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riding-the-sunset-bird · 2 days ago

Note

Hey!

Since I started playing August last year I'd been lurking on the reddit (since I don't have an account) and always found the posts of the person who was writing "what choices determine Cove's X" so insightful and loved reading them

recently, i played the baxter DLC (still am not over it, it's my most favourite thing ever; i just love our pepe le pew) so I spent a lot of time on the reddit just reading up about him and what others thought bcs i LOVE deep analysis on characters that I've liked and I stumbled upon a bunch of your comments (which again, loved reading!) and I put a name to the comment

found the same username on tumblr and simultaneously found out you were the one who goes into the games files and wrote those posts I loved so, AH! Hi!

hahah my 'fangirling' and backstory aside, right after I played Baxter's DLC I felt like I didn't understand the reasons behind his actions? I know everyone talks about how he has self-worth issues and wanted to just be a memory but I don't get how that all correlated to completely detatching and not wanting to be a part of MC's life? Like did he care at all? If he didn't, why keep your number and the gift you gave him in one of the memories (Sightseeing?). But if he did care, how did he so easily at the beginning distance himself professionally? AND THEN REMINISCE ON ALL OUR MEMORIES TOGETHER BUT GO BACK TO PROFESSIONAL; LIKE WHAT WAS THE INTENTION

I feel like it is such a stupid question since it seems like everyone else gets it and the game explains it so many times but I just did not get it 😭

so if you could! could you help me understand it a little better? (and if you have talked about it before, no pressure to rewrite it all here I'd happily read another post of yours about it if you could kindly link it!)

i hope that makes sense haha, hope you have a lovely day and genuienly THANK YOU for what you do with your blog! its so great and even if you don't answer this ask i will LOVE reading everything you still put out!

-jaycee <3

*ahem*

Firstly--AAAAAAA >//////<

Thank you so much!! I do my best to help out so people can understand the code, and at times I just see it as something fun for me. So, when people enjoy them as well, it makes me so happy~

Also, I'd be delighted to answer your questions about Baxter! His DLC is absolutely packed so I get that sometimes it's hard to absorb it all. You asking someone for "help" and wanting to understand (rather than simply giving up or writing the DLC off) is admirable, honestly, not something to feel stupid about!

For me personally, I do believe that there are layers to it, and I'll try to do things in a different enough way/simplify them linearly in case that might help. Included will be quotes from the game to help things flow best.

All that said, let us now go on this journey into Baxter's mind together! ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

(note that this got so long that I put a TL;DR/summarized version at the end, I just thought it was important to go into as much as possible; I also have a Reddit comment here that has a smaller/quoteless explanation)

Childhood and Early-to-Mid Teens

Let's take this chronologically. Picture a young Baxter Alexander Ward all the way back in Golden Grove. He's a rich boy with rich parents, and by rich, we're talking really rich. What already is so much to an adult is virtually limitless in the mind of a child, and it earns him a certain reputation amongst the population. Everyone knows the name of the Mr. and Mrs. Ward's only child, and it makes him extremely popular.

However, that doesn't mean he has true company, especially as his neighborhood situation is quite the opposite from the MC of either Our Life version, who are given one or two easily-accessible friends depending on the game.

"The land my family home was built on… I suppose you could call it somewhat remote. It's a fair-sized estate, situated a little ways off from the rest of the town. So, until I moved into college dorms, I'd go as far as to say that I'd never had neighbors before."

In other words, there's no one around his age nor does he have a sibling to play with. This isn't a big deal at first, given that he's young, innocent, and raised where anything he wanted was in his parents' budget. He's expected to act a certain way, certainly, but he can't understand the idea of needing anymore than what he has: he's the cute rich boy that has "everything" and that every kid wants to be close to.

So much so that it gives him an ego about it.

"What I do distinctly recall is that as a child I unequivocally thought I was better than other people. That those who met me were lucky, and I could pick anyone I wanted as company. The onus was on everyone else to impress. "If someone was boring or maybe I just didn't like the colors they were wearing that day, I could find a new playmate, easily. After all, I had the most to offer. "Naturally, what I was 'offering' was what my parents had. A big, cool house, exciting outings, the best toys. It wasn't until I was eleven or so when I developed my first stable friends. They might not have been rich like me, but they had their own charms. Those ties couldn't be replaced."

"I loved it when they would come and visit; there was scarcely anything better. They never got over their sense of awe, and I ate it up."

"Becoming attached to other people, especially those people, made me realize what I'd believed wasn't true. And it was so obvious. They were wonderful. I felt things I never had before. "All it took was being who they were. It didn't matter what their parents did. No fancy venue could top genuine comradery with their company. "And for whatever reason, I was in the club, and I was happy. The person who was lucky to be there was me. "I had wanted my friends to feel the same way towards me. To have that kind of incredible effect on another person for no reason other than that I was Baxter."

Thus, the confident boy Baxter sees in the mirror everyday, like a framed painting of the kind of person everyone wants to be, becomes distorted. Kids didn't flock to him because he was "Baxter," but because he was a rich boy who could wow them. He felt that even the friends he did manage to acquire only hung out with him because they were lovely people, because they also were not immune to being awed by his rich boy things, and because he got lucky.

Qiu - who's part of his friend group - being his first crush likely doesn't help matters. It's no longer about his own personal satisfaction, where he shows off and the kids involved do little more than stroke his ego; now there are kids who are the ones offering him something, and it's something he didn't even know he was missing.

This begins the initial spark of self-worth issues for Baxter, and it's a spark that snowballs as time goes on. He doubts himself, he doubts his ability to make his friends happy in the way that they make him happy, and he - when he's fourteen - goes so far as to doubt the impression something as simple as his hair gives off.

"The generous might say I could count it as black, or that it was 'black in the right light' as my parents placatingly put it. "The fact of the matter is that it's a dusty gray."

"Who would notice a color that wasn't exactly black? And why would they care, even if they did? "Me. I noticed. I noticed and it bothered me, so I dyed it. "Was it something I wanted only for my own preference, or was it because I believed if I saw it as an imperfection then that meant everyone else did? "Probably the latter."

(note that this is around the time that an MC might meet him in Soiree and potentially become his second crush)

So now you have a double-edged sword of sorts where Baxter wants to be good enough as he is, yet is actively covering up the parts of himself that he deems as flaws to be corrected.

In trying to craft this "perfect/better" version of himself, he's created a scenario in which he cannot win. Even if said version could make people happy, he is still not the real version of himself and goes on believing that any amount of joy he does create isn't even "him" doing it anyway.

This is already excluding the fact that his parents are *:･ﾟ✧ garbage ✧･ﾟ:* who always wanted him to act a particular way, and he knew they'd take issue with him if they didn't raise him personally.

"They understand care through the lens of control and protection. That's been their way ever since I was young. In that sense, they treat me no different from a child. "But, of course, they are quiet, educated, esteemed, and a tad old. As is their company, most days. That's not the environment to act as a kid. "That meant I've always been expected to behave with the maturity of someone their own age, or perhaps even older, somehow. "A bit of a paradox, isn't it? Do everything as an adult would while getting the respect an infant does."

"They're family and I'm their son. That is what matters at the end of the day, blood related or not. "I'm thankful for that as well. "Now, if I wasn't the boy they raised together in any capacity, then there would be problems."

Even the air of sophistication he has comes from his upbringing (though he's at least made that his own). There's the Baxter he actually is, the Baxter his parents expect him to be, and the Baxter he's trying to build up for himself to be someone he thinks can make those he cares for happy, all things that he tries to deal with himself as if that's at all manageable or healthy for him.

To the surprise of no one, things still aren't perfect. Without a trust that his friends like him simply because they like him, he doesn't realize - or refuses to contend with - the truth of the situation, and the age gap between them starts causing difficulties.

"I was older than all of them. As sheltered as I was, I got along better with kids not quite my own age. Immature as always, hm? "Life changed fast then, and the years between us became more noticeable with every day. I never reached a point where I felt like I knew what I was doing before suddenly, it was as if I didn't belong with them anymore. "That they didn't have time to keep me around with the differences in our schedules and priorities. And I accepted that. So, the friendships ended. We stopped talking as young teens, and I haven't even seen them since I left for college in 2015. "I thought they mattered to me, but when have I done anything for them? Why did I deserve to be liked and included when all I did was want that to happen and abandon them when it didn't?"

Now we're getting closer to the white-and-black-haired Baxter we know as, at the time he leaves Golden Grove, he's just one year away from his visit to Sunset Bird and simultaneously no closer to knowing what he's doing. He's broken off from his old, cherished, and only significant friend group, and now he's all the way on the other side of the country in Virginia by himself.

He's still chaotic, still kindhearted, yet has no clue that he deserves to have the kind of companionship he longs for. In the year of him being at college, he fails to make those kinds of connections, whether intentionally or otherwise.

"Instead, you could say I don't have many friends. I spend the majority of my time on my own, though I do attend parties and other gatherings when I am able. "I do not have anything quite similar waiting for me there. Don't feel bad about that. "It is only to be expected. I did move across the country. It is a fairly common phenomenon for those of us who do. I'm a regular fish out of water, if you will."

"It hasn't been easy to find anyone to reminisce with, not for a while. But then again, I only developed a sentimentality once I'd gone off to college. "I was too young and proud for that sort of matter before then. There wasn't anything in my life to harbor much sentimentality for. I suppose leaving was the catalyst. Isn't it always? "But once that part of my mind had developed, there wasn't anyone around to share the emotions with. My classmates and I… we don't have that kind of relationship."

His parents are also just as controlling as ever, only allowing him to enjoy his semester off from college under their rules and in a place they personally chose and are comfortable with. Baxter, who had no interest in going home to Golden Grove and thus agrees to the terms, can only make himself comfortable by finding his own ways of having fun, such as renting a car despite being underage.

"At a minimum, I can honestly say that I wish that I missed it, if that makes sense. I don't know how you feel about your hometown particularly, but you should at least be able to appreciate that I spent all of my youth there. "I'm not so jaded as to totally discount the place, far from it. But anything I liked about my home wasn't exactly exclusive to that locale. The US is a big country, and there are plenty of beautiful things to see wherever you go. "I've experienced enough to know that much, at least. So no, I don't miss it. And I won't be going back. "If my parents wish to see me, they'll have to be the ones visiting where I am.

"Mother and Father agreed to me vacationing on my own, but under the condition that they would have the choice of where I stayed. "California being fairly close by, and Sunset Bird being so quaint, not to mention our prior excursions to the area, they concluded that this was the easiest way to keep me out of trouble."

Basically, it's all going back to his line about expecting him to behave as an adult whilst treating him like a child. He's permitted to vacation by himself but only in a town as "boring" as Sunset Bird where there would naturally be very few teenagers around his age. His streak for being a bit of a rebel reflects that.

What he doesn't expect is to meet a new group of people and the MC in particular, who unintentionally challenges his negative view on himself.

Step 3

From the very beginning, Baxter takes immediate interest in the MC and Cove, wanting to make one of those "blissful, temporary relationships" that will last the summer. Already, we have something of note, which is the 50/50 success rate he ended up having: MC and Terry were all for the absurdly friendly monochrome man that swooped into town, whereas Cove and Miranda were more hesitant (and thus didn't spend as much time with him) because his directness tended to put them off.

"I care a great deal about what I say and that it makes the correct impression. Yet I am not always successful. My approach is off, really."

"Now, this may be a complete shock to you, but… I've been told that I can come across as a bit too forward. I know. It can be hard to believe. My intent is to be open with people so we can connect. It almost never works out that way, though. I've had to come to terms with the fact that I don't possess a knack for making friends. "It was obnoxiously easy when I was a child. Especially due to that aforementioned big, cool house. But now I keep finding myself at a loss for how to do it. With the hit-or-miss endeavor, the vast majority of the time I come up with a miss."

"And I've never been in a stable, long-term relationship. They've all been brief, and varying levels of disastrous."

Put more simply, Baxter knows what he wants but doesn't understand what people want out of him (believing more that they don't want him at all). On some level, he's flying blind and simply does what he can to put his best foot forward, not wanting to miss opportunities when they present themselves to him. He's someone who likes seeing people thrive and enjoy themselves, and it's even better if he knows that he caused it.

"I live for approval."

Thus, as the "perfect summer tourist" who wants to vacation and have a fun time with those that he can, he seeks to do everything possible to make it memorable. That doesn't mean that he goes out of his way to do things he doesn't want to or portray himself as this person who doesn't even resemble who he actually is, but he puts on an air of not having any flaws that would cause him to be any form of burden to others.

This is even excluding the parallel of a group of four friends that he's involved with yet feels distant from or like he doesn't belong in at the same time; history repeating itself and what not, though in his case it's more like a self-fulfilling prophecy, emphasized by the possibility of him asking the MC out on a summer fling.

"I don't care about what label you'd choose to put to it. I could be your boyfriend, or nothing at all. "And you can also change your mind without consequence, if you find out it's not what you imagined further down the line."

Baxter gives the MC every out he can to make things as convenient as possible for them, not only so that the relationship isn't serious and they don't have to worry about it, but so they can break it off whenever they wish. He knows full well that even the person he's presenting himself as won't please everyone and sets everything up so he can almost anticipate the ending if the MC gets bored with him because he fails to impress.

He's interested in them, attracted to them, and feels that he'll enjoy their company, but he only thinks he can do the same on the short-term; that small amount of time where people are still learning about one another where little else is hoped for beyond good things.

Another way of looking at it is based on Baxter's view of control.

"It might not surprise you to know that I can be a touch… particular. I know the importance of coherence, with individuals acting in a well-coordinated fashion. And I like things to function well-for systems to operate smoothly. "I confess, you could call me controlling, at times. Not with people, but with processes. Especially when it comes to enacting plans. I'd much rather act under my own steam than follow someone else's lead. "I'm only flexible with the personal, not the business, aspects of life."

His relationship with the MC is, on some level, a process. It's something for him to carefully plan out and calculate to make it the best he can for them. Getting more personal would involve him revealing the parts of himself that he finds distasteful and believes the MC will as well.

Of course, he doesn't anticipate growing attached to them, which brings in the "risk versus reward" aspect. This can be seen when Baxter initially agrees to have drinks with the MC in the morning that he hates so much, where the safe option would be to simply postpone until another day, except he wants to spend time with them as soon as possible.

In that respect, it's not unlike him struggling to decide on the type of ice cream he'd like.

"My problem is this: I'm unsure if I should get a dessert that's to my usual taste. If I do, I'd be certain to enjoy what comes from the ice cream truck. That would be nice. "But, on the other hand, this may happen only once. Perhaps it'd be more rewarding to get something new, an option that would be challenging to find in a common store. "Which will add more to the experience? Indulgence or novelty? I want to make the right choice."

However, his risks don't end up panning out well in his mind because he's unable to get past something so minor as forgetting his wallet, when all he and the MC had planned to do was have a nice time at a cafe in Drinks. In his mind, the Baxter he's trying to present had failed, and what else can he do at that point (under his perceived logic) but do what he remembers worked from childhood?

"It's a question of knowing the right people who know the right people. We could have even had full backstage access with the main cast if I'd asked. "I do try not to lean on that kind of thing too much, if you can believe me. I appreciate it might not look like it now. You could say it's a means for me to preserve my sense of independence. It's easy to be popular if you can foot the bill, and I don't want that to be what draws others to me. "But after all that, here I am, leaning on the same old crutch. Nothing has changed since I was six."

"I suppose that was part of the issue. I didn't consider myself appealing enough as a person to be worth the time. So, I wanted the support of an exciting or interesting backdrop for meetups. "But… it shouldn't matter that much where you are if you enjoy who you're with."

Baxter expects perfection out of himself in the same way that his parents expected things out of him, and the limitations follow accordingly. He wants little more than the MC's presence and it is up to him to "repay them" for it. When he was a child, he was the one everyone else had to impress, and now it's the other way around: he has to impress those he wants to be around.

Except he's only human, and aiming to be the perfect person for the MC all summer simply isn't feasible, which he takes with every ounce of criticism one can imagine.

"This whole situation… it's asinine. I haven't known you long enough to be causing this kind of trouble. I'm quite literally a stranger. And I won't even be here long enough for that to change. As welcoming as you all are here, that can't be forgotten. "This was-I was-only ever supposed to be a part of the fun. A worthwhile piece of summer scenery. Someone who added to the experience, not held it back. You shouldn't have to baby me! To sit there and spend your time making me feel better when I don't keep it together. "The mess I am in the mornings, the drama I cause in the evenings: the person I am when the show is over. Those aspects shouldn't be any of your concern. I don't provide that support to you, do I? And how could I when I don't know you? "No. It's not fair to make you worried or, worse, guilty over what happens to me. What matters is that when we're together it's for the pleasant parts of existence. The less ideal shades of life can be managed separately. "That's all I wanted."

Two things to note as well is that he'll say all of the same dialog even if he and the MC have experienced Hang or Planning (where Baxter can comfort them), and there's a dialog path in Sightseeing (i.e: the moment most players will play first) where he'll openly say that he hopes they count for "more than strangers."

(He's additionally rejected the idea that he knows the MC despite relishing every given opportunity to listen to the MC babble about even the most mundane things.)

So not only will he deny to himself that comforting the MC was worth enough to count (or unintentionally block it from his mind), but when it comes to things becoming more personal, suddenly he's "just a stranger/near-stranger." The MC can be comforted when they need it but not him, and he's just some nobody tourist when it comes time to put any value on himself...

whether that be the simple things like driving everyone around, to the stuff that takes effort to notice like him seeing that the MC wanted to ride in the passenger seat, to the more complex like literally saving Miranda's entire birthday party.

"I couldn't have devised a more pleasant way to spend my time here, even if I tried. And to be frank, I have tried. I didn't come to Sunset Bird totally devoid of any plans or ideas. "You and your friends have invited me to participate in an event with great significance to you. It's a profound gesture to show to a relative stranger. "When it's over, and I'm long gone from here, I hope you can all look back on this party for years to come-maybe for the rest of your lives-and treasure the memory. "And if I am a part of that memory, then that is satisfaction enough. Though perhaps I'm in danger of giving my contribution too much credit."

A hypocrite (I say this affectionately, I swear) of the highest order; there are rules for himself and no other rules for everybody else. The things he does are never enough whereas everyone else does plenty by simply existing and giving him the time of day.

Leaving the way he does with no contact and little hope of seeing each other again is the inevitable result of the process he'd put together for his time with the MC and his summer at Sunset Bird. From the beginning, he's had a time frame to keep to, an intent to not get attached, an expectation that no one would get attached to him, and an idea that he would leave as little more than a memory.

"Only lately it's been different. Incredibly different. I almost worry my luck won't last. It will all be over soon. "I wish… I could stay."

Except he does get attached, just as the MC gets attached to him (in what he can admit in Step 4 is the most stable relationship he's ever been in), and now all the control he feels he had goes out the window. That's why he has the potential to get upset if the MC keeps pushing his buttons by questioning him.

"I would've preferred it to have been an enjoyable time having my company while I happened to be here, that was the intention. It seems I've ruined that on the whole. I accept the blame for that. If I had behaved better this wouldn't have come to a close on such an abhorrent note. "However, I am not an irreplaceable part of your life. I was a tourist, a novelty. And now I'm not even that. So don't bother with this."

To him, everything is so obvious: he got "lucky" getting to hang out with his Golden Grove friends, who were simply so nice that they continued bothering with him at all despite his flaws. Considering how that ended, he expected the same where no one would bat an eye if he left.

The MC trying to hang onto what they have isn't a sign that he had done anything right, but that the MC is being their sweet, considerate self in thinking about him. He's had at least five years of criticizing himself, of trying to make people happy yet downplaying it when he does, that everything the MC says goes in one ear and out the other.

"I heard you then and each reasonable suggestion to salvage the situation, but I brushed you off as if you were the one being dramatic. Or that you were lying."

At some point between having his Golden Grove friend group to now, his priorities had changed. He'd given up on having true value to people and instead focuses on creating moments (an appropriate word to use given how the game works) with them. It's a natural progression from not believing he's important to not believing he could ever possibly be.

Even basic traits he does have that one will likely see as something to adore, he won't attribute to himself.

"Now, I do admit, though, that isn't what one might call a grand love story. It's simplicity itself. "I'm not the most romantic or sentimental person in the world. I know that can be at odds with my formality, yet it's the way I am."

He'll say he's not romantic nor sentimental while being one of the most romantic and sentimental people in the game, so either he's unaware of it or refuses to associate positive words like those with himself. On the flip side, he can falsely associate others with credit for things they've done without acknowledging the finer details that might negate his point.

For example, in the Wedding DLC, Baxter gives so much credit to Cove for "staying" and "trying" without understanding that Cove didn't have a choice on whether to stay or leave the MC initially due to still being a child (who absolutely would have left and in fact did try to leave in the Step 1 DLC). He's also one of the few characters who doesn't consider Cove "clingy," probably because he's just as clingy if not more so.

By unknowingly projecting his self-hatred onto the MC's view of him, he's come to the idea that the MC has already gotten as much out of the relationship with him as possible without things completely falling apart, and daring to want anything further is his own self-interest/ego getting to him.

It's even to the point of deciding that everything is his fault if the MC kissed him in Planning when they weren't dating.

"I must apologize for that. I shouldn't have done it. Even at the time I knew I shouldn't have. That was a bad idea. One that only managed to complicate our relationship further. "I shouldn't have involved you in more of my selfishness."

So his conclusion in the Step 3 ending is that he's lost no matter what and genuinely cannot comprehend the idea that he had done anything right for the MC to want to stay in contact with him.

If the MC contently accepts separating from him, then that proves to him that he isn't someone worth sticking around for. If they instead get upset or want to stay in touch, then he has somehow done something wrong in the way he went about things and presented himself. It all goes back to being a scenario he's set himself up not to win.

"In short, what I'm saying is that I'm a fraud in all regards. You can't take any of it seriously, including what color my hair is."

"I don't deserve to have that kind of relationship with another person. That's why. I don't contribute anything. "Maybe I can impress others for a time, but how do you go beyond that? I can't say what it means to be significant as a person, to be irreplaceable. "And since I don't have the answer, I certainly wasn't going to assume I'd do it by accident. What does it take to add value to someone simply just by being there? I tried, but I never knew. "In my eyes there's a world of humans living freely among one another, while every connection I create is so fragile. If I make the wrong step I might hurt them, or be hurt myself, and if it's strained at all it will break entirely."

The sad part of it is that it makes sense, in a way. The things he did for the MC - baring perhaps that damned chocolate fountain - were almost effortless to him. He wanted to do them, so why would he think he did anything special?

One of the very few times he's willing to talk in any way bad about another is only if the MC uses Jude and Scott's relationship as a reason for why they could keep in touch. That's when his cynical side comes out.

"Of course, my rather reasonable prediction is that it will not last. Most relationships don't."

As things were that summer, Baxter viewed the MC as someone he would love to know, but not someone who wanted to know him because he doesn't think he's likable; that the slightest inconvenience to them - to anyone - would make him not worth keeping in touch with any longer. The MC also has friends who have been around longer than him, and he's never considered that he could have any role amongst them.

Tempting fate was never his intention, yet that's exactly what he does in believing they'll never meet again, drawn together as if the longing makes them magnetic to each other.

Step 4

As is standard with the inevitable passage of time and growing older, Baxter is slowly finding himself and improving as a person over the five years that he and the MC are apart. Some things change and others stay the same, whether for better or worse.

Though, any positives aren't particularly noteworthy to Baxter himself.

"I can say that I've improved some talents over the years and found a less eye-catching sense of style, but for anything meaningful there's been no growth."

Due to his self-worth issues, he never thinks what he does is good enough and is wholly focused on where he's yet to improve upon, even though he is fully aware about the parts of himself he has worked on.

"You don't need to worry. I'm not quite as sensitive as I used to be about mistakes. I will survive this, pride as wounded as it may be from these trials and tribulations."

"Part of the tragedy of adult life is learning to roll with the punches, so to speak. I suppose I should be proud of the fact that I can at least handle it much better than when I was younger. "Thinking about what kind of panic a younger Baxter would have been thrown into at the prospect of a missing shirt on an important day-"

Under that lens, it doesn't matter what he does or how he deals with the issues he feels are a burden to himself and/or others; there's always an asterisk - that he's attached to them - to act as a "yes, but..."

"I'm fortunate that thanks to my upbringing I happen to be well acquainted with formality and what it takes to authentically achieve it for an event. It's a unique kind of direct experience to wield. "Additionally, I deal well with the high level of control and detail-work one must take in a stressful event. "When it comes to work, I absolutely can make decisions. It's only in my personal life where I lack conviction. "And that's most suited in bursts with different people rather than a long-term position in a consistent group. You can easily get sick of someone who needs everything to be 'just so'."

Similar to the weddings he involves himself with as he graduates and gets a career as a wedding planner, there is an ideal final product to work towards, but one he could never conceivably be happy with because he's already starting from a place of seeing himself as someone worthless as an individual. It shapes said final product into something entirely unrealistic, never mind completely unachievable.

As for figuring out a life for himself, that goes hand-in-hand with where he ultimately chooses as his first place to live: Prism Vista City, which Mr. "Definitely Not Sentimental" ends up getting attached to.

"This, ahem, particular location was intended to be only a starting point. I was coming from the complete other side of the country, and I at least knew I enjoyed the area. "I expected to relocate once I had my bearings. It wasn't my intention to linger where I might not be welcomed. "But who could've guessed it was harder to pack up and leave everything behind once you had silly things such as an 'actual apartment in your own name' and a 'real career' tying you down? "Weeks passed, then months, and then, perhaps inevitably, I came face to face with one of the reasons I developed such a positive outlook on this state to begin with. "You know, it never ceases to amaze me. California is directly beside Oregon. I could practically walk there if I was industrious, and stupid, enough. "Despite that, being here is a wholly different experience than what I had being raised in the neighboring state. "Sometimes it seems as if I'm still a tourist. That I don't belong here, and everyone who passes by can smell the otherness on me. "Other days, I have the confidence to think I've found my own place in the world…"

That's one thing that never changes about Baxter in virtually all of his life: the desire to simply belong somewhere. What does change is how he approaches that want.

He wanted to belong with his Golden Grove friends, but fell out with them due to the circumstances and chalked it up to a failure on his part. When he wanted to belong with his Sunset Bird ones, he'd already decided himself that it would never happen to save him from any potential disappointment, and that simply being there for a summer would be enough.

In adulthood, he's given up on such things entirely. No more friends, no more flings, and even his most consistent contact - his parents - have been cut out of his life (though in the latter case, it's for the better).

"What happened, I do exactly… that to everyone who unfortunately crosses my path. "The acquaintances I made at college, dancing partners, the friends I had since childhood; my parents, though, that is an entirely different story. "The point of the matter is, excluding those I interact with regularly due to work, I have no relations whatsoever. That's simply the way it goes."

"To start, I haven't spoken to my parents in, mm, a few years now. That's what I meant when I included them in the list of relationships I haven't maintained. "Don't worry. It isn't a painful topic for me, exactly. Mostly I find it… disappointing. Frustrating? Certainly awkward. "Before I cause too much concern, they've never done anything to intentionally hurt me; my parents have always cared for my well-being. "And I can't deny how much they have done for me - all the opportunities and advantages I had because they provided them. They gave me the best they knew how and- "This is not as nuanced as I might be making it sound. "What a novelty it would be if I could speak favorably of my own family. Can you imagine? "That's not the case, however. "What I am trying to say is that my parents are, on the whole, good to me. And they do love me as their child whom they raised for nearly two decades. "Just as I still feel compelled to give them credit for the minimum, I'm certain they're telling their acquaintances endless excuses for why I'm so distant and unagreeable with them. "They haven't given up on me, in their own way. "But all that does not make them good people. "I can assure you that because they are not good people. I'm merely a rare exception to the unpleasantness. "My parents are selfish- they're sheltered. Even as adults."

"Imagining myself as not their son and not someone they loved seemed meaningless at the time. They did love me and that's what mattered. "Of course, it's not always enough, is it? "If I wasn't theirs, either through birth or adoption, if I was someone else's son, they… would hate me. "I know I'm foolish, on many counts. It took me a long time to realize that them being hypocritical shouldn't reassure me the way it did. "Baxter Ward could have as many 'shortcomings' or 'problems' as he did and it'd be fine because it was 'different' in that case. There were reasons, can't you see? "But they couldn't see that other people deserved the same kind of understanding. "And that some things weren't 'problems' in the first place…"

The true tragedy of it being that it's heavily implied that Baxter's parents did attempt to teach him or at least act in a way that would lead him towards a life without any meaningful relationships, which is what he got when he became an adult but not ever what he truly wanted.

"And their nonsense priorities and concerns are what my parents expected from me! "How ironic that I can finally see the silver lining of my lifelong struggles thanks to them. "If I never realized how poor my connections were, or if I never cared that my relationships were nothing more than associations based on conveniences, maybe I'd have been who they wanted."

Arguably, Baxter is at the most "successful" place in his life: he might not be rich anymore, but he's making his own money with a job that suits him, he has a nice apartment, and he's living comfortably.

Except he's not happy, and convinces himself that it's as good as he's ever going to get. It's both the highest and lowest point of his life.

"Of course, I wouldn't be able to understand the viewpoint of someone willing to commit themselves to another person for the rest of their life. "It's what makes for a good planner. I can get invested just enough in the premise to truly create something special, but I'm not attached to the real relationship. "And I'm not disappointed when it's over. "It's been years since I was careless enough to be hurt by anything. "I'd given up on trying for more than what I already had. Then I told others, and myself, that meant I was always content. But honestly, it made me bitter. "I didn't become the person I wanted to be. I didn't achieve the kind of life I'd hoped for."

He couldn't even maintain his relationship with dance, something he'd adored since he was young and now limits to lessons given to wedding couples.

"In a way, I fell out of love with that passion. "It became tedious and unsatisfying to do it with complete strangers, and I didn't have enough hours in a day to dedicate to a long-term competitive partner any longer. "But perhaps I should've tried harder not to give it up entirely. "How embarrassing… even my choice of hobby revolved around having a serious and understanding relationship with someone else. "The precise matter I've had a lifelong struggle to obtain."

As for the MC, Baxter misses them desperately, but goes about his life as though he doesn't. He's committed to viewing himself as someone who doesn't deserve them and that what he did was the right thing to do.

It would seemingly be "easy" then to let go of anything that reminds him of them, in hopes of either limiting the times that he finds himself thinking back to those moments or steering himself towards moving on, but he can't.

The MC's souvenir (if they gave him one)...

"I am fond of it even now. I've never been able to part with it. But isn't that what souvenirs are for? Keeping for the long term? "I'm being entirely reasonable for holding onto that after thoroughly leaving everything in Sunset Bird behind."

Their number...

"I had your number all along. "Of course, I never looked at it over the years we were apart, but didn't have it in me to delete it either."

Even the khaki shirt he wore during Mountain (if he and the MC were dating at the time and they invited him up to their room)...

"It remains my stolen property to this day."

He keeps all of them, unable to let go of the feelings the MC caused within himself but locking them deep inside rather than addressing them. He has the very method for contacting the MC at any time to reconnect, to explain himself, to apologize, to confirm or reject his own doubts over what happened, but he doesn't out of fear.

"I said it before- my concern was protecting my own feelings. Anything I did to that end felt justified. "The more time and experience let me reflect on my actions, I only became more convinced I should stick to my word and not trouble you further."

"I've also missed you over those five years. "And Terry and Miranda and Cove and that summer in Sunset Bird, but mostly, it was you who I thought of. "During that trip, I did feel wanted. "You made me feel wanted. And… important. "It was exciting and amazing, and felt impossible it could last. The shine would wear off eventually, as always. I didn't want to see it happen. "What if I seemed pathetic for being attached to people I met on a short vacation? You had your real group of friends who lived with you there already. "Or what if you stopped responding to me after realizing I wasn't that interesting? Or why would I have even assumed there'd be a reason to talk to me at all once it was no longer convenient? "I'm aware that's not a kind way to view you, but it wasn't that you'd done something to make me believe it would happen. It's my viewpoint for every situation."

Baxter never once thinks that the MC is a bad person, simply that he is the problem and even the best of people will "understandably" lose interest in him if there's any interest to begin with. As someone who likes control and has been conditioned to stray away from more personal relationships, it's advantageous to him to remain in his self-sabotaging mindset.

It's what he's used to.

"I can't afford to flitter off on vacations whenever the mood strikes the way my parents can, but I have a very comfortable existence. "It's nice, if lonely. "Of course, let's not pretend I have anyone to blame for that other than myself. I ended every relationship I had with my own actions. "It's the story of my life. I want to be liked, but I don't want to be important. "A suitor for a season, the planner at a wedding- it's that kind of role I'm comfortable in. "Perhaps that's why I'm drawn to people who are wanted by everyone else. They don't need me. I can be someone, I can't be 'the one'."

So when his Step 4 begins and the MC unexpectedly shows up back in his life, five years after Baxter expressed confidence that they would never meet again, he can barely handle it. Without his say so, he's being confronted with feelings that haven't faded, and ones he already thinks are ridiculous of him to have considering how short of a time he'd known the MC.

The best he can think to do is to put on an air of professionalism and brush the rest off. He'd already left, not contacted the MC for so long, and had remained determined to never see them again, so he doubles down on it.

"I'm merely an employee of your friends. Please feel free to ignore me entirely."

However, it's not tenable, because Baxter has never been someone with the impulse control to keep him in check. Even in the few days he knows that the MC will be around and then leave afterwards, holding himself back from doing what he wants isn't something he can keep up for that long.

In front of people like Jude and Scott who he doesn't know, it's at least easier, but around someone like Xavier who he has some form of friendlier relationship with (only a day after he'd conveyed to himself and the others that he's nothing more than the wedding planner), he's already dropping stories about the past.

"As soon as it comes to you it appears my reason goes out the window. Along with much of my dignity. "But that is how it is."

"Enjoying myself in your presence is the most natural thing in the world. Frustratingly so, at times. I find myself letting go of more than I intended to."

It's also not that Baxter doesn't want to talk to the MC because, if the MC tries to get him to talk during the ride back from the bakery, he deliberately makes it a game of rock-paper-scissors that they'd be guaranteed to win if they wanted to. He could've shut them down entirely if he didn't care, but he finds a middle ground of technically not agreeing outright while still letting the MC talk to him.

"The petty types of decisions that were best suited to be decided with randomness mattered little to me. "It was far more amusing to see who would use the advantage they had to win and who would be willing to take the loss, and why they seemed to do so. "At the bare minimum I'm not that much of a brat any longer. "As an adult, I use it mainly to get away with not making decisions of my own. Whoever is playing with me has the responsibility to win or lose because what they're up against is preordained. "I don't even need to choose which symbol my hand takes. It's easier that way."

Not that it means he's alright with it either. Baxter is already under the stress of planning a wedding in a matter of days and now has to deal with seeing the MC again, sometimes one-on-one. He doesn't want to be cruel to them, doesn't want things to be so difficult, nor did he want the MC to be "forced" to go with him to the bakery (on a suggestion he couldn't have known would lead to it), but that's what ends up happening.

"I'm not any less immature than I was five years ago, it seems. I've been incredibly rude to you, and that is inexcusable. "You're not unwelcome near me. Of course not. "However, I'm here to plan Jude and Scott's wedding. My priority is that only, and I don't want to get caught up in anything else. "There's no need to reminisce. I hope that's not insulting, it's honestly not meant to be a strike against your character. "You are a lovely person and have many wonderful friends. You don't need me to be an active part of your life."

"I apologize for what happened between us, I honestly do regret it. "I am sorry I hurt you. I am sorry I was unable to keep my word and have bothered you yet again. "I'm thoroughly humiliated and have attempted to get in your way as little as possible. Though I'm unable to quit outright; I couldn't do that to Jude and Scott. "We are both aware that I am fully incapable of making you happy. But in four days you'll return to your life blissfully free of my presence in it. "Please tell me, what can I do for you? I simply don't know…"

It feels terrible for him, but this is the cycle he's gotten himself into: wanting to stick to what he'd done in Step 3 under the belief that the MC would be better off without him, feeling nostalgic for the past to the point where it ends up coming out, behaving distantly as a result and hating himself for it, then apologizing just to do it all over again because he's constantly going against what he actually wants.

"Every time I'm arrogant enough to believe I know what I'm doing and that I'm in control- I don't and I'm not."

"From the moment you walked into that restaurant, my actions were nothing but self-preservation and damage control and, occasionally, reminiscing to an extent I was pleased with. "Yes, I had a 'professional commitment' not to let personal matters impede the work that needed to be done, but my distancing went far beyond that. "In the end, I was using their marriage as an excuse. "If not for that, then there would have been something else. Some trivial reason for keeping you at arm's length. That likely doesn't shock you."

Baxter is essentially shielding his heart from the very thing that would protect him from his own attacks on it. He goes so far that he considers texting the MC directly to be overstepping boundaries (even if it's for work), all after continuing to let go the most whenever he's reminded of times with the MC.

He's aware that he's attached and readily admits as much when it comes time to.

"Even I can admit I wouldn't do this for every client. "And somehow, that makes this worse. It's painfully obvious I have some personal investment, enough to merit this. "More than I intended to be. More than I ought to have. "I wouldn't have done this if you weren't here… "Even though Miranda was the client's sister- "I wouldn't have offered. It'd be overreaching, to do as much as I have. "I've gone beyond the line of pure professionalism more than once already. The cake is the icing on top."

"Well, naturally, it's against my better judgment to make anyone uncomfortable. "Of course, in such a tight spot Jude wouldn't have questioned any help he was offered. "But what would Miranda have thought? And Terry as well? If some strange man they knew long ago was getting that personally involved in their situation? "I wouldn't have crossed that line, no matter how much sympathy I had for Jude's position. "So, where did my confidence come from? Very simply- I thought you would understand. "That I had good intentions, that the odd lengths I went to was merely how I am, that it was okay to let me be involved. And if you did understand, everyone else would as well."

Deep down, he knows that he is not a stranger; that he knows the MC and trusts them on a level deeper than he thought possible before meeting them. The MC brings out the best in him while simultaneously revealing the most vulnerable parts of himself to himself, which gives him all forms of conflicting emotions.

"I… "It's odd, really. I'm the one who left. "And yet I haven't stopped seeing you as someone important to me. Important in my life. "It truly does seem as though everything I did was for no reason at all."

"It's been hard not to feel nostalgic, this past week. We've had quite a stroll down memory lane. Sometimes by happenstance, sometimes because I went out of my way to do so. "I have… fond memories of those days in Sunset Bird. Treasured memories. "Like most treasures, they're things to be taken out and admired from time to time, and then put away again. "Though, some are too delicate for even that. They should never be touched. "This evening is a reprise of something I never wished to relive."

To put it in another way, though Baxter cherishes the time he spent with the MC, anything that brings him back to such times confront him with everything he's tried to avoid.

Yearning for the things he'd tried to put behind him, the what ifs of things going differently, and the doubts of all he's done thus far based on his own conclusions...

"Back then, during my tourist phase, we took that brief trip to the mountains. On a hike, we passed a tree that had fallen across a stream. "If you can picture that, it was as if we were on opposite sides, and I couldn't take the path to you because it looked risky."

Not unlike his fear of the ocean, Baxter's biggest hurdle is that final step past the point of no return: taking the plunge and trusting in his ability to survive.

"It seems endlessly deep and unpredictable, with powerful waves and rapid currents. "And there are creatures lurking in there. Some of them are larger than me. It's unfathomable. You don't play with something like that. "If I enter that water, I'll never return from it. The ocean will swallow me whole. That's what I think."

It's only by the end of the wedding reception that he finally crosses that line and has the epiphany necessary to deal with everything that had happened: the opening of the oven to check the result of a baked cake rather than leaving it a mystery, the flick of the switch to look at a room he'd always kept in darkness prior, and the throwing of himself into deep water and realizing he can still breathe.

"In the past, I spent every moment around other people thinking of the limited span of our acquaintance. As if I wasn't seeing them at all, only the imminent departure. "Our arrangements fell in line with that. A clear timeframe, limited from the outset; predetermined rules set in stone. "It was that way five years ago. It was that way now. "We'd cooperate for a short period in service of Scott and Jude's wedding, and that would be that. I've said as much myself. More than once. "The problem is, as I only recently realized… "I forgot about that. "You see, I thought, completely and earnestly, that I didn't need to speak with you now, here, when I was feeling so… sensitive. "We could simply pick up where we left off later tonight or tomorrow. The fact that we no longer had a 'reason' to interact didn't come up as part of the consideration."

When he wasn't the one setting the rules, when he was the one caught off guard by someone he cared so much about reappearing into his life, when he was forced back into reliving past regrets and under the pressure of facing them all over again when their second/third time together was over, that ended up being when he found what he needed to talk to the MC. That was when he finally had to listen to what his heart was saying rather than constantly denying himself.

Perhaps even most importantly, that was when he had to face the fact that what he did - the suffering he put himself through for five years - had achieved nothing of value, and it's only through acknowledging it that he can keep it from happening again.

"When I left five years ago, that didn't make me happy. When I kept you at arm's length after meeting again, I was unhappy still. "If it doesn't need to be that way, if I was wrong, then… I don't know, honestly. I've never considered it a viable option until moments ago."

"It had been so long since I'd known what it was like to be included, to be around people who'll refuse to let you be left out, no matter how hard you try to weasel out of it. "Terry, Miranda, and Cove were too kind, but it was your gestures specifically that are at the heart of this matter. "Here's the truth: if you didn't ask me to dance again, in the afterhours of another event we helped create like you did then, it would have broken my heart. "That would mean definitively that I lost what we had. "But… if you did ask it would be more painful. Because that would mean- "It would mean even after everything, you hadn't let me go. That you accepted me still. "That you always would have, that I should've believed that all along, that the only thing I've done was hurt you and myself of my own accord. "It's horrible. I didn't want to know one way or the other."

The uncomfortable truth, a placating lie, or the blissful void of not knowing anything at all: those were the choices he had and he finally chose the uncomfortable truth, all for the closure the MC deserves and the potential prospect of a better future if he can only make it past the obstacles he'd set up for himself.

"But I can see now that I'm also wrong for making another decision for you. Even if the conversation went disastrously, you were owed a better explanation and an apology. "You had never asked me to leave you alone, I created that fiction. "I hope you can accept that I did care for you then- I care now. Of course, as ever, none of it counts for much if it's kept entirely to oneself."

"It's… a little hard to approach what I've sowed over the years. So many mistakes. "And even now, when I hope to make things right, to make things last, I'm forced to admit that I'm ignoring the reality of the situation. "This doesn't come down to what I want at all. I don't have the right to put myself before you. I never did."

"I suppose that is the true story of my life: me not understanding a thing and getting it all wrong at every turn. "But rather than dancing around this, I'll say it directly: not trying to stay in touch with you is something I've regretted for a long time. "I will always regret the days I lost, even now that we've reconnected."

That doesn't mean everything is magically fixed, nor that he won't fall into some old habits. He has to catch himself when he automatically excludes himself from the MC's meeting with their moms, and he'll still be apologizing and criticizing himself long after the MC has forgiven him.

"You've never allowed me to wallow in my misery, except for when you had to. When I made you have to because you couldn't get a hold of me. "But when I see you, I'm reminded of what it is like to be seen. "How it feels to have someone who knows you, cares about you, has memories with you, who wants to make more memories together. "And I tried to undo that- "Twice. By keeping you as far away from me as I could."

"Unfortunately, I've yet to think of a good reason why this admission isn't another of my patently bad ideas. It isn't as though I've been thoughtful in return. "I can't stand doing anything in the morning, even if I can pretend to, for my clients. As you know, I can't afford elaborate trips these days. "My only remaining social contacts are limited to the wedding industry, not performative theatre or owners of fancy cars or the like. "I've never been a good partner, even a good friend, to anyone who has crossed my path."

"My few victories were hollow and I'm still sorry I took that out on you at the start of this."

Nevertheless, he has no desire to run away from the MC now, because he never had a desire to run in the first place. He just needed to understand that it was okay to want, and that he wasn't the worthless person he thought he was so he could stop projecting how he felt about himself onto how people feel about him.

This makes way for Baxter to experience a lot of things that most people would have long since had at that point in their lives: he gets excited simply by having a person hanging out at his house, is incredibly pleased to have someone he can be (dance) with, and he's so amazed that he can have these things in his life that he's actively eager to prove to the MC how much he'll be sticking around, to the point of being ready to visit them at the soonest time possible.

"Hallelujah. Admittedly, a part of me was convinced I wouldn't go through with it. What if you thought I had lost my mind to follow you right after we barely reestablished a connection? "But having this last day together, knowing it was the last, was the final push to pursue what I actually wanted."

His story, essentially, is about a fall from issues of self-centeredness just to pendulum swing into ones of self-worth instead. It's about balancing on a tightrope of bringing short bursts of happiness to others while trying not to let his ego take hold of him again. It's about denying himself what he wants and refusing to hear otherwise before finally recognizing that he deserves to be happy.

That's Baxter Ward.

TL;DR:

Baxter starts as an egotistical child - encouraged by his rich parents and the kids constantly impressed by his showing off - but that changes when he obtains genuine friends and learns the value of real relationships.

Realizing that he'd relied only on what his parents had to make connections with people, Baxter doubts his own worth as a person and is unable to imagine that people would feel differently about him than he feels about himself.

Baxter falls out with his friends due to the age gap and not having time for each other, coming to the conclusion that he'd not done anything for them.

Under the belief that he has no inherent long-term value, Baxter goes on flings and seeks to create fun moments with people rather than anything that would require revealing more of himself than he feels is attractive to others; this has the side effect of making him highly critical of himself over even minor mistakes.

Baxter goes to Sunset Bird meets the MC, who (along with the MC's friends) makes him feel a sense that he might actually be someone important to others, which he then actively tries to convince himself out of due to fear of risks/the unknown.

After leaving the MC on no contact, Baxter continues to miss them, but feels like he would only bother them further if he saw them again even if it were just to apologize.

Baxter ends up seeing the MC again in his Step 4 and is confronted thusly by his unfading feelings. This leads him to try and maintain the distance he'd created in an attempt to protect himself, yet he's unable to keep himself from letting loose every now and then because it goes against what his heart wants to push the MC away.

Though horrified by the idea that what he'd done in the past might have been a mistake and preferring (at the start) to go on without knowing, Baxter ultimately reflects on his actions and acknowledges to himself why he's been doing what he's been doing, and that he doesn't want to let the MC go again without laying everything on the table.

#((When you see how long this post is you'll understand why it took me so long jdfkgdfg.))#step: 3 #step: 4 #dlc: baxter #baxter ward #((100% used this ask as an excuse to dump like 95% of Baxter's Bax-story into one post.))#((Hopefully this all makes sense and I didn't just ramble incoherently fjkgjdfg.))

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nightghoul381 · 2 days ago

Text

Honey Charm & Spicy Curse

Ellis Twilight ~ Honey Charm

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories! And I promise this one is worth buying because the voiced lines make it so much better 🥵

Explicit Content | Smut | NSFW | MDNI

CW: Curse play (aka Bondage), nipple play, fingering, PIV, Creampie

T/N: I did opt to use 'cock' instead of 'thing' for one line just because I wanted to ^u^

When we got home from our shopping date, Ellis muttered to himself as he sat on the sofa.

Ellis: “Too bad it was sold out.”

Kate: “Was that a bread you’d recommend, Ellis?”

Ellis: “Yeah. I thought you’d like it too, so I wanted to buy some with you. I’m sorry.”

It was heartbreaking to see him with his shoulders slumped, looking tiny despite his large body.

I loved the way he tried his best to make me happy,

So, I went over to him and gently put my arms around his neck, holding him close.

Kate: “It’s okay. Even though today was disappointing, I’m looking forward to going shopping with you again sometime.”

Ellis: “Ah… I see, that’s right.”

He smiled softly, as if relieved.

I’m so happy that it’s becoming a normal thing for us to welcome the happiness that will come our way together.

I kissed his smiling lips.

Ellis: “…Mmn, Kate, I love you.”

Ellis had been holding the back of my head—just then I felt a gentle stroke on the top of my head.

Kate: “Huh?”

Instantly, my wrists snapped together.

And that too, happened behind his neck.

Kate: “Hm, Ellis?”

Ellis: “Sorry, I was feeling mischievous.”

Ellis: “I was happy when you hugged me.”

Ellis: “I thought I’d like to stay like this a little longer… Is that okay?”

Seeing him tilt his head while held between my arms, I couldn’t help but smile.

Kate: “Hmmm, that’s no good…mmnn.”

The final part of my reply was stolen by Ellis’ lips.

With our tongues entwined, he picked me up and carried me onto the bed.

Even the breaths between kisses gradually became hotter—

Ellis: “…May I take it off?”

Kate: “O-Okay… Aah…”

His large hands lovingly traced the line of my waist.

Since I couldn’t use my hands, he pulled up my blouse and pulled down my skirt for me—

Without looking away from the twilight-colored eyes staring at me closely, my bare skin was exposed.

Ellis: “…Me too.”

He pecked at my lips and, a bit awkwardly, took off his clothes.

After the metallic sound of the belt being unbuckled, his body wriggled—

Ellis: “…ngh, Haahh…”

Even if I couldn’t see it, I could picture it clearly.

My lower abdomen sensed the heat emanating from his exposed mass—and it sent shivers down my spine.

Ellis: “…being held captive in your arms like this, I love it.”

While he stared at me with a heated gaze, he wrapped his hands around my defenseless breasts.

The anticipating peaks were teased and kneaded between his fingertips.

Kate: “Nngh, Aaah…”

Hearing the sweet voice that escaped from my lips, he smiled happily.

I felt the heat pressed against my lower abdomen pulsate and swell.

As I was delighted by his fingertips, his sweet eyes looking down at me made me feel embarrassed, but I was cornered.

Kate: “Ngh, El..lis… It’s embarrassing to have you staring at me…. So closely…”

Ellis: “So… should I leave?”

Kate: “…Meanie.”

Ellis: “Fufu.”

He chuckled as he ran his fingers from my chest down to my lower abdomen.

He crept into the spot reserved for him alone and found the bud that wanted to assert itself.

Kate: “Aaaagh…!”

As he caresses me with his nectar-soaked fingertips, I am no longer able to respond to any other stimulation than that given to me—

Ellis: “…Kate, you’re so cute…Overflowing with love.”

The fingertips wriggle further downwards –blocking the fountain of nectar.

Kate: “---Aagh, AAaagh!”

My hips unconsciously moved in time with his fingers, the nectar gushing forth endlessly began to run down my buttocks.

His breath became more humid and enchanting as he discovered my sweetest spots.

Ellis: “…Hey.”

Ellis: “May I make right here into my shape… Make this into a body that only I can satisfy?”

Ellis: “…It should be fine. Since, now you’ll only be with me…”

(…Of course, that’s right.)

I let out an inarticulate moan and nodded heavily, and then one of my legs was lifted up—

Kate: “----Ngh!”

His cock pushed its way through the honey, swelling inside me.

Ellis: “Haah…Kate…ngh.”

The slow, familiar rhythm was his kindness.

But that kindness gradually melted away between the two of us.

As our desire grew, our breathing picked up and our hips slammed into each other intensely.

As I responded to him, I sought more, explored more—until I joyfully surrendered myself to the waves of pleasure that surged over me.

Kate: “….Ngh, Ellis, I…”

As I stared blankly at the beads of sweat on his forehead, I formulated the message of what I wanted to convey.

Kate: “I’m crazy about you…I can’t think of anything but you…I’m so addicted to the happiness you give me.”

Kate: “…Ellis, I’m glad I met you… and that I got to be someone special to you, Ellis.”

Suddenly, he slowed down, looking down at me with a slightly sulky look.

Ellis: “…Kate.”

Ellis: “…I’m addicted the same way.”

Ellis: “I’m drowning in you and I’ve reached the point of no return.”

Ellis: “It’s unfair that you don’t realize that.”

Kate: “…Huh?”

Ellis: “How can I make you understand…?”

Kate: “Nngh!”

His biting kisses stole my breath away and he began moving against me again violently.

Again and again, I found myself falling into the same feeling of being swallowed up—

Kate: “…We, both of us…. We’re prisoners to each other…”

Ellis: “…Yeah.”

Ellis: “I love you, Kate.”

It’s a happy bondage.

As he came to his senses in my arms, he let out a sad sigh.

The wrinkles on his brow were very striking,

Like the gentle piercing of a thorn, it gripped my heart deeply and softly.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikemen villains translation #ikevil translation #Ellis Twilight #ikevil Ellis #ikevil Ellis Twilight #ikemen villains Ellis #ikemen villains Ellis Twilight #smut #nsft #mdni

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idkanymark · 2 days ago

Text

[Coming back to you]

haechan x f!reader | past life | inspired by See you in my 19th life

INTRO: Sometimes the lines between the past and present blur, and the memories of past lives seep into the present, creating a tangled web of forgotten promises. What happens when you and Haechan are bound by a vow made in another time? A promise to find each other in every lifetime, no matter the distance, no matter the obstacles. Can love truly transcend time, or are you doomed to repeat the same heartbreak over and over again?"

warnings. Death mentioned

wc. It pretty long but I don't know how many words

NOTE: I am sorry its not read proof but its exams season and I cam barely have time to do something

----

- FIRST LIFE -

It’s the year 1950. The Korean War has begun, and the once serene landscape of South Korea is now marred by chaos. Smoke rises where villages once thrived, and fear seeps into every home. The world feels as though it’s been split apart, and for you, life as you know it has been wrenched away.

You sit at the small wooden table in your modest home, the faint scent of cooking lingering in the air. Donghyuck is seated across from you, his head bowed as he stares at the military uniform laid out before him. His lips are pressed into a thin line, the usual light in his eyes extinguished.

“You don’t have to go” you whisper, your voice trembling. You grasp his hands tightly, as though holding onto him might keep him from slipping away.

Donghyuck looks up, his gaze heavy with conflict. “I don’t have a choice, Y/N. If I don’t go…” He pauses, struggling to find the words. “If I don’t go, they’ll call me a coward. A traitor.”

“You always have a choice” you insist, tears brimming in your eyes. “We could leave. Run away. Go somewhere far from here. Please, Donghyuck…”

He shakes his head, his expression softening as he reaches out to brush a stray tear from your cheek. “The war is here, love. There’s no escaping it.”

The silence that follows is suffocating. You want to scream, to beg him to stay, but deep down, you know he’s right.

The sun has set by the time he puts on his uniform. You stand by the door, holding his coat in your trembling hands. “Come back to me” you say, your voice breaking.

Donghyuck turns, his eyes shadowed with uncertainty but filled with love. “I will.” he promises. “No matter what, I’ll come back to you.”

He kisses your forehead, lingers there for a moment as though memorizing your warmth, and then steps out into the cool night. His silhouette disappears into the chaos of soldiers and civilians, leaving you standing alone in the doorway

[ - ]

Weeks pass.

The days without him are agonisingly quiet. Each passing moment feels like a lifetime.

Life feels impossibly still without him.

Then, one day, a letter arrives—your first from Donghyuck. It’s worn from travel, the edges frayed, but his handwriting is unmistakable.

You tear open the envelope with shaking hands, reading the words over and over:

My Dearest Y/N,

The days here are long, and the nights even longer. I miss you more than I can say. Every day, I wake up and think of you, imagining the life we’ll build together once this is all over. The soldiers are kind to me, and I’ve made a few good friends. One of them, a man named Mark, is always talking about his kids—his little ones, running around the house, making noise, making life feel full. Every time he talks about them, I can’t help but think of you, and how badly I want that for us too.

Mark says that having kids changes everything. I want to believe him. I can’t wait to come back to you, the thought of it is what keeps me going through these hard days. I think about our future together, how we’ll fill our home with laughter, our own little ones running around—just like Mark’s kids. Maybe we should get to work on that as soon as I return, yeah?

I promise to return soon, Y/N. Until then, hold onto our love—it’s what keeps me going in this darkness.

With all my love, Donghyuck.

Tears spring to your eyes as you reread his letter. The words are filled with such tenderness, such hope. And yet, the more you read, the more you feel the heavy weight of the war pulling at your heart.

Every promise feels fragile, like it could shatter at any moment

Over the next few months, you receive more letters. They speak of daily life in the military, of the fear that hangs over everyone, and the growing tension as the war intensifies. Despite everything, his words remain full of love, and you hold on to them like lifelines.

But even in his letters, there are hints of the strain—the long nights, the worry of the men around him, the uncertainty of what will come next. And yet, every time he writes, he reassures you:

I will return, Y/N.This war will not take me from you.

Months pass, and the war drags on, with no sign of relief. The letters from Donghyuck become sporadic, the tone growing more strained. There are mentions of rumors—whispers among the soldiers—that the enemy may be closing in. The tension is palpable.

Then, one day, you receive a letter that shakes you to your core.

Y/N,

I don’t know when or if you’ll get this, but I need to tell you what’s happening here. There are rumors that some soldiers are being accused of aiding the enemy. It’s a terrible thing, but the pressure is immense. The higher-ups are accusing good men of being spies or traitors without proof. There’s nothing I can do. I don’t know what will happen, but I promise you, I am not a traitor. I am loyal to this country. Please, don’t lose faith in me. I just want to come home to you

I love you, always, Donghyuck.

You stare at the letter in disbelief. Your heart races, the words seeming to blur together. Accused of aiding the enemy?How could that be? The man you love, the man who swore to return to you, who had written to you with such love, suddenly caught in a web of suspicion and lies?

Fear consumes you. The uncertainty of the war, the brutality of those in power—it’s all too much. But you have no way of knowing what’s really happening. You can only wait and pray that the man you love isn’t being torn apart by the very system he believed in.

The days drag on, each one feeling like an eternity. The letters stop. Then, one morning, a group of soldiers arrives in the village. They bring news—news that changes everything.

Donghyuck has been executed for treason.

You can’t breathe. The world tilts beneath you, and you feel like you’re going to collapse right there on the street. You ask questions, but the soldiers offer no answers, only cold, mechanical statements. Donghyuck was accused of being a traitor, and in the chaos of war, there was no trial, no defense. The accusations were enough to seal his fate.

You go to the place where his body is laid out. His face is pale, his body still. The world has taken him from you. The promise, his vow to return, lies broken in the dust. You fall to your knees beside him, your heart a shattered echo of the love you shared.

With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers brushing his cold skin. You whisper through the tears:

"Donghyuck, you promised. You swore you would come back to me."

But there’s no answer. The world is still, and for the first time, you realize that even love—no matter how strong, no matter how pure—can’t always defy fate.

You feel the cold weight of finality as you sit by his side, the silence enveloping you. The years ahead of you stretch out like a void. The war takes everything, and the love you shared is now a memory that will haunt you forever.

You die not long after. Some say it’s from heartbreak, others from the toll of the war on your body. But you know it’s something else. You are broken without him. You drift away, the last thing you hear being his voice—a distant echo.

“I will find you. In every lifetime, I will come for you.”

----

- SECOND LIFE -

The year is 1980, and life in South Korea is buzzing with change. Disco beats and synth-pop dominate the airwaves, and the streets are alive with colorful fashion—flared jeans, oversized blazers, and bold patterns. In your teenage world, life revolves around school, friends, and navigating the unspoken rules of being a young woman.

You’ve always been one of the girls everyone notices. Pretty, smart, and sharp-tongued, you carry yourself with a confidence that keeps most boys at arm’s length. And honestly, that’s exactly how you like it.

“You should date Sungchan. He’s, like, the coolest guy in school” Miyeon says as she flips through her notebook, doodling little hearts around her crush’s name: Kim Sunwoo.

You snort, rolling your eyes. “I will never date a man. Ew.”

Miyeon gasps dramatically, clutching her chest as if you’ve just insulted her entire worldview. “But that’s what a woman is supposed to do! Find a guy, fall in love, get married…”

“I’d rather die” you say with a dismissive wave, leaning back in your chair.

Miyeon shakes her head, exasperated. “You’re impossible.”

Maybe you are. But you’ve seen how boys act—loud, gross, and overly confident in ways that make you cringe. Why would you ever want to deal with that?

A few days later, you’re rushing through the empty hallway, carrying a precarious stack of textbooks. Your teacher had asked you to bring them to the staffroom, and you were too polite to say no. But as you turn a corner too quickly, the books slip from your hands, tumbling to the floor in a loud, chaotic mess.

You groan, crouching down to gather the scattered books, muttering under your breath about how unfair life is.

“Need some help?”

The voice startles you, warm and smooth, and when you look up, you freeze.

He’s standing there, holding one of the books that had slid across the floor. His uniform fits perfectly, his tie slightly loosened in that effortlessly cool way. His hair is neatly combed but just messy enough to seem natural, and his smile—it’s disarming in a way that makes your chest feel weirdly tight.

“Are you okay?” he asks, crouching down to meet your eye level.

You nod quickly, your voice caught somewhere in your throat.

He raises an eyebrow, his smile softening. “I need you to say it to be sure.”

“I—I’m fine” you manage to stammer, your face heating up.

“Glad to hear that…”he says, glancing at the name tag pinned to your uniform. “Y/N, huh?”

You nod again, cursing yourself for being so tongue-tied.

“I’m Donghyuck” he says, handing you the last book. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too” you whisper, cringing inwardly at how awkward you sound.

Donghyuck chuckles softly, standing up and offering you a hand. You hesitate for a second before taking it, his grip firm but gentle as he helps you to your feet.

“Try not to carry so many books at once next time” he teases lightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You nod, biting your lip to keep from saying something dumb.

As he walks away, you find yourself staring after him, your heart pounding in a way it’s never done before.

“What just happened?” you whisper to yourself, clutching the books tightly.

For the first time, you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, not all boys are so bad.

[-]

After that encounter in the hallway, you started noticing Donghyuck more around school. It was as if he’d suddenly stepped out of the shadows and into the spotlight of your world. He was handsome—undeniably so—and his natural charisma drew people to him like moths to a flame.

It wasn’t just Donghyuck, though. You began hearing whispers about the trio—Donghyuck, Renjun, and Jeno. They were legends in their own right, each famous for different reasons. Renjun was known for his sharp intellect and artistic talent, Jeno for his athletic skills and quiet charm, and Donghyuck… well, Donghyuck was the heart of the group, known for his humor, his quick wit, and that unmistakable confidence that made him impossible to ignore.

But above all, they had one thing in common: their beauty.

It was a cool afternoon, and you were walking home alone. Miyeon had stayed behind for a club meeting, so it was just you and the quiet rustle of the wind as you made your way down the familiar streets.

You were halfway to your way home when you noticed two boys from school trailing behind you. Their voices were loud, their laughter harsh, and you tried to ignore them, quickening your pace.

“Hey, slow down!” one of them called, his tone teasing.

You ignored him, clutching your bag tighter.

“Come on, show us what’s under that skirt" the other said, his voice dripping with mockery.

Disgust rose in your chest, your mind racing with all the things you wanted to say to put them in their place. But before you could respond, another voice cut through the air, firm and commanding.

“Is there a problem?”

You turned, your heart leaping in surprise. Donghyuck stood there, his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised, flanked by two other boys you immediately recognized as Renjun and Jeno.

The two troublemakers froze, their bravado vanishing in an instant. “N-no problem” one of them stammered, their faces pale. Without another word, they turned and ran off, tails between their legs.

“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asked, stepping closer.

You nodded, still a little shaken. “Yeah, thank you.”

“Do you want me to walk you home?” he offered, his voice softer now.

For the first time in a long while, you didn’t hesitate. “I would love that.”

Donghyuck smiled and turned to his friends. “Give me a second, guys.”

Renjun and Jeno immediately started whistling and teasing him, their voices full of playful mockery.

“Don’t mess it up, Romeo!” Renjun called, smirking.

“She’s cute!” Jeno added with a wink in your direction.

You blushed, lowering your gaze as the two of them walked off, leaving Donghyuck behind.

“So” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “Which way?”

You pointed to the right, trying to hide your smile. “That way.”

He nodded, falling into step beside you.

As the two of you walked, the initial awkwardness began to fade. He asked you questions about school, your favorite classes, your favorite music. You were surprised by how easy it was to talk to him, how his warmth and humor seemed to put you at ease.

By the time you reached your house, you realized something that startled you: Donghyuck wasn’t just handsome, funny, and popular. He was kind.

“Thanks for walking me home” you said, pausing at your front gate.

“It was my pleasure” he replied, that familiar twinkle in his eyes.

As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but watch him go, your heart doing strange little flips in your chest.

Not only was Donghyuck a gentleman—he was also a superhero in your eyes now.

[-]

The moment Donghyuck started greeting you in the hallways, your world shifted. It wasn’t just the glances or the way he said your name—it was the fluttering in your chest, the warmth that spread through you like sunshine breaking through clouds. He was everywhere now, flashing that lopsided smile, making the world seem brighter.

Of course, Miyeon noticed.

“So” she started, her voice dripping with smugness, “Miss I Hate Boys finally found one worth liking?”

You squirmed in your chair, avoiding her piercing gaze. “Uhm… maybe?” you mumbled, unsure whether to admit what you were feeling.

Her eyes widened, and then she let out a shriek. “YOU LIKE HIM?!”

Panic surged through you as you clamped your hand over her mouth, shooting daggers at her. “Be louder, why don’t you?” you hissed, glancing around the classroom to make sure no one heard her.

Miyeon pulled your hand away, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Sorry, but seriously, do you like him?”

You sighed, knowing there was no escaping her interrogation. “Yes… okay? I like him.”

She gasped, clasping her hands together as if she’d just witnessed a miracle. “Oh my gosh, this is HUGE! You know what you have to do, right?”

You blinked at her. “What?”

“You have to give him your name tag!”

Your stomach flipped at the suggestion.

It wasn’t just a casual gesture—at your school, giving someone your name tag was like putting your heart in their hands. It was bold, terrifying, and incredibly romantic.

“Miyeon, I can’t” you said, shaking your head. “What if he doesn’t want it? What if he doesn’t like me back?”

She rolled her eyes, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you gently. “Y/N, you’re one of the prettiest girls in school. If he doesn’t accept it, he’s an idiot. He should be groveling the moment you hand it to him!”

Her words gave you courage—or maybe it was the way Donghyuck had smiled at you earlier that day. Either way, you found yourself standing at his lunch table, your heart thundering in your chest.

“Hey, Y/N" Taeyong, a famous senior, greeted with a grin, pulling you back into reality.

“Hi” you replied, your voice a little shaky. Your eyes darted to Donghyuck, who was watching you curiously. “Donghyuck… can I talk to you for a second?”

The table fell silent. Renjun raised an eyebrow, while Jeno smirked knowingly. You could feel their eyes on you, but you forced yourself to stand tall.

“Sure” Donghyuck said, standing up. His tone was casual, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. He followed you outside, leaving his friends whispering behind him.

Once you were alone, the weight of the moment crashed over you like a wave. You felt your breath quicken, your palms damp with nerves. What were you thinking? What if you made a fool of yourself?

“Is something wrong?” Donghyuck asked, his voice laced with concern.

Your lips parted to speak, but no words came out. Instead, you reached up, fumbling with your name tag. Your fingers trembled as you unpinned it and held it out to him, your gaze fixed firmly on the ground.

The silence was unbearable. You felt like your heart might shatter at any second.

“Oh?” he said softly, his voice tinged with surprise.

You squeezed your eyes shut, certain he was going to hand it back. He didn’t feel the same, did he?

“Y/N” he said again, his tone gentler now.

Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

Then, you felt something cool pressed into your hand. You opened your eyes and stared down at the object he’d placed there.

It wasn’t your name tag. It was his. “Lee Donghyuck" it read in neat lettering.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“I’ve been hoping for this” he said, his smile soft and genuine. “Would you like to go out with me?”

The world seemed to blur for a moment as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You nodded quickly, your lips trembling into a smile. “Yes” you managed to whisper.

His grin widened, his own cheeks flushing slightly. “Good. Because I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Your heart felt like it might burst as you held his name tag close, his words echoing in your ears. For the first time in your life, you were certain: boys were gross but Donghyuck wasn’t just a boy. He was your boy.

In that moment, Donghyuck didn’t just hold your name tag��he held your heart, too.

[-]

It was a Wednesday, but not just any Wednesday—this was the Wednesday you had your first date with your crush, Lee Donghyuck.

You had spent hours debating your outfit, trying on everything in your closet. Nothing seemed to feel right until you landed on a pair of slightly baggy jeans, a high-collar shirt, and a pair of black boots that gave you just the right amount of height. To complete the look, you threw on a leather jacket. Simple, yet effortlessly cool.

As you arrived at the cinema, your heart skipped a beat. There he was, standing outside, leaning casually against the wall. He was dressed similarly, as if you’d coordinated—black skinny jeans, a plain black shirt, and a leather jacket that made him look like he’d stepped out of a magazine.

When Donghyuck spotted you, his face lit up. He waved enthusiastically, his other hand holding a small bouquet of flowers.

“Hey” you greeted him as you walked closer, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey” he replied, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He held out the flowers.“These are for you.”

Your cheeks warmed as you accepted them, a shy smile breaking across your face. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

“I already bought the tickets” he said, nodding toward the entrance.

“Wow, you’re so prepared” you teased, and he grinned.

Inside the cinema, you looked at the ticket and raised an eyebrow. The Shining.

“You picked a horror movie for a first date?” you asked, amused but a little nervous.

“I wanted to see if you’d grab my arm when you got scared” he said with a mischievous smirk.

“Confident, aren’t you?”

“Always.”

The theater was dimly lit as you settled into your seat, the soundtrack of the movie filling the air, making the atmosphere heavy with suspense. You were already on edge, the tension building in the room with each passing moment. The eerie scenes on the screen didn't help—your heart raced as you gripped the armrest, trying to focus on the plot.

Suddenly, during a particularly suspenseful moment, you felt a presence beside you shift. Donghyuck leaned toward you, his voice a soft whisper in the darkness.

“You okay?” he asked, his breath brushing against your ear.

You jumped slightly, your heart skipping a beat. “Shut up” you hissed, trying to suppress the way his nearness made your pulse quicken. But you couldn't hide the small laugh that escaped you.

It was then that you noticed him stretching in his seat, the movement fluid and casual, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. His arm moved slowly, inching closer to you, before wrapping around your shoulders with a smooth, practiced motion. It wasn't sudden or forceful—it was gentle, as if he had done it a hundred times before, but this was the first time, he practiced with Renjun.

His arm stretched across your shoulders, pulling you just a little closer, the warmth from his body radiating against yours. It wasn’t uncomfortable—far from it—but the sudden closeness sent a slight shock through you.

Donghyuck gave you a teasing smile, his gaze flicking to the screen. "You know, the movie's not that scary" he teased, but his voice had a certain softness, as if the playful tone hid something else.

You hesitated for a second, but with the darkness of the theater and the haunting sounds from the screen, you didn’t push him away. In fact, you found yourself leaning into the embrace, just for a moment.

The movie played on, but the screen’s chilling scenes were nothing compared to the warmth you felt against Donghyuck’s side.

By the time the movie ended, you were both buzzing with energy, talking animatedly about the scariest parts as you walked out into the cool night air.

The streets were quiet as you walked toward the crossing near the theater. The conversation flowed easily between you, laughter breaking through the stillness of the night.

“I can’t believe you screamed during that one scene” you teased.

“Hey, I wasn’t scared” he defended, his grin betraying him. “I was just… surprised!”

“Sure you were” you said, rolling your eyes, the teasing tone in your voice making him laugh

For a moment, the world felt simple, like it was just the two of you and nothing else mattered. But then, Donghyuck stopped walking, his hand gently brushing your arm to halt you too.

“Hey” he said softly, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Can I ask you something?”

You turned to face him, surprised. “Of course. What is it?”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the ground before returning to yours. “Do you ever feel like… like you’ve known someone before you even met them? Like, maybe in another life?”

His question caught you off guard. “You mean like a past life?”

“Yeah” he said, nodding. “I don’t know why, but… being with you feels like that. Like we’ve done this before, like I’ve been waiting to meet you again.”

His words sent a strange, warm sensation through your chest, something you couldn’t quite explain.

“I don’t know if I believe in things like that” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “But… it’s a nice idea.”

Donghyuck’s lips quirked into a small smile, his eyes soft. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

The two of you started walking again, the conversation lingering in the air like an unspoken promise. But as you reached the crosswalk, everything changed in an instant.

Out of nowhere, a man came speeding with his car, crashing into you both. The collision was sudden, throwing you both off balance. You fell to the ground with Donghyuck’s arms instinctively wrapping around you, shielding you from the worst of the impact.

Your head spun, and the world seemed to blur as you struggled to focus. “Donghyuck” you managed to whisper, your voice shaking.

He was lying beside you, his arms still cradling you as if shielding you from harm. Blood stained the corner of his mouth, and his breathing was shallow. His eyes fluttered open, finding yours with effort.

“Y/N” he murmured, his voice faint but steady.

“Don’t talk” you choked out, tears streaming down your face. “We’ll get help. Just stay with me.”

His hand trembled as he reached for yours, his fingers curling weakly around yours. “I’ll come back to you, I promise” he whispered, his gaze unwavering.

“Don’t say that” you cried, gripping his hand tightly as if it could keep him tethered to you.

But he only smiled, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. “I always find you… every time” he said softly, his voice fading as his eyes closed.

“Donghyuck, don’t leave me...” you sobbed, your heart shattering as his hand went limp in yours.

Pain surged through your chest, your breath coming in short, labored gasps.

The cold crept in, stealing the strength from your limbs. You knew, deep down, that you wouldn’t survive this either.

As your vision blurred and the world dimmed, you whispered your last words into the still night.

“I’ll find you too… no matter what.”

The world fell silent, and for a brief moment, the universe seemed to pause, carrying your shared promise into eternity:

“I’ll come back to you again.”

- THIRD LIFE -

The streets were bustling as you made your way to the newly opened café your friend raved about. You had been searching for the perfect spot to work outside of your apartment—a place with just the right balance of calmness and energy. When she mentioned Dream Café, she swore it was a hidden gem.

As you pushed open the door, a small bell chimed softly, signaling your arrival. The scent of freshly baked pastries and coffee wrapped around you like a warm hug. The atmosphere was serene, with soft music playing in the background and cozy seating scattered throughout.

“Welcome to Dream Café, what can I get for you?"

The voice came from behind the counter, where a tall barista with a sweet, easygoing smile greeted you. His nametag read Na Jaemin, and his charm was effortless—bright eyes and a calm aura that seemed to match the café’s vibe.

“Hi, I’d like a vanilla latte, please” you said, glancing at the menu behind him.

Jaemin nodded and leaned slightly on the counter. “Would you like anything else? The chocolate cake’s a favorite.We also have Carat cake which is a carrots cake.”

You glanced toward the display case, where desserts were arranged neatly. The chocolate cake stood out, rich and decadent.

“Sure, I’ll take a slice of that too.” you said.

“Good choice,” Jaemin replied, his hands moving swiftly to input your order. “Feel free to grab a seat. I’ll bring it to you.”

You chose a spot near the window—a cozy corner with a view of the busy street outside. It was the perfect spot, bathed in natural light with just enough privacy for you to focus. Unpacking your laptop and notebook, you settled in just as Jaemin arrived with your order.

“Here you go” he said, placing the plate and cup on the table.

“Thanks” you replied, smiling politely.

Jaemin grinned. “Enjoy your work session.” Then, with a small wave, he headed back to the counter.

Though he was undeniably friendly, you barely gave it another thought as you focused on your tasks. The latte was warm and perfectly sweet, and the chocolate cake practically melted in your mouth. Your friend hadn’t exaggerated—Dream Café had the right atmosphere to keep you productive.

As the hours passed, you found yourself at ease in the café’s calming space. The occasional hum of customers and Jaemin’s faint chatter with patrons added a pleasant backdrop to your work. For the first time in weeks, you felt a sense of peace, as though you’d finally found the perfect haven to balance your hectic routine.

Little did you know, this café would become more than just a place to work. It would be where you’d meet someone whose presence felt familiar, as if their existence was already intertwined with yours.

[-]

Days turned into weeks, and Dream Café quickly became your go-to spot. The cozy atmosphere, delicious coffee, and quiet charm made it the perfect place for your work. You’d even gotten to know some of the staff, like Jaemin, who always greeted you with a bright smile, and Jisung, the shy but endearing barista who often seemed to disappear into the background.

Then one day, everything shifted.

You walked in as usual, the soft chime of the bell announcing your arrival. The familiar scent of coffee and freshly baked pastries greeted you, but this time, someone new stood behind the counter. His tan skin glowed under the café's warm lights, and his brown eyes caught yours, holding them just a moment too long.

“Hi, welcome to Dream Café. What can I get for you?” he said, his voice warm and inviting. His name tag read Lee Haechan.

“I’d like a vanilla latte, and do you have any chocolate cake left?” you asked.

“You’re lucky—we’ve got the last slice,” he replied with a smile so radiant it almost left you breathless. Could a smile really have that much power?

You thanked him, taking a seat at your usual spot by the window. From there, you couldn’t help but notice him moving around, restocking pastries, chatting with Jaemin, and attending to customers with that same easygoing charm. You told yourself not to stare, but somehow, your eyes kept wandering back to him.

[-]

A few days later, as you settled into your routine at the café, Haechan approached your table with a curious expression. “Hey, mind if I ask what you’re always working on over here?” he asked, setting down your order with a grin.

“Oh, um…” You hesitated, feeling a bit shy under his gaze. “It’s work. I’m a computer scientist, so I’m mostly coding or analyzing data.”

“Wow” he said, eyebrows raised. “Sounds complicated. I can barely figure out how to set up my email without help.”

You laughed softly, his comment breaking the ice. “It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. Honestly, I just sit here staring at my screen half the time.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you look really focused. Very intimidating, actually” he teased, leaning slightly on the chair across from you.

“Intimidating?” you repeated with a chuckle. “I’m not intimidating.”

“Sure you’re not” he replied, his grin widening. “But seriously, you’re here so often, you’re practically a part-time employee. Do we get to call you one of us yet?”

“Only if you start paying me in chocolate cake” you shot back.

“Deal” he said without hesitation, his playful tone making you smile.

From that day on, Haechan made it a point to stop by your table whenever he had a spare moment. Sometimes, he’d ask about your work, genuinely curious despite admitting he didn’t understand a word of it. Other times, he’d tell you funny stories about customers or Jaemin, whose antics seemed to keep the café lively.

One quiet afternoon, the café was nearly empty, giving Haechan a rare break. He wandered over to your table again, this time with his own cup of coffee.

“So” he began, sitting down across from you without asking, “is Dream Café officially your favorite spot, or do we still have to work on earning that title?”

You smiled, setting your laptop aside. “I guess I keep coming back for a reason.”

“Good answer” he said, looking genuinely pleased.

Slowly but surely, Haechan became more than just another barista at Dream Café. His charm, humor, and warmth added a new kind of comfort to your visits.Slowly but surely, he became more than just a barista at your favorite cafe- he became someone you looked forward seeing every day

[-]

The day was unusually gloomy, the kind that seemed to sap the energy out of everything. The sky hung heavy with gray clouds, and the faint drizzle outside cast streaks across the café windows. You stepped into Dream Café, brushing off your damp coat, and settled into your usual corner by the window. The warm glow of the café lights contrasted with the bleakness outside, offering a temporary escape.

Haechan was at the counter, chatting with Jaemin as he wiped down the coffee machines. His laughter was soft, almost subdued, as if the weather had dulled its usual brightness. Still, every now and then, his eyes flicked toward you. He caught your gaze once and smiled, just enough to send a small spark of warmth through your chest before you turned your attention to your laptop.

The hours passed, the café slowly emptying as the drizzle turned into a steady rain. You lost yourself in your work, the gentle hum of the coffee grinder and the low murmur of soft jazz creating the perfect background noise. Occasionally, you’d look up and see Haechan bustling around—restocking pastries, adjusting the thermostat, or clearing tables. Once or twice, you thought you caught him glancing at you, but it was hard to tell through the dim lighting and raindrops on the windows.

As the evening wore on, the café grew quieter. It was just you and a couple seated near the entrance. The rain outside intensified, now a rhythmic patter against the glass. You glanced at your watch, realizing how late it had gotten, but you couldn’t quite pull yourself away from the work still left to finish.

When the couple finally left, Haechan began wiping down their table. You felt his eyes on you again, and this time, when you looked up, he didn’t turn away. Instead, he walked over, a warm yet hesitant smile on his face.

“Hey” he started, leaning against the chair opposite you. “Still working?”

You nodded, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah, I lost track of time. I didn’t realize it was already so late.”

He glanced outside, where the rain was now coming down in sheets. “It’s pouring pretty bad out there. Do you have a ride home?”

You hesitated, looking out at the wet streets. “No, I was just going to call for a cab or something.”

Haechan tilted his head, his smile softening. “I could give you a ride. My car’s parked just around the corner.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the offer. “Oh, I don’t want to bother you. It’s out of your way, I’m sure.”

“Not at all,” he assured you. “Besides, I wouldn’t feel right letting you head out in this weather on your own.”

You studied his face, noting the sincerity in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

He nodded, grabbing a chair and sitting down for a moment. “Absolutely. Besides, I’m off in ten minutes, so it’s perfect timing.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Okay. Thank you, Haechan. I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he said, standing up and glancing at your laptop. “Just don’t let your boss know you’re this dedicated, or they’ll start piling on more work.”

You laughed softly. “Noted. I’ll keep my workaholic tendencies a secret.”

Haechan returned to the counter, finishing up his closing tasks while you packed up your things. When he was ready, he grabbed his coat and umbrella, holding the door open for you as the two of you stepped into the rainy night.

The ride home was quiet but comfortable, the sound of rain against the car windows filling the silence. Occasionally, you’d catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, and you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter despite the gloomy weather

The rain had stopped, but the unease in the air lingered, wrapping around you like a cold embrace. That night, sleep came slowly, like a pull that took longer than usual to break through your conscious thoughts. When you finally slipped into slumber, your mind carried you away to a different time, a different life—one that felt both distant and familiar at the same time.

The first dream was peaceful.

You were older, you found yourself in a small, cozy house, the sunlight filtering through the windows in soft golden hues. The air smelled of fresh herbs and home-cooked meals, a quiet and comforting routine.

You were married—happily married to Haechan. You could feel the warmth of his hand in yours as you sat on the porch, the world quiet around you. His laugh filled the air, easy and carefree, and you found yourself smiling at his every word, every touch. You shared simple moments: laughing together over meals, holding hands during walks, and spending long evenings sitting in front of a fire.

This is what happiness feels like, you thought to yourself as you stared at his face in the glow of the firelight. He looked at you with such tenderness, and the love between the two of you felt endless.

At first, you thought you were going crazy, that your little crush on Haechan was starting to turn you into a delusional version of yourself. But then each time you closed your eyes, you found yourself in a different place, a different time. But somehow, they felt familiar, like pieces of a puzzle that belonged together, but the image wasn’t fully clear.

One night you found yourself standing in a dimly lit room, its walls cracked and stained with the remnants of war. The air was thick with smoke, and the distant sound of artillery fire echoed through the hazy sky. It was the Korean War, but something felt... wrong. You weren’t supposed to be there. The world around you seemed to be falling apart, yet you stood in the middle of it all, strangely calm, as though you had lived through this before.

And there, across from you, stood him—not Haechan, not the playful barista from Dream Café, but Donghyuck, older, battle-worn, and wearing a military uniform. His face was different, yet his eyes—those familiar brown eyes—pierced through the chaos, locking onto yours with a look of quiet recognition.

“Y/N” he called, his voice rough yet tender. You had heard him call your name before, many times, but this time it felt like it carried the weight of years, of battles fought and lost, of time slipping through your fingers.

“Come with me” he urged, his hand outstretched, but you hesitated.

Why does this feel so familiar? And why his name is Donghyuck?

You followed him anyway, stepping through the broken streets of a city that seemed to have once held life, now reduced to nothing more than ash. There was a sense of urgency in his movements, but there was something else, too. A bond. The bond between you both felt unbreakable, like you had always known each other, always been tethered in this strange dance of fate.

“Don’t look back” he whispered, guiding you through the ruins.

But as you ran, you couldn’t help but glance back. The faces of soldiers flashed by, their lives cut short by the cruel hands of war. But none of it mattered. It was him that mattered. Always him.

You didn’t know how much time passed, but suddenly, you were on the ground, the weight of his body pressing against yours, the distant echoes of gunfire fading into silence. His brown eyes looked at you once more, filled with a deep sadness that left a hollow ache in your chest.

“I’ll come back to you” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I promise.”

“Donghyuck” you breathed, your heart tearing as you reached out for him, but the world around you began to crumble, pulling you away from him.

His hand slipped from yours, and the dream shattered like glass, sending you hurtling into another life.

Then the dreams started shifting again. This time the world was different. The air was warmer, the sky clear and bright, and you were back on familiar ground—back in the 1980s. You could smell the scent of fresh school uniforms and the hum of teenage excitement in the air. You were younger now, walking through a bustling street, the world full of possibilities and innocence. And there he was again.

Haechan.

But now, he was not the soldier you had known before.

He was wearing a crisp school uniform, his hair styled in a way that made him look effortlessly cool, the swagger of youth in his every step. And those eyes—the same brown eyes—caught yours across the street, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background.

His smile was as playful as ever, the confidence of youth radiating off him. But there was something else in his gaze, something you couldn’t quite place.

“Hey, are you ready?” he asked, and the familiarity of his voice sent a rush of warmth through your chest.

And that was all it took. With that smile, that carefree laugh, you felt your heart start to beat faster, something stirring deep within you. The feeling of déjà vu crept up again, but this time, you embraced it.

You walked with him through the streets, the rhythm of his footsteps matching your own. His laugh echoed in your ears, and for a moment, you felt at peace. But deep down, something gnawed at you. Had you been here before?

Your head started spinning, the confusion flooded your mind as the memories shifted, start pulling you through time like a kaleidoscope of fragmented lives. But when it stopped you looked up and you saw Haechan—no, Donghyuck—fall once more, this time in the chaos of the streets.

You couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t save him again. And you felt that loss like a sharp pain in your chest.

You screamed for him, but his eyes closed, and he was gone.

His words wrapped around you like a lifeline, but you knew, deep down, that you had heard them before. And it always ended the same way.

You couldn’t save him.

You woke up, your heart racing, the images from the dream lingering in your mind like fragments of a story you couldn’t quite understand. You tried to shake them off, to focus on the present, but the memories refused to fade. Each life felt like an echo of something that had always been.

It wasn’t the first time you’d dreamed of these lives, but it was the first time you realized that each version of him—each Donghyuck, each Haechan—was always the same. And each time, you lost him. No matter how much you tried to change it, no matter how many lives you lived, you could never escape the inevitable.

And as the days passed, the memories began to intrude on your waking life, flashing before your eyes in the quiet moments of your day. You could feel them, feel the weight of every life you had lived, every time you had lost him. You couldn’t outrun it.

You couldn’t outrun the truth.

And as the memories of the past lingered, you couldn’t help but wonder... would this life, this one with Haechan, be the same? Would it end with him slipping away again? Or was there a way for you to change the ending? Were you cursed?

You didn’t know. You thought you were going crazy. You needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand. Chenle, your best friend.

You spotted Chenle at a corner table, already sipping on his drink, his sharp eyes watching you the moment you stepped inside.

Sliding into the seat across from him, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Chenle raised an eyebrow. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “It’s worse than that.”

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Okay, now I’m interested. Spill.”

You hesitated for a moment before lowering your voice. “I’ve been having dreams. But not just any dreams—memories. Past lives. And in every single one of them… he’s there.”

Chenle blinked. “Who?”

“Haechan.” The name barely left your lips before you saw the confusion settle on his face. “Or… Donghyuck. He had different names in each life, but it was always him.”

For the first time, Chenle didn’t have a sarcastic remark ready. He studied you carefully. “And what happens in these dreams?”

You swallowed hard. “We always find each other. And then… I lose him.” Your voice wavered. “Every single time.”

Chenle let out a slow breath, tapping his fingers against his cup. “That’s… insane.”

“I know,” you whispered. Your throat tightened. “But it feels so real. Every time I see him now, it’s like I already know him. Like I’ve already lost him before.”

For the first time, Chenle didn’t have some sarcastic remark ready. He just stared at you, the weight of your words settling between you both.

“Y/N…” he started, but then stopped. His fingers drummed lightly on the table, deep in thought. “So, do you think he remembers too?”

You inhaled sharply. That was the one question you hadn’t let yourself dwell on.

What if he didn’t? What if, to him, you were just a stranger?

Or worse—what if he did remember?

What if he was waiting for you to realize it?

Chenle must have noticed the shift in your expression because his gaze softened. “You have to talk to him.”

Your pulse quickened. “What if—”

“No ‘what ifs,’” he interrupted. “If this is real—if he remembers too—you deserve to know.”

The words settled deep inside you. The truth was, you already knew you needed to talk to Haechan. You had known it from the moment you started dreaming of him.

Chenle glanced at his phone. “I have to go, but…” He gave you a pointed look. “You’re staying, aren’t you?”

You hesitated before nodding.

He sighed dramatically. “Alright, but don’t come crying to me if it turns out you’re just obsessed with your barista.”

You rolled your eyes, but his teasing tone made your shoulders relax just a little.

As he got up and left, you stayed behind, staring down at your untouched drink. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

And then—

“Still deep in thought?”

You looked up.

Haechan was standing by your table, wiping his hands on a towel, his usual teasing smirk playing on his lips.

Your throat went dry. Now or never.

“Haechan, can I talk to you?”

He blinked, surprised by your serious tone. But then, something shifted in his expression. Slowly, he placed the towel down and slid into the seat across from you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of your dreams, your memories, your entire existence pressed down on you. But just as you opened your mouth—

He smiled. A knowing, almost expectant smile.

“I was waiting for you to remember, Y/N.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The world around you seemed to freeze.

“I—” you started, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Haechan leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. His gaze softened, but there was something else there—something deep, something sad.

“We’ve been here before” he murmured. “Not just here. Every lifetime. Every version of us.”

The air felt heavier. You gripped the edge of the table. “Then… it’s real?” Your voice barely came out as a whisper.

He nodded. “You’re not crazy. I remember everything too.”

The revelation sent a shiver through your entire body. “But why? Why does it always end the same?”

Haechan exhaled, looking past you, as if staring at something only he could see. “Because we were cursed.”

Your heart pounded. “Cursed?”

He finally looked back at you, “A long time ago, in one of our first lives, we did something that angered the wrong people. A love like ours wasn’t supposed to exist, they said. And so, they cursed us—to find each other in every life, only to be torn apart before we could have our ending.”

The words sent a chill down your spine. Images of your dreams—the war, the school, the deaths—flashed before your eyes. So you lived even more than three lives?

“So that’s why…” you trailed off, your voice shaking.

Haechan nodded. “Every time I see you, I hope maybe this will be the life we break free. That maybe, this time, we change the ending.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “But how? How do we stop it?”

His hand reached forward, brushing your cheek, grounding you. His warmth seeped into your skin, a reminder that this was real.

“I don’t know” he admitted. “But I do know one thing.”

You swallowed, eyes locked onto his. “What?”

“I love you” he whispered. “Every time, in every life. And I will always find you.”

Before you could even process his words, his hands cupped your face with a tenderness that sent a jolt of something deep into your soul.

And then—he kissed you.

The second his lips met yours, it was like a floodgate had opened. Memories crashed into you, overlapping with the present. The warmth of his embrace in a small war-torn house. The laughter of your teenage selves echoing in the 1980s streets. The desperate reach of his hand as he was ripped away from you in battle.

Every life. Every moment.

And now—this.

This life.

This kiss.

Your fingers clutched onto his shirt, afraid to let go, afraid that if you did, he would slip away like he had so many times before.

But he didn’t.

Not this time.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes met his, wide and searching. He smiled again, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“I told you I’d come back to you.”

Tears spilled down your face, but you laughed, shaking your head. “You always say that.”

“And I always mean it.”

This time, you believed him.

Because this time, you weren’t going to lose him.

Because this time, you were going to break the curse.

THE END.

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pinkiemachine · 1 day ago

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Kon x M'gann HC's Part 2 Pretty Please with All the Fixings?

Loving the story.

Alrighty! Part 2!

So, to start off, I’ll just ramble a bit more about M’gann and Kon’s dynamic, then finish up the story :) Also posting this again because I think it turned out SO GOSH DARN CUTE! X3 (P.S. listen to “Bewitched” or “Serendipity” by Laufy. I feel like it captures the ✨ vibes ✨)

So it’s no surprise, after reading part 1, that Kon’s biggest flaw is that he’s very immature. He can get pouty and possessive when M’gann is paying attention to someone else, or when she’s gone for a while. He’s also a bit of an attention seeker, and he loves compliments and positive reinforcement of any kind. The first time M’gann gave him a kiss on the cheek, his world changed forever. Pretty sure it took the other guys about five minutes to snap him out of it. But, thankfully, as the story goes on, Kon gets a crash-course in a lot of things, including curbing his immaturity. He learns that you’re not supposed to roughhouse with girls (unless they’re comfortable with that sort of thing, and even then, don’t hurt them—super-strength and all), and he learns that sometimes M’gann is gonna pay attention to other people or go away for a little while and that’s normal and he doesn’t need to be overly upset about it. (He still pouts and misses her, though. It can’t be helped.) But the thing that he still has a problem with, to this day, is being a bit too aggressive when it comes to defending M’gann. The first time they met another Martian who was horribly rude to her, Kon almost brought out the laser eyes! Like, that dude would have been dust in the wind if the other TT hadn’t stepped in. Kon just can’t stand the idea of anyone hating M’gann, and for such a superficial reason no less! She’s beautiful and should be treated like she’s beautiful! (His words, not mine :) Ultimately, Kon HAS to keep himself in check on that account or else he risks starting an interplanetary war, but boy it’s hard.

M’gann sometimes falls back on her old habits and becomes a “yes woman,” agreeing to everything Kon wants to do even if she secretly wants to do something else. Cassie and Steph are the first to take notice of this behaviour, and help teach her to say “no.” If she’s uncomfortable, Kon isn’t gonna realise it on his own unless she tells him. She’s got to learn to put her foot down on things or she’s gonna be miserable. So M’gann practises this and other types of conversation in front of her mirror at night, and the first time she ever said no to one of Kon’s ideas, she felt so proud of herself! She wouldn’t stop smiling for the whole day! Kon had no idea why she was so happy, but when she was happy, he was happy, so it was a good day all the way around.

The dates they like to go on involve taking long walks around Earth. Neither of them had ever seen an ocean before, so they went to go see the ocean. Neither of them had ever been to a cheese factory before, so they went to go see a cheese factory and got free cheese curds on the way out. Then they went to a real baseball game and ate real hotdogs—they went to a museum (which M’gann liked more than Kon did, but they made it fun in the end)—they went on hikes, marvelling at all the different types of trees and bushes and butterflies and spiders and ants and birds and they even spotted a deer in the distance—and all the while, they would take pictures. So. Many. Pictures. M’gann has this old-school Martian camera and puts photo albums together of all the stuff she and Conner do together, like they’re already an old married couple. lol. Then, of course, when both of them are too tired to go out anywhere, they curl up on the couch and watch some of those old sitcoms M’gann grew up on. M’gann’s favourite is “That Girl” and Kon’s is “Hogan’s Heroes.”

Okay, now I’ve thoroughly set up how much fun they had together, time to make it all come crumbling down.

In the last post I said that Kon kept M’gann’s secret about being a white Martian and her past from the NTT and the JLA, but there was one person he was obligated to tell: Lex Luthor. Being that he was secretly working for the bald maniac, and it was his job to report in with any new information he’d learned, he had no choice. Even when he tried to lie or exclude details, Luthor grew suspicious of him and forced the info out of him. So when the reveal of his betrayal happened, it was so much worse for M’gann. Lex used what he had learned to help take her down, and also create a rift between her and Kon, because he wasn’t supposed to be getting attached to M’gann anyway. Kon was ordered to forget about her because he was never going to see her ever again, and M’gann wanted to forget Kon for sharing her most sacred secret. Not to mention, he had been lying to her from the start about his past, about his intentions, and who knows what else. Had he been using her to get information about the Justice League? About her uncle? Yes, he had, and he wanted to tell M’gann that he was ashamed of what he had done, but Lex wouldn’t let them be in the same room, so M’gann was left to think all sorts of awful things about him. It was a dismal day. This event is covered in full in another post which I will link below.

Now, of course, this story has a happy ending (because happy endings are the best kind of endings). Lex is eventually defeated, Kon is freed from him and LexCorp, and for once he gets to call the shots in his life. The first is going to M’gann and trying to make things up to her in any way he can. Now, at this point, M’gann knows that Lex was twisting Kon’s arm to a certain extent, so her anger is a little softened, but she still feels like an idiot for trusting him so easily, and she’s nervous about trusting him again. He’s still such an immature person—who knows what kind of big mistake he’ll make next?

Kon plucks up his courage and makes a traditional Martian apology to her—the big ceremonial kind meant for state officials and royalty when they’ve severely messed up something BIG—and begs her to give him one more chance. He knows full well that he’s a bit of a dunce when it comes to girls and Earth culture and even being a good person (again, his words) but he wants to be a better friend, he wants to be a good hero, and more than anything else he wants to be the best boyfriend he could possibly be for her. When he was making his decision to finally stand up against Lex, he was afraid of what Lex would do to him… but then he thought of M’gann. He remembered how much she meant to him, and that Lex was planning on hurting her as a part of his evil scheme, and even if it meant Lex would go ahead and terminate him and make another clone, he didn’t care. M’gann mattered more. And she always would. So, with all of this before her, M’gann was quite stunned, to say the least. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Given the fact that Kon had partaken in much of Lex’s plan willingly, the JLA agreed that some form of punishment was only fair, so it had been decided that Kon would spend a year on the Kent farm, essentially doing community service by helping them with all the chores. He would be confined to the property during all of that time, too, so the two of them were going to spend the next year in different places. M’gann hesitantly answered Kon’s apology with a “Maybe… I could write to you… and we’ll see where it goes from there.”

Kon was so happy. He plowed through all his chores on the Kent farm each and every day—Ma and Pa, and sometimes Clark when he had the time—would teach him things and show him to do stuff, like carpentry. And then, every day he’d go and check the mailbox, waiting for a letter from M’gann, and when he’d get one, he’d race up to his room (Clark’s old room) and read it ten times over. Then he’d grab a paper and pen and write his response, filling her in on all the things that had happened on the farm the last week or so. They wrote to each other non-stop that year, eagerly, patiently waiting for Kon’s sentence to be up. And when it had been a full year, and Kon came back to the city and the NTT, he and M’gann went for a walk in the park, and without saying a word, they both knew… there was no one else they’d rather spend the rest of their life with.

(Then the picture is from a little party the gang threw in celebration of their victories over all their villains, including Lex, and everyone was encouraged to wear their home country’s traditional garb, and maybe even bring some traditional food or a traditional party game. It was a fun night, and M’gann and Conner got to see each other dressed up for the first time (probably. I haven’t written out each individual episode for the NTT yet, but I like to imagine this is the first time ☺️))

Part 1 👇

Kon’s backstory is included in this post… 👇

#art #fan art #dc #dc comics #teen titans #the new teen titans #m’gannxconner #m’gann m’orzz #miss martian #conner kent #kon el #superboy #miss martian x superboy

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rederiswrites · 1 day ago

Text

[read it on AO3]

It had been a week since they’d found D’Meta’s Crossing. A terrible, helpless week, in which they’d turned up no new leads, no next steps. No way to fight back against the vastness of this cruelty and destruction. A horrible emptiness and fatigue had crept into Arden’s every waking moment.

“I don’t know, Varric,” he said. “I just don’t–how can something so cruel exist? Why would any thinking creature do this?”

There was a moment of silence as Varric shifted in his cot, trying to sit up more. Arden got up quickly, arranging the pillows behind him, until Varric settled back with a nod of thanks.

“You know, I like to pretend I have a knack for words, but that’s one I can’t explain. People do a lot of evil. Sometimes they’re just so tangled up in their own hurts, they think they’re just protecting themselves. But this? I think this is something different.” Varric stopped, scratching his chin where the stubble was getting thick. “Solas said they were Blighted. Well, that’s like Corypheus. Like Meredith, at the end, given what we know about red lyrium. I think they were always cruel people. But the Blight made everything so much worse. And if that’s true–Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, they’ve been Blighted for thousands of years.”

On the floor next to Varric's cot, Arden put his head in his hands, pressing his palms against his eyes. He leaned into his hands hard, trying to gain an inch to think. Maker, why couldn’t he just think?

“I feel so…bad!” he finally burst out. “Varric, why do I feel so bad? What’s wrong with me? I can’t sleep, and I can’t wake up. I ache! And there’s this…this burning in my chest, and it just won’t go away. It’s like I could swallow it down but I can’t.” For a second, he felt himself shake, as if he were about to cry, but as always these past days, no tears came. “Am I Blighted? How would I know?”

“No,” said Varric. “No, I don’t think that’s it. Rook, you ever lost someone? Someone close?”

Arden looked up, confused. “I mean, my grandmother.”

“The one that called you ‘boy’ and liked to tell you they should’ve left you on the battlefield as a baby?” Arden nodded. “Yeah, not sure I’d call that someone really close, then,” Varric said dryly.

“Why? What’s that got to do with it?” Arden asked.

Varric sighed. “Because I think what you’re feeling is grief.”

The two of them sat in silence, the shadows of the room wrapping around them. Arden stared at Varric, but Varric was looking into the invisible distance, seeing who knew what.

“Grief?” It didn’t make sense.

“Grief,” said Varric, “is a terrible thing. It eats everything around it. It drains you, body and soul. You feel it in your heart.”

Arden sat with that, eyes closed, and at last he felt the bloom of tears against his eyelids. He took a shaky breath.

“D’Meta’s Crossing. All those people. Children. There were children, in the–” he couldn’t say it, and couldn’t erase it. In the pulsing, tangled masses, amidst the boils and sickened roots. In the piles of dead, heaped up by the uncaring hands of people who had once loved them. “All dead. And how many more, Varric? How many dying right now, and I’m just sitting here, and I can’t even pull it together.”

“Yeah, that’s the grief. I’m sorry, Rook.”

“How…how do you manage? How do you live with it?” There were tears on Arden’s cheeks now, but it was no relief. “It’s crushing me!”

“I know. I know, kid. I’m sorry. It–” he broke off, closing his eyes for a minute. “It gets lighter, bit by bit. You go for stretches where you forget. Sometimes you wake up in the morning and it’s not the first thing you think about. But it’ll hit you again, out of nowhere. You just…get used to it.”

“It feels impossible.”

“Yeah, but people do it every day. And it’ll teach you something, too.”

“What’s that?” Arden asked.

“To value what you have, while you have it. To make sure you love things while they’re here.” Varric sighed again. “Especially if you didn’t do that before it was too late.”

It hurt so much. Arden took breath after breath, but every time it felt like he wouldn’t be able to take the next one.

“Nothing can ever be the way it was,” Arden choked out. The burning in his chest was so strong; it was agonizing. “Can we even stop them? Can we save anything? Varric–” and he said the name like a plea; please, please tell me it’ll be okay, but it can’t. It can’t be okay. “Varric, this is my fault.”

“Hey! Hey, look at me.” Arden obeyed, looking up at Varric, vision warped by the tears. “We’ve been over this. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s mine. Well, mine and Solas’. You did what I asked you to.”

“What difference does intention make if it destroys so much!?” Arden was nearly shouting, now. “What I’ve let out–it’s worse than anything Solas was doing! At least he meant there to be a world left when he was done! This–this is going to destroy everything!”

“Okay, you want to talk about fault?” Varric snapped. “Let’s talk about fault, because we’ve been over all this before but I know you’re forgetting. Who was it that found that knife in the Deep Roads, back when it was red lyrium? Me. Who was there when we freed Corypheus? Me. Sure, I thought what I was doing was good then, too. How many people have died? Nobody can count. We’re still fighting the red lyrium. Maybe we always will be. I’m too old to pretend about this, Rook. Almost every damned time something went straight to the Void in the last twenty years, I was right there in the middle. So do you hate me?”

“No!”

“What about Solas? His ritual. His dagger. His war, that we’ve gotten sucked into thousands of years later. Do you hate him?”

“I don’t…I don’t think so? I mean, we’ve seen what he was fighting. I don’t even know what to think, any more.” Arden swiped a sleeve across his nose, trying to stop sniveling like a child. “I don’t know, any more.”

“We didn’t create all this cruelty, Rook. We just…tripped over it, I guess you could say. Tore the wound open. And maybe I should hate myself. And maybe some days I do. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. A lot of really big mistakes.” Varric stopped, taking a deep breath. “Maybe that’s why I don’t want to give up on Solas, who knows.”

“Varric, no–” Arden ached. Varric almost never opened up like this, and it was terrible to see.

“But you aren’t one of those mistakes, kid. You’re one of the best decisions I ever made.” Varric nodded to himself. “And I know that you’ll find a way through this.”

“How?”

“For now? One step at a time. Just figure out the next step, Rook. It’ll get easier once you’re moving.”

#write what you know hahaha #this is definitely only about a video game haha #stuff red wrote #arden mercar #dragon age #dragon age rook #varric tethras

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noellawrites · 1 day ago

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Dark!Sonny Carisi R*pe and Impregnation HC’s

a/n: happy anniversary my love @rafaslittleboy <3 also gender neutral but afab reader

warning: DARK CONTENT AHEAD, please do not read if this disturbs you! includes: rape, impregnation, virginity loss, inaccurate portrayal of abortion laws, manipulation, forced pregnancy, lmk if i missed any

- As Dominick Carisi Junior’s paralegal, you have a very professional relationship with him. Always running errands, filing papers, gathering reports

- But one day, he asks if you’re free that evening to babysit his three kids

- And you agree, of course, knowing he’s been going through a rough period with his wife

- But when you arrive, only Sonny is there

- “Sorry kid, there’s been a change ‘a plans. ‘Manda’s mom’s watchin’ the kids, ‘n ‘Manda’s off doin’ work stuff,” Dominick sighs, welcoming you in

- You’d been alone with Mr. Carisi many times, but this felt… different. The vibes were off

- He tells you to stick around, that you can help him out with work stuff and he’ll still give you money for it

- You share a few drinks, not unlike some of the late nights you’ve spent in his office together

- Later on, you’re definitely tipsy and sitting on the couch next to your boss

- All of a sudden, his lips are on yours in a passionate kiss, and you feel sick and confused

- Your brain is lagging behind your body, and Mr. Carisi is pulling your underwear and bottoms down your legs

- “Shh, this is jus’ between us, kiddo. Lemme make ‘ya feel good,” he say in your ear as your head lolls back

- At some point, you end up on the bed and he’s pulling his dick out of his pants

- “Been waitin’ so long f’this,” you hear him growl before he pushes in, painfully taking your virginity as you lay paralyzed with fear

- “Mr. Carisi, s-stop!” you whimper, which is pretty much all you can do as he fucks you deeper and more passionately

- He’s thrusting so roughly, and after a few moments you can feel him blow his load in you as he tells you how tight your hole is

- You pass out at some point and wake up in his marital bed the next morning with a dull, throbbing pain between your legs and a check for seventy-five thousand dollars on the nightstand next to you

- You think you must’ve imagined it, you’re in shock and disbelief. Your boss, the man who has worked to bring sexual predators to justice for the last decade? Raping you?

- And the next day at work, Mr. Carisi acts totally normal. Talks about how proud he is of his kids, how his son just took his first steps. It’s almost like nothing ever happened between you

- He gives you a wink, saying he’s always down for some more fun, and that’s the last you hear of it

- You love your job, and you need it, so you go back to acting normal with Mr. Carisi

- Until six weeks later, when you start arriving late and disheveled, sometimes calling out entirely

- “What’s goin’ on with ‘ya, kiddo? C’mon, talk t’me,” Sonny presses, putting a hand on your shoulder comfortingly

- He hasn’t crossed your boundaries since that night, so you’ve gotten more comfortable with him again

- “I’ve just been really sick,” you mumble, rubbing your forehead

- “Maybe ah’ should take ‘ya to a doctor,” he frowns, feigning concern. He knows exactly what’s “wrong” with you.

- “I’m fine,” you mumble, but after a few moments you get up and run to the bathroom to puke again

- “Let’s go,” you sigh, “I probably have the flu or something.”

- The doctor writes down your symptoms and orders a blood test, and you wait in the lobby with Sonny for about an hour until your results are ready

- You know you must be imagining it when the nurse tells you that you’re pregnant, about six weeks along

- Sonny hugs you, tells you how amazing it is that you’ve created the miracle of life together, and you stand still in shock.

- The first words to come out of your mouth are, “when can I come back for an abortion?”

- Sonny’s smile falls and he grabs your wrist, “what tha’ hell?”

- You tell him you don’t want a kid, you’re too young and not ready for it, but he’s not listening

- "'Ya really want an abortion? I ain't gonna let that happen, kiddo. I'll see 'ya in court," he snaps.

- The nurse gives you some resources but you know that Mr. Carisi will find a way to get what he wants, like always

- Your lawyer tells you that Amanda has been unfaithful to Sonny and he just found out that Nicky Carisi isn't his biological son, which is why he's so adamant on forcing you to carry to term

- Your lawyer goes for the rape angle, since you were actually raped and shouldn't be forced to carry the child

- Needless to say, Sonny and his lawyer eviscerate you on the stand, and it's emphasized by the sob story of what happened with Amanda

- He truly sees you and this child as his second chance, and there is no way he's letting you ruin it

- You can't take care of your newborn in New York City on a paralegal salary, and Sonny convinces you to move in with him and out of your shitty apartment

- You share custody, but slowly you can feel yourself becoming more attached to both Sonny and your baby

- You have to work from home, both the new baby and the postpartum struggles making it too hard to go in and do your job

- Before long, Sonny is already talking about baby number two. He needs this family, needs to rebuild what he lost through Amanda's infidelity

- That's when you realize, it was hopeless to ever try and leave

#law and order svu x reader #dark sonny carisi #yandere law and order svu #sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu imagine #carisi x reader #dark law and order svu #yandere sonny carisi #dark law and order imagine

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maeslastbraincell · 1 day ago

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On my own (Mon histoire) translation from the new Les Mis version at the Châtelet!

I'm alone once again without a friend on this earth (Je suis toute seule encore une fois sans un ami sur cette terre)

I'm not in a hurry to go back to my solitude and misery (Chui [je ne suis] pas pressée de retrouver ma solitude et ma misère)

I wait for the night to come so I can see him in my memory (J'attends que vienne le soir pour le revoir dans ma mémoire)

Sometimes I walk alone at night the streets of Paris are mine (Parfois je marche seule dans la nuit les rues de Paris m'appartiennent)

He comes to me, I run to him and I put my hand in his (Il vient vers moi, je cours vers lui et je mets ma main dans la sienne)

The city sleep in the dark (La ville dors dans le noir)

I can invent my story (Je peux m'inventer mon histoire)

My story (Mon histoire)

It's a dream beggining (C'est un rêve qui commence)

I see him, he smiles, he comes to me (Je le vois, il sourit, il s'avance)

Eyes closed, Marius finally embraces me (Les yeux fermés, Marius enfin m'enlace)

And I pray that his embrace never breaks away (Et je pris pour que jamais son étreinte ne se défasse)

With him, I am not the same (Avec lui, je ne suis plus la même)

I love rain, and when we walk together (J'aime la pluie, et quand on se promène)

Our two shadows, like two loving giants (Nos deux ombres, comme deux géants qui s'aiment)

Stretch at our feet and walk together on the Seine (S'allonge à nos pieds et marchent enlacés sur la Seine)

I know well that I inevented everything (Je sais bien que j'ai tout inventé)

I know well that he is never with me (Je sais bien qu'il n'est jamais à mes côtés)

And yet, I keep believing (Et pourtant, je continue à croire)

That with him I'm living a story (Qu'avec lui je vis une histoire)

Yes, I love him, but when the day begins (Oui je l'aime, mais quand le jour se lève)

The morning erased my dream (Le matin a effacé mon rêve)

And the world, back to itself (Et le monde, redevenu le même)

Lost its colors and the rainbow [lost] its tiara (A perdu ses couleurs et l'arc-en-ciel son diadème)

Yes, I love him, but I am alone in the world (Oui je l'aime, mais je suis seule au monde)

All my life, I waited for a shadow (Toute ma vie, j'ai attendu une ombre)

My story is an empty shell (Mon histoire est une coquille vide)

A world full of happiness, in which I never had a part (Un monde plein de bonheur dont je n'ai jamais eu ma part)

Yes, I love him (Oui je l'aime)

Yes, I love him (Oui, je l'aime)

Yes, I love him (Oui je l'aime)

All alone in my story (Toute seule dans mon histoire)

#les miserables #les mis #les mis chatelet #les mis translatiom #les mis french

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saeki-rina · 2 days ago

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It Is a Necessary Part of Loving Him

I’m really curious about how the conversation between Runaan and Ethari went when they discussed the assassin’s return before King Ezran of Katolis.

When did they talk about it? What words did Runaan use? How did he justify a meeting that could take away their life together forever—one they had only just regained? How did Ethari react? Did they argue about it? Did Ethari have any resentment toward Runaan? Did Runaan feel that his decision was causing Ethari pain? Did they consider together what they would do if Ezran decided to permanently imprison or execute Runaan? Would Runaan have wanted Ethari to move on—to find love again—if that happened? Did Ethari try to dissuade Runaan from meeting with Ezran? Or did he agree with him, even though it hurt? What were they thinking and feeling on the way to the meeting? How would they have acted if Ezran had chosen not to forgive Runaan? What happened between them after that conversation?

I see their relationship as full of love and mutual respect, but also deeply challenging because of Runaan’s profession. Even though Bloodmoon Huntress shows that Ethari is, in his mind, prepared for the possibility of losing Runaan, the show makes it clear that this doesn’t lessen his suffering in the slightest. That’s why I keep wondering—what went on inside Ethari when Runaan said he had to face the consequences of his actions?

Did he accept it with the same respect and understanding as he had for the calling that summoned Runaan away? Or deep down, did he wish Runaan were just a little less honorable—that he would put their family’s safety first? Even if he knew, logically, that would be an illusion—because this unresolved matter would likely never let Runaan rest. When they both understood how much Runaan had to lose after two years of imprisonment in the coin, did they truly say, out loud, how much Ethari had to lose as well?

And I'm very curious — did Ethari ever have a moment when he thought that loving Runaan was too painful—that it demanded too much of him?

Could this have been that moment—the decision to meet with Ezran?

Because no matter how much we love someone, no matter how much we understand that a necessary part of loving them is also accepting that they will make difficult decisions, no matter how much we have come to terms with the inherent risks of the relationship—sometimes, the situation can simply overwhelm us and make us question everything.

I’d love to hear your thoughts and opinions. And if anyone ever writes a fanfic (or if one already exists) about this Ruthari conversation or pre-canon when they handle the issue of Runaan's job, let me know—I’d love to read it!

#tdp runaan #tdp ethari #ruthari #tdp ezran #moonfam #ruthari reunion #tdp spoilers #tdp s7 #the mystery of aaravos #bloodmoon huntress #ruthari marriage #moonshadow elves #moonshadow assassin

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exhaustedpirate · 1 day ago

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to make a family whole

day 8 of @bucktommyfluffebruary - surprise! Im bringing back my beloved piper from “on waking up beside you” and “fire engine red” - she’s a safe haven that post-breakup buck took care of while at the station and bonded with, bc he couldn’t take care of her he decided to pester poor joan, the social worker about piper’s well-being. let’s say his persistence bears fruits and joan was actually charmed.

rated G | 1294 words

also on AO3

“We have reservations in,” Buck checks his watch with a sigh. “Half an hour, are you ready?”

Tommy’s voice speaks over the sound of the faucet. “I just need a minute, babe, promise.”

Buck sighs. They were going to be late.

Not like they had had much luck during their previous anniversaries. Their first dating anniversary, the restaurant burned down two hours before their reservation - Buck was actually called to assist when the fire began to spread. Luckily, there had been no casualties.

For their second anniversary, Buck was planning to go all romantic comedy on Tommy. Get them both dressed up, take him to a fancy restaurant and, when they brought the desert, he’d ask a very important question. They did not count on the fire alarm being set off due to a malfunction. The whole restaurant was doused by the rogue sprinklers and they had all stood on the parking lot, drenched and cold. Thank god for his boyfriend’s warm body.

The waiter approached them while they all waited outside. He tried to be as discreet as possible but really, it wasn’t like Tommy was not gonna notice the ring.

Yeah, yeah, Buck was gonna hide the ring in the desert. He was trying to be romantic.

Turns out, a parking lot proposal can still be just as romantic.

Their first wedding anniversary was ruined by a vicious stomach bug - nothing like dealing with gastroenteritis together to bring a couple closer - and their second led to a very embarrassing ER trip. They decided to put a pause on impulsive adventures in the bedroom.

Now, for their third wedding anniversary, Buck had decided to make a simpler plan. Reservations at a restaurant close to them, with food they know and love and absolutely no more surprises. Easy and intimate. They’d try their luck again next year, he thought.

Of course, it would be a perfect plan if Tommy would hurry.

“20 minutes, Tommy.” Buck whines, standing by the door.

“I’m sorry, I’m ready,” Tommy rushes out of the bedroom, fixing his tie. Buck lets out a frustrated breath and puts his hands on his hips, Tommy grins apologetically as he looks at his husband. “You look gorgeous as always, husband.”

Buck tries to keep his frustration even as Tommy lays a smacking kiss on his lips but if it hadn’t been the kisses, the way the word “husband” from the other man’s mouth still makes him melt would have done it. With a sigh, Buck pulls Tommy to him by his tie and kisses him softly.

“You look gorgeous too.”

Tommy smiles that scrunchy smile and Buck would propose again if he could. His husband holds out his arm for Buck to take. “Shall we?”

“Ye-”

His phone rings.

Both of them frown at it for a second. Their whole family knows of their celebration, as simple as it may be, they wouldn’t call if it wasn’t for anything serious. Please, not another emergency.

“I-I should-” Buck starts, grabbing his phone from his trousers pocket while Tommy nods.

It isn’t Maddie or Chimney. It isn’t Hen or Karen. It isn’t Bobby and it certainly isn’t Athena. It isn’t Eddie, despite his sometimes forgetfulness regarding the Buckley-Kinard’s plans.

“J-Joan is calling me.” Buck mumbles as he reads the name on his phone screen.

“W-What?”

“Joan is calling me.” He repeats as if it’ll make more sense the second time.

The couple looks at each other and then back at the phone, back at each other again. His husband seems to get his wits about him faster, thankfully.

“What are you waiting for? Pick up, pick up.”

Buck takes a deep breath while the other man crosses his arms over his chest, one hand playing with his bottom lip. He exudes nerves and confusion. He knows exactly what a call from Joan means - better yet, knows how strange it is that Joan is calling him at all.

Joan never calls him. He always calls her.

Holy shit.

His finger trembles as he accepts the call and clears his throat. “H-Hello?”

“Mr. Buckley,” The woman on the other side of the phone speaks in a professional tone, not the usual fondly exasperated sigh, and Buck even forgets to correct the last name as he usually does. “I’m sorry for calling so late.”

“No, you’re-it’s alright,” He scratches his scalp, ignoring the way it messes his hair. “I mean, is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes,” Joan is nervous. Oh, that’s weird. “I wanted to talk to you about P-the baby.”

Buck feels like his heart is about to explode out of chest. “Is she okay?” He feels Tommy’s comforting touch on his forearms and it helps keep his heart inside of his body even if it’s stuck at his throat.

“She’s safe,” Joan quickly assures him and he relishes in the deep breath he takes. “She’s back with us.”

Buck frowns and Tommy matches, even if he can’t hear what’s being said. “What do you mean?”

“Well, her foster parents went back on the adoption.”

“But she was with them for like two years, h-how-what?!”

“Take a deep breath, baby.” Tommy whispers, taking hold of his hand, and Buck tries to temper the anger in his chest.

“I can’t disclose much over the phone, Mr. Buckley,” Joan’s professional tone is back and he almost cherishes it - someone in this call should keep their wits. “Would you be able to come to the office tomorrow morning?”

“Y-yeah, I’m free but-“

“I knew you were attached to the baby when we first met,” Joan interrupts, sentimentality creeping into her voice. “And I also know that you weren’t in the right space to take her.”

Buck nods wordlessly. He still remembered holding that baby for the first time after pulling her out of the baby box outside the fire station. Still remembered the way the baby held his fingers, her noises, gurgles, cries. And he still remembered, could feel it even now, how hard it was to have to give her to the social worker. But Joan had been kind and always took his calls, even if it was to say the same thing everytime - “I can’t disclose private information, Mr. Buckley, but she’s safe”.

Tommy, his beautiful husband, holds his hand tighter. He also knows about it all, may not have felt it but he knows. Buck told him all about meeting the small baby after their breakup, how it had felt good to make someone happy for that day. Told him how he had wished he was in a better place so he could take her home. But he couldn’t.

But maybe now-

“I’m hoping that maybe now, things are different?” Joan’s tone was hopeful and Buck’s heart pounds in his chest with the same hope.

Maybe now.

He looks into Tommy’s eyes and his husband looks back, the love of his life sees what he doesn’t have the words to say. He’s so lucky. Tommy smiles at him, that hopeful smile that was there when he first saw the wedding ring, when they first kissed, in that little café. His husband nods and Buck feels all the pieces fitting together, pieces that he didn’t even know were scattered.

“What time do you want me there, Joan?”

He hears her relieved breath and smiles. “9 o’clock?”

Buck grins. “We’ll be there.”

As soon as he hangs up, he is pulled into a kiss, a passionate and happy kiss that he is more than happy to reciprocate. A kiss that tastes salty but the good kind.

They don’t make their reservations. They order Chinese as Buck brings out the clipboard, they start making plans.

As far as surprises on their anniversaries, getting a daughter is probably the best of them.

#carolina writes #bucktommy fluffebruary #bucktommy #tevan #bucktommy fic #tevan fic

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write-it-good-imagines · 1 month ago

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Nothing More(M) - Seven

(Writer's message)Hello everyone, Merry Christmas!! In the spirit of GOT7 returning to our hearts and to the stage I wanted to return to this story and try to finish it. It often happens that I get inspiration every once in a while, so I might have a writing boost these next couple of days. There's much I fantasize about in my head but I'll make no promises. Enjoy the last few days of the year in the Christmas spirit <3

~6k words, implication of sex, romance, hurt/comfort

If you leave this time, I'll feel that you be gone for good So, I'll hold on like leaves in Fall to what is left

It seems that all the autumn leaves are falling I feel like you're the only reason for it...

"Break up with her? What are you even talking about?"

Jonathan looked at Jackson with a disapproving look and almost made a leap into the room if it wasn't for Samantha's acknowledging look. "Did you break up with her?"

Mark's eyes darted back and forth between Jonathan and Jackson. The latter couldn't have chosen a worse time to barge in. Still, Mark straightened his back protectively, shielding the woman from the inquiring looks of the crowd. Truth be told, he was ashamed of himself at how quickly he chose to give up on Samantha, that he instigated that situation himself. He felt the need to make up for the doubts and for the lost time, more so after standing up to Henry's antics.

"No, Jackson, why are you here?"

"I don't have time to explain," after taking his phone out of the jacket, Jackson showed it to Mark. In a hurried motion, Mark took it out of Jackson's hand, understanding the situation right away. "We need to catch that plane, you know?"

It did not mean the position Samantha was in those photos was any less hurtful, even though those men in the pictures should have been well outside of her romantic life. Mark instinctively glanced at Jonathan. The way Samantha's head was leaning against his shoulder, both in motorcycle attire opposite their bikes, in an otherwise peaceful setting, irked him. It also goes without saying that the additional picture where she was kissing the bartender was the cherry on top. Which he never knew about.

At the end of the gallery, the pictures capturing some of the most beautiful moments between Mark and Samantha were displayed: their longing goodbyes at either of their houses, the joyful smiles of the park outing, and him seeing her off at his group's office building. Samantha was watching Mark's finger as he slid between the pictures, the soft skin of her lower lip quickly drenching in blood from the cruelty of her teeth.

"They are going to crucify me," the woman stated matter-of-factly, driving both Leena and Jonathan to demand an explanation.

"Mark will need to make a statement, one way or another." Jackson copied her tone, his attention towards her. "Out of experience, you should not speak to them, nor make any social media post, nothing."

Samantha turned to Mark. "Shouldn't I defend myself?! I am trying to go back to surgery; this is going to effectively shut down all the career I've built."

Mark handed the phone back to Jackson, his other hand sliding away from Samantha's body. He knew all the strict surveillance of the Korean media, the scrutiny of the public, and the haunting chance of destroying the reputations of not only him but his group as well. At the other end of the line, it was Samantha's image and credibility within her professional field. The sun felt like it would shy away from the grey of the clouds only to run away into the void again.

He should have been more careful.

Mark cupped Samantha's cheek to lay a peck on her lips and bring their foreheads together. Beyond feeling baited into what the paparazzi wanted them to feel, he recognized she needed him to be strong for the both of them. Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose, albeit hiding his proud smile. That was when Jonathan knew Samantha was no longer in his reach.

"Do you trust me?"

Samantha grasped his wrist with the faintest of a nod.

"I'll call very soon, okay?"

Mark brought his head to her temple, whispering something inaudible to the assisting public. He then pulled apart, gesturing to Jackson that they would leave. The boys stopped before Jonathan and Leena, with Mark measuring the blonde in a split of a moment.

"I know you both care about each other. The security of the hospital will need to be alerted for forced paparazzi entrance; this is going to be published very soon. Can you take care of her while I'm gone?"

Jonathan scoffed as he watched the two singers walk away hurriedly. "Bet I will."

"We'll make a statement saying you two are acquaintances. We'll come up with the verbiage at a later time."

Everyone was gathered towards the center of the business class, with Mark suffering the protagonist role against his better wishes. Jackson was leaning against the backrest of Mark's seat, assuming somewhat of a defensive stance to face their managers' alarmed looks. Their leader was having a private conversation with one of the managers to discuss the PR strategy, and Jinyoung was impassable.

"So you went in to break up with her, but you didn't," Bambam started. "I never expected you to, and you didn't. And I am very proud of that."

Jinyoung simply scoffed.

"Then he kissed her, you know? That was a statement. So what if they have these pictures? We're not 18 anymore to stalk for exes." Yugyeom continued, agreeing with the other.

Jackson shifted his position, towering taller over the backrest. "To be honest, I have complete faith in our fans. I strongly feel they would not judge nor belittle us. Sooner or later, it would have come out anyway."

Jinyoung kept silent.

"Jinyoung?" said Jackson. "Your silence is scary."

"You know what," Jinyoung retorted, sitting up from his chair. "I support you." Shushing the members with a finger. "I'm serious. Whatever you decide to do, I'm 100% behind you. If this makes you happy, I'm happy, even though I already said this. It's unanimous to say we're behind you in this."

After leaving everyone else with their mouths hanging open, Jinyoung returned to reading his book peacefully.

While Jaebum and their manager were returning from the far end of the isle, Mark was quietly thanking Jinyoung for his lead. As skeptical as Jinyoung was, he never had to be explicit about wishing the best for one another. As was everyone.

"Damn, I expected to come back to some tension in the air," Jaebum chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood. "We discussed an initial scenario to keep out allegations--"

"It's simple. I am going to say she's my girlfriend."

There was a collective mix of reactions, from cheering to shock to content, the group had it all. Ultimately, the leader stepped away, giving Jackson a well-deserved high five.

"Mark, it's not that simple." Their manager stepped up to drive the conversation forward. "You have to give a careful statement."

Mark acknowledged his words. "And my careful statement would be that she is my girlfriend. We can use whatever formulation you think would be best, with this main idea in mind."

"Okay, let's assume for a moment we are doing that. What statement will she give about those pictures, with a considerable variety of men?"

In the heat of the moment, Mark opened his mouth to counter his manager's arguments in advance and understood that he ultimately had no arguments himself. Jonathan, he knew about. It was evident that something had happened in their past together, and the blonde hadn't managed to grow over his feelings for her. Then there was Henry.

Any statement would have meant throwing them under the bus. If there was anything Mark learned about Samantha was that she wouldn't throw people under the bus for her sake. No matter who it was.

"Let's work on something that would not defame anyone involved."

The conclusion of their conversation was left up for grabs. As everyone was scattered around to their own businesses, be it playing, reading, or simply chattering around, Mark changed seats to meet Jinyoung. He noticed Mark with the corner of his eye and put the book he was reading to the side.

"Thank you," stated Mark simply. "Means a lot, having my back."

"I was sincere with what I said. Even if I didn't always agree with what was going on. I reminded myself that you wouldn't go through all of this if it wasn't worth it."

Mark chuckled.

"Do you love her?"

"I do." nodded Mark and brought one knee closer to his chest to lean against. "I love her."

"Does she love you?"

"I think so, yes."

Jinyoung picked up his book and finally displayed a pleased smile.

"Good for you."

Later that night, Samantha entered an emergency surgery to deliver a pair of twins. Hands were moving on autopilot while mind was racing at an unthinkable speed. How she coordinated the medical team to a tee, even when feeling so tense, only added to her tension. When the surgery finally came to an end, Samantha left the operating room hurriedly, heading for her private office. The entire picture came tumbling down.

Mark was a celebrity, a public figure. What did she think was going to happen? Did she think she would have a soft pass? A hail Mary? And what if she had a Hail Mary? Would she have been better off with it?

Hard no everywhere.

Samantha sighed. Suddenly, all those frozen moments in digital representations came to life vividly. When Changwook lifted her up against the bar counter in a fervid kiss, the intoxication of gin and vodka was still muddling the air. Shortly after Samantha came to Korea, evading and hiding away from the humiliation and despair Henry put her through, her cousin's club allured her into a sweet fantasy. Drink pouring after drink after dance after faceless men—she never knew Changwook was working there at that time. A tall, handsome, foreign male who was there at the right place, wrong time. She was destined to face an uncomfortable situation during her first shift at said club.

Another dirty case of memory was the exotic vacation with Henry in the tropical islands, enjoying the sun and the love. Samantha felt still the warmth of turquoise waters sliding through her fingers and the elusive touches of a man she once knew. She laughed at the prospect of a time so far in existence that it lost all meaning to matter.

And Jonathan, oh him. In the exceptional that never happened, there was a golden smile with champagne hair and meadow eyes.

"Hey." A faint knock echoed, revealing Leena's figure. "I came to ask if you're okay."

Samantha shrugged her shoulders with a defeated smile. "As okay as I can be, I guess."

Leena seated herself to Samantha's right. "There's a half-full part of the glass always. Congrats for you and Mark!"

Despite Leena's attempt to bring a note of optimism, the other's face was troubled. "I know you saw the pictures, Leena. I have so many things to account for," Samantha turned her face to her friend. "To you, too."

"I know Jonathan loves you".

Samantha cusped her hands together.

"I also know how hard he's working to accept it. There's a quote I read somewhere; that the one thing we can control is how to love someone, not what they do with the love we give to them. I don't think there's something that better describes John".

She nodded, then continued. John, she thought. He's a different man to her than he was to me.

"You must be thinking you made me feel like the second woman. Sometimes, I do, other times I don't. Someday he'll accept the answer. I don't think he loves you the way he loves me, and I know for a fact he does love me".

"I think so too, saying it out loud just makes me feel like an asshole".

Leena chuckled. "I can say it for you if you want".

And Samantha gestured for her to go ahead. If you don't rip the bandaid, you never allow the wound to heal.

"You hurt his feelings and his ego when you chose Henry over him," Leena caught the shimmer of surprise in the other's eyes. "It's true that I only know his half of the story. He always thought you'd be his college sweetheart".

"Did he say this to you?"

"Oh, he did. We had plenty of heart-to-hearts lately. Even though I was inclined to say Henry triggered his actions, I now know it was Mark who did".

In the exceptional that was happening, there was a radiant smile with copper hair and amber eyes.

"He told me you have a bet but didn't tell me what that was. Said it's your story to tell".

"Since Jo wanted a two-people dare, two-people dare it is!" one of the boys in the group cheered, raising a toast with another shot of tequila in the air. "What's the dare, Jo?"

"The first card we flip will give a striptease dance to the next card!"

Another loud cheer reverberated through the room. Between a dozen eager, tipsy young adults, such vulgar propositions made them ecstatic. Amongst them, a younger Samantha, accompanied by Jonathan, Henry, and Jo, the four were in their feelings. A long midterm and a good drink would do that to them.

"Flip the cards!"

Samantha seemed to be less enthusiastic when her queen of cards showed up chaperoned by Jonathan's king of spades. It wasn't long before short hoots and whistles echoed in the fraternity room and quickly dissipated in the rowdy atmosphere.

Among the group, there was no secret Samantha was regarded as a high-value prize, even in their larger sophomore-year group. In a smaller setting, both Henry and Jonathan were chasing the same woman. Jonathan transferred at the beginning of that year and had no major trouble integrating into the group, notably having a larger affinity for Samantha. Henry was a year older than the group and met the same girl via their shared sports club, in which Samantha was the captain of the volleyball club.

Jonathan had the opportunity to score a much more definite chance than his opponent. He sealed his eyes with Samantha's, who, for the first time took a drawn-out look at the blonde counterpart.

"I'm down if you're down," Jonathan dragged out, slowly peeling off the floor.

"Come on Sam, you're no coward, are you?" Jo taunted, watching the scene with a lot of interest. Samantha untied her hair from the bun she was wearing, messy hair outlining her face. As the latter prepared another shot of tequila to strengthen herself, Jo gestured for everyone else to get lost on the dance floor. Henry rose reluctantly, even as he easily found another girl to occupy himself with, his eyes were earnestly watching Samantha.

With just the two of them left in crumbles of intimacy under piercing eyes, Jonathan stepped closer to Samantha, bursting out in a torrent of chuckles, dubbed by the woman's own giggles.

She smiled an alluring smile that captured a string of Jonathan's heart, "What are we even doing?"

"I believe I am supposed to be dangling my ass on you or something like that," she replied, taking Jonathan by the hand and dragging him to the dancefloor. The man followed her lead, a smirk growing larger on his features.

"If you don't want to do this, you don't have to. I don't want to force you into anything," Jonathan completed, allowing Samantha to get closer to him, her back pressing into his chest. He understood her message and rested his hands on her upper hips.

"I appreciate myself a respectful guy," She leaned her head against his shoulder, extending her torso to speak into his ear to counter the loud music, "You don't have to be respectful now".

Just as Samantha started curling her body, Jonathan felt the alcohol in his veins mix up with the unorthodox desire to lower his hands. "Even with all these eyes watching us?"

A small pause until Samantha turned around to face Jonathan, one hand pushing into his chest. Her eyes harvested a cunning feline glance. "Let them".

Jonathan reached closer to the woman, noses brushing against one another before Jonathan whispered in her ear, "I'd rather watch you on my own".

Samantha circled her arms around his neck, head tilting back in intimate laughter. Henry felt his own blood boiling at the passionate scenery. "If you planned to turn me on, you're successful".

Jonathan reciprocated her laughter. "You're giving me a boner, might as well do something to turn you on". He brought her closer to his chest, opting to take her lead. He would have devoured her laughter with his lips if it was for him, including Samantha adding to the friction between their bodies.

"Perhaps we could continue our conversation in a more private setting," suggested Jonathan, wrapping his arm around her waist to guide her through the crowd to a separate part of the building, where he had the key to his room. Jonathan's chamber was tidy and bright, all his belongings put in their respective place.

"It feels like you premeditated this" teased Samantha, her finger tracing the cover of a John Steinbeck classic.

Jonathan closed the door behind them, turning the key into the lock. The way he knew all their friends, an unpleasant surprise could have happened at any time. Maybe if his mind was a little more sober, he would have remembered Jo was especially keen on a threesome.

"Not even close. Believe me, I never fathomed I would lock myself up with you here when this night started."

Samantha chuckled. "You're not drunk enough if you're using such fancy words".

"I'm not drunk enough to commit to ripping your clothes off right now".

Jonathan drew closer to the girl, taking his time to admire the rose hue in her cheeks. Even so, her smile only suggested she'd grown more bashful.

"Why not?" she challenged. "Are you a virgin?"

Jonathan laughed. "I'm not. I just don't picture myself as a brute," as Samantha laughed, he lifted up her left hand to place a kiss on the inside of her wrist. "Are you?"

She shook her head, gliding her hand to Jonathan's nape. Blonde strands of hair felt silky against her fingertips and a sigh departed from her lips. "I'm just hesitant".

"Tell me why. Maybe I could ease your mind".

Using his other arm, Jonathan traced a faint line with the back of his hand on the skin of her neck, leaving agonizing shivers in his wake. Met with no objections, he slid his fingers under the red material of her sweatshirt to feel the goosebumps on her collarbone. The man kept to himself the indisputable fact that Samantha was not wearing any top piece of lingerie.

Samantha was closing the distance between their bodies with her right hand playing at the rim of Jonathan's jeans. She deliberately attached her pelvis to Jonathan's, fully enjoying the appetite of their height difference.

"My humble experience tells me pretty boys like you are not ready to be personal with one girl only".

"I was ready since I first laid eyes on you".

The girl scoffed. In a swift motion, she unpeeled herself from Jonathan to undress herself from the annoying sweater. Samantha was admittedly impressed that Jonathan's eyes never went lower from her eyes, even if the boner he courageously pointed out was still there.

"Don't know if you're sincere or just stubborn," she completed, encircling her arms around his neck once more. Jonathan inhaled a sharp breath at the smell of her skin and simply adored the sheepish pretend look in her eyes while her visage communicated anything but.

It was clear as day that Samantha was offering herself up on a silver platter while testing his guts, knowing it could slide away any second. Perhaps that was the moment Jonathan fell for her.

"Tell you what," countered Jonathan, broad hands gripping the small of her back. The muscles twitched under his touch. "Let's make a bet".

"Oh? What do you have in mind, Jonathan?"

There was something so obscene in the way she breathed his name that it took all his might to oppose the raw longing to consume her lips. Instead, he imprisoned the back of her head with a sensual flicker of hand and protected her lower back with his other. He took her approving moan as stimuli to move forward with his proposition.

"I will not kiss you until you decide to kiss me. And when you finally will, I will date you with the intention of marrying you".

"That's stupid, playing out Pretty Woman like this" she laughed while unbuckling his belt. Jonathan restrained her movements, forcing her eyes to look at him.

"I'm serious. I will show you that us having sex now will not stop me from winning you".

"What makes you so sure you are going to win me over?"

Jonathan picked her swiftly off the ground in his arms and forced Samantha to circle her legs around his waist. He seated himself on top of her in the softness of the bed, his physique towering protectively over her.

"On the one hand, you didn't deny we are going to have sex now".

Jonathan threw his own T-shirt somewhere in the corner of the room.

"On the other hand, I'm sure I am not like the other boys who were in your life".

Samantha watched his every action with awe and a rapid beating in her chest. As much as she offered herself to him, he proudly accepted her with the freedom of her actions. She suddenly felt shy and angled her face away from him. Jonathan noticed and lowered his head to mildly bite into her neck. "Don't play coy with me now, Sam. Are you accepting this bet? Tell me before I undo your jeans because I don't know if I'll let you go after that".

"Up until recently, it had been the best sex of my life," settled Samantha through short melancholic nods of the head.

Leena smiled, accepting the intricate past between Samantha and Jonathan as it was. "Then why let him go? Why choose Henry over him?"

"In the mirage of youth, most of us tend to fall to illusions. Henry spoke fairer and almost always told me what I needed to hear. He never was unfaithful to me nor treated himself with too much superiority. If you ask me now, I don't know the answer to that. Jonathan was, is, more raw. I didn't know how to treat such a man before, even if I knew in my heart he never let me go entirely. He dated other girls while we were in college, he and Jo had a good thing going on for a while. At some point, she told me there was a 1% of him with one foot out".

"Because of you," Leena followed, and it was her turn to lower her eyes and aim them at her hands.

"Because of me. Gosh, I feel like a whore now, but I wanted you to have the full picture".

Leena picked up the remorse in Samantha's voice. Beyond that, she was thankful. "To tell you the truth, John had already told me this. I lied".

Samantha laughed as if the entire pressure on her heart just dissipated. She suspected as such yet felt the need to leave the past in the past and the tension out of her chest. Leena was a good one in all she did, and most of what she did recently to support Samantha through the tumult of past days. "You needed your confirmation, I know. I would have done the same".

Leena wrapped her arms around Samantha, and the both of them let out a weighty sigh. "I will forever be grateful for what Jonathan did for me, and part of me will always love him like a close confidant. We both know our train left the station long ago. I just hope he's not stupid while your train is still here".

"Between you and I," Leena said, "I sure as hell hope he's not. I saw him in sweatpants a couple of days ago, and girl, let me tell you a thing or two".

The atmosphere eased into laughter, and Samantha hugged the other woman tighter. "I'm so lucky to have you, Leena".

In the pocket of her doctor's coat, Samantha's phone started vibrating. The two girls pulled away, and Leena stood up when she noticed Mark's name on the luminous screen.

"Hey princess, is this a good time?"

There was static noise combined with loud background music on Mark's end of the line. He must have been in the concert venue. It took her aback to listen to Mark's voice so calm and so certain when speaking to her. Like the world was their cradle and nothing else mattered in the world.

"Hey Mark. Yes, I just got out of surgery. I brought twins into this world today".

Samantha felt the remnants of the smile Mark was wearing on the other end of the line. "That's amazing, you're amazing, love. I'm sure the parents must be very happy."

Love. Undoubtedly, that was the first time he ever called her that. An abrupt avalanche of the past day's memories collapsed over Samantha, the blending of agony over ecstasy over fear, of belated forgiveness and let-go's. Somehow, Mark rose above everything, wearing his radiant smile. With love.

After a short pause, his voice echoed as if it transcended from a faraway land, "How are you holding up?"

"It's a lot," confessed Samantha. "I don't know how I led the medical team in the OR. My head was spinning with everything going on."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"What could you possibly be sorry for, Mark?"

"I'm sorry for not protecting you the way you needed me to."

It was the same sensation she lived the very first time they shared a smile, the bed, and their intimacy. He carried the same striking transparency, that of a glass shining in the bleak midwinter when the sole beam of sunshine found that one last refuge. Come to think of it, most of their visceral conversations happened on a phone line. A hundred times easier to hide the unseen through the deceit of the voice when the eyes cannot find the sensitivity of the soul and the arms cannot hug away the uncertainty.

What use was there to keep on lying when the mask fell and shattered into a million pieces?

"I'm sorry for daring to give up on you. I'm sorry for being selfish and for putting myself first. There are so many things I wish I told you tonight, Sam."

"You haven't lost me, dearest. Not tonight."

The echo of an exhale could be heard on the other end of the line.

"When the news breaks out, I want to make a statement. And I will tell them you are my girlfriend".

Samantha's shock could be palpable through the phone call. "What? I mean, shouldn't you not associate yourself with me? Won't that ruin your image?"

Mark inhaled a great amount of air before replying. "I plan to make you forget about that ex. In truth, I loved the idea of you overthinking all your texts. And I wanted all your neighbors to hear you yell when we make love. I don’t want it to be a problem when we come together. And I don’t want us a secret. This is the shittiest time to ask, but will you have me? Will you be my girlfriend?"

In retrospect, Samantha would have seen Mark's confession coming from a mile away. All the possible hints he could have dropped, he did. In the little time they spend together, hurriedly, sneakily, and intensively, Mark changed her world the very first time they crossed paths. What Samantha grew to nurture for him did not carry a name but still felt like a Mediterranean breeze caressing the surface of the ocean, akin to the warmth of the summer morning.

"Yes, I will be your girlfriend," Samantha smiled and instinctively touched the back of her neck, where Mark's favorite spot to hold her was.

"Good. Good. I can totally make that statement now," he laughed, and her heart eased into his serenity. "We have a lot to tell each other I think, when I'm back".

"We do, we do indeed. I talked to Leena today, about Jonathan".

"Oh? And? Are they going out now, as they should?"

She snickered. "They had an obstacle until now. Me."

"Oh, I know. Figured as much."

"How did you--?"

Before she had the chance to continue, Mark interfered. "I am a man, Sam. And not a blind one at that. Is he better in bed than me? Wait actually, don't answer that."

They both laughed.

"Out of the kindness of my heart, I'll let you know he is not".

"Ah, I figured as much 'cause I refused to tell him when he asked. I kinda got the gist back then. But now, seriously, what's in the past is in the past. What matters now is that you are in my present, and I hope in my future, too".

"We can't know that, Mark."

"I know. I know you don't like all these plotted plans. I'll work as hard as I need to make us work. To give you what you need. If we're meant to be, we'll be, but I don't want to regret never trying."

The moon was lurking out into the dusk, leaving traces of stars in its wake. In his words, Samantha heard what Mark whispered at their parting.

I love you too.

In the barren parking lot of the SMP hospital, the hazy contours of two motorcycles still governed the vast space. A well-known silhouette of a man stood amongst the night shadows, casting tamed lights from the clicking and unclicking of a zipper lighter.

"Thought you would have rushed home after today, Johnatan."

"What about you, then?" a smirk appeared in the corner of the man's mouth. "I am in no position to add to your future scandal right now."

Samantha laughed loudly. "Why wait for me, then? Go on, get lost."

The loud click of the zipper captured the woman's attention. "Figured that if we're raising a storm, might as well ride the waves."

"That we are, my friend."

Samantha dropped her bag next to the motorcycle to take out her biking gear. Jonathan put on his protective helmet, as he was already equipped for the ride.

"Jo called me today."

"Really? How is she doing?" chirped the woman, happy to hear any news about their old friend.

Jonathan kicked off his engine. "Follow me to find out more."

Samantha heeded the invitation and rode out to follow Jonathan soon after he departed from the parking lot. The autumn air welcomed a gust that brushed against open neck skin. Jonathan's riding style had always been elegant but rushed, comparable to its owner - it always reminded Samantha of those blurry colored lines in the Hollywood movies when the night traffic melted under the car lights. She smiled even if Jonathan didn't know; he was made of Hollywood material.

Following a short period on the offroad roads of the suburbs, Jonathan led Samantha up a hill, which enclosed a good part of the city and led to the unwinding of the imagination. Summer heat was still present in the air as if making its last stand against the autumnal chill. Samantha followed Jonathan's figure and left her motorcycle next to his under a tree. He seated himself on a patch of grass, giving the woman a helping hand to follow.

"Okay, so, Jo," Samantha continued as she crossed her legs next to Jonathan. "What's up?"

"She said she's flying out to Seoul in two weeks' time; she has some long-term project here as creative director for some big initiative, I couldn't remember the names she told me. I gave her your phone number 'cause she didn't have it, and she said she bought two front-row tickets for the Got7 final concert here."

Samantha nodded her head. If Jo had called her during any other time, she would have taken the ticket in a heartbeat. She was not so sure she would anymore.

"Assuming she was not asking me to come with her and that you are not scared to go, that ticket was too expensive to pass."

"I don't know, Jonathan. Last thing I want is to be sliced to death during a Got7 concert because I had men in my life before Mark."

"Auch," he joked, and Samantha turned to him apologetically.

"I didn't mean it like that."

Jonathan's eyes were focused on the veil of darkness over the city. "This was the first place we rode to when we transferred here, do you remember? I thought I'd kiss you here back then."

Samantha followed his eyes into the far away. "I do. You led me here then, just as you did now."

"I don't think we should come here alone anymore."

She nodded her head once more. "We shouldn't."

"I told Leena we had sex."

"I know."

"News travels fast around these parts, huh?"

The both of them laughed energetically. Jonathan had the talent to make them feel as if they were sitting on the football pitch in college in the middle of the night, just the two of them.

"I still get the feeling I'm a whore. Especially to Leena."

Jonathan cocked an eyebrow. "If we have a whore, the grand prize is mine. Imagine how stupid this situation is. I was in love with my college friend who hung me out to dry and still pinned for her while having eyes for another."

"Pretty boy traits--"

It hit her then that Jonathan spoke in past tense. That must have been the finish line, which delayed its bitter-sweet arrival. Indeed, it felt like a crystal key fell from a drawer to shatter into nothingness. Only the golden string remained.

"You hit the jackpot with Leena."

"Crazy part is that I knew. I allowed myself to hurt my ego in the same fucking situation, albeit I knew the consequences from the beginning this time. And she waited, Sam. She waited. The way Jackson flirted with her, I thought I would kick the bucket again."

Samantha looked at Jonathan, at how the moonlight lit up his face. She smiled again, knowing he finally found peace with her choices. "I don't know how to give you closure, Johnny."

He tilted his head towards her direction, with a condescending sneer. "I think I got it when I convinced myself you are in good hands now. And knowing I was always better than Henry the dickhead."

"Indeed you were. You are in good hands now, too. We can let each other go."

"You know I'm not dying or whatever. I'll still be here to break Mark's neck if he hurts you and make it look like he failed in surgery."

Samantha leaned her head against his shoulder and Jonathan shifted his position to make her more comfortable. "No punches will be needed this time. If we break up, it's on me."

A furious torrent of beeping and fervent phone vibrations interrupted the content silence between the two. Samantha took out her phone to witness the shocking headlines of Got7's Mark's mysterious alleged girlfriend.

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