#yeah no joke you better bring that revival up

[yourlocalgrass]

I just realised I know the birthday Nightmare comes up on the exact day as the said character’s birthday but doesn’t the revival come almost like 5 days before their Birthday??

There hasn’t been any birthday Pop Quiz revival for Levi yet… it should have been here by now. I mean we can still wait until the last day and if it pops up or they’ve removed birthday revival events then… that’s the last of OM ever left that they’ve just removed.

Infact I’ve just realised the recent Birthday Pop Quizz revivals end 2 days before the character’s Birthday

-Simeon’s Birthday is on February 10th

-The twins Birthday is on March 11th

So if we’re talking about Levi’s birthday revival here, it should have ended by now. And well, there you have it, there’s nothing yet. I mean just gotta wait and see…

[catsandgoodbooks]

No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”

Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”

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

“Careful, it’s hot.” Philza passed Dream a cup of tea, who took it cautiously. Dream wrapped his hands around the cup; his hands were cold and the cup was warm. It was nice. “It went well, mates?”

“We got everything we wanted done, so I’d say yeah, it did,” Technoblade answered, hanging his cape up on a hook. 

Punz scoffed, rolling their eyes. “You don’t say, Technoblade.” They looked back at Phil and Dream. “I mean, he’s dead now and the whole place’s burnt to the ground. It’s taken care of.”

Niki smiled at the two of them brightly. “It’s safe to say we won’t have to worry about them anymore, right?” she asked, sitting down on the couch and narrowly avoiding sitting on Dream’s toes.

“Thanks, guys.” Dream knew they wanted him to say that, and he didn’t want to disappoint them. “Like, that’s great, thank you, but did you have to do that–”

“He hurt you,” Techno interrupted. “Quackity hurt you, and we needed to make sure that he would regret that.”

“Exactly,” Punz acquiesced. “We might not of had to do that, but we fucking wanted to, Dream.” (“My poor monetization,” Techno grumbled.) “He deserved it, and there needs to be consequences sometimes or everyone’s going to be running around doing whatever the hell they want.”

“I can’t speak for everyone here, but I think it’s safe to say that we care about you, and, uh, we don’t like people we care about getting cut up by people we don’t,” Ranboo volunteered from where he was hovering. 

(Phil offered Punz a cup of tea as well, and they took it. “Thanks.” The mercenary pulled out a chair and settled down)

“I couldn’t of said it better myself,” Techno agreed, and Ranboo puffed up a little bit at the approval. “We care, Dream. Even if you don’t want to admit it, it’s the truth.”

“Uh-huh.” Niki smiled over at Dream. “We care, and that’s the important thing here. We’re family at this point.”

“You have a point there,” Techno commented. “A very good point.” He glanced over a Dream. “You hear that? You’re never gettin’ rid of us.”

“Nope,” Punz remarked, smiling crookedly. “Not even this ‘until death’ shit. We all know that’s stupid.”

Dream rolled his eyes. “You know that I’m the necromancer here, right? I could just, like, not bring you back.” 

(He and Punz still hadn’t told the rest of the Syndicate about the Revival Book situation. They didn’t need to know about it. It would just invite too many questions)

“I think it’s a bit late for that, mate,” Phil told him, smiling faintly. “You wouldn’t still be here if that was actually a possibility.”

“Fine, fine,” Dream compromised. “I’ll stop. I’d totally bring all of you guys back if you died.”

“Good to know. Now I don’t have to worry about losing any of my lives,” Technoblade joked. “I can do as much stupid stuff as I want now.”

Dream glared at him. “That’s not what I said, Techno.”

“It basically is,” Punz responded. “Also, there seems to be a bit of double standard there, you know, considering the fact that you literally locked yourself up in prison.”

Niki grimaced. “Not your greatest moment, was it?”

“Let’s not talk about it right now. Doesn’t matter.” Dream really didn’t want to talk about that right now. (Or ever, really) 

“Thanks, I guess.” Dream pulled the blanket tighter around himself. He wanted to just make sure about one thing, but it would be showing vulnerability, opening himself up to admitting that he cared and getting hurt…

“Just checking but…you’re not going to leave, right?”

“Of course not, Dream. You’re one of us now. Yes, yes, I said it chat, you can stop screaming now.” Techno rolled his eyes but sobered up quickly. “You’re family, Dream.”

[newtthetranswriter]

Please may I have a Fairy tail headcanon of Gray Fullbuster with a female S/O who has Edward Elric's abilities from Fullmetal alchemist. S/O joined Fairy tail when she was a young child not long after Gray did..S/Os unlimited abilities meant that she can basically create anything that she can put her mind too..she isn't nicknamed the metal mage for nothing. She isn't proud of what she had done back then..she earned those abilities to be a metal alchemist at a consequence of trying to revive her late mother..she was damn lucky that she didn't lose her body parts..she is a independent young woman in Fairy tail and a member of Team Natsu.

So, I've never done headcanons before, but I'll give it a go, hope you enjoy these. I'm not sure if this is exactly what you're looking for, but I did my best, if you enjoy please feel free to let me now and don't be afraid to send ion more requests. Anyway Enjoy and have a good day/night. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

Alchemy isn't an exact science, things can go wrong, and that's what happened when you tried to bring back your mom.

Unlike past Alchemists who had tried to bring people back from the dead you were lucky, you saw the truths of the world but managed to hang on to all of your limbs.

With the knowledge of the universe giving you a major boost in your magic at such a young age, you needed to join a guild to help control and grow this power.

At the age of 8 you wondered into the guild hall of non-other than Fairy Tail, a legendary guild full of powerful mages.

You were welcomed with open arms by nearly everyone there except one kid who couldn't keep his clothes on, when you first meet Gray, he was cold to you, not to say you were really any better having just lost your mother for a second time.

As time passed you grew stronger and more confident in your abilities to manipulate the chemical structure of items and shift them into new things. You primarily specialized in turning things to metal to create more useful weapons.

Master Makarov saw your potential and by the age of 17 you had become an S class wizard known as the Metal Mage.

Along with growing your power the tension between you and gray only got worse, almost like him and Natsu's fighting but with a little more flirting

like I see you guys sitting at the guild hall ignoring each other until he pops off with something stupid about being better a making things with his magic and you just use your magic to make something to hit him with using the table and yell at him about covering his abs because in typical gray fashion he's probably in his boxers.

At first no one notices the more flirty comments until one of you calls the other handsome/beautiful directly making the other blush

Being as stubborn as you are you try to deny it for the longest time and so does he

Now if we add on the being a part of team Natsu, it gets more hectic

I'm talking Happy teasing you, Natsu trying to tease you but ultimately ending up fighting Gray for something he says, Wendy is just confused, Lucy and Erza think its kind of cute that the two stubborn mages wont admit their feelings, and then there is Carla who just thinks everyone involved is dumb

And when you guys finally get together i don't think a lot would change

like yeah you guys don't fight as much or the comments aren't as pointed but there is still playful bickering between the two of you

I just feel that Gray is the type to show affection by being sarcastic

also spend a lot of time just hanging out show off your magic to each other and getting ideas from each other

When you get together Happy still makes stupid jokes, Natsu still tries to tease you guys but fails, Lucy, Erza and now Wendy are secretly planning your wedding as soon as it announced you're dating, and Carla is happy for you two.

Now on to some other aspects of the relationship,

If you are having a bad day because of something reminding you of your past Gray will 100% understand, and try to help you calm down

He knows how hard it is to have a difficult childhood and lose your family so he's going to try to make it better

he may not be able to bring your mom back but he can try not to fight Natsu as much and stay close to you for support.

and vice versa, if he's having a hard time with let's say Juvia being annoying, You would be there to try and be a buffer, or if she doesn't take the hint just telling her off.

Overall I see Gray and you being very close and comforting when its just the two of you, but if you're with the rest of the guild or on a mission you know how to be respectful of everyone around you.

[thevaudevilledemon]

Cartoon Rap Battle: Brian Griffin vs Shane

Shane

I can't believe the humiliation to log Most beloved Bachelor up against a dog?

Oh yeah, you can talk? What good does that Scooby-dooby-doo? When the last remains of your fandom have left the coop and flew?

Take your Paw, tuck it back in your doggy collar Raise your ear I think I hear Peter tryna holler

What stupid crap is he in now I got half-an-hour Maybe I'll tune in to hear another suicide joke, so dower

You went from straight man to nuisance when you were paired with the baby Overshadowed by Arnold's british cousin, that's no fair Lady

So catch me at the Saloon trying to drown my sorrow Gus has a sale on beer so I'll come back tomorrow

Brian

Woah, Ass Ahoy! You aren't the homeless guy right Did you crawl out the dumpster like a baby at prom night?

When it comes to Alcoholics you should stay Anonymous I'm a Writer, you're a stocker, we are not synonymous

At least I take better care of Stewie than Peter or Lois You know Jas would be better without you and your cirrohsis

Don't bother the blue man, because he's for the birds You know that's the word, everybody's heard

I'm accomplished and nothing more needs to be said Except that unlike you I could be revived from the dead

Shane

That revival was a sham, and you know it's true They dropped that whole plotline after week two

You're better than Peter or Lois? what a low bar And I think that is something which you'd be familiar

You say you're a firm believer in fact When you're nothing more than a sell-out hack

Let what Glenn said haunt you until you expire And frankly you shouldn't be talked down to by Quagmire

Brian

Go to Hell, I stood up for what I believe When you stand up it's all you achieve

You're a slob and a drunk at least I have qualities You're only loved by the "I Can Fix Him" mentalities

Shane

They can't fix me, that's the point of my arc I can fix myself, with their light in my dark

You let yourself be bullied and bribed to shut your face Of all the cartoon pets you're a total disgrace

Brian

At least I am total when it comes to something The people prefer shadow monsters over drunk-y nothings

You drink Joja Cola, though you hate it as a gift Maybe you need something else to give your spirits a lift

Take your blue chickens and get them out of here I'm a non-GMO environmentalist peer

So maybe I should date Emily, she's not your type Stick to bitches like Pam, you're not worth the hype

You wanna do good? Take Jas with you when your wed A pair of shoes don't make up for using your floor as a bed

I may be an animal, but you're the real dog You just faced the badest bitch in Quahog

Shane

Why are you giving me your garbage lines? They're an even worse embarrassment than Peter's Crimes

Don't give me parenting advice like I'm a real villain May I ask about your estranged son, where the Hell is Dylan?

You're a bad father, and the show knows it anyway You make me want to kill myself like you made Hemingway

But between the two of us, I think I recovered better You gave a baby herpes, and hid your own tetter

Oh I'm sorry, you don't know what that word means? You'd have better rhymes if you were a better writer it seems

You're a bad dog, Brian, You've had your day So bring back Vinny and just go away!

[kalolasfantasyworld]

Chapter 6 time~!

Nozel's aura was brilliantly captured! There was the art at the end of the previous chapter but this prose description makes it better!

Okay about this confrontation... At first, I thought that Helena squaring up against Nozel only to immediately stand down when he points out her faux pas of undermining him in front of his squad was rushed. But then I re-read the scene and was like "wait yeah. It works actually. Helena is socially adept and since she's not nearly as proud as the Silvas (she has a little pride, just not as much as our favorite dysfunctional siblings), she would be able to bring herself to step down in this specific scenario.

Helena then gets her chance to blow up with range once in the privacy of her guest room at least! The pillow scream... Girl! 😫 (Might just be me but I find screaming into pillows makes me stress worse, might have something to do with running out of air while my mouth and nose are covered. But at least it works for Helena.)

Helena's back and forth thoughts are funny. I don't know why. "I lowkey insulted him" but then "he straight up insulted me" but also "oof, I went to his base without permission." Not emotionally constipated the way some canon characters are. Maybe emotional indigestion? Upset tummy for the heart. ... No that sounds silly.

Man, Helena is lucky that her stuff wasn't moved from where she left them. If this wasn't a cool down chapter, that stuff would be gone and she would have to tear the castle inside out to find them again. And for the sketchbook. I don't remember if she left it open but if not, um, yikes. Don't know how she's able to brush off the thought of someone looking into her private property and seeing her art, but if it was me and my little writing journal, I'd honestly just go back to my home country. That's how touchy and embarrassed I am of my own creative work. (You shudder at the thought of your family reading your stuff and yet you post online for strangers? Soda, make it make sense.)

Hours later? The same spot?! Oooooh, I hope Helena was doing regular back stretches during the scene break or it's gonna be a back back for her./lh

“I knew I’d find you here,” Nozel said "No you didn't, you just searched literally every other room in the castle until the library was the last place left," I snarkily remarked in a weird attempt to make a joke out of his arrival.

When Nozel comes to talk, it feels less like Nozel being the bigger person in the situation, and more like him establishing a baseline of respect. More professional in line with his role as captain (which Helena kinda points out) then a personal exchange... Nozel was thinking "Do not show emotional vulnerability. Do not show emotions, period. Don't show anything except the aura of authority." Also, I'm seeing that this will be the starting point of Helena calling Nozel "captain" as a tease.

Aw, I like the detail about the way the Silva siblings interact at the table. Solid and Nebra telling stories (they may not be nice to Noelle but they are the bold/outgoing type so being prone to regaling their missions to others feels fitting) and Nozel being the big brother and keeping the details firmly in reality when need be.

Man, you're being a lot nicer to the Silva garden than I've been. I've never written about it but the thoughts in my brain tend to characterize it as beautiful but sterile because none of the Silvas were invested in the garden and thus the castle as a whole didn't do much with it. It's only until after Helia (or Briar) enters the family that the garden gets revived and the Silva siblings also show more active interest. But you make it out to be elegantly maintained with a refined charm that Helena appreciates.

And now we have the set up for chapter seven. A banquet. Lots of eating and talking and mostly talking because fictional politics~! 😆

Overall, a good chapter with resolution from last chapter's cliffhanger, slowly calming the sour impressions between Nozel and Helena, and generally just cooling down from the action before we pick up for a big event.

Hi!

Thank you! I really tried with that description. Well the art was more of a joke, because my friend said that he's as scary as the Groke from moomins... So many things start from jokes 😂

Yup it really works well, that she realises she was at fault here. Especially since she wouldn't want anyone undermining her authority. Helena sticks closely by the rule don't act towards others the way you wouldn't want them to act towards you.

She was still very frustrated and yeah the pillow scream. She was taught as a part of Royal upbringing to control herself, but since she's an emotional person she needs to blow off the steam from time to time.

Chapter six was the moment for me when Helena started "feeling" much more like Helena. Aka she started being funny, those back and forth thoughts are an example. But yes she's connected with her feelings. Helena is not the one to be stuck in denial for a long time, she'd rather confront most her problems (contrary to some other characters...).

She probably didn't leave the sketchbook open. And the thing about that library no one really goes there. Just servants come from time to time to clean up. Well no one except for Nozel.

So you might have not noticed since you were surprised, but he actually knew that he would find her there. There was this one moment I think in chapter 4, I would need to look back, when she's sitting in the library and someone tries to open the door, but then leaves. And in the last chapter Nebra and Solid mentioned that he likes to work there. I suppose the library was one of my first headcanons for Nozel, that he needs a quiet place to himself.

And back to the previous comment, yeah there were certainly some stretches 😂 I just wasn't bothered to write that.

You're completely right Nozel is certainly not the bigger person in this situation. Helena isn't either. They're both quite petty actually. It was just establishing some rules in order to live "peacefully" and not rub the other the wrong way.

But yes this is also the moment when Helena starts feeling more comfortable and she begins to joke. Captain started as a normal "captain" later it changed a bit more into an authority kink 😂

Yay I'm so happy you enjoyed the fact that the dinner conversations are happeining. I actually genuinely worried at first that people would be mean saying ohhh they're too big assholes to act this way, but I thought they cared about one another and in BC we simply saw Noelle's perspective, who they bullied. Since Helena is "on their level" with her Royal status and they established the connection through Acier, she kind of started becoming "one of their own" so as you pointed out, as the more outgoing types they start babbling. I mean Solid has to brag. And yes Nozel won't tell stories, but specifying details is alright. Watching over the young ones.

So for the Silva gardens I headcanon that Acier used to adore them. We saw her pregnant self sitting on the porch and overlooking them. So naturally I assumed that Nozel would make sure to assign staff to maintain them. They are still "pristine", "geometrical" and "sophisticated". There is not much life or color or life to them, but they're pretty and Helena can appreciate them. Besides more than the gardens themselves she enjoys the emotions they give her. Helena herself may not be the gardener. She actually doesn't like getting dirty. However the Drazel familia has close ties to the nature. In the first chapter I described briefly the extent of their gardens, but they are a special place.

And let's not forget the siblings don't bother with taking care of the gardens.

Thank you! Hah I honestly would disagree with calling this slowly considering my normal "slow burn" approach, but I was very impatient with getting to the "good part" aka merging with the BC story line. So the scenes in these chapters are quite short compared to how I write now and a lot of time passes in between, when not much changes except the siblings and Helena getting used to one another.

Thank you for your comment 💕 They made my day ^^

[violetswritingg]

Canary Cry

Robin/Nightwing (Dick Grayson) x OFC!

Description: Her violence was silent. Until it wasn't.

"I'm fine."

"Fine is just another word for drowning."

Rating T-M (mentions of blood, child abuse, mental health, cannon situations of violence and the like. Loss of parents, hard of hearing/deaf character, poorly written fight scenes lol)

Want to read the other chapters?

Click here

5

SANTA PRISCA

July 22, 23:08 ECT

"Uh... Goldie, you got a little something-" KF pointed at her shoulder, withering under the glare the blonde sent him from her position leaning against a tree. 

"I'm fine." Kate pushed out, "And how many times have I told you? Don't call me Goldie!" She harshly whispered, pushing off the tree and leaving a bloody handprint behind.

"GF..." Robin trailed off worriedly, his own gloved hands reaching forward and touching the wet blood. He turned his mask covered eyes to her shoulder, seeing the graze but not seeing blood. His eyes moving down to where she had been holding before. Her side. "It's going to keep bleeding until it's stitched up."

"Which isn't an option right now. I'm fine! I'm good to keep going. Let's go." Kate snapped again, weakly pushing past Robin and KF, Aqualad stopping her by latching onto her uninjured shoulder.

"Goldfinch, you are injured, worse than I thought and a team is only as strong as its weakest link-"

"I am not a weak link." Kate growled ripping herself away from the leader. "How many times do I need to tell you I'm fine before you believe me?! I've taken a lot worse than this on my own and kept going."

"I did not mean to offend-"

"Yeah, well you did. I'm okay to keep going and kick some cultist ass. I won't say it again." Kate steeled her failing center of balance by sheer force of will and continued in the direction they needed to go to get back to the factory.

The team shared a look and followed after their injured member.

~~*~~

Kate went over the plan in her head again as they waited, taking a breath. Ignoring the multiple sets of eyes boring into her being.

"Here." Robin appeared at her side, a container of water in hand and being offered to her. "It should help the dizziness."

With narrowed eyes Kate hesitantly took the offering and gulped down some water. Feeling a bit better as she wiped her mouth with the back of her glove. "Thanks."

"I don't think BC would be too happy if we came back with a dead Goldfinch." He joked, successfully making Kate chuckle. His grin growing at the sound.

"No, no she would not. She would undoubtedly find a Lazarus pit, revive me, only to kill me again. Then bring me back one last time just to make sure I learned my lesson." Robin managed to smother his laugh with his hand at the girl's matching humor.

"Why didn't you use your canary cry back there?" Robin asked, as if knowing he was treading on thin ice.

"What have you done?!"

"It's not exactly inside friendly, and with ceilings like that it would be echoing so loud we wouldn't be able to hear ourselves think." If her response sounded practiced, it's because it was.

"Right. I should get in position, good luck out there." Robin seemed to know that's all he was getting from her, and he left. Taking one last moment to herself Kate looked down at the water in her hands. Finishing what was left and making her way to her position. Superboy a little way off.

"You good?" The clone asked neutrally, Kate simply nodding in response. Which was enough for the clone as he mirrored the action and jumped.

Kate made her way into the thick of it as KF ran around and Aqualad took on big guy. Superboy keeping Sportsmaster busy while Robin disappeared into the fray.

"Come get me." Kate laughed as multiple men in red cloaks came to circle her. Running two steps forward she jumped, her legs locking around the shoulders of her target. Her body weight and momentum taking him to the ground as she twisted around him. Quickly pulling one of her batons she knocked him unconscious and moved on. Dodging bullets as she grappled off the man and landed behind some crates on a knee, hand in front of her to balance herself.

Climbing over she greeted the first person she saw with her boots to their face. Landing over their unconscious form and going right into another fight. And then another, and another. She couldn't keep this up, if her spinning vision said anything. She couldn't hold back anymore.

The amount of red hooded bastards seemed never ending, and she was out of options. She couldn't see the others through the smoke and the bodies, but she knew where they were if they were following the plan.

"What have you done?!"

Planting her feet, she built up pressure in her throat, and screamed.

Kate heard the planned explosion of the helicopter and looked up with a smirk, seeing someone jump just before the mode of transportation crashed into the factory in a fiery boom. Something Kate had thought she'd only see in action movies. Until her life seemingly became one that is.

The blonde's attention was stolen away by a yell, her blue eyes took in the position Robin was in, Kobra leader's foot on his chest as he struggled to breathe, the blonde freezing in place.

"What are you gonna do huh? You weak little-" The foot on her chest, keeping her down, kept her from breathing. She couldn't breathe. He was so much bigger than her and she couldn't breathe.

Robin got out of the pin the Kobra leader had him in, flipping away and landing in front of the team. Kate snapping out of her memories and planting her feet once again. Ready to make this guy's hearing go bye-bye.

But of course, Walmart Voldemort took the cowards way out and backed up into the jungle behind him, "Another time then." Robin leaped after him as he disappeared between to trees, melting into the shadows in a way that would make Batman jealous.

Kate looked around, now that they were relatively out of danger. The loud fire raging in the factory behind them filling her ears with crackles and pops as thick black smoke rose into the sky.

"Looks like we chose the right guy to lead," Robin said, walking up to Aqualad, "Automatically making you the right guy to explain this mess to Batman!" Robin laughed and Kate couldn't help but chuckle as she passed them.

"Good luck, I'll keep you in my thoughts and prayers." The blonde smirked as the Atlantean gave her a small smile.

~~*~~

STAR CITY

The Arrowcave, Queen Manor

July 23, 03:15 PDT

"Dinah- Ow!" Kate yelped as her mentor all but slapped the bandage on over the freshly stitched bullet wound.

"What happened to recon Kate? Observe and report. That's all you had to do. Yet here you are, down a pint of blood and collecting bullet wounds like the doll maker collects victims." Dinah Lance was a strong, independent woman, and was not to be messed with when she went into what Kate and Oliver had coined 'mom-mode'. It was best to just apologize for whatever you fucked up and hope for the best.

"Things evolved in the field, like they always do. Plus, it didn't help that for the first half of the mission Wally and Robin were bickering like an old married couple about who would be a better leader." Kate rolled her eyes, pulling up the collar of her oversized t-shirt that may or may not have belonged to Oliver at some point.

Hopping off the cold medical table, Kate walked over to her bloody suit.

"You have to be more-"

"Careful, I know." Kate poked a finger through the hole in the shoulder and sighed. "I'm sorry, okay? I'll do better."

"Kate, I didn't mean-" Dinah cut herself off, taking a breath before starting again. "You did well, don't believe for a second you didn't. Most seasoned veterans don't adapt as well in the face of exigent circumstances as you and the team did, especially you." Kate looked to her mentor out of the corner of her eye, still fiddling with her suit shirt. "I'm so proud of you, I would have wanted you to come back without two grazes, and with all your blood in your body, but that doesn't make me any less proud."

Kate dropped her eyes to her uniform, feeling a burning sensation in her eyes that was worse than being shot.

She hadn't known that she had wanted someone to say those words to her, not until she moved in with Dinah and was surrounded by warmth, love, and acceptance. Things she had never truly experienced in her life and were completely foreign to her.

It was overwhelming to the teen, to have people actually care about her, if she was alive or not, if she was eating right, or was feeling okay emotionally. She had always had to be fine, because no one had ever been there to lift her back up when she wasn't, she had to do it on her own.

But she didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve Dinah's... everything.

"I froze." Dinah just looked at the girl, letting her speak in her own time, "Robin was pinned under some Walmart Voldemort's foot and- and I froze." Kate finally admitted, the confession having pent up in her from the second she failed in the field. "I could have helped him... but it was like my legs were stuck in concrete and all I could think of was back in one of my group homes – I couldn't breathe."

"It's okay-"

"How? What would have happened if Robin got hurt? If any of them got hurt and I could have stopped it but... didn't. Because of my own fucked up head."

"Hey." Dinah's voice steeled, "It happens to the best of us, it's even happened to me. We may be heroes but we're not perfect and that's okay. All you can ever do is your best." Dinah wrapped an arm around the teens shoulders gently and just let Kate feel what she needed to feel in that moment.

"I don't want to disappoint you." Kate's voice broke under her stress. Dinah was shocked, her eyes going wide, a slight sting as she took in Kate. Seeing the stress in her sagging shoulders and the worry in her misty eyes and wanting to kick herself.

"You could never disappoint me."

Dinah was almost knocked off her feet when the younger girl turned abruptly and wrapped her arms around her waist, clutching onto the woman tightly.

The older woman, feeling her shoulder dampen, held on just as tightly. Petting the girl's hair that was an exact shade match to her own. Gently cooing to her as Oliver came down the metal stairs, freezing when he saw the scene before him. Not knowing what had happened but joining in on the hug anyway.

The feeling of Oliver's presence was what made Kate break, a quiet sob ripping itself from her throat as her body began to shake, the two adults only held on tighter as if they could put her broken pieces back together, if they just held on tight enough.

Kate slowly calmed down, sniffling quietly against Dinah's shoulder, "Guys? I can't breathe." Oliver and Dinah chuckled and gave the girl some space, her deep blue eyes bloodshot and the tip of her nose was a shade of red that could rival Rudolph's. "I'm sorry about the suit."

"Not a problem, a new one can be made. You though? Irreplaceable." Oliver said wiping away the tears tracks from her cheeks and pinching her chin. Drawing a stuffy chuckle from the girl, a smile coming to her face. "The next one will definitely be a Kevlar tri-polymer, so that this doesn't happen again." Oliver gestured to her shoulder, where the thick white bandage was peeking out of the short sleeve of her shirt.

"Thanks Ollie, Dinah," Kate said quietly, her voice rough, "For everything." Kate felt a lump grow in her throat and if she hadn't of just expelled every last free drop of water in her body, she was sure her eyes would have started to water again.

"No need to thank us. You're family, and we love you." Dinah smiled gently at the girl, her eyes holding an intensity that gave no room for Kate to doubt her words, "Now, come on, I'm sure you're tired, you've had an eventful night." The older woman led Kate to the metal stairs, Oliver trailing behind them as they all entered the Queen Manor.

"Get some rest kiddo, you deserve it." Kate smiled tiredly up at the two adults and started upstairs, stopping at the landing.

"Goodnight, love you."

Oliver and Dinah's eyes went wide, growing to the size of plates. But before they could say anything the teen disappeared down the hallway. The two adults shared a look and Oliver slung an arm over Dinah's shoulder, kissing the side of her head.

"She's going to be okay, she's strong."

"Yeah, she is." Dinah muttered, letting Oliver pull her up the staircase opposite the one Kate had gone up, leading her to their room in a separate wing of the house.

~~*~~

MOUNT JUSTICE

July 25, 13:06 EDT

The day had come, Batman was finally here to give them the bat glare of all bat glares. The team standing side by side as if in a firing line. That's what it felt like to Kate anyway.

"A simple recon mission. Observe and report. You'll each receive a written evaluation detailing your many mistakes. Until then... Good job." Kate, along with the rest of the team did a double take, had Batman just... complimented them? On their shit show of a first mission? Is this real life? "No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy, how you adjust to the unforeseen is what determines success. And how you choose who leads determines character."

The blonde, as well as the rest of the team, stood a little taller, their posture a little prouder.

This whole team thing... might just work out.

~~*~~

[am-i-obsessed---maybe]

Traitor

Luke Castellan x Gender neutral reader

Masterlist

y/n - your name

n/n - nickname

The Hermes cabin was always full, yeah there were other cabins at camp but someone decided that the Hermes cabin would take in all of the unclaimed kids. And of course the gods weren’t huge fans of claiming all of their children once they got to camp so the Hermes cabin was always full. Which is why there were quite a few senior campers in the Hermes cabin, Luke Castellan being one of them. He was an actual son of Hermes and therefore the head counselor but just like the other handful of adult demigods at camp he had his own host of issues. One of which was that he was no longer at camp. Ya he kind of decided to rebel against the gods, he stole Zues’s Master Bolt and is currently trying to revive the old titan Kronos.

 And in all honesty you couldn’t blame him, he was scared, and angry and what else exactly can you do to show a god you were angry at them? Nobody in the Hermes cabin talks about Luke anymore, especially around the older campers, the ones who were very close to him. It’s been a year since he left camp. But what could you do? You still looked up to Luke. He greeted you at camp, he was one of your closest friends and he always had your back. So you missed him, a lot. You still couldn’t do what he asked you to do though. You couldn’t just leave, did you consider it? Maybe, but you couldn’t just turn your back on camp, you loved your demi-family. But what if Luke’s right? What if the best way to protect them was to protect them from the gods?-

“y/n? Y/N!” 

“Huh? Uh yeah!” you squeaked. Travis, your maybe half brother was waving his hand in front of you, trying to get your attention. 

“You good?” He asked. 

“Ya, I’m fine, just thinking…”

“You shouldn’t do that too much, it messes with your brain” 

“You mean think?” you asked, wondering if he was serious or if this was just another joke.

“Ya! It messes with your sense of humor!” stated the brunette. 

“Sure Travis” you told the son of Hermes as you rose from your seat around the Hermes table at the dining pavilion. Oh did I mention that? Because basically everything at camp revolves around the gods, there is no way to escape your godly (or more like lack of a godly) parent. 

“I’ll be on the hill if you need me for my lack of a sense of humor” you told the trickster as you left the dining pavilion. 

Of course in Camp Half-Blood slang, going to the “hill” meant you were going to visit Thalia’s tree on Half Blood Hill. The poor girl was turned into a Pine tree by her father Zues after she died while trying to get to camp. You had never actually met Thalia but Like told you about her, turns out they were really close. 

The only other people who knew Thalia are Annabeth Chase and Grover Underwood but they were currently a bit busy trying to save the world with the newbie hero son of Poseidon.

As you reached Thalia’s tree you took a seat near her roots and looked out at camp. 

“You know Thalia I have a feeling having you here would make this decision a lot easier. You knew Luke better than anybody didn’t you?” 

You always had a connection to the dead which technically included Thalia, they’re just so much easier to talk to than the living.

“What if I did go with him, they deserve it anyway-”

“I’m glad you think that n/n” said a deep voice from behind you.

Turning around you almost screamed in a mix of surprise and fear.

“Luke! What are you doing here?!” You asked the blonde as you got up and hugged him.

“You’re not supposed to be here, do you know what Mr. D would do if someone caught you?” you immediately told him as you looked into his icy blue eyes. 

“Are you going to tell anyone?” He asked.

“Well-” You paused. 

Ya, you should. You should have tried to fight him, he was your enemy after all but you couldn’t bring yourself to even say anything. 

“Please y/n, come with me. Imagine us, destroying olympus, getting the revenge we’ve always wanted-”

“You’ve always wanted.” You corrected. 

“I miss you Luke, the Hermes cabin isn’t the same without you but I, I can’t hurt their hearts. They need me.”

“They need you to protect them from the gods, we’ll make the world a better place for them!” He explained, trying to convince you.

“I, I know you have to do this so I’m not gonna stop you but I can’t join you. Not today.” You told him as you looked at his scar. A scar he got while on a quest for the gods.

“I love you Luke, good luck” You said as you kissed his cheek and turned your back to him, walking back down Half-Blood hill towards camp.

...

You hadn’t seen Luke since he showed up at camp last summer. Currently it was December and you had two more important things to worry about that last summer’s surprise visitor. 

The first of which was named Nico Di Angelo. The new unclaimed kid that arrived at camp with Percy Jackson, Grover Underwood and the Hunters Of Artemis in Apollo’s sun school bus (Ya it was a weird day). His older sister joined the hunters and left on a quest the day after they all arrived at camp, leaving the poor kid on his own in the Hermes cabin. 

The second problem was the weird dreams that you’d been having recently. A lot of raising the dead in the light of the moon and a woman covered in mist trying to reach out to you. But at the moment you had to make sure that Nico was alright. It was only his second day at camp and you wanted to make him feel welcomed. 

“Hey Nico, how are you!” you asked the young boy who was looking through a deck of cards that seemed to interest him more than his breakfast. 

“I’m okay” He responded, not seeming too happy or angry or sad.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked the young demigod.

“Ya, but Conner snores” He commented, finally putting down his cards.

“He does that sometimes” You said, chuckling lightly. 

“Hey if you’re in the Hermes cabin does that mean that he’s your dad?” the young boy asked innocently. 

“Oh no, I’m like you. My godly parent hasn’t claimed me yet” You explained taking a bite out of your breakfast. 

“So, I might never get claimed?” He asked and the look on his face was almost pitiful as his eyes looked for any shred of hope. 

“Don’t worry, most demigods get claimed. I’m sure you’ll find out who your godly parent is soon enough” You told him, putting your hand on his shoulder in an attempt to reassure the young boy.  

“Then why haven’t you been claimed yet?” He asked.

“Well it’s probably because I don’t really go on quests so there’s no need to claim me but I know you’re going to be a great warrior.” you told him but you knew it was false. Quests have nothing to do with being claimed but you couldn’t tell Nico that. It would break his heart. 

“I have an idea, why don't we go get you a weapon after breakfast. Then you would have something to do during your free time” You suggested, Nico might have been a bit young for a weapon of his own but it was important to give him something to distract from his sister’s quest.

“Cool! Do you think I can get a sword like Percy's?” The boy asked.

“I’m sure we could find you something,” you told him, trying to keep the mood light but your mind was starting to drift off again. 

All you could think of was that woman. She was covered in mist but you could make out her long flowing hair and a torch she held in her hand. If you remembered correctly she also had a large dog standing regally beside her. You wondered who she was, was she a goddess wanting to send you on a quest? Or maybe just a figment of your imagination? A distant memory of your mother perhaps? Either way you had to figure out what she wanted from you. 

Once breakfast was over you headed with Nico to the weapons shed to find him a big magic sword, per his request. Unfortunately you had a feeling he could barely hold a normal sized sword let alone a big heavy magical one so you ended up giving him the smallest sword you could find. It wasn’t a dagger but it was shorter than other swords and even that was a bit heavy for the young demigod as he slightly dragged it to the arena. 

You suggested starting to learn the basic forms using a wooden sword but Nico was too excited so carefully he raised his swords and you began to explain where his feet need to be and why. 

After a few hours of training Nico had some of the basics down and was practicing a basic thrust and peri motion when you suddenly felt a tingle in your neck, you thought it was just the cold but slowly it began to get misty and you saw the form of the woman from your dreams appear.

“Come to the woods at dusk” She said, but Nico didn’t even flinch at her ominous voice. Could he not hear her? 

“I shall help you choose which way to cross” Continued the woman as she and her fog began to disappear. 

...

The conch horn blew signalling its time for dinner but you headed towards the woods opposite of the dining pavilion. It was dusk and the woman had told you to meet her in the woods so you did. Was it possibly dangerous? Yes. Was it stupid to go withput telling anyone? Also yes, but this was your mystery to solve and wouldn’t risk possibly endangering the other campers. 

As you walked through the woods you wondered where exactly you should be going to meet this mystery woman but as you went deeper into the woods more fog surrounded you and you assumed that it was at least somehow connected to the woman with the torch. 

As you kept walking you found yourself in a small circular clearing with three paths out all leading in different directions. 

In the middle of the clearing was the woman, only now you saw her clearly. 

She was pale and slender, wearing a red tunic with a torch in one hand, sword in the other, a dog standing loyally by her side. 

“Who are you?” You asked, keeping a safe distance away from her.

“I am Hecate, goddess of crossroad and the mist.” Answered the woman.

“And I am here to help you, my child, understand the new crossroad you have found yourself at.” She continued and you weren’t sure how to react. You knew a little about Hecate but from what you knew she wasn’t one of the 12 Olympians. She was a minor goddess responsible for making sure the mist hid the secrets of the mythical world from mortals. But other than that you didn’t know much about her, the only myth you heard about her was that she helped light Demeter’s way after Hades kidnapped Persephone. 

“Why now?” You asked, anger slightly dripping from your voice. “Why would you tell me this now? And what crossroad are you talking about?” 

“You are facing an important decision y/n, do you stay at camp and help your friends fight the son of Hermes or do you join him and betray your friends and the gods who give you your safety? I understand it is a difficult choice” 

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING! I’m sorry. But you could never understand. I have to choose who to betray and no matter what I do I’ll be hurting someone I love” You explained as a tear slid down your cheek. 

“I love Luke, and I want to help him, I want to hurt the gods who caused us so much pain. I really do but that would mean stabbing my family in the back. I would never be able to come back here if I did that.” 

“Sweet child, it sounds like you have already made up your mind then,” Hecate said, putting her sword and torch down. “Join Luke, wreak chaos on mount olympus and show them that you cannot be ignored any longer.” The goddess said, bringing you into her warm embrace.

“I shall show you the ways of magic and you shall show the olympians your true power. After all, without the gods your family here would welcome you back with open arms."

[winged-deity]

I really wanted to make a request for part two of the reader children learning to curse with bad, but if the requests are not open just ignore this ask

Thank you so much for the request, and apologies for the wait.

Parental DSMP!members reacting to child reader swearing

Heard it from uncle Bad pt. 2

warnings: !swearing!, !mention of blood!, !slight mention of injury!, !brief mention of cults!, !implied emotional manipulation!, !mention of death!

Georgenotfound

You and George were walking around kinoko kingdom, it had recently become a daily activity for you two to take a stroll together.

The afternoon stroll was a good excuse for you to be able to drag your father from his ridiculously long naps, that seemed to last centuries.

You were pulling him along, as you pointed at different buildings and questioning their use in the kingdom.

As you neared the edge if the nearby forest, you were startled and stumbled back by a fox.

You had at that point let go of your Dads hand, and as you fell on your butt on the stone path, you let out a shrieked "fuck!" which woke your drowzy father up, to say the least.

George was quickly by your side and helping you up, but immediately after making sure you weren't hurt his eyes narrowed "who taught you that word?" he looked down at you with that disappointed parent stare.

Though you didn't even know the meaning behind the curse word you just shouted, so your fathers sudden anger confused you as you tilted your head "Uncle bad?" you mumbled back with an unsure look.

George was throughly taken aback by your response as he picked you up "are you sure?" he lifted his brow, doubting his child's words.

Which to you responded "yeah? I heard him say it when he got hurt while we were on a walk" he blinked quietly for a moment, before bursting to laughter while you stared back, confused.

George thought this was absolutely hilarious so he decided to not confront Bad about it, though he did give you a short lecture and why you shouldn't repeat words you didnt know.

Wilbur Soot

-L'manbur

You were playing around with your twin brother Fundy, you two had started a rather violent game of tag and at some point Fundy had thrown a rock at you which caused you to yell out at him "Fundy you bitch!"

Fundy didnt know the meaning of the word, but seemed offended nonetheless. You were left rubbing your quickly bruising eye, as your twin ran over to tell your father what happened.

Quickly, Wilbur had ran over and looked you sternly in the eyes "did Tommy teach you that?" you were about to correct him, when you suddenly thought how much funnier it would've been to get Tommy in trouble.

You pulled your twin aside as you two watched your father march over to Tommy, you had snickered evily while you told Fundy the truth about the situation. Which you both found hilarious.

-Vilbur/Villainbur (pogtopia)

You were unsurprisingly dragged to pogtopia with your father when he and Tommy were exiled by your new president Jschlatt.

Even during your fathers insanity, he did care about you enough to bring you along (what a shame for Fundy who was left with Schlatt without a second thought)

You were sitting in the eerie and disgusting ravine, sharpening the sword Tommy had given you incase you were ever attacked.

While deep in thought, you had accidentally cut your hand on the blade, which caused you to let out a string of curses.

Your father wasn't far and heard this immediately, stomping over and grabbing your wrist "who the fuck taught you to talk like that? Think of what your mother would say!"

You pulled away from him in no-time, walking away from him to clean up your aggressively bleeding palm "think about it genius" you had joked back at him sarcastically, as he snarled in your direction.

-Ghostbur

You were under enough pressure after losing your father, especially infront of your own eyes and by the hands of your own grandpa. Now your supposed to move on, while also seeing his ghostly apparition floating around like he didnt blow up the place you grew up in?

You were seated next to your fathers..real fathers grave in L'manburg, or what was left of it as of now. You liked spending your days there, thinking about him when he was actually a good parent, and leader.

You were quickly startled into reality when an all too familiar ghostly figure floated infront of you, Wil-- no, Ghostbur had a huge smile on his face as he looked at you.

He quickly sat down next to you "your my other kid!" he exclaimed loudly, which in response to you hissed "fucking hell..can't you see im kind of busy?.."

This caused the ghost to let out a comically loud gasp as he grabbed your hands "hey! Alivebur wasn't the best person, but he must have taught you better than to curse!"

The ghosts surprisingly warm hands, wrapped around yours, brought you a sense of comfort as you finally broke down.

Everything that had happened in the last few months, it was just too much. And you were pleasantly suprised to feel the ghost of your father wrap his arms around you in a comforting matter.

-Revivebur

You had missed your father for sure, but upon meeting his now revived form. You quickly recognized that the feeling wasn't mutual.

The man you once loved and called your father, payed no attention to you as you were stood my Phil's side.

His overly excited attitude, and huge smile while he chattered away seriously pissed you off "you're a shit father." you had growled out at him, which seemed to finally get his attention.

His smile quickly faded, "now now, my dear child, my dear y/n. Who taught you such language" his sudden act of affection angered you even further.

"oh- the fucking egg cultists did, cause while you decided to leave me and Fundy and just die, someone had to take care of us" you had already turned, and started walking away before he even had the chance to respond.

For some reason, people seemed to like the first part. So if you'd like a 3rd part to this, I will happily write it.

Request what characters i should do for the next part.

-Deity🕊️

[sundaysundaes]

Revival

Jung Jaehyun X Reader feat. Haechan | Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmate AU | NC-17 | 15k

Summary: When fate brought Jung Jaehyun to you, it didn’t feel like your first time meeting him. And with him, smiling at you like his heart shattering to pieces, eyes painted with longing, you knew you were connected to him somehow. You just have to find the answers before it’s too late.

Warnings: sex scenes (both with Jaehyun and Haechan), mentions of death and suicide 

For my lovely cinnamon bun Esme @rainydayswithnct​ I couldn’t think of anything else to give you but this. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, I hope this will make you happy ❤️

His eyes… They remind you of the ocean after the storm. 

It’s not the color as his are dark brown, like the freshly turned earth after rain. It’s the feeling, the way they glimmer under the soft evening light, calm and steady, but in a way, emits sadness, yearning for something. As if he had been crushed, trapped inside a hurricane for so long, he was about to fade into the void. And as he peered into your eyes, full of depths and secrets you long to unveil, something tugs upon your heartstring. 

It’s not love at a first sight. You’ve experienced that before with Lee Donghyuck, the lover whom you share frantic kisses and desperate touches with. But it’s something more intense, something you can’t even begin to fathom, something you wish you understand.

The second your eyes are locked to each other, it’s like you’re electrocuted, starting from the tip of your hair down to your toes.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, your voice sounds like you haven’t spoken in years. A tiny red spot begins to form on his chin from where it made contact with your head earlier. “I was looking for a book so I wasn’t—I didn’t see you there.”

The man, young enough to be around your age with a gaze wiser than most, has an expression of a heartbroken man. There’s pain that fleets through his eyes, a feeling that he quickly hides with a smile too bright to be genuinely coming from the heart. When he speaks, his voice is both rich and soft, deep and tender. “No, it was my fault.” He shakes his head. “Please don’t apologize.”

You want to reach out to him, want to know why he looks like he’s seconds away from breaking apart, want to ask him whether you’ve said too much or too less. But he’s nothing but a stranger and you don’t want to step out of the line. “Were you looking for a book?”

“Yes, umm…” He points his finger towards a book hidden in the shelf behind you. “That one.”

You follow his direction, smiling when you read the title written on its spine. “No wonder we bumped heads. I was aiming for the same book.”

“Oh, then it’s fine,” he says, pushing the book back to you after you handed it to him. “You can take it.”

“No, please, go ahead. I’ve read this too many times already.”

“Me too. So—”

“I insist.” You press the book to his chest, looking up at him. He looms before you, standing 180 centimeters tall that you have to tilt your head up to match his line of vision. You catch a sniff of his scent, the smell of soap and aftershave, thinly layered by cologne. His eyelashes are long, face framed by strong jawlines, brunette locks falling over his forehead. When his lips curve up, pretty dimples start to form in his cheeks. He looks like a painting, a thought runs through your mind, one that you hastily dismiss. “Take it as a form of my apology for bruising your chin,” you add.

His eyes widen, just for a split second before a soft chuckle reverberates from his chest. When he speaks again, it’s almost like a whisper—like a secret never meant to be told, “I can never win against you.”

You barely catch his words. “Sorry, what?”

“Nothing.” He clears his throat, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. “I’m… I was about to borrow this and grab some coffee. Would you care to join me? I’d love to talk more.” His body language indicates that he’s nervous which you find rather endearing. “I mean, It’s hard to find someone who has a similar taste like mine.”

Your heart convulses. You know how grabbing some coffee together tends to lead to something more. Your boyfriend’s name pops in your head but your lips betray you before your brain can form a warning. “Well, I do have a peculiar taste when it comes to books,” you answer with a smile. “Sure, as long as you tell me your name.”

“Right, sorry.” You love the sound he makes when he chuckles, and you love it more when it echoes louder in your ears. He offers his hand, stretching out his lean fingers. “I’m Jaehyun.”

You expect it to be soft just like the way he’s gazing at you, but his palm feels calloused against your own. When you reply to him with your name, he seems stunned but doesn’t stay still for long. Your name flows out of his mouth so naturally, as if he has been calling you for years, like a soulmate to another. It feels like electricity is running through your veins once more, something that you’ve never experienced before.

It takes around ten minutes to walk from the library to the nearest coffee shop and by then, you’ve caught on the little gestures he makes: the way he forces himself to laugh a little when he notices he’s being too straightforward; the way he clears his throat when he feels like his words have more hidden meanings than they let on. You’ve become aware of his passion and the love he has for books, so strong that it can only be matched by your own. You’ve learned about his dream, a novelist in the making, taking his first baby steps to turn it into reality.

“Have you thought about what kind of story you’re planning to write?” You question as you slide your cup closer with hot, black coffee shimmering inside. Before you take a sip, Jaehyun drags a sugar bowl toward your direction. “What?”

“It’s too bitter for you.”

“You think I can’t handle my coffee?”

“It’s not that.” He clears his throat and you wonder what is it that he’s trying to hide. “The coffees here are always too bitter.”

“Yeah?” You taunt him, smirking. “Well, watch me.” You take a sip, about to wince when the bitter taste hits your tongue but you act unfazed. Smacking your lips, you say, “See? I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“No. Give me the damn sugar.” 

It doesn’t take long before Jaehyun’s little laughter becomes one of your most favorite sounds in the world. 

“I’m planning to write a romance novel,” he responds to your earlier question.

“Romance, huh? To be honest, I see you more as someone who writes detective stories. Never would’ve pegged you as a romantic.”

“Well, it’s supposed to be more than just a romance story. It has a supernatural element to it. Borderline fantasy.”

“Like what?”

He takes a few seconds before he responds quietly with a secretive smile. “I guess you’ll just have to read to find out.”

“Cheapskate.” You purse your lips. “Is it going to have a happy ending?”

“Well, they’ll be separated by death in the end.”

“No,” you drawl out. “What happens to them? You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me about it.”

“Of course, I can.” There’s a tiny smirk creeping up his lips. “I’m the author.”

“And a jerk too, apparently.” You’re worried you might go too far with your joke but Jaehyun still peers at you with that warm, longing eyes that make you curl your toes.

“Fine, then,” he succumbs. “Since you insist, I’ll give you a hint later. But you’ll have to imagine the rest.”

“Then tell you about it? What if you steal my idea?” You raise an eyebrow, teasing him. “I happen to have a very creative imagination.”

“I promise you I won’t. I’ve finished writing my version of it. I’ll let you see it after you tell me yours.”

“Huh, interesting.” You pretend like you’re rethinking your decision, just to get him a little bit hopeful and nervous by it. “Deal, why not.” Your coffee has grown slightly cold but the sugary taste of it serves as an addiction. “So, does that mean we’ll see each other again?”

“Well, I do have to go back to the library to return the book. So, hopefully, yes.” You both exchange stares, sharing sheepish smiles with you breaking away first, bringing your focus back to your coffee. “I’ve never seen you in the library before,” Jaehyun questions, “Is today your first time visiting?”

“No. I’ve been visiting it almost every day for the last… two weeks, I think? It’s near my workplace so I usually drop by after work to read for an hour or two. My apartment is pretty small so it feels a bit cramped. That’s why I enjoy spending more time outside.” You swirl your spoon, watching the little whirlpool you create inside your cup. “Besides, I can’t read at home.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s…” You awkwardly laugh, waving one hand in the air. “I have a boyfriend who is younger than me and he’s a pretty lively person. It’s hard to focus on your book when someone keeps pulling you into conversations.”

Jaehyun’s fingers stop tapping against the surface of the coffee table but it’s too fast for you to notice before he starts again. “Isn’t it better to have someone like that rather than to be alone, though?” He counters, the smile on his lips never falter but the one in his eyes does.

“I…” It’s not apparent but you can sense it, the painful look on his face. It feels like you just said something that hurt him so badly that you want to apologize about it. “Yeah… I guess so…”

Maybe he notices you noticing, which is why he tries to mask his feelings better with a wider smile that does reach his eyes this time. “Why do you choose this library?” He diverts the topic. “There are a lot of new ones in town, bigger ones too. This place is pretty old and dusty.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You nod, sighing. “Okay, don’t laugh, but honestly? It just feels somewhat nostalgic to me. The first time I stepped inside, it felt like I’d been spending all my life there—just sitting on that old couch, reading books, enjoying the silence. It just feels familiar, even more comforting than being in my room. It’s weird but I can only feel at ease when I read there.” Jaehyun stays quiet that you have to lift your head to understand what goes through his head. His face is pensive, undecipherable. “What about you? What’s your reason, Jaehyun?”

He stops breathing at the sound of his name escaping your mouth, his shoulders tense, and only after what feels like hours, he finally has the strength to drag his eyes away from yours, bringing them down to see his interlaced fingers lying on the table. 

“It’s just closer to my place.”

***

“Hey, babe.” Donghyuck chirps with a lollipop stuck in his mouth, his fingers running through the keyboards, eyes locked to his computer screen. He can tell that it’s you who just slipped through the front door by the sound of your footsteps. “You’re late. Did you get the puddings I asked you?”

“They’re in the fridge.” You take off your coat and unwrap your scarf from your neck before you stroll toward the living room. You can’t remember what or who initiated it but it has been almost six months since he started living in your apartment. You remember how he used to spend just one night at your place on the weekend, then two when he felt a bit needy for your touch. Before you knew it, his personal belongings were scattered all over the place—his hoodie on the couch, his towel on the bed, his toothbrush on your sink—and he could be spending the entire week at your place, only moving once to his apartment when he ran out of comic books to read. It just came so naturally that you didn’t notice at first but by the time you did, it was too late to even bring the topic to the table.

Being with Donghyuck was easy, casual, and he gave you more reasons to laugh over little things more than anyone else. During the first two months, you acted like newlyweds with him peppering kisses on your face whenever you arrived home from work. Unlike you, Donghyuck is a freelancer and he does most of his work at home. He used to be considerate enough to do some chores for you—cooking, cleaning the bathroom, sometimes even doing your laundry when he felt he’d been neglecting you. Whenever you arrived late, he would’ve always had something prepared for you, beaming at you with a contagious grin while chiming, “Finally, you’re here! I’ve been waiting for you and I’m starving. Today’s dish is your favorite so let’s eat!”

But things are bound to change and happiness doesn’t last forever. It started slow, almost unnoticeable, with him forgetting to kiss you good night before bed and you treating the fact that he no longer paid attention to what you were wearing as normal. Nowadays, he doesn’t have enough affection to greet you with his smile—one that used to shine brighter than the sun. Comforting hugs and welcome kisses are long forgotten.

It’s lonely, but it’s fine. He’s still here. Donghyuck is still yours as much as you are his.

It’s fine.

“I met someone today,” you say, reaching out to stroke his dark hair. It’s so soft and fluffy like a dog’s fur and you find it calming just to card your fingers through them. The feelings are the same, only his reaction isn’t. He used to lean into your touch as a kitten would. Now, he doesn’t even spare you a glance. 

“A man?”

“Yep.”

“Is he hot?”

“Well, he’s not ugly.”

“Then don’t get too close to him.”

Donghyuck is the jealous type, he’s always been—sometimes even a bit possessive but it makes you happy to know there’s someone out there who cares about you so much he doesn’t want to share you with anyone else. But not today. Today, his words feel empty. You can tell that he doesn’t mean any of them. He just says them as a joke, maybe out of habit, but certainly not a warning.

“What will we be having for dinner?” You ask him when he’s busy shouting foul words to his screen as his character just got shot dead.

“Jesus—left, you moron!” He groans loudly in to the air before he turns around, finally recognizing your presence. “What? Oh.” He pops the lollipop out of his mouth. “I just had some take-outs.”

“You didn’t wait for me?”

“I was dead hungry, but I ordered some for you too. It’s probably cold now but you can heat it up.”

“Can you do that for me, please? I love it when you add more seasonings to it.”

“I’d love to do that but,” he smiles apologetically, his fingers meeting the keyboards once more. “I’m busy, babe. There’s an event going on and Jeno literally won’t let me take a break. Look, I’ll cook for you tomorrow, I promise.”

You have stopped believing in his promises, or at least, don’t allow yourself to believe. You’ve learned that the best way to avoid disappointment is to not expect anything.

You smile back, push his hair away so you can land a kiss on his temple. And no matter how much your bottled-up feelings are about to burst, you don’t say a word.

Because you know silence is what keeps your relationship alive.

***

That night, Jaehyun appeared in your dream.

He had a different hairstyle, a little bit shorter, color’s a shade darker. He was dressed in an old-fashioned way—a white buttoned-up shirt under a brown blazer that was a couple of sizes bigger than it was supposed to. Nevertheless, he looked just as strikingly handsome as he was in real life.

He took off his fedora hat, bowing when his eyes met yours as he entered the library—the one that you always visit. “You look beautiful today,” he said, smiling like he always has from the first time you saw him but it felt different in the dream. His smile was timid and shy, eyes never stayed long enough to be locked with yours, but they were honest. The way they shimmered in adoration at the sight of you, painted with both desire and affection.

Your body went autopilot, words flowing from your mouth before you could even process the situation. It was like you were residing in someone else’s body, just a bystander. “Are you saying I didn’t look beautiful yesterday?”

“No, that’s not—” At the sight of you covering your smile behind your hand, he sighed, pressing his hat to his chest. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m sorry. Which book would you like to read today?”

“Will you choose one for me?”

“Unfortunately, I have a peculiar taste when it comes to books—”

“I trust you.” He smiled a tad wider, perfect teeth peeking behind soft red lips, and you could feel your lips curving to mirror his. 

“Well then,” you said, reaching toward a bookshelf. “Why don’t we start with this?”

It ended without you knowing what book it was nor the line between your dream and reality. They stand out so vividly—the scenery, his expressions, the lines you’d exchanged with him—that it takes you a few good minutes to realize that it was just a dream and not a memory.

You couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

***

The library is indeed old, with walls standing in dire need to be repainted. But the faint smell of sandalwood combined with the orange tint of sunlight sneaking through the windows is comforting. Crowds don’t gather much around here—maybe four or five people at most—and you’re consoled by the tranquility. There’s only a soft thrum of acoustic guitar playing through the speakers that keep you company.

And Jaehyun.

You meet him every day when the sun is an hour away from setting. You don’t chat for long, spending most of your hour reading your chosen book for the day while stealing glances at him scribbling stuff down on his notebook.

“Why don’t you use a laptop?”

“Not fond of it. I feel more like a writer this way,” Jaehyun responds, re-reading the words he just wrote on paper. When he notices you’re giggling, he frowns. “What?”

“You’re like my dad.”

“Then I’m sure your dad is a very smart, tech-savvy man.”

“I’m saying you have an old soul, the way you prefer to do stuff more traditionally.” You sink further into your chair, opening a new page, eyes scanning the lines but not reading them. “Well, I guess that makes the two of us since I already have the e-book version of this on my iPad and I’m still here reading it in a library. How’s your story going?”

“Pretty well. I just came up with a really annoying character.” His smile is a bit different this time, somewhat mischievous. “Inspired by someone.”

“You’re not talking about me, are you?”

Jaehyun drags his pen over his note. “Character A begins to question her—”

“Shut up!”

The more time you spend with him, the more you feel like he’s becoming a mystery you can’t solve. You’re closer to him, closer than any of your friends, but you know there are secrets he tries to bury underneath those tender smiles. To you, Jaehyun, with his eyes that always seem like they’re telling a different story—one that nearly drives him to the brink of tears, still seems like an incomplete puzzle. And if time allows you, you’d gladly collect every piece of him to be able to perceive him better.

***

Jaehyun visited you in another dream.

This time, you were walking next to him beside a beautiful pond in a backyard that seemed familiar enough to be your own. Both of you were dressed in traditional clothing and you wondered whether a ceremony just occurred.

“Are you nervous?” He asked, holding your hand.

“I don’t know, maybe,” you heard yourself mumble, body moving beyond your control. “I just feel like we’re moving too fast. We just turned twenty.”

“Are you having doubts?” He intertwined your fingers better and you noticed how his were shaking slightly. “About me?”

“Of course not.” You turned around, reaching up to caress his cheek, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. “Jaehyun, this is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. I want to be with you, there’s no doubt about it. I’m just thinking about our future, that’s all. What will we do with our jobs? Our money? What will we do when we have kids—”

“It’s just like you to overthink about stuff,” he tittered, “We’ll cross the bridge when we get there.”

That earned him a pout. “I’m not overthinking about stuff. I’m planning them.”

“Of course, my bad.” He kissed your inner palm once before he let you frame his face again, his hand pressing against the back of your smaller one. “Thank you.”

You frowned. “For what?”

“For everything. For caring, for worrying.” Jaehyun smiled so gently, it was almost heartbreaking. “For being with me. Perhaps it’s immature for me to say this, but whatever future that lies ahead of us, I’m sure it’s filled with nothing but joy as long as we’re together.”

“That is such an embarrassing line to say.” You giggled and the blush that bloomed on his face was instant and striking but before he could say a word, you pulled him into your embrace, resting your cheek against his chest. “As long as we’re together, huh?” You repeated quietly. “Then will you promise you’ll stay with me forever?”

“I promise.” Jaehyun’s smile was pressing against your hairline. “Not even death can separate us.”

You wake up with a cold sweat, your heart thrumming so loudly, it makes you feel nauseous. Donghyuck shifts around in bed at the sound of you gasping for air, sleepily asking what’s wrong as he rubs his eyes.

“I’m fine,” you tremulously utter, a hand on your chest as if it could do something to steady your racing heart. “Go back to sleep.”

Donghyuck sends you another look with eyes barely opened. “Come here.” He tugs you closer to his chest, his nose grazing the crook of your neck. “It’s just a nightmare,” he murmurs drowsily against your skin, and in a matter of seconds, he drifts back to sleep.

“Yeah…” You swallow your breath, Jaehyun’s name resting on the tip of your tongue. “Just a nightmare…”

One that feels too real.

***

Weeks turn into months, and what started as curiosity becomes affection. 

Reading books has turned into nothing but an excuse for both of you to spend time together. What started as stealing secret glances at each other has morphed into an exchange of secret whispers in a secluded corner. The questions have become more personal too, and you find yourself talking about childhood memories and nonsensical ideas that show up in your thoughts, even the ones you have never shared with anyone else, not even to Donghyuck who lends his arm for you at night.

It’s only the dreams that you keep quiet about, as they always revolve around him since the first day you met Jaehyun. You’re not sure why, maybe it’s a way of your subconscious trying to tell you that you have feelings for him—feelings that aren’t meant to be shared with friends—as the dreams tend to play romantically. And you can’t deny that you do feel something about him.

It’s hard not to feel anything when Jaehyun has given you everything you’ve ever asked from a person. From a friend. From a lover.

But it’s not love. Definitely not love. At least not in the way you know of. In your mind, love is in the form of hugs you share with Donghyuck, not in the way Jaehyun lands his eyes on yours. Love is—

Your head swirls. What is love?

The concept of love is so complex that even if you know about it, you’re not sure if you understand it enough to experience it. You have never talked about love, not with your boyfriend, not with yourself. Is it something that you’ve already felt once? Are you in love with Donghyuck—the man you’ve spent the last two years together?

What does he think of me? You start to lose focus, sinking into your thoughts and the soft music playing in the background feels like a lullaby. Does Hyuck love me?

Before long, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. You fall asleep with your arms folded on the table, cheek pressing against them.

You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming of a hand, so warm and tender as it brushes stray hairs from your temple. You’re dreaming of a voice, so familiar to your ears, so quiet and heartbroken as it resonates in whispers. You’re dreaming of a pair of lips, so soft and light as they press against your strands.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember me. It’s okay, so please…” Slender fingers curl around your wrist, bringing it to frame a face with skin as soft as porcelain. “Just come back to me…”

You wake up. 

Jaehyun is sitting on the other side of the table, pen tapping against his lips as he reads back his work, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He notices the little shift in your movement, immediately beaming at you with his signature smile. “Hey there, Sleepyhead.”

You rub your eyes before sitting straight on your seat, your hair’s astray. “What—How did I—” A coat is slipping through your shoulders and you catch it before it meets the ground. It’s Jaehyun’s. “Umm—t-thanks,” you mumble, handing it back to him.

“Sure,” he responds. “You were shivering so…”

“Oh… Right.” You certainly don’t feel cold now especially when your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “W-what time is it?”

“Around eight. The place’s about to close.” Jaehyun takes a sip of his drink, grinning at your behavior. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve. My boyfriend's gonna interrogate me for this.” You sigh, trying to gather back every bit of your strength and dignity. “Why are you still here?”

He raises an eyebrow at that, acting offended. “You don’t actually think that I’m the type of guy who leaves pretty girls sleeping defenselessly in public, do you?”

The word ‘pretty’ comes so effortlessly from his mouth that you’re sure he doesn’t mean it to mean something more. “There’s literally no one else around here but the staff besides us.”

“Which should be the more reason why I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You scoff, shaking your head in amusement. “Yes, yes, how chivalrous of you. Thank you, oh my mighty prince. How can I return the favor?”

“By coming here again tomorrow?”

The way his eyes shine with excitement at the thought of seeing you again makes your heart flutter. “I don’t think you need to ask,” you grin.

***

Jaehyun knows you. He knows you too well. But it’s not the things that can be seen, it’s the things that you can only know by spending time together. Jaehyun knows the type of music you listen to, knows that whenever it gets too cold, you’ll start craving a cup of hot chocolate. 

It’s strange, the fact that Jaehyun, a stranger you just befriended, pays attention with all his heart, even at the words that accidentally slipped off your tongue as if you’re the only person who matters in the world, while Donghyuck, your boyfriend, barely bats an eyelash when you share an important aspect of your life. It feels strange at first, but now, it sickens you.

“What’s this?” You ask, examining a CD case he just hands over. “Are you giving me a mix-tape?” It doesn’t have a cover, just a note painted with the words: When we die, we will turn into songs, and we will hear each other and remember each other. You have your eyebrow raised. “A quote by Rob Sheffield?”

“It’s a hint for my story. As promised.” He takes a seat in front of you. “Have you worked on it?”

“When you’re only giving me this quote as a hint and nothing more, it’s kinda hard to come up with something tragic for the ending.”

“I thought you had a very creative imagination.”

You throw a playful glare and he titters a little bit in response. “Is there any other reason why you’re giving me this?”

“Just something to keep you company.” He smiles. He always smiles, but more with his eyes than his lips. Then he slides down another thing—a book this time—wrapped with a red ribbon. “As you read this.”

It’s an old book written by your favorite author, one that you haven’t been able to read because it’s so rare to find. “How do you—” You’re lost for words. You have never told him about this. You’ve mentioned your favorite books but none from this author as it is something personal that you prefer to keep to yourself, not wanting others to judge you for your distinctive taste.

“It’s written by my favorite author,” he elaborates, “I just thought you’d like it too since we have similar taste.”

There’s something he’s not telling you, you can sense that. But if he’s not ready to provide the words, you won’t take them away by force.

“Thank you.” You hug the book to your chest. Somehow, the air feels like spring, like cherry blossoms blooming for the first time after being frozen for so long. “I’ll cherish this.”

“It’s just a book, don’t be dramatic,” he chuckles but happiness is written all over his face, mirroring yours. Jaehyun’s eyes soften and he appears so fragile, like a porcelain doll. So beautiful and vulnerable.

The songs he has compiled for you seem like they’re taken straight out of your playlist. Even for the songs you’ve never listened to before, they click right in. You’re so caught by the moment, drowned deep in the lyrics and the music that resonates from your speakers, that you don’t hear the sounds of your boyfriend stepping into the room.

“I thought I heard noises. What are you listening to?” Donghyuck asks, leaning over your shoulder to peek at the empty CD case you’ve been holding on your lap.

“A friend gave me,” you answer. You notice the way his eyes dart to the handwritten note and it makes you nervous as if you’re doing something wrong behind his back, something forbidden.

“What a thoughtful friend,” he comments nonchalantly, albeit a little bit cold. You mask your anxiety with a chuckle. “Maybe you can tell your friend that there’s this thing called Spotify nowadays. Literally no one listens to CDs anymore.”

Your tongue lays heavy in your mouth, and maybe it’s better to leave things the way it is but you can’t stop yourself from bitterly saying, “I happen to like listening to CDs. It makes me feel nostalgic.”

“You and your nostalgia.” Donghyuck snorts, completely missed the annoyed tone in your voice. He places a peck on the top of your head. “Well, I’m hungry. What do you want to have for dinner? I’ll cook."

“There’s a new Chinese restaurant opening just a block away,” Jaehyun said on a Sunday evening when you two were about to part ways. “They got amazing reviews. Do you have some time to spare? I know how much you love Chinese food.”

“I never told you I loved Chinese food.”

“Everybody loves Chinese food, it’s not that hard to guess.”

“Fine. But if you can guess what I’m about to order, I’ll start filing a restraining order against you, assuming you’re a stalker.”

“Well, I gotta be careful not to get caught then.”

“Baby?” Donghyuck snaps you out of your reverie. “I’m asking what you wanna have for dinner.”

“Umm…” You push a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, somewhat jittery. “Chinese food?”

He frowns upon your words. “I didn’t know you liked Chinese food.”

“I-it’s just something I haven’t eaten in a while.”

“Well, I’m going to cook you something better.” He grins, boyish and ignorant. “How about your favorite Spaghetti Aglio e Olio by Chef Lee Donghyuck?”

You smile, weak but hopefully not empty. “That would be nice.”

***

“You’re okay?” Jaehyun asks the second you take a seat in front of him. He seems so concerned that it surprises you. You haven’t realized you look that troubled.

“I’m fine,” you assure him with a smile. “Just… You know, boyfriend stuff.”

You can tell how Jaehyun is holding back his words from how tightly he keeps his lips pressed together. He’s always considerate like that, always detecting every little thing that you try to hide but never pressures you to speak, especially when it comes to your relationship. Jaehyun respects you, respects the fact that you are already involved with someone that he never tries to get you to look in his direction. Though his eyes often betray him, Jaehyun tries his best to maintain his distance. He never flirts, never praises you with romantic words, never steps out of line.

And you’re thankful for that because deep down you know, once he does, it will be hard to untangle yourself from his grasp.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Then...” Jaehyun closes his book, leaning closer. His dimples are so prominent when he grins, eyes turning into a beautiful pair of crescents. “How about we go try out some dumplings?”

It’s so sudden and random but once the idea sinks in, there’s only one thing you want to say. “Take me away, Jaehyun.”

It’s not about the food. It’s not about ignoring your problems, or the loneliness that’s drowning you a little bit more every day. It’s about enjoying the little things with someone who understands you, someone who doesn’t need to hold your hand to keep you warm. 

Someone who can finally let you breathe.

***

“I can’t believe it’s closed early,” you whine after you read the sign that’s strapped to the library’s front door. “And I was so excited to read the next chapter too.”

“What’s the book?” Jaehyun asks, adjusting the strap of his bag that hangs low on his shoulder.

“No Longer Human.”

“By Osamu Dazai?”

“Yep.”

“I’ve got a copy of that.”

“What, really?” The spark of glee that glimmer in your eyes catches him by surprise but he hides it behind a soft smile. “Can I borrow it? It’s such an old book, I can’t even find the e-book version of it.”

“Sure. Would you like to come over to my place?” The line makes your breath hitched in your throat and Jaehyun recognizes the faint blush that spreads on your cheeks. Mirroring your reaction, he hastily clears his throat, rubbing his nape as his face turns scarlet. “Or, uhh, I can just hand it over to you tomorrow.”

“No, it’s—” As you tuck your hair behind your ear, you notice your fingers are shaking. “I have—I’ve got time to spare. You have coffee at your place, right?”

His shoulders begin to relax and with a soft gaze, he reciprocates with an even tender smile. “If you’re alright with instant coffees.”

“Then lead the way.”

Jaehyun has this mature persona around him, like a caring big brother that calms you down but the second you arrive in his hallway, he fumbles with his words, his key slipping out of his fingers during his first try, and his nervousness starts to rub off on you.

It makes you wonder whether he’s feeling like he’s crossing the line, just as much as you are with Donghyuck’s name sitting on the front of your mind.

“Come in,” he invites, opening the door but keeping his eyes anywhere else but yours. “I hope you don’t mind the mess.”

His apartment smells just like him and it makes it hard for you to focus on anything else. But the second you’re able to sort that thought away, you realize something. He keeps his place minimalist and neat, just like the way he dresses and writes. Everything is organized properly with two paintings decorating his walls—ones that remind you of your grandmother’s house. “You really do have an old soul,” you playfully comment and he scrunches his nose at you in return.

It feels more familiar to step into Jaehyun’s apartment than your own because he has everything that you wanted and more. All the books sitting on his shelf, his collection of CDs, even the potpourri he has on his coffee table has the same scent with the one you’re planning to buy. 

“I know you said we have similar taste, but this…” You scan his bookshelf in awe, noticing how it almost covers his entire wall from how huge it is. He owns hundreds of books and everything is arranged alphabetically. “This is just taking it to another level. Are you sure you’re not my stalker?”

He simpers. “If I was, I wouldn’t have invited you here. Too much evidence.”

“Or maybe you’re just planning to keep me here with you forever.” When he doesn’t reply, you realize how wrong that line just sounded. “I’m sorry, was that a weird thing to say?”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Jaehyun waves you off, walking to the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

The tension gradually starts to ease by the time you have a book in your lap, your eyes running from one passage to another. Sitting next to you, Jaehyun has his pen glued to his notepad again, his brown hair nearly looks golden as the sunset illuminates his face with such a warm, beautiful glow.

He really does look like a painting, you admire as you steal glances at him from behind your book. The perfect shape of his nose, his smooth skin, the way he’s so focused on his story, drowned inside his imagination… Maybe you’re being carried away, taken by his beauty, that your mouth begins to produce the words without thinking.

“Why do you look so sad?” 

Jaehyun’s pen nearly slips from his fingertips. “What?”

“Sometimes you just look... so lonely and hurt,” you clarify although you’re growing more conscious of the way you’re crossing the line. “It feels like you’re forcing yourself to smile when you look at me...”

Jaehyun loses the ability to speak, even just blinking his eyes already seems like a stretch. But he sees something, the genuine curiosity and concern written in your eyes, that makes him avert his gaze away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he remarks, forcing himself to chuckle and you know that’s he’s showing you that smile again, even when you can barely make out his features.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Maybe you’re just tired of him keeping secrets to himself when you’re sure they concern you. Maybe you’re just sick of seeing him like he’s on the verge of breaking apart without knowing the cause. Or perhaps it’s just your selfish way of saying, “I want you to smile, truly smile, because of me and no one else.”

But you find yourself reaching out a hand, your fingertips meeting the warm skin of his cheek, wanting him to turn his face around so you can see his expression. Jaehyun jolts, your name tumbles down his lips abruptly, his hand clamping against your wrist. “What are you doing?” His eyes are shaking as they bore deep into yours but yours are steady. Your eyes, your voice, your fingertips. They’ve never been this steady.

This is the first time you’ve been this close to him, to know how long his eyelashes really are, the way they flutter against his cheeks, the curve of his mouth, and the beauty mark on his pale skin. He’s possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever witnessed in person.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suddenly touch you like that.” You try to retract your hand, but he keeps his fingers around your wrist, hand hanging mid-air as he swallows his breath. Seeing him nervous makes you nervous. “Jaehyun, I won’t force you to say anything you don’t want to say, but…” You haven’t realized that you’ve been speaking in whispers, but Jaehyun has and his eyes soften just as much as yours do. “Please don’t pretend, not when you’re with me.”

Whether it’s from your words or the tenderness in your voice, you’re not sure, but Jaehyun releases your hand only so he can cup your cheek. He murmurs your name, so soft as if he’s telling a secret that he’s been dying to say. He leans forward, his breath is now fanning your cheek, and he’s so close, so close, and your eyes begin to shut when his lips faintly graze against yours—

The ringing sound of your phone blares through the room. 

Your entire movement stops but your heart runs a thousand miles per hour. It takes a good few seconds to come back to reality, and when you do, you’re not graceful at it. “Umm—” You glance away, breaking free from his touch. Your fingers are trembling hard when they retrieve your phone from the table. It has stopped ringing and a notification appears on your screen. The sight of your boyfriend’s name makes you feel like the floor is crumbling underneath you. “Sorry, it’s Donghyuck—I have to—It’s getting late, he must be looking for me.” Too embarrassed to see his face, you quickly gather your belongings into your arms, not even spending a few seconds to wear your coat back. “Thank you for inviting me. I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow?” And you don’t wait for an answer, only forcing yourself to laugh which comes out as strained and pitchy, before you head toward the front door.

“Wait.” Jaehyun has his right hand pressing against the back of the door, shutting it close before you have the chance to let yourself out. You’re trapped between the door and his chest, making it harder for you to breathe. “Can you look at me?” He firmly orders but promptly adds a soft, “Please,” when you’re not brave enough to respond to him. 

You turn around, hugging your purse and your coat to your chest, facing him but not meeting his eyes. You can feel him analyzing your expression, feel how heavy his gaze is on your face. He bends down slightly, hand reaching out to frame your face like before but you flinch, eyes shutting tightly before he can make any contact.

You can’t see the look on his face as you are too frightened to do so, but you can tell how much you hurt him by the sound of his voice. “You forgot your book,” he states, handing a copy of Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human.

“O-oh, right.” You sound so nervous, so afraid, and you don’t know why. “It’s okay. I won’t be able to read at home anyway—”

“I want you to have it.” It’s the first time he loses the warmth in his voice when he speaks and if you’re not too clouded by your thoughts, if you weren’t so selfish, you would’ve tried your best to fix the situation. But not right now. Right now, you just want to disappear. You want to run back home, run into Donghyuck’s arms like how you’re supposed to be. 

Because this is wrong. This isn’t supposed to happen. Not when you have another man waiting for your return.

You take the book from his hand, noticing how your fingers brush his and how they stay that way for a little too long, but Jaehyun doesn’t say anything. “I’m sorry,” you mumble out, tears begin to prickle at the corner of your eyes and you’re still not sure why you’re on the verge of crying.

“Don’t be. It was my fault.” He notices your emotions, he always does, and it breaks you apart to know how much you’re breaking him right now. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Nothing happened,” you convince him, shaking your head and will your tears to go away before they fall down your cheeks. “We didn’t do anything.”

Jaehyun’s fingers curls, nails sinking into his palms as he tries his best to mask what he’s feeling. “You’re right,” he quietly repeats, “Nothing happened.”

***

“Where have you been?”

Your keys slip through your fingers at the sound of Donghyuck’s voice and you’re petrified, millions of thoughts running through your head as you try to come up with an excuse.

But why? Why do you have to come up with an excuse? “Nothing happened. We didn’t do anything.” Isn’t that what you said?

“Babe?”

You jump back a couple of steps when Donghyuck walks into your personal space with a frown breaking on his temple. He furrows his eyebrows deeper at your reaction. “You okay? You look kinda pale.”

“Yeah, umm—” You adjust the collar of your turtleneck shirt, suddenly feeling like you’re being choked. “It’s fine—I’m fine. I just had a long day at work.”

“Why didn’t you text me? I could’ve swung by to pick you up.”

You force yourself to smile at his offer. “Thank you. It’s okay, really. Were you waiting for me?”

“Well yeah, I wanted to eat dinner together. It’s been a while since we did that and I wanted to make it up to you.” He cutely pouts and you’re reminded of the reason why you’re so trapped under his spell. “Text me next time when you’re about to come home late so I don’t have to wait for you.”

There it is. It strikes again. The feeling of loneliness. Curling your fingers at the hem of your shirt, you weakly reply with, “I’m sorry.”

Because out of the millions of thoughts that run through your head, that’s the only thing you have the bravery to say out loud.

***

“Hyuck?” You call out, carding your fingers through his soft locks. Donghyuck has his head on your lap with his legs sprawled out, taking most of the couch. His eyes are glued to the screen of his Nintendo Switch, thumb moving frantically to land a new high score. “I think we need to talk.”

Donghyuck doesn't respond right away. After a few relentless movements of his thumbs, he shouts, “Fuck, not again! Goddamn, I gotta restart all over again.” You can see him renewing the game, picking a different character. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I just…” You’re nervous, feeling more so than the pain that swells in your chest from not being taken seriously. “It feels like we haven’t been spending time with each other. Properly, I mean.”

“We’re spending time together now, aren’t we?” He hisses when his character takes another damage from his opponent. “What, do you want to watch a movie or something?”

I want us to talk. I want us to laugh. I want us to listen to each other like we used to. “I’m not in the mood for movies right now.”

After taking another shot, Donghyuck groans. “Fuck this stupid game,” he grumbles, throwing his device to the coffee table. “You know what’s annoying? The fact that I could land a perfect high score when I was drunk as fuck but now, I can’t even get into top three!”

Your patience is growing thin, but even then, you can’t find the strength to confront him properly. “Hyuck…”

“Right, sorry.” He heaves a sigh, rubbing his head as he sits straight up, facing you properly. “What is it? Is there something wrong?”

You meet his gaze and you realize how rarely you stand in this position, with him looking directly at your face with concern in his eyes. Now that he’s paying you full attention, your vocabulary turns into a blank slate. Your lips are parted but your voice is nowhere to be found, as it is hidden by the fear of speaking beyond control once you let your emotions run loose. 

“I…” You begin, clearing your throat to sound less anxious. “Are you happy with me?”

He knits his eyebrows together. “Of course, I’m happy. What are you talking about? Have I done something to upset you?”

“No, it’s…” Your hands lay rigid on your lap, fingers tightening around each other. You weakly smile. “Nothing. I guess I just had some weird thoughts popping in my head.”

“Look, I promise you I’ll do the laundry this weekend,” he confidently convinces you, as if that was the problem you’re currently facing. He pokes you on the nose, grinning boyishly. “Stop acting so weird, you’re creeping me out. What else are you thinking about? If it’s sex you want, you just gotta ask. You know I’m down with it anytime you want.”

“Yeah, of course…” You can force yourself to laugh but every sound you make feels like a knife piercing against your heart. “Sorry, I was just being stupid. You can ignore me.”

“I won’t ignore you, how can I do that? Not when you’re this cute.” He giggles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. But his affection does not make the butterflies in your stomach come alive. It makes hot tears threatening to appear in your eyes. “I like your sweater,” Donghyuck coos, “Is it new?”

No, this is my third time wearing it in front of you. “Yes. I’m glad you noticed.”

“I always notice everything about you.” He ruffles your hair as he stands up, stretching out his arms above his head. “Is there anything else you’d like to talk about? ‘Cause I’m dead tired.”

“No. Thank you for listening.”

“Anytime, babe.” He bends his head down to kiss you fully on the mouth, tongue running along your lower lip just to tease like usual. When he pulls away, he has his juvenile grin intact. “Well, I’m going to bed. If I wake up late tomorrow, you can re-heat the food. I’ve stored everything in the fridge.”

Donghyuck disappears behind the door before you can finish saying good night.

***

The sun’s about to set… He must have been there already.

It has been two days since you last saw Jaehyun. You know you’re not being fair avoiding him like this, but you don’t know what else to do. You’re not brave enough to face him after that. Have you been giving him signs? Was it your fault, was it the expression you made, was it the words you spoke, that made him lean towards you, asking for a kiss that you were more than eager to give?

“Hey, babe,” Lee Donghyuck chirps against your ear, arms finding their way to circle your waist, pulling you to his lap. “What are you doing?”

You’re successful at hiding your surprise but knowing it’s Donghyuck, anything will probably pass by without him realizing. Even when you have spent the last fifteen minutes reading the same paragraph in your book over and over again as your thoughts drift somewhere else. 

You have a boyfriend and it’s not Jaehyun. Donghyuck is everything to you now, isn’t he? Yet, if you hadn’t been interrupted by that phone call, you were sure you would’ve yielded to Jaehyun’s touch.

“Nothing happened. We didn’t do anything.”

You’re disgusted with yourself.

You throw a glance to the side, your nose nearly brushing his as Donghyuck settles his chin on your shoulder. Unlike Jaehyun who has a fresh, masculine scent, Donghyuck smells like summer and lilacs under the sun. It’s comforting and sweet, yet even after two years, it stills feels somewhat unfamiliar to you.

“Reading a book.” You shiver when he pushes your hair away, placing a lazy wet kiss on your nape, lips parted and tongue pressing against the skin. “Hyuck…”

“It’s okay, keep reading.” Whenever his mouth makes contact with your skin, he adds a hum or a moan to make sure you know that despite his words, he’s not giving you the chance to continue. “You want us to spend more time together, don’t you?”

You deeply exhale, staring lifelessly at the ceiling, sensitive skin being caressed but none of his touches pumps desire through your veins. Since when did I stop wanting him this way? You wonder, feeling guilty when Jaehyun’s face appears in the corner of your mind once more.

“Baby,” Donghyuck murmurs seductively against the skin, thin fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, trailing over your navel. “Hasn’t it been a while since we last did it?”

“It’s only been a week.”

“And that’s a week too long. I want you.” He strokes your cheek, guiding you to meet his eyes. “Can I touch you?”

It’s a rhetorical question since you both know you can’t say no when he demands something from you. “Of course.”

Donghyuck’s lips still taste the same, feel the same as they suck bruises on your delicate skin but the sparks are no longer there. He used to make you squirm with excitement, body begging under temptation. Sex used to be an adventure, a way for him to make you lose your mind, to have you gasping his name between moans, nails clawing against his back, thighs trembling under his fingertips.

Right now, sex is just… another glue to keep your relationship in place.

Clothes are discarded on the floor, and Donghyuck is sitting with you on his lap, his spine pressed against the couch, nails digging into your hips as he brings you down to take him inch-by-inch. He hisses when he feels you engulfing him with your warmth, head thrown back with lips parted in a blissful moan.

“No matter how much we’ve done it,” he chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “I can never get enough of the way you’re taking me so well, baby.” Donghyuck is a very passionate lover and his lips love to praise, both by words and kisses. The way he calls your name, the way he whispers, “You feel so good around me,” often makes you wonder whether there would be any other man who will desire you this much. But is it love? Does he love you? 

Do you love him? 

You’re not sure. You don’t know yet. But you know he plays a huge part in your life. Donghyuck once added a spectrum of colors into your previously dull, monochromatic life. You care about him, think about him more than you should, even putting his needs and priorities above yours.

If that’s not love, then what is it?

“Donghyuck…” You flinch when he rocks his hips up, a bit too rough and forceful as he’s getting impatient with the pace you’re going. “I—I think I love you.”

It surprises you that these words can leave your lips but you don’t regret it. It’s the right thing to do, saying these words to him. It’s only natural after the amount of time you’ve spent with him. It’s a way to bridge the gap between you and him, to reignite the flame, to bring laughter back into your life. 

To fix the mistake you just made two days ago.

But maybe his thoughts are too clouded with lust, maybe your words are too quiet for him to hear, or maybe you haven’t said the words at all and everything is just playing inside your imagination but no matter what the reason is, Donghyuck doesn’t answer. The words that escape his lips are obscene, a sign that he’s about to finish and you let him pull you closer to his chest, let him sink his face in the crook of your neck, let him groan and release everything inside because that’s what you’re supposed to do.

“Did you get to come?” He asks, breathless and flushed when he’s finished. His bangs are glued to his temple, sun-kissed skin glistening with sweat and when he strokes your cheekbone with his fingers, they tremble from the pleasure that washed through his body.

“Yes.” You didn’t. You haven’t in a while. It’s not because you didn’t enjoy it. Donghyuck still moved in the way you wanted him to—in the way that used to untie the knots in your stomach, almost making you cry from how good it was. But you’ve begun to realize that there was a part of you missing and Donghyuck isn’t the right piece to complete the puzzle. 

Jaehyun.

The dread of having another man’s name running through your head is so much, it almost makes you vomit your insides. 

“Hyuck.”

“Yes, baby?”

“I said I love you.”

There’s no going around it this time. You’ve said the words, you’ve pronounced them loud and clear but when Donghyuck still doesn’t say anything, you wish the earth could swallow you whole. “Can you… say something, please…?”

“Baby,” he sighs, fingers framing your face so gently, it hurts you. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. It’s not that I don’t love you but—”

You’re stunned, shocked to your core at the incoming rejection but… that’s it.

You don’t feel anything. How can you not feel anything? You don’t feel hurt, you’re not disappointed, you’re just…

Relieved.

“Baby, are you listening?” Donghyuck calls again, grabbing you by your chin so he can peer into your eyes. “I like you. I really do like you. I like you so much but love is such a big word and for me to be committed that way is just… I don’t know, I haven’t figured out my feelings yet. I don’t even understand what love is. I just—I need more time.”

You’re lost for words. How can you tell him? How can you say that you’re so relieved he doesn’t love you back? How can you tell him that his action does not break you apart, but only makes you realize that you’ve just been forcing yourself to stay with him because it feels like it’s the right thing to do?

What if you’re just staying with him because you’re so afraid of being alone, not knowing that loneliness is the only thing he can offer you in return?

“I understand,” you quietly reply, climbing off his lap. Your knees wobble slightly under your weight as your mind travels somewhere else. You gather your clothes into your arms, placing them back on your body.

Donghyuck frowns at your reaction, calling your name as he stands up and pulls his jeans back to place. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you by saying it when I still don’t truly mean it the way you do.”

You can’t look at him, can’t meet his eyes when you can’t even understand how you feel. “I get it, Hyuck, it’s fine.”

But maybe Donghyuck is taking it the wrong way because his voice is laced with both exhaustion and desperation to make this feel any less terrible. “Babe, can we just talk—”

“I said, I’m fine!” You turn around to face him, head dizzy and heart palpitating. It scares you. It scares you that after all this time thinking Donghyuck was the one for you—all the things you’ve done, all the memories you’ve shared—you still don’t understand your feelings for him. You loved him once, you’re sure you loved him once. But is it love if the feeling isn’t eternal? Can you call it love when it fleets by so fast, disappearing without a trace as if it’s never existed in the first place?

To think that these two years you have spent with him would amount to nothing...

You take a deep breath, wishing your body and voice to stop shaking. When you look him in the eyes, there’s nothing but certainty written in your eyes. “You’re right, we need to talk.”

Donghyuck walks to your spot, hand resting against your waist, another one framing your cheek. “Please don’t be mad,” he whispers, and for the first time in the last few months, he does look sorry. “I’m happy to hear you say those words, I really do, but—”

“I want to break up.”

He freezes, jaw dropping low. “What?” 

“I want to break up with you, Donghyuck.”

“What—why—” His eyebrows are sewn together, and you take his hand away from your face, breaking free from his hold. “You’re breaking up with me because I can’t say I love you too?”

“No.” You exhale. “I’m breaking up with you because I feel fine with you not saying it back.”

He stands in silence, then his forced chuckles fill the air. “Babe, what are you talking about—”

“Are you happy with me?” The tremble in your voice has receded. “Be honest. Are you truly happy with me? Or are you just going along with everything because you’re so comfortable—so used to the situation of being with me—that you start to think as long as I’m not hurt, it’s fine. As long as I’m not alone, I can keep going with this relationship, even when I’m with someone who doesn’t truly understand me. Or accept the real me.”

Donghyuck releases the breath he doesn’t know he’s been holding. His voice is a pitch lower when he speaks, bitter and hurt. “Is that how you feel? All this time when we’re together?”

“No.” Your heart still breaks at the sight of his face. “I think I really did love you once, Hyuck. And if you had rejected me a few months earlier, I would’ve probably broken down crying. But now…” You grow stiff, noticing the infuriated look that’s plastered on his face. “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck stays mute and the silence only adds more tension to the atmosphere. His teeth are grinding against each other when he replies. “Why did you even say you loved me if you weren’t fucking sure about how you felt?”

You twist your finger in the hemline of your shirt, in dire need of something to keep your emotions collected. “I thought it would make us grow closer again. To fix what’s lost between us,” you weakly admit, heart throbbing and breaking at the sight of him. “But then I realized that we shouldn’t say we love someone just because we have to. We should say it because we want to. Because we truly feel that way. But I didn’t feel anything when you didn’t say it back. I only felt… relieved.” 

The enraged look on his face forces you to drag your eyes to your feet and you stay still, breathing as quietly as possible. It’s only when Donghyuck starts to reach for his jacket, muttering, “I’m not having any of these bullshits,” as he walks passes you that you dare to look in his direction.

“How easy for you to put this all on me,” he declares with his fingers lingering on the doorknob, so spitefully it shocks you. “You probably think I’m dumb and insensitive, but I know. I’ve noticed the way you changed ever since you met him.”

“What?” His words feel like a slap to the face. “I don’t—”

“You know,” he cynically laughs into the air, throwing his head back. “Just because you found someone who makes you happy ‘cause he can quote your favorite lines, read your favorite books or listen to the same shit you like, doesn’t mean you can throw me away like I’m some fucking garbage.”

You’re petrified by his words. Somewhere in your head, you keep saying that the reason why you’re breaking up with him is that you’re so different from each other—that there would be little to no chance for the two of you to understand one another even if you’re given all the time in the world. But you can’t deny that there’s a part of you that completely rejects Donghyuck simply because you’ve stopped wanting him as much as you want Jaehyun. 

It sickens you.

“I’m…” It’s suffocating. The tension in the air, his eyes, the way your heartbeat is ramming against your ribcages. “I’m sorry...”

Your apology only aggravates him more and with gritted teeth, Donghyuck slams the door behind him, leaving you alone in the silence of your room.

Your apartment has never felt this big before.

***

It’s funny how you just ended your two years relationship with your boyfriend but Donghyuck isn’t the one you’ve been avoiding for months. It’s Jaehyun.

Something is gnawing at you from the inside, the feeling of guilt as if you just sinned. You didn’t cheat on your boyfriend. Physically, you didn’t. You’re attracted to Jaehyun, everybody would be to someone who owns such a handsome face and delicate features. But it’s more than just physical attraction because when you lay at night in your bed, alone and empty, it’s not his face that comes to mind. It’s the little thing he does, the way he listens to your words so attentively, the way he smiles—happy and sad at the same time, the way he greets you, the way he nibbles at his lower lip as he tries to think of a word to write on his note. 

And the dreams.

The dreams never stop, they only grow stronger. You can remember each and every one of them crystal clear when you wake up. They’re usually different every night but for the last few days, the atmosphere and the surroundings were the same. 

In the dream, you were lying down in a hospital bed, wearing nothing but your white gown, too weak to even lift a finger. Jaehyun was sitting on a wooden chair with a book in his hand—the one that he presented you as a gift in real life—while his other hand was holding yours, thumb tenderly gliding against your knuckles. He seemed much thinner, cheekbones growing prominent with dark eye-bags tainting his pale skin. But his smile was the same, just as warm, just as tender.

He was reading you a story, one that you had memorized by heart from how many times you’ve read it. But it’s different when he read the words out loud, voice melodious and soothing, like a mother’s lullaby. When it was over, he beamed at you, asking, “What’s your favorite part of the story?” And you opened your mouth but no words could come out. You were losing your voice, could only make croaking sounds and even that already put a strain on your body. You could see how much it broke him to hear you struggle but he waited patiently, hand squeezing yours tighter. 

“Me too,” he responded after he heard your answer, kissing your knuckles. “I like that one too.”

In another dream, you saw him sitting at the edge of your bed, his mouth still formed that beautiful, delicate smile, but his eyes were as heavy as the storm. You asked him, why, what’s wrong, trying your best to let your voice break free from your mouth. He brushed his fingers against your cheek, pushing your hair out of your eyes. “I won’t let anything separates us,” he said and it felt more like a promise than how it sounded. “Not time, not death, nothing. I will always be with you.” He let his lips linger on your temple as he whispered the next words. “So it’s okay if you want to sleep. I won’t be going anywhere.”

Then… I’ll see you again when I wake up.

“Yes.” He leaned closer, letting his lips meet your chapped ones in a chaste kiss. “I’ll see you again when you wake up.”

But by the time you opened your eyes, heart thrumming loudly inside your chest, with the sound of the alarm in your phone muffled by your pillow, you knew that in the dream, once you go to sleep, you’d never be able to wake up.

I have to see him.

***

Three months have passed since you last saw him. It’s funny that despite how close you are to each other, know each other like the back of your hand, you just only realize now that you haven’t given him a way to contact you. No home address. No phone numbers. No social media. You’re not even sure what his last name was. You never needed to know his contact details before. Every day, an hour before the sun is replaced by the moon, you will meet each other here in this library—that was the unspoken promise between you and neither of you ever broke it. Not until now. The second you stop coming to the library, you disappear from his life as well, as easy as snapping your fingers.

The quickest way to see him is by visiting the library. Today you will see him. You just have to.

It’s raining hard, hard enough to drench you to your socks, painting shivers to each of your fingertips. It’s a Sunday evening, the sun is an hour away from setting behind the horizon. But with how heavy the rain is going, the day will turn into the night before the sun can shine its light through the clouds again.

Hesitation arises within you as you take shelter on the porch, your shivering fingers circling the doorknob to the library. He might not even be here in this kind of weather, you miserably think to yourself. It wasn’t raining when you took your leave half an hour earlier but you should’ve noticed how thick and dark the clouds were. Your thoughts were too jumbled that you didn’t even think about carrying an umbrella with you.

But you’re already here and if he still keeps his promise…

You take a step inside.

Your clothes are drenched but thankfully they’re not dripping water to the carpeted floor. It’s warmer inside, so warm that you feel like you’re home, sitting close to a fireplace, basking in the scent of sandalwood. Your eyes naturally scan the room, taking a longer glance at the table where you usually sit in front of him, a book in your hands, a smile strapped to your face. Jaehyun’s nowhere to be seen.

He’s not here. Is it because of the rain? Or… Maybe he has stopped coming here to see me. 

You can only realize how important someone is to you when they’re gone and it hurts so much that you have to nip at your lower lip, fingers curling around the end of your sweater. 

I want to see him again…

“You’re here…”

You turn your head to the source of his voice, heart about to burst when you see Jaehyun stopping on his tracks, one hand holding the entrance door open, another one carrying a folded umbrella that drips water to the floor. He’s so stunned at the sight of you, he doesn’t even appear to be breathing. In a whisper, your name breaks free from his lips.

And you run towards him with all your might.

He nearly stumbles from how hard you’re crushing your body against his, his umbrella falling from his grip but he doesn’t push you away. Jaehyun is warm, warmer than everything you’ve ever held and you wonder whether you’re just freezing from the cold or he’s always been this comforting. It feels so natural to stay in his embrace, to be wrapped with his strong arms, to have him whisper your name against the shell of your ear. 

I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.

Jaehyun...

The first tear that slips down your cheek is an accident, as you don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t even know why you’re crying but you can’t stop. You sob against his chest, fingers curling against the fabric of his knitted sweater, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from crying harder but failing every time. 

Jaehyun never breaks away from your embrace. He does not care if people stare, does not listen to the murmurs being exchanged at the back of the room. He pulls you closer, one hand holding you around the waist and the other one stroking your damp hair. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he says, overwhelming you with his scent, his warmth, his voice, his everything and you still want more. His lips nearly brush against the tip of your ear when he whispers, “I’ve missed you.”

Your hands are now fisting the back of his sweater, pressing your cheek to his chest as you muffle your cry, focusing more on the sound of his heartbeat. It feels like a dream, one that you never want to wake up.

It’s only when you have the strength to pull away from him that he releases you. He swipes his thumb under your eye, erasing the stains of your tears. He looks at you in a way that is so different than the way Donghyuck used to. His gaze is softer, a mix between the feeling of relief for having you in his arms and a yearning to have more as if you’re still far away from his reach.

I want him to stare at me like this forever.

“You’re freezing,” he says, noticing the coldness of your cheek against his palm. “Would you like to come over to my place? I can make you something warm.”

You let out a tiny laugh. “That would be nice.”

***

Jaehyun’s sweater is too big that the hem falls to the middle of your thighs. Your clothes are in the dryer, making rumbling noise that’s loud enough to fill the awkward silence between you. Drying your hair with a towel he gave you, you take a seat next to him, careful enough not to invade his personal space too much.

“How are you feeling?” Jaehyun asks, handing you a cup of hot chocolate.

“Warmer now, thanks.” You wrap your fingers around the mug, seeing a cloud of steam erupting from your drink. 

“It’s been a while since we last saw each other. I’m glad you look fine.” 

“I am. I feel fine. More so than I’ve ever been.” And it’s not a lie. Being here with him, despite everything that happened, makes you feel at ease. He makes you feel as if you had been embarking on a trip for so long and now you’re finally home. “Were you, umm…” Were you planning to wait for me at the library? Have you been waiting for me all this time? Or was it just a mere coincidence that we bumped into each other again?

“Were I what?”

“Never mind.” You don’t have the bravery to do it. Flushed, you quickly take a sip of your drink.

“I was about to wait for you,” he suddenly confesses, nearly making you choke. “I was… worried about you. I kept wondering whether something bad happened.” His voice gradually turns into murmurs as he continues. “And I thought... After what happened... You hated me.”

The ticking sound of the clock echoes like thunder when silence hangs in the room. “I would never hate you, Jaehyun…” You’re unconsciously rubbing the edge of your mug with your thumb, eyes fixated on the glass instead of him. “There’s no way I could hate you.”

From the corner of your eyes, you could see him turning his head to face you. “Well, you stopped visiting for three months without leaving a word. It was hard for me to stay positive,” he says, a bit teasingly, “And I had no idea how to contact you either. I didn’t know what else to do but wait in the library every day until I could see you again. So that’s what I did.”

Blood is rushing to your face. He did wait for me. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” He chuckles and you just realized how much you missed hearing it. “You don’t need to. I’m glad we can meet again.”

“Me too.” You mirror his smile. “You know, you could’ve just looked me up online.”

“Then, why didn’t you?” He asks and your heart stops. “Why didn’t you call me?”

You have to tell him the truth, you owe him that much. “I couldn’t. The way Donghyuck looked at me when I broke up with him made me feel so guilty and I knew I would hate myself even more if I ran back to you right after.”

“Why?” Jaehyun questions in a whisper. “What did you feel guilty for?”

Your heartbeat roars so thunderously loud, you can hear it in your ears. “Because he said the reason why I broke up with him was that… I had feelings for you.”

Jaehyun stays in silence for a few seconds and it drives you insane. Eventually, he leans forward to lay his cup down on the coffee table. “So…” He hesitantly speaks. “Did you tell him he was wrong about that?”

You tighten your hold around your cup. “I…” Taking a deep breath, you confess. “I didn’t.”

And there are so many things to be said, but none of you dares to speak. The silence is deafening, its invisible arms strangling you little by little and you’re trapped, not knowing whether to ask him to respond or just run away before your heart explodes to pieces.

Jaehyun does that look again where he stares at you like you own his heart, giving you the permission to hold it or crush it however you like. “Your hair is still dripping water,” he says, reaching out to place his hands around the towel and gently dab your strands, squeezing out the excess water and he’s so close, you can truly see the color of his eyes. In the soft, yellowish light of his room, they’re a little bit darker, a stark contrast to his pale skin. You’re distracted with the way his eyes shimmer under the light, the way he breathes so softly, warm breath hitting your lips.

And you don’t know who initiate it, but for the next breath you take, you’re gasping for it against his mouth. Jaehyun’s lips move slow against yours, tentative and patient, waiting for you to react. But he doesn’t have to wait, not when you’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Not when both of you have been wishing for it to happen.

If your mind wasn’t too deluded with the thoughts of him, how he feels against your body, how he tastes on your tongue, how the low grunt and moan that escape from the back of his throat successfully send shivers down your spine, you would’ve probably thought about how different he was compared to Donghyuck. Jaehyun was so tender, cradling your figure so gently as if you were about to break into pieces if he moves too fast. His kisses aren’t as rushed and bruising as Donghyuck’s, but they’re deep and just as passionate, if not more. The effects that his lips have on your skin burn stronger than anything you’ve ever felt. And if you thought Donghyuck reminded you of the sun, Jaehyun was the blazing sun himself.

But you couldn’t think of Donghyuck. You can’t think of anything else but Jaehyun. Right now, he’s the only one that matters.

“Push me away anytime you want,” he says, eyes dark and hazy, as he circles a hand around your waist to press your body flat against his chest.

With one hand fisting his collar, you let your lips taste him once more. “I never want you to.”

Your soft gasp is muffled by the skin of his neck when Jaehyun lifts your body off the couch, and you tangle your legs around his waist for support as he carries you toward his bedroom. Despite the growing, overwhelming passion between you, he lies you down so gently on the bed, hovering above you as he paints your name at the skin below your ear. You let out a sigh, pulling him closer and closer until you can sink completely into his warmth. 

No words are being exchanged because they don’t need to. Jaehyun speaks with his eyes, expresses his feelings with his lips, and carves your body with nothing but affection and adoration with his gentle hands. It amazes you how different sex can feel when there are feelings involved. It’s a connection, not just between your body and his but your mind, your soul, and every bit of your heart.

You’re more sensitive to his touch that even the slightest slide of his finger can make you arch your back. Jaehyun swallows every gasp, every moan of his name that tumbles down your lips and you do just the same with his.

He only stops to give you the chance to catch your breath when he’s fully sheathed inside you. His fingers tremble as they caress your face. “Are you okay?” He asks, sounding breathless and hoarse. He looks even more beautiful like this, skin glistening with sweat, lips bruised and swollen by kisses, pale cheeks reddening at the feeling of you peering into his eyes.

You smile, gaze softening. “I’m fine.”

Jaehyun has never looked so content before, so relieved, so happy and it makes you feel something in your stomach—something that you haven’t felt for months—to know that you’re the reason behind his most genuine, beautiful smile. When he whispers, “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me,” into your ear, you know that he’s not talking about the time you were absent from the library. His words have more weight to them as if he’s been waiting for you for years as if you once belonged to him before something separated the strings between you.

“I’m going to move, okay?” Jaehyun murmurs against your lips, and you let out a shaky breath, nodding a little.

He takes it slow, waiting for you to adjust to his rhythm as he keeps his eyes on your expression to make sure he’s not hurting you in any way. His eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed, lips parted in a small moan, barely audible. He splays one hand on the inner part of your thigh, fingers pressing hard against the supple skin as he pins it down to the bed, spreading your legs wider so he can press himself deeper inside you.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers against your jawline. “So beautiful…”

You nibble at your lip, circling your arms around his shoulders, raking your nails down his back as he picks up the pace. He’s perfect, he’s so perfect at everything he does—the sway of his hips, the angle, the way he changes from giving shallow to deep thrusts in accordance to your expression, knowing exactly what you need. 

He kisses you every time you give him the chance and it makes everything a lot more intimate, makes you feel more vulnerable, makes you feel more exposed. “I’m in love with you,” he says, forehead pressing against your own. “I’ve always been… All this time…”

There’s a surge of joy washing through your entire body and it’s so intense, you find yourself hiding your face in the crook of his neck, your vision blurred with tears. How can you feel so complete when this is your first time with him?

“Jae—” You gasp, your thighs trembling as you wrap your legs around his hips, arms hugging his shoulders tighter. “Jaehyun, I’m—I’m close—”

At your words, Jaehyun untangles your arms from his body and sits on his heels. He takes a hold of your waist and slams his hips harder to yours, driving you to the edge until you’re left sobbing against the sheets. He pulls away on the last second to finish himself off, tainting your stomach as a low grunt breaks free from the back of his throat. His bangs are falling over his eyes, a bead of sweat rolling down from his chest to his lean stomach and he still looks like a painting, one that you can’t seem to stop admiring.

“Wait, don’t move,” he says as if you had the strength to do so. “I’ll clean you up.”

When he comes back from the bathroom, fully clothed in a white tee and black sweat pants, he takes care of you so attentively, dabbing warm towel along your skin, swatting the bangs out of your eyes. A gentle smile never leaves his face but he blushes whenever your eyes make eye contact, though not as apparent as the shakes on his fingertips. 

“You’re so good at this,” you tease him, propping your elbows on the bed. “Must have a lot of experience with women, I’m sure.”

“I’ve only ever been with you,” he answers and it doesn’t sound like a lie.

“What?”

His movement stops, acknowledging the appalled look on your face. “There’s… something you need to know.” He slips under the comforter, lying down on his side, and makes sure it covers your body to your shoulders to keep you warm. “That day, when we first met… It wasn’t our first time meeting each other.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows are adjoined in the middle. “When did we first meet then?”

Jaehyun falls quiet, eyes searching yours. “In the same library,” he says, “Seventy-four years ago.”

***

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips as you scan your surroundings. Jaehyun has taken you somewhere you haven’t been before, a rural area in the foothills of Jiri Mountain. After spending more than three hours drive from Seoul, seeing nothing but never-ending roads and traffic signs, it feels refreshing to see a charming little village, blanketed in a snow of white and soft pink, with the sound of water streams soothing your ears and cold wind of April caressing your cheeks.

“Hwagae,” he claims, his hand never leaving yours as he walks next to you, taking shorter strides to match your step. “People usually think that Jinhae is the best place to see cherry blossoms, but for me, it’s here.” He glances at the way your fingers are intertwined with his, smiling timidly to himself. “But maybe due to personal reasons.”

“Well, you’re not lying…” You murmur in awe, eyes widening at the sight of cherry blossoms trees that line the road, following both sides of a turquoise-blue stream, pebbles whisked about in the under wash like pieces of glitter. “It’s beautiful.”

You can hardly pay attention to anything else so when Jaehyun presses a kiss against your hairline, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. “It is, isn’t it?” He says, pushing some loose strands behind your ear. “Beautiful.”

With his eyes locked with yours, it seems like he’s praising something else and you look away, cheeks heating up at his words. “How long does this road goes?”

“Around four kilometers.” Jaehyun follows your steps. “There are more than a thousand cherry blossom trees around. Locals call this lane the Marriage Road as it is said that lovers who walk hand-in-hand under the trees will get married and live happily ever after.”

He tightens his grips around your hand, and you can swear your palm is getting sweaty from how nervous you are. “You just can’t stop making me blush, can you?”

“I’m just stating out facts.” He chuckles and it’s even more beautiful than the whole scenery. He’s more beautiful than anything you’ve seen. But when he speaks, all trace of humor has dissipated. “You may not remember but... This was the place where I asked you to marry me.”

You have seen it coming but it still shocks you, nonetheless. It’s easier to treat him as a liar who’s telling superstitious stories and pointing things about you because he’s a stalker that knows more about you than he should. But the more he tells his stories, the more they feel like the truth and it’s not just a hunch. His stories are his versions of the dreams you’ve been having. The dreams that you’ve gotten ever since you first met him, and you never told anyone about that.

As you take a seat on the nearest bench, Jaehyun hands you his journal—the one he’s been using to write his novel. “I think it’s time for you to read the story.” But as you reach out to open it, he lays his hand on top of yours. “Before that,” he says, “Remember what I asked you? I want you to guess the ending for me.”

You’ve never thought about it, never imagined how the ending of his story would unravel. He has told you that it was about a pair of lovers meeting each other by fate and separated tragically by death, you knew that much. But anything could’ve separated them, whether it was because of sickness, accident, or simply because of old age, you could’ve guessed wrong. Yet, when your lips moved without thinking, providing answers that make your heart jolt, Jaehyun smiles and says, “Correct.” He then opens the book and gives you the chance to run your eyes through every passage. It’s written in a first-person narrative, allowing you to see through Jaehyun’s eyes as he unveils his story. 

The female lead has your name.

Every line. Every word. Every description. They feel like deja vu and the tiny hairs at your nape begin to raise. Your fingertips tremble as they move to open new pages. These are memories. They truly happened in the past. As you read, you can feel your own coming back, little by little, and by the time you’re halfway through the story, you can guess the next part that’s about to happen or correct little details that may have slipped from his mind.

“They were lilies,” you say, fingers tracing his perfect handwriting. “Not white roses.”

“What?”

“The flowers you gave me on our first anniversary.”

Jaehyun takes a shaky breath, and when he chuckles it sounds like a peal of tiny laughter and a choked sob at the same time. “Is that so?” He weakly asks, fixing his gaze to his lap. “I’m sorry, I must have forgotten.”

But he remembers everything else, everything that matters, even the way he felt back then. You could tell the love he once experienced with you through his eyes, the longing he has suffered as he waits for you to remember him once more, and the agony of being separated from you.

It’s easier to cry than to breathe when the memories of your past life start to dawn on you but you provide your best effort to stay reserved. There are more you need to learn.

The reason why he visited the library was not because he lived nearby. He moved there so he could visit the library, as it was the first time he met you in the previous life. “I was hoping she would remember the place as it was something we both grew fond of,” Jaehyun wrote in his journal, “She always thought I had a passion for books. She was wrong. She was the one who taught me that stories could mean something more. That they could make you feel alive, make you feel something you’ve never experienced just by words. I’d like to believe that these stories were the ones who brought us together, so we could create our own and maybe then, we could inspire other people—to make them feel alive with our stories.

I waited for her every day, from one season to another. The memories I have of her have always been there with me ever since I could remember, but that did not guarantee hers would resurface. Maybe she was looking for me. Maybe she was not. Either way, I couldn’t give up. I would not give up. 

And finally, one day, I saw her again. In the same library, with the same little smile she always had whenever she had her eyes fixated on her book. She appeared exactly the same as the first time I met her 74 years ago. I could not breathe, trapped between reaching out to her or just standing still in the distance, because when our eyes met for a brief second, she looked away. 

She did not remember me.

I was crushed. Devastated. I was nothing but a stranger. Twenty-five years I had been searching for her and now that she stood before me, I lost the ability to speak. It took me another week until I could find the bravery within me. I tried my best to appear as nonchalant as possible, even when my heart was breaking, even when my hands were shaking. I sank my nails into my palms so I wouldn’t take her hand and pull her into my embrace. When she told me her name, I was shocked. Her last name was different but her first name was the same, and I wanted to laugh. Fate could be so cruel, letting her keep her name but not her memories. 

But memories could be re-created, and I learned that none of her habits had changed. I might be a stranger, but to me, she was not. She was my wife and I wanted to hold her. I wanted to tell her I love her and hear her say the words back to me. I was ready to start over, to make her fall in love with me once more but before I could even begin, I learned that she had belonged to someone else.

And what killed me was that… She did not look happy with him.”

Your breathing stalls. Everything makes sense now. He’s been holding everything to himself. This was the secret he kept from you. And that time when he almost kissed you… What did you say to him?

“Please don’t pretend, not when you’re with me.”

That’s what he did. He stopped pretending. 

And you pushed him away, treating both of your feelings and his like a mere high school crush when they were something deeper than anything you’ve ever had. 

You place your lower lip between your teeth, nibbling at it until it grows white. He must have been so hurt, you realize, I’m the worst.

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asks, reaching out to take your hand. “You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I—” You shake your head, hoping the tears won’t fall. You give him a reassuring smile. “I want to. I need to remember.” Your smile doesn’t deceive him but he gives you the space you need, believing the honesty in your words.

Your marriage with him only lasted for four years before you passed away in your sleep, your weak lungs could no longer support your system, and through his story, you learned that Jaehyun followed you to the place he shouldn’t have. Because just a few minutes later after you took your final breath, he slit both of his wrists with a knife and hugged your body close to his chest, his blood drenching the white sheets underneath. His lips lingered against your hairline as he spoke, “I’ll see you again when you wake up.”

His neat handwriting starts to turn into dark splotches of ink as it is tainted by your tears. You’ve remembered. You’ve remembered everything. Everything that makes you happy and everything that hurts, you’re reliving each and every one of them. 

“Why?” You sob, shoulders quivering as you try to keep your emotions contained. “Why did you do that? You could’ve lived for many more years. Could’ve found someone else.” You bury your face in your palms, voice muffled by your skin. “You could’ve been happy without me.”

You can’t see how he looks at you, can’t feel his touch as he’s nowhere near, but you hear him take his breath. “My mother used to say,” he says, “that two people who are meant to be would always find their way to each other, even in the afterlife.” Jaehyun moves and kneels on the ground in front of you, his hands prying yours away from your face and his smile has never looked this blissful. “That’s why,” he continues, voice so soft it’s almost as light as the wind. “If there’s a chance, no matter how little it is, for me to see you again I would gladly trade my eternity for it.”

There are emotions you can’t explain, ones that you can’t understand. Emotions that make you cry as if the world was ending but also ones that make you feel so blessed to be born into this world, to be able to see him again, to witness his beautiful smile, his beautiful soul, and the beautiful love he has for you.

“Why are you crying?” Jaehyun chuckles softly but the quiver in his voice betrays him. He strokes your cheek, drying your tears with the pad of his thumb. 

Leaning into his touch, you sob against his palm, “I love you,” you confess, “I love you, Jaehyun. Even if my memories never came back, I’d still fall in love with you. Over and over again. I’m sorry you had to wait—”

Jaehyun abruptly stands on his knees, pulling you into his embrace. As your eyes widen in surprise, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, whispering, “If I had to wait a thousand years to be able to have this one moment with you, I’d gladly do it in a heartbeat.” His shoulders begin to shake and you wrap your arms around them, drenching the fabric of his shirt with your tears. “I love you too.”

There’s a voice inside your head that says, ah... so this is how it feels. 

Love... is not so complex after all. It doesn’t have to be. It’s not something to be understood. It’s not something to be thought endlessly. It’s not a choice to be made.

It’s a feeling, and feelings are meant to be felt. And you realize that happiness does not only emerge when your love is answered with the same passion. Happiness is already there in your heart just by loving him. You love him. You just love him. Entirely. Infinitely. 

So you kiss him with the biggest smile you can make, you pull him close with every strength that you have and you let him stay. In this life or another, you will let him stay.

And you will see him again when you wake up.

***

[cyncerity]

(Trapped wilbur au)

What would happen if Ranboo or Tubbo found out about who Tommy is hiding? Would they keep it secret and just not bring it up or would they immediately start endlessly questioning Tommy about it? I feel like they would probably freak out first though-

I was working on this on and off for like a month and then forgot about it and your ask literally just reminded me that I meant to put Tubbo and Ranboo in this au, whoops

Anyways, beeduo entry! I’m very excited for this one because it’s actually important to the story going forward! Hope you enjoy!

Tw: cursing, vore, blood, digestion (no one dies)

“And you’re sure that’s what you saw?” Tubbo asked. Ranboo nodded, and the goat hybrid slumped back in his chair, unsure how to react. It was surprising, for sure. But, how could he know it was true? Of course he believed Ranboo thought he was telling the truth, he knew Ranboo wouldn’t lie to him on purpose, but his husband did tend to have a bit of a memory problem. Plus, being told your best friend had just eaten his supposedly dead and apparently now tiny older brother was rather…unrealistic.

“You’re su-“ “Yes!” Ranboo shouted, eyes wide and pleading. “I know what I saw, Bo, you have to believe me. Wil’s back and he’s tiny and Tommy literally ate him! I was just going to get Tommy and I saw him grab tiny Wil and he was yelling and kicking and Tommy just- he just- shoved him in his mouth!! And swallowed him whole!” Tubbo sighed. He looked up to his now frantic husband, “Look, maybe you’re right, but don’t you think we’d have seen a tiny Wilbur running around by now then?” “Actually, no.” Ranboo replied. “I think that Tommy, as crazy as it sounds, may be…keeping Wilbur in his…stomach? I don’t know why, but with the right combination of potions it’s probably at least possible. Plus, I heard Wilbur shouting what I think was ‘I don’t want to go back.’ Maybe he was talking about going back…in Tommy?? I mean, it’s probably not the weirdest thing to happen on this server, so why not, right?” Tubbo sat and thought. Everything Ranboo was saying made…a surprising amount of sense. Plus, it would explain Tommy suddenly refusing to eat, and always eating by himself when he was eventually forced to. “Ok, I’ll give you that. But that still doesn’t answer why Wil would be tiny-“ “Ghostbur. Ghostbur was tiny.” Tubbo looked up at Ranboo, the pieces finally clicking in his head. “Dream. He said he could revive the dead. He actually did it. He revived Wilbur. Oh my god, he actually…” Tubbo trailed off, lost in thought, stuck in the memories of his last fight with Dream and all that he had gone through under Wilbur’s direction. Ranboo knelt down to be at eye level with his husband. “You ok?” Tubbo shook his head. “Yeah, fine, but I think we need to talk to Tommy about this.” Ranboo nodded. “How are we supposed to bring this up though?” They thought for a moment before Tubbo’s head shot up, a mischievous, even dangerous glint in his one working eye as he grabbed Ranboo’s hand, gaining his attention. “I’ve got an idea. You get Tommy here in 10 minutes and we’ll have our definite answer.” Ranboo swallowed nervously but did as he was told. He knew better than to say no to Tubbo, especially when he had that look.

****

30 minutes later, Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo were at the cabin in Snowchester, sitting near the fireplace. They had been talking and joking with one another for a while, and though Tommy tried to act care free, his appearance gave him away. His eyes looked more gray against the prominent eye bags that hung just above his sunken cheeks. His skin was grayer and he looked tired and older than any seventeen year old should. Part of Tubbo wondered if it was from the lack of food, rest, or the stress of having a tiny man apparently practically live in your stomach for however long it’d been. “Well,” Tubbo said, standing up and looking back to Tommy, “You came all the way here, I might as well get you something to drink.” “No it’s fine you really don’t have t-“ Tommy tried to argue, standing up to be at eye level with the goat hybrid, but at that point Tubbo was out of ear shot. He looked to Ranboo, who seemed to be just as confused, giving Tommy a shrug at Tubbo’s weird behavior. Before long, Tubbo walked back into the room, holding a steaming cup in his hand. “Here, Tommy! I know it’s a little colder out here than you’re used to, so I made you something!” “I-“ Tommy tried to interject before Tubbo pressed the mug to his lips with no warning, making Tommy stumble back and take a mouthful of the liquid, swallowing it down before he choked. Tommy quickly shoved the mug away shortly after, only now taking in the somewhat concerning faux innocent that painted his best friend’s face. And only now taking in the weird taste of what he’d just drank. “Ugh, Tubbo, what the hell man?! What even was that!” “Oh, sorry if I surprised you there Tom! And sorry, we ran out of cocoa beans a few days ago, so it’s kind of just heated up milk. So sorry if you were using any potions, cause they should be cancelled now.” Tubbo smiled. Ranboo saw what little color in Tommy’s cheeks pale before he pushed past Tubbo and ran into another room. Tubbo simply smiled down at Ranboo, who still sat on the floor. The ender hybrid looked up to him.“You didn’t…” “I did.”

It didn’t take long for the beeduo to find where Tommy had gone. And they had debated on how to approach the situation for a total of three seconds before Tubbo had gotten impatient and kicked down the door, catching Tommy red handed. Literally. Apparently in the few minutes it took for Tommy to drink the milk and realize the affect, Wilbur had been subjected to his stomach acids, giving him an ugly mosaic of burns visible under his torn and melted clothing, blood seeping from the wounds and into the hands of Tommy, who was trying to patch the injuries with bandages that were too big and probably stolen from the chest in the corner of the room. Ranboo gasped at the sight making Tommy freeze in his actions. “I- I can explain-“ “There’s no need for that.” Tubbo calmly interrupted. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, guys, I just- I-“ “Why didn’t you tell us sooner? You’ve been dealing with this all alone?” Tommy winced as he began to slowly get back to focusing on finishing Wil’s bandages. “I thought you’d hate me for it. I know it seems…weird, but…I think I know what I’m doing.” Tubbo walked closer to Tommy, making Wilbur flinch back away from him. “Tommy, I’d never hate you. If you ever need help, just ask me.”

“And what about me, yeah? You don’t care that I’ve been stuck in this idiot’s gut for weeks? It’s just ‘Oh poor Tommy for abusing his big brother and doing this all to himself,’ yeah? Fuck him, help me!” Wilbur shouted. Tubbo looked down at him, seeing that he was clearly trying to act like the biggest person in the room (ironically), while the tear tracks lining his face betrayed his fake confidence. Tubbo looked to Ranboo, who had since moved closer after hearing Wil speak up, but remained silent himself. “Y’know what, Wil? I don’t. You kinda deserve it. Why did you think we wanted Tommy to admit to this, huh? So you could go back to making everyone else’s lives a living hell?” “Admit to it?” Tommy interrupted. “What do you mean ‘admit to it?’” Ranboo cleared his throat, looking away from the group. “I may or may not have seen you swallow him before, and I wanted to know if I was hallucinating or not.” “So you knew I was there!” Wilbur screamed. “You knew right where I was when you gave Tommy the milk! You knew what would happen and you didn’t care!” “N-“ Ranboo tried to deny that he had anything to do with Wilbur’s injuries before Tubbo roughly grabbed him out of Tommy’s hands. “Don’t yell at my damn husband, I’m the only one you should be concerned about right now. And why should I have cared, huh? You couldn’t have cared less about me.” Tubbo held Wilbur higher up to his face, taking in every bit of fear emanating from the man. “Maybe it was finally time for you to get a few burns, huh? So you can know how it feels. Know how I felt while you watched on and did jack shit as I sat awake at night, to scared to sleep and in to much pain to even lie down without upsetting the burns.”

Tubbo looked to Tommy, who had fallen into silence along with Ranboo. “By any chance, do you have any more of those potions that you used to keep him alive in your stomach?” Tommy blinked a few times before actually absorbing the question. “Uh n-no. I didn’t think I’d need any so I didn’t bring them.” “That’s what I thought. Well, I think I have a solution. Tom, do you know anything about goats?” He shook his head. “Well,” Tubbo continued, “goats are herbivores. And I myself can’t even digest anything other than plants. That, and I have four stomachs. So I thinks he’d have plenty of extra room.” Tubbo smirked down at Wilbur, whose face fell after the last sentence. Tommy’s eyes widened. “Wait since when do you have fou- never mind, that not important. You’d be willing to put up with him?” “I don’t see why not.” “I do!” Wil protested, doing his best to fight back against Tubbo’s grip without making his burns hurt worse. “I very much do! Tommy, he literally just tried to kill me! You can’t leave me with him! You can’t let him eat me! Please!!” “Oh, but I think I can, Wil. You’re in there to learn your fucking lesson, and you don’t seem to have learned much from me yet. Maybe Tubbo can teach you for a bit. As long as he’s up for it, of course.” Wilbur paled as Tubbo quietly chuckled behind him. “You know I am. And I’m sure Ranboo’s fine with it, right Boo-“ Tubbo turned around only to see Ranboo missing. How he had missed a seven foot tall Enderman hybrid leave the room was beyond him, but it didn’t really matter. Tubbo just turned around and shrugged before lifting Wilbur higher above his open mouth, ignoring the pleas and screams from the tiny.

****

Ranboo walked along the snow path that he had burned in his memory. No matter how many things he forgot, he doubted he’d forget his way here. He just…couldn’t stay and watch that. There was no way Tubbo would actually go through with…with eating Wilbur. A chill ran up his spine just thinking about it. He hoped he wouldn’t. It just seemed wrong. Wilbur was back, alive and whole again, and Tommy’s first reaction was to keep him trapped, turning his own body into a prison. Ranboo walked faster.

He had always been a firm believer that everyone deserved a second chance. And he knew that Wilbur had done some terrible things, but even if he hadn’t completely changed, he was small now! What could he possibly do? Maybe he was too naive. He hadn’t even met Wilbur before he died, but he sure just made one hell of a first impression. By making the man think that he’s wanted to kill him. Great.

He eventually made his way to a small hidden house deep in the Arctic and made his way up to the front porch, knocking on the door. A few moments later a familiar looking piglin opened it, looking surprised to seen Ranboo. Before he could even ask why he was here, Ranboo spoke out. “Is Phil here? There’s something I really need to tell him.” Techno shook his head. “Just missed him, unfortunately. He should be back in a few days. Want me to take a message?” Ranboo took and deep breath in and sighed.

Tommy was going to kill him.

[writinandcrying]

Should I stay or should I go?

tmnt x reader - Headcanon - PART 1

Link for part 2 - Donnie and Mikey

Pov: for external reasons ( your wifi wasn’t working, renovations in your apartment, hell, the whole building, pipe broke down you have no water for 3 days straight) you had to stay at the lair, it was all fun and games for the first 3-4 days, but routine had caught up with you and the turtles, you have never been that close to them for such long time. Which turtle wants you stay longer, and which one wants their space back?

not all turtles have a crush on y/n ( like, at the same time), but depending on which turtle you are reading, they have the crush on y/n (does that make sense? I hope it does )

Leo

🎏He wants you to stay

🎏( you thought I was going to say leave huh?)

🎏At first when you asked if you could stay some days at the lair he was a little bit... apprehensive? Not anxious per say, but definitely questionated if you would be comfortable, if your routines wouldn’t crash, could be keep up his “host” facade for that long?

🎏He was surprised how quiet you were, I mean, whenever everyone were at table for dinner or at game night you joked along, but during “normal activities” work, reading, studying, just, going through your day, you were so quiet. Did you not feel welcomed at the lair?

🎏Truth to be told you didn’t want to feel like a burden or a problem to them, you were already a new person in their space, so you just kept it to yourself. Took turns in who to ask something for if you need it, ( mostly tried to do stuff on your on) so no one would feel overwhelmed

🎏 Leo doesn’t want you to feel like you don’t belong, so whenever he makes tea, or it’s medication time at the dojo, he asks if you would like to join him, at first you thought it was just out of politeness, (and at first it was) but he insists so much that you give in, at some point you both get used to doing stuff together and like each others company

🎏 He loves his brothers? Yes. Loves spending time with them? Of course! But there are a certain amount of things that he would rather do with you, he feels... more comfortable doing so. Doesn’t feel pressured to put up the leader facade, to be serious all the time. he could be him with you, and there wasn’t many times that he could do that ( with master splinter he could, not all times tho. Lately there was so many foot activity going on that master wanted him to stay focused in almost all of their conversations ) so your hangouts were blissful to him

🎏he doesn’t even realize 4-5 days have gone by, when you finally get a call from your landlord that you can go back, he really wants to ask you to stay some more, not only he felt at ease talking to you, but he never slept better those last few days, for him, knowing that you were “under the same roof”, you were protected inside the lair, made him sleep so profoundly, it gave a sense of security he didn’t knew he craved.

🎏 he doesn’t have the heart to ask you tho. asking you to stay seems selfish of him, you have a life, you belong with the other humans out there, this last days with you made him feel so normal, but with that call it was like a bucket out cold icy water runing on this carapace, you both don’t belong in the same world, it was foolish to think anything like.. a relationship, could work between the both of you

🎏Leo gets so caught up in this intrusive ideas, he closes up. At first you think you did something wrong, everything was just fine minutes ago, but then maybe- just maybe, all of the tea you shared together, the shows you watched and the late night talks, was he just being nice? He didn’t want to spend all of that time with you, did he?

🎏 for the first time since you got in the lair, you felt bothersome, you pack your stuff fast, you don’t want to be a burden no longer, you say your thanks to his brothers and master splinter, apologize for any inconveniences, then when it comes to Leo, the air becomes heavier, it harder to read him, your throat tightens, you don’t know if you should thank or say sorry to him.

🎏 you tell him both

🎏 you walk alone through the sewer, moments before you got asked if you needed to be scorted, “it’s no problem” he assured, Leo was smiling but that were something in his eyes that made you question his words, you made your way as you declined his offer. It was easy to Make yourself believe it was the god awful smell that it was making your eyes water with tears

🎏 for the best days, Leo trained for hours, was harsher on patrol, at home, got more quiet than what he normally was. Everyone noticed, no one commented on it. He missed you, He wanted to you to back so bad, he wanted the late night talks, he endless laughter going on between both of you, but in no way he would tell you so.

🎏 if he only knew you wanted the same as him

Raph

🧨 he wants you to stay, but he also wants you to go... you should go

🧨 don’t get me wrong, he loves the first 2 days you are there, my god. He had never felt so powerful at his own home

🧨Raph LOVES spending time with you, you make him feel like the funniest guy around, likes working out with you, or you just admiring him while he works out, wink wink ;)

🧨 has a lot of pent up tension from watching you workout, or just simply having you watch him train and such ( he is a horny man don’t look at me) and he might or might not think of you a lot... in the shower.. in his bed.. in the middle of the night... He lives for the thrill of you being so near him but would actually DIE if you caught him- Well, u know. Anyways, he lives for your attention

🧨 he lives for it until he noticed how eco-y the lair was, and oh boy he needs to fart. Really Bad.

🧨the reason why raph wants you to go is because he needs to fart? Yes. let me tell you why:

🧨Raph cares a lot about his exterior, specially with his crush is around. in his mind he has a reputation to maintain with you, so yeah, he does NOT want to embarrass himself in front of you, plus he needs to work on mikeys sweater and he hasn’t shown to you that he actually knits ( and it’s very self conscious to do so, will you think less of him for having such a... homey- Grandma material, Hobby?)

🧨 so yes; Raph would rather die than to let it rip next to you, but he wants to so bad oh my GOOOOOOD ( mind you this is crush state, if it was a s/o of long time you will need to deal with the monstrosity that comes from his behind, sorry), when he realizes that farts arent the only thing that needs to be let out he lowkey starts to panic ( no, he did not take a dump while you were there, is raph one of those ppl who has a shy 🍑 when there’s new people are around? That cannot go outside his own home? You bet he is)

🧨he does feel more at peace knowing you are safe and sound while sleeping at the lair like Leo, but when you get a call that you can go back to your home, he is upset... and relieved( won’t show the latter until you are out at the door and he’s running to the bathroom)

🧨 will miss you, your sassy remarks, your ass, your company in general, but will only notice those feelings after reclaiming his space back

🧨Mind you when he left his mighty trone, shit was so clogged, Donnie wanted to kill him ( because obviously he is the one to fix everything around the lair)

🧨for his disdain, Mikey had revived a long lost forgotten nickname from old days: Shit blaster 3000

🧨 (Mikey had to hide for 2 hours from Raph trying to beat up his ass from bringing that name back - which stuck for 2 days, mainly cuz Donnie was so pissed at him he wouldn’t let it go of the name)

🧨 but hey, after that he asked you to stay over a lot more! Slowly he started to show more and more about him, ( the relief he felt when he finally showed you his knit projects and you loved it, he was holding up his breath the whole time) he also loves how more comfortable you got after staying those days with him them, so yeah, feel free to stay over a lot more!

🧨just, don’t stay for long periods of time

🧨 (for donnies sake)

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

I don’t know how I went from soft to sad Leo to sassy and fart ass raph in one Headcanon? Raph Headcanons are always so serious or u know ~sexy~, but honestly he has such comedy potential, anyways- I hope you guys enjoyed it sbfbgjkfkdks, tell me if you want me to do Donnie and mikeys!

[daydreamreality]

So on and off I’ve been writing this super long post on some of my thoughts about Gilmore Girls. And something I wrote made me go, “wow, the evidence against AYITL just being the season ASP didn’t get to do is really stacking up because the two things I can see Jess being around for in season 7 is what he does in the revival except the circumstances with Liz are different.” SO. Hear me out. If the reason we didn’t get a “real” Lorelai/Luke wedding was budget restrictions (I call bullshit, why did we need TWO musical numbers)...well let me take you on a made-up journey of the end of season 7 on the CW with ASP showrunning. Without Netflix freedom and money to throw her unrestricted last hurrah with GG, we get our series finale with a full-on Luke and Lorelai wedding because, well, why wouldn’t this be the ending of the show??

I now realize that getting Luke and Lorelai married in one season after the shitshow that was the end of season 6 might be difficult so let’s just assume this is handled in a mature and healthy way and they’re back and better than ever! Because I honestly didn’t think about that bit when this scene popped in my head and made me go “WHY, it could have happened! And now I need to tell everyone!” And I’m not really in the mood to go about theorizing this AU season 7 in full.

Rory still has to get pregnant but not want to be with the father because ~*fULL cIrcLe*~. The way I can see this happening is Logan goes off to London, their long-distance relationship is a lot rockier, and she eventually finds out that Logan has been cheating on her. OR Logan convinces her they should open the relationship up; Rory is not comfortable with this but is too emotionally invested in him to let him go yet. Either way, the hurt she feels has her breaking up with him for real, is very sad, blahblahblah, and they end up having a “last hurrah” together that gets her pregnant. WHY? Because FULL CIRCLE. 

So we’ve seen Rory break up with Logan for good, she’s pregnant but we don’t know that, and we’ve gotten some sort of “window scene” that shows Jess still has feelings for her. WEDDING TIME. For real this time with family and guests and ceremony! Town square or Dragonfly Inn, take your pick.

Maid of honor and best man start the show. Jess is hilariously nervous because that’s my favorite look on him, ngl. While waiting on Rory to meet him, we get a nice little look between him and Luke of familial love and respect across the room. Jess gets distracted by Rory appearing and his whole face goes soft, and the proud smile on Luke’s face quickly devolves into a smirk because Luke has his number and knows he’s still got it good for Rory. Jess glares. I laugh. Rory is unaware of this moment of amazing communication and is nervous as well, but puts on her best brave face and walks arm-in-arm with Jess in all her beautiful grace.

Now for the actual ceremony, I could never even begin to come up with something as heartwarming and beautiful and hilarious as ASP or a talented fic writer. But I’m gonna throw in the detail that for some reason the officiant they booked can’t get there and Kirk has to step in last-minute because of course he’s an ordained minister. He throws in way too many personal stories and exudes his awkward charm (cut to appalled looks between Emily and Richard), but overall it goes surprisingly well (cut to proud, tears in their eyes like in Lorelai’s Graduation, MY HEART). We also get one little Jess and Rory smile at each other all shy and romantic-like because I wanna see it.

Now we’re at the reception. Rory comes up to Jess all cute and happy, “come dance with me.” Jess is like, why would I do that, blank stare. “It’s tradition.” Super cute innocent smile she knows will get anyone to do anything; Jess is not immune and is already going to say yes but he has to be difficult, Rory knows this.

“What tradition? And why would you think that argument is going to work on me?”

“Best man and maid of honor traditionally share a dance.”

“*rolls his eyes* Your mother is not going to care, and frankly would probably prefer not to have a picture of us dancing.”

“*pulls out the big guns* You owe me for prom.” Not unkindly, clearly in a joking manner. (I KNOW THIS IS A TROPE BUT I LOVE IT OKAY)

Fake hurt, clutches his chest “OUCH.”

The dance starts a bit awkward and stilted, but they slowly relax and enjoy themselves. Jess cannot waltz. Neither can Rory. We’re getting served some serious “Reflecting Light” vibes tho with the shots, set design, and another beautiful Sam Phillips number. The parallels are being thrown in our faces. We LOVE IT. We EAT IT UP.

Jess goes to make the slightest move to bring her in closer when a wave of nausea comes over Rory. She backs away quickly, and Jess does a “did I do something wrong” look/line like after the “Then She Appeared” kiss. She’s got her arm covering her mouth, looks panicked, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” runs out of the party. Luke notices and asks what’s going on. “I don’t know, she looked like she was sick?” “I’ll get Lorelai.”

Lorelai searches for Rory and finds her crumpled on the ground crying, sweaty hair, make up ruined, just completely unraveled. She tried so hard to keep this secret to herself for Lorelai’s big day, but she is too overwhelmed and tired. Lorelai settles in next to her, pulling the hair out of her face, “Oh honey, what’s wrong?” Rory cries harder.

After some good Lorelai hugs, Rory calms down slightly, looks at her mother distraught:

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m pregnant.”

.

.

.

.

IF YOU’RE OUT ON THE ROAD

[ghost1643]

Saiki K corpse bride au

So before we start let me tell you this is a non ship fic for Saiki. It's more like a revival short story about friendship more than romantic relationship.

It is also based off an old AU idea I had of necromancer Shun.

It also works with trans Saiki, which is canon.

~~~~~~💍~~~~~~~

Our story starts when Shun is 8 and the family dog runs out into the road. He doesn't know how when he stops to think about it. He just remembers his baby brother and dog going out to play, then popping his head out to seeing the car hit it.

His brother screams running to their mother leaving Shun to go pick up the poor thing. He slowly takes them into his arms sniffling as he wraps their tiny body up with his own coat to keep his brother from being scared for life.

Shun then sits on the lawn sniffling cradling the dog in his arms. Yet, as he mourns he finds he cut himself on something. Maybe it was the dog's claw. Maybe it was on the road. All he knows it's that his blood dropped on the dogs nose...and suddenly he could feel it's body shifting.

The dogs body shifted back to the way it was before and it wide awake. Just like that he preforms his only revival as his mother comes rushing out. Thankfully when the dog is brought back, sure with a broken leg, but he brought him back. He brought back their dog.

A dog that lived for another 5 years until turning 15 and dying peacefully in its sleep.

He's also revived bugs before. Right after this he found a smushed butterfly and got curious if maybe his dog wasn't really dead...maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

So he pricks his finger and drops some of his blood on the smushed butterfly. The butterfly pops back into its lively form, flying off. He's resurrected a butterfly.

And from there he starts to convince himself that he's the jet black wing, just like in the manga. He's determined to prove that he's got this power for a reason. He has to have them for a reason.

....which comes back to bite him in the butt one day in high school.

~~~~~~~~~💍~~~~~~

So to put it simply ...shun messed up. Let's just say that.

To be honest he should have thought this through more. All he knew was that his friends asked him to come to a Halloween party, and he was determined to prove he was the jet black wing once there. They had been joking about the powers he had told them he had.

"No Shin I can get most of it. Like the magic hand thing I could see how that pops into your head." Aren sighs looking at him. Shun blushed looking down at the campfire as his few friends talked around him about him.

"Yeah, and we can see how you got the whole magic bought thing.." Chisato says leaning back holding a drink in her hand.

"Look I can do the stu-

"We're not saying you can't we just go a big question.Like how did you get necromancy out of it?" Nedō asks looking genuinely curious.

"What do you mean? I've done it before."

"Suuuuureee you have." Aren sighs.

"No I mean it! My brothers dog go hit by a car and I brought him back! And I brought bugs back before! I mean it!" Shun says determined, mainly cause this is on the one thing he knows he can do. He has done it before. It's the one thing that's made him determined to prove he's special.

"We know it's just kinda hard to believe."

"Oh and Reita talking to ghost is easier to believe!" Shun blurts out glaring at the purple haired boy.

"Yeah well I don't claim to be able to bring them back!"

By now other students are seeing the argument and have stopped to watch.

"Look we aren't-"

"NO, NO I am sick of being to butt of the joke! I will prove it to you! I will revive something for you guys! Name anything! Name a single dead thing and I will revive it!" He yells determined to prove himself. He's done with this all. He's gonna prove he's special and not a liar.

"Shun you don't have to. We just wanna know where the idea came from." Aren sighs holding his hand trying to be supportive. To him this is just his friend trying to find a way to explain why he was so ignored as a child.

"No I'll do it! Name one thing! One thing an I will bring it back!"

"Oh we could send him the the corpse forest!" Saiko suggested from the watching crowd. Everyone just looks seeming pale.

You see the corpse forest is an old forest where people have said to been buried after being murdered for years. So they are told not to go there under any circumstance. Like at all.

So yeah, Shun goes with his friends to the forest to prove he cane revive a body. From here things are gonna spiral.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~💍~~~~~~~~~~

Once in the forest the classmates keep looking for a dead thing. And for once they find nothing but a creepy forest.

After a while they go to give up when they find a branch that Nendo is certain is a hand. Yet, to everyone else it looks like an old withered branch. It looks like it has been through hell and is ready to give out. Not to mention Reita hasn't seen a single ghost here so this isn't a dead person.

Regardless of this they have Shun probe his powers. They have him prick his finger on a rock and have a drop of his blood fall onto the corpse. Fro there they wait...some classmates to tell jokes and his friends to be there for emotional support when it doesn't work again.

So they wait

And wait

And wait.

Nothing happens so the jokes dusty coming from the classmates. Ones about the powerful jet black and his skills. Ones that make him tear up a bit, quickly rubbing his eyes getting a tear wiped off his face which also lands on his hand...

And that’s when it happens.

The branch traces up grabbing the person slides to it, which happens to be Saiko. Everyone screams running off except for Shin and his buds. At first some start to try and pry the hands off of him in a blind panic. Then suddenly Shun drops to his knees and starts digging the hand up. No one clues into why until the digging brings up another hand that’s been trying to free itself.

That’s when those who stuck around realize Shun brought back a person. He brought back a dead person who was currently suffocating in the ground.

Needless to say they dig with him just as the hand lets go of Shun. That is except for Nendo. He seems to just be holding the hand that’s above ground now which he explains had been shaking in fear seconds ago.

As they dig they soon unbury a pink haired corpse who is gasping for breath while their body reforms, while shaking for a second. Once they catch their breath they all just sit around for a second wondering what the hell just happened when Nendo speaks up, still seeming to hold the hand, (that is now clinging to him since the corpse is still scared crap less of what they just experienced no matter how much he denies it) speaks up.

“So we’re all buddies with a necromancy..pretty cool...”

~~~~~~~💍~~~~~

The body Shun brought back belonged to Saiki, a young Psyche from the 1800’s, who was killed by a supposed suitor for identify different from his birth gender. A suitor who may or may not have stole Saikis money when he was killed, and may have buried him alive without telling any one of their families. And by bringing him back, Shun has effectively given him a second chance at life..a life with enhanced powers.

Turns out once when a Psychic is revived their powers just jump up and get better. Shun doesn’t know how gut all he knows for sure is when Saiki first described his power to read minds and float an object in the air, he definitely didn’t mention being able to teleport.

Of course they learn this together when Shun moves Saiki into his father’s old abandoned work room which hasn’t been used for year since his dad left. And it takes so readjusting for the both of them. Shun, to have a person in his life who was picked on for being special too and having someone who acts more like a father than his ever did in his life. Saiki, for living in a more accepting time and with new powers seeming to pop up every other day now.

Thankful Shun’s friends are there to help keep the peace and keep everyone happy...and in Nendō’s case get some new people to try new restaurants with.

Either way they’re happy he’s around, and happy to have a new friend.

(This idea may be built upon more later down the line lol)

[thestorytellersapprentice]

Why Do-yeok

I cannot believe I'm writing another one of this "Why" post. I thought it's a one-time thing with Love Alarm... But, here I am. Maybe because just like the previously mentioned Netflix series, Nevertheless causes huge discourse among its viewers. Team Potato and Team Butterfly. Jae-eon and Do-hyeok. Sanctuary or the gravitational pull.

And first off, an important note: my intention by writing this is not to seek any debate with anyone. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions, so here's mine. Feel free to read it or definitely not to read it if you're firmly on Jae-eon's corner and you can't imagine Na-bi with anyone else but him. I just want to sort out my thoughts simultaneously through writing this. And this is gonna be a bit long, I suppose.

So, as the title already declares, I'm Team Potato all the way. And, yep, this means I'm thoroughly on Do-hyeok's side and I want him to be happy because he deserves it. (Still need to see what's in store in the final episode, but I'm perfectly okay with an open ending: Na-bi ends up not choosing anyone but herself, as long as her friendship with Do-hyeok remains intact.)

And this comes down simply because of who Yang Do-hyeok is as a person.

If Do-hyeok is real, then you can bet that I'll date him myself too. At the very least, I'd definitely like to be friends with him.

Why?

Because....

One. His whole vibe is just so....warm and comfortable. We often see Do-hyeok's cheerful sides. He smiles a lot (and boy, Chae Jong-hyeop's smiles are just so endearing, but we're talking about the character here. Ahem.) He's attentive, thoughtful, and open. And he's not only like this with Na-bi. He, by nature, is a very friendly person, as you can see from his interaction with Do-yeon, his cousin, also with Na-bi's friends and the hyeongs in the noodle restaurant that he works at.

And I like it a lot that even just after Do-hyeok confesses to Na-bi and she turns him down, the very next day, they're able to speak with each other normally and just talk about his videos and how she'll watch them and give him feedback. That night, Na-bi also answers his call with a smile on her face. They joke around and not even stopping after Do-hyeok throws her some arguably-cringey-lines (if uttered by other guys and not handled properly). Clearly, Na-bi's very on ease and comfortable with and around him despite everything that has happened.

She even says this on her own: "And most of all, I feel comfortable when I'm with him."

Two. With Do-hyeok, the communication is sterling. Honesty and communication is also very important in a healthy relationship. Your partner isn't a mind reader, so you gotta tell her/him what you feel and think about, especially when you're having a hard time, so you both can work on it together. And our potato guy is the perfect example of openness and honesty.

Even when he's having a hard time, he doesn't lash out (unlike a certain someone), but he communicates it clearly to Na-bi: "I saw you and Park Jae-eon going into your house together. I know I said that I could wait for you as long as it takes. But I felt so jealous."

Do-hyeok also casually throwing lines like: "It's nice to hear your voice. The whole neighborhood seems empty without you." which can be really cringey, but hearing these with Chae Jong-hyeop's delivery = it's just Do-hyeok openly sharing his thoughts. And, again, he's not just like this with Na-bi. That's just the way he is. He openly states his concerns and thoughts to people close to him.

After her first disaster relationship and Jae-eon (who's a master deflector on all personal questions and is truly opaque), IMO someone like Do-hyeok is what Na-bi needs. With Do-hyeok, she never has to guess where she stands. And Na-bi responds to his openness accordingly. She shares her worries and not-so-good moments ("I was spacing out because the critique went badly. I got scolded. This semester is really the worst. I didn't get accepted to the exchange program as well.") And of course, Do-hyeok responds by reassuring and encouraging her.

Three. They begin as friends. Childhood friends, even. And while some may point out that she friend-zones him, I beg to differ. The expression on Na-bi's face when she first sees Do-yeon and hasn't recognizes her is not the expression of someone who sees her just-platonic-friend conversing with a girl. You can practically see the gears in her head turning and she suddenly looks unsure: "Who is that girl talking to Do-hyeok?"

But anyway, iIluminatedquill has written here and here what I want to say and more, so I won't add any more here, other than this: it's my own personal preference as well. I'm just more drawn to romantic relationships which also evolve from friendship. I feel that lust will only get you so far, and the companionship aspect is what makes it long-lasting. (Even in my personal life, my boyfriend is not only my boyfie, he's my friend and partner in crime also.)

Four. Do-hyeok has good and normal relationships with his family. He obviously has good relationship with his Grandpa (judging from the way he's reviving his Grandpa's noodle place until his Grandpa feels better) and is close with his cousin, Do-yeon. While this is based on what's been shown and even though we never see or hear about his parents, I think it's safe to say that Do-hyeok most probably grows up in a loving family and he carries their values with him as he approaches his relationships with people as an adult.

Again, this is mostly personal preference, but as someone who highly value family, for me this is another point for Do-hyeok. I'm not saying that someone with dysfunctional family cannot form loving relationships, but it's what one aspires for.

Do-hyeok cares for people. He takes care of them (e.g. voicing concerns over Do-yeon's plastered hand, preparing umbrella and coffee for Na-bi, etc etc). And, sadly, Jae-eon's distant family background just makes him even more detached and non-committal towards people.

As for Na-bi, she wants to learn from her mother and not following in her footsteps. "I promise myself I would never date while watching my mom." It's heavily implied (and is practically confirmed by her aunt) that her mother dates around as well, and from the one scene we're shown during her birthday weekend, she always feels like her mother neglects her and she's upset about it. So, yeah, Na-bi wants to live differently, and it's clear who's a natural at it already.

Five. I can see them growing together. Yeah, Na-bi's mostly the one who needs to sort out her life, but she also can be a good influence to Do-hyeok. She gives him feedback on his videos (as an example) and he builds upon that.

From Na-bi herself: "I don't want to ever disappoint Do-hyeok." She sees him as such a good guy and always receives things from him. I interpret her line here as her desire to improve herself, to be better. And that's how a good relationship should be, right? It brings out the best out of each other.

That's it from me for now.

I guess some of the points up there can be different priorities for different people, and that's okay. As I've said at the beginning of this post, this is all mine, so feel free to disagree.

To me, Jae-eon is like this very strong gravitational pull: he's sexy, mysterious and very alluring, yet he displays oh-so-many red flags. It's all such a rollercoaster ride with him: very fun and thrilling, yet can also cause you extreme dread.

While Do-hyeok is like a sanctuary. He represents safety, stability and ease. With him, it's like strolling on a park somewhere under the sunshine: things feel warm, pleasant, and cozy.

Na-bi probably still feels the gravitational force of Jae-eon. It's hard to shake off completely on such a short span of time, but I hope she remembers that just like her namesake, she always have her own strength to fly and defy gravity.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 4 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Reader go on their first date. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW 18+) Content Warning: Adults w/ Age Gap (10yr), exhibitionism, masturbation, fingering, spanking, penetrative sex, Prof/Student fantasy Word Count: 8.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

—————————————————

When I was younger, I hated going to museums. Granted, I'd only ever really had the opportunity to go during school field trips. The crackling, barely coherent ramblings of a stranger through a loudspeaker had never been my idea of fun.

In fact, I'd been to that exact museum before. But the present time was a little different. That time, I was enthralled with the objects on the other side of the glass. With wide eyes and childlike wonder revived, I was hanging on every word out of Spencer's mouth.

I knew the guy was probably a genius, but I had no idea how much of a genius he was until he was recounting the entire history of civilization like he'd been reading straight from an encyclopedia. He looked like a hilarious mix of proud and embarrassed when he finally admitted his IQ. Meanwhile, I had to admit that I not only had no fuckin' clue what my IQ was, I was certain it was significantly lower than his. 

He didn't seem to mind.

In a way, I thought it was strange when he told me he wanted to bring me to a place like that. After all, I'd told him I wanted to learn more about him. I figured a museum would teach me about everything else, not him.

But seeing him in this environment told me more about him than I ever could have imagined. I learned about his avid love for the most trivial facts, the way his inflection changed when he got excited, and that despite reading probably hundreds of thousands of books, his hunger for knowledge was still very much alive and well.

Most of all, I learned that Spencer Reid was unlike any man I'd ever seen before.

It was a bad idea. Because when we finally made our way out of the final exhibit, I didn't want to leave. Not even close. If you'd told my mother I spent several hours in a museum and didn't want to leave, she'd never believe you.

"Hey, so..." I started, pausing outside the gift shop on our way out. "It's almost 5. Did you want to grab dinner before we head back? I have worked up quite the appetite listening to you for the past 4 hours."

"Has it really been that long?" he asked incredulously before glancing down at his watch wrapped over his shirt.

I tried very hard, and failed, to suppress a giggle at the habit.

"I'm honestly surprised you still have spit left in your mouth," I joked as I swayed closer to him, almost enough to touch him.

"Ha ha, very funny," he replied. A slight pout formed on his face. I almost enjoyed the swapped roles; it wasn't often that he was the one who looked so forlorn.

"Come on, I'm joking!" I laughed before slipping my arm around his and pulling him closer to me.

Spencer glanced down in surprise, staring at my chest that was now fully pressed against his arm. Although, the way he looked at me was nothing compared to the response he'd given after I showed up in a pleated skirt that better belonged on a Catholic schoolgirl.

But I mean, like I'd said, I used to go there on school trips. It was only fair.

"I love listening to you talk, Spencer. You know that."

The speed with which he looked away when I finished talking was enough to tell me that I had said the wrong thing. His goofy, playful demeanor vanished so quickly, I'd almost gotten whiplash. He didn't remove his arm, instead clearing his throat and pulling out a brochure from his pocket to look at nearby places to eat.

A bit reserved, he asked if I was interested in one of the closer casual restaurants, to which I agreed. At that point, I removed myself from his side and was only a little surprised to see the way his body immediately relaxed.

I wanted to believe he just didn't like to be touched, which I was certain was true, but he was behaving differently with me than he had before. We'd touched in public before, a lot more than that, and we'd known each other a lot less!

But of course, that was probably why. The closer we got, the farther away he felt.

The walk to the restaurant was slightly awkward, so after a moment I decided to break the silence.

"You said you grew up in Vegas, right?"

"Yeah, until I moved to go to school," he explained, looking around at the surroundings of the D.C. crowds winding down rather than turning his attention back to me. 

At least I was finally learning more about him.

"Where did you go?"

"Caltech."

He was keeping his answers short, but I feel like he might still be a little embarrassed at my little jab at the museum. That was fine, I knew ways to make him talk. I clasped my hands behind me as I walked by his side, still tempted to touch him somehow, however ill advised.

"Was it hard being away from your family? That's a few hours away, isn't it?"

He laughed awkwardly, a sure sign that I'd forgotten that him and I come from different worlds.

"Well, I was barely 13, so... My mom was kind of legally obligated to follow me."

He was so cute, and he definitely wasn't aware of it.

"Right, sorry, forgot about the genius thing for a minute. Don't know how."

The smile he returned was genuine, which helped my guilt for bothering him yet again. But in my defense, it was easy to do when he was a literal genius and I was barely scraping by half the time.

As we arrived, we were seated in a booth near the back of the restaurant. I offered him the booth with a view of the door because I'd figured he would want it. He gave me a strange side glance at my assumption, like I was hiding something from him that would grant me the knowledge that it would be more comfortable for him to be able to see the door.

I didn't want to talk about how I knew that, though.

Instead, I asked, "Do you like it here? In Virginia?"

He nodded as he flipped open the menu, speaking almost scripted answers absentmindedly, "I do, but mostly because it's been so long that everyone I know is here."

I'd already been here before, so I didn't bother looking at the menu. Naturally, he'd only required a few seconds to read it. When he made eye contact again, I spoke through my thoughts.

"You said you're a profiler for the..."

"Behavioral Analysis Unit."

His tone was a mix of pride and nerves, which immediately made me nervous.

"I haven't looked it up yet because I'm scared about what I might find. What do you guys do, exactly?"

The server brought us drinks just in time to pause his answer, which he seemed to appreciate. I figured it was either a tough job to explain, or he didn't want to share that part of his life with me just yet (or, potentially, ever). 

Spencer lowered his voice like he usually did when he talked about work.

"We profile the behavior of serial killers. Sometimes for research, but mostly to assist local police in catching them."

"Oh..." I started, stopping mid-sip of my drink. It was a lot to take in at once. "So... yeah, I'm glad I didn't google it."

He scrunched his mouth in that unsure way, like he wanted to explain to me how he really felt about his job. Something in the bags under his eyes told me he hasn't talked about this in a long time. At least, not like he should. But he didn't talk about it. He looked away, opting to say nothing at all.

"Doesn't it get to you?" I pushed, trying to offer him the platform to talk about the thing that no doubt consumes most of his life.

"Does what get to me?" His voice sounded so far away.

"Spencer, when I met you, you were whisked away at the crack of dawn to go talk about serial killers. On a weekend. The second time you showed up at my place after clearly not having slept, I'm guessing straight from work..."

His eyes narrowed as I spoke, like I was talking from a tightrope that I could plummet off any second. He seemed scared that I would speak something into existence he wasn't ready to face himself.

"You're surrounded by evil all the time. You're responsible for learning, recognizing, and manipulating evil. That can't be easy."

Spencer's eyes were glazed over in a way I couldn't describe. He seemed defensive, steeled, and absolutely terrified. He wouldn't look me in the eyes, opting instead to stare down at the menu in front of him.

He shrugged as he halfheartedly concluded, "I guess that's one way to look at it. We also get to see a lot of good."

"Yeah..." I nodded solemnly, recognizing the dismissive thoughts from my own experience.

He was downplaying the great likelihood of traumatic memories he carried, as if he could will away the damage. Like it would stop existing if he could convince himself it wasn't that bad.

I wondered what had happened to him on the job for him to already have forgotten that things didn't have to be the worst possible to matter. That he still deserved better. That hurt does not require permission.

I couldn't stop myself, needing to see how he reacted when I continued, "But which do you see more of?"

I never got my answer. The server once again saved him from a conversation that got away from him. The presence of a third, impartial person shifted the mood back to what it was in the museum. I wondered how much was an act, both back then and in that moment.

Deciding it best not to dwell on the thought, I tried to forget about the darkness brewing in those coffee colored eyes. Once our orders were in, he turned his attention to the cocktail menu still laying in the middle of the table with a smile.

"I'm almost surprised you didn't try to order alcohol," he half-joked.

I leaned forward on the table, bringing a hand up to my mouth and whispering, "I heard there might be an undercover fed here, so, never can be too safe."

The bubbly, childish laugh that followed renewed my faith in him. He had that kind of infectious laugh that made you forget that badness existed at all. Once our ruckus had died down, he looked at me with the softness that had drawn me to him in the first place.

"You're cute."

When the words registered in my mind, I couldn't believe I'd heard them. The way his expression changed shortly after the words left his mouth told me he hadn't meant to say them aloud. But their effect on me was not at all stifled by his momentary lapse in judgment.

I'd wondered if it was getting hotter in the building, or if it was just my nerves getting the best of me. But it wasn't bothering Spencer, who was about to down yet another cup of coffee in front of him. I cleared my throat, trying to not look like a schoolgirl whose crush had just checked 'yes' on a note asking if he liked me.

Pointing to the mug in front of him, I joked, "How do you sleep?"

"Honestly? I usually don't."

That was the goofy overly literal dork I wanted to see more of.

"I can think of one way to wear you out," I suggested, lifting my leg to press the top of my foot against his leg under the booth.

He raised his eyebrows, giving a simple glance down to acknowledge the contact. Then his eyes were back on me, staring deeply with a hunger that would not be satisfied by whatever dish they brought out to us.

"I can think of several."

Humming cheerfully, I continued to run my foot up and down his leg. My cheeks flushed with my growing desire that I'd managed to put off for several hours. I was honestly shocked that I'd spent the whole day with this man, and only then thought about sleeping with him.

"It's too bad we can't," I pouted. "My roommate is back in town. Not sure she'd appreciate all the noise."

That time as my foot drew up his leg, he shifted in his seat so that his legs moved closer to me, extending the contact for a few seconds longer.

"Not to mention, I don't think you'd like to deal with several 20-year-olds."

The way he behaved whenever I pointed out my age was endlessly entertaining. That time, though, he seemed significantly less bothered.

"One is already borderline for me," he teased back.

I gasped, clutching at my chest as I batted my eyelashes just dramatically enough to showcase my pride.

"You flatter me, Dr. Reid."

He almost choked on his coffee as he stifled a chuckle, putting it down as he shook his head.

"Only you would take that as a compliment."

Recognizing this repartee as the foreplay it had always accompanied, I leaned forward on my elbows towards him. He immediately mirrored the movement, putting our faces much closer to each other than they'd been all day.

"What can I say? I enjoy being a challenge."

"Yes, you do." He hadn't even thought about it, responding almost instantaneously, suggesting once more that he could actually read my mind.

"How are you so good at that?" I kept the question vague on purpose.

He didn't fall for it.

"I'm good at a lot of things. Which are you referring to?"

What a cocky bastard. A very handsome, ridiculously sexy, dork of a bastard.

But he wasn't the only one at the table that knew how to get someone hot and bothered.

"Your humility is my favorite part, Dr. Reid." I stuck my tongue out at the end of the sentiment, a cheeky grin that reflected on him just as quickly.

"Quoting me? That's bold."

Deciding it had been too long since I had touched him, I lifted my hand to press a single finger against his chest as I taunted, "You aren't the only person with a good memory."

He leaned back at this point, backing away from my finger and the heated exchange.

"I don't have a good memory. I have an eidetic memory."

He had been very proud of that fact earlier when I asked him why the hell he was able to list off every single word from a museum display we'd seen an hour earlier. I'd asked him if it was the same as a photographic memory, and he'd gone on a rant about the pejorative connotations of the term. I wasn't going to go down that rabbit hole again today.

Instead, I took the same hand that had touched him moments before, curling all but one finger into a fist.

"So you'll be able to remember this forever?" I cooed as I held up my middle finger.

"I'll just file that away with the most important memories, like birthdays and the works of Arthur Conan Doyle," he sighed in response, graciously admitting defeat.

I was not brave enough to tell him I had no idea who that was, but I was sure I'd learn one day. That one, I thought, was probably safe to google. While he filed away my crude gesture, I filed away yet another fun fact to surprise him with later.

"You are, by far, the most interesting person I've ever met," I implored, to which he immediately shot back, "I could say the same about you. And I regularly talk to serial killers."

Touché, Dr. Reid.

"I'm flattered," was the last word I got in edgewise before our food arrived.

The rest of our time in the restaurant went very similarly, with teasing comments that built the sexual tension that was already too big for this tiny room. Our legs never stopped touching throughout the entire meal. Maybe that was why, when it was finally time to leave, we both felt a strange mixture of excited and sad. Once we were no longer behind the booth, it was back to pretending like we weren't constantly trying not to pounce on the other.

The walk to the metro was equal parts long and tense. At one point I'd swayed closer to him than I intended, and our sides brushed up against one another. Unlike before in the museum, he hadn't moved away. I couldn't believe something so minuscule could made me so happy.

The metro was more crowded than I'd anticipated. The fact that the station is underground was usually enough to make me feel a little claustrophobic, but the number of people bustling around me felt especially overwhelming. I couldn't help but chastise myself for having worn a skirt, considering the stark number of perverted men in places like these.

Spencer's touch woke me from my reverie. His arm had wrapped around my lower back with such unassuming delicacy, I'd hardly registered it at first. He was looking down at me with concern covering his features as he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sorry, there's a lot of people here."

I had one hand holding my skirt down against my leg, the other crossed over my chest.

"Makes me nervous," I further explained.

"Can I help?"

Even though he was offering, I could tell the crowds bothered him just as much. Thankfully, his presence was enough for me.

"You already are."

There was something so calming about his presence that was hard to explain. It wasn't his ability to physically protect me, considering he didn't  have his weapon with him most of the time I was with him. It wasn't his emotional availability (or lack thereof). It was more like he  exuded some chemical that made me docile. It was hard to explain.

I just liked him, okay?

When our train pulled in it was relatively crowded, but we managed to grab two seats near the back of a car. I sighed in relief as I plopped down into the plastic chair, happy to finally be able to rest my legs.

With Spencer on the aisle seat and us on our way back to Franconia Springfield Station, I let myself relax. My head dropped down onto his shoulder without much thought, and my entire body slumped over with it.

"How am I supposed to stay awake for this when you're so comfy?" I mumbled, looking down at the hem of my pleated skirt as I fiddled with it.

"That certainly sounds like quite the predicament," he said in what I assume was jest.

He sat up, bumping my head off his shoulder for a moment. I interpreted it to be a subtle way of telling me not to do it, but once he had shrugged off his cardigan, he looked at me like he was confused I hadn't resumed the position.

Armed with a simper, I cuddled up even closer this time, wrapping my arms around his and resting my cheek against his shoulder. I wasn't sure why he had gotten so open to touch, but I wasn't going to complain. 

He didn't say anything when he draped his cardigan over my lap, covering my knees peeking out from under my skirt. A nice gesture, I thought as my body instinctively gravitated towards him. It wasn't until I closed my eyes that the pieces started to come together.

I was on the metro, in a skirt, with Spencer Reid's hand slowly but surely inching up my thigh.

My eyes shot open, and I tensed my grip around his arm. It was the only thing I did to betray my otherwise composed and unassuming position.

His breath was hot on my ear as he leaned over to me and began to whisper, "Do you know the idea that people fall asleep after sex is less true for women than men? Many speculate it's because women are just neglected in bed, but that's not quite it."

I didn't dare respond, hardly trusting myself to breathe as his hand continued to move closer to me.

"Both sexes do release the same chemicals during orgasm. Oxytocin to stimulate smooth muscle contraction and initiate the need to bond, prolactin to relieve arousal and signal satiation, and the leftover gamma aminobutyric acid, dopamine, and serotonin..."

I couldn't understand how he'd managed to make the lecture sound sexy, but I was too lost in the sound of his voice to bother thinking about it then.

"Still, women are less likely to fall asleep. Sure, they typically exert less physical energy during sex, but what about those women like you with a penchant for going for a ride?"

A woozy, lovesick smile spread across my face at the reference to our first encounter.

"Those women might still stay awake for longer and may actually be more invigorated after reaching climax. And it's all thanks to their naturally lessened refractory period."

I nodded dumbly, gasping lightly once I felt his fingers make contact through the flimsy cotton of my underwear.

"Which might sound like a curse. But it's not. It means that those lucky women can reach multiple orgasms in succession. Some partners just aren't willing to put in that kind of effort," he continued, tracing a finger up and down my folds through the fabric.

"But I'm not one of them."

His words were strong, and I buried my face into his shoulder, trying not to alert the entire car what was happening underneath his cardigan.

"I would much rather watch you come undone. Again, and again, and again. I want to make sure that when I'm done with you, you can't keep your eyes open."

My breath was getting quicker, and I let out a small squeak against his shirt as he pressed down on the bundle of nerves at my center, drawing circles around it.

"That being said, if you need something to keep you awake, I do have a solution. But if you make a single noise, I will stop."

I had to bite down hard on my bottom lip to prevent any noise from slipping out. My legs were wavering between opening and closing as I tried to keep them apart. I could feel how damp I was getting. My hips were moving with a mind of their own, rocking toward his hand. It took all of my concentration not to give us away.

I choked on my breath as a sly finger snuck into the side of my underwear, allowing entrance to the others that followed.

"Shhh," he hushed, pressing a soft kiss on the top of my head. Underneath my skirt, though, he was much less chaste. Slipping two fingers into my heat, I could have sworn I heard him laugh from above me.

I didn't dare look at him, nervous that the moment I did, I would lose all control.

"I had no idea it would be so easy to get you to follow directions. Are you that worried you might get caught?"

He could feel my heartbeat against his arm. He must have been able to, because I was suffocating against his arm. My hands clenched around him like he was the only lifeline in an ocean of pleasure.

"Imagine what they would think if they knew what you let me do to you. What you beg me to do to you."

My legs were beginning to tremble around him as he stroked me from the inside. All I could feel was him. His hands, his breath, his words.

"Is that why you wore this skirt? A naughty little schoolgirl fantasizing about an older man touching you like this?"

He quickened the pace of thrusting into me, his words getting more insistent as the train was almost empty now, closing in on our stop.

"Is it everything you thought it would be? No. Can't be. You wish there was something else of mine in between your legs."

I couldn't explain how, but my climax snuck up on me. When it happened, it smashed into me like a wave crashing onto the shore. I gasped for breath against his arm, and he thankfully took mercy on me. Despite definitely making a noise, he continued his motions, palming at the crest of my folds to give me one last boost of stimulation.

I shook around him, my thighs tightening onto his arm as I finally found release. I could hear the announcement calling for our station, but it felt worlds away. Still, Spencer pulled his hand out from underneath our pile of clothes, wiping the evidence of our escapade against the inside of my skirt before also removing his arm from underneath my tight grip.

"Son of a bitch," I puffed, relaxing all my muscles at once as I tried to retain control over my pulse. I could barely think straight.

"You're welcome," he beamed, as if he hadn't just gone full dominant as he finger fucked me on the metro.

I didn't understand how the hell he expected me to get up and walk off like nothing happene, but somehow, I managed. I stood with wobbly legs and a flustered state of mind until he linked his arm with mine and led me off the car and into the station. I clung to the assistance, grateful that he was once again taking pity on me.

However, it felt like it wouldn't last long. Once we'd gotten to his car, he helped me in before climbing into the driver's seat. It was silent for a moment, like he wanted me to ask him a question that I wasn't willing to ask.

I didn't want the night to be over, but if he asked me if I was ready to go home, I'd have to say yes. After all, it wasn't proper form to invite myself to his apartment. Especially with how weird he got whenever I got close to him.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

The pity was gone.

I didn't think before I spoke, immediately responding as a joke, "Not unless it's yours."

The silence was back.

Oops.

I realized that I'd spoken out loud at the same time he delivered his response; I was going to stop him, but he was too quick.

"My place it is, then."

I couldn't help but smile, my cheeks burning as I asked quietly, like my volume might change his mind, "Really?"

"Sure, why not?"

I didn't have an answer. We didn't talk for a moment, enjoying the contented silence as I texted my roommate to tell her that I was going to be late home, if I came at all. I was hoping for the latter. Once that was sent off, I returned my gaze to the man paying almost full attention to the road.

"You know, I have to get you back for what you did back there."

He smirked, not breaking away from the road as he replied, "I did you a favor."

"A cruel favor," I whined, turning in my chair as I buckled my seat belt so I could get closer to him.

"No such thing," he corrected, although I think we both knew there very well could be such a thing.

"Uh-huh."

I watched him for a moment, trying to decide the best way to get back at him. I could always try the most relevant payback...

He didn't even notice my hand reaching out until it was already sliding up his thigh at a rapid pace.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as if it weren't already obvious.

"Getting you back," I snickered as I finally made it up his leg, palming the quickly forming erection under his pants.

"I'm driving!" His voice was so high pitched it was heartwarming. It was like our roles had switched, even just for a second.

"I'm not stopping you from driving!"

Obviously trying to compose himself, he grabbed my wrist and held it in the air and out of reach of him.

"Unless you want to crash this car, you'd better wait until we get back to my place."

It was a valid warning, but not one I wanted to hear.

"Spoil sport."

"At least you're alive!"

It was back to the sexual tension from before in the restaurant. I wanted to touch him, and I was guessing based on the visible tent in his pants, he wanted me. So, I got to thinking, and I figured that if I wasn't allowed to touch him, that only left one other person.

"... What are you doing?"

It was a valid question. He'd glanced over to see my hand traveling up my own skirt as I parted my legs just enough to maneuver beneath my underwear.

"Nothing," I hummed, now looking at him with half-lidded eyes as I rocked forward onto my hand.

"That's cruel." He sounded so devastated to see that I was doing what he couldn't, despite the fact he had his hand in this exact spot not that long ago.

My fingers dipped between my folds, collecting the remnants of the orgasm he had given me as I crooned, "What? You said I couldn't touch you while you're driving. I'm not touching you. You're welcome."

I opened my eyes just enough to see the way he tightened his grip on the steering wheel while trying not to look at me. Couldn't drive distracted. That was the entire reason why I was touching myself and not him.

"Unless, of course, you do consider this part of me as your property. In which case, I'm not going to stop, anyway," I snickered. 

Rewarding myself with a soft moan, I tried to prolong the experience the best I could. It was hard when every couple of seconds he would look over at me. I hadn't thought that I would find his anger that attractive, but there I was, coming apart at the seams already based on nothing but a look. 

He was thoroughly unamused, which only egged me on, honestly. I didn't care if I was being overdramatic as I touched myself, I wanted him to think about what he was missing. Which was why I didn't stop myself from moaning. Pants and gasps echoed throughout the car as I picked up my pace.

"I hope you're ready for the consequences of this very poorly thought out decision."

On the contrary, Spencer. I had very clearly thought it through. I was thinking it so clearly I could picture his hands where mine were, among other parts of him.

Thinking about how to dig an even deeper hole for myself, I found the perfect mechanism.

"Mmm, Professor Reid," I cried, recognizing that it would either infuriate him or bring him a great sense of pride. I was fine with either.

I closed my eyes so I could better envision the fantasy that was actually just a memory. For now. With my eyes closed, I couldn't tell much of what was going on outside of my touch, trying to ignore the man beside me as best as I could. I wanted him to suffer.

Spencer, however, had other plans. With both eyes still on the road, his hand had found its way to my legs, where it shot up to join mine. He removed my hand quickly and replaced it with his own.

There was no subtlety or warm up this time. Without any hesitation, he dipped a finger into my heat just to remove it and begin rubbing harsh circles over my clit. I couldn't stop the yell that resulted, and seconds later I came undone against him.

As soon as the spasming stopped, he removed his hand, not speaking a word or even looking at me. I'd realized at that point that he'd only finished me off because he hadn't wanted to grant me the satisfaction of doing it myself. He was asserting that yes, in some sense, he viewed this as a part of his property.

I was oddly okay with that.

"Is the silent treatment my punishment?" I asked with a pout after a few moments of nothing.

He laughed bitterly back, finally looking at me for a moment before vaguely replying, "No. Your punishment will be much more fun for me."

I had to admit the implication that the silent treatment wasn't fun for him was flattering, at least. I was glad to hear that he enjoyed talking to me as much as I enjoyed listening to him talk.

But for the moment, I was sort of exhausted. Not in the way that would make me fall asleep, but in the I-just-had-two-orgasms-let-me-recoup way. Even though we enjoyed talking, those moments were refreshing in their own way. The best kind of connections were the ones that could always be maintained, even in the quiet.

Despite it not being my punishment, Spencer remained fairly quiet the rest of the way home. I wondered if part of that was due to him brewing a plan for what would happen when we got there.

God, I hoped so.

As we pulled up to the nondescript building, I had to admit I was a bit disappointed to find Spencer didn't live in some whimsical fantasy like I'd always envisioned. The building looked like every other one. But, at the same time, I couldn't want to see the inside. If I had to bet, there would be a lot of books and a stark lack of computers.

Walking into Apt #23, I was only a little surprised by what I saw. The warm green tones of his walls were complimented by red and brown accents, and my theory was quickly proven correct.

"Whoa," I mumbled under my breath, "It's like a library."

"You must go to some pretty small libraries, then."

I rolled my eyes. Like his usual attempts at humility, Spencer failed horribly.

I spun around on my heels to face him, but at the same time as I heard the lock flip into place, I felt his hand around my arm. Spencer's movements were quick as he gripped tightly on my wrist and pulled me towards what I could only assume was his bedroom.

Weirdly, I was still trying to take in my surroundings rather than focus on fucking him. It made sense, I figured. I had already experienced two orgasms today, whereas he had none.

Oops. Guess I really was a spoiled brat.

But seriously—I was in his apartment! I wanted to snoop, dammit!

Spencer wasn't going to give me an opportunity, though. He'd even made a point of shutting the door to his room once we were inside. Something told me he would keep a close eye on me as long as he could. That was probably deserved, considering that within the first few hours of interacting with him, I had answered a call from his boss.

In my defense, it had been fucking hilarious.

He led me to stand in front of him, and out of instinct and habit, I moved forward to kiss him. I never made it to his lips, though. Spencer pushed me aside toward the bed, and I laughed as I leaned over it, making a point of flipping up the back of my skirt.

"I've been bad, Professor," I giggled, turning to glance back at him from the position I had happily assumed without being told.

He had that dark fire in his eyes that usually came before a storm.

He looked like he was ready to break me. I was ready to be broken.

"Are you going to teach me another biology lesson?"

When his hands touched me, they were as tender as ever. He caressed my hips where I had turned the skirt up, hooking his fingers around the waistband of the underwear and casually removing them.

"No, I'm afraid not."

He sounded delighted despite the words he spoke.

"This will be a very different kind of lesson."

Oh, I realized all at once.

"A lesson in discipline?" I inquired, swaying my hips underneath his hands and waiting for confirmation.

The loss of his hand on one side caused anticipation to build. I could hear the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

It was hard to tell which happened first. Instantaneously, his hand came down hard on the soft skin of my backside as he responded, "Yes."

The adrenaline that coursed through my veins in response shook any feelings of fatigue I might have sustained throughout the day. I welcomed his body heat against my back as he leaned forward against me, and used his weight to press me down into his bed.

"Unless you've changed your mind."

"No!" I shouted back much too forcefully before gripping onto the sheets in front of me. "I deserve to be punished, Professor Reid."

He withdrew from me and, within seconds, brought his hand down on me again, that time striking the other side. The snapping sound of the contact was enough to elicit a response. I clamped my legs together and gave a soft mewl. Appreciating my vocal response, the next two hits came in rapid succession. I could feel the warmth building in the skin, the breeze from the motions acted as a buffer for the delicious sting.

He roughly grabbed both cheeks in front of him, for no reason other than wanting to. I groaned at the sensation of the tender flesh being handled, which only led him to release one to smack it once more. He followed with the other, appreciating the balance required of this particular punishment. I wasn't going to stop him. I was happy to continue. But something told me that he was breaching the point of comfort in his own conscience.

He was always so worried he would break me. I couldn't say it wasn't endearing. That didn't stop him from giving each side one more forceful blow, however, which earned him a mangled cry from deep in my chest. His body was against mine again, one of his hands reaching around to tilt my head up, despite not being able to see him. I was beginning to think he just enjoyed manipulating my body at will. To see how far I would let him.

"I think you're starting to get it, (y/n)."

"Yes," I responded, not caring if it didn't make much sense in response.

Despite the fact he'd already finished me twice today, I somehow already wanted him again. Maybe it was the allure of finally being able to fuck him in his own bed, or maybe it was the desire to see him fall apart as a reminder that I'm not the only one desperate for the other's touch.

So quickly he returned to the gentle, barely there traces along my skin.

"Punishment looks good on you," he praised, and something about the way he said it filled me with pride.

"You look good on me, too, sir," I slurred as he continued to draw feathery markings on the abused skin. He chuckled, finally moving up along my back before I interrupted his thoughts and appreciation once more.

"Fuck me," I begged. I wanted him and didn't care how I got it. "Let me help you feel good."

The hands that had inflicted pain moments ago were now gently massaging my shoulders through my top. I sighed, relaxing further into his touch. So easily I had become complacent to his desire. I let him do whatever he wanted, trusting that he would never do anything to truly, honestly hurt me. 

"Something tells me you're more interested in making yourself feel good," he asserted — quite correctly.

"Can't we have both?"

His silence told me he was considering my words. I knew that he didn't want to, since that would ruin the whole idea that this was a punishment in the first place. Then again, I didn't think he was fully committed to that idea anyway.

Dragging his hands once more down the plane of my back, he stopped to grip my hips and shift me backwards until I was pressed against him.

"You're lucky you look so fucking cute in that skirt," he growled.

I felt dizzy again already, drowning in the way his bed smelled like him.

"Mmm, I wore it just for you," I admitted, rubbing myself gently against his crotch now pressing into my bottom.

"Smart girl," he responded.

It felt like I was in a dream, to be there with him like that. For a long time, I'd thought I'd never see him again, let alone be laying on his bed.

I could hear him stripping behind me, and I peeked over my shoulder with a modest smile.

Time was not moving fast enough, I thought, but it was also moving too fast. Because as badly as I wanted him to ravish me, I was afraid what would happen when it was over.

I couldn't think about that in that moment, though.

Once he reached into his nightstand, I giggled with anticipation. He raised his eyebrows at me, unable to contain his own laughter.

"Oh, you're happy with yourself, huh?"

"A little bit, yeah."

When he returned to me, his hands were still gentle as they pushed my skirt back up where it had fallen. He revealed my body to himself, and I didn't have to be able to see it to know that my arousal spread down my inner thighs. I had, after all, already had two orgasms before now thanks to the man behind me.

"I'm also pretty happy with you," he whispered as he leaned over me.

With no warning, he fully entered me with one swift thrust. I whimpered at the feeling of him hitting against angered skin, mixed with the pleasure of being full once again. I clutched at the sheets and wished that they were him, wishing that I could somehow be even closer to him than I already was. 

"We'll see if you still feel like smiling after I'm done with you."

It was the last thing he said before he began to ruthlessly pound into me. I struggled to scream as loudly as I wanted to, but I couldn't make any noise at all. My body seemed to have relented all control to him within seconds; I didn't put up a single battle. Although his grasp held me in place, I still attempted to cant my hips forward to allow him better access.

My chest and face were warm with friction from rubbing against the bed, and my knuckles were blanched from the force exerted to try and remain grounded. Each movement seemed so purposeful, much like the way he thrashed at my skin with his hand.

"Fuck me," were the first words I managed to string together.

With one forceful thrust, he held me down on him as all the moans I couldn't make previously came pouring out of me. I thought I might actually cry from how overstimulated the day was  becoming. Seemingly reading my mind, Spencer pulled out of me entirely. I tried to reorient myself, but he stopped me. Using one hand to grab hold of my arm, he flipped me onto my back beneath him.

I hadn't even realized I was still wearing basically all of my clothes until he had to force my skirt back up again. Missing him between my legs, I began to crave him everywhere else, too. I struggled to pull my shirt over my head.

Spencer didn't stop me, just watching while he playfully rubbed his arousal at my entrance.

"Please, sir," I pleaded once I was finally able to lift my legs. I wrapped them around his hips and pulled him closer to me without letting him slip into me just yet.

"Just as impatient and needy as ever, (y/n)."

I chewed on my bottom lip, looking up at him with the puppy dog eyes that had always worked on him up to that point. It must have worked again, because he was sinking back into me before I knew it. My arms spread out across the bed, holding onto whatever I could reach as he set another brutal pace.

Our bodies melding together in a chaotic fusion of skin and fluids, I let myself get lost in the bliss of Spencer Reid laying claim to my body. I threw my head back, my eyes clamped shut as one of his hands came up to caress one of my breasts through my lacy bra.

"With undergarments like this, I have to wonder if you planned this all, young lady," he teased, no doubt referring to the matching underwear now discarded on the floor.

I opened my eyes to meet his, and for a second I was left breathless at the sight of him pumping into me. How I managed to say anything at all is a miracle.

"Never a plan, sir. But always a pleasure."

A flirtatious sparkle in his eyes, he slowed down as he pressed, "Did you wear them for someone else, then?"

The way I arched my back caused him to push even further into me, and I had to pause to moan before I continued.

"Are you jealous?"

His hips snapped forward, producing a simultaneously jolt of pain and pleasure. His voice was breathy as he tried to hold himself together while speaking, "Should I be?"

Our eye contact caused tension so powerful that I was certain it was palpable. A devilish grin and a bit of a snicker was the provocation he needed to drive into me harder once again. I didn't even try to suppress the noises he elicited from me, tightening my grip around him with my legs.

"Take me," I whispered under my breath, almost hoping that he wouldn't hear me.

I couldn't tell if he did, but his hand switched sides of my chest, and our faces grew closer together.

"I'm yours," I slurred. I truthfully hadn't thought about the words when I gifted them to him, but he clearly took note of them. That time, it was his moan that filled the air in the room, and I had never felt so excited by one of his responses. I chased after the feeling, locking eyes with him as both his hands grabbed my hips to begin the race to the finish.

"I'm yours, Spencer."

I didn't stop to wonder if I could play this off as part of the fantasy. I mean, it was part of my fantasy; the fantasy of being his, and him being mine.

He didn't object to my words then, either, and he had definitely heard me that time.

I smiled, barely noticing that he'd placed his fingers back on my heat, swiping frantically at my clit until I lost all composure underneath him. My hips rocked at no apparent rhythm, and distorted versions of his name broke through my mouth.

I hadn't even come down yet when he rammed into me with full force, bottoming out once again. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, followed by my muscles pulling everything out of him that they could.

The view of his satisfied face through my lust-filled daze was angelic. It appeared that he saw the same in me, but I couldn't be sure. Just as quickly as the moment had come, it had passed, his arms giving in to his weight as he collapsed onto my chest.

His hair tickled my collarbones, and I laughed at how incredibly out of shape he was. Especially for an FBI Agent. Even if he did go on the field often, I figured the resident dork didn't need to be totally ripped, anyway.

And, hey, he was strong enough to treat me like a ragdoll, so who was I to judge?

"Tired?" I asked, taking a shaky hand to his head, playing with the soft brown curls damp from sweat.

"You aren't?" he slurred, his words smothered against my skin.

"I am fucking exhausted."

That time, we both laughed. He was clearly pleased that, despite any perceived weakness, he was still able to thoroughly wear me out. When he moved to leave me, I dropped my legs. I was surprised I had managed to hold them until then, honestly.

He fixed his hair that had fallen in his eyes first, and I smiled at the peculiar priority. It was cute, though.

"Do you have to take me home?"

I tried not to let the disappointment bleed into my voice, but it did. He tried not to notice. He didn't answer as he cleaned himself up, and I sat up to look at him — once the world stopped spinning, anyway.

"No."

The butterflies spiraled out of control, spreading through every inch of my soul. I must have been beaming, because he looked so very nervous.

"Thanks."

His response came in the form of an unsure smile, followed by a genuine appreciation.

I briefly wondered if he realized just how transparent he was, but then decided I didn't want to think about it. I excused myself to clean up before bed, taking a long moment to rub my skin with aloe from under the cabinet, only to realize that I had basically nothing clean to wear. I rolled my eyes at the situation, wondering how many red flags it would set off for me to ask Spencer for some of his clothes.

I could just be naked. He seemed to like me that way.

I padded back into the room, expecting him to be waiting up for me. He wasn't. Spencer had passed out on the bed before he even had a chance to get under the covers. I stood at the door for a moment, trying to appreciate the value of this quiet moment while I still could.

Stripping off my clothes as quiet as possible, I was careful not to wake him. However, that also meant I couldn't climb under the covers, either.

It isn't exactly snooping if I'm looking for something innocent, right? That's what I had to tell myself, regardless. Because I was not going to freeze my ass off over a hookup's paranoia. Glancing at the dresser, I almost convinced myself it wouldn't be an invasion of privacy to open it. Luckily, I didn't have to. Directly next to it was a hamper of clean, folded laundry, with a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt on top. While disappointed that I had lost my excuse, I was grateful I had stripped myself of the choice.

He deserved better than me trying to pry into his life like that.

Slipping into his clothes, I stopped to hug myself in the soft fabric. With him asleep, I felt comfortable taking a moment to revel in the position he'd allowed me to exist in. I was in his apartment, in his clothes, and I would soon be back in his arms.

For now.

I chased the inevitable end out of my thoughts, slinking onto the bed and shimmying over to him until his hands found me in his unconscious state. I faced him, my hands pressing softly against his chest to feel his heart happily working under my touch.

His eyes fluttered open for a second, just long enough to see the wonder in my own. A smile crept along his cheeks, and he wrapped a lazy arm around my waist.

I wondered if he recognized his own clothes, or if he even realized this was real. Then again, the alternative was him assuming that it'd all been a dream... and it was a pleasant one, it seemed. 

"I'm happy," he confirmed in a hushed tone.

My heart almost stopped, and I peeked up at him, inching up so I could better see his face. His breathing evened back out as I felt the way he relaxed, quickly retreating back to the comfortable embrace of sleep.

"About what?" I whispered back.

Our legs twined together, and a soft sigh left his lips. I waited with bated breath  for his response, although I don't think I could have ever been prepared for what followed.

"I'm happy that you're mine."

... What?

 —————————————————

| Part 5 |

[forabeatofadrum]

Paradiso 8 aka the one where *Simon* punches Gabriele D’Annunzio

Summaty: Again, what the title says, loves.

As always 😘 to @martsonmars. A sequel to Paradiso 6  aka the one where Baz punches Gabriele D’Annunzio. Where is Paradiso 7 you might ask? Great question!

--

2048

SIMON

“Three time’s the charm,” Rosemary casts. Her necklace is dangling from her hand, since Rosemary found out that that makes channeling her magic easier. (It does look more comfortable than her craning her neck all the time.) 

The spell hits Baz and he shudders.

Great.

“Are you sure about this, love?” Baz asks me.

“You started it!” I say back.

“Dads, please,” Rosemary rolls her eyes. She once again looks like she’s regretting this. At least this time, Baz and I were very upfront about our plans. My plans. 

My plans to revive Gabriele D’Annunzio again.

Rosemary then pointed out that this will be the third time that Baz will bring this guy back from the dead, so she decided to cast a Three time’s the charm on him to make his spellwork better. She’s dropped all pretenses of academic interest. She’s upfront about the fact that she wants to see this unfold. She’s only a bit annoyed by my reasoning behind this plan.

I need this to work.

Jealousy isn’t my strongest suit. I know this is petty and unreasonable. I can handle Baz joking about D’Annunzio being his good friend, but I draw the line at Baz calling D’Annunzio ‘the love of his life’, even when it’s in jest.

So, now I am the one punching him.

“Alright, Snow?” Baz asks me again.

I nod. Rosemary sighs and I hear her mutter “I never should’ve moved to Pescara” under her breath.

Baz points his wand towards the floating book in front of him. The book is showing the same photo of D’Annunzio like before. 

“La morte una cosa che non si pu fare due volte,” Baz casts and yeah, D’Annunzio really changed this by dying three times already. We’re adding a fourth one.

Is this ethical?

Probably not, but I need to do this.

Like the previous two times, a red spark bounces off the book onto the floor. The spark grows and slowly morphes into a human form. I know what’s coming next, so I look away. I am not a vampire, so I cannot handle this burst of light, but my husband and daughter have already described this ‘portal’ in great detail for me.

When the light dies down, a very alive Gabriele D’Annunzio is standing in our lounge. He’s befuddled.

Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for us, D’Annunzio doesn’t remember the other two revivals, so I get a kick out of asking “Signore D’Annunzio?” with a mischievous smile.

He looks confused and slightly afraid, but he eventually nods.

He’s about to say something, I take one step towards him and punch him in the face. 

“Lui è mio marito. He’s mine!” I yell for good measure.

Rosemary knows it was coming, but she still lets out a surprised grunt and Baz slaps his forehead.

Before D’Annunzio’s mind fully catches up with what the fuck just happened, Baz points his wand and at him and quickly say: “Uomo morto non fa guerra!”

The three of us watch how D’Annunzio pops out of existence.

“Did that feel good?” Baz asks after a small beat of silence.

I nod. I breathe heavily. I had no idea how intense this would be for me.

Did I ask my husband to temporarily revive an Italian poet who died in 1938 just to punch him because of petty, unreasonable jealousy? Yes, I did. It definitely felt good.

“Oh mio dio,” Rosemary sighs, “At this rate we’ll have to revive him again so that I can punch him.”

Baz and I share a look.

Rosemary notices and her eyes widen.

“Oh, no, no, no, dads, this is not happening,” she says. She turns on her heel and walks out before we can persuade her to do it.

Baz shrugs.

“We’ll keep it in mind.”

I nod.

“Yes, this is basically a family tradition. One day, Rosemary will punch him as well.”

“Can’t wait for it.”

--

End notes: You’ve heard of our good friend Jonathan Harker, so meet our good friend Gabriele D’Annunzio. This man keeps popping up everywhere, so when Marta joked that Baz calls him “the love of his life”, this happened.

Also, Marta, I hope that Google Translate was accurate with the basic bitch Italian phrases, since I didn’t want to ask you and spoil the (hopeful) element of surprise.