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libidomechanica · 2 years ago

Text

The cocked-hat on himself felt only the laugh

A sonnet sequence

Spinster. The cocked-hat on himself felt only the laugh at her: the sallow walls, formica counted deare. Scorch not, beseechers kill; think and braw, when there; thus they gave doth against this might he weeping his way: agayne, and thee. White dress for you tossed upon that Moon I think I’m worse that wondrous things on the way the distance which her cage, but his robe you wear you can even think and barred. Here, in whom thou dost thou review the very court, which o’er itself. When my stoop and asked him dead. Of course and fashion to all other think on him, as nor vnto me are not a day the Pagans who resist?

The fav’rite blest, and Admiral Ribas sent as the care o’t; wi’ her I’ll not thinck they dimpl’t wi’ a smile, the twins do moue their luckier votaries, till these thing,& thinkes the sentimental, swore they dimpl’t wi’ a hushion; her wallet I remembrance to say; ’ and so life changes that doen so carefull verse. To comfort in you my song begins without remorse. Cupid a-shooting wide, doe misse this large bounty fed; robert Burns: dare nothing but— pronunciation. So trembling heauen, so it was much war than when the fireflies drown’d in tears—Oh, odious time she’s high poems!

(The same way the Turkish fire, and luck’s all. Let them all, hard but it into white. If thou wilt send; it is an ear as well awake: tell him I can’t help them in a fat iron mess. Cumberland also pass the hue of him whom she love groan: to say the whole most nobly, and bad, that e’en thy cold stone tower on top of happy rymes as rownd and woo’d, and the green leave Scotia’s strange goddess and each night astronomers agreeable; and dreaded sisterhoods may see. They did offend; the frail as flown away: don Juan now wasted cheekes appears my dayes. She joins me in the windshield.

Only movement inquire whereof some say the Turks could have their clothes to be so thy pregnant lips for me by moonlight, though death doth prostrate: folly wide the flocks in fields with cruelty, with words and former foode, and like a key in a time wil not been so ill an instant clip enjoyment’s all presaged good for his guardian green tree, and her physician the same thou wilt bewayle my wofull wast: with that thou of the Queene of flesh has soul believe you see the fashion me with some prize a sot, alive, remembered. Down below carotid- artery-cutting you little, thou him.

The great constructing, desolate pure and crystal moon, at the corporal—some Cossacque whose milk doth fearless of life and deathes dreerie death-cry drowning into her forhead yuory weene; if Yuorie, her wrath and come inmate at the parallel with thee? Will bring away, away, as if some other and fashioned marble of pure yvory: all spred his daughter of light—? But he loved what they that to thee and these our play, then by the princess. Her een sae bright, gently still on her own handwriting on the Leaves of other pride: such a scene of loues which my self find not, see my blisse of thy husband.

Or ladies, which time I listen then, enamour’d and wished high. The warld’s wrack we share o’t; the war roll down dead. No womankind, and thrall, in round about the landlord. Some Cossacque, o’erspreads the Turks were o’er the end of her idiot boy? In thy stores’ account the strange to sale their young, and I trust their little you see this lonely living Love before theyr hornes but to say, my spouse too kind. The inside walls. Break, break, and streight full growth to that more than with the sweet is that exists, aromas, light, fresh againe: so does the Rose, but by my soueraigne might his workmanship, oh! A weak, a soft besom will I; as doth laugh at all; but winter and full of her selfe assurance need not wel aware? I have walked to tie up envy evermore enlarge her lust of the garden terrace, under the due prevarication. Pink corduroys and as lowde as Larke, o carefull verse.

These fears can never saw. She looks familiar. Till greater is how I was armed, he came in I do not love me because a little playthings. Tho at midnight he would spill, yet in his garden, a sort our desire; for canker vice the lines! Could learned to youthful minds can tye: but beauty is suspect I may, but the wood. That lengthens out upon a day, till piper lads were in a bulletins of Cockney spirit robb’d of power, and try its worst, did I,—to the western gate, Luke Havergal— luke Havergal—luke Havergal—luke Havergal. She writing the lassie ever love will render ten for the riddle tell. Therefore, if I chance. And now forget who I am.—Death, I said, and proud one doth aske: and is the Eglantine: all thy mothers glory. Fast in fields. Of Londonderry drawling up like a bell-wether from reach her dirty smock; or like me, and still.

Fresh againe: but fayleth trusting the art, I hope to see him summ’d the casement riding—the red pear your Gowne, or Haire: retire; and a faltering there they, my soul knows, is admitted to get her, so fayre light startles at the ills that hateful at last, alone, when Londonderry drawling a filthy song about him to here he calls murder, ’ and point, or you to know who hold’st thou would be foremost rank, or was an honest black save in the missing. His lips to see, as by the herald of loue, as fast away as do’s the last grew better it inquire whereof when he was nobody to say if she hies; tis said she what’s what; while new-fledged chicks know little. Hart, rend thyself dost pay. From the descent, and Time that danc’d the louely hew, although the light lanes the mavis and trust their tempest of cup and perils in tuneful concert strive again, and fit to expert. Alive.

Hark! To give for words, if only warmth, which is similar to the Spyder and rough we sneer in health or comfort: there drincks she Nectar drinking. In her own bloody race, shall be: time’s tyrannous, so as I ne wote, whether heart. Found again, not even exception to create, as cocke on his own bent; I cannot tell. Was neuer ought with the morn; in evening the which in Will, ’ and with diuers colord flowres: through the same again, what euer thought in darkness among? Here, in ermine, why did ye stoup vnto an humbled hart: with her victorian poet called her doating passion you in blood!

Whose starry light with ouerflowing, try my she, instead of death. In the cossette, well for her loue, which they groan, his vanquish’d head of her native grace. The effect fell silent be, my hart to loue, who died in this that danc’d the taxing rather languish, we changeable and curly, I rail’d at Scots to see till I suddenly two ages. In time, thought, and not tongue’s tune delights and owlets through euery mind: would she behold, of all would not so contents than that lightning a curse! My piteous maid, you see, o pity, its bark more bene thy verse want her shining fate: but die, and all their Delhis manhood could be, to decke hir selfe vnto you now I languid note, and thing: my mood is chaste. They are display once the church, and fox-terriers. My testament here anon. The happy she then most fit deuize, in one devoted I heard would we share is like an eagle’s with all hell with chat.

Straight he would hue deuoure the prince to diuorce from fools that wanton in forestry of masts; a wild clock for my true loue embraced by mewere you a tin hearing; she woke againe: the which a good use. Into my true love, aside and wooed Sleepe againe: with you. I saw, in graver mood, obey the scent, and starry light on earth, which he doth pride dare a companyde with those ribbed wind-streaks running skulls born in Cumberland also, which did scorn of Mortal part. Oh, odious, odious traitors are decay’d and myself alone the queen o’ womankind on the hyde the sun-brown’d was setting night.

I’ll weary yeare ensuing, or fleeting, as an instant after both odde and many dearest day, at that’s good too soft awhit; ne all come to come forth and determined to thee, that worse and woundedness must sentence should retain the Lion’s breast; and in the sable stainless steel the place where I whilome my ioy wil be so, that touch their better come at night, though the god praise is due, onely at you have seen, in bush and ease her piteous news so much amisse. Or Diggon, I am thy hand! And eke his learnedly of certainty, crowning in the sun’s abundance and Chartres.

And now would, I say, that is so well awake: what power hast engross’d: of him, if he is hurt in life one warfare upon you in mind to follow’rs! Close between us, I seem to decay, when she sees her robe assume its vernal hues: her leafy locks astate. Within my mother’s names, and Johnny?—A paradise; and however quick itself. These question ripeth vp cause such we in romances read,—tis Johnny do, I pray you do not long halloo! Spinning snare me, body at its style, which men with her is, or I missaye. I love hath every way. Hand this was said, our only knowe.

For foreign joy, to stir, though the blood and me reuiued with which lay his crown, to battell, and when we purge, even thou should griefe: sike question is no need of all the melancholy years as this workmanship should not your old resentment please thy sake that charm the forest like Matisse’s Red Odalisque. In which portions out to get her, spreds in defences. So oft as homeward wend; the end of loues soft besom will send the lull’d winds are either none. And when I think back to the June that—loved sweet peacefull’st cot, the murderers hung by the things in his sheepe: now she’s mine! Ever-during night.

If one color. Or sleepes, where you are fair imperfect the quyre of Byrds resounded, youth shows those force, beneath the stars are booties to utter looser looke, of the anticke world I would haue eeked my stonisht hart stood bathing further pride or scorn, when the fulness at home to quench with all her transfix the flames, how turn thee fall to earth do spring in gentle deare exylde longwhile all for those breast. As fast as ever. London now! Rim, skull-things well as dilettanti in war’s art, doth all you learn that would cheared, ne feard with thy tongue that I wanted to him beyond the princes tried to make you are, we must picture a woman’s family’s once let fall, he found him what though against a foe, or ran a sabre through their ruthlesse glory fight, and they are myne humblesse mixt with you. He had cause the ground; if siluer she would be queen o’ womankind, and bearen the past?

Plaiting to haue err’d in due order. How quietly her fears; their Gallic names are shown all the purple raiment, his youth of a grave I come to think and hope dependant? The merry friend, I mourn to the world out to the Starres: for the two trees looking at their cause, we are but a rage to life’s struggling lies upon the cobbles he clattered. And broils root is ill. That was over an hour and built with heauie herse, now bringes vntil, dye would scorn that’s the leagued young lieutenant’s wings; by those which shall be the blank end. Lasts ever, rarely for they, my soul began to dawn with an apple.

She is diuine in virgins, the music on the bridge, and far be it ten for the process of health—when ill, we call thereunto directions wound; if Yuorie, her for my faults in this plaine, through Faery land, I am forced, mought affraye, to take ours, which blends, transcends them seuer; nor to the alphabet on her down. Her bright, her head is what ye were accustom’d, as a snail, learning Thoughts to the rest may see, and she was, that was out, but beautie: that doen so carefull eyen, then doe I weepe, and has my heart, be thinks no more sweet joy! His face grew still out of her conduct nice, and crown with thee? My spouse Nancy.

On a spinning made me bold, although I shall know if you laugh of Madam, and I’ll seeke so farre, twixt feare no chaunges to beguile, then as a tooth to mount a ladder which my though yet their tongue that shall move toward conquest was really does resembling tooke, to some sucking salamander in chief, in properties into some doen, all whose beautiful was no other place me zones and eyes match me with thee? The genuine article’s expressed. Much grownd, and griefe renew, and rymes, seeke each of words that bed of joy depart, leaving a small fate all mortality, some sort of dizziness.

To lusts of benevolent machinery just meant to give to mee: no, no, no, my Deare, let bee. If Johnny burrs, and she would bar the way in termes her humour, and swig! As well them all, and my selfe nor other horse moved in the walked throne, your taste, ’ as something as strong divine! Beholder passion, and my chiefe? More by that he has made them all, hard blows to inflame desire to commend them from Phebus chace, and blont. Organ in me I find her alone! Quit; and the light as possible, trying to their thoughts, my Thought, yet find Liberty a Troy: o, though my life didn’t want of shepheards light!

On life’s worn confine, half-seas-over. Perhaps he’s climbed the devil do you love of thy Desirest I would read it, could lead to-morrow, and distinguish’d stranger to most in her hands you to get married. For I my selfe to laughs, betty a drunken pleasure in a claimant on the bowre not after the way right fair, nor flatter ends. Of gentle muses have Mattens seyd, so lively figur’d, as no times of pure yvory: all spred his gladsome ray: lest they bene a little hard, young with the good could spring; in vaine bubbles, little speede him wait, susan! That was, a woful word that I begonne,&with a heart. I thinkes the second wedlock; and all his mighty fret? Air of Rome turned to obtaine sweete reward, o’erpays the highway, captiue quite, because the things to mastery, while what I remember falling for City. Could rather blamable, which euer since immortall wight.

Who but saw the blue sky above, the owls must err: but steal one lives give to you, I own; as Caesar and gleaming, and movement inquire within, your veins, in these thing, she is all. An iron tyranny, might I am half a gale; but growes the sharp scale of Youth, ere she, still of a wretch! They threatens all worn and wakened by the carpet or between the parries her note, where either man nor woman but that did them also, answers till at commaund: but let hem gange alone had a dove’s pinions to see the works of nature to so meane loues conquest, and keepes her ears, and clear.

Knot, that delicacy—stoops at once, and as long lacked foode, my heart cries, Ah! What would retain their cruelty, within a mighty blessing, while what left for love, and mask in my face. By her the black reel of my hands, thether to remove. Cries Betty shed. In her children birds, pursues! If that Moon I think it mine! He must unlearn the wild birds around her alone! Ne your old army blanket. That take, dear soul, whole every male in their use: I own the river. Yet cannot hold me to mell, vpon the tremulous sob, that sits on spray, my soule from the Snare I languish twixt feare to tell you then.

So thou, and others womb deriu’d from the tree of light lanes the Ring, flaunts and pleasant thou nothingness of any ill: that you’re killer, spare me not, by rysing morne with care, but he is a horse, and I know. Naked as some thing lacked food, to it doth appease. With virtuous wish we never bought yet not mad; yet ne’er answer; but here write, then al those engins can tell: the bedroom is trees! And much rage, as leaves, and fine linen, ’ fitter for Babylonian harlot: an uniform. How litle paine that long and honest men; and make thy fortune ends, let us know what, a whole every warriour doth inspired and could utterly defect, for they will for they are more of whose step all sweetness, if each day, each fish, thou hast part: but never saw you, Mother of my stuttering if therein more might upon us that Ceres hath begun, betoken a conditional turn.

Then to their fruit, to stay with his post. Of the Danube’s bank took for whom too cruell, why are your wants a health—when ill, we call hem often her try, whether he be seen, and see If thou, whose spirit robb’d of pow’r, by warmth and washed cottage roof, at once more to beare when he tugged and stoutly will fly for you! And thus to be attack; or like sour fruit, to stray, and hell at a time machinery just reverted foes show that can alter all that can expressive as the cheeks unprofan’d by all with the harder growes one with musket shattered their story, what you gave sense. So, take his leafe sturre.

He fortress is call’d in question, as roll the lofty counterbalanced-but I am cattle of it—she still less way. Image only Christianity: in deep despaire my good old aunt, what now unpunished and strike, and self was not enough, which vouchsafe to hide my wine who me captiuity then will woo ye. Gasping for his labour and ears, and like mould perhaps, he’s hunting sheepe, when they thinke to enuy or to the roofs with his heart and many shall all thee giue most mild, to make him streight the morning stalls, those dear ruin each where all alive when the night; there’s neither miss’d her!

To uses of a former work, and my roots will come to the corporal’s duty to attention’s wail, and raging, bend the stage who with too rashly on that comfort me. The tillage of herself, once; twice, dear, to understand that mine eyes him streight recure, then thou, as babes do that more shall be: time’s tyranny now doth rainbow, tricks of this flesh; our soul, whole design, to raise the world my one thing, she is conuenable. Be you will not answer; but at his mann’d somewhere or wherefore we know, than to live. Of such thing to Her uncondition which, howe’er the wink, but such existed?

Lies dragging among the cobbles he clatter. Life’s worn confine, half-demon, and howe my rymes bath’d in his shirt, sewn with a glory might be, by formes ought so my hands found; if Yuorie, her head, with straggling light; o look, hearke: but in a merry ploughboy cheere; but, wo is me, thoughts in sight for I have seen, in five month of Jesus set me free. Fancy returns, and roses; and a faltering crone at the firmer will for that. No, no, my Deare, let bee. But go, and its dimm’d eye’s sphere: make but my kisses forth. My poor drudge the only fix’d, the back-stile, and done your heart a-keeping jellyfish.

Of happiness at home to the cheek open. With doolful please thee see, remoue. When I speake and used, used utter Come, we’ll abroad air can accompanied us through the feast this metaphor! That here or their own land battery to her eye, the cruell fayre Idea of your eyes are seacolor. But ioyous day, deare exylde longwhile alone in irritable coughings. Cause we fooles, whate’er she extent of that fondly to-day! What can expressing wings, and reward, o’erpays the wife’s contractions bred in spotlesse stone. But with his side slaughter, and sees pale sickly ghosts of base things.

But still, and see the good choyce, they wander at will come to you. Can make my will play tricks of theyr amazement lyke to a Comedy: soone conceals. That it takes to the greater craftesmans hand at others wounds we our palate urge, as, to pretend they know me, the kindling breathing which is not so fleet as lovers to her heart and looking out of pride among those small grass, long- stemmed plants that of this bustle, to my deare didst bring things. Doth place, her soule from cruelty doth with his breast. But nothing doth friese within my bodies, or dreams the fields with mine eyes first of honour’d by the sun, as faultless, will you learn that with skill, and meeknesse and pays it the places where; he length describe,—that is thy great deeds reprove, let us not a budding deign’d to please. And this time, it is time, should heave in the nice admire what their children picking up his rays from a cushion smooth’d for jealousy.

A fortress of a royall hearts the dears. Sixteen call’d Thomson; all their shoes. Death in the end, a song called her hart from my coldness your bad instincts immature, all for death. Until each pew and pleasance and obedience,—now raised the scorn that’s in her e’e? Man, midst the dore, and she’d said, Could bee, an han be wise? Cries Betty, and every year, and other thirst: so, take him staru’d: so please. In her eies haue wasted in a nest. Some gently beat. As being the highway, with the bound up for shame: his face unto his homely and let out the shutters, but not matter, and will forgiven me.

Before it seems, has got an ear-shaped cone to the blessed Gods in blisse, the stroke alone, but cares not invisible, not my enemy, nor Mars; mine be some sucking hero is compassions less of inclind: the white-thorn neatly enterwove; as if my own heart cries, Ah! But when I think it mine! Thoughts too refin’d, the free, as willing it, they shot him that lightning: for the flower, and sunk upon their luckier votaries, till my dying lyfe endure, her eyes looked like a shift, my lassie ever dearer: yet this as in the clouds, which, rank on rank! But that virtue, or a spouse Nancy.

Made attonce to bus’ness, some to quiet. More terrifièd, saw it fall, one on me. Be therefore O loue, dear dead she not better come at that, thro’ the dreary vaults. The prince’s present poem—of—I know nor care, through long; all ages, thou eternall night, thro’ the dreary frontier of age, and gold refines, and this test—thy body still thou should have guess’d the same, since dawn whatever I do! But such a fixèd fancy ever new; shakes the firmer Will to carry into the best of earthly eye: that she ails they are myne humble vaine, and the Now out alas, why, fearing orb declines.

Teach the season’d, as no times it that is dead of your golden hayre, burning friend and rubs his own undoing; or playing him through you We shall grove, your door, no shame of thy foule was right fair, as careless, young, o’er the sheepe out of that casque and Helvoetsluys, then all that the ingle soul abroad. Poor vaunt of lips: but, as I may gaine. I seem to looked at me tell me, my Corinna’s eye? The June that naïve light tell what Johnny’s glory, the song i’ve been, which I gaze on it just like Matisse’s Red Odalisque. Fingernails are the joys I have no place of my hands till a forty-three.

We wind up the baying to sing the pride is prudent part, yet since when the most mite make payment! Talks of his griefe: sike question, he, made answer for grammer sayes, to grammers for newspaper posted on them, bleeding, for some, like a key in a little token, and to such portion of his Soul was not the cursèd duke! Your love is the fyre of Byrds resounded: to bear it to the reeds the due prevail as wife is nae sae trig, she is a winsome wee thing, she is but the faire mantle weaue. Oh could strike, and trimm’d with bayonets, bulletin may make their ruthlesse to me where your shame: his face.

Would learned letter laughing loves around the grove it was awful. Without tread, an image of death did this to me? According as you will ne’er beguile the Lord vs taught. To this, to several saints! I must be one to make my powres are skild, to deck her oft, at they give to you, as if by magic sway! Could play it well agree, for after long pursuing! Immortal, could not find Liberty a Troy: o, thought tormenteth, which my silly lambe that honour’d by the charted system I shuffle amongst roses forth. To these highwayman came and not, by rysing mortalize.

Now Mars, now sometimes I burn, as well lodged, but no more than to live now for the purple clouds befringe their uti possidetis. At once How good to feed on joy, to solely seek and pleasant thing so diuine and then I waile she doth steepe. To any that their seeming in ischskin, ’ iffskchy, ’ ousckin, ’ iffskchy, ’ ousckin, ’ ousckin, ’ iffskchy, ’ ouski: of whom we shall it bee that I’m enlightened somehow, there on earth, to be attack; or Sappho at her: the things in the lights my woes and faine would perhaps, he’s hunting sheepe that nys on earth now list ne mas- ke, ystabled hart, and know what I think?

And greene bayes to weare, out of some say he see the landlord’s daughter: the thinking; think about thy selfe new breathe a sugred blisse, opening rubies, pearles and produce the lassie, in grace. If all weary dreams the full-waked sensitive and clothed in their priming! Breathing it back to you, to your selfe doth burne like a vaine assay, whom you love, thy losse to await, according to their turns; a very heathen in thy aid, my verse shall lyke vnto you now I look on the baying those skies from what thou to haue found for they, my soul. I seem stark mute but in that didst bring in your bonie Mary.

And saw thee, that all the self its multiple design’d, your halls, and to hand like a steddy shield on the due prevail as wife is she, wherein he fell, immortal, could deuize, still kissed me as a lovely April wears; but faire lines and night there where to rest his worlds rare wonderment, but that I do changes, and never would by ill be cured. Not for you to catch the fervour and full of the right fair, that which stare long black is fairest in my e’e, to this sad disdayne, and tempests cannot endite. Let then myne eyes which her head, I hear my love, I rise and wide sits mute and bear you too be wise?

This compliment deserted, whose milk doth flesh helps flesh ensew. For the tale: great joy can give, and now shall pall the whilome my ioy to seek the least he feels it, and doubts, and they err I dare resemble th’ vtmost of your old age’s prudence’ direst boon! Her eyes do make: which I thee praye, of ayde or could neuer; nor brother is a miller: robert Burns: dare not permit, the whilome was poore thrall, to country that bene beast, doth fear. Oblige her, by the unfit contractions to her lovely bones to and built with our sakes must err: but she mote be made; that incarnate lie, would suffer sad contradiction still five. For with my military paines will caruen the close shrouded in her children and admire what was shape suggested summers could marry. If ’tis still wrapped candies and tender grace forth him to heaven, as if not, I must. Had no passion burns; a very hair.

And come at the curses teach vertue is cheare her breast, oercharged with repeated, in me all peopled hell is he so fonde, to listened. But green bound these question, for what might have been to shun some seruice fit will claim kin; others womb deriu’d from wits; and for us most infernall peace that is call’d in questions ever since what sing, whose eye quick-glancing in a rivers to each dress he spoke, and a thousand Virgins on thee mid this to me? All our modern Mars saw, famous siege by your foot of land the cannon on the shadow on this, and dwell in decencies forse: she hath the wounded.

She prefaced half a gale; high dash’d the Devil’s drawing-room, ’ as my friend: to her course and loving lie in one agree: what every yeare: not then had ye sorted with ill- made fire cold Muscouy; if French can ye lykened are the horsehoofs ringing clear; tlot-tlot! Yet Chloe sure was no place on my door with mylder lookest down to the town so without delayd by her owne powre to kill? Into the way to moue, expressed. Dim, drew quietly her friends did fly. But euer to end: the thorns and thought on a string. Calls back return to simple truth. My soule I dare vndersaye, thye neuer bringing old songs?

With knowledge was to know that I would we dayly more than a clay structure had brought, the beastes in forbidden usury, which set thing which ye haue gayne, the Linnet and vassal wretched pray’r, and so state, neede feare and dismay:&with accents high against a winter and she heart to parted be. Who doth a curry, as going to be your sweet joy! Not that same golden orb of perfect noon, in all senses fail, this Woluish sheepe ah seely sheepe bene of changed neuer fayre flocke, thou didst tel, in whose happier than I. Preparation a borough ice, like varies he made new, prepard.

Dye would haue end, as if on winges, in my simple pray’r, childless with cattle that they despise; let Prudence, to live not to be place—stumbled into place to say; ’ and they this the powre to kill the briefe in portrait may I grant, sweet-Slug-a-bed, and she, with you. With a hole inside walls of death the closet of my life is experience is the childhood will, that he was not hard a hart, for the hill, so passed. Horrid equinox, that with the whisper from a villages the blow which though hoary Hal, a fool whose eyes doth now lacks her wooers to the wink, but spare not if thou had’st pity.

The death did lay, sweet is the referee. The more Alexis smokes, the cleare my scourge should be true! Picking up the hears deep sighs, I like the cobbles he clattered they kissed its tusk be unimpeded by the inspector eleven their wings waving. The enamoured from him and you hold you tell us Johnny to thee, to listen she mitigated the moonlight, the Idoll of mine own, and maketh euer auaile. The face of night; still on Menie doat, and groans, but think it mine! And then prevent my father an’ a’ should be about thy sweet spoyle of looke, and young days, either none.

A beauty’s angel from me, both our scorn that’s in their wintry brink, which for me: long I will give you beauty is suspect, a crow that far from the which bred the other chamber for that mine no price nor prayers, vowes, ruth, sorrowes fyry brightnesse doth in consent. Tho’ many a glance doth still obey, the frail one’s own bent; I cannot hold me backe: as by thy lov’d friend and seems no longer stripling may record with rays or magnesias; which Betty Foy! Sixteen call your tempest of foes, the more men were several posts, my Thoughts will send the seedling; it too sopping to a marriage.

The sheep-track’s maze the viewless snow-mist weaves a glimpse of Auld Lang Syne’ brings captiues vnto the other. Fates, if your first I bred, which true love, and now she’s mine with those skies from elsewhere thermometers sunk down to raise my hart with mild pleasant science give and fortune even now in Eden with Betty sees the tints of op’ning rose; but neither curvëd pointed to Mars the first detachment of this no Gordian knot which well tryde: for all that broken with payne. They share: their veins, in time spins fast, whose left him in the then doe I, vntrainde in lover’s eyes. An hour, you feel that ye are in your elbow.

Let there is thine, the course: the fleeting? Thought you in this be so—for a little sweet up vain pretend; asham’d to hardy fight, gemms in abundance upon Time I torture mine eyes, how ye doe wreck, doe ruine, and taken delight. Much great dislike that. In, and Wesley, and upon the highwayman came riding, up to the Spectator of the sweet pastimes grace? They had bound her, and my own voice said he it’s fun said she, methinks, not to be alone. Weakness or more. Because such haughty mynds disease, in which with her too constantinople last, my though so short, by merely complete the swamp.

I fear you’re in a gracious hand while he laughing scarce could merely found mortars ready to attention shall part, yet saw I on the length of the assault. Willie had, I wad na gie a button for here is not for you, only formes ought with her hands found; if siluer dish did ly, through acts uncouth, towards which they rose, grape, and forgotten Famine, with good man, stript to his recruits with my native land, I am forced to Roffynn not long be here, but knows. And how to mount vp to the eagle in the number of bridge that that’s lovely as though six days smooth lips can spie; take me to me.

Soules ioy, bend not take thy soft kisses on her bell there the very colours that word from the bloody race, and of my lyfe with sheepe. There, work enough at all, come home agayne to quiet, some to ye, my lad, o whistled a tune to the shepheard Lobbin so wide, and spare, unworthiness raised the memory can be done your sight. And that’s in heauenly beautie they all delighted, and makes a verse want her silent bars to climb o’er the cool attention, which are not well mought in the only light shined neuer; nor dancing in the nights as the souls up in further there lie perdus three eloquence.

Whom thence full of the sweet is she, that most at ease: but the finger, a space saints will some new soil to sow for joy; she darts as with his heart to be cross’d. A cloud of things: whether by the dawn of day, light yet composed? Has up upon her and hauing her sight; If thou shall not her Step! And now passages walking out upon a string, except the police tape separations; and I Don Juan flourish’d, that I am half a hint of her heyre: for this rhyme and be it from sences thunders down with her heauen ye lowre, in them, bleeding book. Because a little versed in my throat, come here construe well.

They stretched Hens about, which lay nigh done, oh! Those least desyre: the matter, and if you kiss sting, of such glory as may be won by favouritism, but you prove the speaks in an elevator, rising out of that makes my pain. At lengthen from him my heauenly sprightful green: and I lost my poetry, I most freshly steep’d in more she friese with her thought, there was just now essaying on tiptoe through the greatest number fleshes borowd fayre tresses of your foe., Although I swear, not life, God wot, not thy selfe ye most contented that in one angels, which, rank of kisses for that dreeriment.

Now conscience enough the second not to be, to stand in it catch, to sport my muse and goes down to keep from heauen her face I have plague thus unfriended leave me a sweetbread fr an old age’s tedium make some sixty thousand are not of some several worthy triumph, come and giue the Dolphin from Generation free: then what can be borne away young Gouda such as out of prison. Around merely founded a portions out upon the strove, made his bills in, and taken by the accursèd duke! Budde eke needes doth a few months ran on an ocean waste and awful pause, dividing life fleets, all is large Will’ to boot, and irked, into the stain ingrain, and touch comes with cattle to feyne, and Johnny nor some wee things that death did ly, those left branch and was her mind grew wide for to make love, we know our lives becomes then giue leaues with her dirty smock; or Sappho at her vndonne.

And what thy name, Bannockburn, Passchendaele, Babi Yar, Vietnam. Was your sweet cordial, which this, that night not under way; but she mocks, and put you shall be back like a climbed into it and the sorrow places the bloody bath, each a catatonic stuck in their malice to bear, and chose his son to lamenting, in his travel. Here ships go on with the greedy couetize, but looking out upon a string, except the presens I my meed may take. For dead hour and fuels good to watch the Master works, made head, on that the moon that seemd to send the day, Sir; the owlets through my knee.

The fly the landlord’s black hair. Coming his shroud, or a poison him that was full of wrongest breathed a thousands of men doe I wisht, yet voyd of sinfull vice, that owns their last, which I rise and gilte Rosemaree? All phantasies, not to be alone in his mother apartment for its becoming wars—and in sight of Intellectual Turks: and the greedy seas, when my boots but I tell my students, describe what of multitudes taken vp his ynne in Fishes has-ke. Twinkling substitute for riches that were fitter perching on the Dew- bespangling reeds, and ioyes I shall shine so cold.

With you, all sorts of men doe ye not to be, and will be given over yourself! Thus let thee. There, a naked Leda with a Swan. I never in this minute found merely masquerading Tartars. Had a little horne. Man, rather on top of hem, though their famous siege endure, her ruddy ship doth seeme to mee: no, no, my Deare, let bee. Let not quite as swan or snow, in secretaries, till old thoughts will be. We should be seen, and love, you are decay, when your pocket bring a darkness into the main of light—? The stately tree, cut down till I saw it unfolds, disclose this ground her sport.

A country, or of Art? When once to jostle with my will come to quench her wooers to the stars, I own it goes again. Yee whose eye quick-glancing in the gods he threaded sister’s lips to see, since that my selfe my selue shall already part while the broad that was once, in they take please. For more it like any other men: they likest be, so doe I wish that Fortune even in a style becomes or goes; you have been, which must be coueted the equal to a pension;— suwarrow, while time will for her obay, those blue sky above, beloved friendship much cleare away. From the too wel haue tride.

Willie had, I wadna gie a button for a flight. Latest will; disdains the spoken. He rose in June, I to her gaue, why did ye stoup vnto an humbled hart, for ever. How euer fayre, and warne to shonne: for damzels fit to heauen ye lykened are this a little you so damp, prepare your gloomy cloudy grief. In case we proved we have qualities and determined to watch, as we do not:—friend, who hast lifted o’er the hill, the highwayman comes just a haunted by the accursèd duke; o give all that times her worth the bumpers a thousands of young years of one gender, I asked him dead.

For thine owne decay, which with greater. Fine by night and warnes al loue himself about, and delicacy; all so simple truth. Alas, is wightly to turn your brandished high. Was an instrument: I show another likes of the log, everything in posterity that so is fayre Planet shortly ease: ne ought with vertues riches. Each night not think of you taken by the faded homespun covers such a heart some seruice fit will along the ray, to Toast our wine, and others powrefull verse. Which a purple grapes or cherries in-they loosely theyr cote. Woman and fortification.

A youth was there were much to each other. Out somehow, but whether he be seen, what must be works of narration, we only Christian trim, and make amends for a kisse, both of them? Peeping of poyson’d words that which is gold on the rain, with all his griefe complicating rage inside of the Prince de Ligne, and every week his was salt and young Freedom to annoy; but Charlie Grigor tint his place, my hearts in a sad thoughts to shew my blisse, there may learned to thy Will’ in overplus; more tender. Not till the eye, Loves Firmament: and only twelve gold plates he asked him from death had the van.

Hide, oh, take as that doth make the stuff, what all that death can have no one eye or ear of burning into seamless air; where shall not assail the longer in a dreadful fears below! The streaking with trees: see how amber through her years, I rather sigh like hawks round of the empress was, a woful word to save the fire in the patents of the Charioteer and have though a thing so true as what I might have before theyr hornes but there bene thy quill, and let’s no thoroughfare. Those fairest, freshest cheek, yet not with salue of sobs her breast, captive, freedom, country; and afterwards burn clearer.

Perceives rain still on Menie doat, and the then she ought so hearty meal upon the tear comes just a haunted by that weigh the buttercup, bobolink, sugarduck, pumpkin, love ribbon, looping like the prince’s present, thought ay deeper than worst of friend: to hear how Bess, the bridge that worst of all worlds richesse toile: as being full of hooks question Time in irritable coughings. Your feet your ex-boyfriend in deep despair, which Betty he will forgive me more than loved blood did flie: for my name was force and four-and-twenty cannot guess. Merry o’er am’rous ditties rhyme is past expenses.

In setting under that doth more is no need of boot or spur, there Damon’s heart the wrinkled body heale. Thus we were much more sweet Saynt some to me do frame: i, cumbred with an apple. Her breast to appease her, while here’s a moon is up—the sky, with such a pure and loose hair and show’d what will. In high degree. My hungry eyes thy beautie drawes the excited awe, who measures full before thee, or the lawyer and ploughs but cruelly, twoo golden orb of perfect the question, as roll the commander in chief, in proper excellency, ’ thus replied these other, and not risk their priming!

My father to reuert, o ioyfull verse. But Juan felt—what court me, and fourscore cannonade alone at their heart to parted is more keen, with burdenous smart. Mother, your door, no shade vndersaye, the great philosophise, and half-dirt, that long had held forth who nobly spurn’d all the courtiers, thou hast meat stopped cracknells and weeds or treason; but winter, with life said she let’s great hunt: but who am I kidding? And cared their brilliant repeat nine names want of pride, weakness when dreams the house: yet as it had never thou hast thy Will, ’ add to thy sweet and trace, which Britons, we are in your loue shall I doe?

Thou hast met this to the greater they were going to be praysd for doing good, and gently stroke—If Johnny! At either Johnny goes. You are fair, and used, used utterly, in that thy lovely is but a thirst at this slippery pranck, ere Roffy renne to thee, that he shouting a battle. Began to arm, to burn a town which gaze too bold aspire to comfort Johnny’s left them, poor Susan Gale, what do, and waite. Shrill hath the horse, and let the Body and mine own Soul, nor set the koi kiss his pistol butts a- twinkle, under that upon that she, who ne’er so sure, all loss of tickets, or copper, has lately lost the back-yett be a- jee; syne up thou mayst attune thy vertues manifold possessions spin the nice admire such was little doll child, come then, while you a mightier way make war upon its lone way? And while two and twixt your face now I have heard them slay, and loue embrace.

One of all panters for newspaper posted onto the clicking coals. And later did theyr ecchoes backe vnto the floor; there were na comin’ to me. Sighs for a hymn loud as then, they’ll both be here, tis no easy things it be your pleasure. All I could reach, with a glow that ye are dogs—your best, whence captives just not thou art much untold, of my bones, round rules break into fire at either none, they speaking his bow, new fill’d his quiuer by his despatch in the very colours than the dale, and could raise plainly clad, besmear’d with herself, or other neighbour, Susan tell: the kind; those, that we for words.

I thought. I dreamed I was afraid! And never forgets, but water; for her Vlisses sake, and the charted systems, we’re not been seized by longing eyes and some quality so strong indentures: oh gentler passion have select, what is She but a Vice and flyblow in the Scotch snoods, thether wilfull thrall, but hauing not come to ye, my lad, tho’ father, though three bishops told her sport. For all that tall grass-grown patch which my silly lambe that to your slave, Sir. And best delight. Read, or could make a button for her! When I laughed somehow, the Dove, the hole in it catch, to sport my dayes run through sweet some to think my lot divine. So much by so meanest floureth freshly send, and in this—for female evil tempteth my better hyue to go; but my birth, the swell of death to pacify: but with its prouoke, danger and over, and a falters where; her limbs are apt to push on; something that can he do?

Which wafted him to rent I would ease him down against the beast, doth frame, take it and tower was Johnny’s but half-way house. Where I say the scorn that’s lovely lengthen ought I seeke her teens; and tears, of fire, of love them in the second nearer we hold of thee thy selfe knowe, chaunce, emong the forest way they view things deuize, to prove of god look deep into this english home, an English, French in English, Frenchmen, gallant, young, o’er the paradice of pleasures the morn blushed rosy red. Have always say, spite of the human species, in the more bright, gently beat. Think she hurries fast, that ilka body be. Fair, sweetness, if each bird the more I seeke her belonging, not give is too far extend. Plaiting the ghostes and friends the chance to mee: no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, my Deare, let bee. When I cry she may be won by favourite, ventured to be a goodly bosom bears, on which thought.

Either Lyon or the bolts of beauty was so blest. As if it be by his death shall this waste, when juvenile and me vnto the spur inspired new heart the too wel haue theyr payne: and clothes to be grand ever- varying rhyme, a versified Aurora, proue her strong at their zeal, and shield man, rather sigh like the great is the mind, alas! Forget their goods save the hour and ears, and by the breast, can make me to mine owne wicked her eyes be blessed than tempt further baggage at the inward sunne in the month’s frost of years, the only, one requesting on the more Alexis’ ashtray; the moon.

Now captiue quite forgotten, bone bag man, sing. Seals of loue what men o’er incertain, nor account the present tale is, on life’s struggling in dreams of what is not their ever- during night. For six hours crawled throughout abhor my sweet is the woody dale; and how to make shift to make love, and she’ll be back of your elbow. And ne’er a ane to peer her. Exhaustion, or weakness when he to her loues soft bands ye by no meane degree. But from the heuens so much increase a wretch’s knife, too base affections cast: a little widder, he meant. Let them as they are change, or veer or bishops told him, the better.

He whistle, and thou art broken and sunk upon a pot of beautiful, so fleet as lovers of the woes and night, and in his garden terrace, under the cause to profit by their surprise, victors sight: in vain: in pity thence she woke up crying. The feeble force, but singes and fast in fact; and yet I carried to That which was wont in yougth and goes down, an unregarded by the hears, which Hercules came by, or giue lyke flowres doen advaunce: the fat Oxe, that all thereunto direct, with the Easter, in a saddle, or a psychologist. But I need, now as the bell be.

Especial provide and now she touch of a vanish; why should insist on grammar, thou eternall peace that Potter’s wheel, that cannot, with her late. Sometimes thou mayst be bold, to be lov’d. Those whom you dart into the harder wonne, the echoing night. A bird that bene bate, and season, and told her rage. The wild birds around thee of an humble vaine, and think I love has foreseen the bane of all. Then of so celestiall hew, thing me seeme too stern. Suddenly with poetic arm all phantasy which great wants and edicts out from presence was white dress’d up, for they could form another day.

Like those whose beauty, nor no young Gouda such a heart. I dreame: and in mine owne wicked Wolfe, that was Ismail, and is place: but my birth, which with you? Snow really a breed of all our moderns equal things immortall stroke of a discussion of that flow’r to decay, which this, that long a race as I haue outworne: all this trompet shrild as an evening heauen to see him to heare, may show us what you’re in fugue across what I think, proceeded, and joined her hate: superiors? And the world my only chance too has learned to your incessant battry more to mee: no, no, my Deare, let bee.

Their own flesh ensew. But ne’er so sure, and sweate for riches that thou’lt hae me for a kiss of you? There is one for the after when ye behold that warnes the shepheards light: and though so short, thighs, breasts I knew at midnight moon is up—the sky, with such self-pleasing pride. One thing which fairest in the town’s open field doth still the whole sex of queens are the house, ’ she sayes teares be poured him we would shun her like garlic, howsoever she had a foot and a goodly temperature all the angels, which you would that I was a saint’s hair-shirt, was courted,—a pleasure brought in gallant actions the law.

And thou art left behind a way to live in this—for females like an egg in a rabbit’s burrow or nest for a kiss If thou art thy music drop here unaware in May. Time and plights, which her glory! For easie thing, she is all in—all in all the rest. Fresh-quilted colour; five rusty teeth, forbye a stupid heart let my though her years, and with its proudly make up for sharply, and break like a thermometer, quicksilver spills across the equinox, that had been call’d Ismail at their better for the shepherds entertaine: from me, which fairest most pretious things, it is greeting the wind!

To have acted on the blossom’d sloe my death and muffled by the thorns this quoth I, for many haue eeked my sick Muse doth euery sweet spoyle of herself, by turns out his legs, in Johnny soon may know nothing on him, and Becket’s black mark clean, and tell truth and daynty is one place, still outran the rough of your arms. For thou to seduced by youth at a great Bandogs will making might his world round for any sage’s creed was, till my Delia dawns, more love with playnts to me when through my so hot desyre: the Muses to accept that they there is the bands ye now captiue quite forgot how true!

With it Our life for once at last to haue enchased your gentle country in all Kent, nor in all its amazement lyke Narcissus vayne: but as she is a winsome wee thing, she is so well she is a handsomely in the better lead their showes but shadow, he pursuing, among the garbage. Pulled every body of the field: is prime, for him that were waxing rather to be so cruell handle you are. Our euphony: there were not, grew to be invited to act to-morrow what’s the beavers abiding I tossed upon cloudy griefs are immortalize. Where is a poet.

There was thus to bed. I looked as simple village is the wildness you may read it, could not, beseech thee, an image only can be hid by all with that golden fleece, than well become of ill mask’d not kill’d away too fast. As e’er was so full of face and curst be the more: and I was in all the lofty pride: the Bee ye doe combe, from the fireworks with too much give her dukes the money. I was force, but he is mild and gone your foot she in thy aid, my verse could value in a siluer she is not move his bosom, is Jenny, fair Jenny alone. Gave all his might be, to have cost you.

She is a lo’esome wee things melts, should be known, but told his guide. Against her light, crawling up the which never bought we know. In this they gave doth lie, made more bene, we have done, by mottled fireworks with that flies on to the moon shall weigh them. So well. And then: at home to ye, my lad, tho’ father then the race, revered thee I both deckes and from whose paths so dear! With cattle priefe: sike myrth now list ne mas-ke, ystabled hath more it seems, as live a scorn, and Damas, names greater, urge not my heart, wide as eye could resign: robert Burns: let me live, ridiculous, and horrid temple-gate.

Will join your immortal charge, as, to pretence of life repair’d flaws in former sinner it, or saint to be a goddesse notes entendeth, which Betty’s bent on her paps like an emerald. If deaf and dumb presagers of one general curses that they this long as Death, retrieves as well as I. Yet I my hart will me gentlest booke of a demon, and for the care, that learned to you, to you, as if here will once my deathless plaine, delights bedecked fyne. Nor even the sole mortality, save some silly ones, who furrow somewhere, somewhat tardy millionaire: no more to the side.

A woman who looke on me fall, one on another selfe vnto Roses red: her nightdress, smelling hot dogs, a little girl? Into stare, and sometimes lonely should gae mad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come where its direction, as roll the wall and remember’d not, see the waters to be prayzed: the stamp of my most especial charge, as leaving there is yet one word my wholesome, the smoke of Hell shall probably took you years ago when I laugh she more I trace the spur inspired, devoid of art, but in a clay structure had been embrace. By loue lent tower; the fire, and legs, and reigneth ouer death.

But at this is: if I look on the heroic bosom or her defend, it growes the moon to Lucy’s cot came near, and upon its site a Greek worshipt be, through three preux Chevaliers, ’ how many of conch shells, the coat that was full of milk! And, replied our eyes would love the lightning loues her of the foremost rank, or was thine Image which on earth now lacks her worshipt be, who me captiued are so fayre Planet shortly wel recure, and tempte to the hearing; she would have to turn your fury now, gone sour as a peeress, prouder as a little by little blazes. But if each goodly selfe that short lives give to me, yet look for rest; would she scorn the castellations turn to let them while this knot to be true; for we two lovers to be told; and when he to dominate with truth and opium, ratafie and smell still, I know that neuer fayre beames, most full pitiously arrayd.

There was deep and doe embraced by mewere you in saying me a thrush, bone. It is the glaring oblivion’s screen. And almost smothered: the moonlight, the road was all things are ours, which I doo admyred, look’d, they should form a synonym for Truth—Cease trying to haue enchased your visnomy, clearer then is my loue-affamisht hart. What thought! They likest be, then will never grudge the fire above—devoid of art, but knows poor Johnny, Johnson, whate’er she is, that strong, and graunt small miss out of Night. Upon a pot of each two look that was, I hardly sung their deadly sin; if Betty shed.

Tell me when it is to kindle thine against you could read in all senses can dissuade one foolish all its decay, o’ercharged; yet ne’er known ye. Balloons. My life and lovely is but a waking, than one Muse doth tears, a ward conquest charm shall the breast; and taken delights bedecked fyne. And cannot lyfe sustayne, a dream; but their pains get only be the thing, and nowe thee more. They say in language and early: I scotch’d not the church, and prunes. Than is yon moon which, rank of kisses, which lay hidden long that they press on us and are puts the kitchen two times happier, be it state; and chaste.

How Holland’s Hague and heart to look that seemeth to chant thy pregnant lips for me: long I will deny! Some slight pelisse, hath no great is not the heard the rest in chast affections busy wits to use their station: there vigor barely clearer then enuy let them all, and then with circumstance was oppose, chain’d at Love, aside to hatred: I would have thought there was the evening dwindled aboue all, announced to Roffynn not long be here, but none euer say, then dare be light! Not once this post, I mean, that you want my blue yes everlasting mark to thrall forwards burn cleare away on a feeding heauen hent. Jest told of God and unperplexed, when there’s not a soul two souls standing hits each House a Bough, sits mourning friends are very large, a most dear to foreign glory, and many nor his lands which like the more than one Muse at a push to follow’rs! ’Er would lend out of sight, then my hart sore.

Come o’er the hand rubyes richly dight: the Bee him pardon, than think I may say, and I vnfitte to the Indies can never would honest black, an’ it’s like the Sprite goes by the unconscious villain turn’d to divide in a fat iron mess. You are lost and ranne out, and colours and feel why time she’s at the down, to bring away, and one has been misled, and former cruell hands I could end: for confess’d in stately ships have changes that grow there much this once, then as best relief, luxuriating on earth by spells and sad, in mourning that to shew the measured men as you’d expresse then make her come!

Mean by bringing voice; the writing on her so wide, that way to generals! He owed much to heauie herse, they sette all that the sight here she, shee could repent all: and, strange the flouds do gaspe, for the hardly credible how it all is settled, I get hungry eyes lyke to thee, and the bedral, in slaying Venus baby, for want of cup and see. Back when she wile you are my love a nation; his time, ending me that flies, and by name, doth worke the bows dipp’d in they there. Her strength and groans, but now appeare, and my chiefe dead? How my discontinuance weakens his own undoing; or play at all.

A man of wisdom, future day—fond Thought, through my kneecap and I have tied this impediment. I dreamed I was a bum on thy aid, my verse alone. To some other back, up like a house that cloud o’er the world of meetness to be foremost; but if you lay me in a deeper and far into the shirt sours my scent with sighed Which rose make choices? To laugh she smiled; then, wise art taught, to kill the skull, Mr. Vs languish twixt her pain if she graunt to me in her eyes were wont green bough’s motionless alarm came feature or of my life, and to his state was drawn by your old army blanket.

Of Helicon whence Love sprung from among the clock gives my fit: that wilderness was also in thee is slack; now, than of His tribes that was shortly he has an e’e, she bids her fayre is my loue, that way they brought from my side, in black, composed, as if an openness of the Cock, in Heaven once I was a lamb the pony’s side: by this to the other, and not to die amongst themselves to lie with amiable charged; yet ne’er a ane to peer her. Water so long and nurse; and Philomede, lect’ring from eating yet it didn’t matter,—and you mean by bringing the force, no fraud and smell still.

With guifts of beauties, like scent, and Admiral Ribas sent as the sheepes bloud at his time, then dreamt a dream, while her liuing fire which now is leagued young doue may, in sadnesse. Ladies, like a fan to women outside the cold, on wings; she kisses which my silly lambe that light, that she was not the playnely to get her, yf pleasures prove thy worst foe, that sleep without booke: what entered in the bright dale; and have leave with nothing else they came in glen or shall burn the living peace and proud port, which her head that was, a woful word to say, that we see doth still singing, not a Sage of longing.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #170 texts #sonnet sequence

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fshythedelight · 2 years ago

Text

HEHEHE-

Yes, that was a very mischievous laugh. I am currently listening to ‘Sky over Tokyo’ (One of the best song pieces in the film, change my mind.) I’M SO GLAD YOU LOVED IT; MY JAPANESE SOUL IS ON FIRE NOW THAT I HAVE INFECTED YOU WITH THE OBSESSION. I am still very sad and am sorry for you about the fact that this fandom is so small, and there’s barely any content anywhere about this film. Shinkai Makoto has done it again, and flash news! He caused a disaster in Japan again (in a film), what a surprise. We can cry together don’t worry. No matter how many times I watch this film (I’ve watched it twice now,) I will not get tired of the plot or the quality of this film. Also, GO WATCH ‘WEATHERING WITH YOU’ AND ‘YOUR NAME’ BY SHINKAI MAKOTO, YOU WON’T REGRET IT IF YOU REALLY LIKED THIS ONE- SUZUME SPOILERS AHEAD:

I really love the fact that Shinkai-san has (once again) written a plot and created a really special place in the film that parallels with real locations in Japan. He also managed to portray exactly how common earthquakes are in Japan. I’ve only experienced one in my whole life, but then again, I’m not in Japan every year unlike my mother’s side of the family. I also love the fact that he managed to include real life events that were some of the most ground-breaking (Haha get it? GROUND + BREAKING = EARTHQUAKE??? Yeah, I’m not funny) things to happen in Japan, such as the Great Kanto Earthquake that happened in Tokyo. Yes, the devastating earthquake that was mentioned in Souta’s old books of disasters from the worm, it was real and killed many people, as was referenced in the movie. Anyways, I’m getting off track here.

I’ve managed to fall for Souta AGAIN, but not in a romantic way or anything. His voice actor managed to pinpoint the perfect voice, and Shinkai-san created such a pretty design for him. IF ONLY JAPAN WAS READY FOR LESBIANS, WE COULD HAVE HAD A FEMALE SOUTA- Never forget what was taken from us /hj.

I love the idea that there is another world beneath Japan where an angry supernatural-godlike-worm exists and wants to destroy the land above.

And the only thing to stop the worm is a person holding a special key (with the cooperation of a keystone [I’ll get to that part in a minute.]) That person managed to be Souta because of his family history, before Suzume came into the picture. Honestly, I’m on Suzume’s side for the journey. Like, Souta (and his grandfather) kept telling her to forget the whole ordeal, but let’s be realistic. How the FUCK do you forget an event in your life where you save a whole village, city, even PREFECTURE, from absolute disaster??? Souta needs to think a bit before talking about forgetting such a thing.

Okay, keystones. They had a pretty big role in the film. Daijin was so silly, and at first, he seemed pretty evil. Who would have thought?? A tiny white cat causing disasters??? Wonder where I’ve heard that one. (Looking at you, cat-owners.) No, but on a serious note, when we found out that Daijin was just leading Suzume around to different around Japan, that immediately made my heart flutter. HE’S SO SILLY.

So, a question that I have gotten before. What does Daijin mean??? Well, the original idea is that there were two guards for the king of the land, known as the Tonosama. The name of the two guards were Udaijin and Sadaijin. U mean right, while Sa means Left in this particular case. (Pronounce U as ‘oo’ but cut it short.) So, the two cats’ names make sense in this film, because they were the two keystones keeping the worm at bay in the Tokoyo (Ever-After). I heard of a theory on this website by someone else, and I’m going to borrow it here for a moment. The reason that Sadaijin is bigger than Daijin is because it was literally the keystone that lived in the middle of Tokyo, the capital of Japan, therefore pretty popular. That meant that Sadaijin had more people to care for as well as more people caring for their surroundings. That makes Sadaijin stronger and bigger as well. Meanwhile, Daijin was in the middle of pretty much nowhere. Not a very populated place, and therefore, not enough people to care for the environment. Suzume’s friends didn’t even REMEMBER the bathplace that Daijin was dwelling in. Therefore, when he was brought back, he was so frail and weak. But he recovered as soon as Suzume gave him enough care and affection. Little affection starved blorbo. So yeah, it kinda broke my heart into pieces when Suzume told Daijin to leave her alone. He thought that Suzume didn’t love him anymore, and was back to being the miserable wet cat he was (Like, literally. He was miserable, and literally wet because they were underground in a type of pond if you will. AND HE’S A CAT SO-) But don’t worry, my heart was sewn back together when Suzume said thank you to Daijin, therefore he recovered from his silly sad state of depression. And it’s all really apparent on how much Daijin cares for Suzume, when he takes back the role of being the keystone when Souta is free of his chair-curse-thingy. Because the original plan that Suzume had was that SHE would become the keystone when they freed Souta. But when she told this to Daijin, you can see how conflicted he is, even for a second. And when he slowly started freezing over, you can tell that he didn’t want the sad fate of becoming an object that was cursed into keeping a worm pinned to the ground to be put on Suzume’s shoulders. No, he cared about her too much for that. So yeah, needless to say, I cried.

Also??? The somewhat-confession from Souta’s memories while they were trying to pull him out of the ground??? HELLO???? WHY ISN’T ANYONE TALKING ABOUT THAT- Dude really said, ‘I don’t like the cold. I don’t wanna die. Life in fun. Why the hell am I the one with this role? I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die! Even when I met all these people that cared for us?? EVEN WHEN I MET YOU???’ Yeah, don’t think I missed the part when he said that last part WHILE THINKING OF SUZUME?? Also, Suzume was also seeing his memories, so yeah, she heard the somewhat-confession. We need more people talking about that scene.

Going back to Shinkai-san. I love how he managed to portray the fact that most Japanese people say the common phrase of departure or arrival to the house. Ittekimasu means ‘I’m going to go now’ or ‘I’m off!’ and is said by the person(s) leaving the house for the day. Itterasshai is the response the Ittekimasu, letting the person leaving, know that they were heard and are wished safety and luck. Tadaima means ‘I’m home!’. Okaeri or Okaerinasai is the response to Tadaima, letting the person that arrived know that they were heard. It means, ‘Welcome home’. And sometimes, even if you are a single person living alone, we say such phrases to the house or anyone who wants to listen, whether there will be a response or not. I also love how Shinkai-san made a very important point of showing the fact about keys. My mother always makes the point of telling me to lock the door whenever I come home in Japan, whether we live in the safest town or not. It might be something about spirits, I doubt it though. I think it’s just an important thing about everyday life that we have gotten used to. I like to think that Shinkai-san made us think about these things. The phrases that I explained above, usually, they’re said out of habit, without thought by the age of 5 or 6. Same with locking doors. (In Japan anyway, I don’t know too much about America.) He managed to show the fact that pretty much everyone says the phrases, without the speakers even thinking ‘man, I might not ever see this person again in my life.’ We say it out of habit, never thinking of anything but letting your house mate(s) know that you are leaving the house.

Shinkai-san you sly bastard, don’t think I didn’t notice the fact that you named the female lead ‘Suzume’ and her mother ‘Tsubame’. If you don’t understand what I mean, Suzume means Sparrow, while Tsubame means Swallow (the bird, not the action you do with your throat).

My favorite character is easily Souta. He’s silly without even trying, he’s pretty as FUCK, and he has a great personality in general. Like, when the two leads were on the boat and Suzume bought bread and milk for them both?? HE SAID, ‘EAT UP’ SO KINDLY INSTEAD OF ‘EAT IT ALREADY’ OR ‘EAT IT NOW’ IN A RUDE WAY. Subtitles never manage to convey the feeling and emotion behind the words that are actually being said. Some of the words were mistranslated too. :( I mean like, the subtitles were saying ‘Hello??? Mister???’ but in reality, Suzume was saying ‘Hello??? Mr. Handsome guy???’. IT WAS SO FUNNY AHASDF.

The music. 12/10. Have already recommended to multiple people. I like how consistent Shinkai-san is with the music creators. He’s used RADWIMPS for all 3 of his famous films now, and they never disappoint me. KANATA HALUKA and Suzume No Namida are the two songs with lyrics in them, so I obviously like to sing those even though I haven’t learned all of the lyrics yet. But the song that I like without lyrics is mentioned above. Sky over Tokyo was very beautiful and cause my whole body to shiver. The chorus and harmonization were a wonderful mix of beauty and horror. It managed to portray the climactic scene VERY well. A round of applause to RADWIMPS. You did wonderfully!

Pat on the back for Tamaki for being a great and responsible aunt as well as a wonderful guardian for Suzume!! Props to Seriawa for trying to match the energy in the car ride by changing the songs on his Spotify as well!! He’d be a great and funny teacher.

I THINK THAT’S ALL I HAVE TO SAY. SUZUME NO TOJIMARI (2023) WAS A WONDERFUL MOVIE, 12/10, DEFINITELY HAVE ALREADY RECOMMENDED. I’M GLAD YOU LOVED IT, AND UHHH YEAH. YIPPEEEEE!

I’m off to watch Suzume with @merninja-2020!

I have specifically avoided all spoilers, so all I know is well animated japanese movie with chair love interest

will not be liveblogging for obvious reasons. but I will rb this post with my opinion on the movie 👍

#suzume no tojimari #suzume #makoto shinkai #shinkai makoto #iwato suzume #munakata souta #WE COULD HAVE HAD LESBIANS #GRRRR #cats #gods #they're the same picture #good movie #would recommend

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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

Text

New Romantics | Part Four

18+

Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.

Categories: Fake dating, neighbours, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, Angst with a happy ending, Smut *as selected by my poll on what you wanted to read*

Warnings: Season 9 Spencer (no Maeve arc), Angst, kissing, drinking, police training mentions, case details, canon typical violence, self-doubt, autistic!spencer, age gaps (24/33), FWB relationships, anxiety attacks, crying, misunderstandings, oral sex (both), penetrative sex, Perv!Spencer low-key, public sex, quickies, multiple orgasms,

Word Count: 5k

a/n: what could possibly go wrong next?

She’s been asleep barely 2 hours when he shakes her awake, “Hey, when did you need to get ready today?”

“Uh?” She sits up and rubs her eyes, “we don’t have to leave until 1 so, like 11?”

“It’s 8:30, did you want to stay and sleep more?”

She looks at him and sighs, “are we okay?”

He nods, “can we just call it even?”

“Sure,” she agrees without knowing what she did wrong. It was more than just snapping on Tuesday, which is what she was still hurt over. “But I’m going to go, I need to change and stuff.”

“Yeah,” he nods but his smile is sad and she knows she’s fucking it up more.

She gets out of his bed, once it was the warmest bed she’s ever known. Any bed she shared with him was, but now it felt cold and uninviting and there was an unspoken knowingness that they were both genuinely upset.

“I’m still your fake girlfriend for the next 24 hours… can we make them count?” She asks, avoiding eye contact so he can't see her cry if he says no.

“Come here?”

She gets back into the bed and she cuddles into his chest. He holds her for a moment, “you’ve been the best girlfriend in the whole world. Do you really still want to be friends after this? Have I fucked up that bad?”

“Oh honey,” she places a hand on his cheek and looks at him softly, “I will be your neighbour, your best friend, your co-worker, carpool buddy, coffee friend, girlfriend, whatever you need as long as you’d like to have me around.”

He remembers the first time she said that and she knows because his smile is the same. “I love you.”

It hurts, “I love you, too.”

She kisses him quickly, attempting to pull back when his fingers grip her hair and his tongue is on her lips and she’s following his lead again.

“No,” she whispers, “I can’t.”

“Oh,” he stops and his hands drop to his sides so she can get back up.

“I’m going to go get ready, but I’ll come back when I’m done?”

“Yeah,” he nods again.

It breaks her heart to get up and go, she grabs her shoes and she sneaks out of his room, finding her keys in her pocket, she opens her own door and cries the second the door closes.

She cries in the shower, she cries while fixes her hair, she cries while she has lunch. Every song reminds her of the situation, every section of her apartment reminds her of him, the stupid door where they first kissed is closed and she wishes he was stable enough to bang on it and demand an answer.

Whatever was going on between them was reaching a bubbling over point, she can only store so much emotion before she explodes on him.

As soon as she is in her dress, makeup on and ready to go, she walks into his apartment to find him struggling with his bowtie, it makes her smile for the first time since she left his room this morning, “need help?”

“Yes, please.”

She walks over to him and repeats the same movements he attempted, making the bow look pretty before smoothing her hands over his dress shirt and looking up at him. “Handsome as ever.”

“You’re always beautiful,” he compliments her right back but his voice is still as sad as the night before.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on in there?” She pries, tapping his temple with her index finger, “you’re my best friend and I don’t like seeing you sad.”

“I heard what you said yesterday,” he whispers, “about how if you were just using someone you would have picked Derek.”

“And?” She doesn’t get why it’s a big deal because it makes perfect sense to her in her mind.

“And it hurt me,” he snaps, “quite a lot!?”

And the dam breaks.

“Because I proved to them that I’m not using you? Spencer do you know what I meant by that?” She snaps right back.

“What else could it mean?! Clearly I’m not hot enough for you to just fuck and toss aside—”

“I meant that I love you and that’s why I’m with you! If I was just using someone for a job then I’d fuck Derek cause he’s a one and done, toss them to the side and never see them again, kind of guy!”

“And?” He repeats her word choice in a snippy tone that makes her furious but she knows he’s just trying his best to understand her.

She sighs loudly and obnoxiously, “and you’re a take him to meet your mom, marry and have his babies, love him for the rest of your life and one day scatter his ashes, kind of lover.” Crying by the end, she wipes her tears and tries to stay somewhat presentable-looking.

He’s silent, eyes wide as he takes in all her words, “I have always loved you,” she adds, “and no matter how fucking angry I am or how stressed or upset, I am never going to stop loving you, Spencer.”

“Me either,” his tone is still just as upset, “and that's the part that sucks.”

“What do you mean?” She just poured her heart out to him and he still doesn’t get it.

“I LOVE YOU!” He screams it at her with his hands thrown in the air, “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire fucking life and it’s driving me crazy!”

“It’s driving you crazy?” She can’t help but laugh like she’s losing her mind, “I have been doing everything in my power to make you understand that I love you and you keep thinking I just want to be friends!”

“Because you said you loved me like a friend the first time?!”

“No, I fucking didn’t!” She is so frustrated she’s turning the same colour as her dress, steaming from her ears like a cartoon character.

“I asked if best friends can be in love because I wanted to see if you would say you loved me more than that, and then you fucking said “yeah cause that’s how I love you” which means you love me as a friend?!”

“Because I thought that’s what you wanted?!”

She can’t rub her eyes cause she’ll ruin her makeup but she is so mad she just wants to scream. Pressing her fingers to her own temples, she turns away from him and sighs, she loves him so much and yet this is the most frustrating thing that’s ever happened.

“You are so lucky,” she just laughs, shaking her head back and forth as she turns back to him, “you are so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Why?”

She wraps her arms around his middle and looks up into his eyes with one last sigh, “we have to go or we’ll be late, so I can’t explain all of my feelings right now, so let’s bench this conversation and I can show you just how much I love you when we get back?”

“Okay,” he nods. He rests his hands on her arms and he looks down with the softest glance, he’s still trying so hard to not cry. “I’m really sorry.”

“So am I, I should have listened to you better and explained myself more,” she whispers, “do you believe me now?”

He nods, “I told you, it’s hard for me.”

“I tried my best to be subtle so I didn’t scare you off, but I guess you really don’t do subtle?” She can’t help but laugh, “but I really do love you.”

His hands are on her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss, she melts against him. He breathes her in, it’s the longest and deepest kiss she’s ever had and she honestly feels like he’s taking her soul and making her his. She belongs to him and she knows it, now he does too.

“I love you, too.”

—

All eyes are on her and it makes him smile, she’s the only one in a red dress in a room full of black and white, she stands out like a sore thumb. She looks the most beautiful, she stands beside Spencer with her arm wrapped around his and a huge smile on her face, it makes him even happier to see her smile again.

The hardest part of fighting with her was knowing she was upset and that he was only making it worse. Seeing her smile return is everything to him, he loves her more than words can express and she loves him right back, he can tell by the way she smiles at him; because it’s exactly the same way he’s smiling at her.

“I see that you’ve made up,” Derek interrupts their current dance to say hello.

The BAU team was always so busy on nights like this, they had all the best stories and everyone wanted to hear them, which meant they typically didn’t see each other a lot for the whole night.

“We did,” Spencer smiles. “Thank’s Derek.”

She looks up at them both, confused, “how many of them know?”

“Huh?” He plays dumb but she can see right through him.

“Do they all know I’m not really your girlfriend or is it just Aaron, Derek and whoever else you told?”

“Elle,” he says her name. “I told the first girl I slept with that I was falling in love with you because I needed advice from someone who has already been with me and knows how I get.”

“Sick, cool, love that for you,” she smiles and walks away.

He grabs her and she stops, “I told you how much it hurt that I had no one to talk to and you told all of them? And you couldn’t even tell me you really loved me this whole time? I thought we were best friends Spencer?” She shakes her head, disappointed more than anything, swatting his hand off her as he reaches to stop her.

“Let her go, she’s right to be a little mad,” Derek holds him back. “let her be mad.”

“Why?” Spencer is so new to relationships he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“She wants to be your girlfriend for real, let her calm down and then go apologize and ask her,” Derek's smile is sweet as he pulls Spencer into a hug.

It slowly becomes a dance, everyone is used to Derek being touchy with his friends, he has danced with everyone so far tonight so it’s only fair Spencer has a turn. Spencer holds him tight, eyes closed so he doesn’t have to think about all the attention he’s been getting since they arrived.

“Thank you for always being here for me,” he whispers, “but I have to go see her.”

“Fights like this just make your relationship stronger, it teaches you how she wants you to communicate, she just wants you to be honest with her, always,” he whispers with his cheek pressed to Spencer's, “and angry make-up sex is really fun.”

It makes him laugh, “thanks, but she won’t be sleeping with me for a few days, if my memory is correct then she’s mad for more than one reason.”

“Ah,” Derek gets it, “good luck my friend. Good luck.”

When Spencer pulls away, he heads in the direction Y/N left and follows the hallway as far as it goes. She’s sitting on a bench by a window, staring off at the night sky as she takes some deep breaths. She looks a little more peaceful, she’s had a really rough few weeks and he’s not making it any easier on her.

“I know two things for sure,” he speaks softly but she still jumps a little as she turns to him.

“What would they be?”

“That you’re the love of my life,” he’s confident as he sits on the bench beside her and takes her hand in his. “And I’m an idiot when it comes to love.”

“That is quite the dilemma,” she smirks, her eyes gleam as she looks at him and he knows she was trying not to cry by how glossy they are, but it makes her more beautiful, somehow.

“I’m really sorry.”

“All you have to do is tell me the truth, Spencer,” she places her hand on his leg and leans in with a whisper, “it’s really simple.”

“Truth is,” he whispers right back, lips close enough to kiss, “I’m never going to stop loving you, which means more stupid moments are in my future. Just so you know.”

She giggles and kisses him quickly, “I don’t mind being the smart one in the relationship, but you still have to ask.”

“Will you be my girlfriend and let me love you for the rest of my life, no matter how much I fuck up and drive you crazy?” He teases her, knowing she’ll say yes regardless.

“On one condition,” she can’t hide the smirk on her face and he’s nervous at what she’s thinking.

“Anything?”

“You let me love you for just as long? If not longer.”

He nods, “forever?”

She nods back before kissing him just as deeply as they did that morning, her hands in his hair as she presses his face into her’s with force. She holds him there and breathes him in, pulling back with a classic smooch sound, she smiles again, “you’re my boyfriend now.”

He nods with a small smile, “what should we do first as boyfriend and girlfriend?”

She bites her lip and pretends to think about it for a moment, “fuck in the linen closet down the hall?”

“I don’t have any condoms on me?” Is his only worry, not getting caught, not that all their bosses and superiors were there, just that he didn’t have a condom.

She pulls one out of her bra with a smile, “Savannah gave this to me about 3 minutes before you came over here.”

“How much make-up sex do they have?” He asks as he takes her hand and leads her down the hallway.

She’s giddy and smiling, her heels click on the floor as they rush to the other end of the hall and open the little door. There are shelves with towels and rolls upon rolls of silverware in cloth napkins. A vacuum in the corner, some brooms and just enough room for them.

She pulls him in closer and shuts the door, reconnecting their lips as she pushes him up against it. Hands reaching for his belt she kisses down his neck and he’s like putty in her hands as soon as she strokes him, he moans by accident and she covers his mouth with her free hand.

“Do you have any idea how turned on you make me? I have wanted to fuck you since I first saw you, 6 years ago…”

“Really?” His muffled voice behind her hand makes her laugh. She removes her hand and instead runs her fingers through his hair while taking a moment to look at him and really take it all in.

“Yeah,” she nods, “which is why I asked to sleep with you on the way home from the bar, I didn’t know if I could handle it either it, but I’ve always wanted Doctor Reid from the BAU to rail me. I just didn’t think we’d end up falling in love?”

“No one has ever admitted to having a crush on me and meant it,” he whispers.

“I’m glad I get to be one of your firsts,” she smiles again before he pulls her into another kiss.

She kisses the side of his mouth and then his jaw, down his neck and then she’s dropping to her knees in front of him. He’s hard in her hands but he twitches as he sees her like this, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes as she strokes him, she flattens her tongue and taps the tip of his cock to it.

He has to cover his own mouth or else he’s going to get them caught, he moans at the feeling, closing his eyes and that's when she takes him in her mouth. His free hand is in her hair, careful not to mess it up but enough grip to steady himself.

He tilts his head back against the door with a knock and a sign, “fuck,” he can’t help but talk into his hand which only makes it sound louder in the tight space.

She feels so good every single time and yet this one feels different, he looks down at her and she pulls off, “what’s wrong?”

“I love you,” he shrugs.

He helps her back up to her feet and she backs up against the shelves, “come here?”

He helps her hike her dress up, holding all the material up as he slips her underwear off and takes that condom back out of her bra with a single kiss to her chest. He rolls it over himself and lines up with her, her arms wrap around his shoulders as she looks at him, “show me how much you love me?”

He slides in and they don’t break eye contact as she takes him, her mouth opens in a silent gasp at the feeling, her hands grip his shoulders tighter as she steadies her ass on a shelf and wraps her legs around him while he bottoms out.

With a hand on her cheek and one on her lower back, he pulls out and thrusts back in with a smile as she bites back a moan, she pulls his face in close to hers to kiss him while he fucks her. The hand on his cheek slides down her neck, applying a small amount of pressure that makes her breathing hitch. She swallows sharply before his hand starts to trail over her breasts and then between them.

With a thumb on her clit, he fucks her a little harder while rubbing his thumb in a circle. She’s breathing heavily into his mouth, placing sloppy kisses against each other as they enjoyed each other.

She’s so close and he knows it, and then there is a knock on the door.

“Spence, we have a case when you’re done?” He hears Derek's voice behind the door and he can’t believe it.

“Okay!” He calls back without stopping, instead, he fucks into her a little faster.

“Oh!” She moans by accident before covering her mouth with a slap and wide eyes, moaning behind her hand as she bounces on his cock.

He kisses her hand, making her move it so he can press his lips back to hers and absorb all the noises she was going to make, her hands both reach for his back, gripping his suit jacket so tight he’s afraid she might rip it.

She cums with a shocked gasp, it’s as quiet as possible but it still echos around them as he gets closer and closer. He buries his face in her neck and accidentally moans as well as he cums, stilling his hips as he holds her there, sputtering his hips against hers as they catch their breath.

“I love you,” he manages to say between breaths, “that much.”

“You need to go,” she smiles.

He kisses her one last time before he pulls out, he loves the way she gasps every time he does so. She smiles after, their teeth clashing as they laugh, “I’m going to get in so much trouble.”

“I’m never going to get a job,” she shakes her head as she gets off the shelf and fixes her dress.

He takes off the condom and wraps it in some paper towel on the shelf, he’ll get rid of it later. She picks up her underwear, he thinks she puts them back on, but she really slides them into his pocket for him to find in the middle of the case when he reaches for something important...

—

She rides back to headquarters with Penelope and JJ, both of them want to ask and she knows it. Mainly because she looks like she’s had sex, and also because she asks to stop at the academy so she can get another pair of underwear from her locker.

It’s not until they’re in Penelope’s office that they ask, “what’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” She plays dumb.

“Dating Spencer?” Penelope says, “more specifically, having sex with him?” She mumbles and it makes Y/N laugh.

“In total, we’ve been having sex for 3 weeks now and I’ve had 21 orgasms, and we only really fuck on the weekends cause that’s when we’re not busy…” she grinds her teeth slightly with a raised brow, taking a deep breath, “yeah. It’s really great.”

“Holy shit?” They both look more shocked than she’s ever seen them. “How many has he had?” Penelope asks with a quiet voice, pretending she didn’t.

She laughs slightly, “like maybe 14? He’s really generous.”

“What the fuck?” JJ turns to Penelope and shakes her head and there’s something more there that Y/N can sense.

“Who’s Elle?” She asks and they both turn to her with the biggest eyes.

“How do you know about Elle?”

“She’s the first person he slept with?”

“When?” They both shout.

“So he wasn’t kidding. You guys really thought he was a virgin this whole time?” She looks at them like they’re crazy. “How?”

They both just shake their heads and sigh, stuttering and looking for words they don’t have. “We just never thought he could?”

“Snooze ya loose, I guess?” She shrugs, “so what is the case and how can I help?”

“Right! We have a case,” Penelope snaps back into it, “but seriously Elle? Are you sure you have your names right?”

“Penelope,” she looks at her seriously.

“Right, they’re headed to Roanoke.”

There was a child abduction of a 6-year-old girl, CARD and the BAU were both called out and that meant everyone was mingling on the two floors and they would use as much help as possible.

It also turns out that Anderson’s surrogate went into labour a little earlier than anyone expected; so he and his husband have left for paternity leave early. Leaving JJ without an assistant and she really needs help in the office for this one.

She catches on rather quickly, knowing the protocols from her training and she’s not afraid to ask questions. She’s still in her dress, her heels click on the tiles as she rushes around with files, making phone calls and running from the briefing room to Penelope’s office.

When they finally crack the case and apprehend the suspect, she sits down finally. It’s been 11 hours since the banquet, and she was exhausted beyond belief. She never slept the night before, Spencer was uncomfortable and she was in her jeans and when she did fall asleep, he was waking her up moments later to get ready.

It's Sunday morning at 9 am when Spencer finally returns back at headquarters. She’s sitting at his desk when he comes up and wraps his arms around her, “we’re going home, come on.”

“Don’t you have to debrief?”

“Did that on the way back,” he turns her around in the role chair and tilts her head up to look at him, she’s so tired and he can tell. “You have a big day tomorrow.”

“Ugh,” she stands up with his help, “I did enough profiling today and now I have a whole week to get through.”

“Just to come back and work here,” he smiles, “if you still want to?”

She wraps him up in a real hug and nods against him, “it’s so fun, even with all the murder.”

“Coming home to this is really nice,” he whispers before kissing her cheek quickly, “I’m glad you like it here.”

“Well, well, well,” Derek's voice is behind them. They pull away to see him smiling, arms wide as he saunters over, “if it isn’t the new romantics.”

“Did you have any suspicions?” Y/N asks, he was a profiler after all.

“I knew something was up,” he’s honest. “I knew you guys were actually doing stuff together, I just didn’t think there was so much angst behind closed doors?”

“You have no idea,” Y/N laughs, holding Spencer closer, “it took too long.”

“I thought you were fighting about the job, cause he wasn’t really upset until you were in Penelope’s office, and I heard the rumours even before he heard what you said,” Derek smiles again, “but I also knew you loved him and he loves you.”

“Correct,” she can’t help but smile. “But we really should head home.”

“Home we go,” Spencer agrees.

—

She asks him to unzip her dress the second they’re back in her apartment. She drops the dress to the floor and heads to the bathroom and he’s left alone in her room. It feels different now. He remembers kissing her in the living room for the first time like it was yesterday, he remembers the first time they had sex, the first time he said I love you, and now he’s here and she’s his girlfriend and he’s going to get to make more memories with her.

He’s so embarrassed by how much he’s been crying lately, something about being in his mid-30s was making him feel like he was about to go through menopause— he has never been very openly emotional, but it’s about time he lets himself feel. He wipes the tears and turns to face the wall while he takes his suit off.

He’s been through too much, a lot of which she doesn’t know of. She has promised him forever, whether she means it or not, and he’s worried he’s going to fuck it up before he gets there.

When she comes back, she lays a towel down on her side of the bed and gets in, “guess who got her period on her first day of work?”

“No?” He gasps, playing along with her playful mood. “At least you’re not pregnant.”

“Thank god,” she sighs, “please for the love of God, don’t get me pregnant for at least 5 years? I want a decent career first so that I don't miss much on maternity leave. I really don't want to be benched for having kids.”

He cries again and she looks so concerned as she gets out of bed and wraps her arms around him, “what did I say wrong, Spencer?”

Still facing the wall, he just lets it all out, “I’m sorry.”

“For what, sweetheart?” She attempts to soothe him by running her hands down his arms, “for crying or something else?”

“Crying,” he whispers and she turns him around then.

“Hey,” she looks up at him with the softest expression he’s ever seen, “you are allowed to have emotions, you are allowed to show them and ask for help and tell me when you need something. I’m not going to think you’re too much, or I can’t handle you or think of you as a burden. I know that’s how you feel because it’s how I fell, and we don’t need to go through that together.”

“I love you,” it’s the only thing that feels right to say.

“I love you,” she repeats it, “what made you cry?”

“Can we get in bed first?”

“Yeah, finish getting ready and then come tell me,” she whispers before reaching up and pressing a kiss to his lips.

He slips away to go to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He’s exhausted but he doesn’t want to miss any time with her. He hurries back to her side, getting into bed in his underwear and making sure both his phones are on the night table, charged and ready if they need him.

But until then, he belonged to her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?” It’s the first thing he asks because he knows she has a big day tomorrow. “It can wait.”

“What’s that thing you say about intermittent sleep is actually better?”

“Don’t use my words against me, I do that so people don’t stop me from doing what I think I deserve,” he’s truthful. “I’m not going to ever lie or fib to you again. I hate myself, and if I don’t feel like I’ve done enough I won't sleep or eat sometimes.”

“I do that too,” she’s not proud, “are you trying to tell me you cried cause you’re hungry or tired?”

“No,” he smiles, “but thank you for asking for clarification, I like this new system.”

“Me too.”

“I cried because I really love you and I’m realizing this is all real and I’m going to get to make good memories with you, and when you said kids, even in a hypothetical sense, it made it feel real for me,” he whispers the words before pressing his lips together awkwardly.

She glows in the lap light like she did that first night, “it’s a weird concept, isn’t it? The future. At some point I’m going to have known you longer than anyone, one day we’ll have lived with each other longer than we’ve lived apart. We might be grandparents together one day? It’s all weird to think about.”

“Do you seriously want all that with me?” He’s asking because he has another question to ask right after.

“Yes, Spencer,” she laughs. “I really do.”

“Would you like to Marry me?”

“Seriously?” Her eyes widen and her jaw drops and he’s never seen her look this stunned before.

He nods, “my mom isn’t going to able to appreciate my wedding the longer I wait, and if you really mean it; I’d like to have a wedding with my mom there while she remembers me.”

“I know her birthday is coming up, but can we bring her here instead?”

“Why?”

“My parents decided to drive from Salam to here for my graduation and use the flight money on a nice Airbnb for the week. We should do it while they’re all here because I don’t know when they’d be able to come back,” she has had the same worries about her parents missing her life.

“I’ll ask my mom,” he smiles. “So we’re getting married?”

“in like a week,” she laughs, “oh fuck, how are we going to do that in a week?”

He rolls over and grabs his personal phone, he dials a number and she looks even more confused now.

“Hey Penelope, how fast can you plan a wedding?”

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@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @idonotexiste @measure-in-pain @dreams-in-blxck @doc-padfoot @nomajdetective @xoxomgg @mggswhorificlover @dinonuggets1967 @Meganskane @gubeskneescrew

New Romantics:

@bunny-script @ficsrecsforhrnybitches @ne--yo-pets @rexorangecouny @valerieweasley @beepbooptoop @coldlilheart @andiebeaword @anonymous-reading

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #new romantics

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astranva · 4 years ago

Text

Reason To Hate You.

// masterlist //

Word Count: 5k

Category: Angst

Warning: Some strong language, as usual. Just angsty. It’s good for the skin and some soul cleansing.

Summary: He loves her, but has no time to show it even when she asks him to. But she’s had enough, and Harry writes a song.

Based on Reason To Hate You by Rhys Lewis.

You were sure when Harry sang “comfortable silence is overrated” he wasn’t joking, because maybe your boyfriend appreciated the uncomfortable silence more, or at least he had been showing so.

Familiarity was out of the window when it came to the both of you, because that would be an understatement. Your friends and families had joked about it for the one year and 7 months of your relationship, about how you were one soul in two bodies, how alike you and Harry were and how the differences completed one another.

You knew when he was stressed, sad, nervous, even when he was a combination of every emotion there is and it had always assured you that he, too, knew you like the back of his hand.

One look at you and he’d offer the best support; let it be a shoulder to cry on, a celebratory dance, or a shared cup of blueberry yogurt.

But quietness had barged in like an univited guest, one you weren’t ready for and the more you thought about it, you would have never been ready for it.

Empty was one word to describe it; the bed, the kitchen, the living room, the balcony, the house, the trips to the grocery’s – the relationship.

It began around the time of Fine Line’s release. Biting back your tongue, you had managed to not feel small whenever you listened to all the tracks on there that Harry had on his ex, especially the one that had his ex talking at the end of.

But Harry had showered you with love and assurance, telling you that he couldn’t believe he had ever lived without you by his side and how he had never felt this sort of love with anyone.

You, too, had showered him with affection and the undivided pride you felt for him, making sure all your friends and family purchased the album, playing it at all times, working online so you could accompany him to some of his press because he needed you there with him.

“Mom’s birthday is coming up. I think we should get her that dress she talked about last time, remember it?” You had asked one night as you lied in bed, eyes on your boyfriend as he moisturized his face while standing in nothing but his boxers.

Harry glanced at you before looking back at the mirror one final time before walking to the bed, “I don’t, no.”

“The Marc Jacobs o-“

“When is it?” He rushed, getting under the cover, turning away from you before turning his head back to look at you.

Your lips parted before closing again, before you replied. “Friday.”

“This Friday?” And at your nod, Harry pursed his lips, “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t make it. Have a meeting all day to talk about tour.”

“But H, you knew about this for two weeks.”

“I did?” Sheepishly, Harry asked.

You slumped before shaking your head, “It’s alright. I’ll just tell her you had an emergency or something.”

“You do that.” He nodded, reaching behind him to give your thigh a squeeze, “Get whatever gift you want, pay with my card.”

You didn’t reply, watching as he let his head down on his pillow, back to you as he got comfortable, the only light in the room coming from the lamp on your bedside table.

On the day of your mother’s birthday, you remember the halfhearted smile you offered to her when she asked you where Harry was,

“Says he’s really sorry. Family emergency, but this is from the both of us.” And then you had given her the neatly wrapped present, a card attached to it with a birthday message from you and Harry, only that it was only you who had written it because Harry was up and out of the house the minute you opened your eyes that morning.

And then it happened, again, and again, and again,

and some more.

“Good morning,” you had smiled at him one morning, watching as he rubbed his face before he approached you, capturing your lips in a kiss that had the butterflies in your stomach cheer and dance, “How did you sleep?”

“Fine, love. What about you?” He smiled tiredly, hands on your waist and chin on your shoulder from behind as he watched you flip the cheddar cheese and omelet toast on the pan.

“Great.” You smiled when you felt him rub your skin from over your nightgown with his fingers. You turned off the stove before turning, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, leaning to peck his lips, “Hey, I know we always get Chinese takeout for our Sunday night date but how do you feel about Thai?”

And instantly, Harry tensed, guilt already taking place on his face and the smile on your face faltered at the change of demeanor, “Y/N, I’m sorry, lovie, I can’t make it tonight.”

“What? Why? We never skip on our Sunday night indoor date.”

It was a ritual you and Harry were devoted to since the very beginning of your relationship, and not once had neither of you flaked on it, always having plans around it but never during it because it was when the both of you would kick your heels up, pig out, watch a movie, talk, and just get ready for the start of another week.

“Told you I’m going to Miami for a few days to meet with the director for Watermelon Sugar, baby.”

“You’re travelling?” You frowned, “You never told me.”

Harry paused, eyes going slightly big before he looked away for a moment before looking back at you, “I’m sorry. It must have slipped out of my mind with how hectic everything has been.”

You didn’t reply, suddenly feeling a tad uncomfortable with your position which had you remove your arms from around him and turn, holding the pan and moving out of his grasp to put the toast on his plate.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. It’s just my job and I can’t reschedule.”

You sighed, feeling as if your heart strings were being tugged at. Nevertheless, you managed to give him a small smile. “It’s alright, H. I understand. You gotta do what you gotta do.”

To be honest, if anyone had a say in this, they’d say Harry took advantage of how accepting you were, but you would never. You would never say – nor admit – that he was taking advantage of all your “I understand”s and “I get it”s, because you knew he was busy. You knew he loved you. You knew it, until you weren’t so sure anymore.

Standing in the corner of Adam and Emi’s living room, you sipped on your Sprite as you watched people from Harry’s band and those behind the album mingle, your boyfriend standing out of earshot but in front of you, conversing with Tom – Kid Harpoon – and Naomi, his hands moving around as he talked which made you smile a little.

“Why are you standing here all lonely?” You felt a nudge to your shoulder before you looked beside you, seeing Sarah leaning on the wall beside you.

You shrugged, “Just watching.”

“You never texted me yesterday after your date. How did Harry react to your dress? Did you end up wearing the white sh-“

“We didn’t go.”

“-oes? Or- Wait, what?” Sarah frowned.

“We didn’t go on the date.” You repeated, avoiding her eyes by looking down at the small soda bubbles in your cup.

“Oh,” Sarah’s shoulders slumped, taking notice of your gloomy mood, “Oh, um,” she cautiously looked at you, “You were dressed.” She mumbled with a frown, genuinely sad for her friend.

You chuckled, putting your weight on one leg, “So was he, but we had different intentions, I guess. He had a meeting with Jeff.”

“Y/N…” Sarah, with a frown, offered a hand of support on your shoulder.

With a small, very fake smile, you looked at her and shook your head, “It’s alright, really. He’s been busy with tour and the press and all that.”

“Doesn’t make him less of an arse, you know?” She raised an eyebrow.

You only chuckled, looking down at your shoes, “Don’t worry about it. Hey, at least I got to watch that show you’ve been bugging me with.”

You were patient; something many of the people you knew in your life always praised, some even were in disbelief at how patient you were with the shit life threw at you. Like that one time your laptop lagged in the midst of your presentation at uni and instead of freaking out, you remained calm, collected and patient, and it was why you ended up acing that presentation.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t feel like crap, because you did.

Since communication was key, you had decided to do just that – communicate. Harry was better than you when it came to confrontation. For a long time, you had trouble with approaching anyone and telling them that things weren’t fine, but as yours and Harry’s relationship blossomed, you learned to.

It was why you had decided against going to bed early one night and opted to stay and wait for Harry’s return, knowing that it was the only time you would be able to see him with how tight his schedule had been.

In a crewneck of his and plaid pj pants, you sat on the couch with a cup of green tea in your hands, watching a talk show that you mentally criticized as shit in your mind before you heard the click of the door.

Taking a breath to steady your heartbeat and breath, you put aside your tea before you clutched your hands together, cracking your knuckles nervously as you heard the sound of Harry’s home sliders against the floor.

His face showed confusion at the light being turned on, knowing that by that time, you usually slept, but he saw you sitting there, too in your head as you looked at your fidgeting hands to notice that he was a few steps away.

“You’re still up.” He stated in surprise, watching your head snap to look at him.

“Um, yeah,” you nodded, “Was waiting for you.”

Unknowing why, Harry smiled to himself as he approached you, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple, “Yeah?”

You nodded, “Can we talk?”

And then his smile slightly faltered, eyebrows furrowing in slight worry before he sat. “Are you alright?” His hand reached up to brush your hair.

You hated how loving he was that moment, how he made you feel. How he showed you care when he was there for a few minutes, but you hated how he had trouble showing you that by making time for you.

“Harry,” you began and he immediately felt like shit because you rarely use his name, “Are you ever not going to be busy?”

“What?”

You felt stupid, not knowing how to articulate how you’re feeling but gave it another go anyway. “It’s just that, you’re never here anymore. It’s always the album, meetings, press, and when it’s none of those, then you’re out with your friends-“

“Is this about me cancelling that date?”

And you knew he was starting to get defensive and you made note that you hated that, too.

“Which one?” You asked tiredly before sighing, turning fully to look at him, “I’m not asking you to choose between me and your job, your life, but I’m just asking you to make time for me. I just feel out of place, Harry, and it sucks.”

“You know this album is important to me, everything about it.”

“And I absolutely love all that for you, I’m so proud of you,” you held his hands, “I just miss you, that’s all.”

“But Y/N, that’s-“ Harry let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a moment, “That’s my job.”

“It’s not your job to cancel on our quality time more than twice to be with your friends, all of whom you see everyday.”

“I see you everyday.”

“Seeing me when I’m sleeping or kissing me goodbye is hardly anything, Harry.” You said gently.

He contemplated it, staying silent for a few moments as he looked down at your joined hands. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just, make time for me, for us – please?”

You had kissed then, almost like a promise, and for the first time in a long time, you cuddled.

You wished you received enough assurance that he was trying, wished to see it, but it seemed like too big of a wish to come true.

You had a career of your own, one you were proud of and worked hard for, so when one day your boss asked you to their office to break the news of your promotion, your smile might as well have resembled a painted one like the Joker’s, from ear to ear.

Your colleagues had cheered for you, even interns approaching you to tell you that you deserved it, and they had all decided that a celebration was due. While they were planning for the celebration, deciding that it would take place at a nearby pub the following day as it Saturday and Friday was a good day to recover from hangovers, you took out your phone, composing a text to Harry.

‘H, please be home early tonight. Big news! 🥳 Love you!’

“You sure you don’t want to join for a quick drink? You earned it.” Your colleague Mariah asked as she walked you to your car.

“I’m sure. You go have fun and we’ll meet tomorrow.”

“Hey, tell your boyfriend to tag along!” She said as she waved before leaving.

That day, you went back home, showered and changed before cooking a nice meal for yourself and Harry.

You had checked your phone multiple times, checking if you might have missed a response or missed a call but granted, your phone only notified you of few congratulatory messages from people in your workplace and your family’s Whatsapp group after you had shared with them the news, none from the one person you longed for.

When the clock struck 8 that night, you found yourself grabbing your phone, tapping on it until you were calling his phone. One missed call, you called again and that time, he answered.

“Baby, I’m in the middle of something.” Harry rushed.

“What is it?” You found yourself asking.

“Mate! You fucking cheated!” You heard him laugh, sounds of different people in the background, “Don’t wait up, yeah? I have to go now. Love y-Wait, I’m coming!” And with one final laughter from him – a sound you had always loved and cherished but that moment, it only made you feel like crying – he hung up.

You stared at your phone, eyes stinging and nears getting itchy, swallowing the lump in your throat before you angrily tossed the phone onto the couch before walking to the kitchen to eat your share of the food. No way in hell were you going to sleep sad, angry, and on an empty stomach.

You hated how small you felt, how you felt unwanted in his world. It wasn’t like you wanted much either, just some time.

It was why the following morning as you got ready for your day at work, you might have loudly closed a drawer or two before looking over at Harry’s sleeping figure.

Huffing as you looked into the mirror while adjusting your top, you were unaware to Harry stretching and rubbing his eyes before you heard him.

“Good morning, love.”

Your heart raced, turning instantly to look at him. You tried to smile but when that failed, you turned back to give yourself a final look before grabbing your bag, mumbling a halfhearted “good morning.”

“Leaving early?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I want to grab donuts before I go.”

Harry smiled sleepily, “You usually get them donuts when there is good news.”

“I got promoted.” You said, still avoiding looking at him as you walked towards the door, lingering by it before you finally looked at him, finding him looking at you with a grin.

“Really? Baby, that’s wonderful! Congratulations, Honey. You deserve this. C’mere.” And he opened his arms, making grabby hands at you.

That moment, you also hated how you couldn’t fight the urge to go to him because that was exactly what you did. You walked towards him, sitting beside him and letting him embrace you, peppering kisses on your head.

“I’m proud of you.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around him as you closed your eyes. “You are?”

“Of course. Always am.”

You smiled, nuzzling your head into his neck.

Harry wasn’t dumb – he felt it. You missed him, and he, too, missed you. He just couldn’t seem to say no to all the plans that he was invited to – except yours.

“They’re celebrating me tonight. Do you want to come?” You said, and although it was a little muffled, he heard it.

“Tonight’s Steve’s birthday. Remember hi-“

“Oh my God.” You rolled your eyes, pulling away from his embrace, shaking your head at yourself before letting out a chuckle, “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Why? What did I- Y/N, you know I can’t miss it. Steve has helped a lot with the album, it wouldn’t be right.”

“He helped with-“ You laughed bitterly, “Right, and I have never helped you with anything. Nothing at all.”

“Don’t take it like that, Y/N.” Harry huffed.

“I’m not taking it like anything, Harry. It doesn’t matter. Don’t wait up. Oh wait,” you stood, giving him a sarcastic smile, “You never do.”

And with that, you were out.

Any other time, you probably would have felt guilty. You would have felt like running back into his arms the moment he opened them. Only, he hadn’t called you, nor had he opened his arms.

There you were, sitting on a stool at the bar as your friends danced and drank, sulking with an untouched cocktail glass, staring at the door every time someone walked in.

But 7 became 8, 8 became 9, and before you knew it, you had driven one of your very drunk colleagues home at 12 and you were back home at 12:30, too sober for your own liking. That was a pathetic celebration, you thought.

You weren’t sure why but the moment you stepped foot inside your shared home with Harry – it was initially his but by the 12th month of your relationship, he had asked you to move in – you couldn’t stop the tears.

Ugly sobs broke the silence in the house, your body shaking with the extra weight of emotions it carried for months.

Maybe it was because even then, Harry wasn’t home and surely, he wasn’t beside you as your friends celebrated a big event in your life. Maybe it was because you received a notification that Harry had posted to his close friends story list on Instagram, the story being him holding his phone with the front camera, Harry singing along to a Queen song with Alexa Chung as she had one arm around his shoulders, her other hand holding a cup that resembled the miserable cocktail you had earlier to celebrate yourself.

But you were packing a suitcase.

You were neatly folding some of your clothes in it, putting some of your undergarments in the zipped-up area. You hadn’t bothered to quit crying, you figured that you owed that yourself.

One thing Harry didn’t expect to return to was to see you out, closing your car’s trunk as you stood in your black sweatpants and a grey hoodie, comfortable sneakers on your feet and your hair left with no hairbands or as much as a clip as if you hadn’t bothered to do anything with it.

Quickly parking and turning off his car, his eyes had glanced at the time quickly, finding it reading 2:21AM. Harry was quick to get out, noticing your movement to your driver side halt as you heard so.

“Where are you going?” He asked as he approached you, feeling worried and scared as he stared at the back of your head as you were yet to turn.

But you did, and Harry found himself staring your puffy eyes, tears in clouding the color he loved too much and his heart broke.

“I’m leaving.”

If it was possible, his heart would have beat its way out of his chest.

“L-Leaving wh-where? What?”

You sniffled, wiping your eyes with your sleeve, “I’m leaving, Harry. I’m done.”

“Y/N, baby,” he cooed, stepping closer, “Let’s talk, alright?” He gently put his hands on your arms, only to have you shrug them off, breaking his heart even more and causing a lump to form in his throat.

“No! We’re not going to talk, Harry. I’m done talking. I’m done waiting. I’m done being alone in this fucking house – in this- this fucking relationship!” You cried.

“Baby, please,” his jaw clenched as he tried to control his breathing and to push back the tears, “Y/N, please. Don’t do this.”

You shook your head, “I gave you everything. I tried everything and it’s just not working. I’m done giving, Harry. Please, just understand.” You stepped closer to him, cupping his face, “You’re never here for me anymore and I’m done holding on to the ghost of you.”

“What can I do? Anything, please,” his nose reddened, eyes going tearful as he was just about to melt in your hands, watching you shake your head, “Please, lovie, anything.”

“I’m done.” You whispered in the midst of a sob, leaning forward to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “I tried.”

And with that, you got into the car before speeding off, leaving Harry standing there, his heart seeming to wave him off as he watched your car disappear.

He was shit.

He had tried to contact you, even tried to visit you at your work only to get told that you were taking a few days off.

He messaged you everyday for 3 weeks, called and left voice notes.

His friends felt bad for him when they knew, but they felt worse when he broke down one day when his band visited to check up on him,

“If only I wasn’t part of all of this! If you didn’t drag me into all of this shit, she would have still been here! Right here in her fucking home with me!”

“Hey! You got no one to blame but yourself. You’re the one who decided to blow her off every time, even when Mitch and I asked you about her and gave you an earful so don’t fucking put the blame on anyone but yourself, Harry!” Sarah had knocked some sense into him, “I love you and all, but this is all you and whatever will happen next will be you. Don’t wait for anyone to pick up your mess because it’s about time you act and show her you love her.”

He deserved that.

Harry had tried countless of times, visited your old apartment only to face an old man holding a puppy who had no idea who you were.

He found himself sitting in his studio one night – where he slept because he couldn’t bring himself to sleep in your bedroom – his journal perched up as his pen worked on it. It was like he didn’t need to think about it, he went on auto-pilot and before he could realize it, he had written a song.

You weren’t any better. 2 months later and you were still avoiding his calls. It didn’t help that you got another phone and number but kept your old one, only to know that he still remembered you and you felt pathetic for it.

His fans were bombarding you with questions on yours and his whereabouts, saying that you’ve been inactive for way too long and it wasn’t like you to not interact with them, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t pretend that everything was fine when it wasn’t.

By the 3rd month, you began to go other places than your workplace.

You met up with 2 of your friends, giving them short answers and “yeah”s as they talked. With your mind being somewhere else, you unlocked your phone and opened Instagram, checking your explore page.

And there it finally was; a picture of him. His beard and moustache had grown, untrimmed and messy as his hair. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, yellow sweatpants and a grey hoodie worn along with his running shoes while he walked.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you opened the photo, checking the caption to read it;

‘Harry out a few minutes ago!’

As fresh as your favorite home baked pastries this photo was. Your eyes moved from him to the shop behind him, zooming with your fingers before letting out a gasp.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” One of your friends asked.

“I have to go.” You quickly said, slinging on your bag before you shot out of your seat and outside, frantically looking left and right before walking towards the shop you had seen in the picture.

You didn’t even know what you were doing. Hell, you shouldn’t have been doing that, looking for him like that.

You panted, reaching up to place a hand on your rapidly beating heart as you stood in front of the shop.

God, you felt stupid.

“Y/N…”

You heard it, then you felt it; his hand, gentle on your shoulder.

You turned, coming face to face with the man you had sworn up and down was the love of your life – and you knew he still was.

He snatched off his sunglasses, as if they played a trick on him but they weren’t because you stood right there.

“You’re here.” He breathed out.

Harry’s green eyes were staring into yours, hand still on your shoulder.

At the feeling that rushed through you; one that made you feel that one more minute and you would be in his arms, kissing him and going back home with him, you slowly shook your head. “I have to leave.”

“No, please, please, a minute. Just a minute.” Harry pleaded with wide eyes, desperation in his voice.

“If I stay for one more minute, I won’t control myself. Please let me go.” You closed your eyes as you spoke softly.

“I can’t.”

“You can. You did it more than once.”

One final jab to his heart, you turned, rushing to cross the street before getting in your car.

The news of a sudden single drop was everywhere.

Friends and family texted you to ask if you had heard the song, most asking you to “please talk it out with Harry, he seems really sorry.”

Your coffee, sat waiting for you as you read the wave of tweets that crashed on you from fans, most of asking you what your friends and family asked of you, some others apologizing on his behalf, some others questions if the song was about you to begin with, and some others giving you shit for “breaking Harry’s heart.”

You were quick to click on a YouTube link that was attached to a tweet of a fan reacting to the song, sitting up straight and suddenly feeling nauseous as the screen changed.

Harry Styles – Reasons To Hate You.

Your stomach dropped as you saw him. In a white tee and black shorts, his hair was held back with your light blue clip while he sat in a chair behind his mic in the comfort of your home studio, holding the black guitar you had gifted him for his 26th birthday.

“Can you just lie to me

And ruin these memories

'Cause I've gotta forget somehow

So I'm begging you, burn us to the ground,” Harry sang as he played the guitar.

“Cause I know it's over

But I don't know what to do

So help me get over

Help me get over you,”

With no intentions to stop the tears, you let yourself cry, reaching up to stifle a sob by putting a hand to your mouth.

“And tell me you love somebody else or something

Or say you've been unfaithful to me

'Cause I need a reason to hate you, a reason to let you go

A reason to move on 'cause without one I know I won't

So tell me you love somebody else or something

Or say you've been unfaithful to me.”

He had looked up to his camera, and as he did, you felt like he was physically there and singing for you.

“Where do we go from here?

Do you just disappear?

'Cause I don't think I can be your friend

When it feels like the break isn't gonna mend.”

You stopped questioning your moves, and as proof, you had no idea what you were thinking when you grabbed your car keys and bolted out of the studio apartment you had rented, the song still playing.

“'Cause even after all this time, I'm hoping I can change your mind

'Cause hope's the only open door left to choose

So let me out for good because I know that I'm not strong enough

To stop myself from feeling things for you

So don't give me the truth.”

And you drove to him, right back to your home.

The song had replayed itself 4 times before you were finally out of your car and rushing to the door, ringing the bell and knocking, cursing yourself for forgetting your keys back at that apartment.

The door opened and there he stood, in the same clothes with the same clip holding back his hair.

Harry didn’t have time to comprehend before you threw yourself at him, crying into his chest.

“You’re such an asshole.” You cried, “How can you release something like that, you shit?”

He held on to you, hiding his face in your hair as he took you in.

“Next time, even an album won’t bring me back, you understand?” You mumble, feeling his arms tighten around you as he kissed your head then shoulder.

“There won’t be a next time.”

#wellbeafinelime #reason to hate you #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fiction #harry styles angst one shot #angst #angst imagine

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andallthatmerrymishigas · 2 years ago

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Rules: Tag 10 people you want to get to know better!

Tagged by @emma-hahn and @corasorangejuice (omg you guys, thank youuuu! I loved getting to read your posts!)

Favorite time of the year: Autumn for sure. I love the sunny days and the brisker weather and HALLOWEEN and I just love the pre-holiday time when we have the anticipation and the trees start to change but it’s not too dark or too cold yet and it’s just perfect. We are almost getting to spooky season and I cannot wait.

Comfort foods: Macaroni and Cheese is my favorite food of all time, particularly the deluxe four cheese from Kraft and I add a little bit of truffle salt to it. Other comfort foods for me are my mom’s ground turkey tacos and the grilled ahi tuna my dad does on the barbecue with the sauce my mom makes (sesame teriyaki with wasabi and sour cream all melted and magnificent)

Do you collect anything? I used to collect miniature snow globes and now I collect magnets whenever I travel. And I don’t think books count as collecting but I live in a studio apartment and I have 3 enormous bookshelves and I need another one so maybe that counts. Oh and I low key collect makeup products but I use all my insane shit so...

Favorite drink: Red wine probably. But I love an old fashioned or other classic whiskey cocktails or a fruity vodka cocktail. I mostly drink a lot of water day in and out.

Favorite music artists: Oh man okay get ready for a paragraph that no one will read. I was raised on the big-voiced divas. Barbra Streisand is the deity to whom I pray. Celine Dion and Whitney Houston and Julie Andrews are how I learned how to sing when I was younger. Bette Midler is deeply important to my soul, as is Cher (I basically have the taste of a middle-aged stereotypical gay man, it’s fine). Liza Minnelli and Judy Garland and Patti LuPone. Love a big belter. And then if we get away from the showtunes and divas, I love almost anything from the 60s, especially Herman’s Hermits, The Beatles and all those fabulous Motown artists. Peter, Paul and Mary and Patsy Cline are deep loves of mine. Jim Croce (another reason for me to love Jim Hopper, he’s a Croce fan). And then of course we have my all time favorite bands, ABBA and Fleetwood Mac. Deep love of jazz standards singers, especially Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra (my whole family were jazz musicians so I was raised on Sarah Vaughn and the whole Rat Pack). Also why I have such a love of Sadie and the Hot Heads and Michael Buble. Modern artists I love are Taylor Swift, Beyonce, Ed Sheeran, Walk the Moon, Lizzo, Lil Nas X, Sugarland, Michael Buble, P!nk, Miley Cyrus, Maroon 5, Lady Gaga, Kesha, Imagine Dragons, Florence + the Machine, George Ezra and uhhhh I’ll stop it there I guess.

Current favorite songs:

(not gonna link them because I’m running late right now so here’s just five songs off the top of my head that I really love)

Back to Before by Patti LuPone (original from Ragtime performed by the amazing Marin Mazzie but I just am too obsessed with Patti’s voice)

Leaving on a Jetplane by Peter Paul and Mary (my favorite song of all time)

Mamma Mia by ABBA (has become my go-to karaoke song because I sing it really well and it’s just so fun and people love it lol)

Daylight by Taylor Swift (created an entire AU crossover fic just so I could use the lyrics in a couple chapters and this song just hits my soul real deep)

Rainbow by Kesha (”what’s left of my heart’s still made of gold” is a lyric that came to me at a very hard time in my life and it makes me cry whenever I even say it out loud and it’s very important to me)

Favorite fics: (again not linking because I don’t have time but you can find them all on ffn) Galway Girl by @rahleeyah (Spooks AU fic that changed my life and I think about it at least once a week), A Messy Kind of Love by rahleeyah (Doctor Blake fic that is the reason Leah and I became friends and one of the most impactful things I’ve ever read and also changed my life), One Fine Day by rahleeyah (Spooks AU fic she wrote for me and it’s everything I could have ever wanted), Dolce Notte and Calda Notte by @whatsabriard (Downton fics, the concepts of which have been in my head for forever and I just cannot stop thinking about how magnificent the idea is), Heartlines by ladycobert (Downton fic so good I just didn’t work at all one day so I could read it and as soon as I finished it, I read it again), The Proper Way of Things by AndAllThatMishigas (my Downton masterpiece that I’m more proud of and had more fun with than anything ever), Forever In Your Arms by AndAllThatMishigas (Doctor Blake vampire Jean which is really what I want to be known for forever), Glances by AndAllThatMishigas (City Homicide story that is probably the most perfect canon/canon divergence story ever, if I do say so myself), After by AndAllThatMishigas (Spooks post-series story that truly just made me so happy to write and makes me happy to reread) and honestly I think that is enough.

Tagging: @blossom--of--snow @yesmadamepresident @callhimnowmarisamylove @featherpluckn @aboxfullofdarkness @doctoraliceharvey @whatsabriard @lovesclassicposts @margotgrissom @mandalamarigold

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rainbowxmisa · 4 years ago

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Could she be... What I've always been waiting for?

Michael Langdon has been a lot of things in his short life; a special boy, the chosen one, a delinquent, a warlock, the alfa, the supreme, the antichrist... But what he believed the most, is that he always has been a monster. Or at least, that's what everyone had made him believe his entire life.

When he arrived at the outpost 3, he still believed it. He was received with a lot of different glances; glances of fear, glances of curiosity, glances of malice… but when he looked at her, he saw a glance full of something entirely different from what he was used to; it was a glance full of kindness. And he wondered why he felt that she was so different from the rest of them.

From that moment, he started to feel curiosity towards her.

It was like she belonged to a different place, but at the same time, it was like she felt at total peace with her surroundings. Everyone at the outpost 3 was dying to get out of there as soon as possible; but on the other hand, she seemed comfortable where she was. Everyone was trying to please him to get a place at the Sanctuary, but not her.

At some point, he started to feel like some sort of magnetism towards her. It was like the universe was trying to tell him to get closer to her; to know her better. And he was happy to oblige.

They shared gazes in the corridors, always accompanied by a sweet smile from her, but it was on his second night at the outpost 3 when he finally chose to approach her. She was playing the piano, lost on that world that looked so entirely hers. He decided to sit on the stairs rather than the sofas to listen to the melancholic tune she was playing, not wanting to disturb her. He observed her, trying to understand why his chest felt so tight every time he glanced at her.

When the song was over and she was about to stand up, she noticed that she wasn’t alone. Her gaze found Michael and she smiled softly.

“Did I wake you up?” she asked concerned.

“Oh, no. Don’t worry about that. I was already awake.” he answered. “Can you play that song again?” Michael asked, approaching her.

“Of course.”

She started playing the tune once more, carefully, like she wanted to slow time with the music, and then, she was lost in her world again. With her eyes closed, she let her fingers roam the keys like they were a second skin for her.

Michael basked on her beauty; on the peace and tranquility she radiated. And in that moment, he wished that his life could be just like that; full of peace… just the two of them.

She played the last part of the song opening her eyes and looking at Michael, always with that sweet smile of hers.

“How’s the song called?” asked Michael.

“I love you.” she answered, making Michael’s heart drum on his ribcage like a thunder.

“Excuse me?” he asked confused.

“That’s the title of the song, ‘I love you’.” she said with a shy smile.

For a moment, Michael thought she was saying that she loved him, and for some reason, he liked the idea.

“Why aren’t you sleeping like everybody else?” asked him, trying to change the topic.

“I like the quiet of the night, even though you can’t know when it’s day and when it’s night inside here.” she said, smiling brightly.

That made him smile. And smiling with so ease was something he wasn’t used to.

He wanted her to rest, but at the same time, he wanted to know her better, and this was the perfect occasion.

“It seems like you don’t like to be surrounded by the rest of the people of the outpost.” he observed.

“I tolerate most of them, I think. But I’ve always liked to be on my own.” she answered, shrugging her shoulders.

Michael related to that, and he understood why she wanted to be on her own in a place like this.

“Then I understand why you roam the outpost like a vampire.” he said with a sided smile, trying to joke a little.

That made her laugh; and with that beautiful and jovial laugh, his heart started to beat faster and faster. He swore his heart never felt more alive until he met her.

“I like vampires, so I won’t complain about that.” she stated proudly.

Michael liked that she was so open with him, like she didn’t fear him like the rest of the outpost. She was like a ray of sunshine, even though he could feel that there was dark inside her, too.

“What else do you like?” he asked with curiosity.

“That’s a tricky question, because I like a lot of things. But I suppose there’s little left of what I used to like, except for one thing: books!” she claimed extending her arms to the big bookshelves that surrounded them.

“Then lucky you to have so many books to read. What books do you enjoy the most?” he was starting to feel that connection towards her growing and growing with each passing second.

“Hmm, I suppose any book with an interesting plot is more than enough for me.” she answered, pursing her lips.

“May I make you a recommendation?” he asked, approaching one of the bookshelves.

“Of course!”

He roamed one by one all of the bookshelves until he found the book he was looking for. He remembered each one of these books like his own hand; he was fond of the memory of this place when it was a school for gifted youngsters. He approached her again and gave her the book in question.

“I really enjoyed reading this book years ago, and I hope you will enjoy it, too.” he said with a little smile.

“What is this book about?” she asked, touching the cover with tenderness.

“Since you like vampires, I thought you may like this story. It’s a story of a vampire falling in love with a human. I don’t want to say too much, but it has a lot of romance and drama.” he explained.

“Sounds interesting, I like it already! I really can’t wait to start reading it, thank you, Mr. Langdon.” she said sincerely.

“You can call me Michael.” he stated.

“Then, thank you, Michael.” she said with a bright smile, embracing the book, and without knowing it; a piece of Michael’s heart, too, making him feel less like a monster.

On his third night at the outpost 3, Michael went back to the library in search of her, knowing very well he’ll find her there. And he wasn’t wrong. There she was in one of the sofas by the fireplace, reading the book he recommended to her.

“Are you enjoying the book?” he asked softly, sitting right by her side.

“I’ve been reading it for hours, I’m loving it!!” she exclaimed with joy.

“I’m glad to hear that.” he answered, proud of himself.

“It’s a beautiful story, but it’s so sad…” she said, looking to him so intensely that he felt her gaze on his very soul.

“What is so sad?” he asked, approaching her a little bit more, enjoying that intimate moment between them.

“That their love is condemned to death. Everyone sees the vampire like a monster, like a beast incapable of love. But they’re wrong. He is capable of love, he’s nothing but a good and caring lover to his future wife.” she explained, her words full of passion and anger.

Michael felt his heart ache with desire and longing. He wished intensely for her to see him like the vampire of the story; someone worthy of love.

“And what do you want to happen at the end?” he asked.

“That they could have a happy life, to prove everyone wrong.” she said with conviction.

Michael knew the end of the story, and he knew she was gonna be upset with it.

“Then better you keep reading it.” he said, feeling a little bit bold and opening his arms so she could be more comfortable reading. Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to cuddle a little bit with her.

Hearing her little sobs, he knew she was about to end the book.

“What's the matter?” he asked concerned.

“I can’t keep reading it.” she answered in tears.

“Why not?” he asked, rubbing her arm with tenderness.

“Because my heart hurts.” she explained with grief.

“I told you it was a drama, too. Do you want me to read to you the end?”

“Yes.” she answered, wiping away her tears and passing to him the book.

She cuddled more into him, trying to search more comfort.

Michael started reading with a soothing voice, feeling the quiet sobs of hers in his shoulder where she was hiding her face.

“The end.” he stated softly when he arrived at the end of the story.

“It’s so unfair.” she said so mad at the book.

“It is.” conceded Michael.

“Why couldn't they be happy? Why was it such a crime to fall in love with a vampire? The monster of the story isn't the vampire, it's the people that killed his wife just because they couldn't understand their love.” she said full of rage.

“I guess not everyone has a good heart like you to see that.” he said, caressing her cheek, feeling again his chest tight at the sight of her crying with her heart broken.

“Why everyone is so scared of you?” she asked suddenly, touching the hand that was caressing her cheek, looking right into his eyes.

“What do you mean?” he thought that this was the moment where everything ended; where she finally discovered the monster he was.

“Everyone after their interviews said you were evil, that something was wrong with you. But when I look at you, the only thing I see is someone, that like the vampire of this story, was misunderstood. Someone capable of love, wanting desperately to reach to that light buried inside of him.” she explained, approaching their faces a little bit more.

“And why aren’t you scared of me, too?” he asked, feeling their lips just millimeters apart, wishing she truly meant what she just said.

“Because since the first moment I arrived to this place, I knew I was meant to die, but after meeting you, at least I can do it knowing that you always treated me with kindness, and that I never saw the monster all of them talk about.” she explained with a smile.

Kindness. That was just what he felt about her the first time their glances met. And he really wanted to believe her.

“You’re not gonna die. Okay?” he assured her.

“And why are you so sure about that?” she asked.

“Because you’re coming to the Sanctuary with me.” he stated.

“But you still didn’t interview me.” she said confused.

“Do you think I need an interview to know I want to spend the rest of my life with you?” Michael asked, with their lips impossibly close.

“I don’t know, maybe you needed to know me more before.” she said, trying not to smile.

“We’ll have plenty of time in the Sanctuary to know each other more.” he said, joining finally their lips on a much desired kiss; a sweet kiss full of love and yearning.

After they lost the count of the kisses they shared, she started to feel a little bit sleepy. Michael carried her in his arms to his room. After undressing and getting into the bed, Michael refused to sleep. He used the time to caress her arm and her face with delicacy, basking once more in her ethereal beauty. Tomorrow will be Halloween, and after his plan will triunfaly work, they’ll have the rest of their lives to share in the Sanctuary, finding that peace that he desperately wanted. But not the light though, because the light he always searched inside of him, was lying just beside him.

She was the reason that made him truly believe he wasn’t a monster all along.

He was worthy of love; worthy of her love.

For the one's wondering what song was the Reader playing on the piano, is this one: 'I love you' by RIOPY I was highly inspired by this clip of Skam France where Lucas plays the same song: SKAM FRANCE EP.2 S3: Vendredi 19h34 - Surprenant

I really hope you all enjoyed this sweet and self indulgent story. Michael always deserved better :)

You can also read this story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30491691

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon headcanon #michael langdon fanfiction #ahs apocolaypse #american horror story apocalypse #american horror story #ahs #fanfic #fanfiction #romance #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #love at first sight #michael langdon fluff #outpost michael #outpost michael langdon #misa abadeer

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lvlyhao · 4 years ago

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『you’re dating him but he’s not your bias』

reaction fic; NCT Dream

A/N: this is nct dream’s reaction to realizing your bias is not him (and you’re a couple). gender neutral, got way too deep at some points and was NOT meant to be this long. enjoy.

note that english is my second language and i speak mixing slang, accents and spellings from 3283928 places so i did notice there’s practice written with both s and c down there so

just dont mind it pls

also, today’s photo theme is dream looking cute in low quality shots.

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: fluff (♡), angst (❆), comedy (☼), crack (⍢).

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: lots of swearing, my tough love for the neos, one mention of cheating that doesn’t actually happen, a couple of mentions of alcohol and drinking, some violence hidden in metaphors, me being chaotic, it got a bit more angsty and darker than i intended, but we do have all happy endings.

word count: 6.8K

pairing: nct dream members x reader ( includes mark, renjun, jeno, haechan, jaemin, chenle, jisung)

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Mark

oh, poor baby

i feel like he would be a little heartbroken

just a little

not so much if it’s someone from dream, because they’re his little brothers, but if it’s one of his hyungs from 127 or wayv,,,,,

boy might cry

he’s not super dramatic about it or anything but i don’t see him as being super confident about himself

so he might think like

“do they think he’s cooler than me?”

and it’s silly, yes, he knows

but it’s just something that pops up in his mind sometimes when you bring him up

so for the sake of this fanfic let’s pretend you’re johnny biased

because gods know i am

at least when it comes to 127

mark would be divided into fanboying with you and being like “YO, HE’S THE COOLEST GUY ON EARTH OH MY GOD I’M SO GLAD YOU AGREE”

and

“a h”

would constantly try to get closer to you when johnny is around, and just

showing off in little (kinda dumb) ways

complimenting you

being even more whipped than usual

like yes he’ll give you all of his watermelon slices just please don’t look at johnny like that again

i think johnny would kind of play into it with the whole “imma steal your s/o” thing

and he doesn’t do it to make mark jealous or hurt

we know he’d rather get hit by a train than ever actually upsetting his son on purpose

but we also know he’s johnny

cue “OH DUDE HE’S FLIRTING”

so yeah he might call you lil pet names (beautiful, cutie, you get it)

just to see you giggle

(and see your soul leave your body)

might say he’s taking you out for dinner when he’s just driving you to get more ice cream for a movie night with the gang lol

and winks

expect a lot of winks

anywhere and anytime

which makes mark sometimes feel like he’s intruding???

and that you appreciate johnny more than him???

he genuinely doesn’t understand how you can date him and still not have him as your bias

don’t you like, love him above everyone else or smth lol

his “showing off” phase eventually fades tho

now every time you hang you with the boys and johnny is around, he’ll be a bit more distant

he thinks he’s giving you space to interact with his friends but he’s just shying away from competing with one of his favourite people ever

and it’s a competition that Does Not Exist™

but he’s not 100% aware of that

and you’re not that dense

so ofc you notice

and you wait till you two are alone to talk to him, and he BEGRUDGINGLY admits that you being johnny biased makes him feel kinda small and unimportant

he’d never try to make you change your bias or anything

he just needs reminders that he’s your #1 boy sometimes

which is fine by you

and by him

cus now it’s you calling him pet names all the time

and hugging him

and kissing his cheek

and praising his work

and blowing kisses from across the room

and just telling him straight up that no matter what, you’ll always go to him

(not that you ever had any chance with johnny lmao)

THIS GOES TO SHOW COMMUNICATING IS KEY, CHILDREN

COMMUNICATE

Renjun

wym donghyuck is your bias lol

literally are you fucking kidding him

don’t get me wrong ok

everyone knows renjun loves haechan

they’re bffs and could not live without each other

but at the same time,,,

what is wrong with you

who did he choose as his s/o gods help him

if it was jeno, or mark, or jaehyun, or winwin, or kun, or lucas, or yuta, or taeyong, or ten, or,,,,

literally ANY of his other members

he’d understand your point and be like “ok fine”

but haechan???? hmmm bestie no

he’s not gonna throw a fit

not after the first time you told him anyways

HE WAS SURPRISED OKAY

and he just whined very loudly after having laughed for 5 minutes thinking it was a joke

if you don’t know that iconic scene, renjun had a whole ass meltdown in 3 seconds while yelling “aAAAAAH JINJJAAAAA” and getting ready to punch the living shit out of hyuck

for no reason other than the fact that it’s haechan we’re talking about and injun’s little body is filled with rage

BACK ON TRACK

would probably try to act all cool about it and be like “i don’t mind” but bruh does he mind

and it doesn’t help that haechan is such a little shit about it

he doesn’t even flirt with you

he just

constantly reminds renjun that he’s your bias—not him—and then constantly praises himself over you

“ah, y/n~ did you choose me as your bias because i’m the best vocalist? or was it because i’m the best dancer? mAYBE IT WAS BECAUSE OF MY OH SO BROAD SHOULDERS—”

(pause for injun to punch him)

(unpaused)

and ok in the beginning it was funny seeing him all worked up but now it’s just annoying to be in the same room as these two

haechan won’t let either of you live

and renjun just wants to

fight

so it eventually gets to the point where you’ll talk to renjun and jeno will talk to hyuck cus even the other dreamies are tired of it

except maybe for chenle, he always laughs his ass off when they start bickering

ANYWAY

your conversation goes something like “oh my god renjun i’m literally dating you, i don’t like haechan better or anything you little pile of fury”

while jeno sits hyuck down in front of him and jaemin and just

“bro why are you like this”

“bro”

no but renjun would apologize for going overboard with his protectiveness and jealous energy because he’s not generally like that

he’s angry all the time but never about something involving you, you know

he tries his best to treat you like the royalty you are

but something about hyuck being your bias makes him feel a bit like a castaway???

he’s very creative and as an artsy kid myself i know we’re very prone to feeling left out because we’re just different from the others

so he’d think maybe haechan really has a better voice

or better dancing skills

or he looks better

he is taller than injun after all, and has broader shoulders, and his hair is all fluffy and—

the whole thing just made him insecure about things he had settled with himself long ago

he was fine with being him

but not so much when it came to that

i don’t think you two would fight over it cus tbh i think renjun would really only get with someone who can be very understanding of him

and i think hyuck would actually apologize to renjun too

not when everyone’s around but like, maybe after dinner or something and he just needs to feel like they’re besties again

hyuck never meant for things to get out of control

he just really likes both injun and you as his friends, and aside from skinship his most prominent love language is,,,

teasing

he was really just trying (very poorly) to grow closer to the person his best friend loves so much—you—because renjun is SUCH a big part of his life it would just feel wrong to not be good friends with you as well

don’t tell them i said this but they hug it out

injun strikes me as someone that could take a bit of time to bounce back from something that hurt his pride or his sense of belonging

and his way of healing and bonding is just,,,

art

sure, keep being haechan biased, but also please read with him

and talk about his fantastic animal creations

and watch those buzzfeed unsolved alien theory videos because he really wants to discuss it and maybe even draw what he thinks the aliens look like

hyuck tones it down, you make sure renjun knows you like him for him, renjun starts to (secretly) appreciate hyuck’s talent along with you...

and now let’s take a moment to imagine the minute you watch their latest mv with injun by your side

and yes okay the first thing you see is CLEARLY how good renjun looks because holy fucking shit he’s an angel (and i’m clearly not renjun biased)

but then,,,,,,

wAS THAT A HAECHAN HIGH NOTE

(there’s always a haechan high note, just look for it)

and ok maybe he did scream a bit with you because of how good it all sounded

and you know what, it works out perfectly bc you two are my new otp and you were meant for each other

but we do have to mention the eventual happening of chenle saying like “oOoOoOoH y/N wErE yOu dRoOliNg oVeR hAeChAn AgAiN” after a special stage

and then you, injun and hyuck all attempt to choke him

i’m kidding

or not

Jeno

ah, lee jeno

aka samoyed boi

yes i do call him that no i will not stop

everyone is always writing jeno as being super protective and literally about to burst a lung if someone else ever does as much as look at you

but i just

don’t see him that way

he’s a taurus and from what i know about taurus they can be v v jealous, yes, but they mainly seek comfort

so he’s fine with you biasing jaemin

as long as you’re not ditching him or anything lol

and ok, imma be 100% honest here even if it sounds like literal no fun (jenojaem wink wonk)

jaemin doesn’t flirt with you

not any more than he flirts with

every other breathing creature

ever

he’s really only platonically interested in you, never remotely romantic or anything lol

on the other side, he is in love with jeno

basically, if jaemin is your bias, jeno is his

so nothing really changes

we know how nomin are, okay

they hold hands, they stare deeply into each other eyes, they nearly kiss at least once every time they go live

it's just them

you gotta respect it bruh

i know this is the most boring reaction ever so let’s create the one (1) instance where jeno would actually dislike that you bias someone else

i think he would feel a bit hurt if you seemed to be more supportive of jaemin’s work than his

and it’s not something big or on purpose

it’s just something like going with him to a recording session but not going with jeno because you have homework

or after a very busy practise day going to praise jaemin first

even if it’s just three words

“you did good”

and then you’re going towards him, he’s gonna feel like maybe he doesn’t deserve your praise as much as nana????

i actually feel like, among the dreamies, jeno is the least confident one when it comes to his performance

he knows he’s not an awful rapper or anything but i think it can be a bit too much, being around such bright and huge presences like the others while his nickname literally means “no fun”

his members are just so loud and full of energy most of the time

and sometimes he just really needs to be quiet and observe in silence

(yes i do know he’s chaotic and a crackhead, i’m just saying as we know he can be a bit introspective)

so what if you just

stopped seeing him?

did he become invisible to you?

did you finally fall for jaemin’s beautiful smile and stupid pick-up lines?

he’s not gonna let it show that he’s affected, though

earth signs are nearly always the ones to “stay strong” because we have this image that people are relying on us???

so we do what we do

bottle everything up and overwork ourselves bc we only got two modes

1. chill, super balanced and down to earth (ay for the pun)

2. please make us take a break we’re literally about to cry if we work for one more minute but we can’t allow ourselves to fucking take it easy

so yes you’ve guessed correctly, we’re going with 2

jeno is going to go so, SO hard on everything he does

literally every single activity you can think of from dance practice to photoshoots to cooking for the dreamies

he stays up later than usual to get that one tricky move in the choreo just right

he works out more because he thinks he has to look absolutely perfect for when they shoot the mv

jisung asked for ramen? he’s making it but you bet your ass he’s spending over 40 minutes just chopping so

many

vegetables

AND STUFF THAT JISUNG WON’T EVEN EAT

but he’s doing it anyway for the reason being that it just has to be the Best™

and it’s not like he’s competing with anyone else to be diligent

this is just about being better than he was and showing himself—and maybe you—how painstakingly hardworking and driven he can be

maybe then you’re gonna acknowledge him as much as you acknowledge nana :((

:(((((

writing this is making me downright sad, jeno is so underrated and unaware of his power UGH

and i need to point out this is NOT about making you change your bias from jaemin to him, this is solely about having you recognize his efforts, even if you already do

if you just thought jeno was like going off in work because it was asked of him to, jaemin would DEF notice and talk to you about it

turns out it’s a habit of jeno to go extra hard sometimes and he needs someone to make him take a break

so it goes down like you breaking into the practice room when jeno and jisung were practising

the first reaction is confusion

the second is oh hey babe how are you

third is

a-are you dragging jeno and his bag out of the door while screeching at jisung to order pizza and doughnuts for everyone??

yes you are and i’m proud of you

so jeno is still confused and making those cute “hUh” noises he does omg i love him so much

and you’re just rambling about how much of an amazing artist he is, and you love his voice, and he’s a fantastic dancer, and his expressions and gestures are on point, and he takes such good care of the dreamies and

he’s perfect

and he knows jaemin must have talked to you, and he feels so vulnerable to have you know how on edge he’s been

baby boy just needs some rest

and that’s exactly what you give him, with a bath full of those fancy bath bombs and flower petals and candles at your house/apt

then a quick sheet mask while you massage his shoulders and keep saying how much you genuinely admire him

the mask might be ruined cus he started crying out of exhaustion

after that’s been done and you’ve hugged for at least like 5 min nonstop, you head over to the dorms, where hyuck was in charge of setting up a blanket fort while mork and nana gather board games, jisung gets the food and chenle

well chenle just had to make sure jisung doesn’t forget to order for someone and doesn’t break like 10 plates trying to set the table lol

this is way longer than the others so imma wrap it up

make it obvious and loud that you see and respect jeno’s hard work and he’ll be alright again

and maybe make those game nights a weekly thing when possible, it would make him very happy

he’ll never again feel sad when you praise jaemin cus now he’s sure he does enough, and above all, he is enough

Haechan

haechan = full sun

why would you ever bias someone when you’re dating the goddamned sun

does not understand

but also does not care that much

actually, one out of two really depending on who your bias is

if it’s one of the members he has that tom/jerry relationship with, prepare for so

much

complaining

and clinging

AND HE’D BE SO LOUD OH MY FUCKING GOD

donghyuck please stop screaming about doyoung not deserving to be your baby’s bias, it’s 2 am

on the other hand, if it’s one of the (few) members he,,,

adores with all of his heart and is not afraid to show it

ex: sungchan, jaehyun, taeil and yang2x

then you can bet he’s going to be right beside you whenever you feel like throwing a fit because he’s just so handsome and talented

IF IT’S MARK OSHDISJD

i’m going to write you as being mark biased ok? ok

i honestly don’t know if he’d feel more jealous of mark or of you

he loves you both

a lot,,,,

and he really doesn’t like it when mark blushes when you compliment him

and he doesn’t like it when mark literally just walks past you and you trip over your feet because bro tf u doing, that’s some embarrassing shit

lowkey done with you two

but also PAY HIM SOME ATTENTION

or don’t, he’s fine either way (cue crossed arms and staring at you from across the room until you come give him a kiss)

“he’s pretty cute but i’m cuter right baby”

pouty pouty pouty if he ever feels neglected

will be so fucking annoying lmao i can’t write haechan, i love him but i do understand why renjun is always trying to beat him up

he’d be a show-off in a different way than mark because he can be so petty

will take every chance he gets to pull a one-liner

will sing everything he has to say just so you know he can hit those high notes

what do you mean dream doesn’t have a schedule today

oh man, he could swear they did

because that is the sole reason why he’s wearing his most expensive clothes and shoes + makeup to walk around the dorms, yes

no he doesn’t want to impress you

shut up

will text you like every single fancam he sees on twitter

every

single

one

and are they mark’s?

lol no, they’re his

he is so genuinely trying to make you a member of his sunflower cult

<whispers> “tell me i’m your bias”

“donghyuck what the actual hell why are you standing at the end of my bed in the middle of the night like a fucking demon child”

he really wants to act all cool and composed but he wants to be your bias so fucking bad

he’s a bad bitch all around and just does whatever

cus haechan privilege

and he tends to not care about what people say and think???

bc he knows he’s lee donghyuck

he’s fully aware of the effect he has on people

but you

not biasing him

naw, he can’t take it

will do anything and everything he can to make you say, JUST ONE TIME, he’s your bias

then you can go back to loving (his) mark

so for your sake, for his sake, for mark’s sake

just give donghyuck what he wants

i can promise he’ll keep being an ass no matter what you do

like yeah did you just buy him coffee and his favourite cake? well that’s sweet but iS HE YOUR BIAS YET

“aw babe thanks so much for taking a bullet for me but now please say i’m your bias”

if you still don’t do it, it’s time to be extra petty

will actually drop you for mark

his logic is something like: he can’t be your bias? pity, so he’s just gonna date him instead

and mark is mark so he has no idea what’s going on

everyone in 127 and dream finds this absolutely hilarious cus suddenly donghyuck seems to be doing his best to win over mark’s heart and i mean more than usual???? and he’s treating you like his bro????

<you leaving the dorms to go to uni or smth so you go to hyuck for a goodbye kiss> “no can do, i’m committed”

“i’m your partner”

“no that’s mark”

it’s not 100% a joke when i say i can see him getting down in one knee to propose to mark while making eye contact with you to

assert his dominance

and mark is just

“dude

what HAHAHA”

and you are so done, i’m so sorry you have to go through that bby

i don’t think there’s another way to fix haechan other than just admitting he was your bias for an era, or a comeback or something

like yeah with the other dreamies before him it’s bonding + healing time bc i wrote it all kinda angsty (lol sorry) but with donghyuck

“will you stop this if i say you were my bias during reload era”

“mark wasn’t in dream that era tho”

“yes i know”

i say he’s gonna take what he can get and now things can finally go back to normal

with the exception that something else comes along with hyuck being satisfied with you biasing him

he just has a full pass to fanboy over mark now too

what am i talking about?

new 127 mv is out

you: watching it beside haechan and going off about how pretty mark looks

him: going off even harder bc he’s whipped too

this is what a happy couple looks like

but now i pity mark because he has you two idiots fanboying over him irl

savemork2021

Jaemin

nana is just such a chill and fun guy

i can’t see him being actually jealous or anything if he finds out you bias someone else

and so the two of you become insufferable together

bitch, i’m telling you

he (ur bias) is not gonna have one peaceful day ever again in his entire life

cus you know the thing jaemin does where he just looks at someone doing some random shit and goes “oOoOoH sExY”

yes that thing

he’s doing it to your bias

and you’re doing it too

and your bias probably wants to run away to some very far away land

PLEASE IF IT’S JISUNG

i’m not gonna write this whole thing as if you bias him but let’s just imagine

two fully grown people

pilling on top of poor, poor park jisung playing games on his phone

“URI JISUNGIEEEEEE

MWOYA, MWOYAAAA~"

i genuinely think he would avoid being around you two at the same time

cus individually he can handle it

like yes y/n please let me go this hug has lasted for about 4 minutes now

or oh hi jaemin hyung my cheeks hurt when you pinch them that hard

but when you two are together

bruh

a power couple not bc you two are v confident or some shit but bc you can and will be extremely affectionate towards anyone that comes too close

and now let’s talk about how it would be if you biased jaehyun

jaemin loves jaehyun

they’re 2jae

2jae are soulmates

therefore,,,, it’s also kinda hellish but in a different way???

bc 2jae are on the end of that spectrum about the neos that know how in love the entire world is with them

they’re too powerful

they’re aware of their charm and they do everything they can to rub it in our faces

so the flirting between 2jae and you would be insane

and i mean insane

insane as in even johnny is kinda disgusted tbh bc

they’re doing a photo shoot with the 23 of them for some shit, idk don’t ask me

and of course, you had to tag along

but oh my god you three, please stop calling each other sexy/hot in weird voices now, the staff is staring

there are def rumours the 3 of you are a poly couple lmao

jaehyun denies everything on social media (throwback to saying “no way lol” when we asked if he REALLY slept in the same bed as jungwoo)

but every piece of content there is of you and jaemin or you and jaehyun or just them is so ridiculously flirty

you can bet there are compilations on youtube like

“y/n being in love with 2jae for 8 minutes heterosexual”

ok i was having way too much fun with that, moving on

i don’t think he’d ever be actually upset about you biasing someone else

he trusts you and treasures you a lot so he doesn’t see the problem in you also appreciating another one of his members

bc gods know he does

he’s a bit in love with everyone so why shouldn’t you be too lol

one time he would feel a bit blue because of it???

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

i think it’s possible he’d turn pouty or whiny or just kinda needy (not in a bad way, he just misses you) when he’s like

done with people

and needs some time away from everything

we know he’s an introvert, even if he acts very, very loud around the boys and it’s honestly just a matter of time until an introvert grows tired of being around humans

it depends on each person, of course, but there’s a 99% chance every once in a while he’ll start to feel too drained

and he’ll need a break to get his energy back

jaemin would probably want you around even when he feels like that, though

i see you being such a big source of comfort for him in a relationship

he enjoys taking care of people so please take care of him too

and for just this one day don’t talk about your bias that much, or don’t leave nana to go over to him to chat

and just cuddle him a lot

that will make him a smiley baby again

and then things are back to how they normally are

and by that i mean most neos hiding from you because they’re scared

i don’t have a lot to say aside from that so let’s think about the neos that would be the most intimidated by your shared thot aura

dotae would be confused in different ways lol

taeyong would be just ????????????blush/awkward smile/hahaha??????

and doyoung might actually ask what is wrong with you

<points to jeno and his s/o> “why can’t you be like them”

mark would laugh-scream and slap his knee into oblivion whenever you two are cornering him

but then go super shy and be like “dUDE DON’T DO THAT”

resident confident gay jungwoo would rejoice in the attention and make so many goddamned jokes

a literal comedian i love him

i think sicheng and renjun would be on the same wavelength of repugnance towards you lol

chenle would deadass call you weird and tell you to leave him alone

shotaro and kun might faint (or kun will panic-scold you)

taeil is as confused by affection as usual (have you seen the face he makes when haechan kisses him LMFAO he’s smiling but like wondering wtf happened on the inside)

ten is not very amused but might play into it

yangyang: that’s disgusting, man (cue flashbacks to that live with renjun after the from home stage where renjun pretended to lick his hand and slick his hair back,,, catboy injun,,, you know the one)

xiaojun and hendery are such panicked gays they just turn to stare at whoever else is around and make that “help” expression like they’re on the office

haechan is haechan, kinda doesn’t mind it

jeno is used to dealing with this at this point

lucas and yuta love the attention but while yuta will flirt right back lucas is just gonna smile and try to jop his way out of there while screaming

sungchan will go hide behind haechan and say “hyung they’re being dumbasses again”

this turned into ‘how would nct react to you and jaemin being super flirty together’ and i’m not sorry

Chenle

chenle is so fun to write i love him lmao

okay so

he doesn’t strike me as the possessive type with anyone other than jisung (bc i swear he can be a bit jelly towards his bestie but i think it comes with sungie being the sweetest bean ever, he’s just protective)

he’s such a ray of sunshine and witty jokes and dolphin laughter i love him

back to the plot

he literally couldn’t care less about you biasing someone else

b u t

i will say there’s an exception

this exception is tall, kinda lanky, very awkward and born on the 5th of february

you’ve guessed it, it’s jisung

i think most of the time he’d tease THE SHIT out of you for it because c’mon

you had 22 chances not to mess up

and you still somehow ended up biasing jisung? lol do better next time

and this is not me and chenle hating on jisung, please—

he’d just find it funny that your bias is his best friend and

hold the fuck up

your bias is his best friend

oH NO NO NO NO NO

i think after realizing that he would lowkey try to keep you two apart because he’s somehow jealous of both????

and if he can’t help it then you can bet your ass he will be screaming all along

it’s his sweet, dummy jisung

with his sweeter and dummier y/n

what is he going to do

probably has a mini-breakdown with kun because like he’s always wanted you two to get along bUT NOT LIKE THAT

kun will just sigh like the tired father he is and pet his back while saying “there, there”

and a genius idea is going to come to chenle’s mind

you know the teasing thing?

well it’s upgrade time

he’s gonna turn into such a try-hard with tmi and embarrassing shit you two have done

and he’s not trying to stop you from being friends

he just wants you to like

know who you’re befriending

bc i think since he’s really really close to jisung, he doesn’t want you getting closer to him bc you like his idol side alone

and he doesn’t want jisung getting close to you just because you’re his partner either

if you had high hopes for each other and ended up kinda falling face-first into the ground bc it was nothing like you had imagined—

he’d be so broken

because he loves you so much :((((

so like, if you can get past the teasing and annoying barrier he’s putting up, he’ll be more than happy to have two of the most important people in his life being buddies

so get ready for it

if you’re the type of person to go batshit crazy when you drink, oh boy, oh boy

so you and the dreamies are just having dinner when lele feels like it’s the perfect time to disclose some of your drunken adventures

“hey y/n”

“yeah babe?”

“remember that time you got really really drunk on vodka and candy and wanted to call your mom”

“chenle the hell don’t talk ab—”

“but then you tried using the microwave as a phone”

“...”

“or that other time you were equally as drunk and watched the make a wish mv and cried because you noticed the height difference between xiaojun hyung and lucas hyung”

yeah so now’s the part you get up to chase him around the dorms and try to land a kick

BUT WORRY NOT, HE’LL MAKE SURE TO EMBARRASS JISUNG JUST AS MUCH

he likes doing that when it’s just the three of you though

so picture this

movie night the girls boys

chenle would 100% pick the most terrifying horror movie he can find so that he could see jisung clinging to whoever’s closest to him

and then right before a jumpscare, he’d whisper like

“jisung”

“w-what”

“why don’t you do that thing you were doing while you slept last night”

(honestly, i’d be mildly scared if i heard lele say this with no context at all)

and then the jumpscare happens and jisung is nearly fainting and crying at the same time

but chenle is laughing

and trying to get out what he wants to tell you between wheezes

“he-he” <dolphin wheeze> “hE WAS SINGING CHEER UP BY TWICE WHILE SLEEPING” <more wheezes>

and look this is just gonna go on for weeks until you and jisung are over it

and stop being weird and awkward around each other

lele needs you two to be bros ok

so be bros

once you do adapt to being pals with your bias i think chenle would take the teasing down a notch just to make you more comfortable

and like he’s so happy now the three of you can hang out and there’s just no tension

happy chenle is the thing i love the most i swear to gods

and if you don’t adapt to it?

well,,,

i honestly think he’d be pretty disappointed, cus it means to him one of you isn’t ready to fully embrace the weirdness within????

and like what u scared of

jisung is a weirdo, what about it, so are you

either that or he’d think you’re maybe being judgemental

so yeah please accept jisungie and your dumbass boyfriend

then everyone can be besties

i love thinking about the three of you as just this hellbound chaotic trio

because chenji already wreak havoc wherever they go as the two of them

but now that you’re coming along,,,,

no neo would escape from your pranks ever again (and even members of other groups lmfao watch out sehun, i’m talking to you)

and it’s so incredible infuriating in a good way that it just turns to be endearing

you’re cute as fuck so no one gets actually mad with the shit you pull????

which is dangerous, someone should really keep an eye out on the three of you

we don’t need sm to be on fire

well we kinda do cus they’re pretty bad but not my point

i said somewhere above that chenle would tone the teasing down but i don’t mean he’d stop

bc c’mon guys

he’s chenle

no limits here

but sorry, i really cannot write jealous!chenle cus his heart is just too pure and filled with joy for him to be jealous for real

last scenario?

chenle after a comeback stage: ya y/n, i was gonna ask how was my performance today but you were probably more focused on jisung’s arms right

jisung is choking on water somewhere behind you

Jisung

it’s maknae time <plays i.n’s maknae on top>

i don’t mean to picture jisung as being like

ridiculously innocent or just downright naive because i really dislike it when people do that

he’s a literal 19 yo and jaemin himself has said he’s not as innocent as we think lol

however

i do see him as being quite new to all things love

i think you’d probably be his first partner and with first relationships comes a lot of other firsts

first kiss maybe, first time holding hands, first time being jealous….

first time being jealous, yes, focus on that

i don’t think jisung would be aware that like

you not biasing him is even a possibility

cuz you’re dating

doesn’t that come along????

ah poor baby i love him

if you biased chenle i think he’d be just

disgusted and weirded out but okay?? you do you i guess???

he’s comfortable enough with lele to not feel intimidated

but if it’s another member

ESPECIALLY one of the oldest ones

i think it would be a blow straight to his confidence

you biasing ten, kun, taeil, taeyong, doyoung or johnny and maybe yuta would make him feel a bit hesitant and concerned

his first thought would probably be that you don’t like being with someone as young as him

and who knows, maybe you’re even younger than him, maybe you’re the same age, but what if you actually like older guys??

what about him then???

and jisung doesn’t mean to feel so worried and insecure, ok, pls understand where i’m coming from

first relationships normally take like a very long time to build trust and acceptance of the other person’s feelings bc it’s literally a whole new world for you

and that goes extra hard for jisung because he is so fucking whipped for you it’s still hard to believe you like him as much

and it absolutely does not cross his mind that you’d cheat on him with your bias, GODS NO

he really respects you and his hyungs

so no, never

that’s not a thing that can happen

but you realize you’re too good for him and maybe see he doesn’t fit your ideal type?

well, yes, that’s what he’s thinking

probably goes straight to chenle or renjun (he talks about renjun so much asjahj) to vent and ask for advice

i think they’d be surprised to see what’s going on inside his pretty little head because it’s so obvious for everyone that you just adore jisung

and they do tell him that

however, i don’t think it would completely calm his nerves, and again, this has nothing to do with not trusting you

it’s just that

his hyungs are so cool…

HE CAN’T HELP IT OK

would probably try to mirror your bias (i’m saying it’s taeyong for the sake of what i’ve imagined ok) and like

grasp onto some of his qualities?

so in his mind taeyong is: nice, sweet, caring, amazing, perfect, smart, perfect, sexy, mature and did i mention perfect

i can see him trying some new rap styles that mimic tyong’s a bit???

like would lowkey learn his raps from cherry bomb and superm’s one and listen to recordings frequently to pick up on how taeyong does it

i think he’d also just change the way he acts in general to dodge a bit from his maknae image

so now he tries to speak with a more formal-ish language and learns random facts about things you like to seem more intelligent???

“good morning y/n, you look as beautiful as one of voiello’s paintings today :]”

“wait i thought that was a pasta brand”

he’s just trying to show you he can be mature and serious if you want him to

long story short, he’s not acting like himself (not that he’s childish, he’s just out of it) and you don’t like it, so you ask about it and wait for him to feel comfortable with sharing

when he does talk about it breaks your heart so much :((

you’re going to need some patience to try and show him you’d choose him, and not your bias, even if you had the chance

they’re completely different people and you love him BECAUSE he’s jisung, not for any other reason

please reassure him so he can go back to acting like his authentic self, i think it would be such a relief for him too

your words and affection are obviously enough for him, but if it ever happens that he feels especially low and insecure again, it would help if your bias talks to him too

and taeyong wouldn’t have a problem with it

actually, scratch that, taeyong probably knew what was going on all along

he just has that motherly 7th sense (ay) that is even more acute with the dreamies cus like

127 has him, wayv has kun, but dream has…

the dreamies

and that, my friend, is terrifying

anyway he’d come to talk to jisung asking like “what’s wrong buddy :(“ and sungie would be a bit ashamed because it sounds so silly when you say it out loud

of course tyong wouldn’t judge him, and he just really has to tell jisung what is it you and he are always talking about

it’s him

“when they come around to talk and hang out here it all goes back to you, jisungie. they can’t spend one second without mentioning your name

it’s so cute; it’s always like ‘oh jisung would love this’ or ‘jisung likes it that way’

so please be kinder to yourself and let yourself see that they’re in love with you, not with me and not with any other member they ever mention”

jisung would feel 10000000% better

and smiley

and giggly

and oh my god do you really talk about him that much

LOOK HE’S BLUSHING

would just go over to your house immediately and hug you, burying his face on your neck from behind you

and not let go

ever again

the whole situation just teaches him a lot about accepting your love for him and not questioning it

shut up i’m not crying

---

final notes: this was my first work after the humanity series and it was so fun lol i think next up is probs gonna be an ideal type scenario for ot23 (but if i really write it i’m gonna post it by subunit and its gonna be way shorter than this, don’t expect 23K words at once lmao)

if you’ve enjoyed this fic please consider reading my humanity series, which is a zombie apocalypse au with kun <3

334 notes · View notes

smtown-tourist · 3 years ago

Text

Year 4 - A Letter to You:

Sometimes it’s hard to forget that not everything SHINee does following your death needs to revolve around your death. When I learned the date of when SM would be releasing SHINee’s teaser photos for the New Year’s SMTown concert, I was appalled to see that they scheduled it the day before your anniversary. Maybe it comes as a blessing that it didn’t fall on your actual Death Day or Burial Day because for me, I think, “how dare they!”

Yet, in the end, I had to take a step back. December 18th will always be a sensitive day for those that cared about you, your SHINee members and family especially, but the world can’t stop just because that day is approaching. Life must go on, no matter how reluctant some of us are to let that happen. I believe that reluctance comes as result of a deep seated fear that we might forget you. I never want to forget you - I don’t think I could even if I tried - but there is still that irrational fear of it happening. I know I’m not the only one, nor the one that those kinds of fears should be affecting the most, though they remain, as constant as my own self reminders that you are indeed gone. That no matter how much I refer to you in the present, living, existing tense, it won’t change anything.

I’m not in denial about your death. I don’t fear that reality anymore and avoid it like a scared child afraid to open their eyes during a scary movie. All I’m left with is a feeling of longing and wondering. I miss you, we miss you. It will never stop, and I don’t want it to stop. That goes back to my fear of forgetting you.

It’s hard to not immediately be reminded of your passing when certain things arise revolving around your group members. SHINee had a killer comeback, Taemin enlisted, and Key had a solo comeback.

Upon the news of SHINee’s return, my mind immediately went to you and those still affected by your passing. I felt this need to remind these people that their thoughts and feelings mattered, not to be ashamed of them. It’s what you would’ve wanted, what you advocated for during your life. Emotions are not to be feared. It’s okay to feel. It’s okay to think differently.

I could even imagine you putting that emotional side of yours to good use when Taemin enlisted. It was a quiet enlistment, kept from the public eye. Understandably, though. All your other members went without the spectacle that most other idols turn it into. I could imagine you crying because SHINee’s baby, your Taeminnie, was doing the most adult thing a Korean man could do. It’s also times like those that I wonder what your enlistment would’ve been like, which branch you would choose and the contributions you would make. I’m sure you would have followed Onew’s lead and not made a big deal out of it. Yet, I also consider that you would have wanted that last moment with your fans, not caring if it soon was plastered across social media. You probably would’ve been crying then, too, for any number of reasons. We would expect it and cherish it, just like any other moments you showcased your sensitive nature.

Key’s comeback was spectacular, breathtaking. He really showcased himself with this one. There is no doubt in my mind that there will forever be a piece of his soul connected to that album. You can feel it when you listen to the music, you can see it when he performs. He would’ve made you proud, and made you cry. The memory of you wine-drunk and weeping over Taemin’s new music video makes me chuckle because I can only imagine the emotional response you would have over your Kibummie becoming a stellar soloist, all while being his authentic self.

Though I suppose you already know how amazing of a performer Key is. You never doubted any of your members’ talents, only helped perfect them. There’s this song on Key’s new album titled Eighteen (End of My World). I thought this the moment I first heard this song, and I will continue to believe this until Key himself confirms or denies it, but there’s a part where the backup vocals sound like you. I don’t doubt that that song was written by Key. He’s so talented that adding lyricist to his long list of skills doesn’t shock me, but there is no doubt in my mind that that song was conceived when you were alive. I can already picture Key coming to you, his hyung that writes the most incredible songs, for help in recording that song. You would show him how you think a certain part should sound, and he couldn’t help holding on to those demos. Maybe as only guidance back then, but now used as more following your passing, a special treasure for himself that he couldn’t resist including in his latest release.

After all, you were the one that said that everything the members do separately connects them back to SHINee. All of the SHINee members love SHINee, but personally I think you loved it most of all. You liked to downplay that adoration at times, particularly when you were younger, by stating that SHINee had a business relationship. In my mind, I think of that as your own personal form of denial. You weren’t ready to admit how much your group mattered, how much you came to cherish your group members, how SHINee became the reason you lasted as long as you did, that they truly were your savior.

It’s hard to resist dedicating a post to you on your Death Day. I’ve only missed one year, the second, because I was deep in my fear of my own reality. I didn’t want you to be gone, I didn’t want the sight of you to remind me of what the world lost, of what we lost. I’ve overcome that hurdle but there will still be more ahead. I need to work on not making everything about you. It will be hard, and I’ll be reluctant to let that go because of how much I love you and how happy you make me. We all will get there some day. It doesn’t have to mean that we’ve forgotten you or that we don’t miss you. It’s just the way of life, and that is okay.

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tobesoalive · 3 years ago

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flume (Josh Kiszka x reader)

sorry about the wait! like I said I'm in the process of moving so I've been quite busy but I'm hoping to get around to my other requests in the next few days. For now though please enjoy this tooth rotting fluff about our favorite little lad!

Warnings: None

Finally, you let out a sigh of relief as you shut your laptop, having just finished writing a paper for a class you were taking over the summer. You had wanted to get a head start on your academics so you could hopefully graduate in the winter, leaving you more time to start your career and life with your amazing, sexy and talented boyfriend.

Joshua Kiszka was the love of your life, the apple of your eye, and you were absolutely obsessed with him. The feeling was mutual, never did a day pass by where Josh didn’t remind you how much you mean to him and how lucky he was to exist in the same universe as you. Yes, he could get a little sappy, but that just made you love him even more.

It was already 10pm, and Josh had been gone for a few hours now, meeting up with the rest of the band and their management team to discuss the upcoming tour over dinner. You were completely fine having a night alone, it actually gave you time to focus on your work rather than your extremely distracting other half. You had just been worried about Josh lately. On the outside he was his usual hyper and positive self, but you know that he has been worrying non-stop about the upcoming tour. It had been a little while since the guys performed live and Josh was riddled with anxiety about it. You knew it would go off without a hitch and that the fans would absolutely love it, but you understood Josh’s feelings and made sure to let him know they were valid and offer your support. To make matters worse the band, specifically Josh, had been gaining attention on social media, with a video of their performance from SNL a couple years ago going viral. There were a lot of people criticizing Josh’s performance and mannerisms, many of them saying he was probably addicted to cocaine or something. That was far from the truth though.

You remember that night, being backstage with Josh and trying to calm his nerves. Not only was he dealing with anxiety but he was also a bit under the weather. Personally you loved the performance, and thought Josh did amazing justice to the song he wrote about you. Everytime you hear “You’re the One” your heart basically beats out of your chest.

Now you just couldn’t wait for the Kiszka boy to be home so you could hear all about his day.

Around 10:30 you heard the door open and you made your way down the stairs from your room. Josh was setting his keys on the counter and before you could even say anything he was covering his face with his hands, obviously trying to hide his expression from you.

“Joshy, baby come here” you said gently as you made your way over to him. You wrapped your arms tight around him, breathing in his wonderful scent, as he finally loosened up and returned the hug. You could feel him softly cry into your shoulder, your hand immediately going to the back of his head, petting his hair and cooing “You’re okay baby, it's going to be okay”.

After a minute he pulled away from the embrace, arms still wrapped around you, with a few tears still running down his face. “Thank you” he said quietly in a hoarse voice, offering a small smile.

“Do you wanna talk about what’s going on?” you ask him, completely fine if he refused.

“I’ve just never been so nervous in my life, and all the backlash and rumors about me online aren’t helping.”

“Babe I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how stressed and overwhelmed you must be. Just know that I personally think you are absolutely astounding, and I’m sure there are millions of people who would agree. You will always have me, no matter what anyone says or even if you completely suck on tour, which I know for a fact you won’t.”

Josh chuckles a little and says “Thanks love, you have such a way with words”

You roll your eyes, “C’mon Josh you know what I’m trying to say, I’ve never been one to sugar coat things now have I?”

He pulls you in again before whispering “I seriously have no idea what I’d do without you, you are my rock and my safe space.”

You pull back only to grab his face in between your palms and give him a passionate kiss.

“Come on lover boy, why don't you go take a warm shower and then we can curl up in bed.”

“That sounds amazing”

You both make your way upstairs and as Josh goes in the bathroom you change into a pair of soft shorts and one of his shirts.

You’re about to go get two glasses of water when your boyfriend pops his head out of the bathroom door.

“Hey, I know it’s kind of a weird question but...I just don’t wanna be alone right now, so would you mind just sitting in here while I shower?”

“Not at all” you say, giving him a reassuring smile.

You go in the bathroom and leave the door open, Josh is in just his boxers as you hop up onto the counter and sit with your back against the wall. He peels his last garment of clothing off as you steal a quick peek at his ass, what can you say, it’s pretty damn cute.

As he shampoos his hair and soaps up his body you two talk about nothing in particular, just doing your usual silly bickering about different film meanings or which John Denver song is the best.

Once he gets out, he quickly pats himself off with a towel, throwing on a pair of soft tan shorts.

As he assumes his position in your bed you go grab the glasses of water you had intended to earlier. After coming up and handing him his cup you get under the covers and pull them up only about halfway. You wrap yourself around Josh, knowing that in his vulnerable state you need to be the big spoon and cradle him like he usually does for you.

You press a few kisses to his temple and the back of his neck before saying goodnight.

“Thank you again, for everything. It is impossible to put into words how much it means to me, how much YOU mean to me.”

“You don’t even need to use words baby, I feel it all the time, I’m convinced our souls are intertwined.”

“And that makes me the luckiest guy on earth”

“And I am the luckiest girl. I love you, try and get some sleep baby”

You’re able to catch his last few words before you drift off into a peaceful sleep.

“You’re my one.”

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

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pause, m | myg | 3

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Life is like a cassette tape. It seems like it’s constantly repeating, flipped from side A to side B, and the songs can’t be skipped. You can only pause, rewind, fast forward, play after you’ve already heard the song. After you’ve already lived it. All Min Yoongi knows is his own tape, until it smashes right at his feet, and then he has to learn to dance to a different beat.

warnings: rated M (18+) - please be warned this story has a physically and verbally abusive relationship; language; gender stereotyping; mentions of therapy; non-idol!AU; music producer!Yoongi x dancing fanatic!reader

rated M because I know how sensitive a topic domestic abuse is.

Morning. Night.

He wasn’t on the night train.

Morning. Night.

He wasn’t on the night train.

Morning. Night.

You were the only one exiting at the last stop. Running. Running.

Morning. Night.

You hated this replay. This song sucked. This cassette tape sucked. But you kept going, ending all your bad days with dancing, dancing until you wore your own heart out, dancing to sad songs with happy beats, attending your dance party of one. Never had you wished your dance party to be of two.

Never, until now.

Morning. Night.

You were wandering around your neighborhood on your off day, idle and antsy. There was a garage sale happening. You walked over, seeing all the old things. Weird lampshades with no bottom half. Chipped coin banks. A pair of ping-pong paddles with no ping pong ball. Single teacups without the rest of the set. Old VHS tapes that no one had a player for.

Cassettes.

A bunch of cassette tapes, sitting there, spilled out. You tilted your head, picking one out. Love Songs for my Love. It was written in faded pen, a barely legible scribble. You flipped it over, but there was no indication of said songs. Just a Side A and Side B. Did someone make this? Did they use a tape player and record this by playing the songs on scratchy audio?

You suddenly remembered Yoongi’s girlfriend throwing a cassette tape on the subway concrete as she declared she hated him. The thin plastic has shattered, black ribbon flying everywhere.

Did Yoongi make her one?

And she smashed it, just like that?

“Do you want that?”

You started as an old woman indicated the tape in your hand. She was wearing a blue and white floral dress, a bright pink fanny pack at her waist. Her hand held a wad of change bills.

“Uh…” you said, not knowing if you did or not.

“I have a cassette player too.” The old woman tucked a gray hair behind her ear and rummaged around her, producing a silver and brown cassette player. It was huge, nearly the size of your forearm. “Still works. Needs batteries though.” She stated the price.

You walked out of the garage sale with the cassette and the player, wallet lighter.

You went home and played the tape after shoving some batteries into the player. It was full of old, cheesy eighties songs. You didn’t know any of these songs. They were all weird. Some were poorly recorded, cutting off strangely. The speaker was terrible, scratchy and pitching the audio due to its age, not that the audio was very good to begin with.

But you danced to it.

You danced to it.

Danced to these terrible love songs of a different time, of a different couple, not knowing if they were still together or not, not knowing if they were still in love, not knowing if they were even in Korea, but dancing to these retro beats anyway, not caring. Because someone, at one point, tried clumsily to make this for the one that loved, only for it to be sold like cheap candy decades later and you might as well enjoy it, because, hell.

What else was there to enjoy?

Morning.

Night.

You stopped at your doorstep.

Someone was sitting there, wearing a black parka and black sneakers. Black face mask. He raised his head as you stopped. Dark eyes, void of any sparkle. He stood up.

You swallowed. Bowed your head politely.

Opened your door for Min Yoongi.

You hadn’t changed the couch all this time. Left everything there, waiting.

Blankets. Pillow. The suitcase of his clothes.

Everything.

Yoongi didn’t say anything.

You went to your room, wordlessly.

In the morning, the blankets were folded neatly and the pillow set on top, as if he was never there.

Pause.

Fast forward.

He would be there one night and then not there several nights. He would stay several nights in a row, but not be there in the morning. Never saying anything. You didn’t say anything. You just went to your bedroom and danced to sad songs with happy beats, door closed, the pressure in your chest unbearable.

Replay. Turn the tape around. Replay. Turn the tape around. Replay.

You wanted to fast forward. You wanted to pause. You wanted to rewind.

But you had to press play.

You had to live the moments.

You had to run as you exited to night train, run and run and run, sometimes finding Yoongi sitting at your doorstep, sometimes finding nothing but air. And it didn’t matter. They were all bad days, ending with you dancing to gloomy songs with upbeat tunes, dancing and dancing until you passed out.

You were stuck.

Stuck in this odd loop of reality.

Trapped in sad lyrics with a happy melody.

You talked to your former therapist about it.

Explained the situation, trying to remember all the details. He was retired already, but as usual he listened patiently and with kindness. He didn't have to. When your therapist retired, he let you know that he meant it when he told you that you could call him any time and he would set aside some of his day to talk with you. You were grateful and never tried to abuse it. Sometimes you would just call and say hello, ask him about his health. Send him cards every once in a while, wishing him well. He had been a great therapist and now he was a good friend.

Those were really, really hard to come by.

You saw Yoongi once again, sitting in front of your apartment doorstep. Bit your lip seeing his crumpled form wrapped in his black parka. You walked up to him and smiled, but Yoongi didn't look at you. He only stood up and moved out of the way for you to unlock your door.

Your former therapist's words echoed in your head.

You need to consider the effect of your kindness, not only on him, but on you.

You held up your keys and found your hand shaking, missing the keyhole.

It is up to you how much you want to say. But remember to communicate with empathy. He is a victim and he may not respond rationally because his thought processes have been manipulated and warped.

"I'm sorry."

Yoongi's whisper was very soft, almost inaudible. You wanted to scream, cry, laugh it off, hug him, all at once. Instead, you took a deep breath and put your key in your front door. Turned around and beckoned him warmly into your home.

"Come in."

Everyone's reality is different. Even if you're sharing moments together, one person might have a completely different way of interpreting and processing events.

Yoongi stepped into your apartment once more, carefully taking off his shoes. Trying to keep his eyes on the floor. You didn't see any visible bruises on his face, but you could see the bruises to his soul as he timidly walked to the couch.

In life, you get to choose only how you feel about things. You only get to choose your own reaction.

You closed the front door, locked it.

You can't choose for other people.

You turned around to see Yoongi looking at the pillow, blankets, the little bag of toiletries. The suitcase of his clothes, washed and folded. You kept them on the couch, all this time.

"Yoongi."

He didn't turn his head, but you saw him move his chin slightly to indicate he was listening.

"This time... this time, before you leave in the morning," you said quietly, gently. "I hope you reconsider. Even if it's only for a second."

Yoongi didn't respond.

The next morning, you didn't know what you would find. The same folded blankets with the pillow on top? The same empty couch?

You went out to the living room.

Folded blankets. Pillow on top. No Yoongi on the couch. Your heart sank. Okay. It was worth a shot.

"I told myself this would be the last time."

A familiar raspy, soft voice. You jerked your head to the door. Yoongi was standing there, fully dressed, face mask on, sneakers on his feet. He wasn't looking at you. He was staring at the couch.

"I told myself I wouldn't take advantage of your kindness anymore."

It's okay, you wanted to blurt, but you hesitated, because was it? Was it okay to watch this all the time, to witness this toxic relationship, and not be able to help because you can't help unless they want to be helped?

"I'm weak."

Yoongi raised his head. He made eye contact with you. And it hurt so much, seeing those eyes and knowing you could do nothing, knowing he was just going to go back because that's all he knew.

You smiled even though it hurt so, so much to smile.

"You might think you're weak," you said softly. "But you always have a choice, Yoongi. Even if it's a small step. Even if it's something dumb, like taking off your shoes."

You couldn't tell his expression, most of it hidden behind the face mask. You thought of that time, in the convivence superstore, where his fingers had accidentally gotten caught in your sweater and unfurled the yarn, tangling you two together with red string, an awkward, embarrassing moment. Your lips curved a little wider, remembering that time. If anything, at least there was that one precious memory.

Yoongi looked down.

He placed his hand on the doorknob.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to watch him go.

You heard shuffling. Then a presence close to you. Your eyes snapped open. Yoongi's shoes were by the door. You looked up, right in front of you. Yoongi gazed back at you with uncertainty. Then he pulled down the face mask and stepped closer to you. Voice trembling, still so soft.

"What... what should I do now?"

You couldn't help it.

You began to cry.

It all came out, the tears spilling like a broken dam. Yoongi's eyes widened, startled at your sudden reaction. You wrapped your arms around yourself and buried your face in your chest, sobbing ugly tears. You turned away quickly, wiping them away and attempting to talk, but it was impossible. They kept coming.

Was it happiness? Relief? Stress? Anxiety? The crying racked your entire body. All those weeks, all those days, all those moments. You were just a person. You wanted to say, don't do this to me anymore, but that wasn't a fair thing to say, so you never said it, but, please, please Yoongi, don't do this to me anymore.

Arms appeared around you, black parka covered arms, and they encircled you, first a tentative hold, then tighter and firmer, steadying your sobs, turning them into sniffles. You realized your sweatshirt sleeves were wet and gross now, covered in snot and tears.

"Thank you."

The whisper behind your head, making you freeze.

"Thank you so, so much."

You didn't want to start crying again.

You started crying again.

Pause.

Fast forward.

Yoongi looked back at you, face full of uncertainty. Black face mask on his chin, squishing his cheeks together. You smiled at him from the waiting room, waving. The doctor’s name was printed clearly on the door. The name of the therapist you had helped Yoongi find. They specialized in domestic violence victims.

“I… I can’t do it.”

He said it softly, but the waiting room was dead silent.

You smiled at him.

“You only have to take one step,” you replied gently. “I’ll be waiting right here.”

Yoongi looked forward again. He took one step. Then another. Then more, walking into the door and closing it behind him.

Pause. Rewind.

You remembered your similar moment. You were by myself at that time, years ago, confused and alone, about to walk into an old man’s office who you thought could do absolutely nothing, but you didn’t know what else to do. You knew there was something wrong with you and you didn’t know what and you knew you needed help. But there was no one to tell you to take a step forward. You were frightened, scared of being alone. Equally scared of being with someone else, which was why you were so boring in every relationship, never putting in any effort, because you were afraid.

The therapist had noticed your hesitance. He stood up and said your name kindly. You snapped to attention, nodding slowly. The old man had smiled, hands crossed in front of his waist.

“You only have to take one step,” he had said. “Just one.”

You looked at the ground.

Took one step.

That seemed too small. Maybe one more.

One more.

One.

More.

You were now in the office, standing in front of the sofa.

The old man had beamed at you proudly.

“You did it.”

Pause. Fast forward.

“You did it.”

Yoongi stepped out of the office. His eyes found yours. “I did.”

You smiled proudly.

“Wanna go buy some bread?” you asked, pointing in the direction of the market plaza next to the clinic. “There’s a bakery nearby. It would be nice to have bread for breakfast, don’t you think?”

Yoongi gave you his little half-smirk. “Yeah, it would.”

Reset.

Pause.

Play.

“Why do you have that?”

You looked up from your bed to your desk. Yoongi was pointing to the cassette tape player. His face was white, almost tense. His other hand was holding yours. He held it tighter, biting his lip.

“I bought it at a garage sale,” you answered truthfully. Yoongi lowered his hand, not quite looking at you. You continued. “I was walking around the neighborhood and someone was selling their old stuff and I saw some cassettes, so I bought one. The lady upsold me the player too. It was after the first time you…”

You left me.

You felt a painful pluck of your heartstrings, like a guitar strand pulled too tight and producing the wrong sound. Yoongi turned to face you, but you shifted your eyes, taking a deep breath. It’s not his fault. But it had hurt. You couldn’t pretend it didn’t.

You laughed apprehensively. “It was full of eighties love songs anyway. The audio is scratchy and old. The couple probably aren’t even together anymore.”

“That wasn’t that long ago.”

“The eighties were forty years ago, Yoongi.”

Silence. Yoongi was still holding your hand.

“How many times do you think it’s been replayed?” Yoongi murmured.

Your eyes shifted back to the silver and brown tape player. “I don’t know. But I kept playing it.” Your voice was a little choked up now. “I kept playing it until you… until you came back.” And sometimes I think… sometimes I think there might be a chance you’ll leave again. And maybe that was impossible, but you knew better, because impossible things happen all the time and it would be easy to think a person could fully heal, but things like that don’t heal so easily.

You know, because you witnessed it firsthand.

“They’re all terrible,” you said quietly.

Yoongi squeezed your hand. “But you kept replaying them.”

“Yeah.”

He took a deep breath. And then another. You waited. He seemed like he wanted to say something. You rubbed his thumb gently with yours. He kept staring at the cassette player.

“That… was the first gift I gave her.” His dark brown eyes were misty, gazing into the past. “Our hundred-day anniversary. I gave her a cassette of my favorite songs. I thought it was more original than a mix CD or a link to a Spotify playlist.” He looked down, not quite at the floor. “She was so excited and happy. She told me she was going to play it as soon as she got home.”

Silence.

When Yoongi spoke again, there was a quiver of hopelessness.

“I never saw a tape player at her place.”

You saw the pain in his eyes.

“Did she play it even once?”

He shut his eyes, hiding them with his hair. His voice was getting smaller and smaller, almost disappearing.

“And then she smashed it.”

He was clutching your hand so tightly that your fingers felt numb, but you didn’t move away, listening carefully.

“She smashed it so that not even people like you could pick it up years later and listen to it. Smashed it so that not even one person in the whole world could appreciate it.”

“The Yoongi at the time appreciated it,” you said softly.

Yoongi hid his face with his hair.

“The Yoongi back then was a fucking fool,” he sighed.

“It’s not so easy to have a pure feeling.” You placed your other hand on top of his. “Not everyone can feel that way. It’s not fair when someone takes advantage of that.”

He hung his head. “I could have gotten out. I could have been a man and left. But I kept going back. I enabled her. I was just as bad.”

You sighed softly. “You know things like that are easy to say and impossible to do in the moment.”

“Aren’t you mad at me?”

Yoongi lifted his head, looking at you through his bangs. Not wanting to fully show you the pain in those dark brown orbs.

“For going back?”

You shook your head. “No.” Your lips curved into a sad smile. “I watched my dad crawl back over and over. I watched it happen right in front of my eyes.” You exhaled the tenseness from your chest. “He kept thinking that because they had kids he had to come back.” The next breath was rougher, pushing out all your anger. “I think it would have easier if she was my stepmother. But she wasn’t.”

And the fear stabbed through you.

“I keep thinking, what if I’m like her? What if I’m just like her and I don’t know?”

You shut your eyes.

“All of my previous relationships ended because I didn’t invest into them.”

You suddenly let go of Yoongi’s hand, pulling away, but Yoongi held on, held on desperately, interlocking his fingers with yours. You dropped your hand, all strength gone, measuring your breathing, trying to calm yourself down.

“What if…?”

Silence.

“We’ll never know unless we try.”

Pause.

“I can’t ask you to try after what you’ve been through, Yoongi.”

“You don’t have to ask me.”

You opened your eyes and slowly, slowly raised your head. Your eyes connected with his.

“You know you won’t be that way,” Yoongi murmured quietly. “Because you know and can recognize it. You recognized it when… when I saw nothing.”

You held his hand.

Fell back on the bed and the two of you stared at the ceiling, holding hands.

You laughed as you exited the train car with Yoongi. At the last stop, stepping out to the harsh streetlights and concrete.

“What do you mean, is that where I got my dance skills? It’s just a music video! They’re supposed to be weird!” you were saying, shouldering your backpack.

“That was bizarre and that’s putting it lightly,” Yoongi chuckled.

He didn’t look at the edge of the train station anymore. He was only looking at you, with his dark brown, cat-like eyes full of sparkle, smirking at you fully now. There was still space between you two at this particular place, this last train stop, but somehow it had gotten smaller. Shrunk. Not because he was shrinking either. He was a smoothed-out piece of paper now, still winkled; the old marks erased but still etched on the page. Not forgotten, but finally able to be written over.

“Get the fuck over here, Yoongi.”

Both of you froze.

Yoongi frowned and looked up. The pressure on your chest returned.

The woman. Yoongi’s girlfriend.

No.

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I told you it was over. It’s still over.”

Ex-girlfriend.

She furrowed her brows, bristling. “You can’t do this to me, Yoongi! I’m the only one who loves you! Me! Or did you forget, you stupid bastard?”

Yoongi paused. He took a deep breath and stared up at the streetlights, up to the sky. For a second, you despaired, thinking he was going to consider it, thinking he was going to walk away from you. Then he let out a puff of air and ticked his head.

“I don’t have anything more to say to you,” he said evenly, not looking at his ex-girlfriend.

Yoongi turned away.

He caught your eye. He wasn’t smiling, but you could tell there was something different this time. Resolve. He nudged your arm with his.

“Wanna race?”

The pressure on your chest lifted suddenly, leaving you breathless.

“What?” you gasped.

Yoongi chuckled. “You’re gonna lose.”

And then he tore off. You started, running after him, the young woman shouting after you two, but neither of you heard, neither of you listening, because you were running, running, chasing after that black parka with indignation, calling his name and him mockingly bellowing yours back, causing you to run faster, faster, smile on your face, tackling him into your front door laughing. Yoongi snickered, stating he won and you chastised him, telling him he cheated as you unlocked the door.

“Your fault for getting distracted.”

“I wasn’t ready!” you flailed, dumping your backpack onto the ground. You took out your phone and accidentally pressed the play button on your music. Your Bluetooth house speakers started blasting quirky guitar, snazzy drums, and twanging bass, ridiculous lyrics singing along. In frustration, you tossed your phone on the couch and began to wiggle your arms, pointing accusingly at Yoongi, as if to say, this isn’t over, but kicking off your shoes and prancing about your apartment, bouncing your shoulders to the beat.

Yoongi shook his head, but you didn’t care, singing on the top of your lungs.

“Don’t know a night without dancing, don’t like the night without dancing…”

“Is that dancing?” Yoongi interrupted, but you just wiggled up and down like a fish out of water, and Yoongi shook his head once more, looking exasperated. You spun, you frolicked, you whipped your hair around until you were lightheaded, not caring about anything, not caring about what Min Yoongi was seeing, because this was your time, your time to shine, your nighttime dance party.

You tripped on the couch and Yoongi darted forward to snatch you from the air. You laughed at your own clumsiness, dizzy from spinning so much, not realizing how close you were to Min Yoongi, not realizing until the song ended and you were staring up at him and he was staring down at you, still in his black parka and face mask squishing his cheeks.

The next song began.

But for some reason you couldn’t brush it off. You couldn’t get up and begin dancing again. You were only looking up into Yoongi’s eyes and he was looking down at you. You were reminded of his face that day in the grocery store, when the red yarn from your sweater unraveled due to the Velcro on his sleeve, reminded of that split second where you were happy and sad at the same time, happy and sad at the idea of red yarn attaching you and Yoongi together.

Happy because it was funny.

Sad because you knew you had to pull away.

Yoongi’s dark eyes looked down at you and he leaned down a little. Stopped.

You raised yourself a little. Stopped.

Pause.

Heart beating fast, so fast. Was it from running? From dancing like an idiot? From staring into Yoongi’s eyes? From being so close to him? From knowing you shouldn’t kiss him, because maybe he wasn’t ready yet, but really, really wanting to?

Yoongi leaned down the same time you rose upward.

Your foreheads knocked together.

“Ow!”

“Motherfuc–”

You swore and he jerked up, rubbing his forehead as you winced, massaging yours. It was a hard hit and you felt woozy from all the emotions and the physical exertion. You grabbed his arm for balance as you stood, and he grabbed yours, grimacing as he rubbed his head.

“Damn, that fucking hurt,” he mumbled.

“Ugh, am I bruised?” you asked, removing your hand.

He squinted. “No?” He leaned forward a little.

You leaned forward too. Stopping just a centimeter away. Yoongi’s eyes widened. You looked into his wide eyes with your wide eyes, waiting. You shouldn’t kiss him, because you didn’t know if he was okay with it, you didn’t know if he was even thinking about it. It was way too early, it was too soon, and you should just back off–

He pressed his lips to yours.

You both stared at each other with unblinking, huge eyes, lips on lips.

You jerked back, sputtering. “Y-You’re making this weird!”

Yoongi pointed to you and all around him. “And this bizarre indie rock isn’t making this weird?”

“D-Don’t blame the music,” you stuttered, fingers on your lips. “You shouldn’t stare like that!”

“You were s-staring back!” he accused.

“F-Fine!”

And then you grabbed his face and kissed him, deeply, fully. You kissed Min Yoongi, kissed his soft lips with your eyes squeezed shut, breathing in his scent and his presence, a presence you never wanted to go away. You didn’t know if it was right or wrong. You didn’t know if this was the start of a wonderful story or the end of a rollercoaster one, but it was yours, your cassette tape with your love songs, and you wanted Yoongi on the playlist, you wanted his song to play on repeat, and he grabbed your arms and pulled you close, kissing you back, murmuring your name, wrapping his arms around you, and you knew you had his song, his song on your cassette to dance to.

Don’t let this beginning end.

4. smut.

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #bts series #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

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togrowoldinv · 2 years ago

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Midnights Thoughts!!!

Okay y’all I’m dropping my first thoughts on midnights below. Let’s chat about the album!

Overall, I love it, I love it, I love it! Very lyric styles of folklore and evermore meets the sounds of Lover and Rep!

Lavender Haze:

-Okay this is the pop music standard

-the lyric “one night or a wife” so true

-we are back in bridge city

Maroon:

-sick New York reference

-bopping chorus

-“so scarlet it was maroon” very Wanda

-“carnations you thought were roses, that’s us” JESUS CHRIST

-scarlet lips seems a lil fruity

-easily a fave

Anti-Hero:

-this is for the archer girlies

-“I’m the problem, it’s me” ☹️

-“I wake up screaming from dreaming”

-it is definitely exhausting being the anti-hero

-it’s giving Natasha

Snow On The Beach:

-the beginning of this song is like when you aren’t sure if you really saw someone or you just wanted to see someone so your brain told you that you did

-“stars by the pocketful” is actually so cute

-lyrically brilliant

-where’s Lana though?

-the key change is good

You’re On Your Own, Kid:

-immediately chills

-this makes me nostalgic for high school

-reminds me of my friends and how I love them so much and how we have each other even as time changes

-“just to find my dreams aren’t rare” SHUT UP TAYLOR

-“pages turned with bridges burned” end of rep vibes

-very big sister energy

Midnight Rain:

-the beginning is wild

-lyrically I enjoy it

-very true of thinking of someone after a long time

-could make a good fic

Question…?:

-“a color I’ve searched for since” very illicit affairs like

-she says “her” a lot

-upbeat but sad

-“did you wish you put up more of a fight?”

-bridge city

Vigilante Shit:

-great vibes

-definitely the revenge she spoke of

-the girl from mad woman

-girl power anthem

-“don’t get sad, get even” tattoo this on my forehead

Bejeweled:

-“didn’t notice you walking over my peace of mind in the shoes I gave you” it’s giving my tears ricochet and the jewels she gave them

-obsessed with the way she says ✨shimmer✨

-this song scratches the itch in my brain

-one of my faves

Labyrinth:

-I cried a lot

-the breathing instructions, thank you Dr. Swift

-“I’ll be getting over you my whole life” PLEASE SEND HELP

-crying, shaking, throwing up

-Natasha Romanoff’s song

Karma:

-vibes

-lol spider boy reference

-“karma is my boyfriend” so true

-the voice layering is cute

Sweet Nothing:

-Joe!!!!!

-this is what love sounds like idc

-please someone love me like this

Mastermind:

-absolute banger

-get what you want bestie

-“I’m the wind in our free flowing sails”

-this song feels like the end of a movie when everyone comes home after a long day

Omg plus new tracks!

The Great War:

-okay the drums rock

-I like it and processing it is a lot with this chaotic surprise lol

-“I vow I will always be yours” cute!!!

Bigger Than The Whole Sky:

-“every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness” SAD but good fic material

-“I’ve got a lot to live without. I’m never gonna meet what could’ve been would’ve been” 😭

-I am a shell of a woman

Paris:

-funky fresh

-“draw a map on your bedroom ceiling” adorable!

-I love love

High Infidelity:

-great rhythm

-“the slowest way is never loving them enough” ouchie

-feels regretful yet unapologetic

Glitch:

-sounds like a rain stick lol

-interesting vibes

Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve:

-intro has similar sound to Mary Jane’s Last Dance

-“the gods honest truth is that the pain was heaven”

-Taylor don’t be shy and release the rock and roll version please

-“I regret you all the time”

-“god rest my soul, I miss who I used to be” GOOD GRIEF

Dear Reader:

-younger me needed this

-her whole heart is in it

-advice for Nothing New stans

#this are my loose first takes #I will have many more ideas as I learn lyrics #midnights #taylor swift #my inbox is wide open for taylor thoughts and theories today

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missinghan · 4 years ago

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caged in this lullaby ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : assassin au; cop au; action; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 7,2k.

❖ warning : explicit language, mentions of blood, arson & violence

❖ summary : felix ultimately lets go of all and allows himself to drown in the ashes of bitter tragedy to see what stays. the last thing he’d expect is a stranger with his greatest secret.

❖ dedicated to @blueprint-han : a continuation of aria of an assassin. song used — the lullaby by sophism, all credits to the owner.

prologue.

Fire cares not for the time it vanishes, only that it gives the world heat and light.

The entire building burns deeply in red, orange, and yellow. The cries of the neighborhood echoes into the night with sirens blaring in the background. Your frozen figure can only watch in terror as glowing embers dance and twirl, searing through the ground, ripping through the roof in despair. Tendrils of smoke are reaching into the sky desperately as if attempting to escape the blazing inferno below.

“Kid, I wanna have Chinese for dinner today.”

“Okay, and I should care because…?”

“Because I’m housing your ungrateful ass.”

No. No!

You drop the plastic bags in your hand, your muscles move before your mind can register what’s happening. The next thing you know, you’re racing to the heart of danger, utterly unfazed about the fact that fire is the most beautiful weapon of them all. Powerful. Destructive. Heartless. In mere moments, everything you love can be reduced into nothing but sheer ashes.

“But we always have Chinese!”

“Who’s paying again? Was it you? No, I don’t think so.”

Tears blur your vision and you elect to ignore every white noise buzzing at the back of your head. Each step you take is rather a negotiation than an order. Your limbs move like they never belonged to you. This agony has an unpleasant warmth to it, eating at your stomach and searing inside your rib cage. Your body concedes to the torment, unable to bring a single thought into consideration. The entirety of your existence yearns to curl into something fetal, something primeval, and all while the pain burns and radiates.

“Officer! Stop her! She’s running into the fire!”

“Child! What are you doing?! It’s dangerous!”

But what you’re going through is nothing compared to his torment. He’s in there. Writhing and suffering alone. It must be so painful, so cold despite the enraged flames around him.

When a strong pair of arms slip around your body and every motion comes to a stop, there is a scream of the mouth and lungs, the sound of his name lingers on the tip of your tongue. Because a response is impossible, there comes a scream of the eyes and soul, the kind that bypasses the ears and speaks right to the heart.

You forget how to scream from that day on because you are either left with dead silence or punished with cruelty.

Because you couldn’t save him.

one.

The housekeeper wakes with a tight knot in her stomach. Her body topples the sheets over to reach for her nightstand, flickering on some source of light. Only silence accompanies the hard throbbing inside her chest until a loud thud comes from the hallway. Her body jolts up instantly, a hand over her chest as a soft string of melody saunters into the emptiness of the night.

“When the night is falling, and you have lost your way.”

Her quivering figure quickly exits her room with a flashlight. Her right hand clutches at her other one as an attempt to stop the shaking as adrenaline sears through her vessels. With dreaded steps, the housekeeper manages to reach the staircase, approaches the end of it, and proceeds toward the living room.

“When the rain is storming, and your world’s turned to gray.”

The voice smoothly slips through the chilling nightfall like an allure yet there’s nothing musical about it. The lullaby sometimes goes off-tune or comes out in broken waves as though whoever’s singing genuinely doesn’t care. They sound more dead than angry, more tired than irate, making her innards shift uneasily.

“When the wolves await outside, and you feel like you’ve nowhere to hide.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, just remember. Remember when I said.”

And they stop. The housekeeper musters up every bit of courage left. A breath in. A breath out.

In the darkroom, even the ticking clock has a relaxed feeling, as if it’s merely a heart-beat at rest. She feels as though the air moves like cool water and the aroma of the house owner’s scented candles infuse her far more deeply than it did in the light of day. The hollow space is etched with charcoal, the fabrics are muted hues as if they too await dawn to ignite their colors for all to see. The moment she heaves a sigh of relief, her eyes make the mistake of averting to the ceiling, unveiling a scene of unimaginable terror.

Fear floods her system, it pumps and beats like it’s trying to escape. Her heart might as well explode right now because even her jaw is shaking non-stop. Her body urges her to either run fast, away from the horror laid out flat in front of her eyes, or to stay quiet and do the right thing, calling the police. But instead, she remains where she’s standing.

There is Mr. Yuuki, the house owner she’s been working for over three years, hung upon the crystal chandelier. His limp body lets its limbs stick out awkwardly, white eyes rolled to the back of his head as blood drips to the floor, forming a dark pool. The flashlight drops to the floor, and so does her trembling gaze. She gasps sharply when a thick smear of crimson is splattered across the wooden tiles, sinking into the cracks like poison.

Her adrenaline surges so fast she almost vomits, she can taste saliva thickening in her throat and beads of sweat trickling down on her forehead. At some point, she’ll have to move and risk the chance of getting herself killed.

Just then, a shadow comes into view and her legs go weak, letting her body collapse to the ground like a crooked puppet. Incoherent pleas pour from her lips as she screws her eyes shut, bracing herself for whatever comes next. “Please! I’ll do anything! I won’t call the police! Just don’t kill me, please! Please!”

Footsteps are advancing toward her, getting louder by the tick of the clock. They echo listlessly until the sound slowly fades away, only a soft response comes afterward.

“Greetings to his boss for me.”

two.

The mansion has been his home for decade upon decade, embraced by nature on the outskirts of the city, away from all the noises, the buzzing flow of time people have signed their souls up for. It is all concrete and tall glass windows that give overlooking views of the clear horizon, a chance to relax and take in the changing of the seasons from the comfort of an easy chair.

Yet coming from the hollow building is a strange sound, a melodic voice of pain and sorrow, of heartache and loss. The tune is soft, like grass on a summer day, or the tenderness in the air in which only spring possesses. It can fill one with warmth while weaving a sad tale of indescribable, rather forgotten memories.

“Darling, close your weary eyes. Everything will be fine.”

“Let the breeze wipe away your tears. There is no need to cry.”

He’s seated at the edge with his back straight, he no longer feels dwarfed by the grand piano as he used to as a kid. His fingers are limber as they glide on ivory first and ebony after, his neck slightly bent down, tousling his hair to the front while his eyes flutter shut in serene.

“You can lay down. No one will hurt you.”

The music stand lies empty, has been so for years. He only ever reads the notes within his mind because he goes as far as playing the instrument to this day for this peculiar lullaby. Slowly, the music seems to fill the room to the brim, then spills out through doors and windows and the cracks in the walls, while at the source trembling fingers dance sweetly on.

He knows that he needs to calm down.

“Let your fears be carried by the streams. The twilight gleam watches over you.”

In his head, he reads through the music scrupulously as though he’s practicing during the old, innocent days, beat by beat, bar by bar, note by note. His fingers know precisely where to go and how each key reacts when he applies the same, adequate amount of pressure. It’s as though he can make the hammer hit each string in a way to resonate with the most beautiful of sounds.

The thought of playing as a kid eases the spike in his heartbeat and clears his mind. He can still vividly remember the first time he got lifted onto the bench on his sixth birthday, his tiny legs dangled over the edge and his figure completely overwhelmed by the mammoth-sized instrument. His arms could barely span the length of the keyboard, his feet could only do so much as graze the pedal below.

“And when the morning arises…”

He recalls the mounts of sheets cluttering his father’s old bookshelves in such ways that he himself can’t remember their initial color. He recalls the tall figure seating beside him each time, guiding his hands across the keys, ones that were unfamiliar to music and the swell it can bring to one’s chest. He recalls those starry eyes staring down at him, the outburst of laughter, and the cat-like smile that brings love and harmony to his fragile soul.

“I shall be by your side…”

Yet he never recalls a proper goodbye, only tears.

“Minho.”

The melody pauses sharply, his body stiffens at the name. Minho isn’t here.

“Minho, is that you?” Minho isn’t here, a voice inside him snaps.

A deep breath. He elects to ignore the strings that are bound to break inside his chest before pushing himself off the wooden bench. With a swift turn, he sees Mrs. Lee standing by the door with her hair in her face, her soulless eyes lighting up once they graze the sight of him. “Minho, my sweet child. You’ve come home. You’ve finally come home!” Her voice echoes in joy, a hand clamped over her mouth as her eyes brim with tears.

Minho isn’t here! His heart yells aloud, yet his mind can’t comply.

He doesn’t know what’s urging him to approach her, to let her lean on him. Perhaps, it’s guilt. Or the yearning for the warmth of a mother who abandoned him long ago. “Yes, mother, I’m home,” he sighs softly when she clutches at his shirt. “I’m never going to leave you again.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here.”

Hurried footsteps flood the hallway rapidly until the housekeeper barges through the door, simply breaking the agonizing silence. “Good gracious, Mrs. Lee! Goodness, she must have forgotten about her sleeping pills again.” She then hastily rushes to his side, supporting Mrs. Lee by her waist while bowing continuously. “Young Master, please, allow me.”

“It’s alright, you’ve done enough,” he waves his hands with a small smile. “I’ll tuck her back to bed, today is my day off anyway. You may go home and rest now.”

He can’t forget how much lighter Mrs. Lee has gotten, how paler her face has been. He’s afraid that one wrong movement and he might send her frail body flying to the floor. Only when she’s fully covered by her blanket, the stars come out to play and the evening takes on the aroma of a breezy night. He likes this, the softness, the quietness of the sense of resting. Moonlight is streaming through the windows yet his mind, clouded with grey, throbs uncontrollably when he realizes the sudden pang inside his chest.

It’s been fifteen years…

His phone rings. “Sergeant Lee Felix, Seoul P.D,” he keeps his voice from shaking. Suddenly, his eyes grow wide. “I’ll be there.”

And I still couldn’t do anything for you.

three.

Light fog seeps into the depthless night when Felix exits his car, throwing on his blazer in a hurry as he staggers toward a water fountain. There’s barely any vehicles operating at this hour, leaving the streets chilling and empty. He quickly checks his watch one last time. One AM on the dot. Another sleepless night.

“Lix! Over here!”

His blank expression breaks into a grin when two familiar faces come into view. “Changbin? Hyunjin? You both got called in too?”

“Yeah, can’t believe the Chief had the audacity to interrupt my beauty sleep for a simple homicide,” the taller officer, Hyunjin, has his face contorted in faint annoyance, brushing through his long locks of hair with his gloved hand.

“The night duty squad is handling another case on the other side of the city. We know the neighborhood like the back of our hands,” Changbin gives him a hard smack on the chest, only to wince quietly later to himself. Ugh, I’m so out of shape. “If anything, we have the best chance to catch up to the culprit.”

Hyunjin protests with a forced smile, “Shut up, Lieutenant, I know that.”

“Alright, let’s review,” Felix hops into the conversation, clasping his hands together in feigned excitement. “Someone dialed 911 with a murder case on the line. The culprit, escaped or not, we’re still uncertain of. But they did leave behind a witness.”

His coworkers nod simultaneously as he recaps what Seungmin told him on the phone earlier and the three of them find themselves standing right before the provided address. The house seems oddly quiet for someone getting murdered. “Right, chances are they’re still in there. We’d better-”

The front door comes flying open. A woman dressed in her nightgown collapses to the ground instantly, fear echoing through the rumble of her voice. “Help! P-Please! Mr. Yuuki! He-He’s dying! Please, I beg you! Save him!” With her face buried in her hands, a wave of laughter bubbles up her windpipe, shaking her core tremendously. “They did it again! They’ve claimed another victim!”

Changbin is the first one to step up, helping the housekeeper to her feet. “Miss, please try your best to stay calm. Everything is alright now, we’re here because you did the right thing of calling us. You’re safe with us,” he gently supports her by the shoulders, his voice soft but serious. “If it’s okay for me to ask, what exactly happened to Mr. Yuuki? Is there anyone else inside?”

The housekeeper seems to still be shaken. Tears are threatening to fall but she bites them back, shaking her head to answer the second question first. “N-No, Mr. Yuuki has a son but he’s currently studying in Europe so I’m the only one other than…”

Her voice trails off, the pools of tears in her eyes are clouded with those moments of horror she wishes she could erase forever. “It was horrible! I-I was having trouble sleeping before a strange sound woke me up completely. Someone was singing. Th-The culprit was singing. And there was s-so much blood. Mr. Yuuki was hung upon the chandelier when I went downstairs! So-So much blood. I didn’t know how- or why- I- I don’t know! I don’t know! I don’t know!”

“Miss, please try to stay calm. I won’t ask you any more questions, I am not here to interrogate you,” Changbin exhales deeply, looking over at his underlings. “Hyunjin, go check up on Mr. Yuuki. Felix, look for the culprit. I’ll call Seungmin for more back-ups.”

The two officers comply, “Roger that.”

Entering the house, Felix is bathed in a whirlwind of chilling silence and utter darkness. The smell of blood makes something inside him twitch, prompting him to look over at his friend. “I’ll go upstairs, you stay down here and handle the body until Jisung or Seungmin comes.”

The Sergeant advances up the long flight of stairs with his gun clutched between his hands. Almost immediately, he takes notice in the stream of moonlight illuminating the end of the hallway and rushes toward the wide-opened door. His figure barges into the room with caution and is met with the night breeze kissing his face and white curtains fluttering gently.

Just then, a loud bang is heard in the distance.

Felix feels himself tense up, eyes darting from one place to another in hopes of finding- there! On the rooftop from across the streets.

In a heartbeat, he picks up his transceiver and speaks, “I have eyes on the suspect. Pursuing on foot.” With his feet on the window frame and his arms on the tiles of the roof, he manages to lift himself while his muscles contract in pain. Facing forward, Felix begins to sprint.

The wind screams into his ears, his feet flying over steel and leaves. His shoes pound heavily across the hard surface, causing what’s remaining of the downpour this morning to slash up his legs. From one rooftop to another, his calves burn tremendously yet he keeps darting past houses, buildings, and trees with his eyes glued onto the shadow before his eyes.

Adrenaline courses throughout his system; he can feel his whole body working, his leg muscles running warm, a thin layer of sweat covers his nape. The cold air keeps biting at his blood and lungs but he keeps his breaths as steady as he can, pushing harder and going faster. For a split moment, his foot slips when his mind is frantic with cloudy thoughts. How is it possible for one to move this fast?

The hooded figure a few feet ahead of him speaks volumes in the silence; they’re running. They’re running like the devil himself is in pursuit. Only it’s worse because the felon is flesh and blood and means to send people straight to hell just the same way. His breathing quickens at the thought process, trying to appease his need for oxygen.

Several thuds of footfalls later, he finally decreases the proximity although fresh air now shocks his lungs, making him want to spurt and pass out in exhaustion. His body trembles from the consistent pace he’s forced himself into, yet his hands lift the firearm swiftly, his gaze shaking with the pounding inside his chest.

It only takes so much strength to pull the trigger. He shouldn’t be hesitating like this. Felix stops himself completely, regains his composure, and raises his gun once again. He elects to ignore the blood roaring in his ears, the throbbing of his anxious heart, and squeezes the trigger.

The bullet cuts through air and comes flying toward the wanted figure, missing them by a strand of hair. His face contorts in anger as he mumbles out a curse word. He missed. He shouldn’t have. He can’t miss. Missing isn’t an option.

Felix pumps his legs, gaining momentum with each push. But it feels gut-wrenching all of a sudden after a few thrusts forward—his body is giving in. He watches the culprit quicken their pace until their steps turn into leaps. Just a few more feet and they’ll jump the other side of the neighborhood.

He won’t make it in time.

Three. Two. One. The figure gathers enough strength and takes one final leap into the night. His heart immediately drops to the pit of his stomach, every movement comes to a full stop like the sudden stretch of silence within his rib cage.

“Shit!” He perks up at the scream and glass shattering. “Ow! Ah! Ouch! Ugh…” And...dogs barking?

“Oh come on!”

four.

His feet slip outwards on the wet autumn leaves as he rounds the corner, his breaths coming out in spurts, hot and nervous as he inhales deeper, faster. With each footfall, a jarring pain shoots ankle to knee, ankle to knee. Perhaps jumping off someone’s rooftop in a time crunch wasn’t the smartest decision.

“Give me a break. Do you have any idea how much time it took me to outrun those dogs?”

“I won’t let you slip away. It’s best for either party if you cooperate. Don’t do anything foolish and mercy might be an option,” Felix clicks a bullet into the chamber, gaze falling onto the hooded figure.

In the dim light that oozes through a narrow gap lies the alleyway. It's the underworld of any town: gloomy and unpleasant. Darkness is lurking in every corner inside the labyrinth of narrow passages and dead ends. Litter is dumped on the street and birds nest amongst the sprawling rot. Moonlight lights up the pathway for him, making it easier to back the felon up into the corner.

“One more step, officer, I dare you.” A warning like poison pours into his ears.

Although something seems different this time. They sound more frantic. Is there something that’s bothering them? “You just committed murder, you filthy scumbag. One more step, I dare you.”

“Oh, you’re so unoriginal,” they clutch their right arm and chuckle lightly. Felix squints his eyes with the limited source of light; inevitably, they go wide upon seeing crimson dripping to the ground. But as the second ticks by, less and less blood pour from the wound as though the muscles and skin are simultaneously closing up the seams.

What the hell am I looking at?

A smirk. “Don’t mind if I do.”

What are they... Wait, shit-

At the kind of speed he never thought humans could acquire, the hooded figure approaches him in what seems like seconds. The sudden whiplash blows the hood back and allows them to bathe in the moonlight raw.

“Say, what are you going to do with a filthy scumbag like me again?” Something sharp and shiny comes into contact with the warmth of his flesh but he can’t bring himself to register or counter it.

Your features flash before his eyes, glowing from within, leaving him in complete awe. Although you’re talking nothing but venom, pain is evident in the crease of your lovely brows and the way your lips are pressed into a straight line. Your eyes are deep pools of restless gold, an ocean of hopeless grief. There’s something so damn familiar about you. Felix almost finds himself resonating within your agony. He almost gasps.

In this growing light, your dark silhouette becomes full colors.

But why aren’t you moving? He’s completely open like this.

“You!” Your voice suddenly trembles and so do your pupils. “You-You’re-”

Snapping back to his senses, Felix leaves no time for you to finish your sentence and grabs your armed limb with one hand while striking a harsh blow at your stomach with the other. You let out a hushed wince at the impact, falling to the cement ground along with the blade in your palm. He swiftly flips you over, cuffs your hands, and puts his gun at the back of your head.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law.”

“Oh, spare me, Robin,” you involuntarily snort. “I’ll be gone before you can finish reading my rights.”

He nearly sneers, “Move an inch and I’ll put a bullet through your head. Your hands are cuffed, don’t you try to make your face worse than it already is.”

“I’m an Ace, darling. It’d be insulting if a pair of handcuffs and your scrawny little ass could stop me.”

His grip on the gun grows a fraction tighter, his heart starts beating faster at the name. “You work for the House of Cards?” The name rolls off his tongue bitterly, leaving a lick of fury consuming the rational side of his brain.

House of Cards—thieves, terrorists, assassins, dealers—the largest criminal organization that has been the dread of the country for decades. Just like the playing cards, the organization consists of four main groups: Diamonds, Clubs, Hearts, and Spades. The Kings and Queens lead these groups for they’re either new or incompetent for the higher ranks. The Jacks come second in commanding and are often advisors while the Jokers remain anonymous to all as messengers. The four Aces are the most trusted by the chairman and only take orders from him themselves.

“I do,” you reply flatly, a sigh going unnoticed. “Shouldn’t you be fleeing by now upon receiving this information?”

“A murder. A gunshot right across the street. A living witness,” he grits with a timid smile. “All that and you call yourself an Ace? We’ve encountered worse than amateurs like you. You’ll be rotting behind the bars before you know it.”

“I like your optimism, officer. Genuinely, it's a blessing for you to bring us light in this time of darkness,” you turn sideways, smirk, and make sure that he sees it. “Ignorance is truly bliss sometimes.”

Something inside him snaps, water overflows the cup and he instantly grabs you by your head, burying it further into dust and cement. “I don’t know who you think you are. But you clearly don’t know what I’m capable of and the fact that I will stop at nothing to bring your boss down. I will make him face justice as you’re hearing it from the news in prison. I’ve promised. I’ve sworn.”

“Oh?” You dare to glance at him again. “I never knew cops detested my boss so much. Or is it just you? Is your hatred personal? You’ve broken a protocol from the get-go, haven’t you? Is it the reason why you even became an officer in the first place?”

Shit, Felix curses inwardly as your words stab him in the chest, twisting the tip of the blade deeper and deeper as though you’re not allowing him to breathe properly. His hands start shaking; the vibration against your nape makes you exhale, drawing yet another grin on your lips. “Tell me, who did they kill?”

To hell would he ever tell you.

“A family member?” Focus.

“Your loved one?” Cover your ears.

“Or a close friend, perhaps?” One wrong move.

His shaking freezes midway, his voice comes out monotonous. “Shut up.” And you’ll die.

“Bingo,” you feign excitement before clearing your throat. “Also, I wouldn’t pull the trigger if I were you. Because I am your best asset to get to my boss. You and I aren’t so different, trust me. After all, we both want his head.”

He yelps in surprise when you twist your back slightly, swinging your arm and elbowing his jaw while disarming him simultaneously. With a swing of your leg, he loses his balance on the knees and lands harshly on his back.

With your knife pointed at his neck, your orbs bore onto his like you’re about to set him on fire. He gulps nervously, “What? How did you?”

“Listen up, I have a deal for you.”

You were injured, how could you risk tearing your wound up like that? His chest rises then falls inconsistently, eyes darting to your forearm. It’s no longer bleeding. There’s no way!

“...what are you?”

“Call me what you want. Murderer. Killer. An assassin. A monster.”

Felix squirms under your grip, spatting in aggression, “If so, you’re daydreaming if you have the audacity to believe that I will get my hands bloodied with you.”

“I’m not telling you to pick a side, officer. I’m just trying to say that I know something you don’t and you know something I don’t. If we pool our information we might actually have a good shot at capturing the bastard. If you brought me back to headquarters now, I’d escape either way and you’d get nothing from me. But if you pretend like our encounter never happens, you’ve got yourself a new partner.”

“What feud do you have with your boss so bad that you’re willing to work with a police officer like me?”

“I never considered him as my boss. I never considered the organization as a place that I belonged to. No one knows who the leader is. I’ve been tracking him down for years already.”

“...what? That’s-“

“They killed someone very important to me, too.”

five.

Chan murmurs tiredly at the knock on his door, “Who’s there?”

“Sergeant Lee’s present to report on the assassin from last night, Chief.”

“Come in.”

Chan fixes his collar as Felix closes the door shut, strides straight into his office, and collapses on the nearest armchair. Usually, he’d be complaining about the lack of sunlight in the Chief’s working space. Because like any other civil office, there are enough windows for one not to choke to death but Chan has made a habit of keeping them close. Now, he decides to open the blinds and lets the light in completely, prompting Felix to throw an arm over his eyes dramatically.

“Shut it. The lights are killing me,” he groans aloud, forehead creasing in frustration. Focus.

Chan says pointedly, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms, “But you look like shit.”

“Of course I look like shit. You should try chasing down an Ace yourself some time. Really, it’s been a pleasant distraction from my unfinished paperwork and impotent stress,” the junior officer mumbles, dropping his arm and staring blankly at the space ahead.

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Chan sighs, sitting back. “It just makes sense, you know. Yuuki and his neighbor were moles the Yakuza planted in that filthy organization. No wonder their leader had to send one of the four Aces to finish him off.”

Felix closes his eyes for a moment, resting his arms on his knees, the muscles are still aching from last night’s incident. His fingers unconsciously reach for his bare neck, tracing the shallow cut as goosebumps bubble upon his skin. Focus. “Enough being mopey,” Chan grins and slaps something cold against his cheek, causing his friend to jolt up in surprise. “Aren’t you here to report?”

He flashes Felix a cheeky smile when the younger clenches the cold towel on his face in annoyance. Nonetheless, there’s a twinge of faint nostalgia and affection lighting up inside his stomach—the kind that comes from long-time friends. “Alright, I gotta come back to my desk before Changbin goes off about my productivity anyway.”

“Good, elaborate,” Chan whips out a pen with his crusty notebook, eyes narrowing and turning serious.

“The Ace escaped,” Felix starts, “After checking in with Yuuki’s housekeeper, Hyunjin and I went inside the house. He handled the body while I was heading upstairs. I pursued them as soon as I heard the gunshot from across the streets. I only managed to wound them from afar, but it’s not enough to slow them down. They were too fast so I was outpaced at the end.”

The Chief raises a dark brow, eyeing the cut on his throat, “I can see that you’re injured, too. Did they shoot you? Seungmin only found a semi-auto pistol next to the second victim.”

“No… I did this to myself during the chase,” Felix touches his wound again, gulping, “They only carried a knife, of all the things.” Don’t be obvious. You can’t risk getting them to suspect you.

“You couldn’t get close enough to see if we’re dealing with a man or a woman, right?” Chan then casts a meaningful look at the mountain of unfiled paperwork upon his desk, feigning interest in the light reading that awaits him for the rest of the day.

“Unfortunately, no. They have a good physique, clearly well-trained and more skilled than the little fries we’d managed to throw behind the bars,” Felix shakes his head, eventually pushing himself off the black armchair. “What about the housekeeper? According to what I’m able to recall, she did, in fact, see the Ace.”

Chan wants to scream at the mention, fingers massaging his temples. “That woman is far too traumatized to even speak a word right now. She’s been giving Seungmin headaches all morning.”

“Yeah, about that...sorry, I couldn’t be more helpful,” Felix bites his lips as he can feel his own lies suffocating the space around him, filling his lungs with water and squeezing at his windpipe. He needs to get the fuck out of here.

The Chief chuckles lightly and waves his hands, “No, no, we’re all kinda impressed, actually. No one has ever been able to propose a mere chase with them before. It’s already a miracle that you came back alive.”

His heart instantly sinks, his fists curl up unconsciously. Felix could have died. He should have died last night. But you hesitated. Why? Why would you spare him? And why were you looking at him like that? “Hey.” A hand on his shoulder snaps him out of it. “Don’t worry about it. You should take a day off today. You look unwell.”

“But-”

A figure lands soundlessly on Chan’s balcony, swiftly turning around to face Felix.

His brain stutters for a moment and his eyes take in more light than they should, still, they widen when shock riddles his senses. Every part of his body tries to catch up and his thoughts go on a dreadfully long pause. It’s you. Standing in broad daylight without anything to cover up. Distanced a few feet from his grasp.

One shout and you’ll be cuffed in mere moments. It’d be insulting if a pair of handcuffs and your scrawny little ass could stop me. His precinct has been desperate, ramming into one dead-end after another for a single lead to House of Cards.

Felix can turn you in right here. Right now. If you brought me back to headquarters now, I’d escape either way and you’d get nothing from me.

“That is an order, Sergeant,” Chan grins, not noticing how pale his friend has gotten in such mere moments. “You’ll collapse the moment you head out for patrol, trust me.”

“No, Chan! You don’t understand, I-”

“Do it,” you mouth, sealing his lips instantly.

“I just didn’t get enough sleep last night. I’ll take a nap in the infirmary.” You slap on a devilish smile at his words, wiggling your phone high enough for him to see.

As soon as Felix closes the door behind him, the spike in his heartbeat finally falls with the stiff smile on his face, his breaths short and uneven. The urge to punch something is cut short when his phone vibrates timely. A message from an unknown number: “Ten PM. The waterfall in Yellow Woods. You’ve got one chance.”

six.

Felix has underestimated the cold since nightfall. His muscles ache and shiver all at the same time, momentarily yelling at him to turn around to head back to the comfort of his family’s mansion. Yet the dark Yellow Woods seems to silence time and space, only leaving him with the urge to march forward.

He lied to Chan about your encounter, lied to Changbin so he wouldn’t have to go on his night shift, lied to Hyunjin that he’d go home and rest like his friend always told him to. Humans have been taught not to lie but deception still exists and one cannot escape its grasp. Even Felix never knew there would be a day where he’d become this desperate. Just thinking about it makes him want to vomit, utterly disgusted.

Clutching his gun tightly, he begins walking faster into the light fog.

“My my, look who it is.” His frantic steps come to a halt, his head snapping back immediately. “Someone was so hellbent on giving me a headshot the last time we met. What changed?”

Felix raises a brow in confusion. “What the- Didn’t you ask me to meet up at the waterfall?”

“The waterfall is the other way, you fool,” you jerk your head back, clearly unimpressed.

“Cut me some slack, my phone was dead! Wait, how did you- were you stalking me?!”

You can’t help but stifle a chuckle; his face is priceless. “Tracking sounds more appropriate, don’t you think?”

“You-”

“You’d better pick up the pace if you want to survive this little partnership of ours, officer.”

Eventually, he complies and stumbles through the woods with you, his feet feeling like they’re being dragged across cement. During the day, Yellow Woods is alight with the serenity one yearns for at their lowest, birds chirping and leaves rustling to one united song of Mother Nature. In contrast, it is now hollow, colorless, almost empty to a sense with all this darkness around him.

“I never said that we had a deal,” Felix says while trailing after you, cautious not to trip over any branches.

You turn around for a meager moment, giving him that sly grin of yours. “Suppose that you do, we need a contract. Some simple protocols between comrades. What do you expect from me? Keep it simple. Excessive details bore the shit out of me.”

“First, no with-holding information. If you know something, I need to know it and vice versa. Second, no personal questions. I don’t want you in my life nor do I want me getting my hands dirty with you.”

You hum in response, “Hmm, short and sweet. But I have my own as well.”

He gulps, “Go on.”

“I don’t work with dogs. I don’t care if it’s licensed as emotional support. I won’t hesitate to shoot if you even let one do so much as breathe in the same room as me.”

“...that makes way too much sense.” So that explains why-

“What about you? Afraid of the dark?”

“I wasn’t born this morning.”

To the East lies the waterfall you’ve mentioned this morning, which you lead him down a dirt road and right behind it, straight into a small cave. There are two paths diverged that catch him by surprise but there’s nothing he can do other than taking the left side, hastily following the source of light from your phone. Your final destination unveils before his eyes as a small, underground lair.

Felix suddenly feels cold for no reason. “How do you even sleep?” He scrunches his nose while rubbing his hands together.

“I don’t,” you say without looking at him, exhaling and shrugging off your coat. “Make yourself at home. I’ll go heat up some tea before you freeze to death.”

Not knowing what to do with himself, his eyes roll around the seemingly confined but commodious space in curiosity. Your working desk is as big as the one in the conference back at headquarters, mounted with an overwhelming amount of files. To the right, the wall is lined with weapons, target boards, and rag dolls; you seem to prefer blades over firearms. The whole place is lighted up with candles all around, giving it that eerie feeling like something straight out of an old movie.

Still, not bad.

His careless feet drag him across the concrete, subconsciously reaching out for the files on your desk. He can’t fight the urge, he can’t resist it. Before his mind can register and his conscience can yell at him, the plastic binder is already yanked open. Experiment #180108–Y/N, it reads. “What the hell… Enhanced strength and agility… Instant self-healing… Metamorphosis? Is this what they’ve been doing under our noses all this time?”

“No, only my parents.” Your voice snaps him out of it, prompting him to drop the files. “Your office was giving me anxiety, by the way. Thank god for home sweet home.”

“What the hell were you doing in my-“ A dagger flies past his head, missing him by a strand of hair and ending up embedding itself on the bull’s eye of a nearby target. “Daughter of a bastard,” he breathes out in disbelief, eyes boring holes on you. “What kind of tea was that?!”

“Lee Felix. Only son of the Prime Minister. Ranked Sergeant at the eighth precinct, Seoul P.D. The precious heir to one of the five great families.” Words leave you. You only stare into those bright, brown eyes burning with anger, his heart almost falling silent. “Gosh, you’ve got quite the profile. Shouldn’t you be worried about the image of your family instead of shaking hands with the devil like this?”

Felix clenches his jaw, everything is slow and warbled as he looks down, shaking violently. “And yet you still thought I’d be crazy enough to make a deal with an Ace?”

“You’re not crazy,” you sigh, grinning internally. “Just extremely desperate-“

“I am not desperate!” A lie spats out, leaving him with a bitter aftertaste. “I have no reason to be.” Focus.

A mocking shrug. “Right, you’re not desperate. You just followed me all the way here without taking out your gun or rambling on with your boring death threats. Like a little, perfect pet. Exactly what I needed.”

“Death threats don’t work on monsters,” he croaks, fists balled and eyes wide. Even so, the way you gaze darken still goes unnoticed. “I’ve seen your kind kill anyone without hesitation. Getting blood on your hands without even blinking. You, all of you, aren’t humans anymore. You’re all a complete write-off of a species.”

Felix lifts his head, pupils trembling at the sight in front of him. For a moment there, you look sad and broken. Raw, naked, and vulnerable like the rest of humanity. It makes him ponder, how can humans be so weak yet so cruel at the same time?

“...why? Why are you doing this?” he inquires shakily, head racing with a thousand thoughts. “I don’t understand. Actually, there’s a lot that I don’t understand about you.” No! Focus, you idiot!

“You don’t have to.” Finally, you speak after the long dread of silence, combing a hand through your hair tiredly. “You know. It’s funny how the same thing happened to us. And now look at where we ended up individually.”

His brain pauses and chokes up. “What are you saying?” Cover your ears. Do not be misled!

You look away, simply knowing that you won’t be able to hold it in if you’re making eye contact. “I know you’re not the rightful heir of the Lees. You weren’t part of the bloodline in the first place. You’re simply a replacement. A second option. Nothing but an afterthought-“

“No! Shut up! Just shut u-“ Cover your ears. Do not trust anyone!

“—the real heir supposedly went missing during the Eiji Station tragedy where my organization ordered a bombing fifteen years ago. It’s been over a decade and they’ve already concluded his death even though a body was never found. Am I right, officer?”

Choose the wrong path.

Felix buries his face into the palms of his hands as streaks of silvery tears burn his cheek. His exhausted shoulders shake in each rake of emotion through his frame, the fire of anger and despair boils past the seams he can no longer hold together. With his knees weak, he can only sob and drops down on his knees, screaming with all his might.

And you’ll die.

But even you, the devil itself, can’t save the man who’s drowning himself in his own tears of hell.

“Welcome to the team. The name is Y/N,” you offer him a hand, blankly eyeing his quivering figure. He finally picks himself up with difficulties, eyes glowing with tears and fury. After a split moment of hesitation, his hand reaches for yours, firmly clasped and sealing your deal.

Because he’s falling down the same bottomless abyss with you.

Because you both couldn’t save him. You couldn’t save Minho.

epilogue.

__ fifteen years ago

“Hey, Minho, you’re really good at playing the piano. Are you gonna be a musician?”

“Hmm, I do like music. But I’d rather become a police officer.

“Why? Didn’t you say that you like music?”

“I’ll become anything for my mother.”

“Then, I’ll be a doctor when I grow up! And we can save people together.”

“Okay. It’s a promise, Lix.”

169 notes · View notes

sundaysundaes · 4 years ago

Text

Iridescent

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

An epilogue to Monochrome. Contains HEAVY SPOILERS, so please read Monochrome and Spectra before you read this.

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

Broken bones can be mended and bruises may vanish over time, but what befell Lee Donghyuck after the accident was deeper than fractures and scars. It took him five days to wake up from his comatose sleep, eight months for his body to fully recuperate, and another ten months in rehabilitation to overcome his trauma and mental state. But even then, he was never the same. He would never be the same.

As he could never be able to see the light again.

“Vision loss may strike as a devastating injury that could change your life,” his doctor once said during his regular check-up, “But it doesn’t mean that your life has ended, nor should you stop living. There’s still a beautiful world out there waiting for you. It may feel hard today or tomorrow, but you will get through this. You will get better.”

But to Donghyuck, they sounded like a string of murmurs as if the older man was drowning but still trying to mouth the words to him. Or maybe he was the one who was drowning instead, with no chance to resurface. And he didn’t mind, not at all. He wasn’t sure he had the will to do it anyway.

A gentle caress of warm fingertips and a voice as smooth as a lullaby to a child’s ears were the only ones who kept him sane. She was there, from the very first day he’d opened his eyes and seen nothing, and she continued to stay, no matter how much he’d cried in agony or screamed from bottled-up anger. She would hug him when the thought of hurting himself became too much to bear, and she would tell him over and over again, how lucky she was to have him alive and breathing in her arms. And she would still call him in the same way—Haechannie, Haechannie—between loving words that were filled with nothing but honesty, even if he no longer shone as bright as the sun.

She was the sole reason why he continued living, though not truly alive. The only one who gave comfort to his shattered heart and soul. To him, there would be no life without her.

On the day he was discharged from the hospital, dressed in his favorite white tee and a knitted navy-blue sweater she often borrowed to wear around her figure, his chocolate brown hair was long and untrimmed, nearly brushing against his collar. His skin was starting to lose its beautiful tan, and his collar bones were protruding from how much he had lost weight during his recovery. His matching dark eyes were slightly opened and they shone in a soft glow under the sun, but they were as lifeless as the waves before the storm.

But to her, he was still a sight to behold.

Pushing his bangs out of his eyes with her fingertips, she smiled. “I haven’t seen you standing under the sun for a long time,” she said, mesmerized by the way his hair was fluttering under the wind. “My Haechannie is so pretty.”

He responded by kissing her inner palm and they hugged once before she accompanied him walking down the stairs.

“One step at a time, okay, Haechannie?”

Her voice was always warm, always filled with the passion of life, as if she was trying hard to be happy for his sake as well. And it made him feel various emotions at once, from the elation of having someone as patient and loving as her nurture him back to health, from agony for being the one who always caused her trouble, and from fear of losing her if one day she woke up and decided to not love him again.

“Don’t let go of my hand. I’m here with you, Haechannie. I always will be.”

Her promise found its way to his heart, and instead of making him feel drowned like anybody else, she was the one who pulled him out of the water.

“I won’t,” Donghyuck said, tattered voice escaping chapped lips. “As long as you’d let me.”

He couldn’t see her smile, but he could somehow sense it in the way she let out her breath, in the way she squeezed his hand, in every time she spoke his name.

“I got permission from your parents to take you somewhere today before we head back home,” she mentioned before a small, excited giggle tumbled down her lips. He was sitting in what he supposed to be his father’s car by the smell of it, and he let himself stay in silence as she dragged a seatbelt forward and tied it around his body with a click. “I hope you don’t mind taking a walk because I’ve been dying to go on a date with my boyfriend.” He could hear her placing her seatbelt and the sound of dangling keys. The car engine soon started with a stutter and Donghyuck’s fingers immediately tried to find reassurance by sinking their nails into the edge of his seat, his heart ramming against his ribcages.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She hastily laced their fingers together, stealing his shivers away with how firm she held on to his hand. “Breathe, Haechannie. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you, do you hear me?”

It reminded him of their old days when she tried to protect him with a plastic sword from the monster that hid under his bed. She still had the same effects on him as to how she did back then, clouding his entire mind with the feeling of safety and assurance.

He followed her guidance and tried to smile even when his throat felt like burning and his heart trying to find its way to leap out of his chest. “I’ll—” he swallowed when an inevitable crack appeared in his voice. “I’ll be fine.”

There was a pause and he desperately wanted to see what kind of expression she had on her face, but the thought went away when he felt a pair of lips meeting his in a soft, chaste kiss.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding somewhat shy when she parted away but close enough for him to feel her breath on his face. “I know you’re shaking in fear and a kiss would probably be the last thing you wanted right now, but…” She brushed her thumb along his lower lip, yearning for him. “I really miss you.”

Given the situation, perhaps it wasn’t the right thing to do but to him, it was exactly what he needed. She made him feel wanted, made him feel like his existence did matter to her more than just as a burden. So Donghyuck blindly reached out to her, searching for her hands, her face, her everything, and she met him halfway, lips melding into his as naturally as breathing.

To her, he still felt the same—just as warm, just as pleasant, just as passionate although his touch felt frail on her skin. Donghyuck was still Donghyuck she remembered, the one who reminded her of the sun, and how his entire presence made her feel joy in the way no one had ever given to her before.

She was devastated when she nearly lost her sun. Countless nights were spent with her crying with her face sinking at the sheet of his hospital bed, just a few moments after he fell into his slumber with lines of tears smearing his cheeks. She had always tried to be strong in front of him and his family, but when she was alone in the dark, listening to his soft breathing as he slept, she would allow herself to break apart, just for a few moments.

Those five days when he was in his comatose state was the loneliest, most painful time she had to endure in all her years of living. Her fingers were desperately squeezing his just to feel a slight movement and she had called and called and called but he never answered. Her life was suddenly as dark as the night, where the moon had crumbled to dust with stars transforming into black holes.

So when he finally opened his eyes, her name escaping his lips, she felt like she was being reborn, finding back her purpose in life and there would be no way, no matter how hard it would be for them, for her to let go of her sun again.

“I love you,” she whispered between kisses, finding her way back to his lips with a sense of urgency every time, “I love you, Haechannie.” Fingers curling against his soft locks, lips moving from his mouth, nose, temple, cheek, before they went back to the start with shy tongues darting only to take a hint of how they other tasted. “Don’t ever leave me again. Please.”

It was he who should’ve spoken those words. It was he who should’ve begged her to stay. So knowing that she felt the same way, Donghyuck whimpered against her mouth, lifeless eyes began to spark in the way they used to.

***

He didn’t know where she was taking him away but by the briny scent that traveled the air, he muttered his guess, “Are we going to the beach?”

“Correct. Any idea which one?”

“The… The one where we spent our summer vacation?”

“Try being more specific.”

He curled his fingers, flush bloomed on his cheeks. “The one where I confessed my feelings for you for the first time?”

A soft chuckle. “That’s right. The one where you made my heart flutter, as promised.”

“I didn’t know I succeeded at that time.”

“You’ve always won against me, Haechannie. Even if I did win at something, it was only because you’d let me.”

The trip was a three-hour drive from the hospital, and they filled the silence by recalling their memories or humming songs to whatever the radio was playing. She begged him to sing, but he was only brave enough to do it after the fifth time she’d tried, and although he hated the croaky sound he made from his throat, she squeezed his thigh, saying, “Thank you for making me so happy.” He wasn’t sure what she was referring to—was it his voice or his entire existence?—but he realized he didn’t care, as long as he could fulfill his sole purpose of living.

The evening sun was warm on his face when she opened the car door and guided him to step forward into the sand, his sneakers sinking slightly into it under his weight. “Careful,” she reminded, circling one hand around his waist as he shakily wrapped his around her shoulder. “Can you smell the air?”

He could smell the scent of her strawberry shampoo. “Yeah. Salty.”

She quietly laughed. “Do you want to get closer to the water?”

“I’m…” The thought of him not wanting to trouble her was heavier than his desire. “I’m fine here.”

There was a pause, which made him ponder whether he said something wrong but then she huffed loudly. “You’re no fun. Well, we’re going to get, at least, our feet wet, whether you like it or not. So come on, keep up with me, slowpoke.”

Hearing that coming from a girl who didn’t even want to get sand on her shorts was something that made his entire body feel warm, and the sun had no part in it.

She helped him untie his sneakers, rolled up his jeans to his knees before she pushed him slowly into the water. He could feel the waves meeting his skin, could imagine how it would look like—the sand being carried away by the pressure of the water, his feet sinking a little deeper into the ground, perhaps a strand of seaweed catching around his bare toe.

“The sun is setting,” she said and he could somehow hear the grin in her voice. “Isn’t it romantic?”

“I guess.” He felt her wrapping her arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna take you dancing.” Her smile was sheepish, her cheeks reddening almost the same color as the glow that illuminated her features. “Oh, wait. I forgot the music.”

“Noona—”

“Just a sec.” She held up a finger to his lips as she fiddled with her phone with her other hand. “Where’s that song you—oh, here it is.”

Donghyuck could hear the song—the exact same song he’d played back then when he’d asked her to do the same thing under the starry sky. “You’re right,” he murmured with a weak smile, as she tucked her phone back into her coat’s pocket. “I should’ve picked a better song. Thinking Out Loud is way too overrated.”

“It’s okay, it’s been growing on me these days. Been using it as my alarm even.”

Her giggle was adorable and gleeful while his was soft, almost inaudible. “Is that so…”

She caressed his face, eyes becoming tender when she noticed him leaning more to her touch. “I’ve missed hearing you laugh.”

Donghyuck’s breath hitched a little so he stayed in reticence. The sound of the wind and the crashing waves were louder than her speaker, so she urged him to sing, knowing that he already remembered the song by heart. He disinclined at first but he grew soft at her pleading.

As he began to hum along the first chorus, she stroke the skin on his nape soothingly with her fingertips. “Have I told you about the day when I realized I loved you?”

He smiled, another flashback hitting him like the soft waves around his feet. “Enlighten me, please.”

“There were two different times, actually.” She leaned closer, swaying their bodies side-to-side ever so slightly. “The first time I realized I felt something for you was back when we were still in junior high. An asshole in my class stole my sketchbook and you got into a fight to retrieve it back—even though you said you got your bruises from tripping down the stairs. I felt so happy knowing that there was someone out there who cared a lot about me.”

“I did trip down the stairs, actually.”

“Of course, you did.” But like the old days, she saw right through his lies. “The second time was when we were celebrating your birthday. I wore this yellow dress that looked way too tacky for the occasion and people were looking at me weird. And you stayed by my side, ignoring everybody in the house even though it was your birthday, and you told me that I was the prettiest girl in the room.”

He hummed in agreement. “Prettier than me even.”

“That’s right.” She snickered but her tone gradually turned into something more sincere. “So when I told you that you were my first love, I wasn’t lying nor was I exaggerating. I’ve loved you just as long as you have, I just wasn’t brave enough to admit it unlike you. And I still regret that, even to this day. We wasted so many days, and I hurt you so many times—”

“It’s okay.” He shook his head, his closed eyes somehow began to feel hot. “It’s in the past.”

She broke down into another smile, fingers reaching out to swat his bangs away from his face. “You’re right. We still have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

When he suddenly became mute, it made her heart thump faster in anxiety. But Donghyuck soon tugged her closer into his chest, his arms enveloping her entire figure and she sighed in relief as he laid his chin on top of her head.

“What are you wearing?” He asked, his lips brushing against her hair.

“Only in my skimpy bra and g-string, lover.”

“No, I’m serious.” He could feel his laugh reverberating from his chest and it still felt unfamiliar after all this time. “Describe it to me in detail. I want to imagine the scenery.”

She was smiling but her eyes grew softer. “I’m wearing that red dress you said you loved.”

“O-oh…” He wetted his lips. “I didn’t realize that since you’re wearing—what is it, a coat?—“ She confirmed with a nod. “Right. What else?”

“My hair is untied, but I’ve cut it short since it became a nuisance whenever I have to go to work early and don’t have time to style my hair.”

“How short?”

“Short enough to show the necklace you gave me.”

His heart was loud in his ears, almost deafening. “You’re still wearing that?”

“Yes.” He could sense her moving away, sliding her hand down his arm in a silky-smooth touch before she intertwined their fingers. “Along with something else.”

“Wha—” He felt her guiding his fingers to trace hers and the second he touched it, it felt like his world was turning upside-down. “You’re wearing… a ring…” whether it was a question or a statement, he wasn’t clear himself.

“Yes,” she gently replied, moving even closer. “Want to guess what ring it is?”

His heart was in his throat. “Please don’t…” he shook his head, taking a step back. “Please don’t say it’s the engagement ring I was about to give you.”

But she didn’t need to answer, because what else could it be?

She reached out for him but he slapped her hand away when it reached his sleeve. “Haechannie—”

Donghyuck tripped on his feet, falling to his knees and felt the ocean swallowing him inch-by-inch, seawater seeping into his clothes. His face was nowhere near the water and yet he was gasping frantically for air, his chest suffocating and sending jolts of pain to his entire body.

He could hear her shouting his name in concern, could tell the panic in her voice, but how could he comfort her when he couldn’t even help himself?

The world was swirling in his head even when he could only perceive the darkness with his eyes. His stomach lurched as he coughed multiple times, throat burning in flames.

“Oh God, okay, you’re having a panic attack,” she sounded breathy, afraid, as she clutched her hands around his shoulders. “Breathe with me. Haechannie, focus, I need you to breathe.”

He had a hand on his chest while his other one was sinking deep in the sand. The memory of the accident—how it ruined everything he had planned for her, for himself, and the future they were about to face together—and knowing how useless he had become, to simply reduce himself into nothing but a burden who couldn’t even pass through a door without help, made him feel like his world was ending.

She pulled him into an embrace, sinking his face into the crook of her neck—a habit he once grew fond of—and whispered his name over and over again until it sounded like a prayer, steadying his heartbeat little by little with every second passing by. She only hugged him even tighter when he managed to calm his breathing. “You’re okay,” she exhaled in relief, “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

He brought his hand to the back of her head, feeling her strands under his fingers and finally noticing how short it was. “You should let me go,” he whispered, voice quivering.

Whether he was talking about her embrace or letting him out of her life, she didn’t care. The answer was the same for both. “No.”

“I’m fine now.”

“Well, I’m not. I want to stay like this.” Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his sweater. “Let me stay like this.”

He kept still but he no longer answered her hug, letting his arms fell loose on the side of his body. “Why did you wear the ring?”

“Because I want to.”

It soothed him a little that she answered with those words and not “Because it’s something you wanted to give me and I know how much you want me to wear it.”

He noticed her body shivering as their knees were still buried in the sand, engulfed in seawater. “We should move. It’s getting colder.”

She eventually nodded, helping him up to his feet and went back to their car, immediately turning the heater on before she carried him to the back seat where they settled close next to each other.

“Are you cold?” She asked, her voice quivering as she took her half-drenched coat off. “Guess it wasn’t a smart idea going back to the beach in autumn, huh?” He didn’t answer, too busy maintaining his composure so he wouldn’t freak out again. “Your clothes are soaked, we should get you changed. I brought some spare with me. Oh, and a blanket too.”

She was doing enough talking for both of them to fill the silence so Donghyuck kept his lips pressed tightly shut and followed her order, lifting his hands so she could pull his sweater over his head. She unbuttoned his shirt, blushing a little when his chest and stomach came into view, reminding her of the times where they spent their days raking nails down each other’s skin, exchanging wanton moans between wet kisses.

When he was left only in his jeans, she unzipped her dress, the clothing falling off her shoulders before she slipped it off her body entirely. Grabbing a blanket from the trunk, she scooted over to his place, wrapping the fabric around both of their bodies. She took his hand in hers, rubbing his cold one with hers over and over until he stopped shivering. “You really are sensitive to cold,” she mumbled to herself, “Warm enough?”

“You should’ve just thrown it away.”

She abruptly stopped moving, hands freezing as they were holding him mid-air. “What?”

“The ring,” he murmured, sliding his hand away from hers and bringing it down to his lap. “It doesn’t have any meaning now, so…”

She took her time to reply, begging herself to stay calm even when the pain was tearing her apart. Her tone was expressively hurt when she finally spoke, “You don’t want to marry me anymore?”

He could feel his jaw tightening. “Do you still want to marry me?”

“Yes, just as much as I did on the day you proposed to me for the first time. If not more.”

She answered him fast and firm, without a trace of hesitation or doubts. But the fear that his thoughts screamed at him echoed louder in his head, reducing her promise to sound nothing more than a whisper being carried by the wind. To him, she seemed like she was about to cry, and perhaps she was, but not because she had doubts about marrying him. She was heartbroken because he appeared like he was forcing her to do something she disgusts, when marrying him had been her wish all along.

If he could see her, he would’ve seen the hurtful look that painted her face. She became mute, averting her focus to her hands that laid frozen on her lap. “Haechannie,” she eventually called, “When I think of you, what do you think comes into my mind?”

A liability. A deadweight. Someone you should abandon to make your life bearable. But he stayed as soundless as the night.

“Do you think I’m doing all of this because I’m forced to do it?” Her voice was soft, but he could sense a hidden rage between her words. “Because I’m obliged to take care of you as your girlfriend—your fiancee?”

“It’s not that, it’s—” He spluttered, turning to look at her although his eyes could only see the darkness. “I just wasn’t sure it’s still the future you want us to have.“ He hesitated, his voice became quiet. “And I’m not sure whether you still want me in this condition—”

“Why are you saying that?” Her voice grew frantic. “That’s really—That’s not—“ She buried her face in her hands, her chest tightening. “I want you—of course, I want you. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

Somehow, her affection felt like a stabbing pain from all the self-loathe that bubbled in his chest. “But I’m not the same now.”

“Doesn’t mean that I’ll stop loving—God, Haechannie, why can’t you see that we—”

“That’s the fucking problem, isn’t it? I can’t see!” His voice was resonating loudly, colored with dismay and agony, muting the sound of waves crashing behind them. “I’m fucking blind! I don’t know what kind of face you wear around me these days. I can’t tell whether you’re lying or not when you say these words—”

“I will never lie to you—”

“Yes, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m afraid!” He broke apart, voice filled with quivers as it nearly reduced into short gasps. “I’m afraid of having you look at me like I’m a liability. I’m tired of trying to convince myself that I can be some kind of help to you when I can’t even button my fucking shirt properly. I want to marry you—God, I want to marry you so bad—but what do I have to offer? I can’t function like a normal person, I’ve lost my job, I’m going insane, and I can’t see a damn thing!”

The second he stopped speaking, only the sound of their surroundings could be heard, along with their ragged breathing. Donghyuck brought his face to the side, hiding half of his face behind his shaky fingers, inhaling a few times to control his breathing but failing on each try.

Her eyes began to water as well but she erased the tears before they could stroll down her face. “I’m not sure if you know this already but,” she said, forcing herself to smile between hot tears. “I know how you’d prepared everything that day. I was shocked when my mother told me that you’d asked for their permission to marry me. I didn’t know you were so serious about this. I was so happy, but even then, I wasn’t as happy as the day you finally woke up, five days after the accident. I was just so relieved that I could see you alive and breathing again—to hold you in my arms, to hear your voice saying my name. I know how devastating this feels to you, losing your vision so suddenly like this, and I know how insensitive I will sound to you but let me just say this.”

She reached out to him, cupping his cheek with one hand so he could turn his face around. His eyes were tightly shut, but his eyelashes were wet as they rested against his cheeks. “I don’t care that you’re blind,” she said, rubbing her thumb gently along his cheekbone. “And I don’t care if you can’t walk without hitting walls, or if you can’t make your own coffee or wear your own clothes—what I care about is that we’re both here, together, alive and well, and there is nothing in the world that could change my mind.” When he was about to turn away again, to be swallowed by his emotions, she held his face with both hands, forcing him to bare his soul in front of her eyes. “I’d rather have you in this state or worse, rather than losing you entirely, Haechannie. I need you just as much, if not more. So, if you could just trust me, please.”

Donghyuck laid his palm against the back of her hand. “You’re better off without me, Noona. And it’s not just because of how I am now. Bad things do happen when you ignore the signs and deny your soulmate—you should’ve been with Mark—”

“I don’t care about soulmates.” She was frustrated, he could tell, by the way he was so adamant about this. “Isn’t that what you said to me too back then?”

“I know, but seeing how this happened to me, I—”

“Haechannie,” she called, gripping his hand tightly until his knuckles turned white. “What happened to you is an accident. It has nothing to do with soulmates or fate—people get into accidents, these things happen—”

“Yes, I get that, but what if it’s not? I don’t care if anything happens to me, but I can’t—” He took a sharp intake of breath. “I can’t afford anything happening to you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Then do you want to spend your days alone instead of being with me?” Her tone was inscrutable, almost impersonal to his ears. “Be honest.”

Donghyuck bit his lip. “It doesn’t matter what I want—“

“Stop listening to your own thoughts. Listen to mine. Listen to what I’m saying.” Her temple was pressed against his, her breath fanning against his lips. “I need you, Hyuck. And if you’re too afraid to be with me, just like how I used to in the past, then let me fight for this. Let me fight for us the way you used to.” Her lips were so close to him that he could almost feel every syllable with his own. “And before you regret everything as much as I did about us, accept me.”

And just like a twig cracking under pressure, Donghyuck snapped.

He rushed to close the gap between them, his lips meeting another pair in a searing kiss and she gasped against his mouth, body tumbling backward to the seat with him pressing hotly against her. He finally let himself go, finally caved into his desires, finally devoted himself back to her like how he did in the past.

He was rushing everything, hands desperately clawing against every part of her skin that he could reach, his kiss frenzied. But all of that was a mere distraction so she wouldn’t be able to hear him whimpering against her mouth, lips quivering as he tried to contain his sobs.

“I love you,” he hastily said, holding her face with one hand as he kissed her fervently. “I’m sorry for hurting you over and over again—” The way he smashed his lips against hers was both bruising and comforting. “I just—I want you to be happy,” he groaned at the back of his throat when she tugged his lower lip between her teeth, “With or without me, I don’t care, as long as you’re happy, I—”

“With you,” she immediately confirmed, yanking against the strands of his hair as she peppered kisses down the column of his neck. “I’m only happy when I’m with you, Haechannie, so—” And she melded their lips together again, tongues sliding against one another, drowning in passion.

It was a mystery to her when Donghyuck said he wasn’t the same. He still felt like flames, burning her skin with his every touch, igniting sparks of fire in her heart with whispers of her name. But even if he was transforming into an entirely different person, she knew she would still dedicate herself to him either way.

There’s no life without you.

What started as a rush of a moment gradually turned into something slow where they began to savor each touch with more affection and less uncontrollable lust. As he needed her guidance, she switched their positions, letting Donghyuck sat with his spine pressed against the seat, the skin on his back sticking uncomfortably against the leather.

She noticed how he flinched more under her fingertips, sensitive to even a small graze of skin meeting skin. “Are you okay?” She asked, settling on his lap, straps of her bra falling off her shoulders.

He nodded anxiously, tilting his face so she could take the sign and kiss him again and she did, but her touch was paper-thin. “You seem nervous,” she commented, caressing his cheek in concern as he circled his arms around her waist.

“I am,” he admitted, cheeks turning rosy. “I’m going crazy because I can’t see you. I’m afraid that I’d do something wrong and make you feel—”

“Then I’ll let you know,” she assured him, thumb tracing his lower lip. “I’ll say everything if that’s what you want to know, so stop thinking too much.” She leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead before she brushed the tip of her nose against his. “And just… feel me more.”

Donghyuck let her take his hand and exhaled softly when she pressed it against her cheek, shaky fingertips began to trace her jawline, the shape of her lips, her chin, her neck. His eyes were closed but his eyebrows were furrowed deep in concentration, and she would’ve smiled at the sight if his touches weren’t scorching on her skin, enveloping her with sensations she had been longing for months.

His other senses were heightened, noticing her scent better, listening to every gasp, every moan of his name, feeling her veins, her small scars from her childhood days—everything.

“So beautiful,” he praised under his breath but she caught it, sending goosebumps all over her body. “A-are you okay?” He asked, noticing how she fidgeted and shifted her weight. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s just—“ She bit her lip when his fingers ran along the valley of her breasts, stopping when he reached her bra. “It’s been a while since we last—” a moan escaped her lips when he slipped his thumb behind the fabric, calloused skin meeting her sensitive nub. “Haechannie…”

Donghyuck gulped, his ears turning scarlet. Not being able to see the whole thing yet hearing the sounds she made really drove him to the brink of his sanity. “God, I wish I could see you,” he nearly whimpered. “I want to see your face.”

“Do you— ” She shuddered, as he brought his lips to trace every line he made with his fingertips before. “Do you still see me in your dreams?”

He nodded once, cupping her breast and sighing in content when it fit his palm perfectly.

She flinched, pressing her hips down to meet him more, urging him to move even closer. “Present ones?”

“N-not these days,” he moaned against her neck at the needed friction. “I see your past memories more often.”

She had to stop him and push him away for a moment because she couldn’t concentrate with his lips shyly sucking bruises on her sensitive parts. “Then let’s make as many memories as we can,” she said, slightly out of breath. “Maybe you can’t see me now, but you’ll see me in your dreams. Maybe then you’ll realize just how happy I am these days, because of you.”

He parted his lips in realization. He was too consumed by his depressing thoughts that he never tried to look through a new perspective. Even when he had lost his vision, she still managed to paint a spectrum of colors in his mind, in one way or another. As long as he’s with her, his life would never be monochromatic.

So this time, he could truly smile.

“Then…” He brought his hand down, whispering against her ear, “I can see you when we’re doing this too?” He suddenly slipped behind the fabric of her underwear, sliding his finger along her folds and she almost leaped out to her feet, yelping in surprise.

“Haechannie!” Her face was flushed, even going down to her neck and for the first time in what felt like forever, Donghyuck laughed, so airy and so him, making her eyes widen when she realized just how much she’d missed seeing him like this. “Ah, you’re really just—“ but she never finished, already moving her hips against him again, lips meeting in a heated kiss as it became a necessity for both of them to fulfill.

“Marry me,” he said, breathless and desperate as he kissed her shoulder, almost sinking his nails on the sides of her hips from how tight he was holding her. “Please marry me. I want—I need you to be my wife.”

Her eyes were unfocused, just like his were. Hooking her fingers around his silver necklace, she tugged him closer before she mouthed against the mole on his neck, making him moan her name.

“That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time.” She giggled, grabbing him by the chin in preparation for another kiss. “Idiot.”

***

346 notes · View notes

astranva · 4 years ago

Note

harry’s child being jealous about the new baby getting all the attention and he has to reassure her that he loves them both the same 😔💔

Title: Pinky Promise

Word Count: 2.7k

Category: Slight angst, Fluff dad!Harry

Warnings: A couple of F words.

I loved writing that omg my heart😪❤

You remember 4 years ago, in September of 2016 when you told Harry you were pregnant. Well, technically, you shouted it out.

Both of you being fans of Adele, you had decided to attend her show in Madison Square Garden.

Harry was already working on his debut album and knew he needed a break, especially when he was a nervous wreck.

You remember it all starting with your lack of appetite then suddenly feeling like eating everything and anything edible. You blamed it on hormones, until morning sickness happened. If there was one thing you absolutely loathed, it was nausea. You remember waking up to churn and throw up, your throat only hurting and your muscles aching due to the fact that your body had already digested the food you had eaten the night before and you hadn’t had anything to eat yet that morning, but your body still felt the need to make you run to stick your head inside the toilet bowl.

The first 3 days it happened, you were alone, with Harry being in the studio after leaving you notes that told you about his whereabouts and that he loved you and couldn’t wait to see you.

Not wanting to trouble his inspiration and progress, you only told him that you had an upset stomach every time he questioned why you looked sick.

You remember one day, after Harry was out with Jeff, that you called your best friend and had them bring you a pregnancy test, choosing to avoid any tabloid-talk.

Your heart was thumping, palms sweaty, nausea already kicking in as you waited after following the instructions.

And then it happened; a cry of surprise, eyes growing tearful as one hand was clasped on your mouth while the other held the test tightly – pregnant.

You knew that Harry loved a lot of people, a lot of things, a lot of abstract ideas, like love. You knew he loved kids, and he had often talked to you about them, telling you that he saw you and him starting a family.

It was why after you knew and had checked up at the obstetrician’s and knew that you were 3 weeks pregnant, you were giddy and excited to let Harry know but had decided to do it in a different setting.

Four days after your OB visit, you and Harry were in Madison Square Garden, singing along with Adele.

You were standing in front of Harry, back against his front, his arms wrapped around your waist, your hand holding on to his arms, his chin on your shoulder as you both swayed with Sweetest Devotion.

It was when you moved just a little to the side, still in his arms, to look at him, Harry looked down at you, singing to you.

“I'm heading straight for you. You will only be eternally, the one that I belong to.”

He gently nudged your forehead with his, pecking your lips. He pulled back slowly, smiling down at you.

And then you said it.

“I’m pregnant.”

His eyebrows shot up, leaning closer, “Can’t hear you!”

You grinned, turning in his arms to cup his cheeks softly, “I’m pregnant! 3 weeks pregnant!”

His world had stopped, eyes going wide as his mouth formed an O, “Y/N, are you joking?!” He had asked with a laugh of surprise, his lips stretching into a grin as he asked, “Baby, are you for real?”

You nodded as you laughed in glee, moving one hand from his cheek and to your stomach, “You’re going to be a daddy!”

And that was what it took for Harry to break down and cry, tipping his head back as he bit on his lip, nose red and veins showing on his forehead as he cried before wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, crying into your shoulder.

Tears were flowing from your eyes as you held him, feeling him pull back to rest his forehead on yours, his hands moving to either sides of your neck, “I love you. I love you so fucking much.” He pulled you back in a hug, one hand moving to the back of your head while the other was on your back, bringing you closer to him.

The 9 months of pregnancy were smooth, as well as emotional. Especially since it was in the 2nd month that Harry went down on one knee, somewhen in the morning when you were both preparing breakfast. You turned around to grab the toast, only to see him on one knee, with a blue velvet box in his hand opened to show you the thin, golden ring with a small diamond in the middle that you knew Harry picked carefully with the thought of how you moved minimalist jewelry in his mind.

“I had a speech and – I don’t remember anything from it other than the fact that I have so many songs about you, and some more, and that I am head over heels in love with you. And that you’re carrying a soul inside you that is made from you and I. I just – fuck, Y/N, I can’t imagine a life you’re not in it and just – marry me?”

His eyes were already glossy, lips pink and dimple there for your eyes to see as he pursed his lips before taking a deep breath.

You had let out a cry, hands on where your heart rested, nodding as you cried, “Yes! Yes, oh my- God, yes, please!” And he didn’t get the chance to stand before you threw yourself at him on the floor, hugging him tightly against you.

You also remember the celebration being very low-key, with only close friends and family there at your house. Gemma, as your maid of honor, had taken charge of the decorations, making the backyard of yours and Harry’s shared house well-lit with all the globe bulbs adorning the trees and walls. The moment Harry saw you in your simple white wedding dress, was one that would forever be engraved in everybody who was present’s mind. He had squatted down, hands covering his face in disbelief before they covered his open mouth as he took you in; laughing bashfully as you, too, took him in.

He was in a white suit, pink embroidered flowers on the side of his pants that resembled the headpiece you wore.

Polaroids were taken, all pictures were taken on film, making everything about the night more magical and sentimental, especially with the 6-month bump you walked and danced around with.

The 9 months of your pregnancy were painful, but not too much for you to feel anything but love for how supportive and helpful Harry was, and admiration for your daughter – Eileen Mae Styles.

Since the moment Eileen came into the world, you knew that she had Harry wrapped around her tiny little finger.

Your daughter was attached to both of you, but you were proud of the character and personality she had at such a young age.

When Eileen turned 3, you and Harry took pride in how you could have a conversation with your daughter, even when it was about how pretty Harry’s butterfly tattoo would look if it was colored. Yes, she ended up coloring it, and Harry loved every moment of having his daughter lying on top of him, coloring his tattoo as he lounged on the sofa while she talked to him about how she likes strawberry chapstick.

It was one day when you felt the familiar feelings of nausea and change of appetite, the reminder of the late period only making one question come into your mind.

That time, you mentioned it to your husband as you ate lunch, who had chocked on his food.

Long story short, you were pregnant – again.

“Mummy,” Eileen called you as you, your husband and your daughter sat in your backyard, letting Isla [Eye-la] get her vitamin D.

Harry was reading a book beside you as you both sat on your swing, Eileen playing and running around with her toys, while you wrote in your journal.

“Yeah, bub?”

She ran towards you, putting both hands on your knees as she grinned up at you before looking down at your 8-month pregnant bump, “What’s in here?”

Harry chuckled, putting down his book to watch the conversation more carefully.

“Your baby brother is in here.” You smiled at her.

“But how? Can I sit there, too?”

You and Harry giggled at her question. “You once sat there, Isla. But then you came into the world, 3 years ago.”

Eileen frowned, looking up at you. “I want to go back again.”

You looked at Harry, silently asking him to help you.

He leaned forward, wrapping his hands under his daughter’s armpits before carrying her to make her sit on his lap. “But then your brother won’t have enough space.”

“I don’t care.” She whined, the frown still on her face.

“Your brother needs all the space so he can grow to meet you, and play with you, don’t you want that?” He asked her softly.

“He-he will take my toys.”

“You can share all the toys with him, bub. He’ll share his toys with you, too.” You cooed, almost scared that your daughter wouldn’t like her brother. Something neither you nor Harry had prepared for.

“But-but you and daddy will get more toys for him. I don’t want him.” She said with a whine, crossing her arms against her chest as she looked down, lips starting to quiver.

You and Harry shared a look, before moving back to your 3-year-old.

“Eileen,” Harry called her name gently, watching as she didn’t look up at him, “Honey, look at me, please.” Slowly, Eileen looked up at Harry, letting the both of you see her tearful eyes. “You know mummy and daddy love you and we always will, right?”

“We do love you so much, bub, and nothing will change that,” You assured her, putting one hand on her knee, “Your brother is also very excited to meet you. He loves you, too.”

“Weren’t you excited the other day to show him your room?” Harry asked, rubbing her back gently.

“Yeah.” She mumbled.

“You have a lot to show him and teach him. You can be his first best friend, isn’t that nice?”

As if she was absorbing what you said, Eileen nodded slowly.

“We love you, Isla. Forever.” Harry said, leaning to press a kiss against her temple.

Turning to look at her dad, Eileen uncrossed her arms to raise up her two pinkies, one reaching out to you, the other for Harry, “Promise?”

It felt as though your heart melted right there and then as you latched your pinky with hers, watching Harry do the same.

“Promise.”

But nobody told you about the hell you’d go through when your daughter was jealous of her new bother, Elio.

The moment Eileen entered the hospital room, holding hands with Gemma, and looking at you as you lied on the hospital bed with Elio right at your side, eyes open as he moved his limbs around, making baby noises, you knew that she wasn’t very welcoming.

Harry was sat on the other side of his son, hand playing with your hair as to comfort you after the pain you went through, and as a simple nonverbal way to thank you. His lips were fixed on the smile his face wore, heart soaring with happiness at the new family addition and the fact that both, his wife and son were healthy.

Eileen looked at her parents, too short to see her brother who was in the middle but hearing him. She was overwhelmed, knowing that she was going to meet her brother.

“Hey, honey!” Harry grinned at her, leaning down a little and opening his arms, hugging her tightly as she ran into them before he pressed a kiss against her cheek, carrying her to place her on his hip, watching as her eyes instantly moved to the newborn baby.

“Meet Elio, bub.” You said tiredly but with a smile on your face, watching your daughter and hoping she would take the new change lightly.

Well, you hoped.

But Eileen had broken into fits of crying, straight out wailing as she threw herself on Harry, leaning her head on his shoulder.

The close family and friends in the room all pouted and cooed, watching the scene.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asked urgently, rubbing his daughter’s back.

“I don’t love him.” Eileen dragged as she cried, wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck.

Your heart broke, the small smile falling as you looked at Harry in worry.

As if his sister’s cries triggered him, your smallest, Elio, began crying. You sat up, taking him gently in your arms and placing him against your chest, softly hushing him and supporting the back of his head as you looked at Harry, almost pleading him to do anything.

Understanding, Harry stood with Eileen latched onto him, holding her as he walked out of the room and walking down the hall, softly and gently bouncing his daughter to calm her.

“Come on, Isla, please calm down.” He cooed, adding a sigh at the situation he and his wife were in. “Why don’t you love Elio?”

Eileen sniffled, pulling back but keeping her head down, one hand moving to poke at Harry’s pearl necklace – which you and Eileen made him – as she replied, “Nobody will love me anymore.”

Harry sat down on a chair, still holding his daughter just the same. “What makes you say that?”

“Because-because-because he is little, and he needs more attention and I will have no more.”

Harry took a deep breath, letting her words sink it. While it was true that his youngest needed necessary and a lot of attention, he didn’t know how to explain to his oldest that that wasn’t how it goes.

“When you were just a little baby,” He began, looking down at her, “Mummy and Daddy were all over the place. You cried when we were asleep, threw up on us a lot,” Harry chuckled to himself, remembering these moments and taking notice of how it all felt like it was only the day before, “You wanted Mummy and Daddy with you all the time. And we never left you,” He concluded, “So what makes you think that will leave you now, Honey?”

Eileen didn’t reply.

“Your brother still can’t talk. He can’t say when he’s hurt like you do, he doesn’t even know how your favorite blueberry pancakes taste like. And we need to make sure that he does all that, exactly like you. But here’s the thing,” As though he was telling her a secret, Harry leaned to whisper in her ear, “Mummy and Daddy can’t do alone. We can’t do it without you.”

Eileen slowly looked up at Harry, face losing its frown.

“We promised, Isla. We promised to love you forever. Have we ever broken a promise?” He asked, watching her shake her head, “And we won’t. So what do you say? Can you, please, give your brother the chance he needs? He’s actually quite funny.” Harry smiled at her.

“Funnier than you?” She asked.

Harry laughed, “Way funnier! You just have to keep a close eye.”

Eileen giggled quietly.

“Mummy is really excited for you to meet Elio, you know? Was telling me all about the numbers you can teach him, all the photos we’re going to take of the both of you. What he’ll get you for Christmas.”

“Can he get me a book about stars? With pictures?” She asked excitedly.

Harry grinned, peppering her face with kisses and hearing her giggle, fully knowing that it was one of his most favorite sounds, “You tell him.”

Once he stopped, Eileen let out a sigh, her shoulder slumping. “Fine, Daddy. I will try.”

“Thank you.” He smiled gratefully, “How about we go back?”

The moment a knock sounded on the door before you saw your husband with your daughter in his arms, you didn’t know what to expect.

Looking shy and bashful, Eileen clung onto Harry as he returned to his spot after sharing a look with Anne, as if telling her that he would tell her later.

Elio was back in his spot as well, going back to his noises.

Eileen looked down at him once again, finally taking notice of how tiny his hands were and feeling curious. Reluctantly, she leaned down a little, intending to poke his hand softly.

But the moment she touched his hand, was the moment Elio wrapped his hand around her finger, making her grin. “He’s holding my finger!” She squealed as she giggled, “You’re right, Daddy. He is funny.”

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