. 

[nsheetee]

109 Steps To You

this is a part of the “almost” collaboration hosted by @hyucksie​

Pairing: Haechan x Reader Genre: romance, fluff, angst, mature content, soulmate!AU, college!AU Length: 19k Summary: Everyone is born with two marks on their body: one that is identical to your soulmate’s, and one that is identical to the person who will cause you immense pain. No one knows which mark means what until they live out their life and meet the people destined to bring them love and hurt. However, you were only born with one mark. Out of all the places you thought you would meet the person with the mark identical to yours, you never thought it would be on your first day of college. Warnings/Details: female reader, mentions of other nct members (and yuqi from g-idle), explicit sex (unprotected + the consequences that come with it), mentions of a dysfunctional family, swearing

— read epilogue here

a/n: if you’re a minor: beware! there is explicit and mature content in this fic.

“I want to thank you guys, again, for helping me out today.” You shyly announce to the table, swirling your spoon through your froyo and glancing back and forth between the other people sitting before you.

“Oh, it’s no problem, we weren’t doing anything today anyway.” Xiaojun softly knocks his elbow into yours, sending a reassuring smile your way. If it wasn’t for Xiaojun, an old childhood friend, you weren’t sure how moving into your dorm room and getting settled into campus would’ve gone; you would probably still be a mess right now.

“He’s right. Plus, I really wanted to meet the girl Jun kept raving about, he wouldn’t stop talking about how much we would like you-” Mark’s comment is quickly cut off, a thud under the table and a pained look on Mark’s face giving away that Xiaojun just kicked him.

“I just hope I lived up to the hype.” You laugh at their antics.

“Oh, definitely,” Yuqi quickly buts in before Mark can retaliate back at Xiaojun, “And I live a few floors below you, so just let me know if you need anything at all.” She adds on, her warm deposition and all around friendliness from today making you let out a small sigh of relief, some stress falling off your shoulders when you realize just how many people around you are here to help you out.

“I appreciate it so much, really.” You lean away from Xiaojun and Mark, closer to Yuqi and Lucas who are sitting on the other side of the table, “By the way, I love your guys’ marks. They look so good on both of you.”

At your comment, Lucas puts down his phone and gently grabs Yuqi’s hand, their matching chamomile flower marks touching as their fingers intertwine. You almost didn’t notice their matching marks earlier today when they were helping you set up your dorm room, but when you did, you couldn’t help but stop what you were doing and stare at their hands. Such a simple mark has never looked so pretty to you, maybe it’s because Lucas and Yuqi made such a good pair that their fated marks looked so right for them.

“I still wish I got a cool dragon mark down my back, but I’ll let Jun be the one to deal with that in this life.” Lucas smirks at Xiaojun, who just rolls his eyes at Lucas’ fake jealousy. “Yours looks good, too.” He finishes and glances down at your left hand. There, a dragonfly mark stains your skin, the long tail trailing over your thumb and the wings spreading out over the back of your hand and your wrist.

“Thank you.” Your reply is genuine, however you can’t help but remember the solemn fact that surrounds your mark, your voice inadvertently dipping down as your eyes trace over the wings of your dragonfly.

“So, what kind of classes are you taking this semester?” Xiaojun changes the subject, no doubt hearing the lament in your voice.

“Oh, just some required classes. Nothing for my major, really, except Intro to Ethics for my humanities credit.” You reply as casually as you can to bring the mood at the table back up, but your comment makes Yuqi gasp and all four pairs of eyes at the table turn to you. You slouch in your seat at their sudden attention on you.

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Do you know your advisor's email? Let’s send them a message right now to get you out-”

“Stop.” You shake your head, laughing a bit at the overreaction from your new friends, “What’s wrong with Ethics?”

“It’s in the Hauss building.” Xiaojun says as if you should already know what that means. You roll your lips in and shake your head; you do not know what that means at all.

“It’s the building all the way on top of the big hill on the west side of campus, by the auditorium.” Xiaojun explains more.

“They only teach three classes over there: Ethics and Music Theory 3 and 4.” Mark sets down his melted froyo, not realizing he has some sticking to his upper lip.

“I’m failing to see what’s so horrible about that?”

“When Xiaojun says it’s a big hill, he means it’s a really big hill-”

“Didn’t someone count the steps once and it came out to be, like, close to 100?” Lucas asks, one hand still tangled with Yuqi’s and the other now rapidly slurping his triple chocolate froyo.

“That was me, and it’s 109 steps.” Mark shutters, “I took Music Theory 3 last year and I ended up skipping half of the time because I couldn’t find the energy to climb up and down those steps three times a week.”

“Why 109? Aren’t groups of steps usually in even numbers? That’s not very architecturally smart.” Yuqi purses her lips and her eyebrows screw together.

“Screw architecture. Are you telling me I’ll have to climb up and down 109 stairs three times a week just to go to Ethics?” You can already feel a headache growing at the back of your head when you think about the complications of dealing with this big staircase. You needed that class for your major, and you thought it was going to be a class that you could pass with flying colors, but it seems like it might just be a nuisance to you more than an easy A.

“Talk to your advisor. Try to drop out and take a different class. Trust me, 109 steps don’t seem like much until you actually have to climb them.” Mark gives you his piece of advice, sticking his spoon filled with froyo into his mouth and then immediately scrunching his eyes and mumbling about brain freeze.

You’ll have to send an e-mail to your advisor real quick, but for your first day of classes tomorrow, you’ll just have to deal with those 109 steps.

The walk to your ethics class the next morning is very calming, the university’s nice landscaping and the warm weather calming your nerves down for your first day of classes. When you round the corner of the stonewall you had been following, you’re met with the infamous set of steps.

You have to crane your neck to look up at the top of the staircase, your jaw slightly dropping at how steep of a hill the stairs were built on. There are other students around you walking up and down the staircase, their headphones shoved in their ears and their heads down as they make the climb to and from class.

The stonewall you had been following all the way here continues up the staircase on your right and on the left is a thick wall of trees, their branches hanging over the stairs and giving protection from the sunlight to the students below. You begin to count every step on your way up; four regular steps, the fifth one a bit longer than the rest, and then repeat. It’s not that you don’t trust Mark’s words when he said there’s 109 steps, you just want to count for yourself.

You hear some rowdy boys coming down the stairs, but the noise is not enough to pull your head up from the ground or to stop you from counting, until you’re forcefully pushed into the stone wall on your right. Breathing in through your teeth sharply, your left hand clutches your collarbones where the pain is the worst.

“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.” The guy laughs through his words, a high-pitched and almost squeaky laugh, making him sound not as sincere as he probably meant to be. When you turn to face him, the first thing you notice are his eyes. Chocolate colored and almond shaped, some laugh lines showing from the remnants of his shenanigans with his friends.

Looking back, you realize you fell in love with his eyes first. How they don’t hold back from showing any emotion, and the mischievousness they hold no matter what.

Even when his smile falls, his face looks pretty; long hair hanging down over his forehead and ears, and plump lips spreading into an ‘o’ shape as he looks at your dragonfly. Every line and detail is just the same as his own, as if fate spent a little more time with you two to make sure you know you’re each other’s soulmate the moment you meet.

“Your mark…” The man points at your hand, and that’s when you realize who you’ve just met. His brilliant eyes fill with excitement and he starts to breath harder, taking a step back from sheer surprise that you’re here. His soulmate. His one and only for the rest of this life.

However it all fades away the moment you drop your hand from your collarbones, stepping past him to continue up the staircase.

“Next time, watch where you’re going.” The first words you ever say to him are filled with so much indifference that Haechan can only follow your back with his eyes, his jaw slack and his hand still reaching out for you.

“Hey, wait-” Haechan is about to run after you, but he’s held back by Renjun, his best friend and the one who pushed Haechan into you in the first place.

“Was that-” Renjun begins, holding onto his friend’s elbow as he also watches you walk up the rest of the 109 steps.

“Yeah… Why did she ignore me like that? She saw that I have the same mark. We’re soulmates!” Haechan almost cries out in confusion, his heart and mind in a mess. Can you blame him? He’s been waiting to meet his soulmate since he knew what the dragonfly on his hand meant. Haechan has never been a patient person, and even waiting several years for you to come to him was testing him. Now that you’re here, he isn’t going to let you go easily.

As Haechan begins to walk back up the staircase to follow you, not caring about his Literature class in 15 minutes, Renjun’s grip on him tightens and pulls him back.

“You can’t just go harass her about this.”

“I’m not going to harass her. I just want to talk.” Haechan tries to pull out of Renjun’s grip again, but the little man has the sturdiness of a boulder and pulls his friend back.

“Maybe she doesn’t want a soulmate?” Renjun and Haechan stop their tug of war at Jaemin’s words. He had been leaning against the handrail by the trees the whole time while watching the scene unfold in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest and his baseball cap covering his eyes. “It’s not that uncommon these days.”

Haechan and Renjun let go of each other at their friend’s words. Jaemin sends them a bitter smile and all three of them recall the incident that happened last year when Jaemin met his own soulmate:

A rejection.

Jaemin took it hard; if it hadn’t been for his best friends, he doesn’t know where he would be in life right now. Jaemin can’t help but let the memories surface as he continues to walk down the stairs, slower than before, his head bowed and his hands shoved into his pant pockets. Renjun sends Haechan a look that tells him to not push the situation further, following Jaemin down the stairs.

Haechan sends your retreating figure one last look, watching you reach the top of the staircase and walk into the Hauss building. He retreats and follows his friends dejectedly, the promise of you showing up on this staircase at the same time on Wednesday being the only thing that lets his legs follow his friends down the stairs.

“Hey, ___, come in.” Mark smiles brightly when he recognizes you at the door, stepping aside to let you into the dorm room. “Xiaojun is in the shower still… Will you be okay by yourself if I leave?” He looks unsure as you set your backpack down on Xiaojun’s desk chair.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. You do whatever you need to.” You state and then plop down onto your friend’s bed. You hear Mark laugh and say something about how all the first years look tired at the end of their first day and then leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. You lay sprawled out on the bed, the only sounds surrounding you is the water from the shower and the ticking of the analog clock on the wall.

Even though the whole ordeal happened several hours ago, you haven’t been able to get the moment you met your soulmate out of your mind. It was almost impossible for you to turn around and walk away. Even now, your feet still itch to go back to that staircase and find the sweet looking guy who you no doubt left confused.

However, you can’t do that— you won’t let yourself do that. And that’s partially why you’re in Xiaojun’s dorm room after your last class today: so that he can knock some sense into you.

The shower turns off and a few moments later, the bathroom door opens and Xiaojun steps out. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one on his shoulders to catch the droplets from his hair; when he sees you laying on his bed, he jumps in fright.

“Good, God,” He sighs and clutches his bare chest with one hand, the other protectively going to the towel around his waist. “Can you say something the next time you come over? I almost had a heart attack because of you.” He walks over to his closet on the other side of the room, rummaging through some clothes as you sit up.

“Sorry, I thought you heard the door open…” You trail off, getting distracted by Xiaojun’s mark. The dragon on his back is huge, taking up most of the area and spreading to his shoulders and upper arms, too. However, that’s not the mark that caught your attention. Right on his ankle sits a three-leaf clover, so small and such a stark difference from the monster drawn on his back.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when Xiaojun turns around and walks back into the bathroom, this time leaving the door open, “So, how was your first day?”

“Oh, well, it was okay…” You trail off, speaking a bit louder so that he could hear you from the other room. You stand up and start pacing in the space between Mark’s and Xiaojun’s beds, a nervous habit of yours.

“But? I know there’s a ‘but’ somewhere.” Xiaojun replies.

“Well, something happened…” You trail off, not sure how to make the words leave your mouth yet.

“What is it?” You swallow at the question, your throat dry and hands clammy. You must’ve been taking a long time to answer because Xiaojun walks out of the bathroom, now fully clothed, and stares at your pacing form. “What’s wrong, ___.”

“I met him.” You say simply, hoping Xiaojun gets what you mean, but he doesn’t. You sigh and sink down to the floor slowly, catching yourself on Xiaojun’s bed. The action makes his eyes widen in fear and he crosses the room in a few short strides, kneeling down next to you and searching your eyes for the answer.

“What? What is it?”

“The person with the same mark as me. I met him.”

“... Oh.”

Xiaojun slowly slides down onto his butt in front of you, folding his legs. He’s not sure what to say, or how to comfort you in anyway. He didn’t expect to be the only person around that you trust when something like this happens. He sees the lost look in your eyes and slides towards you to pull you into a hug.

Unlike Xiaojun, and most people in the world, you do not have two marks.

Xiaojun’s dragon and clover match with two different people in this world; one who will be his soulmate and the other who will bring him immense pain. Everyone has two marks— except you; it even states it on your birth certificate, your parents can testify that they’ve never seen a second mark on you, just the lonely dragonfly that spreads its wings over your left hand.

When you were younger, you were curious about what it meant to only have one mark. The people around you always had two marks, the people on the TV shows you liked to watch always had two marks, even anatomy books have depictions of humans with two marks. Why were you different? What did it mean?

After gathering up the guts to type the question into the Google search engine, you found your answers, and it changed your thoughts on your one and only mark forever. The people in the world who only had one mark testified to the same story online: the person who’s mark matched theirs were both their soulmate and the person who hurt them the most.

After learning about that, you promised yourself that if you ever met the person with the same mark as you, you would not meddle with them in any way if they were only destined to bring you pain in the end.

If you knew jumping off a bridge would definitely kill you, you wouldn’t jump, right?

Xiaojun is the only person, other than your parents, who knows about the situation. Which is why when he hugs you, you lean into him and accept his comfort.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about. You must have so many questions.” He mumbles into your hair.

“Not questions. I’m just curious about what I am to him.” You reply, whispering into Xiaojun’s shoulder.

“About what you are to him?”

“I know he’ll be the person I’m meant to love the most, and also the person who will hurt me the most. But am I the one that’s supposed to love him or the one that’s supposed to hurt him?”

“Lots of people say that they can feel it when they meet. Like Lucas, he said he instantly knew Yuqi was supposed to be his soulmate.” Xiaojun thinks back to all the people who have told him the exact same thing, even his parents.

“The guy… he kept calling me his soulmate. He sounded so sure about it, too.” You lean away from Xiaojun to look into his big and curious eyes.

“What about you? What did you feel?” He asks.

“It felt… like I left a part of myself with him.” Xiaojun’s eyes widened at that, “Is that crazy? I was only around him for a minute, maybe less, and I can’t stop thinking about how I never wanted to leave. It was so hard to walk away from him..” You trail off, feeling tears suddenly gather at the edges of your eyes.

“Xiaojun…” The edge in your voice makes him grab a hold on your hands, “I don’t want him to hurt me. I’m not ready for it.”

“Hey, hey…” Xiaojun squeezes your hands before gently guiding your face to his, meeting his eyes with your own, “He’ll hurt you eventually, yeah, but he’ll also be the person who is supposed to love you unconditionally. The person who is going to know you so well, better than yourself. Maybe you should see where he takes you in life? Destiny still wanted you to meet each other no matter what the end game is going to be… Are you really going to tell fate to fuck off?”

“Can’t I?” Your response makes Xiaojun laugh, which he apologises for laughing in a serious situation right after, but the mood is already broken and you laugh at yourself a bit as well.

“C’mon, let’s order something to eat and get your mind off of this, even if it’s just for a few hours.” Xiaojun pulls you off of the floor and reaches for his phone, trying to find the phone number to his favorite delivery place.

You sit on his bed once again, your hands limp in your lap and so much appreciation for Xiaojun in your chest. You probably would’ve gone insane if he wasn’t here for you. His suggestion on giving the guy you met today a chance plays like a record in your head, but the record scratches when you remember the promise you made to yourself a long time ago.

Don’t mess with him. He will only bring you pain in the end.

On Wednesday, Haechan is the first one out of his seat in his Music Theory 3 class, not even waiting for the slow Renjun and even slower Jaemin before sprinting out of the classroom and outside, waiting at the top of the staircase for your figure to appear at the bottom.

Students float up and down the stairs, but he doesn’t see you anywhere amongst them. Eventually, Renjun and Jaemin catch up to him, standing behind him and also staring down the long staircase.

“C’mon, Haechan, we need to go to our next class.” Renjun is the first one to step down, followed by Jaemin. Haechan takes a good look at everyone’s faces on his way down, getting some weird looks sent his way for staring, but he doesn’t care.

“Haechan.” Jaemin suddenly calls out, making his friend turn suddenly to look at him. Jaemin only nods his head to the bottom of the stairs where you just turned the corner. Despite his hurry from before, Haechan stops at the sight of you. His usual confidence is lost when he sees you climb the stairs. Now, he’s not sure if he should approach you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Renjun nudges Haechan, but the younger only turns around to look at his friend.

“I don’t know what to say to her. What do I say to make her see I’m her soulmate?” Haechan asks, helplessness seeping into his words.

Renjun rolls his eyes; whenever his best friend needs to be the usual confident man he is, that’s when the confidence is most likely to drain out of him. Renjun shakes Haechan’s shoulders with a tight grip on his jacket, making some more people send the two of them some weird looks.

“She’s your soulmate, right? Fate already gave you everything you need to know about how to talk to her.” Renjun then pushes his friend towards your direction, “But for the love of god, don’t harass her.” Renjun ends with a pointed look and continues walking with Jaemin down the stairs.

Haechan slowly makes his way to you, crossing over to the middle of the staircase and stopping you in your tracks. You look up to inspect who it is that just stopped in front of you, and your surprise fades when you realize it’s the same guy from Monday.

“Hi.” He says simply. You only nod your head, lips pursed, and then move around him to continue walking to class.

“Wait…” Haechan calls after you, but you don’t stop this time. So Haechan keeps walking after you, only one step behind, “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you’re my soulmate. I’ve been waiting for you for so long—” You sharply turn to face him, making Haechan cut off and tilt his head up to look at you.

“How do you know I’m your soulmate? What if I’m not?” You ask. Haechan shakes his head softly at that, his golden hair moving over his sun-kissed skin as he does.

“That’s not possible.”

“How do you know?” You ask. Haechan loves how curiosity burns in your eyes. He takes longer than normal to speak only so that he can look over your features and memorize them to the best of his ability. Last night, he tried to recall your face but the image came out so blurry since he only saw you for a moment on Monday. He wants to clearly remember what you look like.

“How about I take you somewhere, and then I’ll tell you?” The proposition stuns you, and your burning curiosity makes you want to say yes. However, going anywhere with him would be breaking your promise to yourself, so you decide to forget it.

“Nevermind…” You mumble, turning around to walk up the stairs again.

“You seem like you really want to know how I’m sure we’re soulmates… Aren’t you curious?” Haechan asks, making you stop in your tracks again. This man has only known you for a day, only talked to you for a few moments, yet he already knows how to get you to do something. “I promise I won’t hurt you, and I’m not lying either.”

You take a moment to think about the proposition. You’re really curious about how he’s so sure that you’re soulmates. Sure, you know you’re soulmates, but why is he so sure you aren’t the person who’s supposed to hurt him? You consider taking up the offer, but can you stay strong to your own promise while being close to him?

Curiosity wins, and you turn back around to face him, nodding and making him smile widely. There’s that crinkle in his eyes again, that sparkle against the sun that makes saying yes to him so much more worth it.

“My friends call me Haechan, but you can call me Donghyuck. That’s my real name.” He sticks out his hand for you to shake. You once heard that physical touch brings soulmates together quicker; you’re not sure if that’s true, but you don’t want to test it.

“I’m ___.” You nod at him and grip onto your backpack straps instead of accepting his handshake.

“Haechan, hurry up or we’ll be late!” You both hear Renjun shout out from the bottom of the stairs, “And on our second day, too.” You hear him groan.

“Okay, ___, I’ll see you here at 7pm tomorrow night.” Haechan turns around to run back to his friends, sending you one last wave goodbye and almost tripping down the stairs as he does.

You take a deep breath and turn around to walk up the rest of the steps. You’re unsure if you did the right thing by agreeing to see him tomorrow night, but the deed is now done, and you can only wait for Donghyuck to quench your curiosity.

As promised, you meet Donghyuck at 7 o’clock sharp the next day. He’s already waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs.

“So, where are you taking me?” You ask after saying your hello’s.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles and nods his head to make you follow him. He leads you through parts of campus you haven’t seen yet, the buildings looking older and older the further down the path you walk. Soon, Donghyuck takes a sharp turn into what looks like the middle of the forest but is really just a small, hidden extension of the trail.

Under a canopy of tall trees that wave with the wind to you and Donghyuck, there is a skinny trail that leads to glimmering water. It draws you in, your curiosity struck and your feet now moving on their own accord. Bushes tickle your ankles and the smell of some sort of flower you cannot identify floods your senses, but you can only keep walking towards the sparkling water.

The scene in front of you takes your breath away, a crisp gasp that you have no control over leaves your lips. The pond before you is big, stretching further than what you can see. The water is blue and the setting sun’s light reflects off of it to create rippling sparkles. There are some lily pads floating around, their flowers gone due to the temperature dropping recently.

You didn’t even notice that you stopped walking, your eyes wide as you take in the scenery before you. You almost forget who you’re with and why you came, but Donghyuck doesn’t let that happen. You snap out of it when he continues to walk along the trail that leads around the pond. You walk alongside Donghyuck, a few feet away with your hands awkwardly tucked into your pockets.

“C’mon, let’s sit.” He motions to a weeping willow tree. It’s tall and the branches sway pleasantly in the wind, completely unaware and indifferent to the years of history in the area. Underneath the tree is a sturdy bench, you sit on the left side while Donghyuck sits on the right side. Then, you both take a few moments to stare at the mesmerizing water that led you all the way to this seemingly magical place.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ask after a bit.

“Do you not like it?” Donghyuck asks back.

“No.” You quickly reply, looking over his side profile before turning back to the water, “I’m just curious.”

“Something in me knew you would like this place, that’s all.” Donghyuck replies while trying to hide his proud smile, looking down at the grass. “You’re curious about a lot of things, huh?”

“Yeah, I can’t help it. There’s just so much I want to know.” It’s easy to talk to him, a bit too easy. You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re supposed to have your guard up in front of him, but it’s proving harder than you thought it would be.

“Like how I’m sure that you’re my soulmate and not the person who is supposed to hurt me?” Donghyuck leans his weight away from you, his eyebrow cocked in a question. You nod your head lightly, playing with your hands on your lap.

“It’s because I’ve already met the person who’s supposed to bring me pain. I’ve already been hurt.” At his words, surprise fills you up and you turn your head to look him straight in the eye.

For some reason, you always thought that when people meet the person who brings them the largest amount of pain to their life, they couldn’t be the same ever again. How does one get hurt so badly, and still live on?

There are so many ways to hurt someone. Some people become bankrupt, some people lose all of their belongings, some people are even physically hurt by the person who has the same mark as them. How does a person go through any of that and still be themselves afterwards? More importantly, how did Donghyuck go through immense pain and still be able to smile at you like he is right here, right now?

“Here.” He begins to explain, pushing his pants around until you can see his second mark through one of the holes in his jeans, a sunflower on his knee, “My dad had the same mark as me.”

“Your…. Dad?” You ask, still confused.

“Mhmm,” He nods, now tracing the petals of the sunflower mark absentmindedly, “My parents immediately knew something was wrong when I was born. Why would a son and dad have the same mark? When I was growing up, he worked a lot, so I spent lots of time with my mom and grew closer to her. I don’t remember much from that time, but I do remember we were happy. We didn’t have a lot, but we had each other; that kind of feeling.” He looks over at you to see if you’re keeping up with the story. To Donghyuck’s surprise, you already have tears lining your eyes.

“Then one day, Dad comes home and tells us he lost his job. I remember my parents fought a lot the few weeks after that happened, mostly about how to raise me if they had no income. Dad would go out and look for work, but always came back with no luck. So eventually, my mom started working. For a while, the reason we could keep living was because of her.” Donghyuck swallows and pauses for a moment before continuing.

“And then one night, dad came home and told us he gambled. Everything, he gambled everything away. Even the little that we had, it wasn’t ours anymore. That night, my dad told me I was a mistake. My parents never meant to have me, and he said…” Donghyuck purses his lips for a moment. It had been a while since he thought about this. The scar on his heart still hurts when he picks at it. “... He said that he wished I had never been born. Then, we wouldn’t have been in that mess.”

“How old were you?” You speak up after a moment.

“Seven? Or eight.” He nods and sniffs his nose, looking down at his knee. The whole day, Donghyuck was preparing himself to tell you this story. He felt that the only way to get close to you was to open up like this first, to show you that he isn’t someone scary or bad. To Donghyuck’s surprise, telling this story hurts less now than it did earlier in this life. Maybe that means time is working, and his heart is being mended bit by bit.

Donghyuck leans his elbows against his knees, looking at the water once again while waiting for you to say anything. Are you still curious? What do you think of him now?

He was in no way prepared to feel your arms wrap around his waist in a hug, your head resting against his shoulder and your chest pressed against his side. He freezes for a moment, and then melts into your embrace completely. He’s overcome with lovesick softness for you, lightly griping the part of your arm that’s across his chest as his head turns to the side to press a kiss to the top of your head. It’s so quick that you don’t even have time to move away or to react. You just let it happen, as it’s supposed to be.

“You said that something in you knew I would like this place,” You mumble against him. He hears your voice straining with emotion, “Well, something in me knows that you need this right now.”

You and Donghyuck sit there until the sparkling water is no longer fueled by the sun’s light, but by the moon’s. It seems as though now you’ve touched Donghyuck, you never wanted to stop. You’re almost one hundred percent sure that it’s because of the soulmate bond, and a part of you nags at yourself for already chipping away at the promise you made to yourself when you were younger.

However, younger you never knew what it would be like to have a person sit in front of you and share a part of his past with you in an act of confidence and security. Your younger self never knew what it would be like to feel the same pain as someone else, and the pull you felt to touch him after sensing that physical affection would help ease that pain away.

Your younger self had no idea it was this easy to fall into a person, especially when you know they’ll catch you.

“God, I’m so sick and tired of Accounting. ___, I’m quitting school.” Xiaojun gravely tells you, his eyes not wavering from his computer screen.

“Shut up and do your homework, Jun.” You mumble, your eyes not leaving your own computer screen as you type up your Ethics essay. Three weeks into school and you’re already fully emerged in your classes. The newness of college has faded and now it’s time to start the next four years of studying endlessly for the future.

“Are you guys… okay? You haven’t moved over there in a few hours.” Mark asks from the other side of the room where he’s doing his own homework. He eyes you and your best friend from where you’re sitting on his bed, “Are you even comfortable?”

You and Xiaojun are sharing a blanket, he’s leaning against his headboard and you’re leaning against the wall. Your legs are thrown over his and several textbooks are scattered over the blanket. You’re not even sure which of these books are yours or his, or which papers laying in messy stacks belong to who.

“Yeah, I think we’re okay. We’ve been studying like this since high school.” Xiaojun answers, his fingers moving along his keyboard at the same time. You nod at Mark and he shakes his head, not understanding you two but accepting the answer.

You’re over at the guys’ dorm room enough that Mark is not surprised to see you here anymore, hanging out with Xiaojun or waiting for him to come back from class. It’s not that you don’t like your own dorm room, but it’s always so quiet in there since your roommate always studies at the library. You only hear her come into the room late at night when you’re on the verge of sleep, and when she leaves early in the morning before your alarm rings. Weekends are the same. You don’t really care, but you’ve started to hate the quiet, so you’re glad that Mark and Xiaojun don’t mind you chilling here.

“Argh,” Mark yawns and stretches after a few minutes, throwing his computer to the side and standing up, “I’m getting some snacks from the vending machine. You guys want anything?”

After you and Xiaojun answer with simultaneous shakes of your heads, which creeps Mark out, he leaves the room to get food. The room is silent for a few more moments until Xiaojun angles the lid of his laptop down to look at you.

“So… How’s the guy?”

“What guy?” You ask, still preoccupied with your essay.

“Your soulmate, ___, what other guy is there?” Xiaojun answers exasperatedly, “You never told me his name, so I don’t know what to call him. Actually, I haven’t heard you talk about him since the first day of classes. I was hoping you’d tell me what happened with him, but I guess I have to go digging up your dirt myself.” He rolls his eyes.

“His name is Haechan.” You answer, moving your computer to the side, “And I haven’t said anything to you about him because… I haven’t seen him in weeks.” You admit quietly.

“Huh? Didn’t you say you were meeting up so he could tell you why he’s sure you’re his soulmate?” You nod your head at the question, “So, what happened after that?”

“Well… I kinda, maybe, sort of…. have been avoiding him.” You answer quietly, stealing a glance at your best friend to see him staring at you blankly. When he sighs and reaches for his pillow, your eyes widen and you hold up your hands in front of you, spewing pleas and ‘wait’s. Xiaojun doesn’t care, though, flinging his pillow from behind him and into your face.

“Ow?” You whine after the pillow makes contact with your head and forces you to turn to face the other way, “Was that necessary?” You rub your nose, the part of your face that hurts worse from his attack. You’re used to Xiaojun doing this to you whenever you did something that both of you know you shouldn’t have so that you can “get some sense knocked into you, hopefully.”

“You’re so dumb. So, so dumb. Why would you avoid him.” It’s not a question, more of a confused statement to the general air. “You realize people would kill to meet their soulmate, right? People would do anything to be in your position, but you just hide away?”

“People would do anything to meet their soulmate, but people would also do anything to stay away from the person who shares their other mark.” You retaliate, “You don’t understand. To me, Haechan is both of those people.”

“There you go again, worrying about the future when you’re not even sure about what is going to happen. When will you stop worrying about something you can’t control and start thinking about today?” Xiaojun sounds so tired talking about this topic, a conversation you’ve had many times in your friendship. You wonder if he’s so tired of it, why he keeps bringing it up himself.

Before you can answer, the door to the room opens and Mark walks in, several snacks in his arms, “Hey, everyone, I hope it’s okay I brought a friend. He’s in the same major as me, just a year younger—”

“___?” Mark stops talking when his friend speaks, surprised that he already knows one of the people in the room. Your eyes widen, jaw slackening as you’re unable to even let out a peep from your mouth.

“You know each other?” Mark asks, looking between his two friends.

“Yeah, you could say I know my soulmate.” Donghyuck replies, making both Xiaojun and Mark’s eyes widen. You suddenly realize the situation you’re in: under a blanket with Xiaojun, your pajamas on, and your soulmate in front of you after you ghosted him for weeks. For the first time in a while, your eyes meet.

Donghyuck is mad. You can tell by how his fists are clenched and his jaw is tightened. Slowly getting out of the bed, you try to form some words, but Donghyuck snaps and walks over to you quickly. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you out of the room and down the hallway until you get to the lounge area. When you reach the empty room, that’s when you come to your senses.

“Donghyuck,” You pull your arm out of his, making him turn to face you, “I’m not even wearing shoes.” You hiss, pointing down to your feet as if to prove some point.

“What was all that?” He disregards your comment and hisses back at you, stepping closer so that you’re barely a few inches apart. “You were under a blanket. With some guy. Don’t you feel wrong doing that?” He asks, his hands now on his hips. You feel slightly like you’re being lectured to.

“That guy is my best friend.” You spit out.

“So, do you go around and do that to all of your guy friends?” Donghyuck chuckles vehemently, you can tell he’s angry and jealous, and that those emotions are clouding his brain at the moment. That doesn’t mean his words don’t hurt, though.

“Xiaojun and I have been best friends since we were in diapers. I’ve known you for three weeks, barely. I’m more comfortable around him than I am with you. You think just because I’m your soulmate, I’ll automatically trust you and we’ll all of a sudden be a happy couple? It doesn’t work like that, Donghyuck. I don’t even know you.” You can tell you hurt him by your last words because he turns silent, his shoulders slouching and his anger subsiding.

You can tell you hurt him, hard, because you feel the hurt, too.

It makes you realize how scary the bond between soulmates is. Even though you and Donghyuck haven’t spent that much time together to strengthen your bond, it’s still strong enough to allow you to feel his emotions. It makes you wonder if Donghyuck will be able to feel your pain in the future when he hurts you, like he’s destined to.

“Have you even tried to get to know me? You’ve been avoiding me ever since I took you to the pond.” At his comment, you fold your arms over your chest and look away, not ready to answer that question.

“I’m… just scared, is all.” You manage to reply. Although not the complete truth, it’s not a total lie. Donghyuck completely softens at your words, his close proximity to you feels less threatening and turns into something more gentle. His hand softly slips into yours, but this time with a lighter touch than before.

“You don’t have to be scared, not around me. I’m new to this too, so I don’t know how it all works yet, but this is something we can figure out together. That’s what we were fated to do.” Donghyuck can feel his words pulling you closer to him, he can feel you on the edge and he’s ready to catch you with his arms wide open.

But in the last second, you take a step back and slip your hand out of his, making his drop limply to his sides. You send him a look, something he can’t read, and then turn around and walk back to the dorm he pulled you out of.

He almost had you, almost.

When midterms come around, you use your upcoming tests and projects as a way to dive deep into your work so that you don’t have to think about Donghyuck. It’s a good plan overall, however your friends quickly start worrying for you and your health. Staying up late several nights in a row and not even being able to remember when the last time you ate is where Xiaojun pulled the plug on your bad studying habits. He confiscated your backpack and dropped you off in front of your dorm building with the promise that you’ll have all of your things back tomorrow morning only if you rest for tonight.

On your way to the elevator, you run into Yuqi, both of your facial expressions brightening when you recognize each other.

“Oh, ___, Hi!” You stop in the middle of the hallway to greet her, a smile pulling at your lips due to her bright hello. “How are you?”

“Midterms are kicking my ass, but other than that I’m fine.” She laughs at your answer, throwing her head back and letting her new short hair ruffle her shoulders.

“I wish I could tell you it gets better, but that would be a lie.” You nod your head in solemn understanding, “Listen, I can’t talk for long since I have a night class, but promise to text me when things slow down, yeah?”

“Of course, I promise.” You nod, just the thought of spending some time with a good friend already pushes away your stress. You wave bye to Yuqi as she begins to turn around but after a loud “oh!” leaves her lips, she turns back to face you.

“Your roommate, her name is Mya, right?” At her random question, you tilt your head in confusion, “She has really long, black hair and big glasses, right? I think I saw her when I was helping you move in?”

“Yeah, that’s her.” You nod, “Why?”

“She found her soulmate today.” You would’ve been more interested in the news if you knew Mya beyond when she goes to class and when she gets back to the dorm, but you feign surprise and nod your head absentmindedly.

“Lucas managed to get a video. It was a whole performance in the quad today, you’d think someone was getting married. I’ll send it to you later.” And with that, she says her last goodbye and runs off. You slowly turn and continue walking in a slow pace up to your dorm room, taking the stairs just so you can have some time to think and be away from people you could potentially run into if you use the elevator.

You’re genuinely happy for Mya, even if you barely know a single thing about her. However, something about a person close to you finding their soulmate makes you sad, considering the situation with your own soulmate. You can’t help but feel a little jealous that there are people who can meet their soulmate and fall into each other’s lives easily.

In times like these, you crave for Donghyuck.

You crave his touch and his words, you crave that comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere you get when he’s around. It’s insane that you haven’t spent much time together, yet you can yearn for someone to the extent that it hurts. It’s been like this ever since Donghyuck pulled you out of Xiaojun’s dorm and you rejected him.

Turning away from him all those weeks ago still haunts you. When you’re struggling to fall asleep, your mind goes to that night. When you let your mind wander, it wanders to that night. You constantly think about stepping away from him, but you’re not sure if you keep remembering the moment out of guilt or shame. One of the questions you keep asking yourself is if you did the right thing. You still do not have an answer.

When you walk into your dorm room, you kick off your shoes and turn on your bedside lamp, falling onto your bed with a deep sigh. You close your eyes for a second, but the peace and quiet of your room is ruined when your phone dings with a notification.

Yuqi’s message pops up, and when you swipe your phone open you can see she sent a video. You click on it and turn the volume up. This was no doubt taken earlier today in the quad, the sun shining and lots of professors and students walking in the background. Under the huge clock tower stand two people, one of them holding a large bouquet of roses. When the clock strikes noon, the bells on top of the tower begin to ring a familiar melody that can be heard all over your big campus. You see the exchange of the bouquet and the two people hug, and then applause rises from the people walking by. You smile when you hear Lucas’ whooping and hollering from behind the phone.

You’ve heard about the tradition of soulmates meeting under the clock tower at your university. Yuqi told you about it when she was giving you a tour around campus at the beginning of the semester. You remember her telling you that it’s really romantic, probably due to the history of so many people getting together in the exact same spot.

Although the idea is rather plain, you do feel your heart strings tug at the beautiful display, glad you could see something like this through a video. Then, as the camera gets closer to the couple, your smile fades and you pause the video, zooming in to get a better view. Mya is no doubt the one who received the flowers, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows as you recognize her soulmate.

It’s one of Donghyuck’s friends.

Not the quiet one with black hair that hangs around on the outside of their group, but the shorter one who seemed to simultaneously love and hate Donghyuck, or at least that’s what you gathered from seeing him a few times.

After the realization, you drop your phone to the side and stare up at your ceiling in defeat. Is this fate? If you didn’t meet Donghyuck on those steps two months ago, would you eventually meet him through your roommate and her soulmate? Or is this all just one big coincidence?

In this world, coincidences are harder to find than the work of fate.

Your train of thought is quickly cut off by the opening on the door, you quickly sit up to watch a huge red bouquet of flowers enter the room, followed by your roommate. You’ve only seen her face a few times this semester, but never have her features looked so bright and happy. She also looks startled when she notices you’re in the room, but her happiness doesn’t fade.

“Oh? You’re here?” She asks.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You both chuckle awkwardly, “Congrats, by the way. For finding your soulmate.” You motion to the flowers in her hand.

“Thank you! To be honest, Renjun wasn’t at all what I expected in a soulmate, but I think I love him already.” The sweetness drips from her eyes and words, and you nod and smile, remembering that Donghyuck’s friend’s name is Renjun. Her phone begins to ring and she shuffles the flowers in her hand to look at the screen, “Oh, it’s him.”

She answers the call, speaking quietly as she walks over to her side of the room. You weigh out the options of sneaking out of your dorm and finding a place to chill until your roommate falls asleep. You're not sure if you can talk to her about soulmate stuff and keep up this happy look on your face.

However, all thoughts of those plans leave your mind when Mya turns to you and holds out the phone, “It’s for you?” She says it more like a question, but you’re sure you’re the one who’s more confused.

“Hello?” You ask into the phone, awkwardly looking around the room.

“___? Oh, thank god. It’s Renjun, Haechan’s friend. I need your help.” He talks quickly and shallowly, like he’s out of breath and currently moving somewhere.

“How did you know I’m Mya’s roommate?” You ask, disregarding his cry for help.

“It’s a long story, I promise I’ll explain later, but can you please come to the auditorium? The back entrance.” You hear more voices in the background of the call, but you can’t make out what they're saying. One of them is definitely Donghyuck.

“What’s going on?” At the sound of your soulmate’s unique tenor, you suddenly become more aware of what might be happening. Is Donghyuck safe? Did he get in trouble?

“Donghyuck drank too much and he won’t go home, he keeps asking for you.” At that, you hand the phone back to Mya, who takes it from you with an unsure look. By the time Mya says her worried goodbyes and hangs up, she turns back to an empty dorm room, your phone snatched from your bed and your scattered shoes gone.

You must’ve made it to the auditorium in record time, not even the climb up the 109 steps could slow you down. When you reach the auditorium, you can hear Donghyuck and his friends conversing loudly and you follow their voices, which eventually leads you to the dingy backside of the auditorium. Donghyuck is sitting on the ground with the hood of his coat pulled up and covering his eye sight, arms crossed over his chest and his lips in a pout. His two friends, Renjun and the black-haired kid, stand above him. The quiet one is shivering in his spot while Renjun practically yells at Donghyuck on the ground, who doesn’t seem to be moving any time soon.

“Hi, ___.” The quiet one notices you first and then all three guys turn to look at you.

“___…” Donghyuck whines out your name and tries to stand up but Renjun gently pushes him back down.

“What happened?” You ask, sniffing your nose when the harsh, cold air nips at it.

“He said he wanted to unwind before his midterms tomorrow but then he went out and had some drinks, a few too many as you can see.” Renjun explains, “We followed him here, he said he won’t go anywhere unless it’s with you.”

“It’s strange. Haechan is a good drinker, I didn’t think he would get drunk so quickly… Oh, I’m Jaemin, by the way.” He introduces himself with a bright smile, as if you weren’t just discussing the drunken state of his friend.

“I’m Renjun, I called you earlier. I promise I have a good explanation for how I know you’re Mya’s roommate, I just don’t think right now is the best time to talk about it.” Renjun explains, his hands pointing towards Donghyuck.

“Right, about him… I think you guys should leave.” Both sober men widen their eyes, looking at each other and then back at you.

“Are you sure you want to handle this yourself? He looks small, but Haechan is kind of heavy.” Jaemin warns.

“Hey!” Donghyuck speaks up, but even his verbalization sounds slurred. When he points an accusing finger at Jaemin, he sways and misses Jaemin’s figure by a whole foot, “Don’t say that kind of stuff to my girlfriend.”

At his use of the word, Jaemin and Renjun stand straight with awkwardness and you sigh, white puffs of air leaving your mouth, “Yeah, you guys should go.”

Renjun and Jaemin give you an unsure look, but turn around and leave the area anyway. Renjun sends one last look over his shoulder with a wave of his hand. You look at Donghyuck after they turn the corner, kicking his shoe gently.

“Hey, get up. How much did you drink?” You’re not actually curious about how much alcohol he consumed, you just want to know if he can even respond to simple questions.

“Babe!” He exclaims when he looks up, “Oh, not much. I could go for another round right now, actually.” His words slur together and he sways in his sitting position against the brick wall of the auditorium.

“You’re not going for another round, you’re going home. C’mon.” You grab onto the sleeve of his puffer jacket, pulling him up so that he’s standing. He immediately falls onto you, his arms around your waist and his legs spread wide so that his head is hidden in your neck.

“Hyuck, you have to walk. Get up.” You pull him up once again, putting one of his arms around your shoulders and giving him more support around his waist. Slowly, you begin to walk away from the auditorium with Donghyuck’s drunk mumbling filling the cool air. His legs barely work underneath him, and he turns his head and leans into your ear every once in a while to sing some random lyric that pops into his mind at that second, like a small concert that he allows only you to hear.

Once you reach the top of the staircase, you stop and take a long look down to the bottom, “Why did you have to come all the way up here? How are we getting down the stairs?” If you start to climb down, Donghyuck could fall and hurt himself. You’re not that strong to begin with and your shoulders are already feeling sore from carrying most of Donghyuck’s weight.

“We can ride this.” He giggles and breaks away from you, one of his legs swinging over the handrail so that he’s straddling it.

“No, no, no.” You pull him off, but his shoe gets caught against the rail and he comes falling down onto you, both of you landing on the top step of the staircase. You wince in pain at how your back hits the concrete, but you don’t think about it much as you push Donghyuck off of you and into the space next to you on the top stair.

“Oh, no. Are we stuck up here?” He asks as you brush your hands together to get rid of the little pieces of concrete in your skin.

“Yes, and it’s all your fault. What are you gonna do about it?” You reply, so sarcastically that even Donghyuck’s drunk brain registers the joke. Your heart almost leaps out of your throat when he grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him, gently picking out each little ball of cement in your palms.

“I’m sorry I keep hurting you.” He apologizes. This close, you can smell the alcohol in his breath, mixed with his shampoo and cologne. He smells warm in this cold weather, and you feel like falling into him and drinking up his scent, not even minding the alcohol stench.

“Keep hurting me?” You ask.

“Yeah, that must be why you don’t want to be with me. I have to be doing something wrong for you to hate me.” He sighs, sniffling and enclosing your hands in his, his glassy eyes looking up at you and his long hair hangs down over his forehead and tickles his eyelashes. “I’m a bad soulmate.”

The way he says it makes your heart break. It makes you feel regret 1000 times worse than what you’ve been feeling these past few weeks; as if all of the worry and sadness hit you all at once, you feel like crying.

Isn’t he supposed to be the one who hurts you? Why does it feel like you’re the only one doing the hurting?

“You’re not a bad soulmate,” It’s not Donghyuck’s fault that he got stuck with you, or that things will turn out the way that they’re destined to, “And I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” He looks up into the night sky and sways a bit as he thinks, “Then why won’t you be with me? Hm?” He tilts his head, his lips pouting as he thinks. You desperately want to find an answer that’ll soothe him, but nothing you can come up with will give you that result, the truth included.

“It’s complicated…” You trail off, and your answer makes Donghyuck snort.

“How? I’m your soulmate, you’re mine. What else matters?” He laughs incredulously.

“What if you’re not just my soulmate?” You ask him, surprising yourself with how easily you can ask the question, probably because the influence of alcohol over him has you more at ease, “What if something happens in the future? I’m just… looking out for me, and for you.” You explain, trying to sound as vague as possible.

When you glance at Donghyuck, he looks dead serious. You think that maybe he has suddenly sobered up with how deep and calculating his eyes look. One of his hands tighten around yours while the other slowly raises to your hair, pacing himself along the way, and pausing before he touches you. When you don’t stop him, he gently caresses your hair and moves it away from your face, his nimble fingers sliding to your jaw. He moves your face so that your eyes meet his.

��I know I’m drunk, but I can make this promise again when I’m sober. I’ll make this promise every single day for the rest of my life, only if it means you can be there with me to fulfill it.” The severeness in his tone is like a wake up call about how serious this is for him.

“What promise?” You whisper back.

“It’s not just a ‘you’ or just a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ And I will do everything I can to not hurt us.”

He says it with so much conviction that you somehow believe him. You finally fall into him and rest your tired head on his shoulder as he welcomes you into his warm arms. Maybe it’s foolish of you to think you two can go against fate’s words, but with him by your side, you feel like you can conquer the whole universe.

“Stop smiling like that, you’re making it very obvious that you got laid for the first time.” Donghyuck peers over his laptop screen to Renjun, where he has had a permanent smile on his face ever since he, Donghyuck, and Jaemin met up today to study in the lounge center of their dorm building.

“You know, Haechan, I’m not even mad at that. It’s more than what I can say to you.” Renjun tries to hide his widening smile while looking down at his own laptop, but that paired with Jaemin’s quiet laughter leaves Donghyuck bitter. “Didn’t you and ___ make up?” Renjun asks.

“They were fighting? I thought they just weren’t talking to each other?” Jaemin asks.

“Isn’t that fighting?”

“Kids.” Haechan cuts them off, “Not that it’s any of your business, but we were not fighting and we did make up.”

“That makes no sense.” Jaemin mutters and squints his eyes at Donghyuck.

“I’m older than you.” Renjun retaliates, but Donghyuck pretends like he doesn’t hear.

“We’re just… taking it slow.” Donghyuck ends his explanation with a firm nod of his head, and Renjun shuts his laptop and turns to his friend.

“Can you take it slow during the Fair this weekend? I’m planning to go with Mya and accidentally bought two pairs of tickets. I’ll give you the other pair.” Renjun leans into his friend’s side and wiggles his eyebrows.

“At what cost?” Haechan leans in as well and raises an eyebrow.

“Help me with my English project.”

“No way,” Haechan leans back and focuses on his own laptop screen again, “I haven’t even started mine, I don’t have time to help you with yours.”

“Please,” Renjun draws out the word, grabbing Donghyuck’s sleeve and tugging at it so hard that he can’t properly type, “I suck at English, and unfortunately it’s the only thing that you’re better at than me.”

“The only thing?” Donghyuck glares at Renjun. “Now I’m definitely not helping you.” When Renjun whines at that Donghyuck gets a devilish idea, and it shows by the smirk on his face, “... Unless, you’d like to show us how you really need help.”

At Donghyuck’s proposition, he leans back in his chair with his arms folded across his  chest while Jaemin mirrors his actions, his own goofy smile on his face as he waits for Renjun to either accept or deny the proposition, but he hopes he’ll accept it.

Renjun looks between his two friends and sighs, dropping his head down as he mentally prepares himself. When he lifts his head, he looks at Donghyuck with his lips pursed, his pointer finger over them and makes a “kyu” sound that is way higher than his original speaking voice. Jaemin and Haechan immediately burst into as quiet of laughter as they can, Jaemin reaching over the table to poke Renjun’s cheek at his cuteness.

“I never said to act cute, I just wanted you to say please again.” Donghyuck jokes through his snickering, and Renjun immediately stands up from his chair to take a fistful of Haechan’s jacket and pull back his other fist, all cuteness gone from his facial features in a split second.

“Okay, okay, sorry, sorry.” Haechan tries to pull away, his voice rising as Renjun holds onto his jacket tighter and threateningly leans in.

“Hey, quiet down.” Someone whisper-shouts from a few tables away, and it makes Renjun let go of Donghyuck and slowly sit back down. “This isn’t even a library, why are they shushing me.” He grumbles.

“You guys have fun on your date,” Jaemin sighs as he begins to put away his things, satisfied with the study session and with his friends' mischief, “I would go too, but I don’t feel like being a fifth wheel.”

Once your classes end on the day of the Fair, you and your roommate meet up with Donghyuck and Renjun outside of the Fair grounds. You and Donghyuck walk side by side, a bit behind the other couple as they lead the way, practically in their own little bubble. Your hands are shoved in your pockets to keep them from turning numb from the cold and you try to shove your head as far into your jacket as you can to keep your face and neck protected from the wind. Other than the chilly weather, it’s a perfect day for a Fair.

You don’t seem to notice Donghyuck’s predicament right beside you; he’s trying to find a way to hold your hand, but you don’t move them out of your pockets. Actually, Donghyuck is sure you’re doing this on purpose, since he has been trying to touch you the moment you met up with him tonight.

“So, what do you wanna ride first?” He asks you. After looking around the area, your eyes land on a tea cup ride, where the large cups move in circles and also spin in their spots.

“That.” You point to it. Before you can move, Donghyuck latches into your hand that was pointing into the air and pulls you to the ride, a smug smile on his face at how he succeeded in finally sharing some skin to skin contact.

The ride was, to say the least, nauseating. Not that it was disgusting, but Donghyuck wouldn’t stop spinning your individual cup around in fast circles, and you were so sure that you would fling off any second due to the strong velocity those tiny cups have when they go at full speed. However, walking off of the ride with wobbly legs and not being able to see straight was funnier than you thought it would be.

Donghyuck was actually still pretty dizzy when he tried to win a stuffed octopus for you with a dart game. However, he ended up losing $15 while trying to win the game, and you’re sure he would’ve spent more if you didn’t pull him away. After eating some good food and refilling your energy, the sun begins to set on the horizon in a colorful display of red, orange and pink, and people start to make their way to the ferris wheel.

“C’mon,” You hear Mya say from behind you, “We need to get in line first or else we’ll be waiting for half of the night.” She pulls Renjun by his sleeve and passes you and Donghyuck, practically running to the end of the growing line for the Ferris Wheel. When you see where she’s running to, you stop in your tracks which in turn makes Donghyuck stop. Your intertwined fingers pull you back to each other as he looks at you with a puzzled look.

“I’m… not good with heights.” You confess and look towards the top of the ferris wheel, shivering just at the thought of going that far up into the sky in a metal contraption, “Or small spaces…” You add on.

“That’s okay,” Donghyuck gently reassures, smiling lightly at your sudden timidness about your fears. Honestly, he’s just happy you now trust him a bit more to even tell him what you’re afraid of. “We don’t have to go. We can do something else.”

“Like what?” You ask. Donghyuck purses his lips and looks around, until a set of stairs on the edge of the fairgrounds catches his eye.

“I know a place where we can still get a good view of the sunset without going too far up.” He replies and tugs you along with him towards the set of stairs. They lead down to the park that’s nestled in the middle of your University, which eventually leads to a pedestrian bridge that crosses over a river that runs through your town.

The river isn’t that big, nor is the bridge, but it’s big enough to have your head tilting up in wonder as you gaze at the lights adorning the sides of it, lighting up not only the bridge itself by the sky as well. You’ve seen this bridge from your dorm room, but you’ve never once stood on it, and it looks remarkable from this close up.

Donghyuck continues to lead you over the pedestrian bridge onto the other side, where an outdoor museum that was constructed by art students a few years ago holds several different abstract paintings. His hand in yours, which has been it’s resting place all night, keeps yours warm. You try not to think about how your hands fit into each other like the gears of a hand-crafted watch. The lines on your palms connect with the lines on his; it’s painfully obvious he was made for you and you were made for him.

When you reach the end of the outdoor museum, you turn west and face the sunset just as it’s setting over the skyline. Even though some tall buildings obstruct the view, the colors of the sky stretch overhead and make both you and Donghyuck stand still and appreciate the artwork in the sky.

“You like these kinds of things, huh? Sunsets, and ponds, and that kind of stuff?” He suddenly asks, not talking his eyes off of the sky. You, however, turn to look at him. He has his eyes screwed as he tries to look at the sunset, obviously not liking the bright sunlight.

“You don’t?” You ask back.

“I think... there are more enjoyable things.” Donghyuck takes a while to make up his mind about what he wants, obviously trying not to make the things you enjoy sound bad to him.

“Then we should go.” You turn around, but he pulls you back to your original spot.

“We walked all this way, we’re watching this sunset even if my feet freeze to the ground.” He tightens his grip on your hand and speaks through his teeth, making you sputter out a laugh and hit his shoulder with your own lightly.

“Sometimes, I wonder why fate put us together.” You ask, watching as the sun moves bit by bit, leaving behind trails of light and the beginnings of stars and the vast universe on the other side of the sky. “We’re different. I don’t know about you, but you are not who I imagined my soulmate would be.” You speak truthfully.

Even though there are some strings attached to Donghyuck’s relationship with you, it didn’t stop you from thinking about what kind of person he’d be— what kind of person fate would pick to be your perfect fit. Maybe they would have some sort of major flaw, like an anger problem or a lack of common sense. Maybe they would be an alcoholic or someone who commits crimes.

When it came to your soulmate, you always thought of something bad considering that they were also going to hurt you in some way. You never thought that your soulmate would be someone as unique and fun as Donghyuck. Fate made it way too easy to be with him, and you’re not sure whether to feel bitter or thankful.

“Well,” He blows some air through his nose, “You’re exactly what I thought my soulmate would be like” Your heart jumps into your throat and beats irregularly when Donghyuck says that, struck with the feeling of surprise once again.

“Mark tells me you’re smart and get good grades, and I know it was you who ordered that soup for me the morning after you took me home when I got drunk. Not to mention, you went out when it was dark to take me home in the first place.” Donghyuck explains, his hand that’s still interlocked with yours waving around as he does so, “You’re willing to help others, you have a good head on your shoulders, and not to mention you guard your heart to the very end.”

“Guarding my heart… That’s an admirable quality? If I remember correctly, it caused you some pain in the past few months.” By now, the last rays of the sun are disappearing over the horizon and night begins to blanket the sky. You turn to your soulmate when he takes more than a moment to answer, watching the way his face reacts to the thoughts turning in his head.

“Yeah, it is a great quality. I think if you completely trusted me the moment you saw me on those stairs, we wouldn’t end up here now. You wouldn’t be the perfect fit for me if you loved me so easily.” He turns to you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. Your interlocked fingers are basically frozen together at this point and maybe your feet really have stuck to the ground, but his words warm you up from the inside out.

“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”

Somehow, he manages to remind you of one very important fact that you’ve set aside since the moment you met him. You’ve always put the fact that he’s supposed to hurt you first, and the fact that he’s your soulmate second. However, he is a human and so are you, and you’re both given the opportunity to love one another wholly and truly. People die to have this type of moment. People live their whole lives without experiencing this type of emotion.

It’s time to remember that Donghyuck is your soulmate, first and foremost. He is deserving of love, and you’re now willing to give it to him.

When you pull Donghyuck into you, he feels like it may be a hallucination. Surely your lips can’t be that close to his own. But when he smells the cinnamon on your lips from that churro you had and your fingers sliding up his arm to grip his jacket, he becomes scared that this might actually be a hallucination.

You slowly lean in, almost painfully slow, but Donghyuck doesn’t dare rush you. When your lips do meet, both of you feel complete. The feeling of finishing a lifetime’s worth of work with one gentle kiss is the most delicious feeling ever, different from anything that either of you have ever experienced.

It’s slow and careful, but passionate and full of true love. No matter what happens in the future, it will always be your memory to savor and remember for the rest of your lives.

“___!” You hear Mark’s voice from your right, turning your head quickly to see him stick his hand up in the air and begin to make his way through the throngs of people between you two. You move towards him, attempting to meet in the middle, but somehow he ends up behind you, and you laugh as you attempt to meet again.

“Hey, Mark,” You look over him, noting how well he manages to pull off the choir robe that everyone else seems to look like a sack of potatoes in, “I didn’t know your concerts could get this packed. You guys could start your own group and make it big.” You look around while adjusting the flowers in your hand so they don’t get squished against your chest.

“Nah, it’s mostly just families that come to these concerts. Since there are a lot of vocal majors, there are a lot of families that show up.” He explains.

“So, what does that make me?” You joke, but Mark doesn’t seem to get it and tilts his head to the side.

“You’re Donghyuck’s girlfriend. That makes you family, right?” At the mention of your relationship, you glance down at the flowers in your hand, the flowers that are meant for the aforementioned boy. You nod, mumbling something like a ‘I guess’ before Mark looks down at his watch and sucks a breath through his teeth.

“Okay, I have to go warm up. Make sure you get a seat in the middle, that’s where it sounds best.” He gives you a quick wave as he walks away, and you manage to send one back. Before you know it, the doors to the auditorium open and people flood in to grab the best seat they can.

You barely manage to snag a seat in the middle, an older lady to your right and a grandpa to your left who seem to be unrelated and didn’t mind you sitting between them. You shrug off your coat as you look around, feeling anxiety build up in your chest. You know you don’t have anything to be anxious for, so you deduct that it’s probably Donghyuck.

He invited you to the concert today. For him, it’s part of his final grade for his vocal class and for you, it’s a chance to see him sing on stage. Strangely, he has talked about how much he loves to perform but never wants to sing in front of you. When he told you he auditioned for a solo in one of the songs, and ended up getting the part, you knew you absolutely had to come today.

Pulling out your phone, you send Donghyuck a text saying that you’re seated and that you wish him to break a leg. You see the read receipt pop up next to your text, and although he doesn’t text anything back, the anxious feeling in your chest subsides and you smile to yourself.

“Those are pretty flowers.” Turning your head to the lady on your right, you glance down at the bouquet of black-eyed susans on your lap.

“Oh, thank you.” You put your phone on silent and slip it into your pocket.

“They’re my mom’s favorite.” Your attention turns to a kid who sits on the other side of the woman. He can’t be any older than ten, and his feet don’t touch the ground as he swings them back and forth and looks up at his mother.

“Oh?” You ask, turning back to the older woman, “Would you like some?”

The woman seems to be stunned by your question, obviously not expecting you to hand over flowers at such a comment from her son. She looks almost flustered as she shakes her head at you.

“No, it’s okay. I bet those are for someone special?” She asks while nodding towards the stage.

“They’re for my… boyfriend.” You mumble, still not used to the words leaving your tongue, even though it has been more than a few weeks now.

“Then you should save them for him.” She nods and you smile back.

“But I want one.” The woman’s son pouts, and the mother nudges her foot against his leg. You laugh a bit, using your right hand to hold down the bouquet and your left to pull out a flower. Carefully, you hand it over to the little boy and he grasps it, his pout turning into a smile while he sings a ‘thank you’ and counts the petals on the flower.

The woman gives you a nod, and you all turn to face forward where the students are beginning to walk onto the stage.

The concert went well; you weren’t familiar with any of the pieces of music the choir performed, and many of them were in different languages, but you still enjoyed the performance by the many music students from your university. You managed to catch sight of Donghyuck fairly quickly, and Mark was just a few rows behind him.

Donghyuck’s solo fit his voice perfectly. Maybe you’re biased, but you think no one would be able to match his tone and technique to fit the song as perfectly as he did. Since it was the first time you heard him sing, you were a bit taken back by how amazing his voice sounds and how much control he has of it. It didn’t look like he struggled to hit the notes, and he looked like he was in his element on stage.

After the concert, you wait on the staircase outside of the auditorium building where you agreed to meet up with Donghyuck. You roll on your feet, jumping up and down slightly to keep warm. You clutch the flowers to you, scared that the cold weather might cause them to bend and begin to wilt quicker.

“Oh, it’s the flower lady!” You hear a familiar voice call out, and you turn your head to see the little boy and his mom from earlier… walking with Donghyuck? He has his choir robe hanging from one arm and his other hand intertwined with the little kid.

“Do you guys know each other?” Donghyuck asks, looking between the three of you with confusion.

“We happened to sit next to each other during the concert.” The woman explains, a grin growing on her face as she looks between you two. “This is your soulmate.” She doesn’t say it like a question, she says it plainly and nods her head in content.

“I’m sorry, did you already know who I was when we met?” You ask her.

“No, until I saw the mark on your left hand. I would recognize my own son’s mark anywhere.” Son? This is Donghyuck’s mother?! Your eyebrows must be up to your hairline and you think your mouth might be open, but you can only focus on remembering every little thing you said to her before the concert started to recall if you said anything dumb.

“Let me introduce you properly. This is ___, my soulmate and my girlfriend. ___, this is my mom, Sara, and my half-brother, Hyunjin.” Donghyuck gently takes your elbow and pulls you closer to him.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You politely greet them as if it’s the first time ever.

“Well, I like her. She gave me a flower.” Hyunjin exclaims.

“Back off, she’s mine.” Donghyuck jokes with the kid. “Thank you guys for coming today, by the way.” He continues, “I appreciate my favorite people being here for my first college performance.”

Donghyuck goes to hug his mom as she sets a kiss to his cheek that makes him cringe away slightly. However, you’re still struck to your spot from being included into Donghyuck’s group of favorite people. There’s a warm feeling in your chest at being included into something so special so early on in your relationship. There’s also some anxiety that comes with it, since promises that are made too early hurt the most, but you push the feeling away and soak in Donghyuck’s unconditional love.

After you all bid farewell to each other, and Sara and Hyunjin leave, you turn to Donghyuck with a deadpan expression, “You didn’t tell me I’d be meeting your family today.”

“Would you believe me when I say that I forgot they were coming?” He asks and you roll your eyes, not believing his words at all.

“These are for you.” You push the flowers into his chest and dig your hands into your pockets so that they can finally get warm, “Your solo was… interesting to listen to.” You say with annoyance dripping from every word.

“Thank you,” He replies cutely, not affected by your irritation. You roll your eyes again, but a smile tugs at your lips as well. “What kind of flowers are these? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them?” He asks while digging his nose into the bouquet.

“Black-eyed susans.” You reply, and Donghyuck gives you a weird look.

“That’s such a random flower.”

“They attract dragonflies.” You explain, nudging his side with your elbow. When you glance over to him, he has a smile playing on his lips.

“Should I be giving these to you, then?” He hands them over, but you push them back at him.

“No way. I’m already attracted to you.” You state, turning around to walk back down the staircase. When you don’t hear any footsteps following you, you turn around to find Donghyuck kneeling over with the flowers clutched close to him.

“Are you okay?” Alarm rises in your chest, especially when he shakes his head at your question.

“No, you just made my heart beat really fast and I’m afraid I’m gonna have a heart attack.” You would roll your eyes again, but you’re afraid they might roll out of your head at this point. You climb back up the stairs and yank on his sleeve jacket to make him walk alongside you.

“___, feel my heart. I swear it’s going to beat out of my chest.”

“Shut up, Donghyuck.”

“No, seriously, I think we should go to the hospital.”

“Shut up.”

In the morning, Donghyuck loves to wake up next to you. He has always been a spread-out type of sleeper; arms to the side, legs open, laying diagonally across the bed. Once you two moved out of your dorms and moved into an apartment together during your second year of college, Donghyuck’s way of sleeping changed dramatically.

Now, he can’t help but snuggle in, wrap his arms around you, tangle his legs in with yours, and do everything he can to sleep as close as he can to you. Maybe that’s why he suddenly woke up. The absence of you next to him made him shuffle awake, missing the frame of your body next to his like how it usually fits.

He groggily opens his eyes and immediately shivers, catching the open windows in the bedroom letting in fresh, cool, morning air. Donghyuck shivers once again, blindly reaching for the blanket and wrapping it around his head and shoulders, then making his way out of the bedroom in search of you.

He checks the kitchen, but you’re not there. Then he goes to the living room, and he sees your figure outside on the balcony, the curtains that are supposed to be hanging up in your bedroom moving with the wind as they hang next to you. He tightens the blanket around him and opens the glass door. Even though you definitely heard him come outside, you don’t turn around. You have a cup of something warm next to you and you’re leaning against the balcony while staring out into the city skyline, watching the sun rise into the sky to welcome the new day.

“Good morning.” Donghyuck mumbles as softly as he can. When you mumble back a reply, he opens the front of the blanket so he can swallow you into his embrace. His chin rests on your shoulder and tries to guess exactly what you’re looking at, but when he lifts his head to look at your face, your eyes are closed.

“So, do you want to tell me why our curtains are out here and not on our windows like they should be?” He rests his head against yours, also closing his eyes.

“I woke up and suddenly felt the urge to clean them, I don’t know.” You laugh a bit, making both of you move with the movement of your chest. Donghyuck smiles at your reason; one of the things he learned about you when you moved in together is that your work ethic comes in random bursts of energy, rather than carefully planned out schedules to follow. You always have a small goal for every day, and sometimes you don’t even know what it is until it randomly pops into your head. Although he doesn’t really understand how you’re able to work like that, he loves this little quirk anyway.

“Did I wake you up?” You whisper and nudge your head into Donghyuck’s, nuzzling back into him when a particularly strong gust of wind blows over the balcony.

“Not technically, no. You not being next to me woke me up.” He replies.

“Well, I’m here now. How about we sleep some more?” You ask, leaning back against him and looking at his face.

“Best thing I’ve heard today.” He sighs. Without letting you out of his blanket trap, he walks you both back into the apartment and into your bedroom, both of you beginning to giggle at one point when you almost trip over the blanket and crash into the ground.

Thankfully, you both made it back safely to the bed, falling into the soft mattress. Immediately, Donghyuck gathers you in his arms and cuddles you to him, almost like he’s latching onto you. You wrap your arms around him slowly and lean into his shoulder, placing a kiss against his collarbone. You were going to stop there, but when he lets out a whimper at the small press of your lips to his skin, you continue moving up his neck.

When you reach the space underneath his ear, he twitches at how you suck on the sensitive skin, not expecting you to pay closer attention there. His hand slides over your back, between your shoulder blades, and back down, pressing you to him as he caresses you and silently hopes you don’t stop what you’ve started.

You don’t seem to have any intention to do that when you lean back, looking up at Donghyuck’s big, round eyes as they stare down hazily at you and quickly connecting your lips. He kisses back slowly, as if taking his sweet, sweet time in loving you.

“I thought we were supposed to sleep?” You ask between kisses.

“We can sleep later…” He trails off, grabbing your hand and pulling you on top of him so that you’re straddling his hips. “... If you’re really tired we don’t have to.” He suddenly pulls away, his hand comfortably resting over your waist.

“No way. It’s too late for that.” You answer, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the other side of the bed. A chill runs through you at the cold temperature in the room, goosebumps forming over your arms and your nipples hardening. Donghyuck wraps his arms around your middle and presses a kiss in the valley of your chest, moving over until he reaches your left nipple and taking it into his mouth.

Biting your lip, your hands find his hair and tug on the long strands. Donghyuck’s hands squeeze your sides and his fingers draw random, little lines over your bare skin as he sucks and plays with your nipples, switching between each one.

“Hyuck…” You whine, giving a particularly sharp tug to his hair when he bites down onto your right nipple. “Please…” You trail off.

“Hmm? Please what? What do you want.” He leans back and looks up at you. You comb your fingers through his hair, pushing it back away from his face and behind his ears. His eyes are clouded and hooded over by the thoughts of you that are speeding through his mind.

“Please, make love to me.” You say it shyly, your eyes looking over his face but not meeting his own. He can’t help but smile at your timidness. You act like it’s the first time those words came out of your mouth. He can’t help but find it endearing how you ask him to make love to you every single time you find yourselves in this position.

“Of course, anything for you.” He connects your lips again, keeping the slow and steady pace from before. He shifts around as he moves his boxers away. Breaking the kiss, you move his hands away and pump his shaft, glancing up at him as he leans back with his weight on his hands and his head leaning back.

He lets out whines every time you twist your wrist, and you almost want to take a moment and stay this way, loving the sounds coming from Donghyuck’s mouth and how he looks as he pants beneath you. However, the tension growing between your legs makes you stop and sit up, pulling off your own pajama bottoms and underwear, throwing them somewhere along with your shirt.

Donghyuck grips your hips with one hand, the other pressing his middle finger to your slick folds, watching you squirm from above as he slides his finger through slowly.

“Just— Can you just do something already?” You almost whine out, grabbing onto his arm hard enough that you leave crescent moons in his skin.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure.” With your permission, Donghyuck positions himself at your entrance and slowly brings your hips down, watching your reaction throughout it all. The way your jaw slacks and drops open to the way you swallow when your hips meet with his, closing your eyes in pleasure at how he manages to fit inside you so perfectly. When everyone says your soulmate is made specifically for you, they really do mean in every way possible.

You sit like that for a moment, before opening your eyes and looking at your lover. He helps you move your hips up and back down, you let out a gsap at the sparks that fly up your spine. Your hips start to move in unison, yours grinding down and his moving up to meet yours in a steady rhythm, like a dance to music only you two can hear.

Your nails hurt when they move over his shoulders and chest, leaving temporary marks, but Donghyuck doesn’t mind. Actually, he loves it when you tug on his hair and scratch up his back, his whines turning into full out groans when you lean in and attach your lips to the side of his neck, pressing hot kisses down to his collarbone and biting down gently in the same place this whole situation started.

“H-Hyuck, I—” Before you know it, you’re so close to your orgasm, it’s basically right in front of you to reach out and accept.

“I know, baby, I know. You can come, I got you.” He answers back messily, using the last of his energy to keep your hips in place and drive himself into you. You let out a shriek at the sudden pleasure, only a few more deep thrusts into your hole and you’re falling over him as your orgasm spreads to every crevice of your body.

Donghyuck loves the way your muscles seize and flutter around him, making him pant and his thrusts become sloppy as he comes as well, his warm seed filling you up as he rides through his high. You both fall into the mattress below, you on top of Donghyuck, too tired to roll over and opting to just rest on his sweaty chest.

“I think that was way better than sleeping.” He says, his chest rumbling underneath you as he speaks.

“What a good way to tire ourselves out.” You yawn.

In the last few moments before your tired bodies fall asleep, you find Donghyuck’s hand and intertwine your fingers together, happily and contently falling asleep with the fresh air coming through the window and the sunlight now fully streaming into the room.

In the late summer before your and Donghyuck’s last year of university, you attend a wedding. Not just any wedding: Yuqi and Lucas’ wedding.

Although the ceremony is held outside, there’s a nice breeze that keeps the guests from getting too hot and sweaty in the summer sun. The whole wedding is held in a botanical garden and the place is decorated in white and purple, lilacs and daisies filling vases everywhere you go and freshening the air with their scent.

You and Donghyuck walk into the room inside the administrative building that’s designated for the bride. Yuqi is there, her face shining brightly with happiness and a glow that can’t be stolen from her today.

When you walk in, you let out a sound of delight at how pretty your college friend looks in her wedding dress, taking note of the chamomile flowers that adorn her hairpiece.

“Ah, I can’t believe you’re here.” She all but shrieks, embracing you tightly with her small bouquet still in her hands. After she gives Donghyuck a small, welcoming hug, she backs away to look at both of you.

“You look amazing today, I can’t believe you’re actually getting married. Congratulations.” You say sincerely.

“I can’t believe it either, actually. I feel like we’ve been planning this for forever, and now the day is finally here.” She recalls, a blissful look in her eyes even though you’re aware of how much stress she has had during the past few months over this one day.

“Are you nervous?” Donghyuck asks and you nudge his side and send him a look for asking a question like that.

“No, I’m not,” Yuqi laughs, “I feel one hundred percent happy. Like I’m starting the next part of my life with the one I love.”

“I’m glad you can spend the rest of your life with your soulmate, you’re definitely luckier than most.” You muse, and she suddenly softens her expression and takes your hand in hers, gently holding onto you.

“I’m not marrying my soulmate. I’m marrying the one I love. It just happens to be the same person.”

After bidding your farewells and good lucks, you and Donghyuck walk out of the room and head to where the ceremony will be held. He pulls out of sunglasses, propping them on the edge of his nose, and then grabbing your hand and strolling through the exhibits on the way to the ceremony grounds.

Yuqi’s words ring in your head throughout the peaceful walk, specifically how happy she looked to be marrying the one she loves. Somehow, you never thought about separating soulmate from lover; those two people have always been one in your head. You always thought that there can’t be a soulmate without a lover, and there can’t be a lover without a soulmate.

But the moment with Yuqi reminded you of the first time Donghyuck properly confessed to you, the words you can still hear floating through your head whenever your mind wanders off and thinks about him.

“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”

Maybe Donghyuck has been wiser than you this whole time. Not that you’d ever admit that to his face, unless you’d like to hear about it at least three times a week for the rest of your life.

Every memory— every year that has passed by with Donghyuck has only grown the idea of soulmate and lover further apart in your mind, and it took the matrimony of your close friends to realize it. You don’t think it’s a bad thing; in fact, you’re lucky that you can call your lover and your soulmate the same person.

You feel something tugging at your hand, and when you look over at your lover, he looks at you expectedly.

“Huh?” You say, dumbfounded since you’ve been in your own little world for who knows how long. Donghyuck laughs, bending over a bit at the funny, bewildered look on your face before straightening up and looking over to you again.

“I said, what colors should we do for our wedding? I personally think I look good in red, but I’m sure we can figure out something less contrasting.” He explains nonchalantly, you realize he’s kicking a random pebble around as you walk. Looking around, confused out of your mind, you turn back to him.

“Are we getting married?”

“Well, yeah,” He does something between a laugh and a scoff before leaning next to you, a serious look that permeates through the shade of his sunglasses, “You do want to marry me, right?”

Your brain is in a complete fritz. If you had a whole day to think about this you could maybe make up a sentence that resembles a sophisticated answer, but you can only shrug.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?” Donghyuck stops walking, “I just asked you if you want to get married, and you reply with ‘uh, yeah, I guess.’” He mocks your tone and it makes you roll your eyes at him.

“This is the first time we’ve ever talked about this and I got nervous.” You explain, making him relax and stand in front of you with his hands leisurely resting in his pockets. “Of course, someday I would like to marry you. I guess you’re… tolerable.” Donghyuck pushes you away from him and quickly walks down the path, twice as fast as he was walking before. You laugh and follow him, running slightly to catch up.

“Excuse me, Miss, would you like to leave a wish for the happy couple?” A sudden voice stops you, making you turn back around. A man stands with a camera, looking at you expectedly.

“Uh, how?” You look from the camera and back up to him.

“I’ll take your picture. You can write a wish on it and hang it up over there.” He points to the dozens of polaroids already hung up a few feet away, random people posing in the photographs with different color writing on every picture.

“Let’s do it.” Donghyuck comes up behind you, no doubt catching the last part of what the photographer said and pushing you lightly over to where there’s better lighting while taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt. The photographer asks you to pose, and you and Donghyuck smile for the camera, your eyes slightly shut due to the sun beating down on top of you.

“Great, how about one more for yourselves?” The photographer asks as he waits for the photograph to develop and you agree. This time, Donghyuck wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer so that your back is against his chest. You feel him rest his cheek on your head and drape his other arm around your front. You grab onto his forearm, not knowing what to do with your hands, and then suddenly the picture is taken and the photographer hands over both of the developed photos.

You take the second picture out of Donghyuck’s hands, not being able to look away. The sun seems to hit both of you just right, and the slight candidness of the photo adds another layer of reality to the picture. Donghyuck has a small smile while his cheek is slightly squished against your head, but he still looks as handsome as ever.

“What wish should we leave them?” He asks, picking up a golden sharpie from the table nearby, somehow already having his sunglasses back on.

“Maybe just… Congratulations on getting married?” You suggest.

“And a million other people will have the same thing. We need to be memorable.” He stresses and taps the end of the sharpie against his head. “What do you wish for Lucas and Yuqi?”

“I wish…” You think about it for a moment, “For them to have a lifetime of memories that they can share until the very end.” You nod.

“Oh?” Donghyuck looks at you, “When did you become a poet?” He asks as he writes that down at the bottom of the first picture.

“I’ve always been like this. I’m glad you just now figured it out.” You reply sarcastically, to which Donghyuck replies back with his own sarcastic laugh. He hangs up your picture close to where Mark and Xiaojun hung up their’s, and then turns back around.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.” He pushes up his sunglasses with his ring finger and thumb, walking with swagger towards the ceremony and grabbing your hand while he’s passing by.

“If you’re going to be like this at our wedding, maybe I’ll have to change my mind…”

For one today being one of the most awaited days of your life, it started out pretty regularly.

You wake up from the ringing of your alarm, get ready, and go to your classes for the day. You had breakfast before you left, and lunch right before your last class of the day. Even work was boring as usual, but nothing beat going to the store afterwards.

When you got to the aisle filled with shoes, you were first puzzled by how many options there are. So many colors and styles, you didn’t expect to be so overwhelmed and accidentally spent almost an hour just looking at every individual pair. This had to be perfect. This was going to be a memory that you thought about for the rest of your life.

You call Donghyuck when you approach your front door, he answers almost immediately.

“Hey, love, what’s up?” He yawns through the words, and you can’t help but smile as you look down at the bag in your hands.

“Oh, I was just wondering when you’ll be home.” You open the front door and shut it behind you, taking off your shoes.

“I’m right outside of our building. Did you just get home?” He asks, no doubt hearing the front door from your side of the line.

“I’ll talk to you when you get up here then, see you.” You send a kiss through the phone and abruptly end the call. If Donghyuck is right outside of the building he’ll be up to your apartment in just a few minutes.

You drop the rest of your things down at the front door and hurry into the kitchen, setting down the small white bag with a lace bow on top in the middle of the kitchen table, clearing the table of anything else. You slide into a seat at the table, fixing your clothes nervously as you hear the front door open. Not even a few seconds later, Donghyuck walks into the kitchen, his eyes moving from you to the white bag and back to you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, dead serious. Your nerves and anxiety, and maybe even some fear, must be strong enough for him to feel. You shake your head and pat the chair next to you. Donghyuck takes a seat, he came through the door so quickly that he didn’t even take his shoes or his jacket off yet.

“Open the bag.” You can’t help the excited smile and small clap of your hands as he reaches out and holds the bag. He gives you a quizzical look, but you only nod to encourage him.

Donghyuck unties the lace ribbon, looking down into the bag for a few moments. You can’t read his face and you can’t feel any emotions from him, and your anxiety grows tenfold. He reaches in and pulls out the little shoes, a light blue color with white stitching. They’re so small, they can sit in Donghuck’s hand perfectly.

“What are these?” He asks, still looking at the shoes in his hand.

“Well, they’re shoes… For babies. For our baby.”

At your reply, he does nothing. He doesn’t react at all, which only worsens your nerves and makes your leg twitch up and down as you wait for him to say something. He swallows and sets the shoes on the table, still looking at then with a blank expression.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah…” You reply, reaching out to put a hand over Donghyuck’s, “Say something.”

“I’m not sure what to say, this is very… sudden.” He tilts his head. Your stomach drops at the lack of emotion in his voice. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, but it was not this stoic expression in his face. Whatever traces of a smile that you had on your lips vanishes and you grip his hand tighter.

“I know this is not what we had planned. I know this is kind of… not good timing, since we’re still in school and not married, yet. But this is what fate had planned for us, I guess?” You’re not sure if you’re trying to console him or convince him, but the icky feeling in your stomach tells you Donghyuck’s reaction to the situation is not good.

“Yeah, fate did us real good.” Donghyuck replies sarcastically and you drop your hands from his, resting them in your lap. You can see the tears forming in his eyes even when he tries to look away from you, and you can feel the fear that’s boiling and overflowing inside him.

“I know you’re scared, I’m scared too. But we can get through this to—” You’re suddenly cut off by Donghyuck standing up abruptly.

“I’m not scared. I’m worried.” He rubs his face with his hands. “I’m worried that I won’t be able to support this kid. I’m worried I won’t be able to be here for you through it all. I’m so worried I’m going to end up like my father that I feel like it’s going to eat me alive.” He runs his hands through his hair, pulling his head back as he looks at the ceiling and paces around the kitchen.

“I never knew your father, but from what you told me, you’re nothing like him.” You stand up too, your legs feeling like jello.

“No, you don’t understand. What if I say something wrong and ruin this kid’s life like my father did to me? What if I can’t find a job after we graduate? Are you going to support all three of us? I can’t let you live like my mom did, it was too hard to watch back then and it’ll be even harder to watch now.” He suddenly stops, not giving you a chance to speak as he looks from you, to the little shoes, and back to you. “I can’t.”

“You… can’t what?” There’s panic rising in your voice as he shakes his head and backs away.

“I can’t be here, not around you or this baby. I won’t be a good father.” He turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving you standing dumbfounded with tears brimming in your eyes. You move to the front door, watching at Donghyuck’s shaking hands pick up his keys and wallet.

“Are you leaving me? Right now?” He doesn’t look at you and he doesn’t answer, opening the door, “Wait!” You cry out. He stops, his shoulders tense and his hand clenching the doorknob.

“What about that promise you made me? Huh? You said that it’s not just a ‘you’ or a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ You said you’ll do everything you can to not hurt us.” You ask, recalling the promise Donghyuck made back when you two were young college students, and a promise he has repeated and vowed to you over and over again every time your relationship got into a rough patch.

“I think… that what I’m doing is what’s best for us. It’ll be better if I wasn’t here. ___...” He looks back at your teary eyed figure with one last look of regret, “I love you. I’m so sorry.” And with that, he closes the door, leaving you all alone in your cold and dark apartment.

You jumped off of the bridge. You jumped off a while ago, actually, but the fall took longer than you expected. You thought Donghyuck would be there to catch you at the bottom, but he’s nowhere to be seen now. The fall was peaceful and enjoyable, a soft limbo between making the hardest decision in your life and the ultimate consequence of that decision. The fall was long and made you feel faux comfort, so when you reached the very end, it ended up hurting a lot worse. You knew jumping off of a bridge would kill you, so why did you jump?

You’re not sure how long you stand by the front door, but it’s long enough that the sun sets outside and the room turns dark. You stare at the door, waiting for Donghyuck to come back. You wait for the door to open and for him to run through, hugging you and whispering that he’ll be here for you. You can only walk up to the door and slide down onto your knees, your forehead pressed against the cool wood as you wait.

Tears run down your cheeks silently, your eyes red and your head hurts. You keep your forehead pressed against the door for the whole night, waiting for him to come back. You wait, and wait, and wait. Donghyuck never comes back.

Your heart rips open from pain, it feels like it’s bleeding onto the floor in front of you. Your mind is numb from any other emotion, your body is cold from sitting on the floor, but you can’t get yourself to stand up. That’s when you realize, this is it. This is how Donghyuck hurts you.

What a sick and twisted way for fate to finally serve up her plan. You almost forgot who Donghyuck is supposed to be; the one who loves you, and the one who hurts you the most.

— read epilogue here

[ctrlemis]

𝐅𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ! finally breaking

word count: 1.5k

Rei wasn't a bad friend. No, contrary to current belief, she really wasn't a bad friend. Maybe it seemed like she hated Wonyoung, and she hated Jungwon, and she was doing it for her own gain, but she wasn't. In fact, it hurt her more than she showed. It always did.

Rei was always forgiving. She forgave everyone, even when they didn't deserve it. Maybe that was her fatal flaw. But she did it anyway, again and again. It was ingrained in her, like how she dotted her "i"s with hearts, or the lyrics to Sweater Weather. It was something that was just a part of her.

It hurt when Wonyoung told her to fuck off, it hurt when she left the groupchat. When she walked past Liz like it was nothing, like 18 years of friendship meant nothing - her heart fucking broke into pieces.

But it hurt more knowing that there were two sides to the same coin. Having chosen one side for so long, then finding out everything else - she, for the first time in a long time, chose something else. Someone else. In doing so, choosing herself.

“And, scene.” Y/N said, before bursting out in giggles, jumping up excitedly. “God, Rei! This is so good. And sad.” At that, their eyebrows furrow, tilting their head. “Is this from personal experience?” They hold up the paper script of their short, yet detailed scene, about two friends, one hopelessly in love with the other. Gulping, she shook her head.

“N-no, I got some inspo from my older sister.” She told them, and they nodded, putting the script on top of their binder, gathering their stuff. “Oh, also, I wanted to know if you wanted to, you know, hang out.” Y/N stopped from putting their stuff in their bag, looking up with a grin.

“Sure! But you don't have plans with your friends?” They questioned, loading all of their things into their bag and grabbing their apple juice. Fuck. Rei bit her lip as she slowly grabbed her supplies and put them in her bag as well.

“Nope. I'm free today.” She tried to grin, but from Y/N’s expression, they didn't buy it.

“You haven't been hanging out with your friends lately.” When Rei gaped at their observation, they shrugged. “I notice things. A Lot of things. More than people think. Did you guys fight? Do you wanna talk about it?” They slid back in their seats, and Rei slowly slipped back into her own, understanding Y/N wasn't really asking, but not in a pushing way, like how Liz would. No, it was deeper than that. Y/N had been watching and observing her for the two weeks they've been hanging out, noticing the fact she no longer posted Liz or Sunoo on her story, or tweeted at Wonyoung or Riki.

But Rei wasn't an asshole. She wasn't going to paint Wonyoung or Jungwon or any of them in a bad light. That was never her intention, from the beginning. She just wanted happiness, for everyone. Without people getting hurt. Even if that meant her own heart twisted and turned and crumbled up until the fire went out.

“To be honest, I wanted some space,” Rei tells them instead. “We had a difference of opinion, and I decided to remove myself from the equation.” Rei nodded, as if to convince them and herself, but Y/N eyes pierce into her. Except they aren't filled with malice, or anger. It's a look of knowingness, or understanding. A look that she hasn't gotten since her middle school dance. Y/N’s warm hands cover her own, squeezing them.

“It will all work out, okay?” They say, in a more serious tone than usual, and Rei nods, but they shake their head, squeezing her hands harder. “No, don't misunderstand. Everything, it will all work out in the end. Okay?” The way they look at her, like they know everything despite her not uttering a single word, something inside her breaks. Before she can understand what's happening, her eyesight is blurred and she's being embraced by the other, holding them like they'll never let go. And then she realizes she's crying. She's finally cracking, her hard outer shell breaking away, leaving her feeling 14 years old again, small and afraid again.

“Thank you,” She whispers to Y/N, who holds her and hums in acknowledgment.

Rei had only known love - real love - in her whole life seven times. Twice with her parents, four times platonically, and one only she knew, kept closest to her heart. But in that moment, Rei thinks she has room in her heart for one more.

Rei feels way better than before.

After her mini breakdown in the café, they left, Y/N making several stops on their way back to her apartment. After they got there, they revealed they had gotten food. A lot of food.

“When I'm sad, I like to eat, but I didn't know what you liked, so I got you a bit of everything.” Kebabs, Shrimp and Chicken on a stick, Pizza, Sushi, Pork, Naan and Curry Chicken, Mole Chicken and Rice. They had gone all out for her, just because she was sad. Rei could see why so many people liked Y/N. They were so selflessly themself. Unapologetically, originally, Y/N.

“You remind me of Haruhi from Ouran Highschool Host Club.” She says thoughtfully as she rips off a piece of Naan, biting it. They stop what they're doing, Kebab halfway into their mouth.

“Is it because you thought i was a homosexual undeveloped poor little boy when you first saw me?” They deadpan, and Rei almost chokes out of amusement. She looks at Y/N with a grin, laughing.

“That is so random? And no! I didn't think you were a poor little boy-”

“Homosexual undeveloped poor little boy.” They correct, and she laughs harder.

“Sorry, a homosexual undeveloped poor little boy, no i did not think that of you. You're just really likable.” She pulls a shrimp off the stick and nibbles the top. “Everyone gravitates towards you, I don't know.” They nod understandingly.

“Oh yeah. I don't know, I guess because I have so many personality traits and I accentuate some more than others with certain people, so everyone is comfortable around me, and therefore they like being around me.” They shrug, grabbing the pizza box and following Rei to the couch, plopping the pizza on the glass table.

“Ah, that makes sense.” She nods, grabbing the remote. “What do you wanna watch?” She asks, clicking through the streaming channels before landing on Funimation.

“Oh, now I wanna watch Ouran Host Club, that show was such a banger.” Y/N says, biting into their pizza, and Rei nods.

Rei doesn't remember when she fell asleep, but she wakes up when she hears keys jangling and feet walking around through the apartment. She blinks a couple of times, shaking the sleep away. When her vision clears and her ears come back to reality, she sees Y/N cleaning up the garbage from earlier, whistling as they did so. She sits up, surprised.

“You didn't have to do that, you know.” She speaks up, and Y/N jumps, spitting out a string of curses. They hold their hand to their chest, looking her way.

“You scared me! Jesus, I thought someone broke in. Your sleep voice is scary.” They tease, and she rolls her eyes. “And I don't mind. I woke up, and you were asleep, and you've been so welcoming and friendly so I wanted to help out.” They grab their cup from the table and join Rei on the couch again. “Hey, don't you live with Gaeul, right?” They ask, and Rei nods, throat feeling dry as she shakes the sleep from her body. “Where is she? Are you guys not talking too?” They ask nonchalantly, sipping from their cup.

“Uh, no. No, Gae’s the peacemaker. She wants everyone to get along, and she's tried her best to make that happen but I just need space right now.” Y/N nods knowingly, like they somehow knew exactly what she meant.

“Well, i have to go, it's late and i promised Bahiyyih i would help her with her English paper, but you should come out tomorrow.” Y/n offers, standing up. Rei does too, and they both go towards the doorway, Y/N stopping to grab their things. “We won't be doing anything big or fancy, just watching tv and eating, but you're my friend now, and Bahiyyih loves you already too, so you're her friend too.” They smile as they stop at the door. “ Seriously. We both would love it.”

“I'll text you tomorrow morning if I decide to come. Have a good night, Y/N.” They repeat the same, and walk out. Rei goes to the balcony in the hallway to make sure they get to their car safely. After making sure they do, she goes back inside, closing the door and going to her bedroom. She flops down on the bed in her day clothes, looking at the ceiling.

Rei wasn't a bad friend. That's what she told herself every day she woke up since highschool. She wasn't a bad person, she just didn't always know what to do. Sometimes she messed up, and sometimes she stumbled. But she did what she thought was right, and in the end, she would live with the outcome of it all. Even if it broke her.

a/n: HELP I WROTE THIS AND IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE CUTE BUT ITS LOWKEY SAD- anyways reihiyn best friends era when??

summary: wonyoung and jungwon don’t have much in common. the fact they’re friends - best friends, and roommates at that - is a wonder that their friend group fail to figure out. the only thing they share are three letters in their name. oh, and the fact that they both like the music major freshman who works at the coffee shop on campus

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taglist ! (open)

@jungwonize @jangwonie @hiqhkey @jihyoscrown @bigtoewinwin @soobin-g @luvhyun3 @soobinyz @soobin-chois @chiyuv @uwudaizy @lil-iva @jjuncidio @c9tnoos @enhacolor @abdiitcryy

[angstysebfan]

The Past Can Break You - 2

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

AU: Avengers

Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for aa few years. As far as you’re concerned he is the one. But what happens when a blast from the actual past shows up?

A/N: Ive seen a lot stories of Bucky getting his first love from the 40′s back. And I’ve always wondered... what would happen if he was dating someone already? Reader is from this time. Not proofread.

Warning: Smut 18+ only please

--

When Bucky made it up to your shared room he slowly and silently opened the door. You were sitting on your bed, your back facing the door, but he could tell you were crying by the shaking of your shoulders. It broke his heart to see you so upset.

He closed the door behind him and walked over to sit next to you. He wrapped his metal arm around your waist and pulled you into his embrace. You then openly sobbed into his chest. Bucky caressed your back and kissed you on the head, allowing you to cry.

When you started to calm down you sighed deeply, sniffed, and said, “Are you going to break up with me now?”

Bucky’s heart completely broke. He put his finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. “No, baby. Of course not. I love you. I love you so much! Why would you think that?” He asks.

“Because before we started dating you told me about Dot and how much she meant to you. You were going to propose when you got home from the war. Well here is your chance to live the life you wanted with the girl you wanted,” you say as tears again start to leak from your eyes.

“Baby, I’m not the same man I was then. Yes, I still have love for Dot, but I’m so madly in love with you. I promise,” he said, kissing your forehead, nose, and then lips.

“I’m going to help Dot become acclimated to the world now, and help her settle. But I promise I will always be here for you, ok?” He asks.

You nod, feeling slightly better. “I love you,” you say.

“I love you too. I’ve gotta get down to the lab. I promised Dot I would be down there with her. But I won’t be long,” he says before kissing you again and then leaving.

You sit and wait for him, hoping it wouldn’t take too long. But after 4 hours you give up on him and go to sleep. You hope that he will keep his word on still loving you. You don’t want to lose him. You love him too much.

- -

1 month later

Over the last several weeks, you’ve only seen Bucky’s about a handful of times. He’s always off with Dot, helping her learn the ways of today, and helping her deal with her “trauma”. Every time he tries to give you a little time she always calls for him saying how upset she is or that she’s about to have a panic attack. You try and be understanding but at the same time it’s really starting to annoy you.

One of the worst things is that he barely even sleeps with you anymore. This morning you woke up to an empty bed, yet again, and head downstairs for breakfast. When you got down to the common room you heard the sound of Dot’s giggles and saw her sitting on the couch with Bucky, her feet on his lap. At that point you lost your appetite, so you went up to the roof instead.

After an hour you hear the door to the roof open as you’re staring off into the distance. You feel arms wrapped around your waist as a stubble chin rest on your shoulder. You decide to ignore him and continue staring off into the distance and several thoughts past of your mind.

“Was looking for you,” Bucky said as he kissed your shoulder. “Why you up here all alone?”

You sigh, “well I’m used to being alone a lot these days. And I guess I didn’t feel like sitting there watching you and Dot flirt in the common room,“ you say annoyed.

You hear him sigh behind you as he puts his forehead on your shoulder. “I know, and I’m so sorry that I haven’t been around much. I’m just trying to do my best to help her,” He said.

“I promise I’ll try and do better at managing my time so that I can spend more time with my girl,“ he says as he kisses the back of your head and trails kisses all the way down to your neck.

He turns you around in his arms and rests his forehead on yours. Before you know it you are both swaying to no music, until Bucky starts singing your song. You wrap your arms around his neck as you both slow dance to your song as Bucky sings. When he finishes you kiss him passionately.

“Tonight we will have date night. No Dot, no interruptions, just you, me, and that new lingerie you bought a few weeks ago,” he says as he continues to sway you.

You smile widely at the thought of spending a night alone with your boyfriend. “Oh Bucky, that sounds amazing! I’ve missed you so much, and I get what your doing, but it’s hard,” you say.

“I know. I’ve been neglecting you and it ends now. You are my priority, not Dot. And I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. Tonight,” he says.

You kiss him in reply.

- -

Later that night, after dinner and another bout of dancing, you come out of the bathroom with your new lingerie set. You stand in the doorway staring at your half naked boyfriend. Bucky’s eyes darken with lust as he starts to stalk towards you like a lion about to pounce.

“You look good enough to eat, baby,” he says huskily. He then pulls you into his arms with a searing kiss.

He leads you to the bed and throws you on it, before jumping on top, connecting your lips again. His hand travels down to your core and he moves your panties to the side, putting pressure on your clit. He starts rubbing at an intensely fast pace, making you lose your breath. Very quickly he pulls your first orgasm from you.

Before you come back to earth you feel your new panties being ripped from you, as well as the bra. Bucky loved to rip your underwear all the time. He kissed his way down your stomach to your wet core and dove in. Your back arched off the bed.

“Oh my god, Bucky!” You moaned as your hand pulled his hair.

He then stuck two metal fingers into you and started pumping. You knew it wouldn’t be long now. You couldn’t stand the amazing sensation of his fingers and tongue. You started to feel the build up of pressure in your belly.

“Bucky! I’m going to cum,” you cry as you again orgasm on his face.

After a moment Bucky kisses his way back up your lips. You taste yourself on his tongue, which makes you wetter, if that’s possible. “You are the best thing I have ever tasted, Doll. Truly exquisite,” he says.

He then pulls off his pants and boxers before lining up with you. He slowly starts to push in, which feels amazing. After a moment he completely bottoms out in you. He kissed you, and just as he is about to thrust, you are both interrupted by FRIDAY.

“Sergeant Barnes, Ms. Jones is requesting to see you sir,” she says.

Bucky groans into your neck, “Tell her I’m busy and we’ll talk in the morning,” he says.

“I’m sorry sir, but she appears to be having a panic attack and having trouble breathing,” FRIDAY says.

“Shit,” Bucky says as he pulls out of you and grabs his sweats. He looks at you guiltily, “I’m sorry. I’ll be back in 10 minutes tops, and then we can finish what we started,” he says before running out the door.

You stare at the door as it closes in shock. He just left you in the middle of sex for his ex. What the hell! You lay there and wait, but after 2 hours you decide to get dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. You take your ruined lingerie and throw it out. You lay back on your bed thinking about how you will have a stern discussion when he comes back.

Before you know it, another 2 hours go by and it’s the middle of the night. You’re more than angry, now you are hurt. You grab your pillow and your blanket and leave your shared room with Bucky, and head to your old room. After locking the door, you inform FRIDAY not to let anyone, especially Bucky in. You climb into bed and allow a few tears before falling asleep.

- -

Bucky woke up the next morning disoriented. When he realized he was still in Dot’s room he panicked. After he finally got Dot to calm down last night he went to leave but Dot begged him to stay until she fell asleep. He must have dozed off too. He quickly got out of the bed and quietly exited the room.

Steve was coming down the hall and saw Bucky’s coming out of Dot’s room. “ why are you in Dot‘s room?” Steve asked.

“She had a panic attack last night and I came to calm her down and fell asleep. Y/N is going to be so pissed at me,” Bucky said.

“Wasn’t last night date night?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded, “Yea and Dot interrupted right in the middle of sex. I left Y/N there naked on the bed like a jackass,” Bucky said angrily.

“You left her in the middle of sex to deal for your ex!? Why didn’t you ask me to deal with it?” Steve yelled.

“I don’t know. Dot says she only feel comfortable with me. I’m just trying to help her. But I’m going to lose my girl in the process. I’ll talk to Dot later about it, but things have to change. I can’t keep ignoring my girl,” Bucky said.

Steve nodded, “Yeah, we’ll good luck with talking to her after last night,” he said before slapping Bucky’s shoulder and leaving.

Bucky sighed and went to your shared room, only to see that you weren’t there. He checked the kitchen, common room, roof, gym, and lab but couldn’t find you. The last place he went was to your old bedroom. He found the door locked, which told him he found you.

“FRIDAY, can you please open the door?” He asked the AI.

“I’m sorry Sergeant Barnes. But I was requested by Agent Y/L/N to not let anyone, especially you in,” FRIDAY said.

Bucky’s heart dropped. He really messed up.

- -

Chapter 1 / Chapter 3

A lot happening in this chapter. Bucky being stupid, but at least he is aware. Now can he fix it? will the reader let him? And what else will Dot do? Feedback is appreciated!

Permanent Taglist:  @hailmary-yramliah @tuiccim @comedictragedy @cap-n-stuff @thefridgeismybestie @swiftmind @aleaisntcreative @lookiamtrying @pinknerdpanda @morganclaire4 @iamvalentinaconstanza @verygraphicink @im-squished @joannie95 @peace-love-hobbitness @connie326 @amandamdiehl @harrysthiccthighss @its-izzys @roserose26 @rebekahdawkins @elegantobservationstudentsblog @broco8 @shinykoalacat @white-wolf1940 @jessyballet

Story Taglist: @afuckingshituniverse @wintrfld 

[jule1122]

Malex Fic - I’m a happy idiot

Trying to write my way out of a slump with some secret marriage fluff.  No warnings just lots of love.

I’m a happy idiot on AO3

Summary: 4 times Michael and Alex almost told someone they were married and 2 times they didn't have to. 

Title from "Happy Idiot" by TV on the Radio 

Michael’s half asleep, boneless and fucked out when he feels Alex’s lips on his forehead.

“See you later, love you,” Alex whispers into his hair.

It’s the smell of coffee that gets him to open his eyes.  Michael turns his head and watches Alex set a mug on his nightstand, steam curling in the cool air of their bedroom.  He reaches out and barely catches Alex’s hand, their fingertips tucking into each other.  “I love you, you should marry me,” he says, thinking about how he wants mornings like this for the rest of his life.

Alex’s eyes widen for a moment, but he steps closer to the bed and smiles.  “Ok,” he says as if it’s that easy.

But that’s the thing.  It is that easy,  has been that easy since Michael kissed him on an empty patio.  So he doesn’t ask Alex if he’s sure, just sits up and pulls Alex down on the bed next to him, the adrenaline from the realization that he’s going to marry Alex waking him up.  “Call off work while I shower.  The courthouse opens,” he squints at the clock, “in an hour.”

“You want to get married today?” Alex asks, laughing.

“Can you think of a reason to wait?” Michael counters.  They never really talked about marriage.  Michael assumed they would get there eventually, but now that it’s a possibility, Michael’s never wanted anything more.

Alex bites his lip, smile still showing through, and shakes his head.  

“I didn’t think so,” Michael pulls him down for a kiss.  “Now get moving.  The sooner we get married, the sooner we can start our honeymoon.”

Sanders

“I’m guessing by that smile on your face you didn’t call off yesterday because of some alien crisis.”

Michael jumps a foot in the air, hitting his head on the hood of the car he’s working on.  “Why do you always do that?” he complains, glaring at Sanders.

“Because it never stops being funny,” Sanders laughs.  “You’d think by now you’d have learned to pay attention to your surroundings, makes me wonder just how useful your powers are if a gimpy old man can sneak up on you.  Now back to my question.  I know you weren’t sick so what was so important I had to tell Ethel Myers her car wasn’t going to be ready for another day?”

“Ethel Myers should have stopped driving five years ago so the extra day was a blessing to everyone on the road,” Michael argues, hoping to distract Sanders.

But Sanders just stands there, arms crossed and foot tapping, waiting for Michael to answer.  And shit, he and Alex really should have talked about what they were going to tell people, but they’d been too busy celebrating.

“Alex and I had, uh, stuff to take care of,” he finally mumbles.

“Stuff?” Sanders repeats with a disbelieving snort.

“Yeah, you know, house stuff,” Michael makes a vague gesture with his hands.

“You’d think after a few years your ‘house stuff’ would stop interfering with your work,” Sanders rolls his eyes.  “But I guess that explains the limp.”

“Oh my god!”  Michael feels his face heat up.  “That’s not what I meant!”  But before he can come up with a better explanation. Sanders walks away, shaking his head.

Eduardo

When Alex gets to work, he finds a note on his desk asking him to report to the director’s office.

He knocks lightly on Eduardo’s open door.  “You wanted to see me?” he asks when Eduardo waves him inside.

“Yes, come sit,” he gestures to the chairs in front of his desk.  “I’m glad you are feeling better.”

“Thank you, it was just one of those twenty-four hour bugs,” Alex shrugs, holding Eduardo’s eyes so he doesn’t appear evasive. 

“I’m sure you have things to catch up on so I won’t keep you,” Eduardo says with a too bright smile, handing Alex a file and a pen.  “But I wanted to handle this in person.”

Alex opens the file and finds a form labeled “Change in Employee Status.”  It’s completely filled out except for his signature, listing his status as married with an effective date of yesterday and Michael’s name filled in for spouse.  Alex freezes before slowly looking back up at Eduardo.  “How?”

“Alex,” Eduardo chides, “we probe the mysteries of the universe.  The Roswell Courthouse hardly presents a challenge.”

When Alex doesn't respond, Eduardo sighs and continues.  “I have alerts on all my high level operatives’ names and social security numbers in case a mission gets them into trouble.  It’s not often, I get good news.  And this is very good news.  Congratulations to you and Michael.”

“Thank you,” Alex gives Eduardo a genuine smile.  He signs the form, but hesitates before handing the folder back.  “We haven’t told anyone yet.”

“I think I’ve proven I can keep a secret as long as necessary,” Eduardo accepts the file back, but then it’s his turn to hesitate.  He takes another folder from his desk, weighing it in his hands before giving it to Alex.  “I can expedite a name change, if that’s something you are interested in,” he says gently.

Alex just nods and stands up without opening the folder, but he takes it with him as he leaves.  It’s something he and Michael didn’t talk about yesterday as they let the joy of being married carry them through the day.  But Alex knows what he wants.  Once he tells Michael, he’ll let Eduardo handle the logistics while he lets go of the weight of the Manes' name and embraces what it means to be Alexander Guerin.

Isobel

Michael closes his eyes as the credits of Land Before Time start scrolling, Isobel’s hand stroking his hair almost lulling him to sleep.  Alex and Kyle both had to work late so Isobel has suggested a movie night for the two of them.  It has been an unusual chill evening by Isobel’s standards, and Michael is too relaxed to even consider moving.  Maybe he’ll text Alex to come pick him up on his way home.

“Tell me a secret,” Isobel says quietly, surprising Michael into opening his eyes.

He bites his lip to keep from telling her the truth.  It’s been a week since he married Alex, and he’s dying to tell someone.  But Liz is at a conference in New York and Max went with her, renting a car to drive back so they can have their long delayed road trip.  He and Alex agreed it was only fair to wait until they returned to tell everyone so as much as he wants to, he doesn’t confess.  “You first,” he says instead.

Isobel’s hand stills in his hair.  “I’m pregnant.”

Michael sits up so fast his head spins.  Isobel’s eyes are comically wide and her hand is clasped over her mouth.  “Iz?”

“I can’t believe I said that!  I haven’t even told Kyle yet.”

He looks at her carefully, feeling like this is something he should be able to see. “A baby?” he finally asks.

Isobel nods, her eyes filling with tears.

“That’s. . .,” he shakes his head.  “Amazing.”

“Terrifying,” she says at the same time.

“I can’t wait to tell Valenti I knew before he did,” Michael says just to make her laugh.

It works, and she shoves him gently.  “Stop it.”

But she still looks a little terrified, so he takes pity on her.  “He’s going to be over the moon, you know that.”

“I do,” she nods.  “He’s going to be such a great dad.”

“If you say so,” Michael teases with a shrug before pulling her in for a hug.  “You’ll be a better mother.”

Isobel squeezes him tightly before pulling back and wiping her eyes.  “Do you ever think about how happy we are - Max and Liz, me and Kyle, you and Alex - and get scared.”

“Sometimes,” Michael admits.  “I used to worry I didn’t deserve it, all this happiness and love.  But Alex does, and my happiness is his happiness.  Or at least that’s what he says,” Michael shrugs, struggling to explain it.  “My happiness matters to him, he wants me to be happy, does what he can to make me happy.  Not letting myself enjoy it, fighting my own happiness started to feel like I was fighting him, rejecting him and that hurt us both.  So now I let myself enjoy it.  I deserve to be happy and so do you.”

Isobel rests her head on his shoulder, “Thank you.”  When she sits back up she looks at his face and laughs.  “Love makes you sappy.”

“I know,” Michael smiles.

“You love him so much it’s disgusting.  But he loves you just as much so I guess it works.”

Michael thinks of the rings they ordered, the words they choose to have engraved, and his smile widens.  “You have no idea.”

Maria

“Mimi seemed really good today,” Alex looks over at Maria as they walk back to her truck.

“She did, didn’t she,” Maria agrees, her smile only a little wistful.  “Heath’s treatment seems to be working.  I mean I’ll never get her back completely, but at least I’m not losing her anymore.”

“Don’t count Liz out yet,” Alex squeezes her hand.  “Now that she and Heath are working together without keeping secrets, a cure is a real possibility.”

“And don’t think I forget how much of a difference Deep Sky’s resources are making in their progress,” Maria swings their joined hands.

“Eduardo is happy to help,” Alex deflects her attempt to credit him easily.

Maria just gives him a knowing look, but doesn’t say anything as they get into the truck, and she heads back to Roswell.  After a few minutes, she turns the radio down and glances over quickly at Alex.  “Speaking of doing well, are you going to tell me what is making you so happy?”

“What?” Alex feigns innocence. 

“Come on, Alex, don’t play dumb.  Psychic, remember?”  She cuts him off before he can even try and argue.  “And before you say anything about cheating, Greg’s noticed too.  So what is it?”

“Just had a great day with two of my favorite people, that’s all,” Alex tries to distract her.

“Alex, as much as you love spending time with me and Mimi, we both know it’s more than that.  You’re so happy you’re practically glowing.  And your aura,” Maria shakes her head.  “It’s never looked like this. I love seeing you so happy, I just want to know why.”

The softness in her voice and the kindness in her eyes are too much for him.  Alex is just about to tell her the truth when his phone beeps.  He looks down quickly, ignoring Maria’s grumbled, “Saved by the bell.”

He finds a text from Michael, “Look what came in the mail!” followed by a string of heart emojis.  He can’t hold back a quiet,”Oh” when he opens the attachment and finds a picture of their marriage license.  Alex quickly turns off his screen and looks out the window to hide the tears in his eyes.

“Everything ok?” Maria reaches over and takes his hand.

“Yeah,” Alex quickly reassures her.  “Michael just needs me to stop at the store on the way home.”

“Alex!  You don’t honestly expect me to believe that.”

“Oh look, we’re back.”  Alex breathes a sigh of relief when Maria pulls into the Pony’s parking lot, stopping next to his car.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Maria laughs.

“Love you, too,” Alex kisses her cheek before opening the door.

“Hey,” Maria catches his attention as he unlocks his car.  “You’ll tell me eventually, but until then, just know I’m happy for you, whatever it is.”

“Thanks,” Alex smiles and blows her another kiss before getting in his car.

Dallas

Michael runs into Dallas at the farmer’s market.  He’s walking past one of the floral booths when he spots Dallas with a bouquet of roses in one hand and lilies in the other.

“Hot date?” Michael asks, coming up to stand next to him.

“No,” Dallas startles slightly at Michael’s voice.  “I have a wedding this afternoon.  Really sweet couple, but they don’t have much money so I thought I would spruce up the chapel.”

“That’s nice,” Michael says neutrally. He never knows how to respond when Dallas mentions his church.  

“You know,” Dallas turns away from Michael, flowers still clutched in his hands.  “I can perform marriages outside the church too.  Backyards, restaurants, even bars.”

“That’s nice,” Michael’s not sure where Dallas is going with this until he follows his line of sight and realizes Dallas is looking at a booth a few aisles away where Alex is contemplating different varieties of honey.

“Thought you might want to know.”

Michael hasn’t looked away from Alex, but he doesn’t have to know Dallas is smiling.  As if sensing they are watching him - and knowing Alex he probably does - Alex turns and waves at them.  Michael can’t do anything to stop the smile that spreads over his own face as Alex looks between him and Dallas and sends Michael a questioning look when Dallas waves back at him still clutching a bouquet of flowers.

“So weddings,” Dallas clears his throat to regain Michael’s attention.  “They are really easy to customize.  Some people like to write their own vows, but there are plenty to choose from including a lot that aren’t tied to any religion.  In case you were wondering.”

Michael can’t resist one more linger look at Alex before turning back to Dallas.  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, squashing the twinge of guilt he feels at lying to him.  He and Alex have no intention of having a ceremony, but he can’t really tell Dallas his offer’s too late without explaining why.

“You do that,” Dallas sets the roses down and claps Michael on the shoulder.  He looks so happy at the idea of marrying Michael and Alex that he almost confesses, but Dallas turns to the cashier before Michael caves.

“I’ll take the lilies.  Leave the roses to the happy couple.”

Michael picks up the bouquet Dallas discarded, “I’ll take these,” he says pulling out his wallet.

“I thought you might,” Dallas looks back over at Alex, eyes twinkling when he catches Michael blushing.

Arturo

Michael and Alex walk hand in hand toward the Crashdown.  Max and Liz have finally returned and everyone is meeting for dinner to hear about their trip.  

“We should tell them tonight,” Michael says as they approach the diner.

“I don’t know,” Alex wrinkles his nose.  “Tonight is supposed to be about Max and Liz.  Let’s wait until our rings are ready and see who notices first.”

“I love you,” Michael laughs at the idea of letting everyone figure it out for themselves.  “My money’s on Liz.”

“I vote Rosa,” Alex disagrees before kissing Michael just as they reach the door.

“Guess we both lose,” Michael says when they walk in and come to an immediate standstill.  

“Surprise!” Everyone yells as Michael and Alex stare at the large banner hung over the counter.  “Congratulations Alex and Michael” is written in script and framed by wedding bells on each side.

“Who did you tell?” Alex whispers to Michael.

“No one,” Michael assures him. “You?”

Alex shakes his head, but his eyes slide to Eduardo who holds his hands up in innocence.  “I promised I would keep it a secret.  I had nothing to do with this.”

Michael looks over at Isobel and narrows his eyes, “Iz, did you break into my head.”

“No, I did not,” Isobel protests.  “We were all just as surprised as you when we saw this.  Well, more surprised since we didn’t even know you were married.”

“Someone ordered that,” Michael argues, pointing at the banner.

“You know,” Arturo steps out from behind the counter, “The Roswell Daily Record publishes vital statistics.  Births, deaths, marriages.  Reading the paper with a cup of coffee is the perfect way to relax after the morning rush.”  He holds up a newspaper, smiling triumphantly and pointing to the entry he circled in red listing the date of their marriage.

“Given away by a newspaper, who would have thought,” Alex looks over at Michael and they both start laughing.  

Before they can say anything else, everyone rushes forward and they are engulfed in a massive group hug, congratulations and questions coming from all directions.  Even in the chaos, their hands remain clasped and.they smile into a kiss as the celebration begins around them.