#who cares if you sleep outside on a trip to a foreign country

[smimon]

Really not funny when an adult comes to you just to say (paraphrasing) "hey, let's play a game: if you are me, you win. Hey look, I win! And you are not me so you lose! Where is my medal"

[everythingblreview]

Eyes Only Translation (Kawase/Tamamori)

I’m back with anothert short translation project. This time of the Kawatama SS of Hashihime of the old book town released in the cool-b magazine. Thanks Lexi for helping me with the editing again.

Eyes only  I was watching the sky get brighter while gently caressing the head of black hair in my arms. There was no feeling of enjoyment or boredom. And yet I found myself hesitating to cough even once, wishing this moment would last forever. His curly hair felt pleasantly cold due to last night’s moisture. This beautiful season called summer is quickly becoming hotter and hotter, and thanks to him, become more bearable. I kissed his eyelid gently. He knitted his eyebrows and sneezed in his sleep, did he mistake it for a bug? This man isn’t seductive at all. In the morning we return to being friends. When he was finally in the mood to wake up, he grabbed my arm on the bed. “Nn-….hey” “What?” “Good morning.” “Yeah.” He sluggishly raised up his upper body. Waking up with the blue sky behind him, Tamamori-kun’s eyes were black and wet in the darkness. Yes, black. The blue of the blue sky, which was in his eyes before, was being reflected in my own eyes. Yes, blue. “…….!?” “That…” “!!?” “The eye colour, it changed.” His mouth was slowly spreading. A soundless roar mixed with a scream shook the entire house. This was the morning of the first day of summer vacation. After screaming only once, Tamamori-kun took me out outside with a stubborn and calm attitude. When I asked him where we were going, he only said we were heading west. After arriving at Tokyo station, we boarded on a third-class train bound to Osaka.   The people beside us are talking about their encounters to get over their boredom. Sitting opposite of us were a man with his son watching the scenery pass before them. Their faces were pressed so close against the window it's as if they were about to jump off at any moment. Every time the son stared at me, the father led his attention to outside. I didn’t think it was rude. Because a man having another man wear a collar was strange after all. “Hey, what is this?” “…….” Tamamori-kun wrapped the end of the chain around his arm and crossed his arms tightly. Not even giving a single glance towards me. He was calm earlier, I said, but what is “calm”? “Chained up a mad dog of course.” “Who is a mad dog?” “Is there anyone else here besides you?” “……” “Say Tamamori-kun, you don’t really have any morals.” If I wanted to, I could escape, but I was curious to see the outcome of this nightmare. Did Gulliver feet like that when traveling through foreign countries? I decided to follow his eccentric behaviour. Having said that…… “Why Osaka?” “…..” “ It’s 10 hours away.” “…..” “If you don’t talk I won’t go along with it.” “The rain comes from the west, right? We are going to meet the rain and clouds.” Unfortunately the thunderhead was in the east. Seems like you could only see it from the window from my seat. The train stopped at Yokohama on the way. The man and his son got off. Shortly before they we were separated, the boy presented me a bottle of Ramune. It was still sealed, warmed by the sun and covered with drops of water. The boys said nothing. Tamamori-kun took it instead of me, wiped off the dew and handed it over to me again. “A blessing.” “Thanks.” The train moves with a creaking noise.“I knew this day would come, so I was prepared.” “…” “It’s not you like you could prepare a travel plan immediately.” “It was not a scheduled trip.” “Then what?” “An expedition.” “So you are ready for an honourable defeat too.” He pulled on the collar chain, telling me to be quiet. Seems like I’m being treated like a prisoner. “I’m giving you the Ramune. You like sweet things, don’t you?” “……” “Silent again.” “Please refrain from private talk” “Whoa, such a formal way of speaking.” Tamamori-kun’s impatience is irritating but I don’t really care about it. It's written on his easy readable face. I can also see the anxiety you are trying to hide. Putting my chin on my hands, I gaze lovingly at his profile. We will arrive at Osaka at night. What should we eat then? Why do I want to see your surprised face, when you see something for the first time at this new place? Tamamori-kun surely would be even angrier if I say I enjoyed this journey. The passengers started to close the windows even though there was no tunnel. Tamamori-kun looked at the window and instantly opened his eyes wide. He turned around and I saw a small raindrop on his cheek. Some say it’s called a sun shower. He stood up in a hurry and pulled on my collar and we ran through the crowded train. It was odd that rain was falling even though there was not one cloud in the sky. Something like a fox’s wedding, is what you would normally associate this with. When we entered the train lobby, Tamamori-kun raised his voice at me. “Do something for me!!!” It was a line that would astonish a stranger if they would hear it without knowing the circumstances. “Hurry! Stop the rain-!!!” “Even if I did something for you, it doesn’t mean it would return to you.” “Bastard! Then you’ll be chained up for the rest of your life!” “I’m fine with it.” “Haa!?”The only difference from before is that the chain is now visible. ….However. “Calling me “Bastard”. I hate it when you keep treating me like some stranger.” He touched the tip of his chin and caressed his lips with the thumb. I put this hand back into my hands and opened the Ramune. It made a sound like a steam whistle and it bubbles popped like smoke. “I opened it for you.” “…..!” “You actually wanted to drink it, didn’t you?” Despite being dumbfounded, Tamamori-kun slurped like a stray dog with his food before him. He tore the bottle away from me and drunk it head first. The marble inside moved up and down when he exhaled, the carbonated water was white and tangled. When he finished everything, he nervously opened his tight shut eyes. The blue of the sky. The blue of the water. The blue of the rain. This colour is the one dyeing his eyes whenever I think about him. ….Seems like this feeling of wanting to give it back was successful. And the cost of it is this listlessness that falls onto me. Ha-ah. Are we returning to the unpredictable life where I have to watch his steps in the rain? In contrast, Tamamori-kun’s mood suddenly improved and he gave his unpleasant “Nyaha” laugh. “O-osaka..! When we arrive it will be night, right? Wh-what should we eat then!? First we should do some sightseeing.” “Say, Tamamori-kun.” “You should stop inviting me on rainy days from now on.” I gave him back the collar after removing it. After being freed from this position I returned to my seat alone. 

[cutesilyo]

i know your eyes in the morning sun — an indophil fanfic

When a homesick Indonesia is unexpectedly taken out of his meeting for a day trip in Rome with Philippines, he isn't expecting much more than exhaustion ahead of him. Instead, what happens is a whirlwind of food, fun, and a surprising amount of reflection on their histories and differences as nations. And as he looks deeper and deeper in the other nation's bright eyes, he learns to come to terms with the feelings he's been ignoring for far, far too long.

Alternatively: a nation who's too attached to the past goes on a date with a nation whose entire philosophy is built on trying to live in the moment. Yes, there is kissing involved.

Also available on AO3, FF.net

—

“Tell me why we’re here again,” Indonesia groused.

“Unofficially, it’s because I’m busting you out of that damn meeting.” Philippines grinned, his purple eyes glinting mischievously under Rome’s bright sun. “Officially, it’s because we’re on a date.”

All Indonesia could do was sigh. He had arrived in Italy two days ago for a G20 summit, and all the meetings he’s had to attend since then had left him tired and restless. It would have been easier if it was like a normal ASEAN meeting, where he was at least familiar and friendly with all the members. But in the G20, he was the sole Southeast Asian nation there, and he found it difficult to get a word in everyone else’s chaos. Most of the time, he simply preferred to keep his head down and daydream about going back home.

It was during his third-favorite daydream (a peaceful afternoon at Borobudur, dressed in gold just like the old days) that Philippines had burst through the doors with his perpetually bright eyes and cheeky smile. Before he could even process what was happening, Philippines was happily dragging him out of the room while everybody else waved them goodbye.

And that’s how Indonesia found himself in his current predicament. Outside some random pizzeria in a foreign country, dazed out of his wits, and with the one nation who got under his nerves the easiest.

He really wanted to go home.

“Oh, don’t give me that look!” Philippines patted him on the shoulder with a laugh, and Indonesia couldn’t help but tense uncomfortably. “It's not like this is a real date, I just made up some lame excuse to get them off my back. Besides, you were bored out of your mind there, weren’t you? I bet you weren’t even listening. You were probably thinking about your temples.”

“No,” he denied, but the other nation simply smirked knowingly. He felt his face go red in embarrassment. “Well, can you blame me? I don’t feel right around all those Westerners . . .”

Philippines just laughed at him as they walked in.

There wasn’t much to walk into. It wasn’t a fancy restaurant, but just a small family-owned business that only had two round tables to the side. Other than them, there didn’t seem to be any other customers. Different flavors of pizza were behind glass, oddly rectangular in shape rather than the circular pizzas he was used to seeing in advertisements, but their names and prices went unlabeled. Even if they were, he doubted that it would help him much; while he was steadily getting used to English, the Romance languages were an entirely different matter.

“Buonasera,” the middle-aged woman behind the counter greeted them.

Indonesia could only nod awkwardly in response, but Philippines grinned cheerily. “Buonasera! Ciao bella, come stai?”

The two struck up a light conversation while he tried to decide what kind of pizza to get. He was used to thick-crusted, American-style pizzas, and he really didn’t see the point of eating something so expensive when a good terang bulan was always available. Besides, even if he didn’t particularly like pizza, he could see that the ones available here were an entirely different beast from the ones Pizza Hut sold at home. Much more greens and vegetables, for one.

Indonesia hoped he didn’t look too clueless when Philippines finally turned to ask him what kind of pizza he wanted. He just pointed at a random one and prayed for the best.

The other nation looked amused, but he didn’t comment any further. He just turned back to the woman and presumably rattled off their order in rapid-fire Italian that he could barely catch. They continued their conversation from where they left off, and whatever it was that Philippines was saying, it made the woman blush like a maiden. Suddenly, for a reason that he refused to name, he felt consumed by irritation.

His stony silence continued until the woman had given them their pizza, warm and each slice served in a small tray, and bid them goodbye. He’d barely given them a glance until they sat down on a bench just outside the pizzeria.

“So, what do you think?” Philippines asked him. He seemed more excited than he was. “This is your first, right?”

“I’ve eaten pizza before,” he grumbled.

“But this is different,” the other nation insisted. “This is pizza al taglio, Rome’s specialty! Come on, just start eating it already. I could hear your stomach grumbling since we left the meeting room.”

Indonesia stared at the pizza dubiously, ignoring how quickly Philippines was eating his own slice just beside him, before giving it a bite.

It was . . . good.

Not that he was going to tell the other nation that. He couldn’t bear the smug smirk that would be thrown his way.

Instead, he said, “It’s folded. It’s like a sandwich.”

“Boo,” Philippines stuck his tongue out at him. “If you must know, it’s called panino and it’s a lot better than eating it unfolded.”

“Unfolded,” Indonesia repeated. “You mean, like normal?”

Philippines gasped overdramatically. “I can’t believe you just said that! No, pizza al taglio is supposed to be eaten panino! Just ask Romano, he’ll say it's the best.”

“And I imagine if you ask Italy Veneziano, he’d say the opposite.” He took another bite, careful not to let any of the grease on his hands, and hummed appreciatively. “I think I ordered something different though.”

Philippines just laughed, a bit sheepishly. "I . . . may have taken the liberty of changing your order. The one you pointed at back there had pork sausage slices on it, so I got you something more halal. That one has arugula and mozzarella, and I know you like things a bit spicy, so I asked the lady to give you something more piccante. This slice has pepper flakes baked in the dough."

"Oh," he blinked, a bit stunned. Indonesia felt warmer than the pizza in his hands. "Terima kasih."

"Hey, as long as you're here with me, ako bahala sa'yo." Philippines stood up and grinned at him, eyes bright and his half-eaten pizza in his hand. "You know, the best thing about pizza panino is that you can eat them while we're on the go! How about we walk around the city, and I'll take you out on a real date?"

------

This was a mistake.

He and Philippines have never really hung out together much; either they only met for formal occasions or they were always joined by at least one other ASEAN member, so the chances they had to be alone were usually few and far in between. If he was being honest, it was probably better for his heart that way.

Still, he probably should've known better than to let Philippines take charge, because his definition of walking around and the other nation's idea of walking around were vastly different things. For one, he'd definitely rather be driving rather than walking anyway. It didn't help that he was still stuck in his stuffy formal suit and dress shoes, while Philippines was both comfy and stylish in his boots, jeans, and a fashionable overcoat. And though he preferred to get to his destinations as quickly and efficiently as possible, Philippines loved making stops at every little statue or shop that interested him. What's worse is that he couldn't just leave the other nation behind — between the two of them, Philippines was the only one who actually knew how to speak Italian and knew how to get around the city. His only choices were to suffer alone in a foreign land or to slowly murder his feet following Philippines around, and just this once, he'd rather swallow his pride.

"If only my motorcycle was here . . ." Indonesia sighed. "How long are you going to take?"

"Just a bit longer!" He heard Philippines shout from the back of the souvenir shop. "My neighbors would never forgive me if I didn't get them anything, you know!"

He was idly inspecting a small plastic replica of the Coliseum when the other nation emerged a few minutes later, proudly carrying about a dozen silver keychains in his hands. Indonesia couldn't stop himself from grimacing at them; in rupiahs, that was probably the cost of a plane ticket.

"You aren't going to buy anything?" Philippines said. He was fiddling around his pockets for spare coins. He seemed to have forgotten that his wallet was probably in the small leather bag he was carrying, and Indonesia didn't feel like telling him.

"Pass," he said. "I'll wait outside, if you don't mind."

Philippines shrugged, turning back to the cashier. "Suit yourself."

As soon as he stepped out into the cobblestone streets, he immediately felt restless for a smoke. The architecture, the weather, the people . . . it all just reminded him how far away from home he was. It was autumn in Italy, colder than it would ever get at his house, and with a sharp pang of his heart he realized how much he missed everyone.

He started worrying about whether Singapore had gotten enough sleep last night, because often the young nation would look at data until the sun rose, looking for where he could make himself stronger. And Malaysia got dehydrated too easily for someone with his water resources, so he always had to remind him about refilling his water dispensers every once and a while. Brunei had always been quiet, but he'd been too reclusive than was healthy these days; and even though Timor-Leste couldn't face him sometimes, he still hoped she was doing alright. He trusted Thailand and Vietnam could handle everything over at the mainland, but he couldn't help but be concerned about them anyway.

Then there was the nation he was with right now.

All of a sudden, he felt a warm breath on his neck and a whispered: "You're scaring the other tourists, mahal."

Indonesia barely held back a scream, furiously turning to face a mirthful Philippines that was clearly having the time of his life teasing him. "Would you stop scaring me like that? And don't call me mahal!"

Philippines just waved him off with a laugh. "Please, that was barely a scare. And you deserve it! I thought the way you kept staring at my bag was weird, but you meant to tell me my money was in it, right? Silly Indonesia, I can't know things if you don't actually say it."

"Don't blame me for your denseness," he shot back. "Besides, your idea of a date must be really sloppy if all you do is take me to tourist shops. Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"Are you saying you wanted something more romantic? Oh Indonesia, how bold of you!" Philippines looked at him slyly.

He was suddenly reminded of how difficult it could be to talk to Philippines sometimes. "I just thought you'd take me to actual places, like the Coliseum. Or maybe a castle, I don't know."

They walked together in amiable silence towards a nearby bus stop. He almost cried in relief when they finally sat down after what felt like hours of walking. Maybe Indonesia was just feeling his age, but he was not nearly as full of energy as the nation beside him.

"I know you've been to the Coliseum before, so taking you there isn't nearly as exciting," said Philippines, absentmindedly scrolling on his phone. "Just so you know."

"Everything always has to be exciting for you," said Indonesia, with a huff.

The other nation winked at him. "What can I say? I love a little thrill."

He couldn't help but be amused at that. Whether it was thrill rides or thriller horror movies, Philippines was always raring to go. Still, though he was grateful, he was starting to feel a bit guilty about all the trouble he put the other nation through. He knew Philippines could be impulsive, but he didn't think he was the kind of person to drop everything and fly to Europe just to rescue him from another boring meeting. "I've been meaning to ask, but how did you end up in Italy anyway? I'd hate to think that you spent so much money just to go here."

"Don't worry! I didn't come to Europe for you," Philippines grinned brightly. "You're just a stop on the destination. I'm actually headed to Munich."

Ah. For some reason, that only made Indonesia feel worse.

"See, when I'm in Europe, I like to start by visiting the Vatican," the other nation continued. "Then Germany said that he had a meeting in Rome too, so we were planning to catch the train together. Didn't you notice that he was rushing to end your meetings as quickly as possible? It's Oktoberfest, you know."

Indonesia nodded slowly. "I guess September does end next week . . . ?"

"Dios mio," Philippines laughed. "I mean the beer festival, not the month. I'd invite you to join us but I know you don't drink."

"Even if I did, I don't think I could keep up with you and Germany," he admitted, which made the other nation's eyes twinkle with pride. "That still doesn't explain why you decided to crash the meeting."

"That's just because you weren't checking WhatsApp, which I'm grateful for." Philippines handed him his phone, which was opened to the group conversation they had with the rest of the ASEAN nations. "Here, I bet you left your phone at the hotel or something."

He did, but that was beside the point. Indonesia took the phone.

The first thing he saw was a selfie of Philippines at the airplane, snuggled up under the airline's provided blanket. Just boarded from Dubai! Be arriving at Fiumicino by morning, anything you guys want?

Abang is in Rome too, isn't he? Malaysia had asked. In that case, the both of you should bring back gifts! I need the best cheese for my sea cucumbers. Also, remember the keychains.

Singapore had sent one of his custom stickers. The merlion was sticking its tongue out.

Stop being so mean to him, or else he'll end up crying to me again, Thailand replied.

Not my problem he's a crybaby, Singapore said. Then he sent another merlion sticker.

Vietnam sent a laughing emoji, and then: You should visit Indo while you're there. You know how sad he gets when he has to go abroad alone.

Malaysia sent a GIF of a crying scene from some old movie.

Eh? But if I'm going to visit him, I want it to be a surprise! Philippines had whined. If he goes online soon, he'll already know. No fun in that.

It should be okay. He's probably asleep now anyway. And he doesn't check his phone during meetings, unlike you, Thailand pointed out.

It will be good for him to see a friendly face, Vietnam added.

Take care of him lah, Singapore had said. Make sure he enjoys himself this time.

PIRI WAIT I HAVE A GREAT IDEA, chatted Malaysia. I'll DM you just in case, so abang can't find out. He'll love it, trust me!

Oh no, said Vietnam, Thailand, and Singapore in separate, individual messages, to which Malaysia simply replied with another GIF. Brunei even mustered the energy to send a worried-looking emoji.

The last message, sent earlier this afternoon, was a selfie of Philippines with a cheeky grin. He was standing just outside the meeting room, and he had sent it with the caption: He won't know what hit him! <3

Indonesia sat there in stunned silence for a few minutes, until he was nudged gently.

"Come on, the bus is here," Philippines stood, putting his hands on his hips. Then he frowned at him. "Hey, Indonesia, is there anything wrong? You look a bit shaken."

"No, everything's fine, I just," he stammered. There was such a powerful feeling in his heart that he didn't have the capacity to explain. "Um, I don't have my phone with me, so. Please thank everyone for keeping me in their thoughts. Tell them I'm doing my best to make all of you proud."

The other nation stared at him for a moment, then smiled.

If Indonesia let a few tears drop while they were on the bus, Philippines was kind enough not to say a word.

-----

Their stop was on top of a hill. There was an impressively large monument of a man on a horse, but Philippines dragged him to the nearby café as soon as they got off the bus, and Indonesia realized that he was probably better off with a nice snack than looking at some old statue anyway. To be fair, he had been waiting for dessert all day long, and the crepes were warm and delicious and more than enough to satisfy his sweet tooth. He finished his in record time, and bought another one right after.

"Ah, there's that smile," Philippines teased, once Indonesia had returned to their spot. "I was wondering where it went."

He was too engrossed with his enjoying his food to respond, but he motioned go on.

"It's just—I've seen you with tourists, you know." Philippines delicately sipped on his drink, slow and careful like an old cat. "Remember when we had that ASEAN hang-out at Bali? The restaurant near our hotel was full of foreign customers, and the staff was overwhelmed, so you decided to help the staff serve tables and entertain the guests. You seemed really friendly there."

"You knew about that?" Indonesia flushed with embarrassment. He thought he managed to sneak out successfully; it was at the point that Vietnam and Laos got crazy drunk, after all. "Well, it's very different dealing with foreigners at my home and actually being in a foreign place."

Philippines hummed contemplatively. "I think I get it. You feel more in control when it's them coming to you, rather than the other way around."

"Yeah, I suppose so." He crumpled the wrapping paper in his hands. "It's different for you though, right? I think you're more used to foreigners than I am."

The other nation laughed nervously. "I'm not sure Boracay and El Nido can even compare—"

"I'm not talking about tourists."

He knew, of course, that Philippines met with many nations as part of his duties, but he had always taken to this role so naturally that Indonesia could only assume that his history had given him a leg up. Spain was stricter on imposing his culture on the other nation than Netherlands ever was with him, or England with Malaysia and Singapore. America was just as obnoxiously stubborn when he colonized him right after. And although he never forgot his roots as part of Southeast Asia, Philippines also kept much less of his pre-colonial culture and history than the rest of them. Anything before Spain took him away was hazy and, as far as his memory was concerned, he had spent his youth growing up with the Americas and Europe — and with his mannerisms and how close he was with the Western nations, he certainly acted like it.

When Philippines arrived at the meeting earlier, everyone was accepting him with open arms. Spain had fondly ruffled his hair and America invited him to a party at his place next week. France had cooed adoringly at how much he had grown since his youth and England reminded him that he was due to visit London's hospitals in the next month. Germany's cheeks were pink as he asked how he was doing and Italy immediately began talking his ear off about food recipes and restaurants. Mexico began crying with joy at the sight of him, while Argentina and Brazil embraced him like family. It was a miracle that the both of them were able to leave as quickly as they did; he was sure that they'd make Philippines stay for at least another hour, if they could.

Meanwhile, Indonesia's own presence was always forgotten. The only time he was talked to the entire meeting was when Australia made an awkward half-joke, half-apology about the spying issue again.

"I guess it's easier for me to relate to them," Philippines admitted, a melancholy look in his eyes. He was looking down at his still half-eaten crepe with an oddly bittersweet smile on his lips; the sun, only just beginning to set, cast a dark shadow on his face. "And for them to relate to me. But I would be lying if I said I don't feel out of place with them too, sometimes. Despite everything, we're still very different. Besides, all the cultural similarities in the world can't make up for the fact that I'm so far away from them all. There just isn't enough opportunity for me to talk to them as much as they can talk to each other."

Indonesia didn't know what to say to that. He settled for a neutral, "I'm sorry I brought it up."

The other nation waved it off. "I'll forgive you if you take a selfie with me later."

He didn't have any choice but to accept.

As he waited for Philippines to finish his food, Indonesia took the time to observe the other people around. Many of them were trying to take a picture with the huge statue, but there were also families walking around with their happily enthusiastic children. If he looked farther, he could see busts of what he assumed were various historical figures lining the pathways. Going by the number of cars that had been parked just across them, it seemed like the park was of good interest for both tourists and locals alike. There were enough people to suggest that the place was well-loved, but there were nowhere near the crowds he'd see when he passed by the other popular tourist destinations. The statue of the man with a horse was large and grand, but he didn't recognize it; he was sure that, whatever this place was, it wasn't featured on the usual travel brochures.

"I'm curious," he said slowly, "as to why you're so familiar with Rome."

Philippines gave him a wry twitch of the lips, sitting his chin on the palm of his hands. "I thought we were done talking about me and the West?"

"This is different," he defended. "I'm just asking why you know about this place. Italy never took us anywhere like this for the G20 formalities."

"Well, of course he wouldn't," he said, idly swirling his drink around. "Just think: if you have a nice and peaceful park that's meant more for relaxation and you also have more famous and historically significant places available, then you would rather take your visiting diplomats to the latter, right? So Italy takes you to Palatino and Campidoglio instead of here. If it were you hosting the meeting, you'd take them to Monas instead of Taman Surapati."

Indonesia thought about that for a moment, but no matter how much he wanted to argue, he was forced to accept that Philippines was right. Then he frowned. "But you just take everyone to Luneta."

The other nation winked. "It's to my benefit that Luneta just happens to be both historical, relaxing, and beautiful. Makes my life a lot easier."

"You're not actually answering my question," he pointed out.

Philippines simply hummed, leaning back on his chair. His hair was blowing in the cold autumn breeze. "There's not much to say. I've had to visit a lot recently, since Italy is full of my migrant workers, more so than anywhere else in Europe. But when we were younger, Romano used to take me here often. The things he'd say — well, now that I think about it, I think you could relate."

He almost choked on his spit. Indonesia had never been in much contact with Romano, especially as his younger brother was always the one who represented Italy in their meetings, but he couldn't see any similarity between him and that foul-mouthed, angry brat. At the very least, he liked to think he was much more friendly and polite.

Uncharacteristically, the other nation didn't take the opportunity to laugh at him this time. Instead there was only a faraway look on his face, pensive as he stared out into somewhere unknown.

After a moment, Philippines finally said: "Do you still remember being with your old empires?"

Indonesia stilled.

"I know I don't, but you were old enough to remember living with the other maritime nations together as Nusantara," the other nation continued. "There was a glory that you could remember living before Portugal and Netherlands came to your shores. You weren't Majapahit, but you carried his legacy and his blood; just like you carried Srivijaya's.

"Romano lived at Spain's like I did, you know. He liked me for some reason, probably because I used to get sick all the time and couldn't really annoy him as much as the others. One day, he took me to Rome for the first time. I was so amazed at finally seeing all the old ruins I used to read about in books, and then when I looked back at him, he was crying. He told me it was like he could never escape the shadow of his grandfather."

Philippines' smile was terribly bittersweet. "I remember thinking that, for the first time, I was grateful I couldn't remember who I was before Spain came. And ever since I met you again, I kept wondering if you ever felt like Romano did. Maybe you had all that burden on you and you never told us. Maybe you felt lonely too."

He remembered.

Back when all of them were just children, back when he had never seen fair skin except for when he traded with the Eastern Asian nations up north. China and India, of course, were always present. Vietnam was older, and despite all the fighting she did, it never looked like she was ever frazzled by it. Myanmar was the same, but because he was so distant and preoccupied with his own kingdoms, Indonesia saw him the least. He would see Khmer more often when she had to pick up her sons, cheerful Thailand, friendly Laos, and belligerent Cambodia, from whenever they decided to come by. In their household, Malaysia was already energetic, but he was always doubly so whenever Singapore was around; those were the days that the smaller nation still admired his brother. Timor Leste was still sweet and shy, hiding behind him at every hint of danger. Brunei, quiet as ever, spent his time diligently picking flowers for a young Philippines across the sea. Steady, dependable Majapahit had welcomed them all with a smile, and taught him to do the same.

Indonesia grew up without ever really knowing what loneliness was. Even after Majapahit had already faded away, Netherlands had visited him much more often than was necessary or appropriate for a normal colonial relationship. And though he was separated from the rest of them, his siblings were never too far from him either.

So he had to take care of them too, when he could. He had to, because he was the one who remembered the most about what life was like, before. He had to, because he was the oldest. He had to, because that was what Majapahit taught him. Whether he began to feel more and more weary as the centuries passed by and his own territory expanded didn't matter, because being able to take care of as many people as he could — that was the greatest power any nation could ever have.

Of course he remembered. He never let himself forget.

A gentle nudge from Philippines shook him out of his silence. Softly, he said, "You don't have to answer that if it makes you uncomfortable. Believe it or not, even I know when to back off."

"Sorry, you just caught me off-guard," he said, taking a moment to compose himself. Then Indonesia sighed. "You're not normally so serious. I was completely unprepared."

Philippines pouted. "Is it really all that surprising? I just thought, since you asked me a pretty personal question just now, it's only fair that I do the same to you. Answering that made me feel sad, so you needed to think of something that made you sad too! At least the both of us can feel sad together, instead of just me being sad all on my own."

Indonesia felt his eye twitch. "Your logic is really something."

The other nation just laughed, as if nothing happened at all. Then he stood, his grin wide and his hand reaching out to him, and said, "Come on, it's a complete waste for us to come here if all we're going to do is sit around! You can see all of Rome from Gianicolo, you know."

They watched the sunset from the hill's peak, and seeing the yellows and oranges being reflected in Philippines' purple eyes made for a pretty sight. As the sun shone its last light on the ancient ruins of the Roman Empire, Indonesia felt strangely at peace for the first time since he arrived. Maybe he'd even ask Philippines to properly introduce him to Romano one day.

-----

The Eternal City was beautiful even at night, but Indonesia just felt tired. He could sense that Philippines still wanted to go around with him — he mentioned something about taking him to a turtle fountain? — so they settled for slowly walking down the hill. They chatted about mundane things like food, gaming, and the merits of motorcycles over bikes, and it was unexpectedly nice. For some reason, Indonesia felt as light as air. He still wanted to go home as soon as he could, but he slowly realized that he wasn't all that opposed to just spending time with the other nation either.

"Say, Indonesia," Philippines suddenly said. "Do you know how to get back to your hotel?"

Indonesia took that back. He wanted to go home immediately.

The other nation giggled. "Don't tell me that you don't even remember which hotel you're staying at?"

He quickly turned his head away. He willed himself to look anywhere but the other nation, but he could still feel how Philippines was staring at him.

"Ah! I get it now," Philippines said, delightedly. Indonesia internally cursed himself. "Let me guess. You didn't have any plans of going anywhere but the meeting, the hotel, and the airport, so you thought it was fine if you left your phone behind and if you didn't care to remember your hotel's name. And, you kept falling asleep at the hotel shuttle that takes you to the meetings, so you can't even tell me about the nearby landmarks! My, how careless of you, Indonesia!"

"Why are you so smart," Indonesia grumbled, "for the most stupid of things?"

"I don't hear any denial," Philippines sang. "Well, whatever, that works out for me. Unless you're game for scouring through the dozens of hotels around the city, I guess I have no choice but to take you back to my place, huh?"

He faced Philippines, who was scrolling through his phone again, and said, "You don't have to do that. You can probably just ask Italy which hotel he arranged for me. I can take a taxi."

The other nation hummed. "Going from his Instagram stories, he looks like he's too busy partying with the others. Looks like France even brought out his special wine for the occasion. Hey, would you want to party with them? The bar they went to is just a few stations away by metro."

The last time he went to a G20 party, he and Germany were made to strip so that everyone could stare at their pecs. The expression he made must have been grim, as Philippines immediately backtracked. "I'm going to take that as a no."

Indonesia sighed. "Well, I don't want to disturb Italy and I don't want to waste any money trying to find another hotel. If you're really fine with me staying with you for the night, then I guess I have no problem with it either."

Philippines stopped in his tracks. "Eh? You're not going to make a fuss about it?"

Indonesia tilted his head, quizzically. "And you are?"

For some odd reason, the other nation seemed flustered. He was gripping the strap of his bag tightly and his cheeks were pink. "Well, you know, you're normally so averse to any of my ideas, and you always seem so annoyed with me. I thought, for sure, that you were just going to argue against me again . . ."

"Do you really think so lowly of me?" Indonesia frowned. "I wouldn't have been with you all day if I hated you."

That seemed to perk Philippines back up. He could practically see the sparkles in the other nation's eyes as he faced him and gleefully said, "Ha! You've admitted it! So if you don't hate me, does that mean that you actually like me, Indonesia?"

He couldn't hold back a smirk. "Don't get too ahead of yourself."

Philippines just laughed, cheery and bright.

When they stepped down from the bus, Indonesia was surprised to be faced with a block full of old apartment buildings rather than a fancy hotel. Evidently, the other nation was familiar to the residents; one old lady had grasped him firmly by the hand with a gummy smile as she engaged them in small talk. Philippines then took him to the second building on the right and led him through a few flights of stairs to a dark, wooden door.

The apartment was small but clean. Two bedrooms and a bathroom, then some communal space with a worn sofa and a dated television. There was a kitchen with a countertop, rice cooker unplugged, and more than a few succulents sitting by the window. The other nation's usual travel bag was still on the floor, a duffel bag easily recognizable by the numerous flag patches stitched by the sides as a memento for all the countries he had visited. A small corner was developed into a personal home altar, figures of Jesus and the Virgin Mary surrounded by flowers and golden crosses. Even though it was emptier than Philippines' own home back in Manila, it was still undeniably his in its coziness and warmth. All in all, it was modest and good; certainly more than what Indonesia expected for an apartment that the other nation probably only visited a few times a year.

"It's cute. It fits you," he said politely.

"Aw, you think I'm cute," Philippines teased. He was hanging his overcoat on the coat rack, which was a bit too tall for him — a sliver of skin showed only for a moment before being covered again by his turtleneck top. Indonesia pretended he didn't see. "Please go ahead and sit down, make yourself comfortable. Oh, won’t you take off your suit and place it somewhere? The good thing about Europe is that it’s a lot cooler here, so you can still wear it tomorrow without worrying about sweat and stuff."

“I knew that, at least.” He placed his suit on a nearby chair and sat down on the sofa. Philippines set a saucer full of biscuits at the table and gave him a glass of water, which he gratefully drank. As the other nation sat down beside him, Indonesia couldn’t help but ask, “Is this place really yours?”

“My government didn’t buy it for me like all our other properties, if that’s what you’re asking,” Philippines said, reaching out for the biscuits. There was an audible crunch as he bit into one of them. “One of the Filipinos living here bought it for her son, but he decided to move in with his girlfriend. She thought it would be a waste of money to abandon it, so she gave it to me. When I’m not here, it gets rented as an Airbnb. We share the profits. It’s actually pretty good passive income, you know.”

Indonesia gave him a wry smile. “You always find an opportunity to make money, somehow. I’d say it’s America’s influence, but I know for a fact you’ve been this way since we were kids.”

"My skill is all mine, thank you very much," the other nation boasted, leaning back into the sofa with a self-assured smirk. “I don't suppose there's anything else you remember about me from those days? I assure you, if you thought I inherited my charm from Spain, you'd be dead wrong.”

Your hair used to be so long, he immediately thought. He had taken care of it meticulously, washing it with several oils so it was always smooth and wonderfully scented. Gold adorned almost every inch of his body, painstakingly crafted with the tiniest details, contrasting beautifully with the vibrant textiles used for his clothes. Even as a child, Philippines was already used to traveling often — Tondo and Seludong would take him up north, Butuan and Sulu down south, Sugbu and Panay at the center, and a dozen more kingdoms in between. He loved his boats the most, and Majapahit would patiently humor him by letting the younger nation talk his ear off about the latest developments his different kingdoms had with their boatmaking.

Not that he had ever tried to listen in, or attempted to make prolonged conversation with the other nation. At the time, Indonesia was too busy trying to handle Malaysia and Singapore’s chaos to pay much attention to anyone else. He hadn’t gotten to know Philippines all that well until they met again centuries later; older and more jaded, irrevocably shaped by the circumstances their colonizers had placed them in.

Sometimes he wondered what life would have been like if things had turned out differently. But he didn’t have the energy to waste his time despairing over it all again, not when Philippines was still looking at him so expectantly.

“Your eyes haven’t changed,” Indonesia decided to say. “And as for everything else I remember, there’s nothing I haven’t already told you about before.”

Philippines smiled at him fondly, “You’re as terribly succinct as ever.”

Indonesia smiled back, “And as always, you’re just as annoyingly persistent.”

For a long moment, they just sat there on the sofa in silence — easy and comfortable and bathed in the apartment’s warm, golden light. The windows were open, and guitar music from the neighbors was softly permeating the room with its slow, relaxed melody. It was during these kinds of moments that Indonesia's heart felt full; that all he's been through in the past few centuries were worth it, if it meant he could enjoy more days like this. The mood was right and he felt good; perhaps if he was braver, he would have had the confidence to make the most out of it.

Eventually, the moment passed, and the other nation stood. "It's so late already! I should probably get to preparing our dinner. You can freshen up before we eat, if you want."

"Right," Indonesia said, hastily standing up as well. "Ah, may I borrow your phone? I just need to check on something."

Philippines didn't really answer, but he heartily belted out the lyrics to some old love song as he brought out a pot and a chopping board from the kitchen cabinets, so he took it as a yes. Ignoring how the photo for the lock screen looked suspiciously like the sunrise at Bali, he put in the PIN code — 8862, how sentimental of him — and was immediately bombarded by the number of notifications he got. There were messages from everywhere: SMS, Facebook Messenger, WhatsApp, Instagram, Twitter, Telegram . . . it's really no wonder that Philippines was named both the texting and social media capital of the world. Indonesia had no interest in intruding on the other nation's privacy though. As he ducked into the bathroom to wash his face, hands, and feet, he did a quick Google search for sholat times rome.

If he was home, he wouldn't have needed to Google such a thing; the mosques would have already blared adzan through the loudspeakers, reminding everyone in close vicinity that it was time for prayer. His overseas workers would sometimes complain to him about how difficult it could be to pray once they were abroad, that strangers would sometimes gawk at them in public or their employers wouldn't give them the time or space to do it properly in the office. Indonesia often had nothing to offer them but his sympathies. Tonight, he decided, he would pray for them.

"Are you going to pray?" Philippines called out. He was placing a tray in the oven. "Head to the back, go in the room on the right. It should be peaceful there."

"Thank you," he said, and when he opened the door, he was greeted with a welcome surprise.

Though the room was otherwise plain, a vibrantly orange prayer mat stood out — Malaysia's picking, no doubt. Indonesia raised his hands facing kiblat, slow and reverent, and made the mental note to thank his brother later. Thanks to this, he felt significantly less alone.

-----

Philippines made a quick sign of the cross as he sat down on the table. He grinned, "Let's eat!"

It was a modest meal: baked fish with lemons, Filipino-style chop suey, white rice, and a bowl of what was unmistakably Indomie Mi Goreng. While Philippines had poured out a glass of white wine for himself, Indonesia had a glass of orange juice. The other nation was uncharacteristically quiet throughout the meal, though Indonesia chalked that up to hunger; Philippines ate quickly and ravenously, shoving spoonfuls of rice and noodles into his mouth without pausing for so much as a single breath. Indonesia felt tired just watching him.

Once they were finished, Philippines patted his stomach with a satisfied sigh. "Ah, that's the good stuff."

"My compliments to the chef," Indonesia said, which made the other nation giggle. "Though I have to say, I would have cooked it differently."

"I know, but then it'd take longer and I was already so hungry — I'd even go as far to say that I was absolutely famished." Philippines groaned, slumping in his seat. "I mean, I know we could've just eaten at some trattoria down the road, but I needed rice. And I wasn't going to settle for some dumb risotto, no matter how delicious it would be. You get me, don't you?"

"It isn't a full meal without rice," Indonesia agreed.

The other nation nodded seriously. "I always felt like something was missing while I was growing up. It wasn't until I was allowed to go back to Manila that I figured out that it was rice. I haven't looked back since."

Indonesia had always known that Philippines had lived in Europe during the centuries that he was a Spanish colony, but hadn't thought any deeper about the smaller implications that had on him. Some things were obvious — his devout Catholicism for one, and the conspicuously Hispanic human name he used in his daily life — but little things like this caught him off-guard. He said, "I'm sincerely very sorry to hear that."

Philippines did nothing but take a long sip of his wine. "No need to pity me so much, it's in the past now. I don't really think about it."

"I'm not pitying you," he muttered, though he wasn't able to look Philippines in the eyes as he said it. Then, louder: "I'm just realizing that there's still so much I don't know about you. I'm your neighbor, and I don't even know what your childhood was like."

Philippines smiled at him, but it was strained. His face was saying I don't want to talk about it even as he softly confessed, "I don't know all about your history either, Indonesia. Not enough. The sentiment goes both ways. And as for my time with Spain . . . well, what is there to say, really? He said he would take care of me, and he didn't. Not in the same way he took care of the others. Whether that's a blessing or a curse, I don't think I'll ever really know. I just know that it's over now, and I'm grateful.

"I bet your experience was different though." The gaze the other nation leveled on him was nothing less than dangerously curious. His purple eyes were filled with strong contempt, but contempt for what, Indonesia didn't know. "Like I said, I don't know the specifics. But I've been told your relationship with Netherlands was something else entirely."

"He and I weren't—" he stammered, more of a knee-jerk reaction than anything else.

But the way Philippines was looking at him made him stop. He took a deep breath and calmed himself; the other nation deserved something more honest than that.

He still remembered how tightly Netherlands had gripped at his arm, decades and decades ago, his scarf flapping helplessly in the wind. Despite all the things that had gone unsaid between them and the years that they spent together, the blond was still unbearably silent. He used to admire that stoic demeanor; tried to emulate it when he was feeling overwhelmed, always so determined not to embarrass himself or the empire. Back when Netherlands had declared him the emerald of the equator, the crown jewel of his power as a nation . . . it had taken all he had to choke back his pride. It had taken all he had to keep his secret, that budding idea that he was meant to be more than just somebody else's precious colony.

Indië, Netherlands had pleaded, and suddenly the great Dutch Empire had seemed so small.

"It was different," he finally said. "But I don't think it was any better, in the end."

With a bittersweet smile, Philippines simply raised a toast. "To tomorrow."

In answer, Indonesia downed the rest of his orange juice in one go. This time, Philippines' laugh was more genuine, and he couldn't help but stare.

He had noticed this before, of course, but now — with the other nation elegantly sitting across him, his purple eyes glittering bright, and the wine glass so tantalizingly close to his lips — Indonesia was stricken by how right at home the other nation looked. Even Singapore, who probably had the most business with the Western countries out of them all, was more guarded whenever he stepped foot on European soil. Yet Philippines wasn't out of place here in the same way that Indonesia felt, and had instead carried the same easygoing attitude he had during their own ASEAN meetings. As much as the other nation's energy and eccentricities irked him sometimes, he also found himself in awe of him as well.

The others were right. If Philippines hadn't come, he would've spent all his free time wallowing around in his hotel room just feeling sorry for himself. But instead, he was enjoying himself more than he thought he would. Hesitant as he was to admit it, he almost found himself wanting to stay in Rome a little bit longer, if it meant the both of them could spend more time together.

"You're not leaving for Munich anytime soon, are you?" Indonesia said, daring to be hopeful.

Philippines rested his cheek on his hand. "If I remember right, the tickets Prussia bought for us were for tomorrow morning? He gets way too excited about Oktoberfest, you know."

Why do I even try to be happy, Indonesia thought darkly.

"Ah, don't look so glum! You have me all to yourself for the rest of the night," Philippines winked. "But I have to warn you, Pien is having his precious beauty sleep in my bedroom, so if you have any special requests we're going to have to be very quiet about it."

"Nothing like that," Indonesia quickly said, his face hot. "I just thought, I might as well treat you to somewhere nice. As a thank you for, uh, taking care of me today. But my flight back home is tomorrow night, and you're catching the morning train with Germany, and now I'm starting to think that we don't exactly have the time . . ."

The other nation waved it off. "We're nations, mahal. We have all the time in the world. Besides, we'll be meeting again for the APEC conference coming up in November, right? I don't mind waiting until then."

"But I do," he grumbled. "And again, don't call me mahal."

Philippines finished his drink and set his glass delicately on the table. "You can promise me that you'll let me sing half the songs when we go karaoke with the others. Or that you'll pay for my food the next time we have a group dinner. Oh! When Thailand makes a mean comment to me in the next meeting, you have to defend me. Say something like Filipino BL series are better than Thai BL series, that'll really get him going."

He was suddenly reminded of how frivolous the other nation could be sometimes. Either that, or worryingly low-maintenance. Indonesia built up the courage and forced out, "I'd rather make it up to you when the two of us are alone."

This time, it was Philippines who was staring. Flustered, Indonesia rambled on. "I just mean—you know, you spent all this time with me even though you didn't have to. So it's only right that I spend more time with you too, just the both of us. It's not good enough if the others are there too."

Philippines offered, "We could watch a movie before we sleep?"

"I'll probably just pass out in the middle."

"Maybe you can make breakfast for us tomorrow?"

"You gave me snacks, dinner, and a place to sleep, there's no way just a breakfast is fair."

"Well, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to spend a night over at your place?"

"It's not about you, not really. It's just, I want to do something for you. Something you want."

"I've been telling you what I want, but you keep saying it's not good enough, I don't understand—"

"It needs to be special, okay? Is it so bad that I want to do something nice for you—"

"It's not bad, I just don't get why you're being so picky about it. Like, isn't doing me a favor enough for you? Isn't this just about paying me back? What is it that you want to do with me exactly?"

"No," Indonesia stressed, feeling like he was about to lose his mind. "I want—"

He paused.

What did he want, exactly?

Philippines just smiled at him, patient and knowing and just the slightest bit sad, and stood. He was carrying his plate, and as he passed by Indonesia he gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. When Indonesia looked up to face him, the other nation's eyes were soft. "I know I've said this to you before, but I'll say it again. I can't know things if you don't actually say it. Alright?"

Then he walked away to the kitchen sink, absentmindedly humming to himself, leaving Indonesia all alone at the table. The words I think I want you died on his lips.

-----

Later, after reflecting during his night bath, Indonesia found himself in a panic.

He wasn't a complete idiot. He's known for a while that Philippines was the only one who could fluster him like no other, but he often chalked that up to the other nation's cheeky character rather than anything else. His attraction to Philippines wasn't surprising either; it was no secret that he liked looking pretty, and to be honest, Indonesia has had worse crushes. But he was also steadily coming to the conclusion that his feelings went deeper than mere infatuation, and he couldn't help but wonder: why fall for the other nation in particular?

Philippines was an ally, someone he had founded and managed ASEAN with in a show of regional strength. Philippines was a friend, someone he had spent countless days with over the years along with all the other people he treasured in his life. Philippines was a stranger, someone who still felt so foreign to him despite everything. He could trace out the curve of his smile in an instant, and at the same time, he didn't have the faintest idea what the other nation was doing in the 1920s. He knew that watching a cheesy romcom was the surest way of brightening up his day, but not the exact nature of what Spain had done to him as a colony. And, for the life of him, he still didn’t understand the slightest bit of how verb conjugation in Tagalog worked — which felt especially embarrassing the day he found out that Philippines had been putting in the effort to learn both Bahasa Indonesia and Bahasa Melayu so he could communicate with the rest of the maritime nations better. He'd understand his own heart easier if he fell for Malaysia or even Netherlands — people who he had shared a deep and culturally signifcant history with in his extremely long life as a nation — but Philippines was, to put it sadly, not like that to him.

And yet, as Indonesia stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, all he could think about was how much happier he looked now compared to his bleak and boring morning.

He changed into the clothes that Philippines had laid out for him on the bed and had a brief thought of just going to sleep for the night. Pramoedya, if he were still alive, would chide him for such cowardice. Indonesia ended up at the other nation's door, nervously trying to build up the courage to knock. But Philippines must have heard his footsteps, as he called out: "I know you're out there! Just come in!"

Just like him, Philippines had already bathed and changed to more casual sleepwear; he was wearing a loose sweater and shorts that showed off his legs. He was sitting upright on his bed, looking amused at whatever he was staring at on his phone screen, and his face broke out into a warm smile when he saw Indonesia hesitantly trudge inside his bedroom. Pien was already sound asleep in a little makeshift bed on the desk.

"Sit here," said Philippines, while he scooted over to give him space. Indonesia gave him a look. "I'm being serious. Just move your arms a bit and—yeah, that's it. Aren't we cozy?"

Now they were both sitting on the bed, with Philippines between his legs and his arms around Philippines' waist. Cozy was certainly a word for it.

"Now you're just teasing me," Indonesia grumbled, but he didn't move away either.

"Me? Tease you?" Philippines fluttered his eyelashes at him. "Why, I'm just a poor tropical nation made to suffer through the unbearably cold Autumn months in the Northern Hemisphere! I'm severely in need of some aid and assistance, but I'm sure you and all your hundred active volcanoes can keep me warm for tonight."

"You're horrible, you know that?" he said, though he was unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. Philippines laughed with him, giddy and gleeful. "You don't know how anxious I was before this. It's not fair that you can just make all that go away so easily."

Philippines leaned back on his chest, smug as a cat. "Call it a gift. By the way, our neighbors want to know how you're doing. Anything you want to say?"

Now that he was right behind the other nation, he could see that his phone was opened to the ASEAN group chat. It seemed like everyone was spamming the chat with pictures of their pets again. Indonesia rested his chin on Philippines' shoulder and said, "I'm doing just fine. Tell them I mean it this time."

If the other nation was flustered, he betrayed no signs of it. He had now moved on to chatting with the other ex-Spanish colonies; they were all talking in Spanish and Indonesia couldn't understand a thing. "I'll tell them when I'm sure it won't get buried by everything else. But, you know, that's really good to hear. My influence, I hope."

Indonesia buried his face in Philippines' neck as an answer.

"So needy," Philippines murmured, who had put his phone down to pat his head. "Perhaps you really were lonely?"

"Not as lonely as you used to be, I think." At this, Philippines stilled. Indonesia tightened his hold on the other nation's slim waist even further, almost afraid that he would drift away. "About that question you asked, earlier at the cafe . . . I don't feel burdened by how great my old empires were. I've felt the pressure to make them proud, but I've never felt like it was a burden. Their legacy is my life and my connections to all of you, you know? I've certainly never felt like it made me lonely.

"And then there's you, and I know it's not the same for you, because you can't even remember — and that's fine, Singapore doesn't really remember much either. But Malaysia remembers enough for the both of them, and then there's me, and I remember the most, but then there's you, and you don't have that."

Here, Indonesia exhales a shaky breath. "Spain took you, and America took you, and Japan took you, and that's four centuries of you just being gone from me. We're neighbors yet we're so different, to the point where we don't share the same language, the same religion, the same food, the same history . . . and you have friends all over the world and you seem so happy all the time, but I don't think I've ever realized how lonely you must feel."

All Philippines did was sigh. "I told you not to pity me."

"I'm not pitying you," said Indonesia. "I'm just sorry."

All this time, he had been so in awe of how Philippines found it so easy to adjust to Westerners and Western culture when he himself found it so difficult. But now, with the realization that the same ability to connect with others may have also translated to an inability to connect with him and the rest of ASEAN, that same awe felt so bitter. How many times had Philippines stood awkwardly to the side when he spoke to Malaysia and Brunei in his native language? Kept worryingly quiet when they were wistfully reminiscing their pre-colonial pasts? Tried to tell a joke to lighten up the mood during a meeting, but because of differences in culture and history, it just fell flat?

Indonesia was startled out of his thoughts with a painful pinch of his cheek.

"Of course you're going to be sorry if you make me sound so depressing," Philippines pouted at him, annoyed.

He sputtered, "What? I mean, I just thought—"

"Do you take me for an idiot, Indonesia?" He pinched Indonesia harder, which made him yelp. "Don't you think I'd be well aware by now of where I stand with all of you? That after sixty years together, I would've realized that I wasn't as involved in your history as everyone else is in maritime, or everyone else with each other in the mainland?"

With a huff, Philippines let him go. Indonesia tried to soothe the sting of it by putting his hand on his cheek. He almost didn't hear the other nation murmur, "Do I seem that pitiful to you?"

"Not pitiful at all," Indonesia scrambled to reassure. Philippines leaned back on his chest, still looking a bit miffed. "I don't know. I just had this sudden thought that maybe we're just a bad reminder of how much Spain and America took away from you. Maybe you're actually uncomfortable with us."

Maybe you're actually uncomfortable with me, he thought, though he kept that to himself.

Philippines simply stared up at him, eyes bright, and said, "Well, if you only realized it today, then maybe you should've considered that it isn't actually a problem."

"You could just be very good at acting like nothing's wrong," Indonesia pointed out.

"Or you can think about this: maybe there really is nothing wrong in the first place," Philippines said, a wry smile growing on his face. "I founded the association with you, you know. Maybe the rest of you were there because of old ties or whatever, but I joined precisely because I wanted to build new ones. I don't really care if I feel awkward sometimes. I'd certainly find it boring if all of you were exactly like me anyway."

The other nation was so carefree about it, but Indonesia still felt conflicted. He admitted, "Maybe the problem is just that I feel awkward. I have no idea how to approach you as a nation."

"So don't approach me as a nation. Approach me as a friend," Philippines said, not unkindly. To get the point across, he put his hands over Indonesia's in a show of comfort. "You're allowed to act outside the interests of who you represent, you know. We're people too."

Indonesia kept quiet. There had been times when he privately felt like Philippines was his exact opposite — a lively, energetic person that focused more on his human side rather than the nation side, and someone whose duties were considerably more worldly than his own: having to regularly travel to dozens of countries to check on the millions of Filipino citizens that were working abroad. Meanwhile, as such a large and diverse country, Indonesia tried his best to ensure that every single one of the people that lived within his borders felt heard. It was difficult sometimes, but it always felt meaningful to him — his people were his essence, and he couldn't let politics force him to forsake them again. Acting for his personal interests felt as foreign to him as leaving his house sometimes. Not that he never took time for himself; he tried, but a lot of the time he had to be convinced to do so. Sometimes Singapore would invite him for another tour around his house, or Malaysia would drag him into some new restaurant where they would inevitably fight over the food. But more often than not, it would be Philippines pushing him and the other Southeast Asian nations out of their shells and setting up parties, taking them to his fiestas, and prodding and annoying all of them until they would finally agree to ASEAN hang-outs like the one at Bali. Indonesia could admit harboring a deep suspicion for the other nation before, thinking that he was more in line with American interests rather than his own, but over the decades that suspicion had faded. Despite all his efforts to the contrary, he had grown on him, and now Indonesia couldn't imagine his life without him anymore.

He didn't know much about the Philippines as a nation, not much more than he needed to be aware of for the sake of diplomacy and the association. Yet as the years went by and he got to know more and become friends with Philippines the person, he discovered someone who was equal parts obnoxious and endearing, foolhardy and clever, petty and proud and unbelievably kind. And as he looked at him now, there was something in the curve of his smile and the light in his eyes that told him that things would be alright if he took things a step further — something that told him that the other nation had been anticipating this for a long, long time. Heart over head and heart over country, it emboldened him to take the leap.

"I don't want to approach you as a friend either," Indonesia murmured, and because he couldn't help himself, he leaned down and kissed him.

Philippines sighed happily into his mouth as he kissed back, warm and blooming under his touch. Their kiss was relatively chaste — Indonesia had seen the other nation make out with others for a drunk dare with more passion than this — yet he couldn't complain. It was sweet and soft and lasted only for a moment, and more than anything, it was a promise: that they can take things slow, and that they had all the time in the world to get to know each other better.

Their foreheads touched, quiet and tender, and Philippines laughed softly. "It's so ridiculous," he said, his eyes filled with mirth, "that I've been waiting for so long for you to realize your feelings, and when the time finally comes that you do, you managed to confess without really confessing at all. Only you, Indonesia."

"I'm shy," he said dryly, and the other nation burst into laughter. "If you wanted a real confession, you probably could've done so yourself."

"Ah, but there's no fun in that! I like the thrill of being chased, you know," Philippines preened, wagging his finger in mock admonishment. Then, more shyly, he admitted, "Besides, if I made a move on you before you were ready, you might've just pushed me away or feel forced to return my feelings even if you didn't. If I waited, at least I could be sure you wanted me too."

"So all those jokes you made before were supposed to be you holding back? How subtle," Indonesia teased, his eyes crinkling. He held the other nation closer, smothering him with small kisses all over until what little sadness on his face disappeared and was replaced with giggles and brightness. He turned Philippines' head to face him properly and said, "I'm scared that I won't know how to balance my duties and my personal life as well as you do, and I'm scared that we'll be too dissimilar to really work out. But until the day that our differences force us apart, I'd be happy to spend my time with you."

Philippines pulled away from him slightly, an oddly vulnerable look in his eyes. "You're sure you really want something with me? That this isn't too far out of your comfort zone?"

"Oh, it's very out of my comfort zone," Indonesia said. "But recently, I've been learning that maybe it isn't so bad, you know. As long as I'm with you."

"As long as I'm with you," Philippines repeated, with a growing smile. "I like the sound of that."

They continued talking well past midnight, at some points laughing so hard and arguing so loud that poor Pien was startled awake by all the noise. And as the other nation reached out and pulled him under the covers so they could hold each other until the morning, he found himself reaching back. They kissed until their lips were red and they got so tangled up in each other until they couldn't distinguish between their own bodies anymore; despite how differently the day turned out from how his usual trips to Europe went, Indonesia swore that the unfamiliar city never felt so much like coming home until that night.

-----

"Where the hell is my sweater," Philippines groused.

"You threw it on the floor last night, it should be under your bedside drawer." Indonesia kissed his forehead and, keenly aware that he was not a morning person, gave him a cup of his precious coffee. He could tell his efforts were appreciated when Philippines greedily gulped down the scalding liquid. "Selamat pagi, sayang."

The other nation only pouted at him. "Don't call me sayang."

"After all the stupid things you've called me through the years? I'll call you however I like, thank you very much," he shrugged. "Besides, I'm not the one who has to leave in a few hours."

Philippines groaned as he pulled his clothes over himself. "This is so stupid. We finally get together and now we have to be separated like this? I mean, I'm really glad and I like you a lot and all, but I really wish you had a better sense of timing right now."

"I think you'll live." Indonesia hid his smile behind his cup. "I mean, you were the one that said you don't mind waiting until November to see me again."

"You just keep making fun of me," Philippines whined, cuddling up to him. Pien had even jumped up to nuzzle his neck, evidently just as clingy as his owner. "Where's the romance, Indonesia? The sweet nothings in my ear? The poems and songs you surely must've written while you pined for my presence? Am I to despair forever, having only been loved by a phantom version of yourself that will never return?"

"You've been watching too many telenovelas," Indonesia said, quickly setting both of their cups somewhere else before they had any accidents. At this, the other nation gasped dramatically and collapsed across his lap. Despite himself, he started chuckling at how ridiculous Philippines was being — really, how could he not find him so endearing?

Then Philippines suddenly turned serious. He stared up at him, his gaze piercing. "If you don't want me to go, I can just make up dumb some excuse again, you know. Just say the word."

Indonesia humored him. "And why wouldn't I want you to go?"

"Because I can't be there for you if you feel alone again," he muttered, expression tense and his mouth downturned in an angry frown. "I just feel bad that I'm leaving you so soon."

Yesterday, he would've been right to be worried. Indonesia probably would've found some roundabout way to say that he'd much rather for Philippines to stay just until he could see him off at the airport later that evening, if only to stave off that achingly empty feeling of waiting to go home and resenting time for moving so slowly. Philippines would have laughed and teased and inevitably posted about the day's events on his Instagram, to which Indonesia would look increasingly more exhausted with each new update, but he nevertheless would have allowed Indonesia to get away with delaying his plans to make him more comfortable.

But as it was, now Indonesia only remembered the way the other nation's eyes had twinkled in excitement when he mentioned Munich, so it was little trouble for him to simply smooth back Philippines' bangs and lightly say, "Actually, I was planning of sightseeing on my own today."

"Oh?" Philippines looked surprised — and pleased. "You are?"

Indonesia couldn't stop himself from flushing in embarrassment. Really, it had only been a passing thought he had after finishing his morning prayers, but . . . "All of you are always going on about how I can't enjoy myself abroad, so. I figured it was time I gave it a try."

Though Philippines probably knew he was still rather uncertain about it, he smiled anyway. "Well, as long as bring your phone this time, alright? I'm always just a text away if you need it."

"And here I thought you'd say some cheesy line about me never truly being alone since you'll always in my heart," Indonesia said, and Philippines was startled into laughter as he sat back up. "Don't worry. I've survived a long, long time without you by my side. I can take a little longer."

Philippines pecked him on the cheek, sweet and domestic. "Not too long, I hope. I can't wait to see the look on Thailand's face when we walk into November's meeting hand in hand. Maybe I should make a vlog about everyone else's surprised reactions."

"Whatever you like, sayang." Indonesia smiled as he stood, his hand reaching out. He pulled Philippines into a kiss — a deep one this time, slow and sensuous and full of all the things he felt too strongly to properly express in words — that left them both breathing heavily by the time they pulled away. Feeling uncharacteristically suave, he whispered, "Though I would prefer it if, in the short time that you're still here, you keep all your focus on me."

"Always, mahal." Philippines smiled back, eyes as bright as ever. "Always."

-----

Notes:

Title comes from the lyrics of How Deep Is Your Love, but specifically, it's a reference to the Christian Bautista cover. Bautista is a Filipino singer, and his cover was very popular in Indonesia a few years ago.

There are a lot of things I've had to simplify and outright ignore for the sake of story, most egregious being the fact that Indonesia actually wouldn't be the sole Southeast Asian nation in a G20 meeting. The chair of ASEAN is a permanent guest invitee, and since the current chair is the Sultan of Brunei, Brunei would probably in the meeting as well. Alas, Brunei isn't canon yet as of this writing. Sorry, Brunei!

Mahal and sayang are both terms of endearment in Tagalog and Bahasa Indonesia respectively, but with a catch! Mahal is a word that also exists in Bahasa Indonesia, but the meaning is "expensive" rather than "love" — in Tagalog you can use the word both ways. Sayang is a word that also exists in Tagalog, but the meaning is "What a waste" or "What a pity" rather than "love" — in Bahasa Indonesia, you can use the word both ways. So essentially, you have Philippines and Indonesia trying to be sweet to each other, but the other interprets it as a weird insult instead. It's really funny and really cute.

More detailed notes and references on my previous Tumblr post here!

[multifandomhoodies]

Finnpoe Rec List!

There’s some really fantastic Finnpoe fics out there and I’ve been setting aside fics from my bookmarks for this for a while! These are just some of my faves, so enjoy!! 

Canon/Canon Adjacent (not AUs outside general Star Wars universe) 

“how to become the spark” by sassy_ninja (G - 49.7k

Poe Dameron, commander of the Resistance fleet, best pilot in the galaxy, hotshot trigger-happy flyboy, he's all of these things plus a little bit more. This is the story Poe Dameron, shy farmboy, doting son, idiot gay, soldier who tries his best not to be broken by the war roaring around him and most of all just a human in a galaxy which doesn't care about things like love, friendship and fear. This is how he breaks and how he begins to heal again and how he starts to learn what it means to be alive. Or Poe Dameron's life from his childhood to the end of the war.

“bathed in blue light” by delgay (M - 17.4k)

When Finn turns to his right, Poe stands beside him, looking up at Finn and giving him what might be a smirk if he weren’t too busy smiling. It’s that same smile that’s made home on his face ever since Finn said, “I’d like to see Yavin IV. If I’d be welcome.” Poe had blinked fast, but the smile came slow. “Buddy,” he’d replied, “I’m offended that you even had to ask.”

A year after the Battle of Exegol, Finn and Poe visit Yavin IV. While there, Finn struggles with the Force and his complicated relationship with Poe.

“we slept with our backs against the weather” by bogpersons (T - 8.4k)

Poe’s breaths come in stops and starts, and wheezes on the inhale and exhale. He sounds like a dying man. Finn lifts Poe’s hand to his lips, presses it there, squeezes his eye shut. Something harsh and painful swells in his chest, finds a place under his heart and pushes and pushes and pushes until Finn can barely breathe with it. You are a Human Person. Finn and Poe crash on a jungle planet. Finn struggles with himself.

“We Stan A Healthy Family Dynamic (The Kes Verse)” by AphroditesTummyRolls SERIES (Not rated, 161.7k)

Get in losers, we're giving the Star Wars Sequel cast the story they deserved-- Particularly Poe and Finn.

[Set after the events of TFA, rewrites of TLJ and neat little bits in-between. Poe deals with the aftermath Kylo Ren’s interrogation, dealing with regret and trauma, with the help of his friends and dad through a rewrite of TLJ.]

“your love will be safe with me” by incalyscent (T - 8.6k)

when finn stripped away the violence from himself, what did he have left? it was love; love; love.

“i’m yours (and suddenly you’re mine) by spacepilotprince (E - 4.3k)

Finn snorts against Poe's stomach, and it forces a ticklish laugh out of him. “Laying it on a little thick tonight, aren't you?” Finn asks as he looks up at Poe, and finds that grin he heard in his voice.

“Not the only thing that's thick,” Poe says with a smirk, glancing down between them towards Finn's cock.

“Oh, shut up,” Finn laughs, surging up to kiss him, muffling Poe's laughter. Poe runs his hands over Finn's shoulders and tips his head aside, sending Finn's mouth down his jaw and neck.

“Contact” by earthmylikeness (M - 9.9k)

Because what could Finn do but live through it? Live in the remains of his own shipwrecked mind, his badly-crossed wires. Imagine Poe’s perpetually bitten mouth on him - his wide, calloused hands on his bare chest, pulling him down and down whenever he so much as closes his eyes. 

Finn has a delayed reaction to surviving the crash.

“Best Laid Efforts” by cosmicocean (T - 3.7k) @cosmicoceanfic

In which Jessika and Temmin do their best, aren't even subtle about it, and Poe and Finn are still morons.

“Ad Pacem” by SteveTrevorsStarship (T - 1.5k) 

Finn knows war and rebellion so far. He doesn’t know peace. (Yet.)

“First Comes the Night” by coffeeinallcaps (E - 20.1k)

He doesn’t get nightmares. He doesn’t dream about the mask, the cries of the villagers, waking up in the desert with a blinding headache and his mouth filled with blood and the man who’d saved him gone, most likely dead. Instead, he just can’t sleep.

“have you heard” by peradi (Not rated, 42.1k)

"I heard FN-2187 was a Stormtrooper." 

Finn sparks a revolution.

“Doubt” by Cadoan (T - 1.4k) 

After the battle of Crait, something has changed in Poe. Poe can't sleep, and Finn goes to find him.

“Neither Here Nor There” by d8rkmessengr (T - 7.8k)

Sometimes, it felt like he wasn't really here. Sometimes, it felt like it wasn't really over. And the one person who tethered him left to finally tell Rey something. Post The Rise of Skywalker.

“How to Be a Finn” by Ayashiki (G - 111k)

In a hindsight, all of it - the stolen childhood, the crash on Jakku, Han Solo's death, even the lightsaber to the back - was easier than living in this world of invisible social clues and inside jokes, the whirlwind of this ragtag family that defied any logic, the caring, the compassion, the love. And all the while people tell him: Finn, you are so brave! Finn, you are so strong! Finn, you are so kind! Finn, thank you for saving my life! And FN-2187 looks to the stars and desperately tries to find this "Finn" everyone seems to know in himself.

“On the Other Side” by StarMaple (T - 27.2k)

Finn discovers the differences first hand between the First Order and the Resistance and establishes a space for himself on D'Qar.

“we are all stardust” by synergenic (Losseflame) (Not rated, 15.3k)

Finn wakes up. He wakes up slow, the rising tide of consciousness making him aware, firstly, of how stale his mouth tastes. Then it's the general stiffness of his body, the foreign feeling of a pillow beneath his head, the softness of the clothes he's wearing. Finn doesn't think he's ever worn clothes so soft.

“No Sleep till Brooklyn” by TheCarrot (T first chapter, second chapter E, - 10.4k)

Poe is exhausted. And not just because he hasn’t slept for more than three hours at a time in Force knows how long. Moreover it’s the 39 flights he’s run in the last 22 days and the fact Pava had gotten deathlike sick eight days ago and then they had fallen behind on a few supply runs and an emergency evacuations of some of their pathfinders and then there had been a last minute scramble to one of their allies in the mid rim with far too many TIEs to be comfortable and then- well, Poe just wants to fall over onto the floor and stay there.

AUs

“Time of the Underdog” by beeeawolf, SERIES. (G & T, 56k)

Modern times AU, Poe is a former Navy pilot who was discharged after a crash and being a POW. Finn is a university student who manages to catch Poe’s run away dog, BB-8, who’s literally everything to him.

“We Didn’t Start the Fire” by MayGlenn and cognomen (E - 10.7k)

There’s a calm that claims them all when they’re working and it’s going the way it’s supposed to; the low-level hum of concentration and focus and adrenaline that keeps them on edge without panic. The crew deploys from Idaho, a home base that they see perhaps 3 weeks out of the entire 26 week fire season, interspersed with time in camps and housing all over the country. This week, it’s California—sunny, liberal, beach lined, and on fire.

Finn's a Hotshot firefighter; Poe's the team Helitack operator. They're headed to California to fight a fire in San Jacinto; dangerous country.

“It’s Not Goodbye” by mssrj_335 (T - 25.9k)

Finn is an ex-soldier on a solo motorcycle trip across America. Poe is the mechanic in a small desert town. Poe wants to keep his secrets and Finn is running from something--or toward it--and the part for his bike is going to take at least a week to come in. What starts as a quick stop and awkward flirt devolves into a conspiratorial intrigue of a very personal nature. Lights in the desert, headaches and vague memories all point Finn to something that has Poe tied in knots. He just has no idea how far that something will take him.

“A Possibility (A Promise)” by sapphistication (T - 5.9k)

Poe, Prince of Yavin, is briefly reunited with the Resistance Fighters lead by General Leia Organa. After three years apart, he quickly finds that his affections for Finn are of a different nature than he remembers. Despite the war they find themselves in, they share a few moments of peace by the fire, filled with soft words and meaningful smiles. Time works against them, but Poe seeks a possibility and makes a promise.

[mondstadtbreeze]

Under the Windtree

Word count: 2.5k

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Aether returns to Mondstadt only to find that Venti hasn't been seen in a few days. He can't shake the feeling that something isn't right.

~

Aether and Paimon come back to Mondstadt after a long time of traveling the country between Mond and Liyue to collect ingredients, artifacts and looking for more clues of the whereabouts of Lumine.

Everyone is happy to see them and he's immediately roped into helping out here and there, despite being tired.

Paimon eventually tells him to stop because she knows he's exhausted and he goes to stay at the Angel's Share.

He was really hoping to see Venti before retiring for the night, but the bard is difficult to get a hold of on the best days, since he doesn't have actual residence in Mondstadt.

He wishes Charles a good night and goes to end the day after a good meal.

~

Aether wakes up the next morning with Paimon gone, probably to get breakfast somewhere and gets ready for the day, happy for the access to a good bath with warm water after weeks.

He finds Paimon at the counter talking Charles' ear off who seems happy to entertain her and Aether sits down with them.

They talk and Aether finds out after asking (he tries to sound casual when he asks, but Charles looks at him a bit too knowing) that Venti hasn't really been seen by anyone around for about 3 days now, which is somewhat rare, but it happens.

Aether cant help but feel worried despite Charles being calm about it but he, better than anyone, knows Venti can take care of himself.

He doesnt look for him.

He goes talk to jean to see if she needs help and to lighten the load he knows she has on her shoulders and then sneaks off with Kaeya to take a break in which they see who can catch a slime faster.

Aether wins and Kaeya promises to smuggle him a drink later.

Kaeya pulls him into a half hug-half headlock and ruffles his hair, dodging Paimon who playfully swats at his head to 'defend' Aether, before they go off to continue their jobs.

Aether finishes some commissions and sinple tasks asked by the citizens until Paimon tells him to go sit for a while.

Venti still hasn't shown his face and Aether is getting anxious now.

He knows the bard is often busy with his own mischief and isn't always around but whenever Aether goes back to Mondstadt he's been there at least a day and most of the time immediately sought him out, as if he knew he was in town.

Which, as the archon of wind, is very likely.

So why hasn't he visited yet?

Was he on a trip?

Did Aether do something wrong the last time he was here?

The thought of that sits like a stone in Aether's stomach, adding to the heavy weight of his anxiety.

He can't sit around and wait.

Something tells him to go look for Venti instead of waiting.

"You really are like a mother hen sometimes, you know?", Paimon says when he asks her to come along.

"Paimon would love to come but...."

They look at the food that's still on the plate.

"Paimon is tired from getting up early and being busy all day."

"I can carry you."

Paimon puffs her cheeks and huffs.

"No way! Paimon isn't a little kid OR a pet! Noone carries Paimon around! Why don't we go look for him tomorrow? He's probably with that dragon anyways. Paimon will come if we wait until tomorrow."

She looks at him a little pleading and Aether can see a hint of concern bleed through.

"You should sleep, too, Aether."

He knows he should.

Aether sighs.

"I'm sorry Paimon, I need to check on him. Something feels... off."

Paimon pouts but nods.

"Paimon will save you a snack for when you come back."

Aether is out of the city faster than he planned to, worry and the growing knot in his stomach bite at his heels and drive him forward.

He decides to go to Starsnatch Cliff first to see if his friend is there but realizes quickly that it was pointless.

He does his best to avoid fights and obstacles on his way back to Windrise.

If Venti isn't there he'll look at Dvalin's Lair and then return to Mond.

He is already making a plan on how to get to Dvalin the fastest when he reaches the statue at Windrise.

He immediately knows that something is wrong.

Looking over the area it seems the same, nothing unusual, not even slimes or hilichurls.

But as soon as Aether steps up to the roots, his foot touching it's tip, the anxiety he'd had the entire time turns into cold, clawing fear.

His throat closes up and he gasps in shock of the sensation as it washes over him.

Aether stumbles back and has to lean against the statue, hold on to it, to keep himself upright.

He knows they aren't his own emotions, has experienced this once or twice before when connecting to statues of the Seven and somehow that knowledge makes it worse, because it means Venti is terrified.

He has to find him, quickly.

Aether fights to push the feelings into the back of his mind and concentrates on the foreign feeling of wind rushing through his body as he leans closer to the statue, closing his eyes.

He can feel it flowing through him, around him, into the statue and back out and-

An image flashes up in his mind, blurry.

He sees the blue sky vaguely and a lot of strings and roots that obscure it. He can also see the river.

Aether let's go immediately and rushes around the tree to where the water would be visible, heart pounding.

He doesn't find Venti right away, mostly because the fear doesn't ebb off but becomes stronger the more he searches.

When he realizes why, he stops moving.

"Venti!", he calls.

No answer, but the fear spikes.

Aether has to blink, to get the tears out of his eyes from the intense feeling.

"Venti, it's Aether!"

He keeps searching and shortly after this he feels the fear lift a little and can think more clearly again.

"...ther.."

Aether freezes and turns to where the voice came from.

Carefully he approaches a spot overgrown with roots and bushes.

Venti is practically invisible behind it, with his green clothing.

He's pushed himself into a hollow at the tree's trunk behind them, like a miniature cavern. Aether can't see a lot with the gloomy lighting but Venti looks like he's slumped against the bark.

"Hey... Traveler", he greets and the faint glow of his braids and half lidded eyes shows just enough for Aether to realize there is blood on his face.

His heart almost stops.

He tries to get closer, but the roots make it impossible for him to reach, almost as if they'd grown there just to protect anyone from getting to Venti.

How did he even climb in there?

"Venti, what happened?", he asks softly, copying the soft tone the bard had used before. Venti looks at him as if he only heard half of it.

"Wait no, don't answer that. I'm here to help, can you move?"

Aether doesn't wait for an answer and instead starts pushing roots aside with more force.

Venti watches him the entire time, sometimes blinking rapidly as if to stay awake, so Aether continues to mumble what he's doing for Venti to concentrate on.

Finally, he reaches out but Venti shakes his head.

"Don't think I should move... right now."

"I can't get a look at you or help you in here", Aether explains and grabs for him anyways.

Before the bard can do anything against it, Aether has shoved his arms under his legs and behind his back and lifts him out of the hole.

He almost drops him when Venti screams in pain.

"Down! Aether!", he yelps right after, but Aether carries him further.

When he puts him down, it's in a spot he can prop Venti's back up against a large rock.

The bard is still holding onto him, fingers clawed into Aether's shirt, but let's go tohold his sode when he moves too sudden.

And then Aether finally catches sight of what happened.

He gasps in horror when his hands come away from Venti's stomach stained in red.

There is old blood plastering his shirt to his body and new that now seeps further into spots that used to be white.

Aether realizes that, whatever this wound came from, he just opened it up again.

But there is no time for blaming himself now.

"Venti. Venti look at me."

The bard is staring at his stomach, breathing heavily, and Aether has to practically force his head up to get his attention.

"Can you understand what I'm saying?"

Venti blinks. He looks tired.

He nods.

"Good. How long have you been here?"

"A day... maybe", is the quiet answer and Venti seems to struggle with even just that.

Aether's mind is racing.

A day with a wound like this would've killed any normal human.

Which Venti is not.

Should he leave him here? For the tree to heal him?

Venti answers the question before he can ask it.

"Isn't working. Not... healing."

He moans in pain when he tries breathing in deeply and then... doubles over, coughing and gasping for air.

Aether yells his name, doing his best to hold him upright, so he doesn't hit his head.

Venti coughs one more time, wheezing painfully, before he slumps against Aether.

He stops moving.

The blood in Aether's veins freezes.

"Venti! Venti, wake up!"

He doesn't think he's ever felt this cold.

Venti isn't responding and his breathing is too shallow.

The fear Aether feels is his very own this time.

He does his best to swallow around the panic, checking Venti's pulse and, upon finding it, lifts him up again.

Venti is so much lighter than he looks and Aether has to hold back a sob, when he feels the blood run down his hand.

Before he knows it, he's running.

He knows he shouldn't move someone with a wound like this, but he doesn't have any other choice to help him.

This way there is at least a chance of reaching Barbara before... before...

Aether concentrates on the wind around him and sprints.

Barbara is just about to leave the church when there is a ruckus from outside and the doors burst open, splintering in their hinges at the same time as Aether yells "HELP! I NEED HELP!"

She's at his side within a second and flinches in shock when she recognizes who Aether is carrying and what state the bard is in.

There is blood all over both of them and the look Aether throws her is one of feral desperation.

Barbara gets to work.

~

Venti had stopped breathing right when Aether had reached the steps of the Church of Favonius.

Aether still feels the dread and panic sit in his throat, which is why he hasn't taken his eyes off of the bard since Barbara told him to lay him down in the churches backroom.

A few hours ago, Venti had woken up, feverish and in pain, repeatedly mumbling what Aether believed to be the word "Himmel", before slipping back into a fitful sleep, brows furrowed and face screwed up in pain.

Eventually Aether starts switching between carding a hand through Venti's dark hair and running a finger along his brows and forehead as if to ease the creases out of it.

It works for a while.

Venti wakes up feeling like he got stomped on by a geo vishap.

His vision is blurry, everything hurts and he's still tired.

What keeps him from going back to sleep, however, is the body next to him.

When Venti looks down, he finds himself face to face with Aether.

He's snoring lightly, eyes moving behind closed lids.

A few lose hair strands hang into his face.

When Venti moves a little, Aether hums and then buries his face in the crook of Venti's neck.

He holds his breath and when he moves again, he realizes that Aether's hand is on his hip, holding him losely to his body.

Venti lets out the air he's holding in a stutter, doing his best not to disturb the other.

His heart is thumping loudly against his ribcage, fluttering every time Aether's breath hits his skin.

He almost forgets his own pain.

Almost.

He groans loudly when he tries to turn and suddenly Barbara is right next to him.

"You should move him if it hurts you", she says quietly without greeting but Venti shakes his head softly.

"I'm fine. Promise!"

Barbara smiles gently as she puts her hand on his forehead, nods a little and holds a straw towards him.

He drinks and makes a face at whatever medicine she's just given him.

She gives him another glass with straw and only water and he drinks it greedily.

"You were hurt pretty badly. Who attacked you?"

"Noone who will ever hurt anyone again", Venti replies cryptically and Barbara nods, although a little disapproving.

Then she nods to Aether.

"You were lucky he found you on time. You weren't breathing when he got here."

Venti swallows.

Not breathing? That was close.

"O...oh. Guess I'll have to thank him for that."

"You better. A lot of us would be in trouble without him. It's no surprise that he'd end up helping you out eventually as well."

Venti giggles softly.

If she only knew just how MUCH he owed Aether for.

Speaking of...

"What is he doing here still?"

"He insisted on staying. He was very distraught when he arrived and only calmed down when he was able to see you were breathing again."

She clicks her tongue disapprovingly when she add: "Ripped the church doors out of their hinges when he arrived."

Venti gapes at her.

"That's... kind of h-"

Barbara puts her hand over his mouth faster than he can finish and tries to look upset.

"I will not have this kind of conversation in our Lord Barbatos' church. What if he hears! Such frivolous words, bard."

Venti chuckles.

"Oh, I'm sure he'd agree with me."

"Blasphemy!", she hisses playfully and he laughs lightly and sticks his tongue out.

"You seem to be recovering well. I'll leave you to sleep some more. Kick the honorary knight out of bed if he hurts you."

She pauses shortly.

"I'm glad you're better, Venti. Don't go off alone next time."

With that she leaves.

Venti lets out a shuddering breath as he relaxes.

Aether mumbles something against his neck and Venti shudders under the sensation.

He experimentally runs his fingers over Aether's spine.

The other hums in his sleep.

Venti swallows his nerves.

He could let himself indulge in this.

This one time.

He closes his eyes and, as far as he can, curls closer into Aether, who's quiet snoring and slow breathing lulls him into a soft daze.

He turns his head to bury his nose in Aether's hair, feeling nothing but comfort and safety, before he fell back asleep.

[script-nef]

Interview Time | Oikawa Tooru

Category: fluff

2k words; an eventful interview with Oikawa and his girlfriend

Today we are joined by the phenomenal setter of Club Athletico San Juan, Oikawa Tooru, and the manager of the team, [Name] [Surname]. They are the iconic couple who have brought laughter and joy to many matches by their interactions. 

“Hello, [Name] here!”

“Hi, I’m Oikawa! And [Name]-chan, is that a reference to Zuko?”

“It most certainly is. It’s good to see you finally recognise some of my pop culture references now. I was wondering when you’d finally get a hobby outside of volleyball.”

“I have one!”

“Searching for alien conspiracy theories is not a hobby. Tooru, you’re weird as hell.”

“But you still love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Hey!”

You guys are so cute and lively together! Today’s interview will be focused on your relationship, but feel free to reject some of the questions if you’re uncomfortable. Is that okay?

“Sure!”

Q. How did you two meet?

“Oh, I was working for San Juan as one of the managers when he was brought in. Since I’m fluent in Japanese, the head coach asked me to help him around because his Spanish and English was atrocious.”

“Eck, [Name]-chan! I wasn’t that bad!”

“You were terrible, who are you trying to kid? Literally no one could understand half the things you were saying. I was basically your translator for the first year.”

“[Name]-chan!! You’re breaking my heart!”

“As long as your body works for volleyball I don— Okay, okay, I was kidding! Don’t pout, Tooru. You learnt it quick enough and now you don’t have any problems! Besides, it’s thanks to your previously horrible language skills that we got to spend more much time together, right?

“I guess that’s true… Was I really that bad though?”

“Absolutely horrible. Everyone can back me up on this.”

Q. What is one quality about each other that you admire and love the most?

“Tenacity, I guess. In volleyball and everything else. He stays behind all the damn time for hours, none of his teammates can keep up. I once had to conk him on the head and drag him out so he would rest.”

“It hurt! You’re stronger than Iwa-chan sometimes, I don’t even understand how that’s possible.”

“You think I’m stronger than the arm-wrestling champion Iwa-chan?”

“Yes. Anyway, what I love most about [Name] is her perceptivity. Did you know that I once had a small kink in my leg muscle which was uncomfortable and she caught it in a second? No one else noticed except her! And this was before we started dating!”

“Yeah, well. I did spend the most time with you and you constantly tell me things about yourself. Even when I didn’t ask.”

“[Name]-chan is so shy. It’s okay, I know you loved me since the moment you laid your eyes on me.”

“Eh…”

“Hey!”

“I didn’t fall in love with you at first sight, I don’t believe in that. You slowly grew on me because you incessantly hit on me.”

“That’s the best kind of hitting!”

“...hm. Do you, um, like any other sort of hitting—”

“[Name]-chan, we’re on camera! Stop that!”

I’m sorry, please keep this PG, there are young fans who might be watching. Moving on!

Q. What was your first date like?

“First date, huh? It was like, ages ago…”

“It was 6 years ago, in August. We went to the Tango festival in Buenos Aires. I had such a fun time with you then!”

“You had fun stepping all over my feet. It’s honestly appalling how much you sucked at dancing back then. You were bad at a lot of things, huh.”

“She complained about it all night, but even then she was so cute and brilliant. She led me for the second half, stating that she had enough of her feet getting trampled on.”

“Thankfully you picked it up fast. You’re pretty fast at learning new skills.”

“Aww, is the ever-so stoic [Name]-chan praising me? How rare!”

“Well, if you don’t want me to, then…”

“Wait, no don’t stop! I was kidding, praise me more!” 

“Ah, don’t latch onto me, this is on cam— Tooru!”

Now, now, please calm down. Straight onto the next question!

Q. Do you have any memorable dates or events?

“Oh, there was this one time.”

“I already said sorry for that!”

“That doesn’t mean it never happened! My jaw still hurts when I think about it!”

“I said sorry every single time!”

“Still! Okay, the story is that I wanted to surprise him when he came back home but it went horribly. The first part, at least. “He didn’t know I was coming over because I wanted it to be a surprise, which in hindsight was a bad idea. I made dinner and turned the lights off when I heard the door unlocking. In my head, it was like ‘pop and and surprise him’, but when I did, he got spooked and hit me in the jaw.”

“It was reflex! [Name]-chan, you popped out screaming ‘surprise’ right in front of me!”

“Yeah, but still. That’s how I now know he has a great right hook. Nearly knocked me out. But his crying and screaming stopped me from falling unconscious.”

“I thought I really did knock you out!”

“Yeah, but you kept on screaming even after I said it was okay. You’ve probably heard of it too, there were news articles about how he came into the emergency room crying his eyes out.”

“I really am sorry about it, [Name]-chan…”

“Hey now, no need to be sad. It’s just a funny memory to tell everyone now.” 

At least you can laugh about it now.

Q. 6 years is a long time. You must have a lot of anniversaries. What do you do for them?

“Nothing special, we just get presents for each other and spend the day together. I used to just tell him what I wanted but he can figure out what I want now.”

“That shows what an amazing and observant boyf—I mean fiancé I am! Have you ever been disappointed with anything I gave you?”

“Well, no, not yet.”

“See? And you get me all the things I want and need. We’re a perfect couple.”

“We sometimes go on trips to neighbouring countries, visit some tourist spots. I bought him a camera for the anniversary last year, and now he takes tons of photos everywhere we go. There’s a huge stack of polaroids in our bedroom.”

“[Name]-chan, don’t ignore me! Aren’t we a perfect couple?”

“I think we’re the best we can be. Perfection doesn’t exist, but we can strive to be the best we can be, right Tooru?”

“Yup! You’re so wise when it comes to things like this.”

Q. What do you do in your spare time?

“We recently started watching TV shows like Umbrella Academy and Doctor Who. Tooru likes them because of all the aliens and superpowers.”

“They’re all so creative! Like the Weeping Angel, that makes me freak out whenever I see a statue now. Some of them give me nightmares.”

“Weeping Angels are messed up. Wait, why do you watch it if it gives you nightmares? You need to take care of your mental state as well, national representative!”

“But you hug me when I sleep if I have night terrors! I would sit through a hundred horror movies if it means you would hug me.”

“…”

“Are you… blushing?”

“No.”

“Aw, [Name]-chan, you’re blushing! I love you so much!”

“Tooru, stop! I’m going to fa—”

*Technical difficulties please hold*

Q. You recently announced your engagement, congratulations! How was the proposal, if you don’t mind me asking?

“I took her to her favourite restaurant! It’s this fancy place in a building near the training centre and she loves the pizza there.”

“It is delicious. He can’t see how good it is, this uncultured child.”

“It’s not my type! I like other pizzas, just not that one. Her face absolutely glows with happiness when she takes a bite but I can’t understand it. They have those really salty fish—”

“Anchovy. And I usually don’t like it either, but they make it taste amazing!”

“No, it still tastes like clumps of salt. Thankfully I like other dishes on the menu. We go there so often that the owner has a special spot reserved for us. It’s by a window and since the restaurant is in a tall building, it looks over the lights of the city. It’s very beautiful.”

“He was looking skittish than usual, so I was worried for him. I actually thought he wanted to break up with me. But instead, he showed me the ring and asked me to marry him.”

“Why would I ever break up with you?”

“Couples split apart! It’s what happens to a lot of them, I have never heard of someone who lived forever with only one person.”

“Tobio-chan did!”

“Are we considering volleyball as a person now?”

“[Name]-chan, we went to their wedding!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just kidding! He was pretty cute, all twitchy and red. His wife was even cuter though, so shy and embarrassed. Very beautiful as well.”

“You’re going to be even more radiant at our wedding. I can see you in your dress already.”

“Wow, you must be able to see into the future, since I haven’t even looked at the catalogue.”

“It’s a figure of speech!”

Now, now, please calm down! Onto the next question.

Q. You guys had been dating for quite a while before getting engaged. When did you realise you wanted to spend the rest of your life with each other?

“Oh, you never actually told me this.”

“It was actually when I was away for a game! [Name]-chan couldn’t come because she had to work back in Argentina, so I was all alone in a foreign country.”

“Literally everyone else on the team came to the game, you weren’t alone.”

“But none of them were you! Let me be romantic and tell my love story!”

“Alright, alright, no more interruptions. Proceed.”

“Thank you. It was the first day there. I finished the practice for the day and did our daily night call, because we always talk before falling asleep. I dozed off to her talking, so I thought she would be there when I woke up. But when I opened my eyes in the morning, and she wasn’t there, this wave of panic came over me until I realised I was overseas. “That moment was probably it. I thought there, lying on the bed, that I would never be happy unless I wake up next to her every morning and see her sleeping face. Unless I could start off my day by kissing her and holding her in my arms.”

“…That— that’s what you thought when you woke up?”

“Yeah? And I thought that every morning since the— wait, are you blushing?”

“No, shut up and go away, Tooru.”

“AWWWW [NAME]-CHAN IS BLUSHING AND TRYING TO HIDE FROM ME!! YOU’RE SO CUTE AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! I WANT TO SQUISH YOUR WIDDLE FACE AND CUDDLE YOU FOREVER MY AMAZING AND PRECIOUS WIFE!”

“Ack, Tooru, I’m going to fall agai—”

*Another technical difficulty, please hold*

Well, I think this has been a very cute and informative session. Quite eventful as well.

“If by eventful, you mean him trying to hug me so tight my ribs break and I get concussions from falling all the time, then yes, eventful.”

“Sorry, [Name]-chan, you were just too cute!”

“Not another word, volleyboy.”

Well, I’m sure your fans will be thrilled to see how cute the two of you are!

“His fans do seem to like knowing little stupid stories we have.”

“They’re our memories and I wouldn’t ever trade them for anything else.”

“…Me neither.”

“Aw, you’re so affectionate today, [Name]-chan. Maybe we should come again next time so I can see you blushing even more!”

We are completely on board with tha— 

“Okay, this is the end of our interview and I hope it was fun for the viewers! Bye-bye now!”

“Ah, she’s escaping! Wait for me, [Name]-chan! Thanks for watching! Bye!”

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || Heated Breakup [Request] [Hyung Line]

Seokjin:

The fight had been going on for a week without a break, you were both at your breaking point and neither of you knew what to do, you'd been staying on the sofa and Jin took the bedroom. You didn't talk unless it was to pick up the fight you'd dropped the night before and you were starting to feel emotionally and physically drained from it. Jin walked into the living room after a day at the studio and saw you sitting there, you were dressed in sweatpants and one of his shirts normally he adored coming home to that image but for some reason seeing it made him mad beyond compare,

"Why the fuck are you wearing my clothes again?! We talked about this!" You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, you think you'd get sick of crying but apparently not.

"I thought you liked when I wore your clothes." He scoffed at you throwing his bag down in the corner of the room,

"No, I find it annoying just like I find you annoying especially when I can't find the clothes I want to wear." Your heart felt as though someone was holding it in the palm of their hand and squeezing it so it couldn't beat,

"Annoying?" You questioned as you looked down at the shirt, tears rolled down your cheeks and he nodded.

"Yes! So god damn annoying, and all you ever do is complain and whine." With each word, he used to describe you your heart continued to squeeze tighter. You got up from the sofa and stripped from the shirt revealing a tank top you always wore underneath and you handed it back to him, he snatched it from your grasp.

"Look at you! You're fucking crying again, all you do is cry!" He yelled and you stared off behind him.

"I can't do this anymore." He stated and your eyes snapped back to his face, studying the way he was talking he was serious you could tell because his head was cocked to the side.

"Can't do what?"

"Us, I can't keep putting in all this effort, it's over. We're over." Jin was red in the face and you nodded,

"We're over." You whispered rushing up the stairs to pack a bag, in a rush you threw everything of yours you could find into the small overnight bag promising yourself you'd go back when he was out again.

You stopped at the front door and looked into the living room, Jin was sitting there on his phone as though the breakup meant nothing to him, you took a deep breath before walking out of the apartment and quietly shutting the door behind you, you didn't want to give him yet another reason to yell at you. The rain was pouring it down outside but you didn't care, you weren't going to go back into the house so you started your slow walk up to the hotel, 15 miles wasn't too far to walk.

Halfway there and your head was starting to throb, you knew you should have taken a coat but you didn't want to go back to the house and grab one,

"Are you alright dear?" A woman walking a small dog asked as she passed you, you nodded at her but she didn't believe you for a second primarily because you were standing still and rocking back and forth in front of her.

"Come with me, I'll get you some coffee." As she went to touch your arm to try to get you to follow her you felt sick, the world felt like it was starting to spin faster than usual and you had a ringing in your ear.

"Shit." You mumbled before you fell backwards, you were unconscious and the woman panicked looking through your pockets for a phone so she could call an ambulance.

(X)

Jimin stared at you from across the hospital room, you looked awful. Your hair was a mess from the sleep you'd been in and out of, you looked pasty and as if you were going to pass out again any moment you'd called him when you woke up in the hospital not knowing what to do or who to call in anymore you just knew you couldn't call Jin and tell him what had happened,

"You don't want me to tell Jin?" He questioned what you'd just told him but you nodded,

"Y/n, you passed out in the middle of the street. The first person you should have called was your boyfriend." By the look on your face, he knew he struck a nerve and you looked away from him tears rolling down your face.

"He broke up with me." You whispered to Jimin who looked as sick as you did, broke up? You guys were supposed to be the picture-perfect love that everyone looked up to.

"Oh." Was all he could manage to say in this situation so he sat down on the chair beside the bed and asked you what happened, you explained in detail as best you could without crying in front of Jimin and he listened to everything you told him from start to finish.

"You can't keep something like this from him, and I'm sure he didn't mean what he said. You've both been fighting for so long maybe-"

"Jimin, he meant it. The look in his eyes when he said it-" You couldn't keep talking because you started crying again, Jimin nodded and took out his phone doing what he wasn't supposed to do but what he had to do in this situation.

(X)

The door slamming against the wall is what you woke you up and you groaned holding your head, Jin took one look at you and teared up.

"This is my fault," You tried to let your mind catch up to what was happening when a nurse came running into the room,

"Visiting hours aren't for another five hours, you need to leave." But Jin wasn't going to go anywhere,

"It's okay, he's my partner." You lied to her and she nodded turning to leave the room, Jin stared down at you, you were hooked up to an IV drip and you looked like you hadn't been sleeping properly.

"Jimin called you?" You asked as you struggled to sit up in the bed, the IV drip in your hand was really hard to move with and he nodded coming to your side and assisting you.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"We broke up, remember?" You whispered to him and he moved from your side staring at you as you avoided his gaze.

"I didn't mean it though-"

"But you said it Jin." Your tone was a little harsher than you intended it to be but it was the truth, there was no going back on what he'd said to you that night.

"I'm just stressed out." He told you trying to justify what he'd said to you but he knew there was no way to excuse it, what he said was out of order.

"I was wrong and I'm sorry." You looked up at him and he looked as though he was about to cry, you knew deep down that he was sorry about it but it didn't stop it from hurting.

"Y/n, you have to believe me." His hands cupped yours being careful of the drip and you stared at him,

"I do, Jin but-"

"But nothing, no but's no coconuts." You let out a small giggle at him and shook your head, even in this situation he could still make you laugh even if it was just a little.

"We can't pretend it didn't happen..."

"Then we won't, we'll talk about it. I love you and I won't lose you." You nodded in agreement with him,

"I love you too Jin." You whispered leaning up to kiss him as he got up from the chair,

"You should go back to sleep." You looked over at the clock on the wall it was only 4 am so he was really early for visiting hours. He kissed you goodnight and helped you lay back down on the bed.

Yoongi:

Being in a foreign country with Yoongi felt like a good idea when he asked you to go with him but now you were screaming at each other in a hotel room it didn't feel like it anymore.

"Why don't you just go back home to the one you're cheating on me with then!" You stared at him from the other side of the double bed that was between you,

"You think I'm cheating on you?" Your voice was calm unlike the rest of you that was shaking with anger and you could literally feel your blood begin to boil.

"Yoong I have been nothing but faithful to you this whole time." You said to him as you could feel yourself tearing up, god! Why did you have to cry every time you got angry at him for something. He shrugged your shoulders at you and you scoffed at him,

"I wait at home for you to come back from tour, I have no opportunity to cheat on you, you on the other hand-" He was rolling his eyes at you and nodding,

"I have! I have cheated on you, multiple times in fact." Your world was coming down around your from that one sentence,

"Multiple times..."

"Yes! And they're all better than you in every way possible." Another strike straight to the heart and you could feel yourself panicking, you reached into the drawer beside the bed and grabbed your passport, you didn't need anything except that and your purse to leave. He watched as you ran from the room but he did nothing, he just fell onto the bed groaning in frustration.

"Y/n?" Jungkook asked as he watched you sprinting through the hotel, he caught up to you when you got to the elevator but you weren't going to sit and wait for it to come and get you when he watched you take off again he assumed you were in a rush for something and stayed behind, going to find Hoseok to go to dinner with him instead. You were running so fast down the stairs you weren't paying attention to the steps as you went,

"Fuck!" You cried out as you tripped over one foot tumbling down at least six steps and hitting your head on the wall beside the staircase, a worker saw the whole thing and rushed to your aide.

"You okay?" You nodded and tried to get up from the floor but you couldn't move, your legs were like jelly and your head was throbbing from the pain,

"You're bleeding, let me call an ambulance." You watched as the man was starting to blur in and out of your vision,

"I-I don't think-" You couldn't even finish the sentence because you were out cold on the floor, blood trickling down from the cut above your eyebrow and the man yelled out for someone to help you whole the ambulance came.

(X)

"He thinks you're going back to Seoul," Namjoon said as you sat on the bed in the hospital room, you'd woken up when you arrived and you were now waiting for a doctor to glue your cut together, you stared at the floor at the thought of Yoongi and your hand dropped from your head,

"You're supposed to keep that applied," Namjoon said in a monotone coming to your side and lifting the cloth to your cut that was still bleeding, you stared up at him and he was staring behind you.

"Did he really cheat on me?" He stayed silent and you knew what that meant, you stared down at the floor and tried not to cry but it was hard when you were in emotional and physical pain now.

"Y/n..." The door opened as Namjoon went to speak and a doctor walked in standing in front of you and moving Namjoon out of your way.

"I'll go wait outside." He told you and you nodded watching him leave the room and then staring at the doctor who was questioning you on what happened while he got everything ready to glue it back together.

"I fell down a flight of stairs." You told him and he chuckled at you, removing the cloth from your head and starting his work.

(X)

"Don't get that wet for a week, and avoid going in high places and stress." The doctor said as you walked out of the small office together and into the hallway, Yoongi looked up from the floor and saw you focusing on what the doctor was telling you when you turned around he felt his world crumble. You looked awful, you still had blood down your face and you looked as though you'd been crying the whole time,

"What are you doing here?" You grumbled walking away from the small office to find a pharmacy in the hospital, they'd prescribed you some medication for the headache you had.

"I came to check on you." You nodded and handed the small piece of paper in,

"I'm fine. You checked. Leave." You said bluntly sitting down in a chair and waiting but he sat down next to you,

"Yoongi, I'm sure all those other partners of yours will be pissed if you're here with me." He stared at you and then down at your hands, you were nervously playing with your fingers.

"You know I didn't mean that." You shook your head at him and stared straight ahead instead of at him.

"You meant it, why else would you have said it?" You whispered to him not wanting to fight anymore, your throat hurt and so did your head.

"I didn't. There's no one else, I said it because I was in a bad mood." Yoongi went to take hold of your hand but you snatched it away from him going over to the counter and picking up the medication.

"You're not supposed to go home alone, will he be taking you?" The nurse asked once she noticed Yoongi by your side,

"Yeah, I'll make sure she's okay." You stared at him while he walked you out of the pharmacy and towards the exit of the hospital,

"This doesn't mean I forgive you." You whispered to him as you got into the waiting car for you.

"How can I prove that I haven't cheated on you?" He questioned and you stared at him, you were normally great at telling when he was lying to you but right now you didn't know what to believe, it felt like your world had been turned upside down and you started crying again,

"I don't know Yoongi." You whispered and he pulled you close to him, wiping the tears from under your eyes and never wanting to let go of you.

"I promise you, I pinky promise, I'll take an oath, I'll do whatever it takes." You looked up at him and he was tearing up, his lip wasn't twitching which was something he did when he lied and he looked down at you holding eye contact. Something he couldn't do when he lied to you,

"You really didn't-"

"I couldn't, I love you too much to even think about it...I was just trying to hurt you." You stared up at him and bit your lip,

"I love you too Yoongi." He kissed your head and you hissed as he almost touched the cut above your eye,

"Sorry." He whispered looking at you and sighing, he couldn't believe he'd done this to you.

"We'll get you back to the hotel and I'll run a bath, order room service and we'll do whatever you want once you're cleaned up." You nodded at him and laid your head on his shoulder wanting to close your eyes for a little while but he kept you awake with conversation knowing you couldn't sleep right away just yet.

Hoseok:

You stared down at the phone bill for the month and rang up the company to pay for it when they told you it was already paid, it was the same with your rent and then your student bill. Hoseok took over your payments when he moved into your apartment, you didn't want that. You didn't want him to start paying for everything because it was your life, your bills to be in charge of but he didn't see it that way. He saw it as you were living together and should share the financial benefits he had.

"You just don't get it." You whispered as you paced around the shared bedroom, he looked up from the Ipad he was watching back dancing videos from that day to make sure that the choreography was working.

"I just don't see the problem with me paying for things for you." You stared at him, it had been a reoccurring fight between you both.

"Because you're rich, you don't have to understand it but I do, I work my ass off for the money and I want to be able to pay for my bills." He stared at you and locked the iPad.

"So quit, I can manage the bills on my own." You threw your hands into the air groaning as he still didn't get it,

"I don't want to quit Hobi, I enjoy my job."

"Then spend your money on other things." You stared at him and rolled your eyes, the conversation was going nowhere.

"I don't know what else you want me to say," He said to you getting up from the bed and staring at you,

"Let me pay for my bills, let me use my money." He shook his head at you.

"You don't have to anymore-"

"I want to! I want to pay for my own things! I don't want you to turn around one day and tell me I'm using you for your fucking money!" You finally cracked and he stared at you from across the room, you'd never yelled at him like this. Even when you were fighting you never yelled.

"I won't," He whispered to you and you rolled your eyes again which made him mad,

"I won't! Why do you always think the worst in every situation." You stared at him and he was red in the face, you'd only ever seen him this angry at someone who touched you in a club one night.

"You always so you don't want my money, do you know what I think!? I think you don't want to use it because you're just going to leave me!"

"That's what you think? If that's really what you think maybe I should just walk out right now and save the trouble later!" You screamed running out of the room and out of the apartment, you didn't stop running until you were as far away from the apartment as possible, finding a wall and leaning against it. You were out of breath and your heart was beating so fast you were sure it was going to jump out of your chest. You stood up straight and felt the world spinning faster than usual, you used the wall to steady yourself as you walked further down the road but it was no use, your legs gave out from underneath you and you passed out on the floor.

(X)

When you woke up in the hospital and tried to leave they stopped you, telling you that they couldn't let you leave without someone with you. The medication they'd prescribed was dangerous for someone who was new to them, so you called Taehyung telling him not to tell Hoseok about it or any of the boys.

"You're going to have to tell Hoseok when you go home." You shook your head and he stared at you confused,

"No, I won't." You grunted as you sat up in the bed he stared at you not knowing what to do.

"We're done. I'll find my own place and he won't have to know I was even hurt." You told Taehyung as you thought back to the fight you'd had.

"You're done?"

"We broke up Tae." He stared at you and then down at his phone, he was getting multiple texts from Hoseok asking if he'd seen you but he ignored them wanting to know your side of the story before he decided if he was going to tell Hoseok where you were and what happened to you but he felt bad for lying to Hoseok.

(X)

"What happened!?" Hoseok yelled as he walked through the door, you stared up from the book at him and then at Tae who was trying to sneak out of the room,

"Tae!" You yelled as he slipped through the door leaving you and Hoseok alone to talk, you stared at him and he raised his eyebrow at you.

"I passed out." You said bluntly looking at the book again but he took it from your arms and set it on the table,

"And you just didn't think it was important to tell your boyfriend?" You stared at him,

"I don't have a boyfriend, remember?" He stared at you and remembered the conversation you'd been having when you walked out and he sat on the chair next to your bed.

"You think we'd break up over something so small?" You nodded your head at him,

"We should, you think I'm going to leave you." You felt like crying but you weren't about to sit and cry in front of him but he was already crying,

"I didn't mean it, I was just-"

"Upset? Annoyed? Pissed off?" He nodded and you stared at him,

"That's how I feel when you won't let me pay my own bills Hoseok." He groaned sitting back in the chair, were you about to repeat the same fight over and over again?

"I just don't see the problem." You sat back against the bed and stared at him,

"I don't want to rely on your money Hobi, I don't want people to think I'm with you just for that...I'm so used to making my own way that I don't think I'm ready for someone else to just take over everything." He nodded in agreement, it was the first time you were both having a serious conversation about it all.

"Why didn't you say that before?" You moved over on the bed and let him get in next to you,

"Because I thought you'd understand," You leant your head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder looking at the wall in front of you.

"When can you go home?" He questioned while rubbing your arm,

"They're just getting me some medication and then I can leave whenever I want." He nodded and you stared up at him,

"Am I coming home with you?" He nodded,

"Whatever home is there?" You smiled and relaxed against his touch and he kissed the top of your head.

Namjoon:

Namjoon and you had been fighting all morning and it wasn't letting up any time soon, you couldn't even remember what started it all you knew is you wanted it to stop. You wanted to crawl under the covers with him and go to sleep in his arms but he was too annoyed for that.

"Fuck, I don't even know why we're together anymore!" He yelled at you and it felt like he'd just shot shards of glass into your body and you stared at him from across the living room.

"You don't?" You whispered as you realised how serious he was about this now,

"Yeah! Why are we together?! All we do is fight! Are you even happy with me?" You nodded at him but he shook his head at you,

"I'm not happy."

"You're not happy with me?" He ignored the question and continued ranting at you, but you weren't listening you were trying to piece together the fact that he'd just told you he wasn't happy with you, how long had he felt that way?

"I'm not good enough for you am I?" You whispered to him and he stared at you not hearing what you'd said because you were whispering.

"I think you should just leave, we're not good for each other." You stared at him, he was serious about everything he was saying so you nodded.

"I'll go pack a bag." You stuttered pushing past him to go into the bedroom, he sat on the sofa and closed his eyes shaking his head at the fight you'd been having.

When you came back down he was asleep on the sofa, you resisted the urge to rush in there and cover him up with a blanket or to wake him up and move him to the bedroom. It wasn't your job anymore. You took the key to the apartment out of your pocket and sat it on the coffee table, getting up and leaving the apartment. Tears streaming down your cheeks as you walked around the streets wondering where you could even go now, you couldn't go to the other boys and you didn't have enough money on you for a hotel room. You sat down on a park bench and looked up at the sky, the stars were twinkling and the moon was shining the world around you was still moving and working as though yours hadn't just come crashing down around you. You groaned out as it started raining heavily, you held the bag you had over your head and got up trying to find some shelter to stay under until the rain would let up.

(X)

Hoseok sat beside you in the hotel room while the doctor spoke to you about the danger you put yourself in by going out in the middle of the night in the rain, they'd rang him up when you were brought in because he was your emergency contact.

"Did you even listen to him?!" He asked in a panicked tone, you'd been best friends with him for years, long before you started dating Namjoon which is why he was your emergency contact and not Namjoon. You ignored his question and turned to look at him with no emotion on your face but your eyes full of tears,

"You can leave now. I'm fine." You muttered to him turning back to look at the wall in front of your bed but he wasn't going to let you do this to yourself. He walked out of the room and called Namjoon instantly, demanding answers from him but as soon as Namjoon heard the words 'Hospital' and 'sick' he hung up the phone and made his way to the hospital to find you.

(X)

"You called him?" You asked when Namjoon entered the room, Hoseok stared at you both,

"You had a fight?" You both stayed silent and he knew the answer, he also knew how stubborn you could both be so he left the room and let you manage it between you both.

"What are you doing here?" You questioned him and he stared at you, he started taking off his hoodie and handed it to you but when you didn't take it he laid it on your lap.

"I'm here because you're sick." You stared at him and shrugged your shoulders at him,

"I'm not your problem anymore, We broke up." He stared at you and ran his hands through his hair frustrated at himself for even suggesting that he didn't want to be with you anymore,

"We're not good for each other, you told me to leave." He took your hand in his and was shaking his head rapidly,

"I never meant anything I said," You stared at him and then over at the wall, anywhere was better than looking at him right now whenever you looked at him it hurt your chest,

"You still said it though Namjoon, it has to mean something if you said it..."

"No, no it doesn't. I was being an idiot, the biggest, most dumb idiot ever." You stared at him and he was gripping onto your hands, tears rolling down his cheeks he was terrified of losing you and when he found out you were sick and in hospital he was worried half to death, rushing here as quickly as possible even contemplating stealing Jin's car.

"You're not an idiot." You grumbled at him and he nodded,

"I am." You scoffed at him,

"You have an IQ of 148-"

"That means nothing, I'm still an idiot for letting you walk out of that door...I've just been stressing over everything and I projected it all onto you and it wasn't fair." You stared at him as he went onto a small rant about why he'd done and said what he had.

"I never meant a single word, I know why I'm with you." He sat on the edge of your bed, your hands were still locked together and he began to list everything off,

"You're the love of my life, my muse, my everything. You're the person I go to with everything, you hold every secret I've had. You're the first person I think about when I wake up and the last one I think of when I go to sleep. You're never not on my mind." You were tearing up but he continued going until you pulled him closer to you and kissed him roughly to shut him up, his hands worked their way into your hair and he pulled you closer to him, never letting you go for as long as possible.

tagline: 

@yoongisdumplingcheeks​ @snowy-meowl​ @lynnthevirgo​ @yourguessisasgoodasminemate​ @kpopfanfictionhoes​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @callingmyangel​ @rjsmochii​ @fan-ati--c​

[hanawrites404]

Journey

@oc-growth-and-development

(trigger warning : smoking, mention of death)

Another day, another restorative morning, as if nothing else can motivate me enough to finally cut my laze and start the new day already.

I got off my bed and my eyes instinctively gazed out the window beside me at the wall. As usual, there wasn't much outside, just the same trees and lawns you would find in any other neighbourhood, yet I never seem to get tired of looking at them over and over every time I wake up. It was like a part of my everyday morning ritual which I definitely shouldn't miss, and honestly, I was fine with it. I was not the type of person to actively look for spices in my life after all, and even if I start to crave for it someday, I just wait for it to come to me.

Otherwise, everything just gotta be restful, that's all I want, to be honest.

The water was pleasantly chill to bathe in, too, and so was the dawn's sea breeze swishing through the balcony as soon as the curtains were tucked out and the windows were pulled open. If anything warm right now, it was the brisk sun and the brimming cup of steaming café au lait thawing my bare arms and fingers as I stepped out to lean onto the grill of my terrace. My feet were bare as well, touching the cool tiles beneath them as I felt the tingling sensation through my nerves.

I was still in my pyjamas, my hair up in a bun and it was still seven. Other than some elder citizens walking outside to get the minty air rushing and stray cats and dogs yawning and stretching, the scene in front of me was almost deserted.

It all felt quiet, but it wasn't prickly. The birds were still tweeting, the bulk of leaves rustled in a shimmer, and I could even hear my sigh as I blew the hot vapour from my cup, my lips slowly savouring the coffee bit by bit. It was very peaceful, I liked it.

But unfortunately, it wasn't real.

"미스......미스.....일어나 미스!"

I jolted up from the unfamiliar voice presumably calling out for me. So it was all a dream? I wasn't enjoying a utopian morning at my balcony back in Miami?? But it all felt so real....from the taste of coffee to the warmth I felt of the drink. So it was all my imagination? Wow huh....looks like the power of my mind is going to be a mystery to me for a while. I never knew that my brain could fool me into believing that I was relaxing at my home, and not dozing off in a Korean tourist bus.

"Ugghmm...Huh?" Still groggy from my sleep, I blinked twice before looking outside the window of the bus. By the look of it, I think we had come to the final stop. Before letting out anything else from my mouth, I silently turned my gaze onto the one who broke my slumber, namely the bus conductor.

He is looking right at me. Come on, say something....!!

"U-Ummm...." I stumbled, my index slowly moving to point at the complex the bus had stopped near at.

"역???" I cringed as I tried to pronounce the exotic word. Fuck. I didn't expect my voice to crack right in front of the bus conductor. And before anyone raises a question, no. I don't know Korean. I just happened to memorize only the important words I might need to communicate during my journey to Korea. But while I was still at home I felt pretty confident in myself, what happened to me now? It wasn't unusual of me, I am a human after all and I get nervous at times too. Yet it was.... surprising.

Hmm...it must be the anxiety of being in an alien country where everything is different from what I am aware of and what I have experienced so far. Different ambience, different language, and different people. Very strange and foreign, to be frank. But fresh and young, like a bite of a ripe green apple.

Nevertheless, the conductor just laughed at me and patted my shoulder very strongly. Ouch but Woah, now I could see why he was hired as the conductor. Strong arms, sharp eyes, along with a charm of his own to make people at ease. Even to a 'lost' newcomer like me.

"Yes yes! 역! Correct! Wanna come out??" With a grin twinkling on his bright face, he stepped away to let me through. I felt more relaxed than before as soon as I heard English from him, and it was pretty fluent too.

A small relieved smile broke on my lips too as I grab hold of my guitar case and my backpack and get up. My legs had gotten a bit numb inside my boots from not moving them much throughout the ride, and my jacket was almost off my shoulders.

"감사합니다" I quickly muttered before adjusting everything on me and stepping out of the bus. I didn't want to stammer again and, even if I wasn't in a hurry, I still wanted to make sure I reach where I was called to at an early hand.

"Have a safe journey!" The conductor waved at me, and I gladly turned around to return the gesture before entering the lobby. After I had made it inside, I left my belongings at a convenient place and went to the bathroom to fix my face and clothes.

I had been travelling for almost twenty hours; An eighteen-hour flight and a two-hour bus. It was back-to-back, and hardly I had the time to refresh myself properly and smoke a bit, but now was my chance to do so before I carry on to reach my destination.

With the help of the large mirror on the wall, I first removed my contact lenses and then washed my face and combed my hair. It had grown pretty long. But I wasn't planning on cutting them any sooner. I also dusted my jacket and jeans off and straightened my t-shirt inside.

After I was sure everything had been set, I put my lenses back on and vaguely looked around the room, and finding no one except me, I quickly stand near the ventilator above me and light my cigarette. What I was doing right now poses a threat to my health and is illegal, but this was a guilty pleasure of mine. I admit it shamelessly because why not. I have nothing to lose. We all are gonna die one day, so it's better we make the most of our lives and I was just doing that. Nothing more, nothing less.

Just because I said I don't seek adventure vigorously, does not mean I don't have any thrill in my life at all. I do have it. Everyone has it. You just gotta make it interesting in your way, and that's how you gotta roll, champ.

Anyways, after a couple of puffs, I got disposed of the cigar and shooed off the smoke around me. It was only after everything seemed clear that I washed my life hands and dried them, then left the restroom and grabbed my luggage back before I started to stride again, to the reception counter.

After all the formalities were taken care of, I finally breathed the outside air of Korean afternoon. The sun was luminous and overhead, but the heat wasn't as severe as back in Miami. The number of clouds here are much more than there, or was it just for this particular day? I had no idea.

I am not a tourist here. I came here for a business trip, you can say. A man from here, a freelancing musical artist, had personally requested and invited me for a musical collaboration. The deal itself sounded quite intriguing, also with the fact that I'm half-Korean thanks to my father's lineage, yet ironically I have neither ever seen Korea with my own eyes nor I have witnessed its culture. Until today, that is.

So here I am now, strolling in the middle of the bustling city surrounded by college students touring around, laughing and talking with their classmates and munching on unique dishes and snacks I had never seen before. And while I was busy observing them, someone bumped into me, breaking my contact.

"Oh! 실례합니다!" It was a young blond guy, wearing a light blue hoodie with a couple of smiley badges pinned to his chest. He quickly bowed after apologizing and for briefly taking a glance at my face, hastily trots in the opposite direction. I eyed him, judging by his clothes and the books he was carrying in his arms, he looked like a college student. Hmm...no wonder why he was in a hurry. He must be late to class or something.

But anyway, I continued walking. That musical man had told me to wait near the back alley of a coffee shop that was close to the station. Hmm, that would be easy to locate. The coffee shop was right in front of me! Hah, how easy.

And so, without wasting any time, I ambled towards the cafè. It was a cute little shop, in my opinion. The smell of roasted coffee beans and bubbling creamy milk was evident in the atmosphere, and the colour scheme of the shop had pallettes of vanilla and caramel. It was like I had entered not a shop but inside a nestling coffee cup! Pretty cool, especially for someone who loves coffee like me.

Also, a bunch of customers were inside too. This place was not lonely at all. Some couples were on a date, singles who just want peace of mind with a complimentary cup of coffee, and business workers too! To be honest, I liked one of the employee's suits too. It was of a short brunette woman with glasses. She was kind of cute too. And by how she was still typing away rapidly on her phone even while on her break, tells how much of a busy woman she must be. Damn, God forbid that I ever be this much busy in my career.

Working even at breaks. Scary, in my opinion.

Needless to say, that wasn't why I was here for. The city was new to me so naturally, I would be curious, but business comes first in such a case. And in this case, it's my case. So bringing myself back to schedule, I leave to the back alley, waiting for that man so we could finally meet after talking through emails and phone calls.

But......what was that man's name again?

Ah....Zen.....

Hmm, weird name. But as someone who prefers to be called CJ than Catherine Joseph, I am no one to say so. Or even judge so.

Zen......I wonder what kind of person he would be in flesh. Same friendly and confident as the impression of him in my mind? Or just some different personality I never saw coming? Well, only time will tell that. But right now, we wait.

[joonni]

I was tagged by @4hayi thank you love, it’s been so long since I’ve done one of these😁💕

Relationship status: it’s complicated but like,,, almost in a relationship? lmao😭

Favorite color: orannnnnnge

Three favorite foods: sushi, japchae and anything with tomatoes

Song stuck in my head: strawberry swing - frank ocean/coldplay

Last thing I googled: muji stores in Berlin (they were closed bc it was a Sunday fml ;;)

Anything I really want: to get my life together lol

Last show I watched: hunter x hunter

Last movie I watched: uhh I’m not sure I remember

Tea or Coffee: gotta have my coffee

Sweet, spicy, or savory: usually spicy

Time where I am: 15:46

and while I’m at it let me do another “get to know me” tag in which I was tagged by @sugasugakookies 💖

What day is your birthday? July 6th

What’s your favourite colour? orannnnnnnnnnnnge

What’s your lucky number? don’t really have one

Do you have any pets? nope :(

How tall are you? 173cm

How many pairs of shoes do you own? don’t ask, probably way more than I need

Favourite song? changes all the time, but maybe you’d find it on frank ocean’s album blond

Favourite movie? a czech film called pelíšky

What would be your ideal partner? the one I’m seeing atm if we could see each other more often

Do you want children? still not sure, deffo not right now or in the near future

Have you gotten in trouble with the law? maybe crossed the speed limit but never got a ticket :p

Bath or shower? shower please, baths get cold too fast

What colour socks are you wearing? none lol

Favourite type of music? rnb, indie and DON’T SORT MUSIC INTO GENRES I hate to classify music, but I listen mostly to songs on the “chill” side of the spectrum

How many pillows do you sleep with? a big one and many smaller ones

What position do you sleep in? on my side, usually hugging a second blanket

What you don’t like when you’re sleeping? a mosquito flying around my head when I’m trying to fall asleep. the absolute worst. 

What do you have for breakfast? usually some kind of bread with some spread/cheese

Have you ever tried archery? maybe once and I suck at it

Favourite fruit? I love all fruit honestly but apricots, strawberries and blueberries

Favourite swear word? after a trip to berlin, it’s scheiße

Do you have any scars? oh yeah, from falling over a bicycle, from other stupid things I’ve done as a kid😂

Are you a good liar? depends on what I’m lying about (?)

What’s your personality type? INFP

What’s your favourite type of girl? a girl who doesn’t talk crap about anyone behind their back, easygoing but responsible

Left or right handed? right handed

Favourite food? refer to the tag above

Favourite foreign food? all of those are foreign so.. lol

Are you clean or messy? depends on my mood lol

Most used phrase? oh maaayn

How long does it take for you to get ready? to do groceries? 5minutes, to go out with friends? half an hour

Do you talk to yourself? who doesn’t?

Do you sing to yourself? who doesn’t???

Are you a good singer? I’d like to think so but my range is average

Biggest fear? creepy insects, spiders, not being good enough🤡oopsie

Are you a gossip? not really

Do you like long or short hair? everyone suits a different hairstyle, I love my long hair now but who knows when I’ll change my mind

Favourite school subject? languages and art history

Extrovert or introvert? ambivert

What makes you nervous? spoken exams, leaving on trips (but that’s the good kind of nervous - did I forget something important???)

Who was your first real crush? a friend I went to elementary school with (I had a crush on him way later tho)

How many piercings do you have? one in my left and three in my right ear (only earrings basically)

How fast can you run? lmao no idea, didn’t measure myself in a long while and I don’t like running :(

What colour is your hair? dark brown

What makes you angry? inconsiderate selfish people, that the world is revolving around money and not human values, that most stores in Germany are closed on Sundays and I couldn’t buy more stationery in muji (lol I’m half kidding with that one)

Do you like your own name? I don’t mind it (Tereza) but I prefer the nickname I got in Korea (Teri) because everyone outside of my country somehow associates my name with religion and..?? I’m not about that.

Do you want a boy or a girl as a child? if I ever decide I want a child, I wouldn’t mind either.

What are your strengths? I’m honest (could be a weakness too tho lol), I care about my people and I stand up for myself

What are your weaknesses? I trust others easily, I’m a bit of a perfectionist and sometimes I speak before I think (oh man)

What’s the colour of your bedspread? a brown bedsheet and white linen. 

Colour of your room? cream/off-white that I mixed and painted myself lol

whew, that was a long one! let me tag my dear mutuals @kooala, @memeofthesoul, @pathtospring, @cultleaderyoongi, @bangtan-madi, @flowerseokjin, @flowerkth ❤ 

[elsanna-shenanigans]

August Contest Submission #11: Fleurs Anciennes

Words: ca. 5,000 Setting: Canon Lemon: lime CW: None

The sudden jolt from the train woke Elsa from her light doze. It no longer surprised her to suddenly wake from an unexpected nap, they happened often enough nowadays. Warm breath puffed against her neck. She looked down at Anna sleeping peacefully on her shoulder. Hair, having lost its bright red color to a snowy white years ago, tickled her nose and Elsa lifted a hand to caress her sister’s wrinkled cheek.

Tomorrow would be forty-five years together.

There were many things Elsa forgot over the years, the first time she used her powers, the sound of their parent’s voices, the names of the various princes who tried to court her. But she’d never forget Anna’s tearful confession that night in the library.

“I can’t do this anymore! I can’t keep pretending I only love you like a sister. I want to hold you, and kiss you, and take you to bed. If we could, I’d ask you to marry me and be by your side forever. I- I’m in love with you.”

Neither would she ever forget that first desperate, clumsy kiss, her response to Anna’s confession when words failed to move past her own lips. Now they were set to celebrate their anniversary at the Paris World’s Fair tomorrow. Yes, they would have to attend the opening celebration as Arendelle’s ceremonial ambassadors and stop by their country’s display but then the rest of the day, and the entire week afterwards, would belong to them.

Knock. Knock.

“Your Majesties, the train will be arriving in about fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, Tabatha.” Despite them both abdicating the throne fifteen years ago after Arendelle officially became a democracy, most citizens of Arendelle persisted in addressing them by their former royal title. 

“Annaaaa…” Gentle shaking of her sister’s knee. “It’s time to get up.”

“Five more minutes…” faint snores

It didn’t matter if Anna was five or sixty-five, waking her up tended to be a long, slow process. 

“Anna, we’re almost there.” Shake shake. “Time to wake up.” Shake.

“Ugh. Do I have to?” Anna sat up and tiredly rubbed her eyes.

“Yes, my love.” Years ago Elsa stopped trying to figure out how her sister’s hair could stand up on its own. “Turn your back towards me and I’ll fix your hair.”

“Hmmm, thank you.” 

Soft lips brushed against hers in a sleepy kiss. Before Anna could pull back, Elsa stopped her with a tender touch to her cheek and deepened the kiss.

“Oh,” wide, no longer sleepy, smile, “I’m awake now.”

“Good. Now turn around.”

“Right.” Anna stole one more quick kiss then she turned to face the window. 

Nimble fingers picked apart the untidy bun and smoothed down the wild locks.  Elsa fastened the last pin in Anna’s hair when the train began to slow its speed.

Paris. 

Though not their first time in the famous French city, they still eagerly watched people and carriages drift by on crowded streets. 

Elsa’s gaze moved from the window to watch the love of her life instead.

Teal eyes moved from the window and met hers. 

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Elsa shrugged casually, “just enjoying the view.”

Eyes rolled but she didn’t miss the light dusting of pink on wrinkled cheeks.

Squealing brakes grew louder, signaling their final approach into the station. Shouts in French announcing, Elsa assumed since she didn’t speak the language, for all passengers to disembark for Paris could barely be heard over the hissing release of steam.

Knock. Knock.

“Come in.” 

Tabatha opened the compartment’s door, curtsied respectfully, then efficiently began gathering their personal belongings.

“Kaarina and Polk are going to the luggage car.”

“I can help with the bags, Tabatha.” 

“Please take your time; I will wait for you on the platform.” Another curtsy, and Tabatha, easily carrying three bags including her own, exited into the corridor. 

“Or not,” Anna grumbled.

Chuckling, Elsa rubbed her sister’s back comfortingly. Not once since Tabatha took over after Gerda’s retirement did she let either of them help with even the simple tasks. Absolute horror would be the only way she could describe the look on her face the first time they offered to help. She looked about ready to burst into tears when Gerda picked up their breakfast plates and declared Tabatha should ignore them. She followed that advice ever since.

They helped each other don their respective shawls; dark blue with Arendelle’s coat of arms stitched in silver thread for Elsa and the same for Anna but in dark green. 

Elsa’s eyes flicked to the compartment’s window and sighed unhappily.

This is why she preferred not to travel outside of Arendelle. Back home she could openly show affection for her sister and no one batted an eye at quick little pecks on the lips. Their relationship was an unacknowledged open secret. 

Anna passed over Elsa’s ice cane and they carefully made their way off the train. On the bustling platform they were greeted by a tall man in a perfectly tailored gray suit.

“His name is Radford, he welcomes us to Paris, and will escort us to the hotel,” Anna whispered in her ear.

The only foreign language Elsa could manage with ease was English while Anna had an ear for them and could freely converse in six different languages. An immensely helpful skill over the years when they traveled outside of Arendelle.

Once Kaarina and Polk arrived, both carrying a trunk, the small party followed Radford out of the station, over the wooden footbridge leading directly to the front steps of the Grand Hotel Terminus, and to the door of their suite on the top floor.

Anna smiled as she spoke with Radford.

Still unable to understand a word being said, Elsa’s gaze wandered to the lavishly decorated hallway lit by the new electric lights. She sighed enviously. Equipping the castle with these amazing electric lights would have to be a task for the next generation in charge of the castle. She’d looked into it already; cost and logistics made it impossible at this time. 

“Oui, Madam.” Radford handed Tabatha their room key.

Elsa’s attention returned to the tall man talking with her sister.

“Passe un bon séjour s'il te plaît.” He bowed deeply then walked briskly back to the elevator.

“He said for us to enjoy our stay.” 

Tabatha unlocked the door and held it open for them to enter.

There were advantages to being known as the old, eccentric, spinster sisters. No one questioned them insisting on only having their own servants take care of things. Pretending to sleep in different beds, keeping a respectful distance, curbing the affectionate little touches, anything that an unknown, foreign servant might find odd didn’t matter. 

Kaarina, Polk, and Tabatha walked right into the larger bedroom to deposit the luggage.

“I asked for dinner to be brought up to our room in thirty minutes. Unless you wanted to go out?” 

“No.” Now in the privacy of their room, Elsa leaned her cane against a nearby wingback chair and wrapped her arms around Anna’s neck. Three weeks of foreign guests and preparations for this trip had left them with horribly little alone time together. She had no intention of squandering this time with eating out.

“Good.” Anna’s arms wrapped around Elsa’s waist and pulled her close. “An evening alone with you sounds wonderful.”

Lips brushed against hers.

“Absolutely wonderful.” The whispered words were barely audible.

“Ahem.”

Elsa turned her head to smile at Kaarina and Polk. Years of having servants walk in on them kissing ceased to cause embarrassment anymore.

“Tabatha is unpacking your trunks, Your Majesties.”

“Thank you. Enjoy your stay with your cousin…” Elsa searched her memory, “Marie, was it?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Kaarina grinned widely. “It’s been five years since we’ve seen her and the kids.”

“Have a pleasant visit. We will see you on the fourteenth.” 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Both bowed then hastily exited from the room.

“I guess they were eager to start their holiday,” Elsa chuckled. 

“Mmmm…” Anna placed a lingering kiss on Elsa’s neck. “They aren’t the only ones.”

“Tabatha is still here.” Her cheeks warmed. Quick, little licks were added to the kisses landing on her neck. Elsa’s knees wobbled.

“There’s a spare bedroom.”

Forty-five years together and Anna was still temptation on two legs.

“N-no.” Elsa stepped back out of her sister’s arms. They were dirty from traveling all day, they didn’t have dinner yet, they were not alone… and there was an unoccupied spare bedroom.

Distraction.

They both needed a distraction.

Eyes flicked around the room. The balcony was out, the evening was still fairly chilly and she did not want to chance Anna getting ill. The dining area was also out, while beautiful with its intricately carved table and chairs, no distractions could be seen. The spare bedroom was absolutely off limits. The seating area… 

She had never been so grateful to see a tiny stack of letters before.

“We have correspondence to answer.”

“Of course we do.” Anna handed Elsa her cane and they walked over to the ornate desk. “Do we need to accept any of these?”

“No.” She quickly looked through them before handing them over. Luckily, there were only four letters. Unluckily, they were certainly all in a different language, meaning Anna would have to answer them herself. 

“Do I need to add anything special?” In the drawer Anna found a letter opener and began breaking the seals.

“No, just the standard declining of the invitation.” 

With nothing to do while Anna wrote, Elsa wondered about the room. Electric lights glowed bright as the sun began to set. Again, she wished it were possible to equip Arendelle Castle with such technology. There was even a telephone to communicate directly with the service staff. A truly marvelous new hotel.

On the dining room table she spotted her book. Tabatha must have set it there earlier.

Elsa retrieved it and settled onto the comfortable Chesterfield, eager to read more of the new character detective Sherlock Holmes and his friend Dr. Watson.

Fully immersed in the story, the knock on the door with their dinner nearly caused Elsa to drop her book.

“Careful there, don’t want to lose your place.”

“Anna!” This time she did drop her book. Elsa turned to see her sister sitting beside her. “How long have you been there?”

“About ten minutes, I guess,” she chuckled and picked up Elsa’s book. “This must be good. I’ll have to read this after you.”

“Your Majesties, dinner is served.”

“Thank you, Tabatha.” Anna handed over the ice cane and escorted Elsa, still a bit dazed from being startled from her book so suddenly, to the table.

They sat down to two plates of steamed salmon, rice, and mushrooms. Conversation flowed easily from one topic to another; the opening ceremony for the World’s Fair tomorrow (“Ugh. I don’t want to get up that early. Can we skip it?”), things they were missing in Arendelle (“Kristoff was so excited. He and Bonnie get the grandkids for two weeks!”), books they had read (“That Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde book was creepy.”), what they would like to do during their week in Paris (“Could we go to the Louvre? We missed it last time.”), and even who to extend invitations to Arendelle next (“Ariel and Eric or Belle and Adam?”).

“I have drawn your bath. Is there anything you require of me before I bid you goodnight?” Tabatha folded her hands primly in front of her, ready to fulfill any request they might have.

“No, that will be all for the night.” Elsa smiled, eager to soak in the hot water. 

“Very well. Pleasant dreams, Your Majesties.” She gathered the empty plates to drop off on the way to her own room.

“Sweet dreams! Feel free to sleep in tomorrow.” Anna grinned hopefully.

Elsa rolled her eyes.

“Goodnight, Tabatha. We’ll see you early tomorrow morning.”

“What do you two have against sleep?” They both ignored Anna’s muttering though Elsa caught a slight quirk of the servant’s lips.

Tabatha bobbed a curtsy and silently left the room.

“Now,” Elsa grabbed her cane and began walking to the bathroom, “you can continue grumbling or you can join me for a bath.”

“Bath.” Footsteps hurried after her. “Definitely the bath.”

* * * * * 

Elsa concentrated on keeping her balance without the aid of a cane while she dried her hair. She hummed contentedly at finally feeling clean for the first time since they left Arendelle. Getting to lay in Anna’s arms for the last fifteen minutes while the water cooled had been exactly what she needed. Travel never allowed them much privacy and they’d been traveling for four days. 

Carefully, she stepped over to the counter with her cane. Elsa stopped halfway there. A full length mirror, fogged only along its edges with condensation, reflected her image back at her. Back in Arendelle, the candlelight did not shine nearly as brightly as these electric lights and every aging imperfection was perfectly illuminated in this light. Her once slim, hourglass figure now carried a bit more weight about her stomach and thighs, her breasts sagged and she now required undergarments for her clothes to fit correctly, and wrinkles were no longer confined to her face, they now covered her whole body.

She frowned.

Arms wrapped around Elsa from behind.

“Hey there, beautiful.”

“I don’t know about-“

“Ah ah ah.” Anna’s hand covered Elsa’s mouth, stopping her words. “What have I said? I will not tolerate anyone speaking badly about the woman I love even…” she removed her hand.

Elsa sighed.

“Ahem,” Anna raised an eyebrow.

“…even if that’s me.” Warmth spread at the sincerity of Anna’s smile.

“That’s right.” She placed a kiss on Elsa’s bare shoulder.

Turning around in Anna’s arms, Elsa leaned in and kissed her, taking time to slowly deepen it. Every single day this wonderful woman showed her how incredibly loved she was. 

“You know…” Elsa brushed her lips along a very familiar jaw. “We’re finally alone. No foreign visitors, no servants, no responsibilities until tomorrow…”

“Hmmm…” Eyes closed.

“The bed looked quite comfortable.”

“It is time for bed.” Anna’s hands rested decidedly lower than Elsa’s waist.

Arms resting on Anna’s shoulders, Elsa pressed her firmly backwards out of the bathroom. They could get her cane later.

Much later.

* * * * *

Elsa concentrated on Anna’s whispered translation of the opening ceremony of the World’s Fair and not the engineering marvel of the Eiffel Tower towering over them. These speeches all followed the same script welcoming the politicians who supported the event, thanking the major donors by name, claiming this to be the event of the century, and all punctuated with long pauses for expected clapping. They both sat through too many of these sorts of ceremonies in their life.

Finally the last speaker invited the crowd to enjoy the World’s Fair and bowed to thunderous applause.

People around them wasted no time in standing to find their friends and not going through the entrance, this crowd didn’t seem particularly eager to join the masses of regular citizens streaming into the event.

Once the initial rush died down, they wove their way around chairs and groups of boisterous people.

“Queen Elsa! Queen Anna!” called a deep voice in English.

Two heads turned as one to see a clean shaven, silver-haired gentleman with golden spectacles hurry their way.

“Richard!” Anna hugged the man the instant he reached them.

“It is wonderful to see you ladies here.” Richard hugged Elsa next, his laughter carrying over the din of conversation.

“I didn’t expect to see you.” Why had England’s longtime Ambassador to Arendelle shown up here? Elsa knew nearly all of Europe’s monarchies refused to participate in this World’s Fair celebration of the French Revolution.

“Don’t tell Queen Victoria,” he whispered mischievously. “Mildred wanted to hear Thomas Edison’s new phonograph.”

“Where is that lovely wife of yours?” Anna looked quite serious, “someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, I completely agree, Your Majesty.” 

“Mildred!” Anna turned to face her best friend.

“Hello, Anna.” They hugged tightly, delighted smiles on both their faces. “How was your trip over?”

“Not too bad!” With that the two excitedly began chatting about their trips.

“You would think our wives hadn’t seen each other in months and not two weeks,” Richard whispered in Elsa’s ear.

Both shared an amused look.

Elsa watched the two best friends quickly catch up, old memories surfacing. Decades ago, Richard introduced the younger woman from town he had begun courting and the two women connected immediately. After that, Elsa no longer felt guilty the few times she and Richard needed to discuss matters of state over dinner. Anna and Mildred could, and still did, enjoy each other’s company for hours.

“Do you think they remember we’re here?” Elsa whispered back.

“Absolutely not.”

They laughed at the old shared joke.

“I think they’re laughing at us, Anna.”

“Yup. They certainly are.” 

“We would never laugh at you.” Elsa tried her best to keep the smile off her face. 

“Uh huh.” Anna rolled her eyes and turned her focus to Richard. “How long will you be in France?”

“Two weeks, then we return to Arendelle.”

“We’re here for a week. Maybe we can meet up for dinner one night?” Anna asked hopefully.

“I don’t think we have anything planned for Thursday, if you’re free.” Mildred stood at her husband’s side and slipped an arm through his.

“We are free.” Dinners with their closest friends were always a pleasure. “We can meet- OH!”

Something hit her side hard causing Elsa to drop her cane as she fell sideways.  She closed her eyes preparing for the painful impact of hard ground.

It never came.

Relief flooded Elsa when two familiar arms caught her.

“Are you alright?” 

Elsa could only nod, her heart racing from the scare.

“Good. Good.” The shaky sigh of relief told Elsa that the near-fall scared her sister, too.

Once upright, Elsa turned to see what knocked into her. On the ground lay a laughing young man reeking of wine.

“Pardon, pardon!” More laughter.

Barely nine in the morning and this stranger was already falling down drunk. Elsa held onto Anna’s arm tightly, her sister looking ready to kick the drunk man while he was still on the ground.

“Pardon!” He still giggled as he reached for the dropped cane.

“It’s okay, I can-”

“Don’t touch-“

“I wouldn’t do-“

Three voices tried to stop the man before he touched it, though Anna remained silent, her glare intense.

“Glacé!” He dropped it immediately and shook his hand. “Glacé!”

“No, no.” Richard helped the drunk man up. “Amis?”

“Quel?”

“Amis.”

“Oh.” The young man gestured vaguely behind him.

“We will take him back to his friends. Which hotel are you staying at?” Mildred asked after positioning herself at the man’s other side. It obviously would take both of them to get him anywhere.

“The Grand Hotel Terminus.” Elsa spoke up as Anna remained silent and glaring.

“We’ll meet you there before going to dinner. Does five o’clock sound fine?”

“Perfect. We will see you at five. Enjoy the World’s Fair.”

Once the three started walking over to a group of laughing and pointing people, Anna leaned down to pick up the ice cane muttering something that suspiciously sounded like ‘I should have accidentally stepped on him,’ which Elsa chose to ignore. Anna’s protectiveness, which started prior to their relationship, had not waned over the years and, honestly, neither had her own. She probably would have discreetly frozen his feet to the ground and iced his undergarments had it been Anna he knocked down.

“Here.” Anna handed her the cane.

“Thank you, my love.”

Anna smiled at the term of endearment. 

Now that her sister no longer looked ready to find that young man and punch him, Elsa hooked their arms together and directed their steps to where Arendelle’s pavilion lay. She would have loved to stay and take in the Eiffel Tower but there were other days for that, distracting Anna was more important and they would have to walk right through the, reportedly, stunning garden exhibits. The gardens back home were Anna’s favorite place to be, to the point where, decades ago, the gardeners cleared an area just for her use. 

“Don’t you want to-“

“Tomorrow.” She kept moving them forward. “We should start making our way over.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Mmhmm.”

They were only six meters into the garden area when Anna’s eyes widened and her head started swiveling back and forth trying to take everything in. 

Even Elsa, with only a casual enjoyment of gardens, could see how breathtaking these displays were. Flowers exploded with color everywhere, tall green bushes hid the rest of the World’s Fair from view, beautifully carved fountains bubbled noisily, and butterflies could be seen fluttering from plant to plant. They strolled slowly through this second Garden of Eden without saying a word.

About halfway through the exhibit, she saw a stall down a side path and immediately decided that she needed to distract Anna so she could sneak back.

It seemed luck was on her side today. 

One of the many roaming gardeners paused to prune a yellow rose bush. 

“Anna, do you mind if we stop for a few minutes? There’s an empty bench here and I’m a little tired.”

“Of course,” her sister frowned. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she couldn’t help chuckling before continuing, “someone kept me up late last night.”

“That was your own fault,” Anna purred in her ear and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

Elsa could feel her face warm up in a blush and she swallowed thickly.

“Y-y-yes. R-right.” All those years together and Anna could still fluster her with just a few words.

“Let’s get to that bench before anyone else, you seducer of younger women.” 

Completely speechless and face burning with heat, Elsa silently walked with Anna to the bench.

“Wait. I’m the only one who needs to rest,” the croaky sound of her voice betrayed her continued flustered state. “Why don’t you go look at the displays?”

“Are you sure?” Anna looked torn between staying with her and examining the garden displays.

“I’ll be fine. I just need a little rest.” She sat down and patted Anna’s side. “Go. Have fun.”

“Okay.” 

Elsa watched and waited.

Once her sister found herself no longer confined to the castle, her cheerful personality and eagerness to try new things helped her quickly learn the social skills they lacked after thirteen years of isolation. People naturally felt at ease around her and Anna enjoyed getting to know new people. There had been many times while Queen that Elsa used this to ease prickly meetings. They would both enter a room and before a word could be said, Kai would interrupt with a made up emergency that required Elsa’s urgent attention. By the time she returned ten minutes later, without fail, there would be smiles all around the room and the meeting would actually be productive.

It would only take Anna a few minutes to work her magic on the gardener then she’d be free to sneak away unnoticed.

Once the gardener nodded rapidly and started pointing at plants, Elsa stood and walked the two dozen steps to the side pathway spotted earlier. Another few dozen steps and Elsa reached the large wooden stall. The rich scent of chocolate filled the air and she pored over each of the five different assortment of chocolate boxes displayed. One glance at the chocolates in the purple box was all she needed. 

Box purchased and tucked in the small cloth bag at her wrist, which now held a discrete enchantment to keep it cool, Elsa hurried back to the bench. She needn’t have rushed. Anna and the gardener were still deep in conversation, oblivious to their surroundings. After five more minutes, and hating to break them up, she stood and called her sister over.

“Yes, Elsa?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, however, we should be going.”

“That’s alright.” Anna linked their arms together and they resumed their walk.

“It looked like a good conversation?” If the last five minutes she saw were any indication it was.

“Yup! Gustav is a third generation gardener and came all the way from Bourges to be part of this. He was telling me…” Anna began excitedly sharing her conversation with Gustav.

Anna talked about all she learned and how that might work in her own garden while they walked. Even though she probably only understood about fifty percent of the information, Elsa still contentedly listened and asked questions.

After twenty minutes their destination came into view.

“Oh, wow.”

Elsa could only nod in agreement.

Being a small, relatively unknown nation, Arendelle had been placed behind the other well known countries. The wooden structure before them was larger than most of the buildings back home. Expertly made carvings of the native animals decorated the four doorways, the traditional design found on most buildings of crocuses, straight lines, and chevrons painted in blues and purples decorated the whitewashed walls, and teal tiles sat on the roof instead of the more common brown. Multiple tiered sections of roof with pointed spires and the small balcony over the door on which a banner of Arendelle’s time-honored crest hung, gave Elsa the impression of her Ice Palace meshed with traditional Arendelle buildings. 

What took their breath away were the hundreds, if not thousands, of crocuses surrounding the building on all sides. They weren’t the common royal purple found everywhere, but the color of snow. They were so rare in Arendelle that local legend said they only grew outside of town, atop a specific hill, under an ancient tree because that was where two sisters promised each other a lifetime’s fidelity. The area could now be found on local maps as ‘The Queen’s Joy.’ Little did the town’s people know that every year Elsa and Anna would go to that hill and plant seeds harvested from those same flowers.

Tears pricked Elsa’s eyes.

“Queen Elsa! Queen Anna! You made it!” An older woman with gray hair hustled down the steps over to them.

“This is beautiful, Helga.” Elsa’s voice softened. “Thank you.”

“You both are so much a part of Arendelle and we wanted to show that.” Helga grinned, obviously happy at their awed reactions. 

“I knew the committee chose the right person!” Hugs all around as they praised the Master Carpenter even more, causing her to blush.

“Thank you both for recommending me. But I do have one favor to ask of you, Queen Elsa.” Helga looked hopefully over.

“If I can grant it, I will.” She wondered what it could be.

“In the initial plans, we included elements that were to mimic your ice designs. None of the prototypes worked so we scrapped it. Do you think… maybe…” 

Back when Elsa realized more and more people not from Arendelle believed the stories of her powers were just myths, she stopped using them outside of Arendelle lest they put a target on her, and thus her home, by some power-hungry nation.

Elsa looked around. 

There were no visitors this far back yet. Most of the crowd had headed to The Gallery of Machines and the few walking to the pavilions certainly were visiting the massive, beautiful building Argentina built. 

“Did you have something in mind?” Ideas sprung up immediately and she tried to ignore them.

“I’ll leave that to you, Your Majesty. I do have one small request though.” Helga nervously shifted from foot to foot.

“Yes?”

“Could you put your snowflake on the middle spire in front?”

“I can do that.”

“Wonderful!” Wide waving of Helga’s right arm caught her eye.

People streamed past until all thirty or so workers stood behind them.

“I suppose everyone is here now?” Apparently the movements Elsa had assumed to be work being done was actually them waiting for Helga’s signal. She heard Anna snicker beside her.

“Ahem, yes.” 

“Is the area still clear?” Elsa asked loudly. Too many people surrounded her to see for herself.

Once the hum of multiple ‘yes’ responses died down, Elsa handed Anna her bag and cane.

Hands moved in a tight circle and her magic, as strong as ever, danced around her fingertips. The image of what Elsa wished for the magic to do set, she pushed her hands out sending it barreling to the building’s middle spire, she floated one hand down and the other up, coaxing the ice into shape.

Ice swirled up each of the fifteen spires, the tallest one proudly displaying Elsa’s snowflake, teal roof tiles sparkled with flecks of ice, enough to glitter in the sunlight though not enough to be dangerous should any repairs be needed. From the top of the walls down until around ten feet above the ground, flat clear ice shaped as snowflakes glinted in the sun.  Now the white crocuses thickly covering the ground looked more like snow than living plants. 

Satisfied with how her added decorations looked, Elsa twirled her hands once more.

“The ice should only melt when you begin taking down the pavilion.”

Silence. 

More silence.

Too much silence.

Elsa began to worry.

Cheers suddenly shattered the silence.

Helga waited a full minute before shouting over the noise.

“Okay everyone, back to work!”

“Oh wow, that was amazing!”

“It’s been years since I’ve seen Queen Elsa use her powers.”

“I can’t wait to write to my husband back home about this.”

“Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

“That made this whole job worth it.”

“Thank you so much, Queen Elsa. This is perfect. Though I’m sorry, I have to get back. A display board fell just before you arrived.”

“Forgive us for interrupting your work.” Anna apologized and handed Elsa back her cane and her bag.

“No need to, Your Majesties. It is always a pleasure. Besides,” she glanced back to the building, “they’re smiling now instead of looking nervous. Thank you.” Helga bobbed a curtsy and hurried back.

“I see a bench. Would you like to sit down? It was kind of a long walk.”

“Yes, I’d like that.” Despite their leisurely pace over, it had been a long walk and their commitments as Arendelle’s ceremonial ambassadors were now complete; they had nowhere else to be and a real rest sounded sublime.

“Your bag felt heavier than from this morning.” Anna commented once they sat on the bench nearby. “Please tell me you snuck in your book. I can’t wait for my turn.”

Elsa had planned to give her sister the box back in their room but here would be nice too. She pulled the cool box out of her bag and turned to face Anna.

“Are those for me?” She looked hopeful, no doubt catching a whiff of chocolate.

“Of course.” Handing the box over, Elsa could not help smiling at Anna’s excitement when opening it. Some things never changed.

“Flowers.”

Indeed they were. Twelve rose shaped, red tinted, chocolates lay on a bed of shredded paper.

Taking a quick look around and still only seeing people from Arendelle, Elsa leaned in and kissed Anna’s soft lips. Fingers tenderly caressed the back of her neck.

Every year Elsa would, without fail, give Anna flowers on their anniversary. One year an orchid lovingly cared for in a greenhouse, another year jewelry straight away deemed too special to be worn everyday, even a book of collected poetry which lived on her bedside table for the past twenty-three years… each flower-themed gift cherished beyond measure.

They reluctantly pulled apart, remembering they were outside, and snuggled comfortably together. 

There would be time for more later.

[dyns33]

Dance with the vampires - Chapter 1

So, being a while but I’m doing a new series ! Yeah ! I don’t think it will be that long, three chapters I think, plus some addition, for now five. 

Inspired by the movie The fearless vampires killers, and the musical Dance with the vampires, here’s a Vampire Michael story ! 

Tag (I almost forgot, sorry) : @matildaofoz​ @just-someone-who-likes-to-write​ @guiltyfiend​ @qardasngan​

        (Y/N) hadn't really thought about it when she decided to lie to Professor Arden to become his assistant. She only knew one thing, she really wanted to become his student, she wanted to learn to read, write, count, speak several foreign languages, be cultivated. This was normally impossible for her, since she was poor, but more important because she was a woman. Women had little or no education. They had to be born into a family with a very open mind, and show exceptional talents, for them to receive this privilege. (Y/N) hadn't had that chance, so she decided to force it. Orphan, alone, it was Miss Cordelia, one of the nurses from the orphanage who had been kind enough to teach her how to speak well, how to behave. It was she who had shown her everything she wanted to know now, but was forbidden to her as a woman. It was she who had told her about Professor Arden, one of London's best thinkers, and (Y/N) knew then that she must have him as a teacher.

It hadn't been difficult, as she was a hard worker, she was even smart enough to learn quickly, and she was as quiet as she was polite. Terribly quiet and polite. Professor Arden had quickly noticed this when she came to his office to ask him to take her as an apprentice. Except that she had told him her name was Alfred. A boy. Maybe he hadn't really paid attention to her appearance, maybe his vision was bad, but he had believed it, and he had accepted. Fortunately, because (Y/N) had cried while cutting her hair for the first time. Afterwards, it was easier. She quickly got used to the pants, to having to hide her chest, her period, everything feminine. Her teacher taught her a lot, on many different subjects, but there was one that seemed to obsess him more than the others. Bats. (Y/N) didn't understand why and she didn't care. This subject of study allowed her to accompany Professor Arden on many trips outside London, and not only in England, because he wanted to study all the existing species.

She had been afraid several times of being discovered during their travels, but the good professor preferred to take his baths alone, to change alone, to sleep alone, and outside of his teaching, even if he asked her to behave well because (Y/N) was his disciple and so what she was doing affected his reputation, he left her alone. After several years in his service, he still had no suspicions. Despite his bad temper and cold demeanour, he seemed to have become attached to her, or rather to Alfred, not really considering him as a son, but seeing him all the same as an excellent disciple, and someone in whom he could trust. While they were soon to leave for a frozen country, he decided to confide in her the real goal of his research, his greatest secret.

           "Do you know my dear Alfred why bats fascinate me so much ?"

           "They are wonderful creatures, Master, which do extraordinary things, like fly at night. However, I don't know why you prefer them to other animals, which also have amazing abilities."

           "It's because I'm not really interested in bats Alfred. Not all of them. Only a few, very peculiar."

           "Master ?"

           "I… When I brought up this theory with some of my colleagues, they laughed, they thought I had gone crazy and I had to tell them I was kidding… But I'll tell you. You are a good disciple. So I know you will not laugh. "

           "Never Master!"

           "I don't yet have conclusive proof of their existence, that's what I'm looking for, but I'm sure of one thing, vampires do exist. We are looking for vampires Alfred."

(Y/N) didn't know what to say, but at least she didn't laugh. She didn't smile either, doing her best to remain perfectly stoic in front of the professor. Vampires. (Y/N) didn't believe in vampires at all. Like ghosts, ghouls or witches, they were legends. How could a scientist like Professor Arden believe this ? She wondered if he wasn't crazy, maybe his colleagues were right. But apart from that, he was still a good teacher, a smart man, and he allowed her to learn a lot of things, so if it could make him happy to chase after monsters that didn't exist, she didn't see why she would disapprove. He wasn't hurting anyone. So she continued to follow him all over Europe, until they arrived in a small village in the middle of the snow, where people spoke a language she did not understand. Fortunately, the owner of the inn where they were staying spoke English. His daughter too. Madison. A charming young woman, who seemed a bit mean at first, but hid a lot of fears and hurts behind her mask. (Y/N) realized this when he found her in the bathroom, crying. At first, she got angry, thinking that the professor's assistant was a voyeur and that he was going to laugh at her for her tears. But very quickly she noticed that (Y/N) didn't say anything, didn't try anything, even offering to bring her a towel to hide her nudity if she wanted to get out of the water.

           "... You are nice. I won't tell my dad you saw me... But don't tell him I was here."

           "Why ? You have the right to wash yourself. I should have knock."

           "It's your bathroom." she sneered. "You couldn't have known that I would be there. I am not allowed to wash myself. I am not allowed to go out. I was in a boarding school for young girls for five years, it was wonderful, but I had to come back, and now I feel like a prisoner here. My father is starting to look for a fiancé for me. I don't want to marry, let alone a stranger... You understand ? "

           "I understand. You could go."

           "Go ? Where ? How ? I have no money, I don't know anyone. I'm trapped here. It's easy for a man to say that !"

           "Sorry... sorry." said sincerely (Y/N), often forgetting that she was playing a role so that she could do whatever she wanted.

Madison felt she was sincere and forgave her. She even tried to kiss her, and seemed a little disappointed that 'Alfred' pushed her away. Disappointed, but not angry. She wasn't used to men resisting her, or not forcing her. It was nice, she felt safe and thanked him. For his part, Professor Arden was more interested in the odd decoration of the inn. It was true that there were a lot of crosses and garlic hanging on the walls and ceiling. But that was another culture, there could be thousands of logical explanations, before talking about vampires.

           "Is there a castle near here ?" he asked the owner, who told him no. The professor didn't believe a word of it.

(Y/N) was also a little surprised, as there were often castles in such places, but maybe the man meant that there was no more lord and that the building was abandoned. It was quite possible. Her thoughts were interrupted by a woman who abruptly entered the inn, and then everyone stopped talking, turning to her. Small, dark hair, evil-looking, she walked towards the owner without saying anything and handed him a paper. Visibly scared, he went to look for several objects, candles, wood, food, which he brought on the woman's sleigh as quickly as possible. At the same time, Madison was coming downstairs and when she saw her, the woman had an indecipherable smile. As she left, the professor patted (Y/N) on the shoulder.

           "Alfred, I want you to follow her."

           "What ?"

           "Don't argue ! You saw how they all looked at her. They're hiding something. Follow her, it's an order !"

Having never disobeyed her master, (Y/N) managed to discreetly follow the mysterious woman by hanging on to her sled. They travelled through the snowy hills for a long time, until they came to a castle. (Y/N) then preferred to turn around to warn the professor, who decided that they would go see what was happening there the next day.

           "But... Professor, they might not be vampires." she allowed herself to say. "Maybe a lord who treats his people badly, and that's why they fear him, but..."

           "You saw the garlic. The crosses. The fear. All the signs are there. Don't be a coward and pack our bags."

It bothered her a lot to bother people who hadn't asked for anything, but (Y/N) tried to reassure herself by thinking that the professor would quickly see that there was no vampire and they would leave without causing too much trouble. That was what she thought until Madison disappeared overnight. The young woman asked her nicely if she could use their bathroom, the only one in the inn and (Y/N) agreed. Then, as she finished packing Professor Arden's things into his suitcase, she heard strange noises, the water moving, as if Madison was struggling. She called her first, not wanting to see her naked again without her permission, then having no answer, she entered. There was no one left, the water was red and the roof window was open. It was the only other way out, but it was impossible to go through it without falling. Madison's father arrived then, he was looking for his daughter and seeing the scene, he screamed.

           "No ! Countess, no, please, not my little girl ! Give her back !"

These screams woke the professor, who didn't seem really moved by Madison's kidnapping, seeing only other evidence.

           "The Countess, eh ? She just brought her prey. Quick Alfred, we have to leave now if we want to surprise her !"

           "And save Madison !"

           "What ? Ah, yes, of course, if you want."

Before leaving, (Y/N) promised the owner that he would do everything to bring his daughter back alive, while Professor Arden only spoke of the wonderful discoveries they were to make. In the cold and at night, it was difficult to get to the castle, but it gave them an excellent excuse to strike, pretending to be lost and seeking refuge. It was the woman in black who opened the door, visibly annoyed to see them, but she let them enter all the same, to bring them into a huge living room, where another woman, tall, blonde, sublime, was standing by the fire. She didn't seem surprised.

           "It is quite common for foreigners to get lost in our region. I will be delighted to welcome you. But I forget the conveniences. I am the Countess."

           "Nice to meet you, Countess." the professor said, leaning slightly. "I'm the Professor Arden, and this is my assistant, Alfred."

           "Professor Arthur Arden ? From London ?"

           "Yes your grace. Have you... heard of me ?"

           "Indeed, I really like your writings. Particularly those dealing with bats. Remarkable. I believe I have a copy in my library, if you had the kindness to dedicate it to me."

           "It will be an honour Madam. I am..."

The professor jumped when he heard the door open, he didn't expect anyone else to be there, since the woman in black was still in the room, waiting to know what to do with them. (Y/N) thought for a moment that Madison was going to appear, but it was a young man. Unlike the Countess, he seemed surprised to see strangers. It wasn't good, she berated herself afterwards, for that, but for a few moments (Y/N) couldn't help but stare at him. She had never seen a man so handsome, with his blond curls which surrounded his angelic face, his shining blue eyes which looked at the Countess with curiosity, then the woman in black, the professor, and finally her. He smiled when their eyes met.

           "This is my son, Michael." announced the Countess.

Michael walked over to greet the professor quickly, before taking (Y/N)'s hand, which he kept while welcoming her, his smile never leaving his face.

           "It is truly a pleasure to meet you." he purred, his fingers brushing her palm. "I hope we will become dear friends."

           "That would be wonderful." his mother said. "But it's late. You will discuss later. You are my guests, you can stay here as long as you want. Miss Mead will show you your rooms."

The woman in black, Miss Mead, sighed but obeyed, picking up their bags and bringing them to rooms, even though (Y/N) offered to help. This seemed to soften Michael, who followed them, choosing which rooms they would have. The professor entered his, and as she was about to follow him, Michael stopped her, still smiling, to lead her to the next door.

           "Won't we sleep together ?" worried (Y/N). "I mean, the professor might need me, I'm his assistant."

           "The rooms are interconnecting, mon chéri. I thought you would appreciate some privacy. This is the best room after mine and my mother's."

           "Oh. Thank you, sir. But maybe then it would be better if the professor had..."

           "No, no, Liebe. This is your room, I insist. Get some rest. And... please, call me Michael."

           "But, it will be daylight soon." noted (Y/N), a little embarrassed.

           "Indeed. My mother and I are night owls, and you've been travelling in the snow for hours with your professor. We'll see each other tomorrow night. I'm going to ask Miss Mead to light a fire in your fireplace. Unless... maybe I can help you warm up differently ?"

           "A fire is perfect, thank you sir Michael."

           "Sir Michael... So polite... Hm, but I like that. Sir Michael, yes. It's... scorching. Sleep well mon chéri."

She wasn't expecting it, it wasn't a normal behaviour, but Michael took her hand to kiss it, like a man would do with a woman lover, before leaving. As she closed the door, she didn't think for a second of vampires, although Professor Arden came in her room to do a monologue on what he thought he knew about the Countess and her son, not noticing at all that his assistant seemed troubled, touching her hand. No, (Y/N) was just wondering, totally frightened, if Michael had understood that she was a woman, even though she couldn't see how.

[echo-three-one]

A Forgotten Memory

An Alex x OC fic

Chapter 7 babyyyy!

Link to chapter 1 along with the summary here

Reviews appreciated as I'm only human and I would like to improve as a writer

I'm running out of gifs (check out the gifmakers tho they're credited down there)

VII - Alex

"Echo Three-One to Actual. We've infilnitrated the location. But it looked like what we've speculated. It's just a cargo warehouse." Alex lowered his gun and hid it on his holster. They were disguised as local policemen as they're breaching a very public area. Echo Three-One frowned at the sight, he had high hopes that Samantha would be here, and he could rescue her and see her again.

He started to regret that he tolerated her actions last night. In his defense, she was scared and needed his presence. He even loathed himself for sleeping that night. How could he let her escape?!

Hey Alex. Just letting you know that I'm home safe. Maxine's here but she forgot about a whole day worth of memories. Maybe she just went out on a bar with her other friends. Can't say I'm not suspicious about it, but I'll be careful. You can swing by and help me discover what's going on with her if you want.

He remembered every word of her text. What's worse is that it actually didn't send, he found it on her apartment floor when he woke up and came looking for her. He misjudged her by thinking she wouldn't come back to her apartment, because her abductors might still be around. But then again, how would he know what's going on in her mind? She won't even share her life details at him. She just filled her with lies on top of more lies, but it was all okay for him, he respected her that she's good secrets she had to keep. He swore he shouldn't get attached to her but looking at himself now, It looked like he also failed that too.

He silently paced around and examined the whole warehouse. He trusted that the intel is correct and they're not barking at the wrong tree.

"This is Echo Three-One advising all units to locate the premises for other possible entry points." he radioed over the comms sending his team to scatter across the vicinity.

It was not long until one of the agents discovered a secret stairway disguised as a refrigerator door.

"Good job! What made you think about opening the damn fridge?" his friend congratulated with a tap on his shoulder.

"I dunno man, I felt hungry. But maybe it's my spy instinct telling me to open it." He humbly replied, Alex chuckled at the conversation before they began heading down the secret tunnel.

"Clear!" Each unit cleared the hallway full of different rooms on each side. It felt like they quickly abandoned the station, leaving unimportant heavy items that were left on the room. They cleared each door until all that's left is one double door at the far end of the hall.

Alex raised his heartbeat sensor as one pulasting dot bleeped from behind. His heartbeat sped as he believed it to be Samantha on the other side of the door. They carefully breached the room revealing a heavily sedated Samantha, bound on a dentist chair. She was unconscious but tears were falling from her eyes. Alex ordered the others to continue to the hallway while the other team escorts the HVI to extraction.

His hands trembled as he slowly lifter her up and carried her. He couldn't hide his concern toward her as his voice sounded afraid.

"GET A MEDIC. ASAP!" he roared as they make their way back to the entrance, glancing at her the moment her tears touched his arms.

"You're going to be okay..." he whispered.

***

"Yep this definitely reeks CIA." an old man with greying hair walked in front of Alex, dropping Samantha's lab results on the table as it makes it's way to Alex. His expression was worried as he looks intently at Alex.

"So, you think we're against each other now?" Alex raised his eyebrow at his supervisor. Supressing a smirk as he noticed that he cut his hair almost bald.

"Not necessarily... But this kind of drug is one of the abandoned projects from decades ago. The only existing sample of this is locked behind secure bunkers deep within the CIA." he crossed his arms and scratched his beard.

"Whoever we're dealing with here, has strong ties within CIA." He warned as Alex nodded in agreement.

"So, what's our plan?" Alex stood up, looking interested to hunt for the mole. His supervisor smirked and shook his head.

"This isn't your fight, kid. Your job is to ensure our HVI is safe. We still don't know who she is, even our facial scans and fingerprint recognition can't seem to pinpoint her. She's foreign but she doesn't look like one. If she cooperates with you, then we'll get a better lead at the case at hand." he pats Alex's shoulder.

"I trust you kept your professionalism when it comes to her, right?" Alex nodded as his eyes locked against his, he's testing if he's lying. Luckily Alex knows what cues he must avoid.

"Yes, Sir." he nodded, the look in his eyes told him that he passed. If he could conceal such lie, what else can the other people within the CIA conceal?

He'll leave the mole to them while he focused on his HVI, both professional and personal.

"Supply drop every Sunday right here." The older man targeted the area with a laser pen. Alex mentally studied the map. He had no idea what country it will be but a wide aerial viee is all he had to know. A dense forest with rivers stretching from each side. The house itself is like an abandoned log cabin on the outside but it's reinforced with bulletproof walls and other notable security features.

"Guess we're both going hunting in our own way as well." Alex remarked as his Commanding Officer chuckled.

"Hunting for information, that is.." Of course he wouldn't get his joke.

"We'll extract you 0300 hours tomorrow, whether she's unconscious or not. Good luck, Alex."

"Thanks, Jack." they both shook their hands as the meeting dismissed. While waiting for extraction, Alex decided it'd be best to stay by her side. In case her dream state would reveal vital information.

***

Alex stood beside her bed as the extraction team set up her dextrose. It kept her from starving all while she's unconscious to ingest something. The doctors instructed Alex how to refill her bags as she'd been asleep for almost a day.

"What if she wants to pee?" Alex asked the doctor, clearly embarrassed about his query.

"The drug effects that's making her unconscious is almost over. She'll be getting up in about three hours or so... So you don't have to worry about that, Alex."

"Uh.. thanks Doc. Have a safe trip home."

"Contact us if she feels uneasy or weird."

"Will do."

And with that, the medical team made their way out of the safehouse, leaving Alex and Samantha all alone in the middle of nowhere.

[lysissisyl]

Here’s my story for the event @raines-stories-n-things organized. Thank you for your hard work.

I don’t know if you knew, but you assigned me a prompt for my fiancée, making it all even more special for us. So... to @patricia-von-arundel , with all my love. 💜

Trick or kiss?

Byleth has always loved Halloween. She could see the kids wearing crazy costumes and going out trick-or-treating in tv shows, all the horror houses, with their mechanical creatures moving and making creepy sounds (she heard people calling them “animatronics”). Even kids’ cartoons had special episodes airing on that day.

When she was a child, it was considered something foreign, an American tradition that nobody followed or cared about in her country, but things had started to change with time. Now kids wore costumes and went out asking for sweets. They knocked at their neighbors’ doors asking “Dolcetto o scherzetto?” Their parents had to hang messages to tell people to get ready, so they had something to give them, and they usually didn’t leave the building or the street they lived in, but it was something. They received normal sweets, nothing crazy, nothing made for the occasion. People didn’t hang up decorations, not many at least. The neighbors had carved pumpkin and put it out of their door once. You could see some funny things in shops, but not much, nothing compared to Christmas, for example (even if even Christmas decorations weren’t as fancy as the American ones). She knew there were Halloween Parties, but chaotic discos weren’t her cup of tea. She tried wearing a simple costume and walking around, she took some pictures once, but people looked at her like she was strange. (To be honest, they often did and it didn’t bother her, but the atmosphere wasn’t exactly thrilling.)

She could notice the difference the moment she arrived at the airport. The shops there were full, literally full of anything Halloween related. They even had pets’ costumes! There were decals and lights and things she didn’t know how to call on display. Some kids already had costumes, even if it wasn’t the 31st yet.

As far as she loved it all though, she never stopped to buy or look at anything for more than a second; she had other things on her mind now. One thing in particular: Edelgard.

Edelgard was waiting (in)patiently. She had arrived at the airport an hour and a half in advance and had been pacing since. After reading the flight landed, she started checking the time and her phone basically every 5 seconds. She only stopped the moment she saw Byleth walking towards her. They both froze for a few seconds before running into each other’s arms. It had been too long. It was always too long. Edelgard was sure she was going to cry any moment, but she categorically refused to cry in public. She needed to keep herself busy and she needed to bring Byleth home. Now.

Whatever was outside the airport doors, Byleth didn’t notice. She could blame the long flight (and she was actually very tired and dazed), but the truth was that all her brain could process for a while was the warmth of Edelgard’s hand in hers.

“...or you prefer going straight home?”

“What?”

The look on her face must have been 50% smitten adoration and 50% pure confusion, because Edelgard blushed and laughed. “I was asking if you want to go and pick up some food or you prefer going straight home and let me make something for you there.” She paused and smiled slightly. “Perhaps I should just bring you too bed though, since you truly look exhausted.”

Was that concern or a timid attempt to tease? Maybe both. And she sure wasn’t too tired to fight back. “Don’t worry about that. Resting my head on your shoulder while you drive will sure make miracles for my awareness level.”

Edelgard almost let her car keys fall and clumsily opened the trunk. “Give me your luggage, so we can go wherever you want.” The imperative tone told Byleth she hit home. Score! She handed her the big case with a grin.

After they both got in the car Edelgard started the engine and they left the parking lot in silence. Most people would have considered it awkward, but it wasn’t. It was that kind of silence that two people can share when they’re truly close and are just feeling each other’s presence. It was a very intimate silence.

They both liked listening to music in the car and they often did, but not now: this short trip was just for them, to enjoy being together after such a long time, alone.

Edelgard broke the silence first. “From a more practical side...”, she stopped, realizing her voice was going to betray her thoughts again. There was no time to think about the softness of Byleth’s body against hers. Focus, Edelgard! She cleared her voice. “Do you want to stop somewhere for food or not?”

Too harsh. But Byleth smiled. She could read her far too well. “I vote for sushi. Sushi is always good for a date.”

Edelgard silently thanked the darkness for hiding her blush. They had been together for month, but the word “date” still had such a strong effect on her! If felt like she was suddenly so light she could fly and the only thing preventing her from getting lost in the vast sky was Byleth. Byleth being there meant she could fly safely.

Drive safely. She should focus on the road and drive safely. No flying. Why was she even thinking about flying? “Sushi sounds good.” The answer came late enough for Byleth to giggle.

Sushi looked good too. That was Byleth’s first thought in the restaurant. She saw a waiter passing by with some and she suddenly realized how hungry she truly was.

When Edelgard showed her the menu, her eyes literally lightened up. It wasn’t that she had never had sushi, she had it often, but sharing it with Edelgard was different. It was special. She rarely smiled, but even just discussing what to order made her smile. Edelgard had that strange effect on her. She had had it from the start.

Byleth had lived almost all her life barely feeling. She acknowledged most emotions, but...they weren’t truly there. It was like living behind a glass. It was normal to her, but she could still see it. When she met Edelgard though, that glass began to crack and when they got together...it shattered. It felt truly like she came with a giant axe and just smashed it. Gone. In instants. She saved her from a cold she wasn’t even fully aware off. And now...now she was smiling at sushi and she felt like laughing.

The drive home was peaceful. They kept talking about places to visit and things to do. They had discussed them many times, most at least, but it was different now: the time had come. So they kept talking and planning, just because it felt good to. At least, they kept talking until Byleth stopped replying.

Now Edelgard was sitting in the car, parked in her usual spot, uncertain about what to do. Byleth was resting her head on her shoulder, like she had playfully mentioned before, one of her hands was holding onto her shirt. She was sound asleep. Edelgard didn’t dare moving. She felt like when a kitten fell asleep on her lap. Part of her just wanted to stay there and watch her sleep. She could admire her beautiful face, put her hand on hers, kiss her forehead if she turned carefully enough. Part of her though desperately wanted to bring her home, carry her to bed, wrap her arms around her and kiss her, being it just a kiss goodnight or something more. She just wanted to kiss her beaut-

The rational part of her cut that thought there, reminding her they needed to get out of the car, carry the luggage inside, have dinner. Only then it would have been time to go to bed. Together... Feeling her so close against her...and-

Focus! Luggage, then dinner.

She lifted her left hand, then stopped a few centimeters from Byleth’s head. Hesitation. They had been together for month, but she still hesitated. Her thoughts went easily out of control, she often found herself daydreaming until she could almost feel her skin, but her body still stopped, like it wondered if she was truly allowed. She internally laughed at herself, letting her fingers into Byleth’s hair. Messy and soft. She loved it. She stroked them gently, until she felt her girlfriend humming and her hand tightening its grip on her shirt. Cute.

“El?” Byleth’s voice sounded so sleepy... Unusual for someone who always said she completely woke up in seconds. Edelgard’s hand stopped when she found herself unreasonably flustered again. “Sushi is good fresh. We better go.” Too harsh. Again. She sighed, getting out of the car. “I’ll take your luggage.”

Byleth didn’t seem to object, so she did, holding the handle so tight her knuckles turned white. She walked straight to the front door, fully focused on one goal at a time. Keys, keyhole, unlock. She could hear Byleth’s footsteps behind her, stopping when she turned around to close the door. She heard the lock, then another step, Byleth’s hand on her shoulder. She froze.

“El?”

She left the case fall and turned around without thinking, pulling her close and holding her in the tightest hug she had ever experienced. She was there, home with her, she was real.

She was real.

She felt Byleth slowly hugging her back. She held her breath. Neither of them was used to hugs. Byleth was the only person Edelgard felt comfortable hugging and she had no doubt the same went for her.

•~•~•~

For the first time in a while, Byleth didn’t jump on her feet as soon as she woke up. The first thing she was aware of was the warmth of Edelgard’s body against hers. She felt her snuggling closer when she gently stroke her hair, still half asleep. She looked so adorable! She probably would have grumbled at the word, but she was. The thought made Byleth laugh.

Edelgard looked up, suddenly embarrassed, her hands trying to let go of her shirt and failing. She decided to hide her face against her chest instead. “What are you laughing at?”

Tempting, damn tempting… “You’re cute.”

She couldn’t see Edelgard’s face, but she had no doubt it was bright red.

“I am not.” She was clearly fighting herself when she got up. “We should have breakfast. We have an interesting day waiting for us.”

She headed to the kitchen without waiting for an answer, probably to hide the enthusiastic side that was breaking her sulking mask. Cute.

For the first time in a while, Edelgard had had no nightmare.

It wasn’t the first time. Having Byleth there always made miracles for her sleep. Having Byleth in general was enough for an improvement, but…having her there was like a spell. She could let go, she felt safe, like her ghosts couldn’t touch her, like her past couldn’t hurt her anymore. Her demons were tamed.

She smiled, the smile growing wider when she saw Byleth approaching. She knew she would have followed her right after, but actually seeing her there still made her emotional.

She took a pan and a few ingredients and realized she was humming a tune only halfway through the preparations. She hushed fretfully, pouring the mix in. Another giggle, then arms wrapping around her from behind, Byleth’s breath on her neck.

She shivered. “The waffles are going to get burnt.”

“Would it be a big deal?”

“I bought a pumpkin-shaped waffle-plate just to make you Halloween waffles. I would be very pissed.” She was such a bad liar. Her voice betrayed her. She laughed at herself.

Another giggle. “You’re lucky I’m hungry in the morning.” She left a kiss on her neck before taking a step back. “But you still owe me cuddles after leaving like that."

That playful attitude was new too. Byleth always appeared so distant around people… Being allowed to see this side of her was a privilege (even if the little shit loved teasing her). “You shouldn’t have called me cute.”

“But you are.”

Edelgard glared at her. “Do you still want your waffles?”

“I’m not saying another word.” Her grin talked for her though.

The waffles smelled delicious and tasted even better. Edelgard had added fruit on some, poured strange creepy-colored glazes on others. The red one looked like blood, but tasted like cherry. She couldn’t identify the purple and green ones, but food colors were probably involved. She sipped from her cup one last time, inhaling the characteristic smell of Edelgard’s favorite Bergamot tea. She usually brewed some to share when they were together, but today Edelgard had other projects. She had served her some in a black, spooky cup, with a spider-shaped cookie on the side. Byleth sure wasn’t the only one loving Halloween.

“You mentioned projects for today.”

“ Yes. We are going out early. We have some shopping to do.”

She had such a happy look on her face, like a child who was going to show their parents the phantasmagoric new dinosaur toy they just won in a game at the fair. Byleth couldn’t help it. “Cute.”

Edelgard wasn’t actually a big fan of shopping, but this was different: this was Halloween shopping!

She had spent a long time planning it all, thinking about all the things they had discussed, adding more... This was Byleth’s first time truly celebrating Halloween and she wanted to make it perfect for her.

Their first stop was the reason she wanted to go out early. Costume shops usually got really crowded later those days. They spent more than an hour trying the silliest things on, showing each other, laughing together. They ended up dressing as a king and his knight. Those costumes won their hearts the moment Byleth kneeled before her and Edelgard started stuttering something about giving the wrong impression and making her thoughts strange. Edelgard also added an axe to her costume, stating a true king should fight side by side with his soldiers. Brave and strong even when playing around... Was it silly to feel proud? Byleth shook her head with a smile. Did it matter? She was.

The second place was a huge, HUGE store, full of all kinds of things, from forniture to food. There was an entire isle dedicated to Halloween decorations. Edelgard only had a few, but she was determined to make her house spooky this year. The first thing Byleth took was a pumpkin-shaped string lights.

“We could use them for the Christmas tree too.”

“ Halloween stuff on the Christmas tree? Not very traditional.” Edelgard smiled. “ I like it.”

“We could keep some other decorations out too, put a Christmas hat on the skeleton’s head.”

“We don’t have a skeleton.”

Byleth shrugged. “Yet.”

Almost a hour later they had skeletons (humanoids, animals and dragons), three different kinds of spiderwebs, bloody handprints stencils for the doors, a bloodstained mat for the bathtub and many other things. They went back to the car with a heavy cart and a lighter wallet.

The third stop was at the supermarket.

“Are we getting something for lunch?” Byleth was looking at everything with genuine curiosity. The brands and packagings were all very different from the ones she knew. It was something most people would have ignored, but she found it fascinating. She completely forgot about it the moment they reached the produce aisle though. “Pumpkins!” Her eyes were sparkling. “REAL pumpkins!”

They had been talking about carving pumpkins for months. To Byleth, that had never had a chance, it felt like such a nice family thing! She had always wanted to try, but her father wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who likes decorating and such. Everything he did was always for a reason, always had a purpose. The idea of carving pumpkins, attempt strange shapes and be silly together was extremely precious to her and...thrilling.

Edelgard loved seeing her like that, especially since Byleth herself had told her she had never felt like that before meeting her.

She looked at all her smiles and laughs like they were the rarest marvels she had ever admired. Her emotions were a gift to them both.

Byleth was still grinning when they reached the baking products and then moved to other isles. They wanted to make something nice and creepy together, like the funny Halloween party recipes you can find on YouTube. Byleth’s cooking skills didn’t get past a hamburger and noodles, so the ingredients and recipes’ choice was on Edelgard. She had considered many options and was determined to try a few. She wanted to impress her.

Byleth got distracted again by all the sweets and weird...”things” in the next section. Kids sure could get very colorful, strange stuff in their baskets there! There were candies in all shapes, colors and flavors. There were cookies that looked like smiling spiders and happy pumpkins, purple witch hats, green potions, black cats.

Byleth was amazed by how many brands produced something special just for Halloween. In her country she could find chocolate eggs for Easter, panettone and pandoro for Christmas, butnever so many crazy, different themed treats. It was so hard to choose! Luckily they could try many, since they were going to give most to the neighborhood kids on the 31st. At least that’s what she told herself, while Edelgard’s face grew more and more concerned after every trip from the shelves to their cart.

Bringing everything to the car at once was a challenge, but they did it, impressing a few passerbies. Byleth had never been so happy Edelgard had a SUV.

Lunch. Edelgard had projects for lunch too. Something fast, because it was already lunchtime, but fitting. You could only get pumpkin ice cream around Halloween and Byleth had to try it.

Dinner was a whole different thing. Edelgard had made sure they had all they needed to try some funny recipes. They made pumpkin-shaped pumpkin bread. It was a must, one of the first Halloween foods Edelgard had mentioned and one she liked a lot.

The second idea they decided to try was far less traditional and definitely unusual: Frankenstein sushi. They put rice, water and green food coloring in and, after around 30 minutes, they boiled it, then let it cool down a bit. They pressed it into squares around salmon and avocado, topping them with nori sheets as hair. They arranged carrots matchsticks on the sides to look like bolts. More nori, some black rice and truffle sauce made the trick to draw the faces. They had fun changing the expressions and shapes. Those little monsters looked so silly! When they were done, they put them in the fridge to keep them cold.

They decided to make spooky donuts too, as a treat. They had bought a lot of decorations just for those. Edelgard knew Byleth loved them and there were some crazy options there that weren’t available in her country. Once ready, they looked adorably creepy and colorful. Some were covered in orange glaze, with a chocolate spiderweb. Some even had spiders on them, made with a dough ball covered in dark chocolate, chocolate sticks stuck in it to make the legs and big round sugar eyes. Others were covered in white glaze, with red jelly forming veins, colorful candies as the iris and a drop of chocolate as the pupil. Some weren’t even shaped like donuts. Squared ones with green glaze and chocolate provided another version of Frankenstein’s head; pumpkin-shaped ones, with dark chocolate as the carving were a must. Too many to count. Byleth was staring at them with sparkling eyes.

“Do you want one?” Edelgard couldn’t help giggling. “Or dinner first?”

“We could have a reverse dinner.”

“A reverse dinner?”

”We start from the dessert.”

The weirdness of it made Edelgard smile. It was very Byleth. “You want one.” She couldn’t help laughing again and her girlfriend with her. Byleth took an azure one with small sugar pumpkins and bats on it, split it in halves. “I want to share one.”

“Sharing sounds perfect.” Sharing felt warm.

The evening was pleasantly cool, a bit foggy. Edelgard came out of the kitchen with two big knives in her hands and her best attempt at a creepy look on her face. To Byleth she actually looked cute, but the jolt of excitement made her completely forget about teasing. “Pumpkin carving!”

Edelgard handed her one of the knives and she admired the blade. For a moment that simple gesture betrayed her fighting training. She was more comfortable with that weapon than any common person was supposed to be.

A moment.

A moment later she was smiling and choosing a pumpkin from the bags. She studied it with far less ease. “I don’t know where to start.”

Edelgard moved her chair closer, her pumpkin next to Byleth’s on the table. “Honestly, I’m not that good at it, but I know the basics” She explained her and showed her what to do step by step. “First you cut off the crown.” She grabbed two large serving spoons and offered one to Byleth. “You scoop out the seeds and fibers, then the flesh. We can make something with those tomorrow, maybe roast the flesh and toast the seeds.” She drew the eyes, nose and mouth with a marker, then waited for Byleth to do the same. “Careful when you cut it off. You’ll need some strength. Keep your hands far enough from the blade.”

Byleth, the expert fighter, the blades collector, nodded. She loved Edelgard’s caring protectiveness.

Despite her words, Edelgard made a very good job with her pumpkin. Byleth was kinda proud of hers, especially as a first attempt. It was winking.

Once they were done carving, they inserted the candles and put the crown back in place. The cinnamon candles mixed wonderfully with the pumpkins’ natural flavor. They smelled delicious!

They stayed silent for little while, admiring the lights and shadows dancing inside their silly creations, sharing the intimacy. When Edelgard leant her head on her shoulder, Byleth started to gently stroke her hair; their jointed hands were resting on her lap. She could feel her body gradually relaxing, her breaths getting slower and deeper. There was no more tension in her when she was in her arms. She tenderly moved a strand of white hair from her face.

A perfect moment, followed by many others.

For their second almost-halloween night they decided to stick to the tradition. Byleth had never been as big of a horror movies expert as Edelgard was, so there were many she hadn’t seen yet. They both had looked forward watching some together and Byleth knew Edelgard also saw them as a very good excuse for cuddles. She gladly curled up in her arms, as close to her as she could, wrapped in her warmth. That was a night to stay up late, shiver together, then sleep cuddled close.

•~•~•~•

That was the day: Halloween.

It was around noon when she woke up, but it still felt too soon to leave the bed. Edelgard wanted to keep feeling Byleth on her, her hands holding her shirt, her breath on her skin…

She was higher than she was, a trained fighter and a badass, but she still felt such a strong protective instinct towards her…

She wanted to keep her warm.

She wanted to keep her safe.

She wanted to keep her.

Judging by the way she was clinging to her, Byleth agreed.

It took them one more hour of cuddles to finally decide to get up and make some tea. Byleth was extremely smug about eating the donuts they made with it; it was so evident Edelgard couldn’t help a giggle. There were so many things that were quite usual to her and so new to Byleth! And it wasn’t just about Halloween. It wasn’t only about the cultural differences either (some were evident, but there was more). It was like many normal things, family things especially, were completely unknown to her. Edelgard obviously knew why. As for her…she had had no idea how much she had missed those things until Byleth.

They decided to shower and get dressed right after breakfast. They wanted to go out before it got dark and crowded. Edelgard had had the idea the day before. What better place for a King and his knight to spend some time together than solitary woods? There was a trail near her home that they could walk together and she knew places to stop and rest where no one would have bothered them.

Wearing the costumes home was definitely easier than doing that at the store. Byleth wrapped the long, red cloak around Edelgard’s shoulders with a a grin and an admired sound. “It suits you, my Emperor.” Edelgard fumbled helping Byleth with her armor. “It’s a king costume...don’t make it bigger than it is. It’s not... I’m not...”

A giggle.

The Emperor sighed. “I don’t seem to remember many knights being so bold with their lords.”

“Bold?” Something strange in her voice.

“Yes, bol-” Byleth’s lips on hers ended any complaint.

“Is this bold enough?”

“I...advise you to stop if you still plan to go out.”

Her face was so red Byleth almost giggled again, but the way Edelgard’s eyes were staring intently at her made her hold her breath instead. “I plan to come back soon. Or...” a long pause. “...how remote are those woods?”

The pauldron fell from Edelgard’s hands with a loud thud.

Most people go to parties on Halloween night, but neither of them was particularly fond of crowded places and loud music. The only thing they wanted was for that day to be theirs.

They wanted to read horror stories together, maybe try some creepy game. They wanted to hide spooky surprises for each other in the house or share some curiosities cuddled close on the couch.

Byleth didn’t know much about the origin of the festivity. She had heard of kids going out dressed as spirits so the real ones wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart and kidnap them, of people making offerings to such spirits to keep them away from their homes, to keep them friendly. She knew there were many legends, both local and well known in all the States, like Jack-O’-Lantern playing his tricks on the Devil and ending up a wondering soul.

Her knowledge though didn’t go past that. Edelgard was the expert and, luckily for Byleth, more than willing to share her knowledge.

“How do you know so many things?”

“Research, I suppose. You know I like creepy facts, folklore and peculiar traditions. Halloween is a mix of that all.”

“I’m impressed.”

“By my ramblings?”

“That’s not the word I would have chosen...”

An awkward laugh. “Maybe I wanted to impress you... Just a little bit.”

Byleth poked her. “Maybe.”

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

Part 5

Summary: Soulmates have different ways of being connected to one another. Sometimes it’s through being able to write on their arms and having it show up on their soulmates. For others it was having their first words spoken to one another permanently tattooed into their skin. You had a unique connection with yours, one that you really hadn’t ever heard of happening before. Whatever song was stuck in your soulmate’s head was also stuck in yours and the same was for them. When Yoongi realizes one of his songs is playing on repeat in your head, he immediately takes to writing songs to communicate with you in hopes it will finally bring you two together.

Genre: Fluff. Just pure tooth rotting, sweet fluff.

Whew this was a long one. 4.5k words

Part 1     Part 2      Part 3     Part 4     Part 6

As you stepped off the plane you couldn’t believe it. You were finally in Seoul, the same city as your soul mate. That alone felt indescribable. It was a happiness you had never known. The past day was hectic. Trying to book last minute plane tickets and a hotel room. You didn’t even know how long you were going to be staying here depending on how well things went with Yoongi. You booked your hotel for a week just to be safe, knowing you could cancel if you absolutely had to. You considered coming alone, but your friend was very insistent that they go with you. You were traveling to a foreign country to meet your soulmate. Your friend wouldn’t miss this for the world, but also wanted to be there as a support and help in any way they could.

You arrived to the hotel and unpacked your belongings and immediately flopped down onto the bed.

“Jet lag sucks.”

“Indeed it does. I feel like I could sleep for the next 10 years.” Within moments your friend was snoring and clutching the pillow tightly. You giggled quietly to yourself and pulled your phone out to see if Yoongi had posted anything else. There were no new songs, but there was a new post from him. It was a selfie of him and oh gosh he looked so adorable it made your heart flutter. The caption underneath the photo just said “I can’t wait to see you.”

A bunch of army had commented underneath that they couldn’t wait to see him too. Their tour was starting in a little over a month. You knew what the real meaning was behind the photo. And you quickly typed a reply.

“I can’t wait to see you too. It’s such a short time away.”

You set your phone down and were about to try and sleep for a little bit when a notification went off. ‘I’m not Min Yoongi’ had sent you another reply.

Isn’t it late where you are at now? What are you still doing awake?

You glance at the clock and see that it is only 8:00 pm. You have a long way to go until morning.

Actually I am in Seoul right now. So it’s only 8:00 in the evening. Besides, how do you know where I live? You stalking me?

Ah no! no! You just um… always seemed to reply early in the morning here. So I figured it was late wherever you were.

Yoongi face palms. Smooth save, Min.

Ah okay. Makes sense I guess.

So what are you doing in Seoul?

Hopefully meeting my soulmate.

Oh! That’s exciting! I hope everything goes well for you two.

Me too. I hope everything goes the way I am thinking it will but.. we’ll see.

Well if you were traveling all day aren’t you tired? Shouldn’t you be in bed?

Yes I should be but I can’t sleep. I’m too anxious.

I’m sure your soulmate feels the same. But they would want you to get your rest and take care of yourself.

You’re right. I’ll try my best.

What usually helps you sleep?

Um.. well this might sound silly but I fall asleep easily to Yoongi’s songs and videos of him just talking? His voice is so soothing.

Huh.. I see. You like his voice then?

Yes. Very much. It almost feels like.. coming home after a long trip. Just that comfort of knowing you are home.

Yoongi blushes at this and the sweet compliments.

Maybe he’ll surprise you and do a vlive or something.

Hah, I can only wish.

After that you don’t get a reply. You do however, get a notification on your phone that Yoongi is doing a Vlive. You laugh to yourself as you realize that there is no way that account wasn’t him at this point. You pull out your phone.

You know for someone who isn’t Min Yoongi you sure called that one right.

It’s just a voice live, you hear his phone go off and then hear him quietly chuckling into the mic. You don’t receive a reply but don’t anticipate you will at this point. Yoongi says something in Korean to start that you don’t quite catch what he says, but then he repeats himself in English.

“I heard from some of you that you like my voice and it’s calming to you. Since it’s nearing the end of the night I figured this would be a good way for you all to relax and unwind after a long day.” You smile to yourself and put your headphones in, quickly drifting off to sleep. You wake up a few hours later. When you glance at the clock you see it’s after midnight. You groan and sit up, looking over to the other bed to see your friend completely passed out still. You’ve always envied how deeply they seem to sleep.

As you sit there, the anxiety begins to come back. How nervous you are is finally starting to settle in. What if he doesn’t like you? What if you don’t get along? What if he was hoping his soulmate was someone famous? Are you good enough for him? Your leg starts shaking back and forth before you can’t sit still any longer. You crawl out of bed and slip your shoes on, quietly heading out the door as you don’t want to wake up your friend. You walk outside into the fresh air and find that it is helping you calm down to be able to just walk.

You don’t know where you are heading, but you have your phone with you and can easily find your way back to the hotel with the GPS. You put your headphones back in and just walk. You are listening to the playlist you had made of the few songs Yoongi had wrote for you and continue wandering and humming along. After you listen to all of the songs at least once you come across a bench with a man sitting on it. You don’t pay him any attention and walk on by, lost in your own world. You don’t make it very far before you feel a gentle tug on the bottom of your shirt. You turn around and see the man looking up at you. His bottom half of his face is covered and he’s wearing a beanie and heavy coat. Clearly he doesn’t want to be seen. You panic for a second thinking maybe he was going to mug you before he says something to you.

“What?”

“Ah, foreigner?” You nod.

“I said it’s dangerous to be outside alone this late.” He repeats in English. Your heart nearly drops to your stomach. You know that voice. You’d recognize it anywhere.

“Yoongi?” His eyes widen at that and now he seems to be the one panicked.

“Shit.. Are you a fan? Please don’t tell anyone you saw me and don’t freak out and scream. I go out late to avoid people for a reason-”

“Yoongi stop. It’s me!”

“Am I supposed to know you? Please don’t tell you’re a sasaeng. Wow this is just my luck.”

“It’s y/n!” Yoongi freezes and drops his hand to his side and he looks a little angry if the way he furrows his brows at you is any indication.

“Funny joke. Haha okay what do you want? An autograph?”

“No I’m serious Yoongi it’s me! We’ve been talking on Twitter back and forth! Ah wait no I’m sorry that wasn’t Min Yoongi I forgot.” You say with a smirk on your face.

“I… There’s no way. Let me see your phone.” You pull it out and unlock it, then hand it over to him. He opens up your Twitter and goes to your notifications and sure enough, there’s your conversations. “Oh my god.. Y/n it’s really you.” He hands your phone back and just stares at you in shock.

“Um.. So… what-“

“No, no! Absolutely not! I did not spend all night writing that song about us meeting for the first time for you to just bump into me on the street. I refuse.”

“Yoongi! You can’t fight fate-“

“Like hell I can’t. Watch me.” He stands up and grabs you, turning your shoulders around to face away from him and gives you a gentle push. “Now you march your cute little butt back to your hotel and we can try this again tomorrow.”

“Yoongi, oh my god.” You burst out laughing and your shoulders begin to shake with you how much you are laughing. You can hear him chuckling behind you before his hands move down and wrap around your waist, pulling you into a back hug.

“You have no idea how happy I am to finally have you here. I have never felt so many emotions in my heart at once but they are all good and they are all because of you.” You let your hands move down and your fingers play with his where they are resting on your waist. “But I really want to do this right. So please. Let’s pretend this first encounter never happened. And I’ll see you tomorrow at the river.. okay?” You smile and nod your head.

“Okay, Yoongi. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Can we meet earlier in the afternoon though instead of the evening. I-“

“Ah! Nope! My song says a crisp autumn EVENING. Not day. You’re just going to have to be patient now go on then!” He lets go of you and you let out a giggle but continue walking down the sidewalk. You don’t miss the footsteps trailing behind you on the way.

“What are you doing? I thought you said you didn’t want to meet until tomorrow? Now you’re following me back to my hotel? Scandalous. We haven’t even had our first date and you’re already-”

“Yah! Shush. I just want to make sure you make it back safely. I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s not safe at night time. Pretend I’m not here.”

“Okay.” You smile the whole way back. When you reach the hotel lobby and turn around he’s already gone. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you walk back to your hotel room. You open the door quietly and shuffle back in, kicking your shoes off and collapsing into bed. Your friend is awake now.

“Where did you go?”

“Just for a walk. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah, too anxious to meet him for the first time?” You laugh to yourself.

“Yeah, I was. But the walk really helped me. I think I am really ready to see him now.”

“Good! Now get some rest! We have a big day ahead. Well you do anyways. I’ll just be hanging around here anxiously waiting for you to get back and tell me every single detail of your first meeting.”

“Sure thing. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight y/n. I’m sure Yoongi is going to love you. You have nothing to worry about.” You roll over onto your side and before long you are about to drift off to sleep when a noise from your phone brings you out of your drowsy daze. You see it’s a notification for twitter. Yoongi, sent you a message.

By the way, you’re absolutely the most beautiful person I have ever seen.

You smile and your cheeks heat up, feeling a warmth in your chest as you finally drift off to sleep.

You don’t wake up until late afternoon. The jet lag, coupled with the anxiety you felt last night before meeting Yoongi and being up late had allowed you to sleep for a long time. You probably would have still been asleep if your friend wouldn’t have woken you up to go eat lunch. You don’t tell them that you already met Yoongi, having promised to pretend like it never happened and you intended to keep your word. You spend the day exploring the city, even going to the Line Friends store and picking up a few items to spoil yourself a little bit. You walk around and eat until it’s now starting to get dark outside.

“We should probably head over to the park now. I’ll ride in the taxi with you there but then after I drop you off I’ll head back to the hotel.”

“Wait why don’t you just wait for me? What if something goes wrong and-“ Your friend flicks your forehead.

“Y/n don’t start that nonsense. You two are probably going to be out together all night. Just text me and check in. Let me know how everything is going, alright?” You nod and hug your friend tightly.

“Thank you for coming with me, and pushing me out of my comfort zone. And annoying Yoongi with your horrible songs. If it weren’t for you I probably wouldn’t have met him.”

“Hmmm, yes you would. Fate would have made sure of it, but I will take the praise anyway.” Just then a taxi pulls up and you both get in. But when you arrive at the park only you get out. You wave to your friend as the car pulls away. The butterflies in your stomach feel like they are going to fly out of your mouth at any moment. You walk along the riverside, admiring the views and listening to the sounds of the crickets. You notice up ahead all of the flowers and your pace quickens when you notice Yoongi standing in the middle of all of them. He spots you and immediately starts waving. But you ignore it and keep walking. He stops waving and tilts his head in confusion.

“Y/n!” He yells your name but you still continue walking along the path towards him. “Are you going to say hi to me or not?!”

“Huh? Sorry do I know you?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“We’ve never met before. How do you know my name?” You are trying so hard not to laugh when it finally clicks with Yoongi.

“Ah yes you’re right. My mistake. Are you here to meet with someone?”

“Yes. My soulmate told me to meet him among the cosmos.” You say with a smile. Yoongi is absolutely beaming as he reaches down and takes your hand in his.

“Well then that would be me. I’m Yoongi. But you must have already known that if you heard my songs for you.” He brings your hand up to his lips and gently kisses the back of it. The shock it sends through you almost brings you to your knees.

“I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you soul mate.” Yoongi’s gummy smile widens further before he pulls you tightly into his arms. His hug is bone crushing, making it slightly hard for you to breathe but there is no way you would ask him to let go. Your arms are around his neck pulling him impossibly closer to you. He nuzzles his face into your shoulder and you feel your sweater dampen. You pull away in shock.

“Yoongi why are you crying?”

“Why are YOU crying?”

“I am not!” But you know you are. You can feel the tears streaming down your face and your voice cracks when you talk. “Okay I definitely am.” You both laugh and reach up to wipe each other’s tears away. You spend a few moments with your hands gently ghosting over each other’s faces, wanting to commit the way it feels to memory and make sure that the other was actually there.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here. I never thought we would ever find each other. When I learned that our connections were through the songs we had stuck in our heads, I just lost all hope of ever finding my soulmate.”

“To be honest for a while there I did too. It wasn’t until I first heard your music that I knew. I just felt it immediately that you were my soul mate.”

“I felt that too. When I read your comments on my songs it was like every cell in my body was calling out to you. I just… God I still can’t believe it.” He grabs you and pulls you into another hug. You both stand there for a while, just enjoying the feeling of each other’s warmth. Yoongi is the first to pull away but he doesn’t let go of your hand as he leads you on a short walk over to one of the benches overlooking the river. You sit next to each other in a comfortable silence.

“I’m not dreaming am I?” He wonders out loud. You reach over and pinch his side and he jumps away from you with a startled yell. “What was that?!”

“Proving to you that you aren’t dreaming.” He begins to laugh at that and the sound still makes your heart race. “But I know what you mean. It still doesn’t feel real.” Yoongi sits back down on the bench and laces your fingers together again, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Okay I gotta know. What kind of music do you really listen to?” You let out a snort at this.

“All different genres. Definitely not most of the ones that were stuck in your head though.”

“And that was your friend’s idea?”

“Yes. They thought it would be funny to mess with you a little bit. At least show that I have a sense of humor so you at least had some idea of what kind of person I was.”

“Honestly I just thought you were a person with shitty taste in music.” You both laugh playfully at that.

“How did you get the idea? For the songs I mean?”

“Ah, Namjoon gave me the idea to talk to you through song writing. For the past.. hmm month or so? The guys have really been helping me try and think of ways to find my soulmate. I think they were tired of seeing me mope all the time. They all had found theirs so easily I was just.. stuck.” Your heart clenches, knowing that feeling all too well. You squeeze his hand as a comforting gesture.

“I know what you mean.” Yoongi returns your squeeze.

“But hey everything worked out okay in the end right? We’re finally here with each other. I want to know you better. I want to know everything. What you’re passionate about, what things you like and dislike. Where you’re from, about your family, what your childhood was like. What-“

“Whoa there. We have all night Yoongi there is no rush.”

“We um.. have more than a night though right? Like… I know we’re soulmates fated to be together and all that but you still have a choice. Do you want to keep seeing me?” Yoongi seems insecure and unsure of himself now as he plays with the rings on your fingers and refuses to meet your gaze.

“Of course I want to continue seeing you! Why would you think even for a moment I wouldn’t?” He sighs and tries to untangle his hands from yours but you just hold on tighter.

“Being in a relationship with an idol isn’t easy y/n… I don’t think you fully understand what all of this is going to entail. You’re never going to have a moment of privacy. Even when we go out together on dates someone is almost always going to figure out who I am.”

“Well no one has so far tonight right? I think you just need to wear a mask and hide who you are then it won’t be so bad. Especially if we go out at night or go to more secluded places. I know dating an idol isn’t going to be easy but I don’t care about that. I just want to be with you. I’ll take all the good and bad that comes with it.” Yoongi stops trying to hold himself back any longer. He moves his hand behind your head and tugs you in closer to him so he can finally connect his lips to yours.

The kiss is sweet, gentle but loving. It’s like he’s pouring the years of emotions he’s felt towards you into the kiss. There isn’t any sparks or crazy fireworks. Everything just goes quiet, and suddenly it’s like you two are the only ones in the world right now. Yoongi pulls away after a few short moments. Even for just a short kiss you both are a bit breathless.

“Wow. I didn’t know kissing your soulmate would feel like that.” He says in between breatths.

“Me either. That was… perfect.” Yoongi smirks.

“Perfect? Wow am I that good of a kisser?” You playfully smack his arm and he laughs. You two spend quite a while talking on that bench. Asking questions and getting to know each other better. The moon is hanging high in the sky and all the stars are shining on the two of you. The wind starts to pick up and you shiver. “Ah are you cold, sweetheart?” He takes his jacket off and drapes it around you, although you did feel your face heat up at the petname. You hope Yoongi doesn’t notice your blush and will just assume it’s because you’re cold. “We can go now if you want to.” You shake your head back and forth quickly.

“No! I mean.. I don’t want to leave you yet.” His expression softens at your confession.

“Well.. We can go back to my place? If you’re comfortable with that?” You wiggle your eyebrows suggestively at him and he moves away from you.  “Not like that!”

“I’m kidding, Yoongi! I’d love to go back with you. Even if we don’t talk at all. Even if we just sleep it doesn’t matter. I just want to be around you.”

“I’m glad you feel that way because I was thinking the same thing.” He stands off the bench and takes your hand to lead you over to the car that was waiting to take the two of you back to his house. You send your friend a quick update text, to let her know everything was okay and going well. They send you back a bunch of heart emojis and you slip the phone back in your pocket. On the way up to his door it doesn’t sneak past your notice that he hasn’t let go of your hand the entire time you two have been together.

“Do you like holding hands?” He blushes and looks away, busying himself with entering the code into the door so it unlocks.

“Um.. Yeah I do. Does it bother you?”

“Not at all. I love it actually.”

“Do you want any tea or anything to drink to help warm you up?”

“Mmm, no. I just need you.” With how much Yoongi has been smiling he’s beginning to wonder if his muscles are just going to be permanently stuck.

“Do you want to go lay down? Maybe watch a movie?”

“That sounds perfect.”

You are both laying down now, in his bed. You are actually laying with Yoongi, your soulmate. Your head resting on his chest while he was a tight grip around your waist. You are starting to fall asleep when you feel his grip suddenly tighten around you. You lift your head up to look at him.

“Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah. Sorry did I squeeze you too hard?”

“No I just thought maybe something was wrong and you wanted my attention.” Yoongi shakes his head, but bites his lip as if he is thinking deeply about something.

“It’s not that I was upset or anything.. I just wanted to make sure that you were actually here. And that I’m not hallucinating, or just imagining all this. It still doesn’t feel real. I thought I had met my soulmate before. I was so sure but it turned out it was just someone using me for my fame.. And I was so desperate to just have that connection with someone that I ignored all the warning signs. And I know you aren’t like that. I know for 100% certain you’re my soulmate but…“

“But that nagging voice in the back of your head just keeps questioning things?” He nods in confirmation. You sit up and adjust yourself so you’re facing him. You take his face in your hands and make sure he is looking at you and can see the sincerity in your eyes. “I completely understand why you are worried. Believe me. But I would never do anything to hurt you. I would never use you like that. I promise that I am here, that I am real.” You grab his hand and place it on your heart. He closes his eyes and lets himself just feel. Your warmth, the gentle thrumming of your heart beat, the sounds of your breaths. It helps ground him.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. If you ever have doubts or are worried about anything you can always come to me. I want to be there for you.” Yoongi smiles that gummy smile that is going to quickly make you fall head over heels in love with him in no time if he keeps directing it at you.

“Thank you y/n.” He pecks your lips and then pats his chest for you to lay back down. Pretty soon your breaths even out and you’ve fallen asleep. Yoongi holds you just a little bit closer, and places a kiss to the top of your head. “I already like you so much and it kind of scares me. But I am going to give you my whole heart, angel. I hope you’ll keep it safe.”

“Don’t worry I will.” Yoongi jumps.

“I thought you were asleep!”

“I was but I am not that heavy of a sleeper remember? I woke up when I heard you talking.” Yoongi blushes but snuggles closer to you.

“Do you want to meet the other members tomorrow?”

“I’d love to! Can I bring my friend too?”

“Of course. You all are going to be a part of the family now we might as well all meet one another.” You smile at that and nuzzle into his chest. You both fall asleep quicker than you ever have before, finally feeling the comfort and safety of being in each other’s arms.

Tag list: @anoesjkaax​​​  @just-call-me-trash-can​ @thestral-balerion​ @xcastielbabyangelface​ @rukinamukami​ @r-e-d-i-s-h​ @heartblackerthancoffee​ @rosita7703​   @jacjacwashere​   @purpletigertaetae​  @woodstockisjustlikealittlekid​  @supernatural-bangtanboys​ @loveyoongles​ @barbikatherine​ @atulipandarose​ @bookluver01​ @cioccocalderoni​ @lyoongx​

@its-yagirl-raelynn it’s not letting me tag you :c 

[tamcitrus]

10 years later.

pairing: Bokuto Koutaro x g/n reader.

genre: angst, aged up characters

word count: 2K ~

prompt: It had been 10 years since your main character last saw their biggest crush. How they both ended up in the same city away from their hometowns makes no sense to them. How do they react and how does the story unfold?

a/n: first time using the prompt of the week! @kingkags I hope you're up for some angst 🌈 and @loneveenas I hope you like what I come up for your potw! 💕

It started with you coming back from abroad after getting your degree. You were outside your country for many years. After your parents' divorce and your break up with some foreign guy, you decided to come back home with your mom. You were in contact with your best friend in Tokyo and you meet her boyfriend, Hinata Shouyou.

"Come on, you have to come with me, you'll have fun and Shou has a lot of hot friends! Just for a while, if you're not vibing with it we can leave. You're sleeping here tonight anyways, so..." she said.

"Will there be alcohol?"

"Yeah, it's a party! They reserved a little restaurant, so it'll be just the team and their friends."

"Ok then we go," you agreed.

And later, you were happy you did.

You met Hinata as soon as you arrived.

"Order whatever you want, y/n! The drinks are on the team!" Hinata said and then he took his girlfriend away.

You walked to the bar and ordered a beer, watching everyone talk and dance. Hinata really had some handsome teammates. Maybe, with a bit of alcohol running through your system, you could talk to one of them.

"I'll take a beer, please 'Samu!" a man said by your side to a guy who seemed to be the bartender.

His voice was familiar. You looked aside to see the guy and gasped. This… couldn't be.

And then, the biggest golden eyes looked at you, and after a minute they showed recognition. And you remembered him too.

"Bokuto-kun?" you asked, just in case your memory betrayed you.

"Y/n? Oh my god, it's you!" he was as loud as you remembered him.

He was going to hug you but stopped to look at you and check if you were ok with it. You smiled at him and tied your arms around his neck. He hugged you tight from your waist.

"I can't believe you're here! How long it's been? Five years?"

"Like ten actually," you laughed. "I… do you play with Hinata?"

"Yeah! Do you know him?" he let you go.

"His girlfriend is my best friend, they invited me," you explained.

“That’s crazy! We live in a small world, right? Did you see the game?”

“No, sorry,” you laughed. “We just got here. But it’s great to see you’re a pro now, it really suits you.”

He guided you to an empty table and told you about how he became pro and how some of his teammates were his rivals back at high school. You told him about your years abroad, and how you decided to come back after a failed relationship.

“Are you living in our old neighborhood?” he said.

“No, we're here in the big city now.”

“Hey hey, Bokkun, we were looking for you! We'll play beer pong, are you in?" a blond guy interrupted your talk. "How about you? Wanna play...?"

"I'm y/n. And yes, I'd like to play," you smiled.

"He's Miya Atsumu. Tsumu this is y/n, an old friend!" Bokuto introduced you to his teammate.

He shook your hand and smiled at you. Then you followed him to the group that was playing.

A two hours and a lot of drinks later, you were drunk. Your friend found you again, sitting in a couch and laughing with Bokuto and Atsumu. She sat by your side to talk to you in the ear. Hinata was holding her hand, still standing.

"Hey, I'm gonna get going, I have something to do," she told you and you laughed.

You were too drunk to think straight and you slowly understood her words.

"Are you ditching me? Sakura?" you said, a bit louder than you intended.

"I can take you to her house later!" a smiling Bokuto offered and then he winked at Hinata.

"That's great, Shouyou will text you my address! Thanks, Bokuto-san! See you later, babe!"

And with a kiss on your cheek your friend left you there. You wanted to say something else but the alcohol in your system didn't allowed you to.

"You can crush in my place, if you want," Bokuto sit closer to you once Atsumu got up to talk to someone. "I don't think they'll end their thing soon, Hinata has a lot of stamina," he laughed.

You nodded and try to get up. Bokuto laughed when you almost trip with your own feet and grabbed your arm to keep you steady.

"Ok, maybe we can get going too, what do you think?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to bust your celebration," you pouted.

"I'm sure, yeah, I'm tired anyway. I'll text Hinata so your friend won't worry, ok? I'mma go say goodbye to the boys and be right back with you!"

He was still the same caring friend from ten years ago. It made your stomach to feel butterflies.

You sat on a chair near the door and you waited for him to come back. You texted Sakura, or at least you tried to, you'll check it in the morning. Bokuto was back in a few minutes and he guided you to his car. The trip was silent but you appreciated it. The cold wind of the night sober you up a bit.

"Thank you for inviting me, Bokuto," you said when you arrived. "You're probably the only person I trust in this city besides Sakura," you laughed.

"No problem. It was crazy to see you there today. Maybe we can finish our talk in the morning," he smiled.He signaled you to wait a minute and you sat on his couch.

He had a nice apartment, there was books everywhere and weights among other training stuff. You didn't remember he was a fan of books in the past.

Bokuto was back, changed, and offered you some clothes for you to change too.

"There's my bedroom, you have a bathroom inside and if you need anything else, I'll be in the couch."

"I can't come back after a decade and take your bed. I'll sleep in the couch."

"Y/n, you had too much alcohol to sleep in a tiny couch. You don't want your body aching with your head tomorrow, trust me," he laughed. "Please, use my bed."

"Ok but if you're uncomfortable, let me know," you said.

You really wanted to stay awake and keep talking to him, but your body thought otherwise. As soon as you got changed and hit the king size bed, you were out.

-

The next morning you woke up with a horrible headache and the smell of coffee dragging you to consciousness. Bokuto was humming to some pop song that was playing in a low volume.

"Good morning," you said after cleaning yourself up and walking outside the room.

"Hey, y/n, good morning! Do you have a headache? I don't have any medicine for it but I can drive you to your friend's place and we can get some in the way," he was turned with your back at you.

It was surreal. He was there, your childhood best friend, your biggest crush ever, the same you remembered him from many years ago: friendly, selfless, funny, the same black and grey wild hair. And somehow he was even more handsome now.

"I can take the bus there, don't worry about it. Do you need help?"

"All done!" he walked to the table with a tray with two coffees and cookies.

"We can go out next time and I'll pay, in return for last night," you said. "Well, if you want…"

"I have a few free days this week so I'll take your offer," he smiled.

The breakfast was for catching up, again. You felt you could talk to him about your years without seeing each other forever. He talked to you about high school after you left, volleyball and his pro career. And you exchanged numbers. Then, he drove you to Sakura's place. Hinata was still there so they left together.

"I can't believe you left me there last night," you said to your friend when you were alone.

"Hinata told me you and Bokuto knew each other, so I thought you'd be fine, I wasn't gonna leave you with some stranger!" she excused. "And you left with him! What happened?"

"Nothing happened, I was drunk…"

-

Bokuto texted you later that week and you met again on his free day for dinner.

"Life's pretty much the same but sometimes people recognizes me or stops me in the streets now, that's crazy," he laughed. "What about you?"

"Nothing that interesting. I got my business degree in England and I'm working at my mom's company for now, until I can use my degree here," you took a sip of your wine.

"And your failed relationship?"

"Oh, I thought he was a good guy but it turned out he wasn't," you faked a smile. "I wouldn't say I was in love but I cared about that idiot."

"That's a shame, you were a great person when you lived here and I bet you're even better now," he commented.

"Thanks, Bokuto," you blushed.

I shouldn't let my hopes up, you thought. Surely he has someone in his life after all this time. I shouldn't revive an old feeling.

"Shit, sorry, I have to get this," he said when his phone rang.

"No problem, I'll ask for the dessert while you talk," you smiled and he nodded at you.

-

You saw each other several times the next two weeks. Every talk, every text, every meeting you had reminded you why you were in love with him. Maybe you never really got over him. Maybe, deep inside, you still loved him.

"I'd say you go for it!" Sakura told you one day. "I never heard that he had a partner and, come on, how could you not brag if you were dating someone like him? We should've seen a picture or something."

"I don't think Hinata would be happy to hear you say that," you laughed and tried to avoid the topic.

"Come on, y/n. You're amazing and he seems to be interested to rebuild your friendship after a decade. Shoot your shot, my friend, don't let the opportunity vanish again."

You sighed and kept drinking with your friend. Maybe next time, you thought.

-

A week later, you were at Bokuto's place again, having "the afternoon english tea" as he said. You even got him some blends to try.

"You did this every day when you were abroad?" he asked.

"No, not always. I tried to keep my japanese traditions too," you smiled at him.

You watched a movie and shared silly comments in between. The sun was going down when it ended.

"Do you want to order a pizza?" he asked.

"Yeah, that'd be cool," you agreed.

This is it. Now or never.

"Can I talk to you about something? When you finish the call," you said and he nodded.

He grabbed his phone and walked to the fridge to get the number from his favorite pizza shop. Just before he dialed, the doorbell rang. He walked to the door and gasped after he opened it.

"Akaashi!" he sounded happy.

You leaned back to look at the door and saw something that maybe you shouldn't have seen. They were kissing. It was quick and innocent but it was a kiss. You looked at the tv again.

"Y/n is here!" Bokuto said and they were walking inside. "I told you about them, remember?"

"Yes and you texted me about them too," Akaashi softly laughed. He had luggage with him and he left it by the door.

"Y/n, he's Akaashi Keiji. Do you remember him? He was in first year, you met him before you left," Koutaro introduced you.

"Yes, I do, you were Bokuto's teammate! It's nice to see you, Akaashi-kun," you smiled.

"Nice to see you're back, y/n-san. Bokuto told me that you happened to meet at a party, that's a huge coincidence. It sounds like fate."

"I was about to order pizza, did you eat something?" Bokuto asked from the kitchen.

"No but pizza sounds good," he smiled. Then he disappeared inside Bokuto's room.

Fate. Yeah, it was laughing at your expense.

"He looks tired, maybe I should go," you said when you heard the shower.

"It's ok, you can stay!" Bokuto turned around to look at you. "Are you ok, y/n?" he saw your weird expression.

"I have to go, sorry," you grabbed your stuff and walked to the door.

He followed you outside after he told Akaashi he was going out for a second.

"What's wrong?" he asked again.

"I… I'm sorry. I didn't know…" you struggled to explain.

"Is this about Akaashi?"

"No- uhm, well, not exactly. It doesn't matter," you were standing at the entrance of his little house.

"I'm sorry. I should've told you…" he figured out by himself. "We don't… we can't make it super public, he's a writer and his agent…"

"No, it's fine, you don't have to explain. I never asked," you laughed. "Akaashi is a perfect fit for you."

"Yeah, he's… awesome. You're awesome too, I mean it," he hugged you.

"Thanks, Bokuto. And I'm happy for you."

You separated from him and smiled.

"Text me when you have a free day, I'll invite you both to eat," you kissed his cheek. "See you later."

-

You went to Sakura's apartment that night. After a bottle of wine, you were able to tell her what happened.

"His partner was on a trip. And then… they arrived with me there. And I was about to… I was gonna tell Bokuto maybe I never got over him… and then he was kissing someone…"

"I'm sorry, I was the one that told you to go for it," Sakura felt guilty.

"Nah, that's fine. I… it's been 10 fucking years, there's no way he wouldn't have someone. He's the perfect guy," you laughed.

"Ok, so... There's this guy. Shouyou's teammate…"

"I don't know if I'm interested…"

"Atsumu, that's his name. Shou told me he asked about you the other day, he wants your number."

"Well, tell Hinata that he can give Atsumu my number," you agreed.

"Just have some fun and you'll get over it. Besides, he's still your friend, right?"

"Yeah, he is."

[kuramirocket]

It’s been more than a month since Frank Coronado got COVID-19, but the photographer from Oaxaca, Mexico, still gasps for air when he speaks sometimes. Although his illness didn’t put him in the hospital, his case was severe enough that he worried about suffocating in his sleep.

Coronado’s personal experience with the coronavirus has made the Oaxaca native sensitive to the pandemic situation in the state. As he watched case numbers continuing to rise, he also noticed more tourists defying widely practiced public-health protocols like wearing face masks in public.

On Feb. 25, Coronado posted a plea to his 171,000 Instagram followers: “Dear travelers, you are welcome in Oaxaca, but you should ALWAYS wear a mask when you are in public places.”

He wanted to publicly address the issue and encourage visitors to do better – particularly visitors who travel from Oaxaca City into smaller rural villages, where artisans are even more vulnerable.

“I get mad because I already went through (COVID-19) and know how bad it feels,” Coronado says. “I don’t want my people, the people of Oaxaca, to get sick.”

Unlike many of the world’s most-frequented tourism hot spots, Mexico never fully closed to foreign visitors. While the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has said Americans should avoid all travel to Mexico because of a “very high level” of coronavirus, the country has remained one of the most popular destinations throughout the pandemic.

Still, Mexico tourism plummeted last spring as it did around the globe; according to the state government, Oaxaca recorded less than half of its 2019 visitor arrival numbers in 2020. Numbers picked up again last summer, but welcoming outsiders back as the pandemic continues to rage has been complicated.

While Oaxaca doesn’t pull in nearly as many visitors as Mexican destinations such as Cancún, Acapulco or Mexico City, tourism is a significant part of its economy. Those who work in the industry have suffered.

With business trickling back, Sánchez is elated. He took coronavirus prevention courses by the Mexican Institute of Social Security (IMSS) and guided his first tour again on Oct. 20. Now he follows precautions such as checking guests’ temperatures, requiring face masks, social distancing and providing hand sanitizer. He also helps Americans get their mandatory coronavirus tests.

Most of his returning customers have complied with his safety protocols. But that’s not the case with all of the tourists he sees around town, like the Americans who refused to wear a mask at the request of an ice cream vendor, or the people who regularly break coronavirus rules at Monte Albán, Oaxaca’s most famous archaeological site.

“As soon as they go through the checkpoint, 30 steps after that, they take their masks off,” Sánchez says. “And most of them are foreigners.”

Beyond Monte Albán and Oaxaca City, Oaxaca’s artisan culture is one of its strongest selling points. It’s common for tourists to take day trips out to remote villages to see how the state’s famed mezcal alcohol, and arts and crafts, are made. With little access to medical care, those communities have been particularly vulnerable during the pandemic. Many closed to outsiders to protect themselves, but some have started welcoming back visitors for income despite the risk involved.

Omar Alonso, who has run food and mezcal tours in Oaxaca for seven years, says visiting rural communities can be done safely with the small private groups he vets ahead of time. But he regularly runs into the kinds of tourists he fears.

For example, Alonso says he often sees maskless foreigners in the mountain town of San José Del Pacifico between Oaxaca City and the beach.

“If you are going through a town where there’s locals and older people serving you food because that’s what they do for a living, it’s very frustrating because (foreigners) don’t respect them,” says Alonso, whose uncle died of COVID-19. “I can tell you that yesterday, when we went to have lunch, out of the maybe 20 tourists that we saw walking around town, maybe two of them had a mask.”

Vera Claire, a U.S. expat whose nonprofit Cosa Buena works with local Indigenous communities to preserve their artistic traditions, says she believes some tourists’ perception of Mexico could be the problem.

“I think there’s a stereotype of (Mexico) being a place with no rules, a place to have fun and relax and enjoy yourself,” she says. She regularly receives messages on social media or emails from strangers asking for Oaxaca travel advice, noting that they need to get away and forget about their lives in the United States for a while, she says.

“That’s a really dangerous narrative, of course, because they come here with that mentality that there’s no rules,” Claire says. “Those of us who are foreigners living here all have a responsibility of shedding light on the severity of the situation. … Mexico is beautiful. It’s a wonderful place to escape to. But the same thing is happening here.”

The frequency of spotting maskless tourists in Oaxaca City is increasing despite the prevalence of signs encouraging masks and most locals complying with the practice, Claire says. It’s unsettling as the coronavirus seems to be encroaching on her community.

It’s impossible to know exact case numbers in the area as testing is limited. But it was reported in January that hospitalizations in Oaxaca for COVID-19 were rising rapidly, with 13 hospitals in the state at full capacity and facing a desperate oxygen tank shortage, a problem plaguing more than Oaxaca.

“It’s a dramatic situation, and it’s not something tourists are seeing,” he says. “This is a harsh reality that doesn’t show up on Instagram.”

Reyes said he thinks the worst offenders are young tourists. He has watched them come from around the world to travel along a well-worn party circuit through Mexico City, Tulum and Oaxaca, attending huge, mask-free gatherings and putting locals at risk.

“It sends a really sad, de-motivating message to locals who are taking care of each other,” Reyes says. “We are all trying to keep it together, and these guys are flying around the city enjoying themselves and not taking care of us.”

Many in Oaxaca City don’t have the luxury of isolating from tourists – like Aurora Tostado, who owns the downtown coffee shop Marito & Moglie with her husband.

“People in Mexico, we have to get out of our homes to work. It’s not like we can work remotely like most of the people in the U.S.,” Tostado says.

The couple made adjustments to Marito & Moglie, moving more tables to an outside patio and encouraging customers to keep masks on and social distance. Insisting on safety protocols is something that makes her and her employees feel more comfortable at work, and something most guests appreciate – but Tostado notices others around town behaving as if the pandemic is over. “This is not Disneyland,” she would like to tell them.