#which means they can further separate themselves from the pack

[foolishaetherguardian]

Having gone to what might as well be the American Version of Ouran Highschool, (I've fully had to accept this after trying to explain our school events) there was no such thing as a sports kid or a smart kid. Everyone played sports. Everyone won one state championship during their time there (Mine was track and field). And everyone was smart. And I get that might be misunderstood but I mean no one got below a four on the LATIN AP exams. A four out of five. Just passing with a 3 got you six college credits. Anything above that? Just bragging rights. We had three people get 5's. What brand of smart and athletic was what got made your clique typically. Except for what eventually became the top clique. This clique? Made up of a world class equestrian, as in won world championships back to back in show jumping, a team USA gymnast, a model for Calvin Klein, a Broadway musician, several future lawyers and med students and a disproportionate number of competitive engineers.

PART 2 of this poll: Click this

[vidavalor]

The Suggestion Box

There's really only one alternate plan that could have been what Aziraphale was trying to suggest here-- and it was a much better plan. One that could have maybe changed the course of everything in S2 had Crowley been willing to listen the note that Aziraphale wanted to put in the suggestion box here. Ah, irony...

Aziraphale's suggestion was to have Gabriel take the humans out of the shop.

Gabriel could have done the same thing as Crowley did in taking them out and making sure they got safely through the demons. He then could have come back and helped Crowley and Aziraphale with the shop against the demons, as needed.

Why is this a better plan to Aziraphale?

Because it means that Crowley isn't going out into a pack of demons in the dark. Shax is leading an attack on the shop. Aziraphale doesn't trust that Crowley isn't going to end up hurt or dead if he goes out there. They both have bucketloads of trauma related to times where Crowley was taken by Hell and separated from Aziraphale in the past.

Furthering the irony?

This whole party was Aziraphale trying to make them not a secret anymore, which would include them stopping try to hide the fact that Crowley basically lives in the shop. The party was supposed to make it so that there was never another night in which they were apart again by the morning. The party was supposed to be the start of Crowley not leaving in the dark and what happens during the party?He leaves in the dark and he doesn't come back when he said he'd come back, leaving Aziraphale panicking that something has happened to Crowley. Exactly what Aziraphale was trying to avoid them going through again.

He is trying to tell Crowley that maybe Crowley doesn't have to do this when there's a better option. They can get the humans safely home and also be safe themselves because they're not on their own anymore.

They have Gabriel.

He can-- and will-- help protect them both, the way they are helping to do that for him. The demons can't identify Gabriel so he is safer out there among them than Crowley would be and he's willing to help.

The irony is that Crowley's fall really began in earnest out of feeling like his point of view was being overlooked. S2 begins with Crowley yearning to be heard, as expressed by his idea that God should have a suggestion box and be willing to entertain the viewpoints of the angels. It's then Crowley, though, who doesn't hear out Aziraphale's suggestion for a plan that might have made things turn out completely differently.

How differently? Because Crowley doesn't come back all night, he and Aziraphale never have any time alone to speak freely from the moment he leaves the bookshop with the humans through the end of S2. They are unable to talk openly and make a plan together and wind up trying to tell one another what they think is happening and a plan for it while being watched.

As we know, it's a disaster and a half-- just a five alarm dumpster fire of miscommunications-- that all may well have led to Aziraphale's fall and all of which could have been avoided had Crowley been willing to open up the suggestion box.

[spaceacerat]

are these not normal? they were in your tags from this post

Hello! I wasn't sure if you mean blisters, or random moments of pain, so I'll assume both! I tried to separate the sections.

TW: medical neglect, medical abuse from doctors (I think it counts as that anyways, especially under the cut), mentions of skin-based injuries

(I apologize, this ended up turning into a scrambled medical rant because I have a lot of big feelings about how kids/teens/young adults can be completely ignored for even very noticeable signs of disability or issues and grow up suffering for it. I'm also just very tired and feeling weird and am in a ranty mood wanting my pain and suffering to be heard 😭)

BLISTERS:

On the case of blisters, I have little frame of reference for how often normal people blister, but my partners never seem to. Whenever I look into it, normal people apparently blister from shoes being too tight, or hiking or something very strenuous.

If your skin blisters with heat or certain fabrics, from wearing shoes even if they fit, clothing, sleeping, sitting, standing, or walking, or comes off easily from a mild bump into something, it is Not Normal.

My old PCP, when I finally asked him about it, was stunned, and did a biopsy when I had blisters I didn't have to pop. He thinks it's Epidermolysis bullosa simplex, but I can't get an official diagnosis without a genetic test that insurance doesn't cover apparently, and the dermatologist I went to was useless.

I would give advice on how to deal with it if anyone is ever interested, but what works for me probably won't work for everyone.

I don't know how it's supposed to be dealt with according to medical science, and I'm apparently (according to a partners nurse mother) very lucky I haven't gotten an infection. After all, I do it the broke person "here's my value pack of sewing pins and some paper towels" way, not the "I have access to medical resources and specialized sterile needles/bandages" way.

PAIN:

In regards to feeling pain most of the time, I've had one of my partners ask what level of pain I'm usually at, and I shrugged and went "Ehh, most of the time a 1-2, sometimes a pang of 3, a 4-5 if something specific hurts, at worst a 6-9 if somethings wrong like a migraine or whatever." He then wisely told me "You know what level normal people are at most of the time? A zero. Most people aren't in pain unless something is wrong."

I suppose that put things into perspective regarding my health, after years of just dealing with random bouts of sudden health issues I had to deal with usually completely on my own growing up.

(side note, watching something like lord of the rings as a kid, which involved a lot of scenes of them all just walking or running, would make me cringe because "holy shit they must be in so much pain :( they're so brave, and so strong for still walking and running for hours when they surely have blistered by now! I hope they have plenty of sewing needles to pop them when they stop to rest!" because my dumbass couldnt even walk around an amusement park for a day without limping badly and slowly while being told to hurry up by an older sibling, and these guys were walking and running for months on uneven terrain. Still jealous about that >:( )

(more ranting under the cut but about other things I've come to realize weren't normal [AKA specifics about the skin disorder/medical issues] or just makes me mad because suddenly I just feel the need to about my personal medical crap. Maybe someone will see it and see themselves in it. Sorry about that 😅)

in reference of the tag, I meant how I blister. I came out of the womb missing skin, and have always blistered around my body very easily. The docs claimed it was eczema when I was a baby, and they didn't bother looking into it further, but from the few people I have met who have that, they don't show any of my symptoms. Meanwhile I grew up thinking it was completely normal, and that everyone was just walking around in pain and ignoring it better than me.

I can't wear tennis shoes/heels/sandals/flipflops/crocs because the backs always rub my ankles raw and they're too soft so every step they rub around my toes, (or flip-flops would just tear the skin between my toes) but I had to grow up wearing tennis shoes all the time. That meant every night after school I'd come home and have to pop the blisters to drain them before I could sleep. Now I wear flat combat boots with two pairs of socks and it's so much better, but still not perfect, since I can't really walk outside in the summer.

I've blistered from walking, sitting, lying down, being outside in the heat, sweating, sleeping with my thighs touching, all sorts of things. Skin can also come off entirely if I get scratched or bumped into something. One time my leg got stuck at a bent angle because I fell asleep without popping the blister behind my knee, and it dried to the point where I couldn't pull it apart without pain.

Something else about that is that I'm allergic to adhesives and latex. The few times I've 'had' to wear bandaids were hellish, as it would remove the entire top layer of skin with it since it blistered under it. When I had to do an allergy test with the adhesive (dermatologist decided it had to be an allergy, because he's a dumbass), I made them cut them and put them on my arms instead of my back, where they promptly blistered after a few hours and I had to peel them off myself with a leather belt between my teeth to keep from chipping a tooth (because when I say it was incredibly painful, thats a massive understatement).

No one around me cared that I was suddenly having to lean against walls and furniture to get around because my legs wanted to give out from under me due to sudden muscle weakness and a pounding heart/chest pains/dizziness, or the few migraines I got in middle school that made me throw up a few times which weirdly made the migraine go away after enough times doing that. Or my limping from blisters, or the medication side effects that showed up when I started taking antipsychotics.

On note of medication, none of the psychs I went to told me about medication side effects. I was 13 when I started Seroquel (my guess is because they wanted to sedate me because of a whole fiasco, my partners nurse mother was shocked when she found out I was on it at such a young age for what were incredibly mild bipolar 2 symptoms). It caused me to pass out a few times, and I just had to keep taking it despite it actually making my depression/hypomania incredibly bad through the rest of middle and high school, because I wasn't aware I should tell my doctor it was making me worse. Never got bloodwork for it either.

After a while I switched meds, but was still having the worst depressive symptoms and my hypomania got even worse. One of the ones a doc had me try basically short circuited my brain. I had a five second memory if that, was shuffling around leaning against everything trying to stay upright, could barely think or talk outside of slurred words... My family saw this, and just went "You good?" and when I half-muttered a 'yeah' because I couldn't think straight enough to realize I should say no, they just shrugged and asked if I could do the dishes. I shook my head and went back to bed, passing out for 10 hours. Refused to ever take that medication again once I woke up, despite my psych trying to tell me I had to give it at least two weeks to start working properly. Fuck that.

When I show signs that something is wrong and I mention it to someone, and everyone brushes it off, it becomes normalized in the brain. But it's not. Now that I have partners who grew up going to the doctor for their problems, they're horrified, especially when they see me actively struggling with it. I had an episode (sudden muscle weakness/chest pains/pounding heart/dizzy) last month in front of them, and they were seriously debating taking me to a hospital but I kept refusing and saying it would pass because it always did and I wasn't afraid. It did eventually pass after about 7 hours, but not before scaring the shit out of them.

And these were the same signs I showed at work, twice, neither time I went home. I worked as a janitor during one of them, my manager saw but didn't think to do anything. I still managed to clean, but I did lie down and pass out in one of the back offices for a few minutes and just got up and went right back to work because I didn't want to get in trouble.

Also, a shout out to the laundromat I was forced to continue working at when I had covid!! I thought I was dying but they wouldn't let me take work off until I had a positive test, so I was forced to work the place completely alone for 8 hours during the first three days of major symptoms because I was desperate to keep the job and didn't know I could just refuse or call someone!! I mean, have you ever had to wash/dry/fold 200+ pounds of laundry completely alone in one night while every part of you thinks you're dying, and then on top of that having to deal with customers/machine issues, lift heavy trash bags, and clean dusty airvents and the rest of the place aka bathrooms and floors?? It's incredibly awful!! I did my damndest to keep my hands washed to the point where the skin came off a bit on one of my fingers and wearing a mask constantly while trying to keep my distance. Worst three days ever.

[lorei-writes]

[Includes spoilers for Leon's and Chevalier's respective routes.]

When seeing them stand side by side, it is rather natural to assume that Leon is the day, and Chevalier -- the night. Black next to white, smiles versus scowls, human and beast... But that does not seem quite right, does it?

They are different the same way they are similar, together -- the Moon; separately alternating between its sides.

Contents:

Exhibit #1: The genesis.

Exhibit #2: Freedom.

Exhibit #3: Disguise.

Exhibit #4: Loneliness.

Exhibit #1: The genesis.

Leon, the former slave boy. The purpose he's been given: to replace the actual Leon.

Chevalier, initially considered as the King's firstborn. The purpose: to protect the kingdom.

It looks hardly the same, but then... There is a trail that connects them, no?

Leon's identity is overlooked due to the benefits he may bring. He isn't appreciated for who he is -- what he is wanted for is who he is supposed to be. The rest? Irrelevant. He's means to an end.

And in Chevalier's case? He's the prodigy first, and the child second (if not last). The fear that follows him is bearable -- look at all the ways in which his talents could be utilised! Why would anybody bother to try and look below any of that?

Exhibit #2: Freedom.

Leon is familiar with literal shackles. He knows despair so deep it leaves a person numb, one that gives them no choice but to merely wonder "why" and stare at the sky. He dreams of freedom, just to enter a less tangible prison: he is bound to play out a role, to pretend... This time, however, there is a reward to be had at the end.

Why should he not sacrifice himself? For the greater good, so that others can smile... He? Why should anybody worry about that? He is fine.

Chevalier's binding is a less obvious one, possibly because it has always been there. He is born into a duty, and it imprints on him well. Royalty has the responsibility to protect the kingdom, even if once closely inspected, there is nothing there they're particularly attached to and wish to protect. But he will. He has to, therefore, he wants to.

Why should his own personal happiness be of any concern? He doesn't need emotion. He can rip it out. This sacrifice? It's merely his obligation to pay.

Exhibit #3: Disguise.

Leon hides. He pretends to be a person that is long dead. This secret weighs on him, but it cannot be shared.

Chevalier, on the other hand? In his mind, he only looks human. He is a beast, his skin nothing more than a disguise to hide him among men.

And out of that, there follows...

Exhibit #4: Loneliness.

Leon may be surrounded by people. He may be smiling, he may be on good terms with his supporters. He may sneak out of the palace and make friends while in the town. But most of those relationships are shallow, and even the ones that mean more to him do not run as deep as they'd have to to actually reach him. He protects others, shelters their burdens -- and so, he pushes them away from his heart. He is never alone, but he is always lonely, surrounded by laughter and smiles.

Chevalier's more direct: he pushes people away. He's fearsome, he's brutal, but he is not as cruel as to enforce his presence on others. May their despair be brief. He will isolate himself -- his self-awareness tells him it's only natural for things to be this way.

--

Lions are pack animals, while tigers' existence is fairly solitary. Leon wishes for his people to thrive -- Chevalier, for his territory to be safe from the outside threats.

The conclusions they reach, the way they carry themselves? Sometimes they couldn't be further apart from each other... But then perhaps the reason why they cannot see eye to eye is that, while different, they are also uncomfortably similar in certain aspects.

-> Final thought: They, of course, have no way of knowing this all about each other... But perhaps, if they talked, they could understand some things about the other quite well.

[animehouse-moe]

Kagura Bachi Chapter 1: Mission

At this point, I'm sure everybody's seen all the memes and jokes about Kagura Bachi. #1 New-Gen Shonen manga that's better than God himself, or whatever. A funny joke at times, but a little overdone.

Kagura Bachi would never live up to that hype, but it's also not a series that's going down the gutter right this second. It struggles, as a first time mangaka will, but at the very least has the potential to turn things around. So, let's take a look at this first chapter then and see what it can do.

The art. All the teaser images you've seen around make it look surprisingly good, and in some places it is. But the default? It's not really that good. It's not awful, but it's far from something you'll routinely comment on.

Simple designs, simple faces, and not a lot that changes about them. Honestly, I'd put it on the same level as the Fantasy Bishoujo manga that I talked about earlier, but even then I think the average quality of the art in Kagura Bachi can struggle to keep pace. Anyways, it certainly doesn't hold a candle to other recent SJ additions. Not awful to be at the bottom of the pack, but the art itself certainly isn't an immediate selling point for readers.

Diving further into the art and style, same-face is a real struggle with the shape and designs of characters. Eyebrows and pupil/iris shapes are some of the main ways the mangaka forces distinction between their characters. Truthfully, it's not something that's a deal breaker by any means, but just points to the struggles of an early on artist (though it's not like I can really say anything when I can't draw to save my life).

A more important issue however is the action. It's got solid layouts and ideas, but the choreography can feel.. plain. Not a bad thing, but you need art that can fill those gaps, that can provide pace and movement within. Kagura Bachi does not have the benefit of art that can help with that. And so, because of that, the action ends up stuff, and even lackluster.

Well, I suppose that's enough about the art, let's talk story.

... it's essentially on the same page as the art. Some good, some bad, lotta mediocre. Bog standard revenge plot meets unique but highly underutilized power system.

Chihiro is the son of a famous blacksmith, at some point his father dies and Chihiro is out for revenge against an organization of sorcerers that, we as readers assume, are the ones that killed his father. But Chihiro's just a boy, how could he go up against sorcerers? Well, he's got some special katanas from his departed father.

Very typical, no? Which I think is a shame, because the chapter deeply limits itself. It starts with the story stating that "only" Chihiro has magically imbued Katanas, but anyone with half a brain knows that as the series goes on, villains will wield similar katanas as well. To clarify, we know that Chihiro's father has made more than just the katanas that Chihiro has. The core of the gripe is that only Chihiro's father was able to create them, and that there's no information about how many there are or who might wield them (spoiler, it's gonna be all the bad guys).

The second, and more problematic issue is how the power system is approached. It separates sorcery from the katanas themselves, which is a painful mistake. The magic should be tied to the swords, it would make for a way better power system to explore. Swords vs magic has been done a thousand times over, so I'm just not thrilled to see its opportunity squandered.

That's not where it ends though. Despite being a magic sword, and despite readers knowing, thanks to earlier exposition, that it has the ability to "ward off evil", the manifestation of that ability is... to turn the sword black and slash people really hard.

I really can't get more disappointed than this. You lead with this super cool visual of the goldfish that the katana is imbued with, and you follow with a single slash. Not even a fancy one. Just a big, fat, shonen manga slash.

So, at the end of it all. There'll be an audience for this type of story, there always is. Violent revenge plot centered around black haired swordsman fighting non-sword wielding enemies. About as generic as you could make it, really. I just hope that the mangaka sees the potential that they wield and changes it up. Different schools centered around various imbued properties. Allowing Chihiro the use of sorcery to attempt to create his own blades. Distancing itself from the revenge plot. The art will undoubtedly grow and improve if the series is allowed to live, but in these early chapters.... well it's now or never for shifting the focus of the story. It has the ability to go the distance, but by the hand of the mangaka, the story is going down a path that will destroy its potential.

[rowanwolf]

In my last post, I talked about my copinglink. Firekeeper is a character from Jane Lindskold's Firekeeper Saga novels. In the novel there are different types of animals: there's Cousin kind, which are the animals we're used to, and then there are Royal beasts. Royal beasts are larger than their Cousin kind and have an intelligence and sapience on par with humans. Firekeeper was orphaned as a young child and was raised by a pack of Royal wolves. She is a wolf in all but body. That was why I originally took her on. She too deals with species dysphoria and a disconnect from human identity.

It's interesting, I talk differently about her - when I do talk about her at all - than I do my theriotypes and kintypes. And she does feel quite different. I have a lot of gryphon shifts at work for some reason. And that actually is helpful and can help me deal with the craziness. Firekeeper does much the same thing when she's present at work. However, while my gryphon is just me, settled into my body, but with a slightly different mindset and phantom talons that make typing all sorts of fun, Firekeeper feels like... a whole other person, honestly. It's almost less like I am her and more like she's sitting next to me in my head, borrowing my eyes and ears. It's genuinely like I can picture both of us sitting side by side and looking out through my eyes. It feels like there's someone sitting next to me, but in a mental sense rather than a physical sense. I'm really not doing a good job of explaining this, but I don't quite know how to phrase it. I mean, I could do a short little prose piece and describe it well. Might do that at the end of this.

Regardless, she feels present in a very different way than my 'kintypes and theriotypes. This was going to be longer, but then suddenly it's 11pm somehow and I need to go figure out food.

And the aforementioned non-fiction prose drabble, featuring something that happened at work the other day. (I guess it's non-fiction prose? Journalistic account? Whatever.) The space and imagery are what's actually going on in my head when this happens, although the dialogue is very slightly altered because privacy:

"What this?" I heard a voice behind me ask. Apparently she wasn't having a good human-speak day.

"Not sure. Can't quite... It's like I'm hearing it, but nothing is sticking. It just rolls right off like rain," I replied. I glanced back to see a young woman with dark, short-cropped hair emerging from the gloom. Her red shirt and leather breeches were bright splashes of color against the darkness.

The place in which we stood was very strange. There was nothing. It wasn't quite a place so much as it was a concept of space-time in that regard. Here, where I stood, there were two windows looking out into the brightly lit beyond. I knew these to be my eyes, but I felt somewhat separated from them. On our side of the windows, there was a bit of floor, still black, but lit by the light shining in. As the light faded the further it got from the window, the world dissolved into the unreality of endless blackness. Here, there was no limitation of space, if indeed that's what it was, and no laws of physics to govern passage through that space/not-space. There was no time, either. All things happened in an instant and then faded into the primordial gloom.

"I help," Firekeeper said as she stepped up beside me. Apparently frustrated by her broken human speech, she resorted instead to the language of beasts. She cocked her head and told me, "It is to do with your work."

"That much I know."

"I do not understand why two-legs insist upon doing this to themselves. You do not enjoy this. So why are you here? What drives you to come here day after day to complete tasks for which you feel no passion and occasionally more than a little loathing?" she asked, a genuine curiosity in her tone.

I sighed at having to explain this to her again. I knew she understood it, but occasionally she was intentionally obtuse about human things. "Money. I have to be able to able to pay rent and buy food and clothes and anything else I need."

She scoffed. "Two-legs are so concerned about money. When I am hungry, I hunt. When I need shelter, I make a den. When I need clothes, I use the skins of my kills. Two-legs might be happier if they allowed themselves the freedom that comes with such a life."

"Yes, well, not everyone has your background knowledge. Believe me, I would love to be able to do that. I'm a wolf, it feels only natural. But trying to live as a human in today's world..." I trailed off with a shrug.

Beside me, I heard her sigh in exasperation. Switching once more to human-speak, she told me in a tone that made plain how tedious she felt all of this to be, "Fine. I watch. I remember better. You don't remember well."

I nodded easily. "Yeah, we both know my memory sucks. But just... let me do the talking...."

[lizseyi]

Everything You Need To Know About Intermodal Freight Solutions And How Your Business Could Benefit.

What is meant by the term ‘intermodal freight’? 

The quick and straightforward way of defining the term “intermodal freight”, is that it refers to the transportation of goods from one location to another, using more than one mode – or method – of transport. 

The “intermodal” part of the term comes from the intermodal containers, or giant reusable boxes, that are used to pack and transport cargo as part of the typical intermodal freight solutions. 

So, to give a very simple example, if certain goods are moved in a container or trailer via railway for most of their journey, followed by being transported by road for the last few miles of the trip, this journey could be described as an intermodal one. 

Further examples of intermodal freight solutions include goods being transported by rail before switching to sea transportation for much of the rest of the trip, as well as goods that arrive by aircraft in a destination country being transferred to truck transportation for the remainder of the shipment’s journey to the recipient. 

Don’t get intermodal freight confused with multimodal transportation! 

You might have seen these two terms being used almost as if they were interchangeable, and it is true that they both refer to multiple modes of transport being used for freight forwarding. 

The defining difference between the two, then, is a contractual one; multimodal transportation entails a single contract covering the entire journey. Such an arrangement means that one carrier takes sole responsibility for the shipment, including for ensuring door-to-door delivery, even if other carriers are involved in getting the goods to their intended destination. 

By contrast, with intermodal freight, separate contracts exist for each individual leg of the journey. Shippers having separate contracts with different carriers means there is ultimately more than one entity responsible for the given cargo’s successful delivery. 

Why might you turn to intermodal freight solutions? 

The intermodal transportation of goods has been associated with a variety of benefits down the years. The opportunity to reduce costs is certainly one of them; the ability to ��mix and match” different modes of shipping across one journey allows for the most cost-effective methods to be chosen for different legs of the trip. 

The right intermodal freight solutions can also help ensure the safety and security of the goods that are being transported. With the items themselves being enclosed in strong metal containers, the amount of direct handling of goods during transit is reduced to a minimum, thereby also driving down the risk of accidental damage or deliberate theft of the products. 

Exporters and importers also frequently turn to intermodal freight services as a way of maximising the reliability of their shipping processes, not to mention sustainability. You might not have been aware, for instance, that rail transportation offers greater fuel-efficiency than road, which allows for freight processes to be achieved that do not produce as much air pollution. 

Would you like to learn more about the intermodal freight solutions that could bring benefits such as these – and many others – to your shipments, depending on your particular requirements? If so, please do not hesitate to reach out to the professional and capable KTL UK team today. 

‍

[pyr0cue]

People when they don’t read notes or anything else on my blog discussing this and would have less of a reaction if they read any further statements beyond my initial vent post about why I don’t like the movie…like this was a vent post that blew up and I didnt want it to because it’s not serious critique 😭 my later posts are

I’m actually going to use this as an excuse to yap because I have soo many thoughts rattling around in this brain of mine and I didn’t have work today.

(I yapped so much !do not open read more unless you want to read like 10 long ass paragraphs!)

I know this is shocking, but I actually have considered the purpose and themes in this movie and still arrived at the conclusion that it’s not good or new.

Let’s talk about the themes. The most prominent theme is about family dynamics. to be more specific; how the decisions of parents will affect their children. You can disagree, that’s what I got from the plot with Lee and her mom. I actually like that plot! I like how she has a terse relationship with her mom, she calls her when she needs comfort but can’t forgive her for how she grew up. I like how it’s implied that her mom’s hoarding has affected her (I.e her clean, nearly empty room as opposed to the packed house.) I like that the hoarding conceals secrets. I liked that her mom ultimately betrayed her. I don’t like how that whole plot is like?? So separate from the murders. I don’t like that the fathers kill the families, I don’t like that they never choose that themselves by any means, not even coercion, and are ~driven by the devil in a doll~. If your main characters plot and conflict is connected to her mother, for the love of god, the other plots should have something to do with them too. You have to do a lot of conjecture to connect Lee’s relationship with her mom to her father, you have to assume he left rather than never having existed, you have to assume maybe he was violent or abusive, you have to make shit up.

So what symbols relate to that theme? Well, you could say the dolls do. That longleg’s attention to those dolls is motherhood, but that reading calls back to something else I mentioned (briefly) in that og post that apparently doesn’t exist despite many people walking away with that feeling. Ok, then, What other things are connected to Lee or or mom that have attention given to them. The car Longlegs drives? Uhhh. The house? Photographs??? Guns?? Again, for all of these, you have to do some crazy logic to have them symbolize anything to that first theme we discussed. The ONLY potential symbols I can think of is the flashing images of the snakes, but that’s less a symbol of motherhood and more of foreshadowing her mom’s betrayal. And the the prayers, which could represent false promises (I.e the false promise Lee’s mom made to keep her safe? But, I mean, it’s made extremely explicit in the film via a 5 minuet mologue by her mom that her choice to work with Longlegs did actually keep her safe and thus Carter’s daughter safe) Hmmm. So we got nothing. Furthermore, we have no other connection throughout the movie. It would have been easy to have the mother’s kill instead of the fathers, or to give Lee a complicated relationship with her father. But, noooo, Longlegs needs specifically a trustworthy woman to help, why? I guess it has nothing to do with anything to do with Longlegs being even a little bit a trans stereotype. Because I’m crazyyy and somehow doing fake activism by making a vent post about disliking a movie.

Ok, anyway, no symbols there. What about other themes? I’ll list a few that kind of maybe make sense: good vs evil, Satan’s influence, uhhh. Erm. I really got nothing. I guess we could say satan’s presence is a symbol for both his influence and for evil in general? I guess? But that’s lame and kind of basic, and not even a little bit new or unique, most movies about satan use him as a symbol for evil.

Ok, ran out of themes mostly because the movie is poorly constructed and has a lame ass plot with very little real substance. Let’s try to work backwards, I’ll name a few objects that stood out to me in the film and try to make themes out of them, because symbols HAVE TO BE CONNECTED TO A THEME TO BE A SYMBOL. Basic media literacy. Anyway. Let’s think: the dolls, their brains, empty houses/buildings/streets, the colors white and red, prayers/the Bible, Satan, photographs, nighttime, songs, and the cuckoo sound.

Ok we can dismiss a few of these of being theme relevant. Longleg’s “cuckoo” was stated by the actor to simply be something creepy (but it was inspired by his mom! Oh wait, nvm, Longlegs is 100% a cis male and meant to be portrayed and seen as cis). I think photographs are generally used for just atmosphere and fear, with them providing 1/3 of the jumpscares in the movie. They could represent memory, and I could SEE that as being a theme, but I don’t think enough time is spent on memory too much is spent on Lee’s psychic abilities for it to be super prevalent. Mostly because I want themes to say something about the human condition or even just Lee as a person, but in my opinion memory and lack of it is used as a plot device for the ~big twist.~ nighttime/darkness is just used as atmosphere and to create fear (remember in the babadook when they emphasized darkness through stark shots in order to symbolize grief and guilt…yeah Longlegs doesn’t do that). And while I think the emptiness everywhere could be used as a symbol for like…disconnectedness? I also think it’s more prevalently used as a device to create fear and unease, which it does succeed at.

Ok. So now I do think there is some interesting symbols. Well, the colors red and white aren’t exactly unique and are used as always to symbolize purity and how it is corrupted (in this case, usually corruption because of the devil, again not unique.). In the movie, the white makeup on Longlegs (btw, according to the director, a man with bad plastic surgery and white makeup is why Longlegs is scary.) is splattered in blood as he yells “hail Satan” wow so spooky and new! red used to represent the devils final takeover of longleg’s personhood and soul??!! This is so innovative and has never happened ever in any movie before. It’s also used to splatter Lee’s mom’s white nun outfit, and Lee’s white shirt. So it’s there, but not really unique or related to any interesting themes that are any further explored in the movie (again, I see a little bit of time dedicated to the idea of corruption, but Longlegs being ‘corrupted’ isn’t really shown because we only ever see him after that transformation, and the idea of fathers being corrupted by the devil isn’t connected to a larger theme and contradicts and distracts from other themes. Which isn’t to say you can’t have contradicting themes, you just need to actually explore them and not dip into them briefly in bits and pieces.)

Again, I think prayers and Satan are a pretty cut and dry “prayers can’t help you because Satan is evil” I think Satan is a bad motivation for the villian and takes away the agency he has, agency is what makes serial killers scary: that they can make a choice and choose to harm. Longlegs isn’t scary if he doesn’t make a choice, if everything bad he does is actually the work of the devil.

The best most interesting thing in the movie was those dolls. They had so much potential only for the reason behind them existing and how they work to be explained to me in PAINFUL detail: the devil possesses them. WOW scary possessed devil dolls, such a new concept! I think the dolls and their brains could have been so interesting as symbols, symbols of childhood or symbols of motherhood or symbols of fear or symbols of what violence leaves behind. But themes of childhood aren’t very present in this film, motherhood IS but ehhh the only doll really used for that is Lee’s doll (I guess that’s a symbol on its own, I’ll give you that on I didn’t mention before), they aren’t feared by families they’re REVERED, and there’s nothing really left behind, only when the child survives with is. Twice. And not really about the dolls, more so the children themselves. And no, the dolls symbolizing Lee and the other girl is lazy 👍

When I think of movies that are unique and fresh, that added something new to the genre of horror, movies like Longlegs don’t come close!! Ari Aster and his films Hereditary and Midsommar MUCH better pursue and represent the idea of cults and demons and how they hurt families, Hereditary uses the devil/demon as a metaphor for generational trauma, Longlegs doesn’t use it as a symbol for anything, let alone an extended metaphor. Saw (1! Only 1!) utilized new camera techniques and editing, tried out new ideas in color grading, and is the reason Longlegs got to have the gore that it did. Silence of the Lambs, for all the criticisms I have of it, is iconic and popularized crime horror as a genre. Rocky horror, Jordan peele’s movies, the haunting of hill house adaptation, the Blair witch project, there’s so many iconic, innovative movies out there that have unique themes and ideas portrayed through precise character work, innovative filmmaking techniques, and new themes and ideas not really explored on the big screen before.

Longlegs is interesting to me because of how much it attempts to grasp. It wants to be a haunting film about family dynamics like hereditary, and a mysterious crime movie like its inspirations, and a scary supernatural film. It tries to be this big, grand film with so much substance, but it tries to hard. Longlegs is interesting in the ways it fails: in its plot holes, in its poor storytelling, in its confusing elements but its over explaining all the things that aren’t confusing, in its beating of a dead horse that is Satan in horror.

And the thing is: I’ve seen some of Perkin’s other movies. I’ve seen I am the pretty thing that lives in the house, I thought it was new!! Unique!! But ultimately just not all that impactful, but it wasn’t trying to be the film of the century, and it didn’t have to be to be unsettling. Where he fails with Longlegs is trying to make a film that it isn’t. Horror doesn’t have to be the #1 film to be scary, your movie doesn’t need to have a complicated plot to be impactful and deep (especially if you can’t make it cohesive), your villain doesn’t need to be iconic. What makes movies like scream, Halloween, alien, silence of the lambs, etc iconic was that they told a story for the sake of a story, for the sake of fear, NOT for the sake of acclaim or a following or money.

I disliked Longlegs because it claimed to be innovative and terrifying and the film of the century when it was..just a movie. If they had marketed it as a thriller, as unsettling, etc it wouldn’t have left me feeling annoyed and disappointed and it would have lived up to its expectations. I like plenty of films with plotholes and lame plots and lame scares but none of them claim to be better than they are. Horror isn’t about acclaim, you get that by being good at what you do. Perkins is obsessed with how deep his movie is when it’s really not, and everything that could be deep isn’t really shown in the film (I.e Longlegs backstory). Longlegs had so much potential and so little follow through, it’s disappointing.

Fans of this movie love to tell people they’re dumb or stupid because they don’t like it. And I’m never going to ever tell someone they shouldn’t like it!! I’m not trying to cancel it, I’m critiquing it based on my opinions and experiences, it’s not as big of a deal and some people in my tags are making it out to be. Believe it or not, i can say Longlegs was shit and unoriginal and you can disagree with me without being a cunt in my notifications :)

If you have a reading of this movie that is different than mine I WANT TO HEAR IT!! If you see symbols and themes where I don’t TELL ME!! I want To have interesting discussions about a film!! But don’t be a dick.

So yes. Here is my longest post ever in which i prove to the world that I did understand Longlegs and saw what it was trying to do and still think it failed on every level. Media literacy as a buzzword to say ‘I don’t agree with your opinion’ is going to destroy the internet. Again.

Long legs was good for the first 2 mins and then I was like. Oh is nick cage being coded as a trans woman who kills children. And then I was like oh great another movie about murders for Satan like shut uppppp I’ve seen three hundred movies about fucking Satan. I don’t care that’s not scary it’s not interesting or innovative or new. It was so good, the ambience and the visuals and the camera work and the acting were AMAZING and then it was just the same old fucking story about man killing children for Satan. The fuck you mean this is a ‘refreshing’ movie I’ve seen the same thing in a million other movies

[gayskrillex]

GaySkrillex’s guide to shuffling tarot cards, for those who hate shuffling cards

This is kind of out of left field and niche for my blog, but I’ve overthought this too much not to share my findings.

When you get a new tarot deck, you have to shuffle it. There’s no way to get around this. I suggest a mix of gently washing the cards (as in spread them out on the table and move them around to mix them up; soap and water are not involved), overhand shuffling, and dealing the deck out into separate piles at random before stacking them back up. You’re welcome to use whatever method you feel is the most appropriate for getting to know a new deck, though. After this, you shouldn’t have to do a shuffle this involved ever again.

When it’s time to do a reading, draw five cards, face down. It does not matter how many you need for the reading.

From those five cards, turn over the number you need for the reading and interpret them as you like. If you’re performing the reading for someone else, I suggest letting them pick from the five cards themselves so their intent can affect the reading, but this is a personal preference of mine.

Flip the interpreted cards back over and shuffle them together with the rest of the five-card hand you drew. I just sort of mix them in my hands until I can’t remember what cards were where and then rotate the whole pack a few times until I can’t remember how they were rotated. It helps to make a conscious effort to not pay attention to exactly how you’re doing this.

Put the whole five-card pack at the bottom of the deck. Do not shuffle further.

Explanation and other notes below the cut.

So off the bat I want to say that I use tarot as a conversation starter or reflection, with either myself or the person I’m performing the reading for. It’s not my place to judge those who use tarot for other reasons, but I do want to stress that I don’t recommend blindly following interpretations when making important life decisions. Tarot is a tool, not a solution, and ultimately it’s up to you to make responsible choices.

The reason I came up with this method is that I noticed purely doing an overhand shuffle every time was both time-consuming and giving me a lot of repeats. I think this has to do with the way cards are broken in and the fact that a tarot reading only uses a tiny portion of the deck. It causes some cards to receive more wear than others, thereby making them separate more easily from the rest of the deck, which leads to an overhand shuffle that’s more likely to cut the deck in the same places, snowballing the wear on those specific cards. I could just do a riffle shuffle, but that requires dexterity I don’t have and bends the cards. Plus, tarot cards tend to be thicker than other cards, so they’re less willing to bend like that without suffering permanent damage.

As for why I recommend drawing 5, this is a way to introduce randomness. I think for a good reading it’s important that some cards are rarer than others, and moving some cards to the bottom of the deck without looking at them facilitates this. It makes readings more interesting and allows the recipient of the reading to influence the outcome. I chose the number 5 specifically, because it’s the smallest prime number that doesn’t divide evenly into 78. This means that when you pull a pack of 5 from the top and return it to the bottom, when you reach those cards next they’ll be split into separate packs, which is again important for maintaining a level of randomness. If you’re using a deck with a different number of cards, you may have to draw a hand of a different size, but so long as the number of cards in the deck doesn’t end in 0 or 5, a 5-card hand is a safe bet. If you’re doing a reading that requires more than 5 cards, just draw a multiple of 5. For instance, a weekly reading that needs 7 cards should pick from a hand of 10. If the hand needs exactly 5 cards, you could do either 5 or 10, or even 7, but 7 isn’t as easy to remember for those who aren’t as into math as I am. I recommend 10 for the extra randomness.

The major caveat of this method is that once you draw a card, the next time you see that card will be a minimum of 15 5-card draws later. Some people value the chance of getting the same cards frequently, though. In order to facilitate this possibility, you could put 1 or 2 of the 5-card pack on top and 4 or 3 on the bottom, or put 1 on top, 1 in the middle of the deck, and 3 on the bottom, or really any other combination, so long as cards are consistently going to the bottom of the deck to push cards near the bottom to the top to make them available for draws, but I think this extra step makes the whole process too convoluted and cumbersome to remember.

Lastly, if you’re picking from the 5-card hand yourself, since you’ve already shuffled those cards and will be shuffling them again, you could pick the card from the same position every time without sacrificing any randomness or influence over the cards, unless of course you’ve put cards from the previous pack on top of the deck, as described in the previous paragraph, in which case shuffling the hand before picking is strongly encouraged. Again, that method complicates things.

[chithrakoota]

Ayurvedic Treatment for Uneasiness Without Utilizing Spices

Experiencing uneasiness? Wanting to look for a specialist's recommendation and begin taking medications? Indeed, drugs ought to be kept away from as they attempt your quiet you down falsely. The reasons for tension are numerous and you want to pursue battling the reason and not the side effect, which is nervousness. A portion of the normal reasons for nervousness incorporates expanded vata, stress, absence of rest, an excess of work pressure, profound misbalance because of significant changes in life like separation, pregnancy, or marriage, skipping dinners, and a lopsided way of life to give some examples.

Assuming you are experiencing uneasiness, you attempt to look for exhortation from an ayurvedic master. Ayurveda dissimilar to doctor-prescribed prescriptions works normally and offers long-lasting outcomes. Also, you don't necessarily in all cases need to utilize ayurvedic spices for treat uneasiness. Here, we share a few normal solutions for uneasiness as recommended in Ayurveda:

Get Warm

Assuaging vata is required if you have any desire to decrease uneasiness. Cold increments it while warmth cuts it down. This is the justification for why many individuals will generally become restless during the winter.

On the off chance that you are feeling excessively restless, spoil yourself with a hot shower. You can likewise drink a glass of warm milk with saffron to diminish pressure. Keeping a high temp water pack under your feet while resting would likewise help and guarantee that you have a quiet evening.

Make and Keep a Sound and Adjusted Way of life

If you truly have any desire to battle uneasiness, this is quite possibly of the main thing that you really want to do. Keeping a solid and adjusted way of life can go quite far in decreasing pressure and uneasiness. Make an everyday practice and make an honest effort to follow it. By schedule, we mean, a proper opportunity to eat and rest.

The facts confirm that keeping up with such a routine is difficult in our chaotic timetables, however, it isn't unthinkable as well. Practice good eating habits and exercise consistently.

Follow a vata placating eating regimen. Stay away from caffeine and different energizers however much as could reasonably be expected. Eat less of starches and frozen food too. Drink warm soups and your vata additionally like sweet, pungent, and acrid food varieties. Never skirt your morning meal and try not to hydrate as water.

Get an Oil Back rub

Vata happens to breezy and dry thus you are restless, you will generally track down yourself 'up'. A warm oil back rub would take it back to the ground. Request that somebody rub olive oil, or sesame oil on your back and feet. While kneading your feet, put strain at the middle for a prompt quieting impact. Rubbing oil on the scalp, brow, and sanctuaries likewise works wonder, taking everything into account.

Abhyanga (entire body warm oil rub) is the most effective way to decrease pressure, however going through the same is generally impractical.

Practice Yoga

Profound breathing is one of most straightforward ayurvedic solutions for tension. Taking full breaths can diminish pressure and tension. It additionally does something amazing when you are irate and you need to control your displeasure.

Practice Pranayama consistently for best outcomes. Yogic breathing comes in various structures and you search online for themselves and practice what suits you the best.

Forward twists likewise help in cutting down tension generally. Doing kid's posture is another yoga that you can attempt.

Ponder

Contemplation overall is perfect for your sound. Contemplation is a strong method for mending your brain and body. Basically, sit for 10 minutes at one quiet corner of your home and think. This would lessen uneasiness and further develop your focus levels. Look at contemplation recordings on the Web or you can likewise join reflection classes.

These are a portion of the trusted ayurvedic medicines for nervousness and these works really. You can attempt every one of these at home and 100 percent wanted results are ensured. There are numerous homegrown solutions for uneasiness that you can attempt also. Recover soon!

Ayurvedic treatment centre in Karnataka is devoted to reestablishing and keeping up with the lost harmony between physical, mental, close to home, and profound well-being, through the comprehension and practice old enough old frameworks of Ayurveda and Yoga. Our solidarity lies in understanding the body and its exhibition at the protected level and that is the very thing we apply to our Cures.

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[a-weird-writer]

It's interesting that Diablo doesn't stir even in front of an eldritch entity, any human would probs go mad when seeing an eldritch true form but Diablo keeps together. I love all the little details you mention, especially when it comes to the descriptions of madness and the inhuman similarities he and eldritch reader share. Honestly he would prefer the true form probably.

Thank you, I love writing horror!

Gore gives me brain rot; I'm melting beneath the monsters that wanna rip me apart and the horrors that wanna destroy the planet. Eldritches and the moral concept of the mind, horror and scares send me in a massive spiral, with the drama and suspense packed into it? Amazing!

It's a whole lotta fun to run deep into, and its great practice if you ever want a feel for the horror genre. There are so many things you can do, more things to experiment with. I own a bookcase full of horror I admire revisiting, my inspiration mainly stems from them and other books I grew up with.

It made sense to me that Diablo wouldn't flinch in front of an Eldritch, given why and how he acts in TTIGRAAS canon. He is by no means a fool, and even more merciless. Less so to his kind and those separate in inhumanity, to which you are an upmost product of. A pinacol of extreme strain furthest thing from human, a foreign definition of unbalance further then demons themselves. Just more reasons to show no weakness, with you at a level of 'supernatural' Diablo could never physically reach no matter what form he evolves or achieves.

It takes an enormous amount of effort to intimate, let alone flinch, Diablo the slightest bit, head straight and his back even straighter. He is pretty fearless and cares not for the contrary. I said multiple times before, Diablo is completely unmoved by appearances all together, even ones meant to...

'unhinge' the brain.

The thing with Diablo is not only is he inhuman, but also extremely experienced. In other words, knowledgeable in more ways than one in good and evil. He knows quite a lot and knows exactly how useful-and dangerous-such knowledge is. Well informed of the powers and possible secrets beyond his world. As there are always shadows, he has only seen near all. Powers ahead and behind, in between and hidden, waiting for the light to drive them out. You are just another shadow, in need of studying, yet another secret to be revealed.

Uncovering thought and purpose is what Diablo specializes in, leaving no stone, vein and magicule unturned. Pride is Diablo's sin, and he absolutely shows it. There is no silliness with Diablo-even in the games he plays-only a master of the chess board, who aims to use his pawns to the fullest potential and predict the moves of his opponent long before they make it. In fact, it's something he is passionate about; the excitement, the amount of pleasure and satisfaction he gains from unveiling an ancient mystery, unraveling the world's lost wonders over yonder.

And what greater mystery then you?

A glitch, tearing solar wind in space, and a mistake in natural design?

No degree of science, experience in this universe or understanding could ever comprehend you, not when they measure with normalcy. No one who is normal, no one who is human could ever hope to survive singularity, your unstable, unchained self.

Your existence, the proof of a where above the atmosphere, requires a substantial amount of sheer will power and understanding-assuming you could be understood entirely-to even keep oneself' together, so much so you have to stabilize and simplify yourself beyond to walk amongst people,

even then it's still a stretched maybe.

Seeing as Diablo is a primordial demon that committed his fair share of atrocities within or outside Rimuru's rule,

no person in their right mind would call Diablo normal.

Diablo is a demonic weapon of mass destruction. He witnessed madness and insanity aplenty in his line of work, in all his centuries of walking the Earth. Downfalls of angels, humans and their greedy spiral for power and wealth. As well as fellow calamities, falling victim to their destruction and despair. Evidenced further by the primordial Demon Lords and their flow in the natural world, the innate fear they strike and the mayhem-all life devested within their range-they bring forth. To both innocent and deserving.

While Diablo is not immune to trauma, he experiences it vastly different than how normal people do, as expected from an ancient demon.

Cold as ice, incredibly discreet and ever most loyal to a fault. An enigma as you are, unpredictable and crafty as they may come. A shadow in a shadow, a secret of secrets. A riddle designed to confuse and overwhelm the morals, driven with very keen interest in the unknown and the mysteries of his world, the offers on the harsh outside.

Diablo is one of the few people who will effectively stand up to intense beings like Eldritches and some of the fewer that can come to understand them-or in this case you-individually and carefully. Or relate to them on certain scales.

[blueaetherr]

Trent imagines pls🥰

in another universe

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): angst?

summary: the one where the time comes to split

now playing: unholy matrimony by giveon

A Sunday afternoon was spent by Trent and Y/N cleaning out their shared bedroom. Not for a spring clean, not to make room for a third party, and definitely not to make room for one another. Shoes, clothes, jewellery—all packed separately with no intention of unpacking everything together again—it was the beginning of the process to rid themselves of each other. 

After some time and a while, the couple—ex-couple, that is—decided to not go through with their relationship, everything if you considered how much one's life revolved around the other. It was a decision that came rather late and purposely delayed. I mean there was so much to them, so much potential to Trent and Y/N that now would remain behind as waste and abandoned ideas. From the wedding to the family, the possibility was simply reduced to ash, and they had to accept it.

Opening their (the) closet door, Trent sighed when he noticed two pieces of clothing that had yet to be removed. He turned to the young woman sitting on their (the) bed. He called, "Y/N?"

Y/N, tired and near withdrawn, glanced away from the box she was closing up. "Yes, Trent?" There was so much seriousness when the two spoke, almost like they already forgot everything else that a conversation could hold. Like fun, and happiness, and pleasant vibes; now all that remained was something so strict and monotone. They were so drained of the good times that they used to have.

"You planning on taking your dress out of the closet any time soon?"

Y/N froze at the mention of her dress. Her wedding dress.

Their (the) closet was empty, apart from her white wedding gown and his black tuxedo. It was a simple action, to remove clothes from its closet yet they remained untouched for days. The two hadn't found the heart to touch their wedding attires, let alone discard them. It was so much heartbreak and gloom, especially when there was so much past good that came it, so many memories that reminded them of everything that led up to what could have been a marriage. 

The wedding gown that Y/N bought with her bridesmaids, the suit that Trent bought with his friends, the wedding gown and the suit that they showed one another days after purchase because Trent and Y/N were just that impatient. Maybe it was a just thing they did; their wedding day wasn't just halted until further notice, it was simply gone and would never make a recovery.

"I just don't see how it's that important."

"I'm sorry, what?" Y/N glanced at Trent with rather exaggerated shock. The football player let out a laugh. "How can you not care about what you're going to wear, Trent? It's your wedding day," she took a seat on the edge of their bed, "I mean surely you want to look good for that."

"Of course I do," Trent let out a long sigh and hummed softly, adjusting his arms behind his head. Noticing the small pout across her lips, he let out a small laugh once again, barely trying to hide his grin. It would show even behind his palm. "But I'm sure a suit I pick out won't be any different to what I already have. Besides, I think it'll be your wedding day more than it'll be mine, and that's okay. I'm okay with that. Everyone will only be looking at me when you aren't there."

"Okay, okay," Y/N mumbled, looking away to avoid Trent's smirk. For someone who received compliment after compliment from the same person every day, she had yet to get used to it all. "At least... at least just stick to the theme."

Trent listed off his fingers, "Black tux, white shirt, black bow tie."

Excitedly, Y/N offered her hand which Trent took a hold of and interlocked their fingers. "That right there."

Y/N harshly gripped the tape in her hand. It hurt, really, to think about everything, to think about all that could be, to wonder that maybe things could've worked out. But she had to shake her hand, let go and say to herself, it isn't going to work out. You've tried already tried but it's hopeless. 

"Uh," she scratched her head, "yeah. Um, soon. I'll get to it soon." Y/N didn't believe her own words, and neither did Trent because he felt the exact same. He, too, didn't know when he would build the courage to rid himself of his wedding attire.

Y/N blew out a huff, rubbing her hands over her face. "My parents are going to be so mad."

"I'm pretty sure we can get our money back on some things. Like the venue, the villa—

Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Not everything's about the money, Trent." 

That one would always remain one of Trent's flaws in the relationship. He was very materialistic. That's how he got through to other people, including Y/N, even if it felt forced. He asked Y/N to be his girlfriend with an expensive necklace, he bought her expensive clothes and jewellery. The act of giving excessively wasn't inherently bad until you realise Trent's gifts came as a result of his wrongs and arguments. Like when he proposed to her; the action came a week after a big argument. 

"Sorry," His face fell. It was something that Trent was trying to get over, valuing money over everything else. But clearly, he hadn't tried enough to save the relationship. "I didn't mean to offend—"

His voice was interrupted by Y/N's ringtone sounding across the room. The instrumental for Here Comes The Bride.

Alone together, Trent and Y/N were in a large hall for their first wedding rehearsal. They decided to arrive a bit earlier than everyone else, just to catch a moment for themselves.

"I don't think I even need to practice this," Y/N said as she moved around the hall effortlessly. Dancing, humming, smiling far too wide—this was her moment and she was enjoying it all a bit too much. "Like, I've had this in my mind since I was a kid."

"Oh yeah?" Trent tilted his head, almost like he was admiring his fiancée. "Walk me through it." Trent understood what this all met to Y/N. To have the perfect wedding, to have a moment to herself, to manifest every single detail she had envisaged in mind. He didn't mind stepping aside to let her lead the way.

"Oh, okay." She took Trent's hands and guided her back so he was further away from the entrance. She began to walk back, "So obviously you'll be standing at the altar. I'll walk down the aisle with," Y/N hummed a bit of Here Comes The Bride as she moved away from Trent, "playing, you know?"

"Maybe play the song," he encouraged, "to make this a bit easier for me to see."

Soon, Here Comes The Bride was softly playing in the large hall. "So this plays while I'm walking down the aisle, probably someone playing it on the organ preferably." She began to near Trent, with each step growing her smile, her happiness, all that she felt for her soon-to-be husband—everything there was to feel and experience in that very moment. "My niblings as the flower girls and ring bearer in front of me. My dad walking with me..."  

And there played out a memory that was all too stunning. With more smiles, more kind words, more displays of support, and more descriptions of the perfect wedding for Y/N and Trent—everything in abundance and comforting, all with Here Comes The Bride playing in the background.

But the more she heard that tune over time, the more that song sounded around a room before she answered a call, the more the uncertainty grew. The less Y/N felt like a bride, like a partner even. The less she felt like she was going to marry the love of her life. The more they began to drift apart, the less the two discussed the wedding and the marriage ahead of them. The more, finally, everything fell apart. After a while, the reality just sets in: they couldn't do it anymore.

"I really hate that we're ending like this, you know," Trent said, interrupting the silence in the room. The two had finished clearing out the room for the day, but they remained in their place refusing to speak to one another. Sighing when she didn't respond, he added, "But I should've known." 

That was where another problem lay for the two; they were never on the same page. While the relationship was two-sided, both Trent and Y/N felt like they were carrying most of the relationship's weight. The unspoken thoughts, the feelings, the confusion that came when something went wrong. That fault compromised everything they shared; believing that you and you yourself were carrying everything there was of a relationship while your partner was slacking felt so lonely, like you had no one to find comfort or confide in.

He asked, "Do you think we could've worked out, like for real?" It was more of a wonder than a question. He didn't direct it to Y/N; Trent placed it into the open for anyone to have their say on it. Maybe more opinions could put reality into perspective, that they simply weren't meant to be. Could they get back together, even if they are so hopeless?

But then he also hoped that Y/N would provide him with an answer. She was always one to rest easy with her decisions, always certain about everything she did or said. After all, she was his first opinion, and always seemed to have the right answers. Could we ever get back together, even if we are so hopeless right now?

And he was right to mention that she always had the right answers, as Y/N scoffed slightly with, "No. Of course not, Trent."

But then for the first time in a long time, Y/N took a glance at Trent. His eyes were timid and his posture was inward, closing in when she responded so harshly. But she had to. If she gave him the slightest idea that the two could work out, not only would Trent run with it but she would too. Much kinder, she explained, "No, Trent. Uh, I don't think so. I mean we tried and... just look where we're at now," she motioned to the now bare bedroom, "We messed up so many times to even look at the possibility of something. We're too lost for one another."

The sad reality of it all was that they were long gone for one another. Dating back to before the wedding rehearsals, before Trent had proposed, before Trent had asked Y/N to be his girlfriend, heck before they had even met. The thing is, they were never met to be together in the first place. It was written in the stars, something that couldn't be rewritten at any cost.

The fallout wasn't because of a disagreement over a wedding cake, or a lunch destination. Those were easy fixes, things that couldn't cause so much damage. Instead, Trent and Y/N simply weren't meant to be. No matter how hard they fought it, no matter how hard they tried to prevent the fallout, no matter how hard they tried to avoid all the evident cracks in the relationship—in the end, it would happen even if they had to experience a disaster to get over it.

"But I don't know," Trent lifted his head when Y/N let out a long sigh. She shrugged, clasping her fingers together, "Maybe... maybe we could've in another life."

"Another life?"

"Yeah, like... in another life, in another universe, in our past life." And there it was, a smile. Sure, it was small and shy, but it was there nonetheless. Either way, Trent noticed it like it was any other smile of hers. "Us— or them. All of the other Y/Ns and Trents out there," Y/N spread her arms out, "wherever they are, they can pull through. I'm sure of it. We just so happened to be the unlucky ones so then everything everywhere can run smoothly."

Trent and Y/N looked at one another and suddenly, neither could look away. The looks, so loving yet equally broken. The person that they fell in love with, the one that they planned to spend their life together with—they were right there, they were so close yet they had to let one another go and let their other half drift away. It felt like their love story ended way too soon. One couldn't forget that in all that brokenness, in all that heartbreak, there was something—maybe everything—quite good.

While it all had to happen, it was easy to forget that within all of this, there were two individuals either suffering or celebrating. And in this case, they were suffering. Y/N and Trent couldn't change the situation or the circumstances and they had to live with that, without one another.

The loneliness, the uncertainty– it was scary, even if they came with a bit of peace. Because deep down, even if they had to handle a lifetime of pain and worry, they wouldn't hesitate to endure it together. That way, it would feel like everything was okay. 

[swtki]

Boss - C.D

Pairing: CEO! Cedric Diggory x Intern! Fem! Reader

Summary: You fucked your boss, thats it.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, mentions of copulation, About a five year age gap (reader is 23 and Cedric is 28), alcohol.

A/N: not me just now posting this

When I was informed that my intern application had been accepted, I was ecstatic. It was my dream to work in the Aurors office, to fight the evil trying to destroy our way of life. Naturally, I went out drinking the night before - which granted, wasn't an amazing idea in the first place. I planned to have a few drinks, then grab a taxi for home. The tall, lean, brunette man sitting next to me was a later addition to the itinerary.

"Drinking to forget the demons, or celebrating?" he said, swirling his whiskey.

"Excuse me?"

He smiled, "It's just that usually people only come to a bar when doing either of the two."

"Oh," I turned my body towards him, "Celebrating, I suppose.". He smiled and nodded, taking a slow sip of his drink. "And you? Which is your reason?" Upon further inspection, I noticed he was dressed in a suit, but had taken off the jacket.

"Demons, I've lived a long time. Seen a few things."

"You can't be more than thirty, and obviously you do well for yourself. Businessman, perhaps? A wife, kids, a brilliant car?" I questioned.

"Not even close," He scoffed, "Twenty-eight, I've had the most experiences with near death than anyone you'll ever know. I live in an average flat, I don't own a car, nor do I have anything resembling a wife or kids." I sat there quietly. "So, what is it that you're celebrating...." he signaled as if he were asking for my name.

"Y/N, I start my internship tomorrow."

We talked for the rest of the evening, and he invited me to his flat. It eventually led to me waking up next to him in bed at two am, and blindly stumbling to my own home. Usually, one night stands weren’t my forte; Cedric was different. I didn’t know his last name, but I knew how he sounded - how he tasted.

My heels clicked on the linoleum floor of the ministry, I would start off in the office, filing for aurors and such. Even to assist them was an honor. My smile was wide as I entered the well lit office. A woman rushed by, her cup of coffee floating a few inches behind her. She saw me standing there, rather misplaced and stopped.

“Can I help you dear?” she said with a raised brow.

“Yes, I’m Y/N L/N, I’m the new intern.” The woman’s face relaxed.

“Ah- yes we were just talking about you! I’m Macy - I work in the same department as you actually. Come along, lets see you to your station.” Macy strutted away as I quickly followed behind, only stopping once we reached a small wooden desk in a separate room.

“This,” She pulled the chair out and motioned for me to sit, “Is your desk - its right next to the library so you can put together files more easily. My desk is over there.” She pointed her long red fingertips towards a decorated space; While mine had absolutely nothing, hers had pictures and intricate pens. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “they didn’t put your typewriter over here - lazy bastards.” With a swish of her wand, she brought me a slightly rusted device.

“Thank you, Macy.” She smiled and we started on my training. What to put wear, when to drop off the files, how to drop off the files, and so on. I looked at the clock as it struck five, the time flew by so fast that at first I thought it was broken.

As Macy and I walked out of the office together, I saw a fairly large office, blinds drawn down as much as possible. “Hey, whats that room there?” I pointed.

“Oh - thats Mr. Diggory’s office. I guess a case must have been rough, haven’t seen much of’m today. Probably meet him tomorrow, just needs to reset ‘s’all. “ I nodded and kept up with her, stopping once we reached our respective transportation.

As I walked in the next morning, I noticed someone blocking the door to my department’s office. He was tall, lean, slumping against the frame as if this were a solicitation friendly area - it wasn’t.

“Excuse me, I’d really like to get to my desk can you maybe-“ He turned around and with him my entire universe shook. It was him, it was Cedric. He stepped aside, not giving me the faintest of recognition that he had in fact been inside my guts only a few days before. I quietly walked in, my entire body feeling cold and stiff. I couldn’t quite place the feeling; Was it embarrassment? Hurt? I wanted to know so I could eradicate it.

The days passed and I succesfuly managed to avoid being alone with him. If we weren’t alone we couldn’t have the “talk”. I thought I was safe until I decided to stay a bit later than usual, packing up my stuff just as the last person had left, or who I thought the last person was.

I looked up when I heard three solid yet soft knocks on the door. My jaw went slack as I saw who it was.

“Got a minute?” he asked.

“I suppose…” my voice was quiet, why was I so nervous in front of him? He walked over to the desk beside me and leaned on it.

“You haven’t talked to me since - since that night. I woke up and you were gone, I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Well - maybe it would have been for the better, Mr. Diggory-“ He leaned forward slightly.

“Please, call me Cedric when we’re alone. I want you to be my equal when in private. And no, I don’t think it would have been for the better. You- you’re brilliant you know?” I hummed in response. “Y/N, I want you to be more than a subordinate. I want to take you to dinner - to do all the parts we skipped before.” I bit my lip, hesitantly.

“I need to….I need to think on it.”

“Right.” He said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets. A pit formed in my stomach, had I just rejected him on accident? Was it possible my soul mate stood a few feet from me and I was in the process of fucking it up? He dropped his composure a bit. “Well, I’ll be off then. Have a lovely night, Y/N.” He said my name so well, so smooth. Like the night we first met, he was so natural yet so put together. He turned to walk out of the door, not hesitating for a small second. My thoughts ran wild with every step he took away from me.

“Fuck.” I hissed under my breath, opening the door and walking out to the hall as fast as I could. I spotted him - waiting for the lift. “I don’t,” He looked up from the floor, “I don’t have anything for tea tonight - plans I mean. I’d like to take you up on that offer.” My hands grasped themselves, thumbs twiddling as I saw him smile and start to laugh.

“You,” He stepped closer to me, leaving the tile where the lift was located, “Sure like to make this hard for me.” He lifted my hand to his face, leaving a soft kiss on the back of my hand.

And thats how I became the girlfriend of Cedric Diggory, the man who won the Tri-wizard tournament. It turned out, I had in fact been standing next to my soulmate the entire time.

[delldarling]

bearberry bargain | pyre

male arctic fox shifter x gender/body neutral reader 10,261 words lemon | older shifter, knotting, oral, penetrative sex, no choking but there is throat touching, tricks and bargains, getting lost note: this was the Story of the Month for December 2020 over on my Patreon! It is loosely tied into the same world as my dragon fellow Arroven, but reading Arroven’s story first is most definitely not required. 

————-　🦊　————-

The tundra is a gorgeous, but unforgiving landscape. You can hear the words on repeat in your head, clear as a twice damned bell. Worse than that, you can see Bristle, the orc woman that had served as your guide out here, in your mind's eye saying the words as she gestured to the fog drenched terrain. And The Mirrored Teeth are a little more dangerous than most. In the rain, or like now, in the fog, the stone spires gleam. They are beautiful, and all too easy to mistake for a far off porch light, or street lamp—but that isn’t what’s truly dangerous out here.

Bristle’s partner, a curly haired satyr by name of Rhim, with coins jingling in his carefully coiffed beard, had then stepped up to speak. Unfortunately, The Mirrored Teeth weren’t named for the teeth-like spires alone. The mirroring, or in this case, echoing, is the real danger. Voices carry strangely out here when the fog is thick, and if someone is lost? Our first instinct is to travel towards a light, or someone shouting. Whether the voices are our own, bouncing back to us from the spires or the mountains, or they’re the product of a still-living magical area?

They’d both spoken in unison then, smiling at each other with the ease of familiarity: Don’t follow the voices.

Each person in the tour group had been given a small token after their list of safety precautions, to serve as a tracker in case someone was separated. One person had asked if it was likely to get lost, and Bristle had snorted before she’d adopted her tour guide voice again. To come out here in the first place, everyone had been asked to sign a waiver because, inevitably, someone did end up wandering away. They followed voices that sounded like loved ones from past or present. They followed voices that sounded like themselves, calling out warnings. It was generally why people ended up taking the tour in the first place, listening eagerly for a voice they’d long since thought lost, or some kind of warning from their future self, so compelling and entrancing that they must be the product of magic. Most, though not all, of the people were generally found. Overtired and aching from sleeping on the ground out in the cold, but otherwise unharmed. Whatever caused the voices, magic or not, didn’t seem to hurt people, only leave them confused.

A few of the others currently with the group had come out for more academic reasons. Art and science in most cases, but otherwise those going on the tour were magic chasers, looking to record the fog voice phenomena for further study.

You might not have come out here with a recorder, but you can’t exactly deny that magic chaser applies to you as well. Claims of The Mirrored Teeth holding tangible residual magic are terribly rampant. You’ve wanted to witness it for yourself, to hear the voices, or feel the soft ache of magical energy on your skin, just the once. You’ve wanted… Well, it’s hard sometimes, not to want to feel the call of magic.

“And look where it’s led you,” you mutter, searching your pockets for the hundredth time. You know you won’t find the token, that you must have lost it when you slipped on some slick moss about an hour ago, but you can’t stop yourself now. It’s like trying to leave a loose thread alone once nervous fingers have found it. You keep reaching for the token, keep trying to find it, even though you know nothing you do will help any longer. You don’t recognize any of the surrounding terrain.

When you’d started out with the tour group, there hadn’t been anything but fog and the scrubby ground, hardened by a hidden layer of permafrost. You’d seen pictures of the teeth-like spires, but hadn’t been able to spot any when you first arrived. Now, every time you turn around it feels like you’re surrounded by the damned things. They radiate a soft glow, magnified further by the heavy mist and from far off? They look just like the teeth they’re named for. “Done in by moss,” you add, straining your eyes to see further through the fog. ”Not even by the voices!” Which, frankly, was disappointing. Not that you wanted to be lost in the first place, but hearing some of the voices the Mirrored Teeth are known for would have at least given you a better reason. An expected reason to be lost or wandering away from the group. Instead you’d simply slipped, brushed off a handful of withered greenery and pebbles, and had gotten back to your feet to find yourself alone.

You’d shouted yourself hoarse after the first half hour, calling out for Bristle and Rhim, staying in the same place, or assuming you’d stayed in the same place. You’d bent to find the token again, but even that had apparently been too much movement. Every time you lifted your head to look away from the ground, there was a different bit of flora springing up in front of you—and then you’d nearly smacked yourself head first into one of the spires, none of which are clearly marked on the map you have of the surrounding area. There’s always too much mist to plot them.

“Bristle! Rhim?” You call out again, cupping your hands around your mouth, not knowing if you should even hope for some kind of answer. What if they don’t answer because of the echoes? What if that’s the reason they’ve yet to answer in the first place?

The soft crack of a branch makes you whirl, throat growing tight when you spot the shadow of three figures through the fog. They straighten up, huffing, and the fog slowly spins away, shadows coalescing and revealing an older man shouldering a pack that he’s clearly just dug up from the ground. For a moment, he’s silent, staring, hand clenching tight at his pack as his eyes rove over your face. His gaze dips to your feet and lifts quickly back to your face before he wipes the surprise from his expression. “I hoped I was mistaken,” he grouses in a soft voice, tossing his head to get his ragged mane of salt and pepper hair out of his eyes. “But ‘lo, a human. Those tours are getting earlier and earlier every year, aren’t they?” He sighs, not asking like he expects an answer, but more like he’s just making an unpleasant statement. For half a second you have a retort on your lips, but the longer you stare, the more words vanish from your vocabulary.

The man has clearly tried to tame his ragged hair, weaving it into a messy, short braid that’s just long enough to hang over his right shoulder. There are earrings hanging from his right earlobe, dangly things that clink softly while he brushes impatiently at the dirt on his knees. His jacket, once a lovely heather gray, and obviously a match to a long lost suit, is patched and worn in multiple places. His jeans are nothing to write home about either, with frayed hems and patched knees. He has silvery stubble on his cheeks, and crows feet at the corners of his copper eyes, and—and a long tail, like a bottlebrush, fur standing on end. Until he sees that you’re watching. The tail vanishes behind his legs and your eyes zero in on his sharp nailed fingers, the backs of his knuckles covered with pale, soft looking hair. He grimaces, baring razor edged teeth, and promptly makes to stride past you, not even bothering to wait for you to get out of the way. He draws a rough breath as soon as he bumps into you, flinching away from actually knocking you to the ground, but it’s near enough to set your temper stoking.

Frankly? His manners are atrocious. But you’re also lost somewhere out in the tundra, and even if he doesn’t know where your tour is, he knows of them. You wrestle your temper into staying silent and rush after him.

“Wait! Hey, wait up,” you ask, ignoring the thrill that runs through you when you snag hold of his jacket sleeve and his tail bristles again. He’s not just hiding a tail either. His feet look more like great canine paws, which means—

The man whirls, and you spot two furred ears hidden under his uneven hair before he yanks his arm away from you, breathing far too fast. “Surely you know better than to grab at a shifter?” He hisses, leaning in close to your face. For half a second, he’s close enough for you to feel warmth radiating off of his body, but then his nostrils flare and his voice grows quiet. “Or are you from one of those backwater humans only villages in the East?”

“I’m—I’m sorry for grabbing you,” you blurt, mildly startled by his proximity to your face. “And while yes, that wasn’t a smart idea, I’m lost out here. Would it have been smarter of me to let you leave me in the dust before I asked for directions?” You take a slow step back, though you don’t let your eyes drop from his. You’re not going to take your eyes off of him for even a second if it means the fog is going to swallow him up and leave you all on your lonesome again.

The shifter narrows his copper eyes, highlighting the faint wrinkles in his brown skin. “Lost, you said?” He straightens, and keeps staring, eerily still. His frown only grows more pronounced when you nod your head. “You’re three days out from where the tours start. How long have you been lost?”

“Three days,” you repeat, uncomprehending. For another few seconds, the words don’t make any kind of sense. You’ve been separated from your group, according to your watch, for just over an hour. When you glance at the timepiece, only another handful of minutes have passed, but not enough time to even come close to explaining three days worth of travel. Your pulse is already racing, but it’s beginning to grow past the point of discomfort and into painful territory with how hard your heart is working. How the hell are you supposed to get back? “That’s not possible,” you breathe.

He doesn’t soften, but for a few moments he doesn’t look quite so irritated. “If you heard anything at all on that tour, then I’m sure you know it is possible. Residual magic, yes? It can do quite a bit more than just throw voices like a puppeteer.” He shifts his weight, like he’s ready to leave the moment you give him a chance.

“I’ve been lost for an hour,” you say, hoping that will spell out exactly how ridiculous you find his claims. “And I did my best to stay in one place. I’ve barely even begun to walk anywhere, and I didn’t—didn’t feel anything magical.”

“Isn’t it terribly rare to feel anything magical?” He asks, only gently mocking. “So few people even notice when something magical has happened to them. Now, it sounds as if the fog leapfrogged you through space,” he adds, wrinkling his nose. “Or did those green guides of yours not mention that something like this might happen?” He waits, but when you don’t immediately answer, the shifter sighs again, shakes his head and pivots, heading back into the still-swirling fog, ready to leave you behind.

You make another desperate grab for his sleeve, thankful that he only grimaces when he turns back to face you again. “In fact, yes, they did forget to mention! If you happen to have a satellite phone, or maybe-”

The shifter laughs and your grip on his sleeve grows slack. He’s rather handsome when he smiles, and looks like some kind of down-on-his-luck musician, dreaming of his glory days. You hastily let go of his sleeve, before he decides to yank himself away a second time. “Me? Ol’ Pyre, wandering about the tundra with a satellite phone?” He lifts his bag, clumps of dirt still falling from it. “I’m coming out this way to spend the winter in my other skin, and generally? Foxes have no use for phones.” He lifts his chin, scenting the air, and then nods his head in the direction behind you. “Head that way and the fog is likely to lead you right back.”

“Likely or certain?” You press, scowling. “Because there’s a rather large difference between those two options, and I’m not going to risk myself on likely.”

Pyre huffs out a sharp edged: “Which do you think?” before he registers the way your hands are starting to shake with nerves. His mouth opens, and then snaps shut. For a long moment he’s quiet, gritting his teeth, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not prepared for more than an evening trek through the tundra, are you? Enough food for a snack and dinner round a campfire before they herd you back?”

A small wave of relief loosens your shoulders. If he’s asking, then surely he’s not going to turn tail and leave you all by your lonesome? You start to smile, ready and willing to ask for further help, but Pyre turns away with a quiet curse.

“Pitiful idiots,” he says, glancing up at the sky, even though he can’t see anything but the vague hint of daylight through the thick fog. “Three days. And leaving would be akin to murder.” He bares his teeth, still looking up for a few seconds longer before he turns a sharp look your way, fingers curling and uncurling at his side. “I’ll lead you as far as the Slavering river. If you stick to that and keep yourself from wandering off into the fog again, you’ll certainly make it close enough for those idiot guides to find you.”

Slavering, the river is called, Bristle’s voice picks up in your head again, because they once thought the tundra a hungry thing, with teeth besides. She’d gestured to the West, though none of the group had been able to spot or hear the roar of the water yet. It had just been another wall of fog over hard earth and low growing shrubs. We’ll end our hike there.

You offer Pyre your hand, still worried about the trek, still ill at ease with what the fog has done, but feeling decidedly less panicked. Residual magic my ass. As soon as I’m back, the guides are going to expand that little safety speech of theirs.

“Thank you, really. I appreciate it. If I hadn’t—”

“Save your breath for the walk,” Pyre mutters and fully ignores your outstretched hand, skirting around you in a wide arch so he won’t risk touching you accidentally. He doesn’t get more than a few paces away though before he’s turning to look at you over his shoulder. “And keep up. If the fog decides to deposit you somewhere else, there aren’t many other helpful shifters wandering about the area.” He saunters off ahead, trusting you to make your own way, but the fur on his tail doesn’t lay flat until you’re jogging to catch up with him.

“Are there dangerous shifters then?” You risk asking, thankful for your heavy coat and the weight of your own pack. Bristle and Rhim hadn’t mentioned any shifters in the area at all, but then they also hadn’t told any of you that the residual magic might move you without your knowledge. Perhaps they would have, if you’d been allowed to stick around, but it feels like a glaring oversight, now that you’re all the way out here. Maybe this is why they make everyone sign the waiver. Not because of some idiotic, siren-like voices, but because of magical fog.

Pyre’s ears twitch, visible for only a split second through his hair. “Don’t wander off,” is all he chooses to add before he falls silent, doing his best to stay several steps ahead of you to discourage speech.

“That’s encouraging,” you mutter, and his ears twitch again, but he doesn’t respond. The walk to the Slavering is going to feel like a very long one from the looks of it, and it isn’t just because everything looks much the same no matter which way you turn. You shove your hands deep in your coat pockets, watching the middle of Pyre’s back, and do your best not to unconsciously search for the lost token. You already know your pockets are still empty.

————-　🦊　————-

Despite Pyre’s desire for absolute silence, he mutters about things without thinking. He comments quietly on a hare speeding away when a noise startles you. He grabs up handfuls of wild berries off of the scrubby bushes you pass, promptly dropping any that are too spoiled to be edible. He flicks some of them away with soft, but mocking farewells until he recalls that you’re not far behind him, listening to everything he says. Pyre’s threadbare shoulders always rise with embarrassment, but after the third time it happens and he remembers you’re there, he sighs, shaking off his chagrin. He pauses just long enough to grab your arm and slap some of the berries into your open palm, doing his best not to meet your eyes.

When he speaks, he keeps his eyes on your fingers, touch careful and tense. “Eat those if you’re feeling peckish, or save them for this evening and you can boil them down into tea. Don’t dive into any of your stores if you can until sometime tomorrow.”

“What about you?” You ask, noticing that he’s barely kept any at all for himself. A berry or two slips away, rolling off of your hand and dropping to the ground.

Pyre arches a brow, closing your hand around the berries so no more can fall before he takes a step back. “I’ll be hunting as soon as I leave you by the river. I’m more than well equipped to look after myself out here. A few berries won’t make much of a difference.”

“Is this a regular thing for you then? Coming out here to the tundra once a month for shifting?”

“For the winter,” Pyre corrects in a sour tone, and then turns back to his chosen path again. “Coming out to the tundra isn’t a regular thing for you though, is it? Or was it just the magic that left you so frightened?”

The berries he’s given you are small and gleaming red, and you don’t much care for his continued irritable attitude. You pop three into your mouth while you ignore him, expecting it to be, at the worst, bitter. Instead it’s dry. You make a noise of distaste, which makes Pyre glance back again. He stops, confused for all of two seconds before his eyes widen and he chokes on his laugh. The sour twist of your mouth is clue enough. “Definitely not a regular traveling spot,” he states. “Unfamiliar with bearberries?”

“I hope that isn’t what they taste like when they’re boiled,” you mumble, doing your best to refrain from scrubbing at your tongue. “And no, the tundra isn’t really a prime vacation spot for me or most anyone else. The draw of lingering, tangible magic is a little too much for some people to ignore though. Maybe not everyone, but some of us.”

Pyre hums, tail raising when he hops over a strange looking crack in the earth. “Feeling a call?” He asks, voice far too even to be pleasant.

That’s a personal question in most places, and Pyre has already quietly mocked your interest in magic once. He does seem the type to poke at uncomfortable topics though, to try and get a rise out of someone. His tail is still bristled out as well, quietly hinting that he’s not in a pleasant mood. “Is that why you come out here during the winter? I don’t hear much about other shifters vanishing for an entire season, fox or not.”

“The only call I’ll ever feel is the one to shift,” he grumps, but he does smack his lips and slow down for a moment, letting you keep pace. “I make bad decisions,” Pyre finally adds, as if that clarifies anything at all.

“All the time? Or-”

“Smartass.”

“That wasn’t even hard, are you really going to fault me for that one?” You wait, patiently, but no answer is forthcoming, and then he rushes forward a few steps ahead. “I’ll take that as a yes?” You call out, but Pyre just keeps walking, like he’s reached the end of his tolerance for speaking politely with another living being. “Well, that was nice while it lasted,” you mumble, frowning when you spot his shaking shoulders. He’s—he’s laughing. Maybe he isn’t suffering from lack of manners entirely, but instead has been too long out of practice.

“Not all the time,” Pyre calls back when he trusts his rasp of a voice not to betray his amusement. “Just a fourth of it.”

For the season, he’d said. You snort and don’t even try to hold back a smile when Pyre tilts his head to look at you. His head immediately snaps forward and he shakes it, as if to ward off an unhappy thought. He’s grumpy because... he’s awkward and shy? The last of your fear, still borne aloft by the way he’s spoken thus far, by his quiet mutter of akin to murder eases immeasurably. You follow after him now in less strained silence, a bit more confident now that you’ll make it back to the tour group in one piece.

————-　🦊　————-

Your confidence lasts until early evening, when visibility is becoming a huge issue for you. No matter how well you might see in the dark, the fog feels like it’s pressing in on you from all sides. Pyre hasn’t slowed by much, but then you see the pale, rapid swish of his tail, moving so fast it looks for a moment like he has more and then you recall that he’s a shifter. His eyesight, as well as his sense of smell, are by far better than your own. He might be able to keep going well into the night, but—You grunt, catching your toe on a white rock the height of your ankle. Before you can fall, or do much more than exclaim in quiet pain, Pyre has his hands on your shoulders, keeping you up and steady.

“It’s dark,” he says quietly, by way of apology. “We’ll stop for the night just up ahead. Can you make it?”

“Without tripping over rocks or falling on my face, you mean?” You breathe in, and promptly swallow. He smells a bit like fresh campfire smoke and the faint citrusy scent of the bearberries and he’s entirely too close. You don’t necessarily want him to move away though, not with the darkness growing thick around you. “Probably not,” you admit quietly.

Pyre hums, breathing in slowly, and the sound is terribly intimate. “...you need a hand?”

“Unless you’d rather I trip and skin my knees and palms in the dark? Yes.”

“Humans,” Pyre says, amused, and clucks his tongue as he takes hold of your wrist, turning away to continue on and pull you after him. He only pauses when you try to tug your hand away.

“You can hold my hand instead of towing me along like a kid at the fair. I don’t even have sticky fingers.” You turn your hand, thankful when he lets you adjust his hold. His fingernails, thicker due to his shifting nature, dig a little too hard into the side of your hand before he reflexes his grip.

He pauses, tense, even though his palm is a soothing warmth against yours. “Not sticky,” he finally agrees. Pyre hesitates, like he wants to say more, but a low, strange voice calls out something from far off. As soon as you hear it, the voice has it’s hooks in you. Your entire body grows tense, hair prickling, listening as hard as you can to try to make out the words. “No,” Pyre says in a low growl, trying to interrupt your concentration. He’s only barely louder than the voice. “Don’t listen. It’s all too easy to-”

“That sounds like—”

“It sounds like nothing that matters. Even if you know the voice, it doesn’t matter.” Pyre grunts when you turn your head, trying to follow the fading voice with your ear alone. He rips his hand out of yours so he can take hold of your face, pulling you close until you’re nearly nose to nose with him, thumbs on your cheekbones, fingernails scratching gently behind your ears. “Right now, the only thing that matters is making camp for the night. We’re heading this way and you are not going to go looking for that voice in the dark.”

You suck down a fierce breath, closing your eyes as the last of the echoing voice fades away. As soon as it’s gone, your shoulders start to slump, and you feel strangely hollow. “That is why they make us sign that waiver?” You ask, opening your eyes to find Pyre still terribly close, his hands still cradling your face.

For a moment, he lingers, breath warm against your lips, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening the longer he stares at you up close. The bright copper of his eyes is muted in the darkness, but the white in his hair, in his eyebrows, stands out brilliantly, and you think there might be more of it now than there was earlier this afternoon. “I knew you’d be a bad decision,” he whispers, and inexplicably, you think he might be about to kiss you. Your heart begins to gallop around your chest, your hands lifting to grasp at his wrists, his own still on your face—and then Pyre pulls away, dragging his nails over your skin. He tangles his fingers with yours and leads you quietly through the dark.

You’re not sure whether you should ask about his other bad decisions again… But you desperately want to.

Putting together the camp is a chilly affair at best. The shelter you help Pyre fumble through in the dark, though of course he has no trouble navigating the process, is little more than a heavy tarp tied securely between two of the tall, white teeth. There isn’t much wind, but now the mist is heavy enough to dot your eyelashes and bead along your sleeves. You don’t quite believe Pyre when he says he can get a fire going, forcing you to sit next to the small ring of stones he’s gathered. “There’s a copse of trees not far from here,” he explains, tilting his head to your right, though you can’t see anything through the fog, and especially not in the dark. “And I’ll be able to scrounge up enough for a fire.”

You want to ask him if he’ll be able to find his way back to you. If he thinks you’ll be safe sitting here on your own, especially after the voice from earlier. Voicing your concerns feels a bit too much like an invitation for bad luck though, and you still don't know Pyre very well. He might be helping you out of the goodness of his heart, but he's already dubbed you a bad decision. You're not sure you want to push things. “Won’t the wood be wet?” You ask instead, chafing your hands together to stir up a little bit of heat.

“No fear of shifters,” Pyre scoffs, straightening up and pulling his bag off of his back. “No screaming at strangers when you're lost in the foggy tundra, but you're worried about damp firewood?" You scowl, knowing full well he can see your expression. That surprises a rough sounding laugh out of him. "I may choose to spend my winter as a fox, but that doesn't mean I don't turn back into a man when spring comes." Pyre brandishes a small box, a tin filled with what sounds like matches. He rattles them about for emphasis. “Charmed matches are a necessity out here, not optional. Even if the wood is damp, they’ll catch well enough to last us the night.”

Charmed matches aren’t exactly common. A package of them, when used only in dire situations, should last someone a score of years at least, and as the spells to make them are some of the few guarantees of still working magic… They cost a pretty penny. “...should you be wasting them on me when I’m supposed to find the tour guides tomorrow?”

Pyre shakes the box at you, silently insisting you take it from his hand. When you take it from him, there’s more hair, more fur on his fingers than there was earlier in the day. You wonder if it’s a conscious change to help stave off the chill, or if it’s simply too close to when he shifts. “We need some way to boil a bit of water for bearberry tea, don’t we? Unless you’d rather eat them plain.” He sounds like he’s smiling, but the dark is getting more oppressive and you can’t see it. Pyre’s tone turns a little more serious, a little more apologetic as he continues: “And using them seems to keep away the voices, so yes. As I’ve taken responsibility for your safety—”

“Responsibility,” you murmur, arching a brow, but you can’t exactly disagree.

“—I’ll do exactly as I said. You’ll get to the Slavering, and I’ll even give you a match as a gift. You can make a torch as you head back and the voices should leave you be.”

You don’t shake the tin of them, knowing that they’re valuable, but you stroke your finger over the top, following the raised patterns of letters. “Will they work, even if they’re unlit?”

Pyre waits, and you don’t know whether he’s reluctant to give you an answer or he doesn’t actually know. “Are you worried about me going to grab the firewood?”

Well, it was kind of ridiculous, trying to hide your nervousness from him anyway. You’re lost in the tundra with someone you don’t know. No matter how resilient you are, it’s going to be nerve wracking. “I’ve never felt quite as strange as when I heard that voice, even with you pulling me back from it…” You stop, a frown growing on your lips. “But the voice didn’t do anything to you. You had no problem telling me not to listen to it.”

Pyre crouches, his knees popping, and groans quietly, rubbing at the patch just under his left kneecap. You can see his hands, pale fur the only spot of brightness in the night. “They don’t much affect shifters. We’re…. We’re already rather full of magic ourselves, even if it isn’t the kind one can use by uttering spells or mixing ingredients in a pot. Whatever the reason, the voices don’t seem to like magic. So a box of those matches?” He reaches out to tap on the tin with one long nail. “It should keep you from falling prey for the few moments it will take me to gather wood. I still wouldn’t get up though, then you might risk dropping it.”

You don’t know everything about the tundra, even with what research you did before you came on the trip, and the talk of magic here? It’s still something people want to study. One of the ones that came with a recorder would probably be thrilled to hear this much about the place from… Pyre might not be a year-round local, but he knows quite a bit. If he can hold off his shifting, maybe you’ll ask him to talk to one of them. “I’ll be safe,” you say, extrapolating, “as long as I stay sitting here. You’ll be able to find me again?”

“...I’ll be able to follow your scent, yes,” he admits, like he expects you to be irritated with the thought. Far, far away, another voice echoes, much fainter than the one you’d heard before. It doesn’t sound pained or panicked though, it sounds a bit like—Pyre takes your fingers, almost crushing them around the tin box in your hands. The voice vanishes. “You’ll be safe,” Pyre repeats, and a breeze whisks through the area, catching at his wild grey and white hair.

“Then get the wood,” you say, before you lose your nerve. “I’ll wait.” Pyre’s hand, still curled tightly around your fingers, eases. He brushes his thumb over the valleys between your knuckles and then pulls away.

“A few moments only. I promise,” he whispers, and then his canine-like feet are scuffing through the hard dirt and lichen covered rocks.

As soon as he’s gone, you soothe yourself by running your fingers over the tin of matches, trying to figure out what words are written along the top in fine, curling letters. There are too many loops though and when you do your best to try and focus on it, bringing it up close to your face, all you can see is that places on the tin have been worn down. Whatever it might say, the color on the tin won’t help you figure it out. It feels like only seconds, but another noise echoes in the darkness, your heart jumping back into overdrive. You clutch at the matchbox, but then Pyre is stepping out of the heavy fog, dropping a heaving armful of twisted branches and thick tangles of what looks like weeds.

“Moments, I thought you said! What was that, 30 seconds?” You ask, trying to calm your racing heart.

Pyre laughs. “I think you were just lost in thought, hm? It’s easy to lose track of time in the dark.” He kneels at the ring of rocks, cursing, even though you can’t hear any popping in his limbs this time. “Now, give me the matches and let’s get things a bit warmer, hm?”

You hand them over, and then get to work. You feel more than see Pyre’s surprise when you start picking up the branches and weeds. “I may be human, but I can help do a bit of work. It’s the last I can do after you helping me like this, what with your shifting getting close.”

“Noticed that, did you?” He asks, tin creaking as he opens and closes the lid. You glance over, but other than his pale fur, you can’t make out what he’s actually doing. A second later and he’s striking one of the charmed matches over a rough rock, and then it blazes merrily in a bit of fire smaller than a penny. “I won’t be a danger. I’m old enough to keep my wits. My… I should warn you, my breed of shifting isn’t always so pretty as others though.”

“Is that why you come out here?”

“One of many reasons,” Pyre mutters and holds the match to the wood in the fire pit. The match doesn’t burn down immediately though, or even catch the weeds when he touches it to them. Pyre deposits it carefully in the exact middle of arrangement, planting it almost like a seedling in the wood and weeds. Only after he removes his hand does the match start to spark, and then fire twists open like a blooming flower. It’s gorgeous. You lift your eyes to Pyre, awe clear in your gaze, and then you have to blink. He’s still the older man you saw this afternoon. He still has a mostly human face, but his arms look longer now, and his copper eyes flash strangely in the firelight. He glances at you, and you see that his mouth has grown wider, the edges either curling back towards his cheekbones or… Or his jaws are elongating. “Frightened?” He asks, and then you realize that you’ve been staring.

“Mildly startled,” you correct, refusing to look away. Whether he’s a pretty kind of shifter or not, you can still see him in his eyes and the way he holds himself.

He chuffs, and the noise warms something deep in your chest. “Smartass,” he says, sounding very fond. “I’ll make some of that tea now then, if you’d like it.”

“Bearberry tea,” you muse, reaching in your pocket for the rest of the berries he’d given you. Pyre unearths a small cooking pot from his bag, as well as an earthenware mug, glazed some kind of deep green. He hands you the mug and then holds out the pot, nodding his head when you lift your berry filled hand over it. It takes longer than you would like. Pyre has to mash the berries down and then he surprises you by standing and tugging at the tarp edge of your shelter. Water, mist really, beaded so heavily along the taut plastic that there’s enough to fill the pot near to overflowing. It’s much more than you would have thought, but Pyre seems unsurprised, even though you’ve both been relatively dry since he started building the fire.

“Alright,” you finally say, watching Pyre stir the faintly pink water with a metal spoon from his bag. “You mentioned bad decisions, and I’m not wise enough to leave it well alone. What are all these ‘bad decisions’ that drive you out into the tundra for an entire season? And, I can’t not clarify, were they flings?”

Pyre stares at you, eyes gleaming in the firelight, his too wide jaw falling open due to your blunt questions. When he laughs this time, it’s a sharp bark and more fox-like than human. “Oh, you are one of them. Much more perceptive than many of the others.” He licks his lips, still human-smooth, but his ears have grown longer. They’re peeking out from the sides of his head, poking through his hair now. “Some of them were flings. Some of them were just… A way to stave off loneliness, even if they were unpleasant.”

“And where am I falling on that scale?”

Pyre arches a thicker brow, baring his sharp teeth in a slightly eerie smile. “I wouldn’t be opposed to a fling with someone like you, but your companionship is more than enough if that’s all you want to give.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Then how, exactly, am I a ‘bad decision’? Making friends isn’t a bad thing, is it?”

Pyre’s smile wavers. “No, no it isn’t.” He looks away, into the middle of the fire, where the charmed match is still blazing like a seed of flame. “The bad decision is that my loneliness drives me to go looking in the first place.”

You let a few moments pass in relative silence, puzzling over his words. It sounds more than strange, but you can’t put your finger on why. “What does that mean?” You finally ask, noting the way he’s digging his nails into his thighs.

He looks back at you. “Anyone who wanders out here is an offering, of sorts. To help bear the brunt of winter. The tours… They’re more like a ritual than those guides of yours realize.”

Your head feels strangely empty. Ritual, he’d said. Slowly, you think back to the myths linked to the tundra, to the Mirrored Teeth, to the folktales attached to cities and Serpent Towers. There had been something about bearing the brunt of winter, holding it back from sweeping over the land…

“Your time here will be no more than the three days I promised. You will be taken back to the Slavering, with only this time gone from the memories of others, and I will do nothing but what I promise: to lead you back, if that is all you desire.” Pyre creeps closer, long arms and long fingers bracing himself on the dirt. All it takes is a single stretch and he’s by your side, towering over you in his half shifted form. “The bad decision was that I was given the right to choose without any warning. That I could only claim those I charmed away.”

“You charmed me?” You whisper.

“You heard my voice,” Pyre explains and your heart beats painfully in your chest. He is why people vanish from the tours and come back tired and dirty but… But most of them come back unharmed.

“What happens to those that don’t make it back?” You ask, trying to quell your panic.

Pyre’s shoulders hunch. “Sometimes people react poorly, and they run. Running in the fog is never wise.”

“How am I… How am I supposed to help you keep winter from swallowing the world?”

Pyre barks out another laugh, though he’s grimacing. “Those years I don’t have a companion, winter escapes my hold. It’s much easier to keep in check with help.”

“Helping how?” You ask, voice going brittle.

“Companionship. You’re already bound to the three days,” he says quietly, nodding his head to the pot of slow boiling bearberries on the fire. “You ate three of them. If…. If you choose to help, to spend the winter with me, then you can drink. You’ll be with me through the entire season—”

“Out in the middle of the tundra, with nothing but a tarp and an evening's supply of food?” You ask, getting to your feet. You take a step away from the fire, nervous energy making you move, and then freeze when you hear a far off voice again. You glance down at Pyre, angry and convinced it must be him, but then you recognize it. The voice, low and soft as it echoes strangely through the fog, is you.

“The voices are possibilities only,” Pyre says, talking over the needy sounding moan. It vanishes, like nothing more than smoke on a fast moving breeze. “And I would take you back to my home, I wouldn’t make you wander out here and sleep on the freezing ground!” Pyre starts to get to his feet and then thinks better of it. He stays where he is, looking up at you, holding out a hand. “If you drink, all I require is companionship. Loneliness lets the ice creep further out, but friendship, or, or anger or passion keeps it at bay. With your help I can bind the overflow of ice in the teeth. But if three days is all you’ll allow, then I’ll find another, I promise. You’ll be free of this, and you’ll forget this ever happened.”

You’re out in the middle of the tundra, wreathed in magical fog and standing before a shifter, a… a spirit? A deity? That keeps winter at bay. You did want magic, didn’t you? You ask yourself. You look down to his open hand, brown palm calloused, nails long and sharp, white fox fur growing longer along his arm.

“No one will even notice I’ve been gone?”

“You’ll be lost in the fog for three days, according to them. What life you’ve missed will feel like a blink, but no. They won’t realize you’ll have been gone for the entire winter.” Pyre’s mouth closes, stubbled throat working as he swallows.

Slowly, you sit back down, picking up the glazed green mug and holding it out for Pyre to fill. “The winter then. If we end up hating one another? You have no one to blame but yourself.”

Pyre doesn’t answer, but he watches like a predator after he fills the mug with bearberry tea, copper eyes caught on your lips. You finish half the cup, and what chill lingered in your bones slowly fades away. Carefully, Pyre takes the cup back and downs the rest, long tongue licking stray droplets off of his lips.

————-　🦊　————-

You travel with Pyre for three days before you reach the banks of the Slavering, only when you do, the tour guides aren’t waiting for you. This is where the Slavering begins, the thick snowmelt coming off of the high mountaintops and rolling down through the craggy rocks to make a river. There’s a cave entrance not far from the rapids, covered over with weeds and just large enough for Pyre to stoop over and fit into. You stop at the entrance, with him close behind you, and stare into the far off dark.

“It’s not like a dungeon in there, is it?”

Pyre grumbles, somewhere between indignation and a laugh. “You always know just what to say. No, it’s not like a dungeon. There’s plenty of modern day amenities inside. I’m a shifter, not a beast.”

Cautiously, still not entirely trusting him, you head inside. It’s dark at first, and earthy smelling, just like a cave, but then Pyre strikes another one of his charmed matches and pulls you to the side so he can lead. There’s a lamp up ahead, the frosted glass globe just big enough for Pyre to reach in and set the match. Heat and light seem to roll through the entire area, a locked, wooden door revealing itself to the side of the lamp. The cave floor, still cold and a bit damp, is actually stones, pieced together into what looks like a strange little map. You frown down at the stones, eyes tracing the edges of a single, deep blue vein, wondering why the chips of pale rock surrounding it strike you as strange.

“The Teeth,” you murmur suddenly. “You have a map of the teeth in front of your door?” Some of the spots are much smaller than others, more like a pinprick of pale stone as opposed to some of the hefty chips. If you unfocus your eyes, the map looks like a reflection of the stars.

“Magic,” Pyre explains, though he doesn’t sound pleased with his own answer. “There’s plenty to talk about when it comes to the Teeth, and the voices, just… Let’s go inside. It’s going to start snowing soon.”

When he opens the door, all the lamps inside are lit. Much like Pyre himself, his decor is frayed and worn down. There are heavy furs on the walls, and tapestries too, both simple and grand, but fragile looking. There are furs on some of the furniture as well. There’s a large stone fireplace, with hooks over the mantle made of horn and a set of stone stairs that curve out of sight. There’s no sign of things like phones or televisions, but you feel like you should have expected that. Companionship through a screen probably didn't fulfill the parameters of his… his curse?

That’s something you decide to ask about later. After all, you have the rest of the winter to spend with him, and he explained plenty over the three day trip to the mountain. The teeth are made of contained winter. The larger the teeth are, the more someone helped Pyre through that season. Through friendship, or anger, or passion, they melted the ice and snow. Pyre would take the melt and bind it in magic-made spires, but he couldn’t build on only one. Each spire was the product of a different person, each fling or friend made or fight had melted the snow at different rates. If your help has already begun, then you know some of the snow must have melted already due to your anger over the past few days, but it’s not something you think you can hold onto. Pyre tricked you into the three days, gave you the bearberries and bid you eat if you were hungry. You’d eaten three of them. The rest of the winter though? That you chose yourself. At least for a while, you’re ready to try and enjoy a little bit of the magic, keeping back winter or no.

“It’s not quite past midday,” Pyre says quietly, voice a strange melding of fox and man. “If you’d like food, I will make it for you. If you’d like a rest, I’ll show you to your room.”

“My room?” You ask, only sounding mildly sarcastic.

Pyre narrows those coppery eyes of his. “Sometimes I think you say these things on purpose. Yes. Your room.” He heads for the staircase, his toenails clicking on the stone floor before he reaches the layers of rugs, the soft padding of his feet on them makes you smile. “I would hardly complain if you decided to join me in mine, but even so, you will have your own space.” He tosses his head, earrings catching in his hair and then vanishes up the stairs.

You move at a much more sedate pace, still examining your surroundings. There’s a very old looking table, covered with the remnants of a puzzle that looks to be from forty years ago at least. There’s a rack of old bottles, some of them look like wine, but others are clearly beer, and still others look like glass bottles of soda, the liquid half evaporated. Pyre’s house is going to be a treasure trove of history, of things left behind by others. The winter is going to be very long, you’re certain, but it won’t be forever. All of the people that left these things behind have obviously left and returned to their homes. You turn on your heel, slip your bag off of your shoulders and leave it at the foot of the stairs. You can come back for it later.

The lamps, all seemingly lit from that single charmed match, spiral up the staircase. There aren’t any doors that open up off the sides, only a hallway at the very top and three open doors leading to the far end. The first one you pass is a bathroom, with a large tub carved out of the stone of the mountain. There are elderly looking cupboards in there, and what looks like a wood burning stove, though it’s empty. The toilet, you assume, is behind the drawscreen, and when you peek your head farther in, there’s also a shining, copper mirror hanging on the wall. The second room is where Pyre is, hands fussing over the thick curtains around the bed. There’s a fireplace against the wall, and a nightstand next to the bed, and more furs draped over a chair made of wood and horn in the corner. There’s a worn desk, obviously hand-made by someone unskilled, but a beautiful bookcase next to it, filled with books in various states of wear. Some of the spines are cracked, but others still are pristine. To the right of the bed, there’s a single paned window. Snow is coating the sill outside, thick flurries weighing down the weeds that are growing in the cracked stone.

Despite the magic, despite the voices and his promise, it still hadn’t felt quite so real, wandering through the tundra with him. He’d said the snow would be coming down soon though.

“It’s lovely,” you answer, honestly, even if not everything is to your taste. It almost makes you want to laugh though, because it definitely looks like it’s somewhere removed from the normal world, some kind of strange mish-mash of time periods all pressed into a two story place. You wonder, without Pyre, would anyone ever find this place?

“Parts of it,” Pyre says, strange looking hands pausing in their tying of the curtains. He’s looking at the headboard, you realize. There’s a faint gouge in the dark wood, but it doesn’t look like it was from Pyre. It looks like a very human scratch. Warmth crawls over the back of your neck, though you’re not sure whether it’s embarrassment or eagerness. You’d been feeling a healthy dose of attraction with Pyre before he told you about everything, and it had taken a bit to sort through your feelings on the matter, even with you making the final choice to come here. You still don’t know how things will continue, but for now…

“Let me see what I can do to help make a few more lovely memories then,” you say suddenly. Heat is pulsing through you now, warming your cheeks and the tips of your ears and zinging down along your spine. Pyre’s head snaps to the side to find your hands working slowly at your clothes. He doesn’t move any further, doesn’t even tip back his head, just stares at you over the crest of his shoulder, pupils swallowing down the copper of his irises.

“If—you don’t have to do anything,” he insists, and his tail swishes, slowly, just the once. It doesn’t bristle out as it had when you’d first spotted him.

Your coat drops to the floor, and his eyes follow it. “I know. We were flirting though, before you told me about all of this, and I still…” You glance away, only for your eyes to snap back to Pyre as he drags his patched suit jacket off of his shoulders.

He slows when he realizes you’re watching, but doesn’t stop. A slow grin pulls at the corners of his wide mouth. “You still want to feel magic?” He taunts, and laughs when you roll your eyes. He stops laughing when the rest of your clothes hit the floor, the hint of a whine escaping him when you take a step closer, shivering when you feel the temperature of the stone on your bare feet. “My room,” Pyre says roughly, though you can’t tear your eyes away from him. He’s still a wonderfully strange mix of man and fox. His face is still humanoid, with lips and stubbled cheeks, and so is the shape of his shoulders through his holey t-shirt. There’s soft curls of hair peeking out of the stretched neck of his shirt, but along the backs of his arms it looks more like fur and his feet are still wholly canine. His tails, tails plural, are starting to grow longer too, and you recall the way he’d seemed to coalesce into one person when the fog had rolled back.

Pyre crosses the room, hesitating before he places his hands on your shoulders, thumbnails scratching gently at your bare skin. The chill of the room had been seeping into you, but at his touch, warmth chases it all away. When you slide your hands up his chest, Pyre’s eyes fall closed, gray lashes bright against his skin. “M’ room,” he repeats again, but pulls you into a kiss as he tows you out the door. There’s no more time for examining the hallway or the knick-knacks he might be keeping in his own space. There’s his lips and his stubble scratching at your skin and his hands splayed over the back of your neck and the base of your spine. He coaxes you into his room with deep, slow kisses that leave your head spinning, whispering things that make your pulse speed. “Want, want the smell of you on my sheets,” he says against your neck, dragging sharp teeth carefully over your throat. He growls when your hands dip to undo his trousers, your thumb following the trail of hair that vanishes beneath his underwear. “If this is, if it’s—”

“I agreed to the winter,” you remind him and then he’s turning you and letting you fall back onto his bed. You have a moment to register soft fur, and crocheted blankets, and comforters too, before Pyre is pulling his shirt off and tossing it across the room. He wrestles with the rest of his clothes, leaving you another moment to admire him. The hair on his chest and trailing down his abdomen looks human, much coarser than the fur on his arms and below his knees. Between his legs is a thick cock, hard and beginning to leak, with a small bulge near the base of him, and then your gaze is drawn back up as he crawls onto the bed, moving much slower than he had in the hall. He doesn’t press, doesn’t rush, just leans his body over yours to kiss you again, careful with his teeth. He groans when you reach up and tug at his braid, pulling the rough tie away and tossing it to the side. You comb your fingers through his hair, tangling your fingers in it to keep him kissing you and tense when his cock slides over your thigh, hot and hard and enough to make you buck up, already seeking friction. Pyre kisses you until you’re breathless, leaving you sucking at your own lips and trying to calm yourself as he urges you further up the bed, back to a veritable nest of pillows.

He isn’t slow when he settles himself between your legs, hands curling around your thighs and pushing them carefully back towards your chest. He isn’t slow when he drags his tongue over you, hot and slick and slightly rough. He’s careful as he can be with his teeth, but there are a few pinches that make you gasp and tremble. He laves his tongue over them, soothing the sting, but his nails are pressing hard into your skin and you’re fairly certain you’re going to bruise, simply from the continued pressure. Pyre is noisy too, whining and groaning as he tastes you, as you do your best to rock yourself against his tongue, hand tugging at his hair while he sucks and eats. The ache of orgasm, painful-but-sweet, is starting to build, starting to make you tense everytime he opens his jaw, teeth dragging over tender skin, leaving you wet and shuddering. He huffs when you whimper, and pulls away before you can come, copper eyes as bright as flame when he moves to sit back against his headboard. The loss of him feels sudden, and the cold is sharp without his warmth against you.

“That was on purpose,” you murmur. Pyre arches a brow, trying to keep from smiling when you scowl at his crooking finger. You still get up, on shaking knees and gasp when he tugs you over and onto his lap, your back against his chest, cock slick and sticky against your ass.

“I want to feel everything when you shake apart,” he murmurs, hand splaying over your sternum as he helps you arrange your legs. By the time you’re straddling his thighs, his fingertips are dipping into the hollow of your throat and his cock is rutting against your thigh and every part of you is on edge, desperate for more. You’d been so close. Pyre licks at the side of your throat, pressing his hand harder against your chest to keep your back still. “Lift your hips,” he urges, and takes his cock in hand, dragging the head over you as you do your best to listen. Like fitting a key into a lock, Pyre finds the correct angle, breathing raggedly as you press yourself down. As soon as you’ve taken enough of him, he lets go of himself and then presses on the top of your thighs, making you gasp out his name as you take him in deeper. He eases off after a moment, letting you adjust, letting you wriggle and groans out your name roughly as you do your best to ride him.

You think for a moment about saying something, about teasing him or trying to rile him up, but it’s all you can do to keep up what rhythm you have, heart beating terribly fast against the hand he has on your chest. He lets you move, lets you reach back and clutch at the messy locks of his hair, his breath warm against your throat and the top of your shoulder and then Pyre pushes roughly against your thigh again, thrusting up until his knot is grinding against you. “Fuck, fuck, Pyre, that—”

“Too much?” He asks, waiting while you shake, trying to steady your breath. You’re probably going to ache later, probably won’t want to do much but doze or take a bath in that massive stone tub, but right now? Right now you want to be greedy.

“More,” you get out and Pyre laughs, that eerie, fox-like noise echoing in your ear as he teases you with the knot, pressing you down and then pulling back his hips. Pillows cascade off the edges of the bed, spilling over the floor. You start squeezing, doing your best to drive him over the edge, so sensitive it almost hurts. “Please,” you whisper and then you’re too busy for speech. His knot stretches you and his hand dips between your thighs, stroking and his fingers press into the base of your throat. He’s not choking you, but he’s starting to squeeze and then you’re coming. Pleasure washes over you in a fierce, pulsing ache that shoots down to your toes and fountains back up your body. You shout out his name and shake in his arms, eyes falling closed as his knot expands, locking you in place. Your eyes flutter open and closed and drift to a steamed up window, much like the one in your own room. Weeds are still poking up through the cracks, but now it’s not snowing outside, it’s raining.

Pyre turns his nose to the space behind your ear, breathing deep, his own limbs growing loose. “The winter might well be softer this year,” Pyre mumbles, voice raspy, his hand smoothing down your sternum and over your hips. “And I have you to thank for that.”

“We still have the rest of the winter ahead of us,” you remind him, but you’re too sleepy to argue with him any further. Whether you end up enjoying the rest of your time here, you do know one thing: Passion will definitely be a huge part of fulfilling your bargain for the winter.

————-　🦊　————-

[sunnysunoo]

Love Letters ; Sim Jake

Pairing: Jake X Reader

warnings: explicit language and cursing

word count: 3k words

genre: friends to lovers au! fluff with tiny pieces of crack lmao

Jake was always known for being this perfect guy in school. I mean, they're not wrong. They always described him as if he's this walking piece of art in the hallways. People would stop to just stare at him. You'd stare at him all day too, but you set priorities first: writing him love letters.

You're no Lara Jean, but I guess you can say that she's what inspired you to write Jake letters. Who needs Peter Kavinsky when Jake Shim exists anyways?

note: Not me completely disappearing off of tumblr for like months and then showing up again suddenly lol. I got really busy the past few months since I was completing requirements for school, and I really didn't have the motivation to do anything at the time so I took so time off to take care of myself first so I hope you understand :) But now since it's summer break, I am given at least 2 more months until I go back to school in August :)) Here's the long-awaited Jake imagine that I completely forgot about lmao hope you enjoy <3

P.S I finished writing this at 1:26 am so please excuse the really shitty plot and grammar ill rewrite it once i wake up

tag list: @cha-raena ( sorry for the rlly late post bestie )

Dear Jake, First of all, I will never call you Jaeyun because calling you by your English name makes me feel like I'm your friend. Calling you by your Korean name makes us feel like we're cold strangers to one another and I don't want that. I want us to be something more than that, but it's hard when you don't even know who I am. I'm surprised how you don't grow tired of me just dropping letters right into your locker every time you open it, and that's one of the things I love about you. You don't just throw away people's efforts and you treasure them with care. It makes my heart beat so fast as if I ran miles away from here.

We're already one year left until we graduate high school, and I don't want to end my high school years without you realizing my feelings for you. I know for sure that you would never reciprocate the feelings that I have towards you, so I want to treat this as closure in case we do forget about each other in the future. Yours truly,

Moon

__

"How is this person not over you? That's like the tenth one this month," Jay said, looking over Jake as he reads the letter from his secret admirer. Jake has always been receiving these letters from the same person everyday for the past four months. He's thankful for the letters because they definitely make his day better, knowing that there's someone out there who loves him as who he is regardless of looks. He's not gonna lie that these little notes and letters make his heart race too. "Do you have any plans with finding the person behind the letters?" Jay asked as he watches his best friend trying to hide the small smile that's been growing. No one really knows who this mysterious person is and why they decided to name themselves the moon, but we don't judge anyone in here. If they want to be the moon in their next life, then so be it. "I really want to find the person who's making these letters," Jake shoved the letter in his backpack, trying to not wrinkle it. "But I don't know where to start." "Who's finding who?" A voice popped suddenly beside the presence of the two boys. You leaned beside the locker beside Jake's, watching him as he grabs his books from his locker. "Did Moon drop your daily letter today again?" "They did as usual," Jake wasn't even surprised. He would expect the letters every time he enters the school in the morning. He would open his locker to see the usual small letter placed inside his locker. He usually arrives at seven or earlier, but he's surprised that he could never even catch a glance of this anonymous sender around the campus. "Should I go to school at five in the morning?" "Five in the morning? Isn't that a bit too early?" You questioned, followed by a shaky breath. "The school doesn't even open until six." "I could just walk to that nearby convenience store I always pass by to grab a coffee." He argues, closing his locker shut before walking towards his classroom.

You and Jay followed beside him, and you sneered under your breath, "You don't even wake up to your alarm clock."

"Why don't you even want me to go early anyway?" He glances as you try to give him an answer. But before you could say something, Jay replies first.

"You’re probably hiding something." He said. You rolled your eyes and narrowed your eyes at him. "You are so weird." You grunted, before walking ahead of them. You feel panicked because you were scared that you made yourself obvious to them.

__

You were inside your classroom sitting on your desk. There were only fifteen minutes left before lunch, but you had eaten your packed meal before instead of going to your school cafeteria. You were fidgeting in your place, conflicted about Jake finding his secret admirer, not knowing that it was you who's been sending him letters the past few months. You're not scared of him finding out that the letters were from you; that was the entire reason why you wrote him letters in the first place. You're scared of how he was gonna confront you about it. Would he like you back? Would he hate you? Would he avoid you?

Your mind was full of scenarios but you were suddenly brought back to reality when a hand planted itself on your desk. You look up and saw Jay standing in front of you, eating sushi with his other hand. His face kinda looks like he knows something, and it's freaking you out a bit.

"What?" You asked, suddenly flustered over how his eyes stared right into you. He took the seat in front of your desk and flipped it so it was facing you. He sat down and blurted the phrase that you were dreading to hear from anyone.

"So, you like Jake?"

You suddenly feel like punching him in the face with his sushi.

"What??" Your body felt like, and you were left a nervous mess. Your heart like it was going to pump right out of your chest any minute, and your hands started to sweat.

Jay's mouth formed into a smirk. He caught you. "Jake may be a bit oblivious, but I can totally see right through you."

“Haha...no you don’t,” You tried to deny, but it was all useless when his expression looked unconvinced.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you all red? You look like a bursting tomato.”

“You don’t know that," You leaned further into your seat, playing with the strings of your hoodie.

“C’mon Y/N, you’re not even trying. Just give up and admit it,” Jay was trying to help you confess your feelings for Jake. Frankly, he knew it was you sending him letters this whole time—how can Jake not see it?

With a heavy sigh, you slumped and laid your head on your desk, embarrassed. “Fine. I like him, okay? Are you happy now?”

The smirk on his face grew wider, feeling proud of himself. You are not dealing with his annoying crap this early in the morning. He grinned and munched on his half-eaten sushi. “I knew it.”

“Congratulations,” It was muffled because you hid your red face away from him. All that was on your mind now was how you could book yourself a flight all the way across the world.

“But seriously, since when did you have a crush on him?” You raised your head to face him, giving him a look that could kill, except Jay finds it entertaining rather than intimidating.

“I started having a crush on him when we were in fifth grade. It was at a friend's birthday party, and he saw me being all quiet and lonely. Honestly, I forgot who’s birthday that was.” You told him the very first time you had discovered feelings.

“He saw how sad I looked so he accompanied me the whole time. He was even trying to feel more included in the games and stuff.” You felt a smile ghosting on your lips as you can still vividly remember how you felt your heart tug the first time. “It was kinda like I fell in love at first sight.”

Jay faked a gag, so you lightly punched him in the shoulder. He may be a bit of an asshole, but he’s one the most caring and kind people you’ve ever met. It honestly felt good spilling out your feelings about Jake to him.

Speaking of, Jake was watching you two play around and laugh at Jay's little jokes from outside, and he felt something burning from inside him. Was it that he felt jealous of you and Jay?

No, he can’t be...right?

Maybe it was because of how he felt separated from you and Jay because of him being a separate class.

Yeah, maybe it's because of that.

__

Dear Jake,

I just had the most bizarre day today, and I felt like telling you about it.

It was chemistry period, and we had to be partnered with someone for a lab project. I ended up getting paired with Yeojin. We kinda created this unexpected friendship, which I love. We would crack jokes at each other, tell funny stories, it was so fun to be with her that we had completely forgotten about our project. So now, we both got a detention slip for making an accidental explosion.

How about you? How was your day? I hope it was just as fun as mine. If you feel like the day just wasn't as happy or you're feeling down, just now that it's okay to feel that way because days like these just lasts for 24 hours. It will be all over before you know it and you'll be greeted by another day. Maybe it will be different, and you would be all happy again just like how my day went. Maybe being with you would be my happiest day yet, and I couldn't wait for that day to come. See you soon :)

Love,

Moon

__

"Yeojin!" Jake called, seeing her walk down the opposite way. "Hey, mind if I ask you something?"

"Hey Jake," She greeted him with a smile. "Sure, go ahead."

"Could you perhaps give me any information about your partner in Chemistry?" He had hopes of getting any kind of description about his mysterious sender, but he was instead given a sad frown on Yeojin's face.

"Sorry Jake, but that person told me not to tell you about their information." She gave an apologetic smile. "I wish you all the best in finding them!"

Jake muttered a small "okay," and sighed before walking away, feeling defeated.

Yeojin knew that he was gonna ask about Moon the moment he called her from across the hall. She couldn't wait to tell you about this.

__

"Hey Y/N," A voice said from behind. You turned around to see Jake with his backup hung on his shoulder. He brought his hand up and raked his hair, and you felt your face grow red. Jake is like a gift from the gods. How can someone look so ethereal even if they're just standing there? You could stare at him all day. You couldn't even understand a thing he said until he started waving his hands in front of you.

"Hello?" You blinked multiple times as you were brought back out to reality. You saw Jake's face grow into concern. "Are you okay? spaced out."

"O-oh..No, I'm completely fine." You reassured him, feeling embarrassed. "What were you saying again?"

"I was asking you if you wanted to go to school with me early tomorrow."

Well, shit.

Your eyes started to go wide, and your hands started to go clammy.

"Tomorrow?" You repeated, voice trembling.

'Well, yeah." He pouted his lips, and you felt like melting into a small puddle in your place. Your heart started to pound heavily.

Oh my fucking god, he is so adorable.

"Okay, sure I can go with you tomorrow," You weakly smiled at him, slightly tense.

How we're you going to give him the letter now?

__

"Good Morning," Jake said as he watches you close the gates of your house. It was past five in the morning, and you were a mess.

"Morning," You replied back before running your fingers through your hair, getting rid of any flyaways.

As you started walking your way to the bus stop, Jake kept on glancing towards you from time to time. He knew you were pretty, but since when did you become really beautiful in his eyes?

The walk was pretty quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. For him, mostly.

Meanwhile, you couldn't stop freaking out. You had written a letter the night before, but you don't know how you were going to slip it into his locker without him taking notice. If he saw you, he would know.

"Are you sure you're okay? You've been like this since yesterday," Jake blurted. You looked at him before heaving a sigh.

"It's nothing," You mouthed, suddenly feeling anxious and gloomy.

"Something on your mind?"

"Something like that." It was hopeless. I guess he would have to miss this letter today. It was the first time you skipped a day, and you're feeling guilty that you would have to see Jake's face sadden that he wouldn't receive it today.

As you two stop at the bus stop, Jake looked slightly panicked as he was rummaging through the pockets of his blazer before looking through his bag. "Hey, do you have an extra pen? I left mine at home and I have a quiz today."

You snickered, "Out of all the days, Sim Jake. The same day you have a quiz is the same day you forget your pen."

"Very funny." He scoffed.

As you unzipped your bag to grab your pencil case, a folded piece of paper fell out without you realizing it. When Jake went to pick it up, he notices that it was folded the same way as the letters in his locker. It looked so identical.

Once you already got your pencil case out, you were about to hand it to him when you saw what he was holding that made your body freeze with your hand holding the case in the air.

"Why were one of my letters inside your bag?" He glanced at you, waiting for you to reply.

If you were freaking out before, this is a whole other thing. The thing that you were fearing the most is happening right before you.

"Maybe it fell into my bag yesterday..." You stammered, making up an excuse to look like it was an accident. You were tightly holding onto your pencil case, chanting many curse words in your head as you watch Jake unfold the letter.

"I don't think I've received this one yet," He said before he opened the letter and read it.

You watch as his expression formed into confusion as he reads through the paper. It only took a few moments before something in him clicked that it was you sending him the letters.

"Y/N," He began, and you started quivering in fear.

You should've known this would happen, but you didn't expect it to happen this sooner. In fact, you believed that this wouldn't happen at all. But it did.

"Let me explain," You eventually gave up and accepted fate and watch as your identity as "Moon" be revealed to your crush. You're now exposed so you didn't have any other choice but to explain everything. "Yes, I am Moon. I was the one writing you the letters that you've been getting in your locker."

Jake's face was unreadable. He looked bewildered and puzzled. He was trying to comprehend what was happening right now. All this time, it was you?

"I started crushing on you when we attended that birthday party before. I didn't want to confess my feelings for you because I was scared that you were going to harshly reject me, so I started writing down letters as a way to tell you how I feel about you without making you feel awkward around me." You continued, eyes suddenly taking an interest in your shoes. They were brand new too.

Jake was silent, and you felt your heart crack into pieces. You were mad at yourself for being so careless about it that he ended up finding out about you as his secret admirer. You wanted nothing else but to run back home, lock yourself in your room and cry with your sad playlist on loop.

You were expecting a harsh rejection coming from him, but what surprised was how he took dangerous steps towards you, minimizing the gap between you two. He placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

"I don't plan on rejecting you Y/N," You stare into his eyes as it reflects the sunlight of the early morning. "I'm actually happy that it was you."

You look at him, puzzled. He lowly chuckles under his breath before leaning over to place his lips against yours. It was a light, quick kiss, but it brought you feeling ecstatic. You've dreamed of this moment before, and now that it happened, you thanked your clumsiness.

As he pulled away, you were sure your face was a red mess.

"Thank you," His smile was as bright as the stars in the sky. It was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "Thank you for making me like I'm special to someone."

You felt flustered over his words. You were scared that he could hear the sound of your heart pounding loudly. The butterflies in your stomach were going wild, and you felt like this was all a dream.

"So, what am I to you now?" You broke into a smile as he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

Jake acted as if he was thinking, "Hm..maybe my best friend still?"

He bursts into a fit of giggles as he sees your smile slowly disappear, replacing it with a look of disbelief. You removed your hand from his and walked at a faster pace away from him.

He ran to match your pace beside you before holding your hand again, "I'm sorry, I won't ever do that again. Is my girl mad at me?"

"Oh my god, it's only five-fifty, Jake." You too broke into laughter over his cheesiness, but your heart fluttered over the thought of Jake calling you his.

__

HERE’S A LITTLE BONUS! since I've made you guys wait for 4 months :(

"What the fuck?" Was the first thing You heard from Jay as you and Jake entered the classroom. All of your classmates were staring at your and his hands intertwined together.

Jay stood in front of you two, crossing his arms together. "Can one of you explain when this happened?" he motioned towards your linking hands. You and Jake smiled at each other before walking away, leaving Jay in a fit of joy, and confusion.

[alicanta77]

Boys Like This

Pairing: y/n x Haechan

Themes: fluff, angst, badboy au

Warnings: swearing, mentions of smoking, mentions of sex, sexual harassment (one drunk guy gets a bit too close)

Words: 18.8k - this was meant to be like 3k max someone save me

Tag list: @honei-n (happy birthday bubs!! ilysm and i’m sorry i’m not there to give you the biggest hug but have this instead) @lebrookestore @ch3nj1​ @ridinhyuck​ @cacaubs​ @cheonsa1004 @tyongf-sunflower99​

——————————————————————————

If you’re looking for the personification of the bad boy stereotype, look no further than Lee Donghyuck. His legs were clad in ripped black jeans and on his shoulders always lay his signature black leather jacket. His usually bruised knuckles were adorned with silver rings and the cigarette that hung from his lips all made him look like the typical bad boy out of a cheesy 90s romance film.

As infuriating as the smirk that was constantly plastered on his lips was, and the way he insisted everybody called him ‘Haechan’ instead of Donghyuck, you couldn’t deny that something about him pricked your interest.

Maybe it was something to do with how self assured he was, the confidence he radiated in simply being himself and being in his own skin that made people almost resent him for it. Or maybe it was something to do with how he reminded you of every boy that your mother would warn you about when you were growing up, being told to steer clear of the boys in black, they would be the ones to break your heart.  Maybe it was the fact that as soon as anybody new arrives in the area, they’re immediately told to ‘Avoid Haechan, he’s bad news.’ And you weren’t the exception to the rule.

There’s just one problem, you never do what you’re told.

So when you were told to stay away from Haechan, you simply rolled your eyes and kept walking, you weren’t afraid of some bad boy. You’d moved around your entire life, your father’s job meaning you had to be prepared to pack up and travel wherever he needed you to, and, throughout your time you had heard of and come across every kind of character that there was in a high school. A few groups in particular always stuck out to you.

The jocks. Probably the most famous group and likely the first group that comes to anyone’s mind when you talk about high school. Jocks are an elite crowd, often very popular and normally find themselves very important. For them, high school tends to be the best time of their lives, sadly finding that this popularity and fear doesn’t translate to the workplace. Jocks are a large group as well, in fact, they often have so many members that they divide into sub-categories, usually by sport. You have the baseball team, the football team, the soccer team etc. and then these are ordered into a hierarchy apparently based on the importance that each team has to the school when in reality it’s down to how attractive/popular the team captain is.

Splitting off nicely from the jocks come the cheerleaders. Originally part of the same pack but grew in popularity when they adopted mean girls cliché. Therefore, in order to gain more power and dominate the school, they became a separate breed. The Head Cheerleader was guaranteed to be just as popular as she was bitchy, a stereotype that you were fed up of. What if they were actually nice people and felt as though they had to be rude cause that was what the “role” of Head Cheerleader asked of them? What kind of a place would that be? Anyway, getting back to the point, the best thing to do with this group, would be to avoid them entirely.

Then, usually the polar opposite in terms of popularity, come the nerds/geeks. You had never really been sure why this particular group was always picked on. You always thought that being smart and doing well in life was something to brag about, but then, maybe you just had weird opinions. They formed a cluster and stuck with it, whilst also managing to keep themselves to themselves. They sat at the same seats in class, the same table at lunch and never argued back. Despite their deathly awkwardness and shy behaviour, they were usually pretty good people. You just had to be willing to put in the effort to break through their shell.

Next come the artsy kids. This group can, once again, split into sub categories based on Theatre, Art, Dance and Music but that depends on the size of the school. Normally they just come under the umbrella term of the artsy kids. Very easy to pick on but are normally left alone. They’re pretty chill and mostly mind their own business, despite often being slightly obnoxious about the art that they specialise in. You swore that if one person asked you to go and see their one woman show you might punch them. You’re a broke student, why would you pay to put yourself through two hours of pretentious speech? Yeah, the artsy kids weren’t quite your scene.

Honourable mentions go to the stoners, the class clowns, the hipsters, the ‘I was born in the wrong generation’, the gamers and the punks. But there was only one group left worth mentioning.

Finally, the last stereotypical school clique would be the troublemakers, otherwise known as the bad boys and bad girls The commonalities between the two groups tend to include things like, black ripped clothing, silver jewellery, sassy attitudes and bad decisions. They never stray from their crowd, finding other groups too boring and stuck up for their taste. The cheerleaders and jocks attempt to pick on them, but it rarely works out in their favour. Instead of leaving victorious while dropping the mic, they often find themselves running back to their respective groups with their tail in between their legs. They like to either find relationships with their own kind, or play around with various people until they’re bored. Things are never too serious for this group.

So as soon as you arrived, you knew you’d need to find somewhere to fit in. You didn’t really conform to one of the many cliche groups that roamed this new school. You instead thought that people were a mixture of all of them, and shouldn’t be defined by a single personality trait, but that often wasn’t the most popular opinion. In fact, that opinion is why you often found yourself alone, wandering the halls by yourself. Sometimes people pitied you (usually the hipsters or artsy kids who tried to make you “find your passion”) but, to be honest, you didn’t mind it.

Being by yourself meant that you didn’t owe anything to anyone, and it meant that you could turn the school upside down and disappear without regretting a thing. After all, that’s how you left your last three schools.

---

You walked through the doors on your first day, to empty folders tucked under your arm as you walked towards the Principle’s office. You had barely made it five steps before some guys in a football jersey stopped you. He moved in front of you, buffing himself up in an attempt to look more impressive. You refused to speak first, instead just raising your eyebrows judgmentally.

‘So what should I call you?’ He purred, looking at you through hooded eyes.

‘You shouldn’t.’ You cut back, already tired of his attempt at flirting. You knew you had “new kid” written all over you and this wasn’t a genuine attempt, but most like rather a “welcome to the school fresher” and you weren’t here for it.

‘Trouble it is.’ The guy flirted, sending you a cheesy wink to which you could only respond with a groan and an eye roll.

‘God could you get anymore cliche? You may want to be a bit more inventive if you wanna impress me.’ With a quick tilt of your head, you turned and stalked past him to the other end of the hall, leaving the poor jock with his mouth hanging slightly open at your reply.

You felt a bit bad turning him down so intensely like that, but you also knew that if you didn’t make a strong first impression, you would be like fresh meat to them. And you didn’t want to go through that again.

---

After meeting the Principle, getting his painfully rehearsed welcome speech, then dealing with the three students who called themselves the “Welcome Committee”, you briefly stopped off at your locker to grab the text book that had been left there for you and place your empty folders there. You wouldn’t need them until your classes anyway. You picked up the textbook and grabbed a pad of paper that was conveniently left there for you as well and headed towards your Maths class.

You walked through the door, sighing in defeat as you saw you were one of the last ones to arrive. This meant that all eyes were on you and the teacher stood up and introduced you as the new student.

‘So y/n why don’t you tell the class a little bit about yourself?’ The teacher gave you a wide smile, one that you were sure was meant to reassure you but it honestly just creeped you out slightly.

‘Uhhh, sure. My name’s y/n and I moved here about a month ago.’ You sent the class a quick nod before attempting to move off to head off an empty seat at the back.

‘Ahhh come now y/n, I’m sure there’s more that you can tell us.’ The teacher stopped you in your tracks, as you let out a breath of annoyance.

‘Ok. I’ve never lived anywhere longer than a year, I like coffee and I’m done with this now.’ You quickly moved away before the teacher could stand up and make you continue. You slouched in your seat, crossing your arms and letting out another sigh of frustration.

You had just opened your books and prepared to start listening when the door swung open again. All the heads in the class, including yours, looked to see who would be walking in so late. A boy appeared, his honey skin glowing slightly in the morning sun that reflected off his leather jacket and silver jewellery. He probably couldn’t get more cliche, but he also couldn’t get more beautiful.

‘Haechan, you’re late.’ Your teacher snapped and you looked back at the boy walking through the seats. 

So this was Haechan, this was who you had been warned about earlier. You remembered the annoyingly cheery welcome that this group of three had given you, yet this preppy ginger was the only one who spoke. You were sure she was a really lovely person, she was just way too excited about the first day of school to not be annoying. Anyway, she’d told you about the groups at school and made a point to mention this “Haechan”. Her exact words being:

‘Let me save you the trouble, Haechan is the last person you want to get involved with here, in any way. He puts himself as number one and nothing and no one is going to change that. It’s in your best interests to stay away from him.’

And yet, despite your absolutely minimal effort to avoid him, this Haechan was standing at the front of your class, and you couldn’t lie, you were already intrigued.

‘Yeah I’m aware.’ Haechan retaliated, his bored voice bringing you out of your memories and back to reality.

‘Do you feel like apologising?’ The teacher asked, a very forced smile on his face. Haechan turned back towards him, breathing in as if he was thinking before responding with a smile.

‘Not really, no.’ He then turned away and walked towards the back of the classroom. He approached where you were sitting, examined you quickly causing you to frown at his behaviour, before he pulled out the chair next to yours and collapsed into it.

He slouched back into his seat, crossing his arms and staring mindlessly at the front of the class, where the teacher was still sending him the stink eye.

‘Haechan, did you bring your books?’ The teacher asked with the kind of tone that told you he probably already knew the answer.

‘Nope!’ The boy replied, popping the ‘p’ and causing the teacher to obviously roll his eyes.

‘Well, maybe our new student, y/n, would be nice enough to share with you for today?’

It took everything in you not to roll your eyes at his statement. But you still shifted your textbook in between the two of you so that he could see it. Haechan sat up in his chair slightly in surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting you to actually do it.

‘Thank you y/n. Now let’s begin-’ The teacher turned back to the board and began the lesson.

After only about five minutes you realised that you had done this entire topic in your previous school. It had been necessary for you to pass the entrance exam here, so you knew all of this already. You huffed once again in frustration, dropping your pen and leaning back in your chair as you began to pick at your nails. Why would they bother to ask you to know something that they’re just going to teach you as soon as you got here?

You could see Haechan notice and begin to subtly watch your behaviour so you leant forwards to whisper to him.

‘Is there something interesting about me?’

‘That’s exactly what I’m trying to figure out.’ Haechan replied, his voice just as soft as yours was and yet you couldn’t resist the shivers that it sent down your spine.

“Well let me know if you find anything?’ You spoke softly, turning away from him to look at the ceiling as he did the same.

‘Haven’t you been told to stay away from me?’ He asked you, not even bothering to look back towards you.

‘Oh yeah, I got that speech. The welcoming committee was quite informative about you and your personality.’ Now that got his attention. His head turned, as he looked at you out of the corner of his eye, examining your features carefully.

‘So...’ He spoke, dragging out the word as he looked at you.

‘So?’ You asked, not sure what he was getting at.

‘Why aren’t you doing as you were told?’ He questioned, leaving you to turn back to him with an amused look on your face.

‘What makes you think I wanna do what they tell me to? They look as though they have the personality of milk.’ You groaned, remembering the fake happiness that radiated off them.

Haechan couldn’t help the chuckle that came up in his throat, unable to believe just how accurate your words were. Nobody in that school would quite be able to admit that that girl wasn’t drop dead boring.

‘Well, you’re a little firecracker aren’t you?’ He smirked at you, causing you to simply raise an eyebrow in reply. ‘I think you’re gonna fit right in with us.’

‘Who says I want to?’ You smirked back, now enjoying the interaction you were having.

‘Do you want to?’ He leant in closer and you could smell the mint of his breath.

‘We’ll see. Don’t want to give away all my secrets so quickly.’ You pulled back, leaving Haechan awkwardly leaning over half of your desk just as the teacher turned back around.

‘Haechan! Not only are you not paying attention but you’re distracting y/n as well. If you’re not going to pay attention you can wait outside until you’re prepared to take this class seriously.’ He snapped, and Haechan turned to you with a surprised look on his face, not expecting you to have set him up like that. He nodded, unable to keep the small smile from his lips and stood, walking swiftly out of the door at the front.

He leaned back in for one second, just to cheekily wave at the teacher who looked as though he was about to explode and it took everything in you to stop yourself from laughing.

A couple more minutes passed before you were bored beyond belief. You were starting to think that getting your only source of entertainment, Haechan, kicked out of class wasn’t the smartest idea you’d ever had. You were halfway through counting the black marks on the ceiling when you heard a very quiet tapping from behind you, You turned around in your chair to see Haechan standing by the floor length window at the back of the classroom. He was on the outside looking in and quickly gestured for you to follow him.

He cracked the window open slightly and leant in, getting just close enough to you to whisper:

‘I’ve played your game, now it’s my turn. Your move y/n, are you gonna live up to your attitude or are you all talk?’

With that he moved away from the window, hiding behind the wall as the teacher turned around again. You didn’t want to get caught sneaking out on your first day, but you also couldn’t stand the idea of letting Haechan win. Somehow the boy was an addictive kind of annoying, no matter how infuriated or annoyed you had gotten, you already wanted more.

You waited for the teacher to turn around and quickly piled up your books, placing them on the shelf under your desk. This was your only class of the day and you were in here the next morning so you weren’t too fussed about leaving them behind.

You began to get up but your eyes suddenly caught sight of blue haired guy sitting a couple of rows ahead of you watching you. He raised his eyebrows in question, as if asking if you were going to go, to which you shrugged and he shrugged himself before turning back around.

You waited until the girl at the front had finished asking her question and, when the teacher turned back to the front to go through the example on the board again, you made your move. You quickly pushed your chair back, relieved when it didn’t make a sound and climbed out of the window. You pulled it gently shut behind you and turned to left, finding yourself face to face with Haechan.

‘Wow, for a minute then I didn’t think you’d have the balls.’ He grinned at you, pulling you out of sight of the class as you began to walk away.

‘Well as you can clearly see, I do. So what now?’ You replied, unable to stop yourself from grinning back.

‘Now we have some fun.’ Haechan said, the smile he sent you this time was the opposite of innocent and it made your heart pump.

This was someone you would enjoy causing trouble with.

---

The two of you decided that leaving the school and skiving on the first day was a bit too cliche and unoriginal, so instead you came up with the idea that, no matter what you guys did, it had to be on school grounds.

‘Interesting...’ Haechan mused, the smirk that you were already familiar with gracing his delicate features. ‘So we cause as much chaos as we like, and do what we like, but there’s a much higher risk of getting caught...’

‘Exactly.’ You clarified. ‘But we can leave for lunch though! I want McDonalds.’ You quickly added, Haechan laughing slightly at your expression.

‘Agreed. So we’ll have our fun here, then head to McDonalds for lunch. Tell you what, why don’t we leave a little earlier than the lunch break so that we avoid bumping into the rest of the students?’ Haechan watched as you nodded in agreement.

You allowed your gaze to drift around the unfamiliar halls until your eyes came to rest on the smoke detector on the wall. Suddenly an idea popped into your head. It was stupid, reckless and if you got caught you would be in serious trouble. Sounds ideal.

‘Hey Haechan?’ You began, turning towards him with a grin on your face.

‘Yeah?’ He answered, a grin appearing on his own. He didn’t know what you were planning but he knew it would be interesting.

‘Have you ever set off the fire alarm?’ You asked, raising an eyebrow as his furrowed in thought.

‘Like falsely pulled it? Yeah.’ He admitted, nodding like it was no big deal, but you shook your head.

‘No, not falsely pulled, actually set it off.’ You watched as his jaw dropped slightly and he shook his head. 'Yeah, neither.’ You told him, before looking away. He followed your gaze to see the smoke detector on the wall.

You both turned back to each other.

‘Well...’ Haechan began, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. ‘There’s a first time for everything.’

---

The alarm blared through the school as you and Hyuck laughed to yourself as the school emptied.

‘No talking!’ A teacher behind you barked, causing the two of you to roll your eyes in sync. Why you had to walk silently during a fire alarm you would never know. If the school was actually on fire you would be sprinting out of it swearing at the top of your lungs, not walking silently in an orderly fashion.

The two of you had had to find a way to set off the alarm, so you put your heads together. Neither of you had managed to come up with anything that wouldn’t get you caught, and you were about to give up when you noticed the cigarettes in Haechan’s pocket. Now that gave you an idea.

You had lit the cigarette and, with Haechan supporting you from beneath as you sat on his shoulders, managed to stuff it inside the fire alarm. You gently blowed on it, to make sure it was lit and there was smoke coming off it and suddenly the alarm blared throughout the school. You then proceeded to slip off his shoulders, him catching you easily in his arms and you both quickly moved into your respective bathrooms.

You stood by the door and counted to five before opening the bathroom door and leaving again. You’d noticed the men’s bathroom door next to you open and Haechan walked out. The two of you blended seamlessly into the crowd of students as they made their way out to the assembly point.

You had decided to hide in the bathroom for a couple of seconds so that neither of you were spotted underneath the fire alarm. You thought that if they noticed the bad boy and the new girl under the fire alarm that ended up having a cigarette stuck in it, the game would be over before it had even properly begun.

Students poured out of the doors of the school, lining up cleanly and efficiently on the sports pitches. You were standing in sections, divided by years and then each class split into lines. You faced your teacher at the front as they called out student’s names from the register.

‘Here.’ You spoke out as you heard your name, a similar call coming from your partner in crime behind you as his name was called. You turned around to face him. ‘Lee Donghyuck?’ You raised a teasing eyebrow.

‘Yep, that’s my real name.’ He replied, looking down at you.

‘So, can I ask then, why Haechan? Donghyuck’s a nice name.’ You wondered, tilting your head out of curiosity. 

Haechan opened his mouth to answer but before he could, a boy who you recognised from your Maths class came up to the two of you.

‘Already corrupting the new kid Hyuck?’ He joked, a large smile on his face. 

‘Trust me man, she barely needs corrupting.’ Haechan replied, laughing at his friend. ‘Y/n, this is Jaemin, he’s one of my closest friends.’

Jaemin flashed you a smile that you swore almost blinded you. You shook his outstretched hand and returned his smile with one of your own.

‘I’ve gotta say, I was impressed to see you follow him out of that window y/n. It looks like you’ve got some guts.’ Jaemin spoke, his face showing how he was clearly surprised. ‘And I’m guessing from what happened in Maths that this fire alarm may have something to do with the two of you?’

You and Haechan shared a grin and that small action told Jaemin all he needed to know. Jaemin laughed in disbelief, muttering something about how exciting the rest of the year was going to be if this was how you were acting on the first day. You couldn’t quite hear him though, your attention focused on the way that Haechan studied the features on your face, with such intensity you would think he was never going to see them again.

You spent the time making conversation with Jaemin and Haechan, getting to know the two boys, but your attention was drawn away from them when a fire engine made its way into the school gates. All the conversation surrounding you dwindled to a stop as one student asked what was going on.

‘Since there was no fire drill scheduled for today, we needed to call the fire department to determine what caused the alarm to go off.’ Your teacher explained.

The three of you looked at each other in disbelief, all of you unable to stop yourselves from giggling at the chaos you’d caused. You couldn’t help but think that Jaemin had been right. If this was day one, who knew what adventures this year would bring you? You’d never liked a place so quickly like you had here. Maybe for the first time in your life, you’d found somewhere you could actually see yourself staying.

You didn’t want to let yourself get your hopes up though. You had only been in this city a short while, and your father’s job would always mean that you had to move by this time next year. You couldn’t afford to get comfortable.

The boys watched as the firefighters entered the building, attempting to determine what caused the alarm to go off. It didn’t take long before they emerged with one of them holding a small plastic bag. A bad that you assumed that had the cigarette in. The teachers came into a small circle to have a short conversation before turning back to the waiting students.

The Principle suddenly stepped forward, immediately commanding attention from every student present as he began to speak.

‘This fire alarm was no drill. Nor was it an accident. We have evidence that it was set off on purpose and I seriously suggest that anyone who knows anything about how this happens steps forward. Do not make this any worse for you than it already is.’

With that, he turned, and made his way back into the school. An uneasy silence lay over all the students. You teacher walked back over to your group and spoke to the rest of you there.

‘Since it’s so close to lunch, we’ve decided to let you go early. But-’ They raised their voice as everyone began to move off. ‘This incident will not be taken lightly. To anybody who may have been involved, it is in your best interest to own up to it.’

You noticed their eyes were fixated on Haechan, and how they narrowed slightly. They seemed to fully believe that Haechan was involved with setting off the alarm.

‘They always assume it’s me. Whenever anything happens.’ He whispered into your ear and you nodded in understanding. ‘So... McDonalds?’

---

Haechan pulled back into the school grounds after your trip for lunch, Jaemin jumped out of the car and waved at the two of you before heading back into the building. While you and Haechan had a free afternoon, Jaemin didn’t, so, after some begging and bribing on Jaemin’s part, Haechan begrudgingly agreed to drop him off.

You turned back around to Haechan, wondering if you should propose to do something together, or if he was bored of you and had other things he’d rather be doing. However, before you had the chance to make up your mind, Haechan spoke for you.

‘I know where to go now.’ And with that he was off, driving out of the gates and off down the road. You couldn’t help but notice how good of a driver he was, always managing to keep his awareness on the road even when he was talking to you. 

Haechan fumbled for something down near his feet, letting out a happy giggle when he found it and pulled out an AUX cord. He offered it to you, telling you to put something on the speakers.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise at his offer, considering he’d adamantly refused to let Jaemin play any of his music on the way to grab lunch, instead choosing to listen to the radio.

‘Already letting me choose the music? Damn, I feel special.’ You teased as Haechan laughed.

‘Just don’t play that song and we’ll be good.’ He looked over for a split second, noticing your offended face and quickly continued. ‘It’s a good song, don’t get me wrong, but all Jaemin plays is girl groups and you reach a limit of how many times you can hear a grown ass boy with blue hair sing Feel Special.’

You looked down at your phone, chuckling to yourself at Haechan’s story. You scrolled through your Spotify to find a good playlist, eventually settling on your driving music one. ‘What You Know’ by ‘Two Door Cinema Club’ started to blare through the speakers.

Haechan nodded, his fingers immediately tapping on the steering wheel in time to the song.

‘Good song!’ He complimented smiling at you as you gasped over-dramatically.

‘Ahhhh, Haechan likes my music taste! I have officially won at life!’ You placed one hand on your heart to emphasise your point as Haechan rolled his eyes, laughing at you. ‘Where are we going by the way?’ You asked, looking out of the window and realising you had no idea where you were. You were still new to the area so you hadn’t got everywhere memorised yet.

‘We’re almost there, don't worry.’ He replied, not giving you an answer in the slightest. You leaned back into your seat, accepting that he wasn’t going to tell you and just listened as Haechan began to sing gently along to the song. You were surprised by his voice, it was soothing and honey-like, the opposite of his image.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye, secretly enjoying listening to his voice more than the music.

---

You were standing behind Haechan in a quiet little coffee shop, looking at everything on the menu. Everything looked so amazing you could feel your mouth watering just from looking at the display cakes. 

‘Any idea what you want?’ Haechan asked over his shoulder as you nodded.

‘I’m gonna get the Caramel Frap and a muffin of some kind.’ You replied. ‘What about you?’

‘Doubleshot Vanilla iced Coffee and a brownie. You gonna have coffee in your frap?’ He answered, moving forwards in the line as the person in front of you finished.

‘Always!!!’ You answered in a sing-song voice as Haechan rolled his eyes muttering something about you being as bad as Jaemin.

He stepped up to the counter and gave the cashier a friendly smile.

‘Hi, please can I get one large Caramel Frap with coffee and whip, one large Doubleshot Vanilla iced Coffee, one brownie and-’

‘Whoa what? It’s okay I can pay for myself.’ You interrupted him but he brushed you off.

‘Nah it’s fine, this is on me. And one peanut and banana muffin please?’ He finished the order and your eyes widened at his choice. ‘All the muffins here are good.’ He explained turning back to you.

‘Haechan I-’ You began, slightly in a panic.

‘Y/n, I told you I’m paying.’ He insisted but you continued.

‘Seriously I can’t-’ You stuttered, desperately trying to get your point across.

‘For the last time, y/n I am paying!’ He cut you off again.

‘No! I’m allergic to peanuts...’ You hurriedly told him and watched as his expression morphed into one of utter dread.

‘Oh god.’ He mumbled before turning around and almost throwing himself across the counter in an attempt to correct his order to a white chocolate and raspberry muffin. He turned back to you with the treats in his hand and gave you a sheepish smile. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s okay, you didn’t know.’ You laughed, looking down at the muffin in your hand that smelt absolutely delicious.

It didn’t take long before your drinks had arrived and Haechan hurried you back into his car, claiming there was one more place he wanted to show you.

---

You were sitting on a bench in a deserted area of the park. Haechan had explained that if you wanted privacy, to come down here as people normally don’t bother to walk this far. He pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket, offering you one which you refused, before lighting his own.

‘It’s always worth it though. The tranquility that you get just from being a little further out.’ He looked sideways at you, tilting his head when he saw your confused expression. ‘What?’

‘Nothing it’s just... Why are you telling me all this? I mean I was told that you were aloof, never telling anyone but a close few details about yourself, keeping everything a mystery and yet here you are. With me, someone you’ve known now for about five hours and so far we’ve skived Maths, set off the fire alarm, brought the fire brigade to school, bought McDonalds, grabbed a coffee, almost killed me and now you’re talking to me about tranquility. You just... It doesn’t seem like something you’d do with someone you just met.’ You admitted, shrugging your shoulders as you finished.

Haechan looked away from you for a second, taking a drag from his cigarette before he faced you again to answer your question.

‘Well, I guess the only thing to say to that is, not all rumours are true. And yes, you have a point, not a lot of people sit and talk about tranquility with someone they just met, but not a lot of people get into trouble worthy of suspension on the first day. And even less of those people are willing to do it with me. Maybe that has something to do with it.’

‘Tell me something, then. Which rumours are true?’ You challenged.

‘Some of them.’ Haechan admitted. ‘I do smoke, I do cause trouble, I did sleep around quite a bit, and yeah, I hurt some people in the process. And also, yes, I didn’t really care that much. But the one thing I never did was lie to anyone or give them the impression that it was ever something more than just one night. That’s why I was “unsympathetic” to anyone. They knew what they were getting into so why is it my fault that they couldn’t handle it?’

Your jaw dropped slightly, not expecting that kind of answer. You mumbled a quick ‘fair point’ and turned your gaze back to the scenery. The river in front of you flowed gently, coursing it’s own way through life, the sun reflected off the constantly moving waves, casting flecks of light to dance across yours and Haechan’s bodies.

‘But I don’t think I’m gonna be doing that again. It makes you feel kinda empty, like you’re searching for something but anytime you come close to possibly having a chance at finding it, you take it away from yourself. Do you see that up there?’ Haechan changed the topic suddenly, pointing to a cliff edge in between the trees. You squinted slightly, trying to get a look at it, but it was difficult to see through the leaves.

‘Yeah, I think so. What’s up there?’ You asked, turning your body towards him as he grinned.

‘Real tranquility. If you ever want to properly get away, that’s where you go.’ He told you and you looked back. ‘From up there you can see the whole city.’

‘But how do you get up there?’ You wondered and Haechan simply winked in response, tapping his nose twice to signal that he wasn’t going to tell you. ‘Will you ever actually tell me anything when I ask?’

‘We’ll see princess, we’ll see.’ Haechan grinned, turning back to the river but at some point having moved closer to you, so close that your legs were almost touching.

Your heart was pounding, yet you weren’t sure if it was from the nickname or the close proximity of the two of, or both. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you had a strong suspicion it was the latter.

---

Before you knew it, another month had passed in your new city and you weren’t feeling so much like the obnoxiously new kid. You knew your way around without getting lost, your professors had started to get to know you and stopped treating you like you were made of glass because you were new, and you had a good group of people around you.

Haechan had easily become your closest friend, his constant teasing covered a layer of love that it took him a while to show to you. But once he did, you were constantly smothered by his affections. And if Haechan wasn’t smothering you, then Jaemin would be. Once you got to know him, Jaemin was almost too nice for his own good, his caring and loving nature making him a very easy person to get along with. There was never an awkward moment between the two of you and already, he felt like a friend you’d known for years.

Apart from those two, you had also become friendly with Momo from your sports class, Hyunjin from Chemistry, Siyeon from History and Dino from Music. But none of them really held a candle to how close you were with Haechan.

You found yourself spending most of your time with Haechan, Jaemin often came too but you realised pretty quickly after befriending him that, wherever you were, Haechan would find a way to be there too.

Your friendship hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the school either. In fact, you were surprised by how quickly it had gone around that the two of you were close. The day after you had gone out for a coffee, you had walked into school to be greeted with confused stares and hushed whispers surrounding you everywhere you went.

You did your best to just ignore them, you told yourself you couldn’t care less what people here thought of you, it wasn’t as if you would be here for long anyway. Their whispers and accusations sometimes got to you slightly, but every time you finished your classes and saw Haechan waiting for you with his sunshine smile, you found all your worries melting off you.

You had always met some pretty cool people wherever you went, but you had never met anyone quite like Haechan, nor had you ever expected to. You already knew that he was something you would miss about this town when you inevitably left.

‘Bye Dad!’ You shouted through your house, a similar response coming from his study as you walked out of the front door. Even though you didn’t have class until late morning on a Tuesday, you and Haechan made it a tradition to grab a coffee together before it started.

And as you turned around there he was. Leaning out of the open window of his car grinning at you.

You smiled back in greeting, before climbing into the passenger seat, grabbing that aux cable he had offered you, and setting down as he took off.

Haechan had officially entrusted you with the music, naming you the car DJ much to Jaemin’s discontent. You were often on the receiving end of his whiny complaints about the injustice and unfair treatment he was getting.

Haechan pulled into the street that your favourite bakery was one, parking his car swiftly before you both made you way into the shop. You had arrived a little later than usual due to traffic, so you quickly approached the counter.

You leant forwards, catching the barista’s attention and gave them a smile before telling them your order.

‘Hi! Please can I have one Caramel Frap with coffee, one chocolate chip cookie, one Doubleshot Vanilla Iced coffee and one brownie please?’

The barista nodded, handing you the card machine as you quickly tapped your phone before Haechan could complain. You turned around, expecting to see him watching you in surprise, but instead he was nowhere to be seen.

The barista handed you the cookie and brownie in a bag before they moved to make your coffees as Haechan jogged into the shop.

‘Left my phone in my car.’ He explained before moving towards the counter.

‘Here.’ You said, offering him the bag which held his brownie. ‘Your coffee is on the way.’

Haechan reached for the bag slowly, confusion all over his face as he looked inside it.

‘I got you a Doubleshot Vanilla Iced coffee.’ You informed him, relishing in the way his face lit up with excitement at the mention of his favourite drink.

‘Why- You didn’t have to do this!’ Haechan whined. ‘I’ll pay you back!’

‘No you won’t.’ You said firmly, ignoring his protests. ‘I never paid you back for the first time we got a coffee together so this counts for then. Now we’re even.’

‘How did you know what to get me though?’ Haechan wondered, looking up at the menu.

‘I remembered?’ You offered, laughing at him slightly. ‘Plus you mentioned it to me a couple of days ago that it was your favourite so I thought it was safest to go with that one.’

You head turned towards the counter as your name was called, signalling that your drinks were ready. You walked over to collect them, missing the way Haechan watched you go with the softest smile on his face.

You handed him his drink as the two of you made your way back to his car.

‘Ready for class?’ You asked, groaning slightly at the thought of your history lecture that was looming.

But he didn’t reply, instead just looked at you. You tilted your head in confusion at him, wondering why he wasn’t starting the car.

‘Haechan?’ You asked and something in him seemed to wake up.

‘Hyuck.’ He corrected, turning away from you and beginning to drive away. ‘Call me Hyuck.’

You couldn’t help the small smile that spread across your face as you cruised through the streets.

‘Hyuck...’ You repeated to yourself under your breath, unaware of the way that Hyuck’s lips twitched upwards into a smile slightly as you did.

---

For the next two weeks you fully utilised your new privilege, calling him Hyuck at every opportunity you had. You also couldn’t stop yourself because every time you called him Hyuck, he would turn around to look at you with the largest grin on his face. There was no lying that both of you were happy with the rapid speed the two of you were becoming so close you were almost inseparable. 

You were lying in your bed on Friday night, your chemistry textbook and worksheets from hours ago lay abandoned on your desk as you stared up at your ceiling. Your final lecture had been cancelled, so you originally planned to come back and try to get some work done. Only, once you started did you realise that your mind was just a fuzzy mess and there was no way you were going to get through it.

Instead you decided to go to sleep, hoping that some rest would help you clear your head and you’d feel more refreshed the next morning. However, your attempt to get an early night for once was disrupted by your mind and body purely refusing to let sleep take you. 

You groaned, rolling over on to your side and staring at your clock. The numbers shined brightly in your face, the red 2:08am reflecting off your eyes as you stared at them. Turns out it was Saturday morning.

You were just about to give up and go downstairs to watch something, when you noticed your phone screen suddenly light up. You grabbed your phone and lifted it to your face to see a text sitting on your home screen.

Hyuck: yo

Hyuck: are you awake

You grinned at your phone, texting back a quick reply.

You: yeah

You: couldn’t sleep. why

Hyuck: come outside

You furrowed your eyebrows at that, silently moving to your window and pulling the curtains back. You looked down at your drive and saw Hyuck’s car sitting there with him in the driver’s seat staring up at your window. You made eye contact with him and he nodded towards his empty passenger seat. You held up a finger, asking him to wait a minute, and you shut your curtain again.

You quickly grabbed a pair of shoes and ran out of your bedroom, making sure to grab your keys on your way. You made your way through your house, leaving a quick note for your dad in case he woke up and thought you had disappeared, and slipped as silently as you could out of your front door, jogging down to the car that was waiting for you.

‘God it’s cold out there!’ You exclaimed, rubbing your arms to warm yourself up as you directed the heaters in his car towards you.

Hyuck raised his eyebrows at you, replying sarcastically.

‘Well, maybe if you’d worn more than a thin t shirt in October this wouldn’t be a problem.’

You looked down at what you were wearing, huffing when you realised he was right. Your choice of pyjamas, a t-shirt and jogging bottoms, while comfortable, were not doing much to battle the cold night air. You opened the door to run back inside and grab a jumper but Hyuck stopped you.

‘Don’t worry, I had a feeling you would do this, so I came prepared.’ He leaned backwards, reaching into his back seat and pulled out a hoodie of his before dropping it into your lap. ‘Here, wear this.’ He told you, quickly turning his attention back to his car as he got it started.

You looked down at the hoodie in your lap, unable to stop yourself from smiling slightly, and you whispered a quick thanks. You pulled it over your head, allowing yourself to be submerged in the soft fabric. The first thing you noticed was Hyuck scent taking over your being. You were surrounded by him and it was much more comforting than you were expecting.

Unknown to you, Hyuck found himself unable to take his eyes off you. Seeing you in his hoodie made his heart beat a lot faster than he was willing to admit, and, if he was being honest, he didn’t want you to ever take it off.

Hyuck began to drive and you found yourself automatically reaching for the aux cable. You decided to play one of your favourite songs that you hadn’t heard in a while, and soon ‘(Un)Lost’ by ‘The Maine’ gently filled the car, immediately reinforcing the relaxed atmosphere.

‘You hungry?’ Hyuck asked, and you shrugged slightly.

‘I could go for some ramen to be honest.’ You replied. ‘What’s going to be open at this hour though?’ You looked out of your window and found yourself filled with confusion. ‘Where even are we?’

‘Somewhere I like to come when I can’t sleep.’ He answered you. ‘Also, don’t worry, I know a place to eat.’

You hummed in response, trusting Hyuck’s judgement when it came to food. You had learnt that he always knew the best places. You couldn’t help the feeling of deja vu you were having, flashbacks to the time you and Hyuck first got coffee together and he refused to tell you where you were going, travelled through your head.

You stared out of the window, trying to recognise any of your surroundings, but you were on an empty road with trees on either side of you. If you weren’t with Hyuck you would have been terrified.

Eventually, he began to slow down, and you spotted a neon lit diner to your right. Hyuck drew the car to a halt and you both climbed out. He noticed the slightly nervous look on your face as your eyes darted across the dark woods surrounding you, and held out a hand. You smiled shyly, reaching out for him. The second you felt his hand in yours, you immediately relaxed and allowed Hyuck to pull you towards the diner.

A small bell sounded, signalling your arrival as Hyuck pushed the door open, and a man who you assumed was around mid-twenties appeared from the back. One look at the two of you and his face lit up into the biggest smile.

‘Donghyuck! Welcome back!’ He exclaimed, throwing his arms out to the side for emphasis.

‘Hi Johnny.’ Hyuck laughed, bringing you forwards as the tall male came around the counter to give him a hug. He pulled away from the hug and turned towards you. ‘Johnny, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Johnny, he runs this diner.’

‘Ahhhh, so this is the famous y/n!’ Johnny laughed, turning towards you. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you.’

‘It’s nice to meet you too.’ You replied, slightly taken aback at how nice this guy was.

‘So the usual?’ Johnny asked Hyuck and he nodded in response. ‘Anything for you, y/n?’

‘Surprise me.’ You said, having no idea what this place even offered, and Johnny nodded, his large smile never leaving his face.

‘Oh, Taeil is in the kitchen tonight if you want to say hi.’ Johnny said, turning back to Hyuck. Hyuck’s eyes lit up at the mention of Taeil and he turned to you, telling you he’d be back in a second.

‘Don’t rush, Hyuck.’ You laughed. It was clear from Hyuck’s expression that he hadn’t seen this Taeil in a while.

‘Tell him the order while you’re there?’ Johnny shouted, getting a shout back in reply. Johnny chuckled to himself, offering you a seat by the island and sitting next to you. ‘You know, Donghyuck talks about you a lot when he’s here.’

Your eyes shot up to his, your eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise and he nodded.

‘Yeah, you must mean a lot to him. Not only are you wearing his hoodie and you get to call him Hyuck, but he brought you here. That’s something...’

‘What makes you say that?’ You asked, sending Johnny an appreciative smile as he poured you a glass of water.

‘This is his safe space, the place where he comes whenever he wants to escape. Mainly from other people.’ Johnny gestured around him, and you followed his movements, your eyes resting on the seats, tables and jukeboxes that decorated this place.

‘I don’t get it, why would that make me important to him?’ You asked, looking at Johnny once more.

‘Well, most of the time, when you want to escape from something, you don’t bring the thing you’re running from with you. Donghyuck has never brought anyone here, not even Jaemin, and those two grew up together. So for him to bring you here, you must be something pretty damn special.’

You were speechless by the time Johnny had finished. You had been completely unaware of just how much Hyuck had cared for you. You weren’t even aware of the smile that was stretching across your face until Johnny chuckled.

‘I can see he’s special to you too.’

You looked back at him and nodded.

‘I...’ You swallowed slightly before speaking again. ‘I wasn’t expecting to care for someone this much.’

Johnny lifted up a hand, placing it on your shoulder and squeezing gently. You found the gesture surprisingly reassuring and you sent him a grateful smile.

‘For what it’s worth, you two make a good pair.’ Johnny said. ‘I’m glad he’s found someone he cares for this much.’

At the moment a laughing Donghyuck came bursting back through the kitchen doors, quickly followed by a slightly shorter male who you assumed was Taeil. Taeil looked up and saw you.

‘This is y/n?’ He asked Hyuck, who nodded in confirmation.

You stood up to greet him, placing your water on the counter as you did so.

‘It’s nice to meet you.’

‘You too, I’m Taeil.’ Taeil introduced himself, and you smiled at him.

Hyuck held up two boxes of ramen, the smell making your mouth water.

‘Shall we?’

---

You sat on the hood of Hyuck’s car and looked out over the skyline. The entire city was illuminated, the lights shining through the darkness and creating bright patterns in the night. You were mesmerised by the sight in front of you, the beauty of the twinkling lights demanding your attention.

The two of you were currently at the look out point which Hyuck had pointed out to you the day you had first met. It was a cliff edge that you could drive to, and it was only a couple of minutes away from the diner.

Your trip to the diner has been surprisingly entertaining. It was clear that Johnny and Taeil had known Hyuck and each other for a long time, but they made sure to welcome you and make sure that you felt comfortable. They wanted to know about the previous places you’d been to and any stories of your life or previous schools that you wanted to share. There was never an awkward moment, the three of them being so quick witted with their humour that you were in stitches the entire time. It felt as though you had spent the past half an hour laughing with old friends.

You didn’t know how long it had been since you’d felt an environment like that.

Hyuck was silently watching you, studying the reflection of the city lights in your eyes and wondering what was going through your mind. He eventually forced himself to tear his eyes away from you and back to the scenery in front of him. This view was normally the only that could set his mind at ease no matter what he was feeling, but after today, after seeing you interact so well with the friends he called his family, after seeing how beautiful you looked in his hoodie, how ethereal you were sat on his car in the moonlight... all Hyuck wanted to do was kiss you.

‘I’ve got to say, out of all the places I’ve lived, this is my favourite view.’ You softly broke the silence and Hyuck found his gaze wandering back towards you again.

‘Can I ask you something?’ He asked and you hummed in response. ‘How many places have you lived?’

You turned your head towards his and thought for a second.

‘Honestly... there’s been so many, I don’t think I could tell you the exact number.’ You told him. ‘I’ve moved around since I was a kid, we rarely stayed anywhere longer than one year before we headed to a new city which always seemed to be as far away from the previous one as you could possibly get. My dad’s job requires him to move wherever the company asks him to move, so we’ve never really had a choice. It’s nice, I guess, I get to see all these amazing places and travel so much already, but...’ You trailed off, unsure whether to continue.

‘But?’ Hyuck encouraged, looking at you with nothing but support in his eyes.

‘But it’s hard.’ You admitted. ‘People don’t really see how difficult it is. Everyone sees me as the lucky one, they tell me they wish they could travel like me, and see all the things I’ve seen. Someone even once told me that they wished they could only live in one place for one year before moving on, because then they wouldn’t have to worry about caring for anyone but themselves. Sometimes, for me, it really feels like that. But that it’s a good feeling. I’ve never lived anywhere longer than a year. I’ve even never lived anywhere long enough to call it home. I’ve never had a friendship, or relationship of any kind for that matter, that didn’t end a month after I moved away.’

‘You have your parents though, right?’ Hyuck asked, and you nodded in response.

‘Yeah, I have my dad. My mum, umm, she-’ You paused for a minute to take a breath. ‘She didn’t like the constant moving, she always said she found it too difficult. So, when I was nine, she decided she wasn’t going to move on with us. One night, she packed her bags, walked out the house and never came back. I haven’t seen her since.’ You confessed. You had never told anyone that, yet somehow, it felt safe to tell Hyuck.

‘I’m sorry.’ Hyuck offered and you sent him a smile.

‘It’s okay, it was a really long time ago.’ You tried to reassure him, even though you knew it wasn’t very convincing. ‘Moving like this... it’s a lot more lonely than you think it is.’

Hyuck moved himself slightly closer to you so that you were almost touching. He lifted his hand, and gently tucked your hair behind your ear before cradling your face.

‘You don’t have to be alone here. I’m going to be right beside you.’ He promised, the sincerity in his voice scaring you slightly. You knew that he meant it with every fibre of his being.

You didn’t know who leaned in first, nor did you care, but, either way, the two of you began to lean in. Your lips were almost touching when you stopped. Hyuck, noticing your movements, stopped immediately as well, his lips so close that his breath was gently fanning your face.

‘I’m leaving at the end of this year.’ You whispered, not moving away from him.

‘So we have two thirds of it left.’ Hyuck argued, his thumb gently stroking your face.

‘I’ll break your heart.’ Your voice was even softer than before, wavering slightly with emotion as your eyes fluttered shut.

‘It’ll be worth it.’ Hyuck whispered back, before you allowed him to finally close the distance.

He pressed his lips to yours, it was sweet, innocent and everything that a first kiss should be. You lifted up your hand to rest them on his wrists as he pulled away. He moved his hands away from your face and brought them down to your waist, pulling you closer and you wound yours around his neck.

You leant in again, this time kissing him with more passion. You were so overwhelmed with how much Hyuck cared for you, and how much you cared for him that all you wanted to do was show him, and this was the only way you knew you. Neither of you said it, but you both knew this was the start of your relationship, a secret kiss in a hidden place, with only the stars in the sky as your witnesses. And, honestly, it couldn’t be more perfect.

---

You closed the front door as quietly as you could, wincing as the lock audibly clicked into place. You briefly stopped to grab the note you had written for your dad before leaving and scrunched it up into a little ball before throwing it away. You then began to make your way through your house, tiptoeing silently past your dad’s room before making it into the safety of your own.

You fell into bed, pulling the covers up and smiling happily into them. No one had ever made you feel this way, and you couldn’t imagine ever feeling this way about anyone else.

There was something about Hyuck that made you want to just do things. Not in a “throw caution to the wind and cause chaos” kind of way, but in a motivational kind of way. He made you want to work harder, to fight for what you want, to always give people a chance to see the real them, to say yes more.

You couldn’t imagine what your life would be like if you hadn’t followed him out of the window on the first day. And if you could do it all again, you knew, you wouldn’t change a thing. You pulled the sleeves of Hyuck’s hoodie down over your fingers as you found yourself, once again, comforted by his scent.

It was only then that you realised you had forgotten to give it back, quickly reaching for your phone to text him.

You: i still have your hoodie

Hyuck: keep it for now

Hyuck: you can give it back to me at school on monday

Hyuck: or you can wear it

Hyuck: actually no

Hyuck: please wear it

You: i promise

You: night hyuck x

Hyuck: night

Hyuck: sleep well <3

---

You had kept your promise to Hyuck, wearing his hoodie into school and you were blown away by the amount of attention it had gathered. You would have thought that people would have more interesting things to talk about, but the main conversation topic in the corridors for the past week, was yours and Hyuck’s relationship.

Today was the Wednesday of the week after that Monday. You had a single lecture in the afternoon, while Hyuck was stuck in school until the end of the day. You had never been happier to hear the bell ring, signalling your escape from the most painfully boring Chemistry lecture of your life. You exited the classroom, laughing with Hyunjin as you complained about the hell you had just been put through.

He waved you a friendly goodbye, one which you returned before you walked towards your locker. You placed your books inside it and closed the door, making sure to lock it shut. You turned around, almost jumping out of your skin when you spotted three girls waiting for you to finish.

‘Can I help you?’ You asked, confused beyond belief as to why they were silently standing by your locker.

The one in the middle spoke first.

‘We just want to look out for you honey. Haechan is bad news, and we don’t want you to get hurt.’

You frowned at them in disbelief, wondering why on earth they were telling you this. You had never even seen any of them around Hyuck before.

‘Yeah, he’s a  bad boy for a reason and we’re just worried that you're blinded by his charms. We’ve all fallen for it at some point, and we don’t want you to get manipulated like the rest of us.’ The brunette on the left piped up as you rolled your eyes.

‘Ok, this is very.... weird. Also, it’s not really any of your business, so thanks for your concern, but I’m fine by myself.’ You picked your bag up from the floor, swinging it over your shoulder.

As if a switch had been pressed, the expressions on the girls faces changed in a flash. Gone were the sympathetic looks and wide eyes as judgemental gazes and cocky smirks replaced them.

‘I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not the golden girl. You’re not the exception to the rule, the one who’s going to be able to change him, so stop trying. You’re not that special. You’re wasting your time and you’re going to end up with a broken heart.’ The one of the right spat, surprising you with her sudden change of tone.

‘She’s right.’ The middle one took charge again. ‘He’s nothing more than a cigarette puffing, selfish asshole. Just remember, we’ll be here when it all goes to shit.’

They began to strut their way down the corridor, leaving a very confused you standing by your locker.

‘Y/n?’ A voice suddenly rang out. You turned towards the sound to see Jaemin coming towards you. ‘What was that all about?’

---

You sat next to Jaemin on a bench at the nearby park. You dragged him down the river to find a deserted area, before sitting down to explain what had happened. Jaemin had insisted that you talk him through it, not wanting you to feel alone.

‘-so they reassured me that it was going to fail, no matter what.’ You finished, staring at the river in front of you.

Jaemin didn’t respond for a minute, just watched you as you finished speaking. Eventually, he broke the silence between the two of you.

‘You know, something that comes with having a reputation like Hyuck’s, is that everyone puts their own spin on it. Everybody likes to come up with new things that he’s done or find a rumour that sounds like him and spread it. He’s been ignoring it for god knows how long, but that doesn’t stop it from happening. I’m not going to tell you how to feel, that’s not my job. However, I am going to tell you this.’

Jaemin readjusted his seating, moving so that he was facing you more. You mimicked him, turning your side towards the water.

‘Hyuck is brave, and self assured, and confident, and cocky, but, just like everybody else, he has his weakness. And for him, it’s love. He’s completely terrified of falling in love. When Hyuck slept around last year, he didn’t do it just cause he wanted sex, or cause it was a confidence boost to get those girls. He did it because he wanted company, because he was lonely. But, he could never let it be for longer than one night because then he was putting himself at risk.’

‘At risk of what?’ You asked, and Jaemin sighed before continuing.

‘Of getting attached, of catching feelings, of being vulnerable, of caring. Hyuck’s afraid of falling in love with someone because, if he does that, then there’s no turning back. He’s at their mercy, and no one will have the power over him that that person does. And that terrifies him.’

You nodded as Jaemin spoke, taking in every detail. When he finished you leaned back on the bench, this time staring up at the clouds as they passed. Jaemin had made a lot of sense and, although you would never admit it, you did understand his fear of being in love.

‘I care about him.’ You began as Jaemin looked back towards you. ‘I care about him a lot. But there’s this part of my brain that’s telling me he’s got a reputation for a reason. That this only has one ending and I’m kidding myself if I think I’m any different from the previous girls.’

‘You’re kidding yourself if you think you’re anything like them.’ Jaemin huffed. ‘And, if you’re going to think like that, if that’s going to dominate your mind, then honestly, you should spare Hyuck the pain. After everything, he deserves to actually have someone who loves him, not someone who doubts him. If you can’t see past his reputation, then it’s not fair to string him along.’

You could tell from Jaemin’s eyes that he meant every word. As soon as he said that, it was like a cloud had been lifted, clearing your vision. You leant forward, forcing him to look at you while you spoke truthfully.

‘I’m not going to judge him on his reputation. I don’t want to. I care about him, and that’s all that matters. And I don’t care about what other people think about him, because I know him.’

Jaemin nodded at you, a smile forming on his face.

‘Good.’ He looked down at his watch. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be meeting him at yours tonight?’ He asked, looking back up at you.

You pulled out your phone, checking the time and your eyes widened. You and Jaemin had spoken for a lot longer than you had thought, and at this rate, Hyuck was going to beat you back to your house. You stood up, thanking Jaemin before giving him a quick hug and running home to Hyuck.

---

One takeaway, four movies and three deep conversations later, Hyuck had fallen asleep. You quietly closed your laptop, placing it on the floor as you climbed out of your bed. You picked up the food containers, carrying them downstairs to the kitchen as you cleaned up slightly.

You dropped the takeaway boxes into the bin, before washing your hands. You thought for a second before grabbing two glasses, which you filled up with water and made your way back to your bedroom.

When you arrived, you spent a short amount of time standing in the doorway and just watched Hyuck sleep. He looked so angelic when he slept, all the stress and worries of the day melted off his features. You placed the water next to your side, moving around the bed to place the second one next to him.

You stepped forward, lightly grabbing the blanket and pulling it up to cover him with it. You lifted up a hand, placing it in his hair and you gently stroked it. He let out a contented hum in his sleep and you smiled down at him. You removed your hand, replacing it with your lips for a soft kiss on his temple and then proceeded to stand up and move around to your side of the bed.

You lifted up the covers and climbed in. Hyuck, as if sensing the sudden weight, rolled over, his arm finding its way around your waist before you had even laid down properly. His other one snuck underneath you, unnoticed by you until you lay down and found your head resting on it. Hyuck tightened his grip, pulling you close into his chest as you were surrounded by his embrace.

As much as you loved sleeping in his hoodies, this was by far the better option. You rested one hand on his chest, the other one winding around his waist and you curled up as close to him as you could.

You shut your eyes, letting your mind drift back to the conversation you had with Jaemin earlier, and the unprovoked attack from the girls in the hallway, and, easily, you came to one very solid conclusion.

The girls in the hallway may have been talking about Haechan, the rumours, the past mistakes and the persona, but you knew Donghyuck. You knew the boy that would stay up until 2am watching movies and chatting with you about life because you couldn’t sleep. You knew the boy that pulled you closer to him, even when he was fast asleep. You knew the real Donghyuck, and you were getting very scared that you were falling in love with him.

---

Time started to pass faster and, before you knew it, another month had passed. Your father had met Hyuck officially as your boyfriend and loved him. You had met Hyuck’s parents too, thankfully getting on their good sides even though they weren’t around much. You had managed to convince Hyuck to quit smoking, something that he had found surprisingly easy. Any time you asked how he did it, he’d claim that you were more addictive than any cigarette ever could be and give you a sweet kiss. Hyuck had been the perfect boyfriend to you, caring, fun, teasing and through it all, he still felt like your best friend.

You were preparing to head off and see him today. You grabbed your phone and keys before leaving your room and jogging down the stairs. You landed gently at the bottom and began to head straight for the door when you heard your father’s voice.

‘Y/n? Will you come in here for a minute sweetheart?’

You followed his voice into his study to find his standing by his desk, his phone in his hand.

‘Dad? Is everything okay? I’m meeting Hyuck in like ten minutes so I can’t be long.’ You said, checking your phone for the time.

Your father turned around to face you, leaning backwards so that he was sitting on the desk behind him.

‘Yes of course! Sorry, I’ll try to make it quick. Would you be happy to stay here for a bit longer than normal?’ He asked, getting straight to the point since he knew you had places to be.

‘Like this town?’ You wondered and your father nodded.

‘Yes, right here. In the same town and same house. Would you be okay with staying here for longer?’ You father spoke, this time raising his eyebrows in question.

‘How much longer?’ You asked, remaining suspicious and skeptical so that you didn’t get your hopes up.

‘Well, I’ve been offered a permanent position here, and I accepted it. So as long as you like.’ You jaw dropped at his words, unable to process what he was saying.

‘No more moving?’ You asked him.

‘No more moving.’ He confirmed and you burst out into a happy laugh, running forwards to hug him.

‘Oh my god, Dad that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!’ You gushed, pulling out of the hug to see his smiling face.

‘So you’re happy to stay here?’ He asked and you grinned back at him.

‘I think I’d be okay with that.’

---

You made your way through Hyuck’s house, stopping only to briefly wave at his parents, before arriving at his room. You could hear him talking inside, so you entered as quietly as you could. He turned around as you entered, smiling and coming towards you to place a soft kiss on your cheek before turning his attention back to his phone call. The smile hadn’t left your face since your dad had told you his news, and you couldn’t wait to tell Hyuck.

He walked towards his window while talking, clearly attempting to wrap up the conversation without being overly rude. You approached his desk, chuckling at the piles of papers and discarded assignments that lay on it. Hyuck never was one for keeping things neat. You tilted your head slightly as one piece in particular caught your eye.

You reached for it, pulling it out from the bottom of the pile and scanned the words, your heart sinking as you did. The title as the top stood out the most: “the to-DO list”.

As you read further and further down the page you saw name after name of different girls in the school, and next to them were a short list of pros and cons, and the number of points they were worth. There were even lines though some of the names with ticks next to them, which you could only assume meant that they were checked off.

You recognised Siyeon and Momo’s names, neither of them having a cross through, but you also recognised the names of the “Welcoming Committee”. They were the same girls who cornered you in the corridor to warn you about Hyuck, and you ignored them. All three of their names were on the list, and all three of them had lines through them.

When your eyes reached the bottom of the page, your heart stopped. You forgot how to breath and you felt as though time suddenly stood still. You stared at the final name, the latest addition to the list that had the highest points and a bright red line through it.

Y/n Y/l/n - 150 points

Pros: new kid, gullible, not around for long, won’t stay to cause you trouble

Cons: defensive, needs effort to be worn down, not as easy as previously assumed

You stared at your name, the tears that filled your eyes blurring it slightly, but not making it any less real. This was a game. Hyuck and his friends were playing a game about who could get the most of the girls. You were just a target to him, something to tick off his list. And he had.

You registered Hyuck hanging up the phone and you furiously blinked away your tears.

‘Sorry about that. I was trying to-’ Hyuck stopped talking mid-sentence, his phone falling from his grip in shock when you turned around with the list in your hand. His eyes shot from the paper to you again, but one look at your face told him everything he needed to know.

‘What’s this?’ You whispered, holding up the piece of paper for him to see.

You watched as Hyuck’s jaw dropped and fear and panic took over his features. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish out of water.

‘What is this?’ You asked again, articulating every word. ‘Please tell me it’s not what I think it is. Tell me that this isn’t some sick game, that- that I’m just some game to you.’

You watched as Hyuck struggled to form a reply, obviously lost for words at what was happening.

‘I swear to god Hyuck, you better tell me the truth right now or I am gonna walk out of that door and I am not coming back.’ You kept your head up, refusing to let him see how affected by this you were more than he already had.

‘Tell me!’ You shouted, your temper flaring as your patience ran thin.

That seemed to finally get through to Hyuck, his eyes snapped towards your face as he stuttered out some weak reply.

‘No- no- no it’s -it’s not what you... No y/n I don’t... I can’t explain it I just-’ Hyuck looked at you, his eyes full of desperation but you couldn’t find it in you to feel sympathy for him.

You let out an empty laugh, one of pure disbelief at your own foolishness. You couldn’t believe that you really thought you were important to him. It’s Lee Donghyuck for Christ’s sake. He has a reputation for a reason. What made you think you were special enough to break that?

You swallowed, lifting your eyes to Hyuck’s once more and realised that you didn’t know a thing about the boy who stood before you. You opened your mouth and, with a shaky voice, you spoke.

‘You know, I was told by so many people that I wasn’t the exception to the rule, I wasn’t the golden girl, I- I wasn’t the one who could change your ways or prove that you were more than just a cigarette puffing, leather jacket wearing, selfish ass hole. But, god... I really hoped I was. And for a minute there, I actually believed it... you actually let me believe it. Maybe that’s why this hurts so much.’

‘Y/n please-’ He began, reaching out for you with one arm but stopped cold at your next words.

‘Save it, Haechan.’ Your use of Haechan instead of Hyuck struck Donghyuck right to his core. You hadn’t called him Haechan in the two months since he’d given you permission to use Hyuck, instead taking pride in the fact that you were close to him to not only call him by his real name, but by his nickname. When you used Haechan, he felt as though someone had picked up a blade of ice and driven it straight into his heart.

He had no idea why this was hurting him so bad. He knew from the moment he walked in and saw that look on your face that something was wrong. He never liked seeing you upset, but watching that door slam behind you, he never would have been able to presume that him being the cause of your upset would have been so heart wrenching.

There’s something about knowing that you’re the reason that the person you love most in the world is crying, that can rip a man’s heart in two. And for the first time in his life, Donghyuck began to experience what heartbreak was like.

---

You ran out of the door, tearing down the streets as fast as the tears were running down your face. You felt small, you felt ridiculous, you felt humiliated, you felt as though you were five years old again. And all you wanted to do was run away.

The irony was impossible to ignore. Your entire life, you had hated moving. Always leaving everyone behind, allowing them to forget you and forcing yourself to forget them. Every city, town or village you had lived in, you had wanted to stay, make friendships that would last a lifetime, fall in love, grow old in the same place you grew up, but you never could. Now for the first time in your life you were finally staying in one place, a place that you were supposed to call home, and yet, you wanted nothing more than to leave it.

---

‘Ok, I’m just going to say it. You’ve done a lot worse to a lot of other girls and you’ve never had this severe of a reaction before. Why now? What’s so special about this one that she’s the reason you’re suddenly experiencing the feeling of guilt?’ Jaemin leaned forwards towards his friend, hoping to finally get a solid answer out of him.

Jaemin had received an SOS text from Donghyuck and immediately moved to meet him at the local bar. He was currently sat across from the aforementioned, watching as his friend had a mini meltdown in front of him. This was the most emotional that Jaemin had seen Donghyuck in a while, and he knew that there was something about you that Donghyuck was refusing to admit. 

‘I don’t know, but when I was standing there, looking at her face as these tears began to fall... all I wanted to do was to run up to her and wipe them away. To hold her and reassure her that... that I’m going to be the one to protect her from harm, not cause it, that I’m going to be the one who she’s safe with, the one who provides her comfort, the one who...’ Donghyuck trailed off at the end leaving Jaemin unable to catch what he was saying.

‘Alright, so here’s my next question: Why didn’t you?’ Jaemin raised an eyebrow at Donghyuck’s moping figure as his head shot up.

‘Why didn’t I what?’ Donghyuck questioned, too tired and emotionally worn out to actually think through what he was being asked.

Jaemin rolled his eyes so hard that he thinks he actually saw the one remaining braincell of his that had survived this conversation, the rest of them choosing to jump ship and abandon him.

‘Why didn’t you go elephant hunting? What do you think?! Why didn’t you do all those things you wanted to? Why didn’t you tell her how much she means to you?’

Donghyuck paused for a minute, thinking back to when he saw you standing there, completely vulnerable, with all your walls down for just him to see.

‘I was scared...’ He admitted, looking up at his friend slowly. ‘I’ve never felt like this before and I don’t know what it means to do this kind of stuff and be good at it. What if I told her the truth and she didn’t feel the same? What if I scared her away when I told her how I felt? I was scared that she wouldn’t want anything to do with me if I told her I loved her.’

Jaemin didn’t respond for a second, his mind taking it’s time to wrap around the fact that Donghyuck was in love. He knew that you meant more to Hyuck than he had ever let on, but Jaemin never would have expected for his friend to have fallen in love with you.

‘Donghyuck... I don’t think you’ll lose her if you tell her you love her. But I do think you may lose her if you don’t.’ Jaemin watched Donghyuck’s expression change as the realisation of the reality of Jaemin’s words dawned on him.

‘What do I do Jaemin?’ He asked, begging to know how to get you back.

‘Do what you couldn’t before.’ Jaemin told him. ‘Tell her the truth.’

---

You could feel all eyes on you as you walked through the main gates the following morning. It was the first time you had walked in by yourself, Haechan having insisted on driving you every morning he could, so this seemed to alert people that there was something wrong. 

You held your head high and refused to let them see how emotional you were, biting the inside of your cheek anytime you could feel your eyes begin to water slightly. If it were up to you, you would have stayed at home today, choosing instead to drown yourself in chocolate and chick flicks, but, unfortunately, your dad was working from home so you had to come in.

You made your way towards your locker, unable to avoid making eye contact with a couple of people along the way. You accidentally caught eyes with the trio of girls who you had become all too familiar with from their welcome when you arrived and their more recent “friendly” advice by your locker.

‘Aww hun, we tried to warn you...’ They crowded you, one of them stroking your hair and all of them effectively drawing all the attention towards you once more. ‘We wanted to protect you from this...’

You tensed up, irritated and a little creeped out by the unwanted contact.

‘Fuck off!’ You spat, pushing them away from you. They stepped forwards again, obviously trying to paint themselves as your saviours in front of the rest of the school who were watching.

‘Sweetie, we just want to help! We knew this would happen and-’

You cut them off, speaking quietly at them through gritted teeth.

‘You don’t know shit about what happened. Stop pretending like you care about me and go back to whatever it is that you do, and leave me alone.’

With that, just like it had in the hallway, the fake smiles and false pretences melted off the three witches, as they rolled their eyes at you before strutting away. Gossiping just loud enough for you to hear.

‘If she actually thought that relationship was real she’s such an idiot.’

‘I know! I mean, it’s Haechan for crying out loud, is she dumb?’

You screwed your eyes shut, resting your forehead against your locker as everyone else began to disappear from around you. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself and opened your locker. An envelope fell out of it as the door opened, the white paper landing on your feet.

You looked down at it in confusion, bending down to pick it up. You turned it over and examined the messy handwriting on the front. You immediately recognised it at Haechan’s and your eyes flew back to your locker, scanning it to see if he had left anything else. Your gaze focused on a bar of chocolate, which you pulled out and examined.

You nodded in disbelief. Did he really think that a bar of chocolate and a letter would make up for all that happened? When he couldn’t even look you in the face and give it to you himself? You grabbed your books, slamming your locker shut out of anger. If Haechan actually wanted to make amends, he should stop being such a coward and have the courage to face you himself to say whatever he wanted to. You weren’t going to give him an easy way out. 

Before you headed to your class you stopped briefly to dump the letter and chocolate in a nearby bin, unaware of Donghyuck’s teary eyes watching you as you did so.

---

You walked into the local bar, exhausted from the long day you had just had and desperate for a drink. The bar was a college bar, but it was famous amongst students to turning a blind eye towards seniors that may not be of legal drinking age yet.

That day, you had found flowers on your desk in History, your favourite coffee waiting for you at lunch and another letter and chocolate bar in your locker by the end of the day. By this point, you were fed up with it. Everyone had been pointing at you and watching you the entire day, trying to figure out what had happened, and these gifts were not helping to keep you away from everyone’s prying eyes.

All you wanted was to just sit at a booth by yourself and think for a minute before walking home. Unfortunately, life in the form of a slightly drunk baseball jock had other plans.

‘Hey there.’ He approached you, getting a bit too close for comfort.

‘Hi.’ You greeted politely, moving away from him slightly, an infuriated sigh falling from your lips when he followed you. 

‘Don’t run from me. What do you say that you and I get out of here okay?’ He purred, his face coming closer to yours so that you could smell the alcohol on his breath. You pushed against his chest, the alcohol coursing through his system worsening his balance making him take a few steps back. ‘Feisty... I like that.’ He began to advance again, making you quickly speak up.

‘Okay first of all, I just want to get a drink. Second of all, why would I leave when I’ve just arrived? Third of all, why would I leave with you?’ You turned away from him, rolling your eyes as you did so.

However, the message didn’t seem to go through his thick skull, with him pushing himself right up against you, his hand dangerously low on your back and he whispered into your ear, making your skin crawl.

‘You’ll pay for that later sweetheart.’

‘Hey!’ A different voice cut through and before you could register what was going on, an arm had wound its way around your shoulder and successfully pulled you away from the creep. ‘Back off.’

‘What do you think you’re doing, Na?’ The baseball player asked, his eyes narrowing as he noticed Jaemin pulling you away from him.

‘Spending some time with my friend, now beat it beefcake.’ Jaemin kept one hand on you, moving his arm off your shoulder but staying close so that you were comfortable.

‘Well, get in line I saw her first.’ He leant forwards to grab you again, as if you were some kind of prize that he’d won.

‘She said no.’ Jaemin said calmly, watching as the jock’s face screwed up in frustration as he lunged for you again, hitting Jaemin’s free hand as he reached out to stop the drunk from touching you.

‘That doesn’t matter.’ He began to raise his voice, the alcohol in his system fuelling his idiotic actions.

‘Allow me to explain, and I’ll use small words so you’ll be sure to understand.’ You had to stop yourself from smiling slightly at Jaemin’s words, his sass never failed to make you laugh and the fact that a couple of people in the bar had turned their heads towards the commotion made it even better. There was now an audience to watch as Jaemin obliterated the drunk baseball player in front of you two. ‘No means no. I understand that may be hard for you to understand, having taken so many hits to the head, but welcome to the 21st century you warthog faced buffoon.’

With that he turned away, making sure to keep himself between you and that jerk and guided you towards an empty booth as the jock was escorted out of the bar for uncivil behaviour. He sat down across from you and quickly whipped out his phone asking if you wanted anything.

‘I was originally planning on just getting something that wasn’t too strong but after that little experience I think I’ll take a vodka coke, thanks.’ You breathed, enjoying the safety of the booth that you were sat in.

Jaemin simply nodded, tapping away on his phone before putting it back into his pocket.

‘What do I owe you?’ You asked, reaching for your own phone so that you could pull up your mobile banking but Jaemin shook his head.

‘Why don’t you just get the next round?’ He proposed and you nodded in agreement.

‘Sounds fair.’ You trailed off after that, silence falling over the two of you as you tried to figure out what to say.

‘Thank you...’ You began. ‘For stepping in like that, he wasn’t backing down and I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.’ You were a little shaken up by it. Guys, especially drunk guys, had a tendency to be a bit gross and over comfortable but none of them had pursued and threatened you the way that guys had today.

‘Don’t mention it. He’s kinda famous for doing that kind of stuff, unfortunately people have just come to accept it. It’s fucked up.’ Jaemin chuckled. ‘People can get so used to seeing someone harass a woman that they begin to turn a blind eye.’

‘Yeah...’ You trailed off again, not sure how to respond.

Your drinks soon arrived, a waitress placing them down on the table in front of you. You reached out and grabbed the glass with your drink in as Jaemin picked up his. He lifted it to his lips and took a sip as you mirrored his actions with your own.

‘If you were meaning to catch Hyuck, he just left.’ Jaemin said suddenly, and you sent him a tight smile.

‘I wasn’t so don’t worry about it.’ You replied quickly, praying that this wouldn’t be the entirety of your conversation.

‘He misses you, you know?’ Jaemin continued softly, watching your face for any kind of reaction as you sighed.

‘Does he now?’ You muttered, staring into the dark brown drink in your hands.

‘Yes, y/n, he does.’ The certainty and clear frustration in Jaemin’s voice made you lift your eyes up to stare at him. ‘I’ve known Hyuck a long time and there’s something about you that’s stopped him in his tracks. He cares for you.’

‘He’ll move on. He always does, doesn't he? Soon he’ll stop wasting his money on the flowers or food and find his next girl to conquer. Don’t get mad at me for figuring out what was going on before he got the chance to pull the rug out from underneath my feet.’ You argued, slightly fed up that this was the only thing you could take about. You and Jaemin had always got along well so it upset and infuriated you that you had lost that relationship too.

Then Jaemin spoke again, this time the words that fell from his lips hitting you like a truck.

'Look, the list was never Hyuck’s idea to begin with, in fact he was really against it. The day you found it was the same day where he called our group to let them know that he was burning it, “it can only cause pain” were his words. The names that were crossed, weren’t crossed off by him. This old friend of ours, someone who we don’t speak to anymore after this, he heard about your relationship and gave Hyuck the list when he came back into town. Hyuck never wanted it, he never even looked at it once since he was given it, and he certainly didn’t care about it or use you just to cross your name off it. And the fact that you think that... y/n it’s killing him.’ He leant forwards as you averted your gaze, and forced you to look him in the eyes again. ‘Y/n, I've seen him work very hard to get girls and I've seen him work very hard to get rid of girls. I've never seen him work this hard to keep one around.’

And with that Jaemin stood, leaving the drink he barely touched sitting on the surface in front of you. You stared at it, not bothering to watch the boy leave as his last words swirled around in your head.

‘I’ve never seen him work this hard to keep one around.’

---

You stepped outside, shutting your front door behind you. You had arrived home from the bar to an empty house and having not felt like cooking, you decided to get a takeout. However, the one place you were really craving was only doing pickup so you had to walk there to order and get it. You pushed on the door, checking it was locked and then turned around, only to stop dead in your tracks when you found yourself face to face with Haechan.

The two of you just stared at each other, you refusing to speak first and, even though Haechan had practiced what he was going to say about a million times on the way over, all words had now left his mind. Eventually you just gave him a tight lipped smile and a nod and made to walk past him.

‘Wait! Y/n wait, please!’ Haechan called out and you slowed to a stop, lifting your eyes up to look at him once more. ‘I, um... I owe you an explanation.’

‘Really Haechan, you don’t have to it's pretty clear what was going on. It’s chill, we’re done and that’s fine. I’m just gonna do my thing and move on like I’d always planned and-’ You shrugged before getting cut off.

‘For the love of god y/n, would you please stop acting like everything’s fine and start dealing with your crap!’ Haechan snapped, causing you to look at him in shock. ‘Look, I’m sorry I snapped but... God, you don’t have to always pretend like it isn’t a big deal. You’re allowed to be upset about things. I hurt you, I know I did. You trusted me, confided in me, cared for me and I threw it all away, and it’s okay to be hurt by that. I’m not saying that I want you to feel hurt, obviously, but... not every has to mean nothing to you.’ Haechan was pretty much mumbling by the end of it, furious with himself for shouting at you when he was here to apologise.

‘Nothing? You think what happened meant nothing to me?’ You asked in disbelief. ‘Hyuck, when I saw that list, it was like everything I had ever thought, every reason I had ever had for keeping my walls up was proved true. I know it may seem like a small deal to some people, but it isn’t to me. It isn’t, okay? You lied to me, manipulated me for weeks, months even, and I feel like such an idiot. And don’t you dare think for one second that you mean nothing to me because the reason it hurt so much is because it was you. Nobody else has the power to hurt me and heal me like you do. And I keep my guard up, I keep my walls up, even when I’m upset, especially when I’m upset, because I don’t want someone to know what power they have over me. Because... if they see how much I care about them, how much I love them, what’s stopping them from using that against me? Once someone knows about it, I don’t have control over it anymore. Once someone knows about it, my heart is completely in the hands of, and at the mercy of, the person I love.’ You ranted, the tears in your eyes gathering rapidly as you tried with everything you could to blink them away. You never told people the truth about how you felt, scared about how they would react to the real you. In fact, telling Hyuck this was terrifying.

Hyuck stared at you with wide eyes, his expression, for once, was unreadable.

‘Love?’ He asked, hope reaching out across his face as you finally managed to get a read on him.

You swallowed, the fear that you had previously been trying to explain began to bubble up as you forced it back down.

‘Yes Hyuck, love...’

‘You’re calling me Hyuck...’ He pointed out, his voice just as soft as yours.

‘I guess I am.’

‘Do you love me?’

Your eyes shot up at his question, leaving their previous view of the tarmac of your drive and instead settling on Donghyuck’s brown eyes, ones that were currently glistening with tears.

‘Does it matter?’ You whispered. ‘It’s not going to change anything. It all still happened.’

‘But it didn’t! Well, it did, but I never wanted it to happen in the first place. I never wanted anything to do with that stupid list! I told him it would only hurt people and now I’ve gone and hurt the one person that I truly love and it’s not fair!’ Your eyes widened at his words, unable to process that fact that he just said love. Hyuck began to wind his hands through his hair as he continued his angry rant that wasn’t really directed at you but rather anyone who would listen. ‘I burnt it. I burnt the fucking list but it was too late and now it’s all a mess and it’s my fault cause I should have burnt it when I first got it. I never even scratched a name off, I’ve only spent time with you this year and I only ever wanted to and I want only you now and I’m not making sense anymore and-’

‘Hyuck!’ You interrupted, stopping him mid rant as his words began to turn to nonsense. His innocent doe eyes looked into yours and you refused to break eye contact. ‘Love?’ You asked, repeating Hyuck’s question from before.

You wanted as his demeanour completely changed. He forced some air into his lungs, dropping his shoulders as he took a deep breath. He lifted his head and locked eyes with you for the thousandth time that night, yet this felt very different. There was something in his gaze that held you captive, even if you had wanted to look away, you wouldn’t have been able to. Your eyes never left his, even as he began to speak and you saw the truth in his words through his sincere expression.

‘I’m not good at this. This kind of moment, this conversation where I admit how I’ve been feeling this entire time. I’m good with music, I’m good with food, I’m good with jokes and making people laugh, but... I’m really bad when it comes to looking someone in the eye and telling them how I feel. Especially if that means letting my walls down. I’m not here to tell you that I’m falling in love with you. I’m here to tell you that... I’ve already fallen. And I was terrified of falling for you, because it was so easy. The way you always remember my coffee order, or the way you drape a blanket over me when I fall asleep on the sofa, or the way that you made me care more about my life, about who I am and how I impact others. Loving you was so easy and that’s why it was so god damn terrifying. Because I couldn’t stop myself. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop myself from being in love with you. I am utterly, hopelessly, irretrievably in love with you. More than you’ll ever know. And for the first time in my life, that doesn’t sound so scary.’

By this point, the tears that had been previously threatening to fall were now steadily making their way down his face. You knew that you looked no better, your vision was blurry and your throat was tight. He refused to look away from you, not even to wipe the tears from his face, instead, he kept talking.

‘And I know that this doesn’t change anything. You’re still leaving at the end of this year, but that’s just over seven months away. And, even though I know how it’s going to end, I want those seven months with you. I do. I want them more than anything. And I will do anything it takes to earn your trust back.’

There wasn’t a single speck of doubt in your body that Hyuck was telling the truth. This wasn’t Haechan speaking, this was Donghyuck, vulnerable, emotional and broken Donghyuck talking to you from his heart, begging for your forgiveness and understanding. You found it impossible to tear your gaze away from him, your eyes glued to his as you tried to come to a conclusion in your mind.

No matter how many times the irrational part of your brain tried to convince you this was all a trick, some elaborate scheme that will end up with you getting your heart broken, you couldn’t hear it. It was outweighed by the sheer volume of every atom, every fibre of your being screaming out for the boy you loved, for Donghyuck.

‘Hyuck, I love you... But I don’t want you to have only seven months with me.’ You began. Donghyuck’s face quickly fell, as if accepting defeat and he sadly nodded. ‘I want you to have more than that. And I know that it doesn’t seem possible, because I’m moving, but, what if I wasn’t...’ You trailed off as Hyuck’s eyes filled with hope.

‘What are you saying?’ He asked, his lips twitching as he fought back a grin. He had never wanted anything more than he wanted you to be saying what he thought you were saying.

‘I’m saying, my dad got offered a permanent position here, and he took it. I’m not moving. I’m staying here, in the only place on earth I want to stay. Because, here, I get to be with you.’ You revealed.

A second passed as the revelation sank in and Donghyuck’s face split into the biggest smile you had ever seen on him. He rushed forwards towards you, his arms making their way around your waist as your bodies crashed into each other. You wound your arms around his neck, dropping your head into his shoulder and feeling him do the same. You breathed in, savouring the feeling of being wrapped in his embrace, the place you had missed so much.

Hyuck eventually lifted his head out of your neck, looking you deep in the eyes before he leant his forehead on yours and breathed out a soft:

‘I’ve missed you.’

You couldn’t stop the smile that grew on your face, nor could you stop your reply.

‘I missed you too.’

You pulled your forehead away from his, watching as his gaze flickered down to your lips and back up again, a questioning look in his eyes. You nodded, giving permission and Hyuck wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours.

You could have sworn fireworks went off. You had never understood that saying until that very moment, but right there, you felt an explosion of love that you hadn’t known was possible. You pressed yourself into him as his arms pulled you as close as possible until there wasn’t any space between your bodies.

You both pulled away to catch your breath, yet neither of you moved away from the other at all. You stayed just as close as you had been, with Hyuck’s arms never loosening from around your waist. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

‘I love you.’ He laughed, provoking a chuckle out of you too.

‘I love you more.’ You replied, grinning up at him as he raised an eyebrow at you.

‘Not possible.’ He answered back, his voice softening as he leant down to kiss you once more.

Hyuck kissed you again, and again, and again. He kissed you throughout the whole night, only stopping to whisper confessions of his love or to attempt to pull you closer to him than you already were. He came with you to pick up some takeout, he also insisted on paying, but even when waiting for the food, he held you tightly in a back hug.

He pulled your legs over his on the sofa at yours as he fed you your takeout while you watched a movie together. And he kept his tight grip on you as you went to sleep, tangled up together like vines, so intertwined that it seemed impossible to pull them apart.

Hyuck never ended up telling you why he held you so tightly that night. In his defence, you never really asked, and, as much as Hyuck allowed himself to be vulnerable and honest around you, this was something that he kept as his own little secret. As his own little confession. Whenever Hyuck was struggling, he just thought back to this night and how amazing it felt to finally have the girl he loved wrapped in his arms, with the knowledge that she will still be there when he wakes up.

He had finally found someone who he loved and would do anything for, and he never wanted to let you go.

---

Not even one month later, it was the Winter Formal. The school had decided to put a monumental amount of effort into it, hiring out a local ballroom and turning it into a winter wonderland, complete with fake snow, white trees, gentle lighting and sparkly white silk hanging around the room. You would be lying if you said that your breath wasn’t completely taken away when you walked in.

Yet none of it compared to the feeling of walking in with Hyuck on your arm.

Hyuck had surprised, not only you, but the entire school it seemed when he walked in with a smart suit on, a white flower in the pocket and green tie neatly around his neck. It seemed as though all eyes were on the two of you when you entered the hall, and you were sure that Hyuck’s look was something to do with it.

Of course he disagreed. He insisted that it was all to do with the green gown that you were wearing, claiming the way it hugged your figure in all the right places and the slit in the thigh made you look like a dream. Walking out of your house to meet Hyuck and seeing his jaw literally drop was a major confidence boost. That boy knew how to make you feel good about yourself.

You met your friends at the dance, and not even two minutes after arriving, were immediately pulled onto the dance floor by Jaemin.

‘You guys look good!’ He commented, flashing you his million dollar smile. ‘Probably the best out of everyone here. ’

‘Well we thought it was best to make an impression.’ You shrugged, grinning back at him.

Just as Hyuck opened his mouth to reply, your maths professor walked past, unable to stop himself from commenting.

‘Nice to see you finally put some effort into your appearance Haechan.’

‘Thank you sir. You too!’ Hyuck replied cheekily, before turning back to the two of you with a confused look on his face.

‘Was it just me or was that a little bit weird?’ He asked the two of you.

‘Just a bit, yeah!’ You replied, laughing as Jaemin agreed with you.

The music began to slow down and Jaemin, not wanting to get stuck in the masses of couples who were taking to the dance floor, said a quick goodbye before moving away.

Hyuck gently grabbed your hand with his, wrapping his other hand securely around your waist and pulled you in close to him. You rested your free hand on his shoulder and gently began to sway to the music.

The whole scene felt like something out of a movie. The soft lights were gently shining down on the two of you, making you feel as though you were the only two people there as the atmosphere surrounded you, enclosing you in your own little bubble. You found yourself getting lost in Hyuck’s eyes as the music faded slowly into the background, the sound of your heart beating for the boy in front of you overpowering everything else.

There really was nothing that you wouldn’t do for Hyuck. And, no matter what people told you, no matter what rumours you hear, you knew that you knew him. The real him. Not Haechan, not the bad boy cliche image that he puts up everyday, not everyone else’s perception of him as the kid who didn’t give a damn about anyone or anything. You knew Hyuck for who he truly was, all the good, the bad and the ugly. You had seen him at his highs and his lows, you trusted him with your heart and you knew he would never break it.

After all these years of moving and leaving things behind, you had finally found somewhere you could call home. Only it wasn’t a place. It was a person. And you knew that, as long as he was looking down at you with that much love in his eyes, you wouldn’t need any other home ever again.

Maybe senior year wasn’t just the best year of your life as everybody says it is, but also the beginning of the rest of it.

Roll credits.