#awe i hope this anon somehow finds this lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taegularities · 4 months

Text

colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)

Summary: You're the flower blossoming in Jungkook's living room, no matter how relentless the rain. And you're the sun he tirelessly orbits — warm as a home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; hints of angst, fluff overload, suggestive ➳ warnings: full jk pov!, fluff fluff fluff, but also crying, bits of insecurities, mommy and daddy issues, their friendddsss <3, oc's favourite blanket smells like him <3, his feelings for her are consuming him in a gorgeous way 🥺, grocery shopping 🍏 and then a housewarming party, jk chocolate chip nips appreciation (oc pinches them lol), horniness, implied sex + implied boner, sexual tension, flirting and teasing and bickering, yearning, convos about their relationship/life, cooking together hehe, jk is so… jk, kissing/making out, the ending ♡ ➳ word count: 15.6k ➳ a/n: domesticity is my favourite city and i never wanna leave lol. i've genuinely been enjoying fluff more than i ever thought i would. this chapter made me so damn happy and i hope it has the same effect on you guys, too <3 let me know how you liked it; feedback is always appreciated 🥺 also, there are lil sub-headings to avoid confusion with the timeline!! enjoy!! 🤍 ➳ a/n2: even though i am a tiny bit late… happy birthday @jkaxl. love you so much, axelle <3 ➳ listen to: daylight by taylor swift (ty anon <3) | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

”Are you happy?”

“I’m… I’m adjusting to it all. It’s new. But so far I feel— relieved.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I didn’t encourage that feeling earlier. But… you know. You found your way on your own, and somehow, I find that just as remarkable. If not so much more.”

“Thank you.”

Silence breaks the dialogue, but there are still shreds of unspoken words he’s not letting out yet. Right on the tip of his tongue, resting quietly; so you wait. Let your weary gaze slump to your lap, blinking until you hear a rustle and a—

“Do you want to come over sometime?”

You don’t know.

So you respond in just that uncertainty, “Maybe at some point? When it’s… not so overwhelming anymore.”

“I understand. Hey,” another break in his speech, “I’m proud of you.”

Your heart suspends for a fraction of a moment, but you feel the seething, searing pain. Fresh, clumping up your throat.

“…Thank you.”

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE

When Jungkook locks the door, the apartment is quiet, but the living room light still glowing.

Still fired up and hot, the cool back of his hand pats his warm neck and cheek. Your name threatens to tumble off his tongue, but an oddly calm feeling advises against it. And as he carries his bag into the living room, setting it down next to a big flower pot you so wanted, he sees why.

Because you’re curled up on the couch, temple against the back of it, legs pulled in. Your favourite blanket — that you swear constantly smells like him — is draped half over you, falling off one of your shoulders.

You’re sound asleep.

Jungkook recognises the pout even from afar; lets his eyes drift from your face to the hand peeking out of the blanket. Brushing a piece of paper that is holding on for dear life, attempting not to slip off your lap.

What if he never moved? If he kept staring?

Back in college, one of his dearest professors used to say, “You know it’s art when even blinking feels like a waste of time. You don’t want to spend a second not looking at it.”

That very semester is still a major component of Jungkook’s memory. Ever since, he’s seen a handful and a dozen and a hundred pieces that matched the words once uttered.

Just, never as much as today.

The sky has obscured since he left two hours ago — he wonders how fast that time passed for you. Either way, he reckons you didn’t rest until your body forced you to. Because it’s not anywhere near bedtime; but the changes in your life constantly add to your exhaustion.

He wanted to help. He did all morning before you sent him away, arguing that, “You’re already doing too much. And you hate paperwork anyway!”

To which he expressed, “But I don’t hate you or having you here!”

“Just go!” You reached to his left nipple, poking it, and he, wearing a frisky smirk, instinctively threw a protective hand over it. “The muscles demand your attention desperately. Just don’t look at other girls’ butts, ‘kay?”

He chuckled.

You made it sound like a life-altering goodbye to a year-long journey instead of a brief trip to the gym. He nodded solemnly, nearly saluting as he agreed, “You’re right. Gonna make sure I’m able to crush you extra hard.”

But it seems you crushed and knocked yourself out well enough. And that after he sent out various emails with you, drafting and crafting a battle plan, googling salient issues and their solutions, and writing down lists of everything still left to do before you can actually move in.

The two of you are lucky the landlord is laid-back. Usually, they don’t let anyone move in so quickly; demand a couple months. And you’ll already be settling here officially the very next.

Not that it makes any difference.

You already spend your dusks and dawns here, clinging, reluctant to go home. And he won’t tell you to; he’d be a fool to. Plus, he hates his bed cold.

Jungkook’s steps are slow, muscles painful to the touch. He sweeps his tresses back as he nears your slumbering, balled up form, soon pressing a hand into the arm of the couch. Suppressing a groan, he leans in; frees your closed eye from a lock before he plants a kiss next to it.

You stir with the softest flutter of your eyelashes, just a teeny tiny bit.

God. You tilt his world off its axis.

“Baby,” he whispers.

It must be pulling you out of the remnants of your doze, because your muscles awaken, corners of your lips twitching. The movement of your legs finally pushes the paper off the blanket, and Jungkook hurries to catch it before it can drift to the floor; places it on the table.

He kneels; and for the briefest, smallest moments, you flinch when your pupils eventually align with his. Then, relaxation floods you anew, and you grip the blanket, sliding it back over you — only for it to glide down again.

You smile — a tired beam, accompanied by a sigh. Not quite wide, because you’re not fully there yet, but still so genuine. Stretching a little, you murmur, “You’re back.”

“And you’re still working,” he scolds, albeit cushioning his words by bringing a fingertip to your jaw. Flicking affectionately, softly. “Did you eat?”

“Mhmmm. But it’s—” Your hand taps for something, moving under the blanket; and a second later, you’re lighting up your phone, squinting at it. “It’s not late. Gonna eat with you again. I’m not that tired anymore.”

As if on cue, you yawn, tears of weariness collecting. You interrupt it with a gentle snicker and promise, “I mean it.”

The lopsided smile emerges on his features quickly. The drowsy, vulnerable tone in your voice caresses his heart like a gust… but the meaning behind it doesn’t pass by him so fast.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” he repeats for the fifth time today alone; it’s become a constant habit. A reminder, like clockwork. “The body knows when you do.”

“No. I feel great.”

“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”

“I am,” you defend, attempting to stress the verb, but not quite getting there, “I am. Don’t worry so much.”

An impossible demand; but how would he explain it to you?

Despite the shake of his head, he still gives in, “Okay. I’ll shower and be back in a sec, yeah?”

He waits for your confirmation until you hum in unintelligible agreement, moving back in to plant a kiss on your forehead. Rushes to the shower, washes off today’s effort.

Wet hair strands pushed back, he finds you shuffling and organising the papers you read and filled in today, placing them neatly in the middle of the table. You look more awake now, delivering a content smile before heading to the kitchen with him.

Only, your mind might not be entirely unfogged yet — because your movements are slow. Different from how he handles the stir fry that the two of you cooked for lunch together.

You were proud of your creation — told Jungkook how you’re still far from the skills he possesses, but not bad to start with and improving every day. Seasoning better, understanding how to cut faster without hurting yourself in the process.

It’s lovely, watching the contentment spread in your eyes.

Yet, Jungkook always makes sure to stand close to your back, hands lifted, persistently ready to salvage the situation if need be.

But right now, judging from your clearly burdened brain, he bestowed a relatively simple task upon you. And you look so cute doing it — bun all messy, shoulders slumped, sporting (after stealing) his joggers since they’re so ridiculously comfortable, so get your own.

He side-eyes you every now and then, forbearing a chuckle; but when your lower lip juts in concentration, he can’t help but sling an arm around your waist. The jug containing the iced tea shakes, and you hold the glass carefully, voicing a little, “Oh— I… Kook.”

You’re wide-eyed and caught off guard; blinking when he tilts his head and leaves a kiss under your ear.

You raise your shoulder at the tickling sensation, and when you call his name again, your voice is reprimanding. But he could pick out the endearment even in his sleep.

That’s how it goes every hour of the day; sweet and new ever since you started frequenting his place even more often than before.

Something has occurred since the press conference. Two days only — but the universe has changed. Maybe it has expanded faster than ever and birthed a couple billion more stars, made even the nights brighter. He doesn’t know.

All he does recognise is that unnamed, newfound feeling spreading in his chest, and he’s been unblurring it. Bit by bit. Letting it take on a form that will soon consume him. He’s sure.

And soon, there’ll be a fitting word and definition matching this phenomenon, too.

It’s triggered by even the smallest things.

Like by the sound of your steps when you walk through the apartment. Or by the way you hum your favourite song all the time, unconsciously; then singing the line you hold dearest to your heart before resuming to the hum.

Trust in me when I say…

Or even… by how you’re facing him an hour later, satiated and cross-legged on the bed as you finish up today’s work.

You’ll have to notify the bank and whatnot of your move soon, so you need to brainstorm the relevant institutions that the new address and information will go to. It shouldn’t take too long; you’re diligent, so you’ll just be noting down all numbers next to the places you need to contact and then crash.

Jungkook soon takes over that task, lips moving as he reads the words, writes them down. And amidst the end-of-the-day chore, you crane your neck to read, and tell him, “You have such pretty handwriting.”

“So do you. I didn’t know you made circles over your lower case I’s,” he looks closer to where you scribbled, tapping the pen against a letter, “and awwh. The curves of the T’s!”

You giggle before you add, “I’ve heard a pretty handwriting symbolises inner beauty, by the way.”

“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”

“No doubt. We need to take more pictures… we look great together.”

That’s what’s been filling the hours of these days, too, Jungkook supposes. The airy, light atmosphere within the four walls he’s come to share with you. Laughter and shared glances, despite the stack awaiting you — because it signifies far more than paperwork.

Which is why it surprises him when a subtle switch occurs, suddenly and unannounced.

When he looks at your fingers lifting a paper, he can’t say what you’re seeing, but your ardour falters a little. Crooning dying, expression not matching the smile on the pictures you spoke of.

Delicately, you trace the edges of the document before putting it back down, aligning it with the rest of the pile. Pushing the whole thing to the side, you sigh, and he, a silent observer up to this moment, asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’re thinking about something. And I don’t like it when you’re quiet like this.”

“Oh… It’s nothing.” The shrug is subtle and unconvincing, and the tight shutting of your lips so telling to him. He senses the tension before you finally reveal, “Dad called today. And…” He waits; another shrug. “It’s nothing. He just asked how I was holding up. And that he’s sorry things had to escalate on Friday.”

Ah. Odd.

Jungkook would never say it to you: Because he has never been one to talk families down, sever a bond by voicing his opinion, even if the relationship’s already hanging by a thread. No… he’d never say it to you.

But.

There’s a dull realisation in the back of his mind; and it evokes quiet anger in him. That… there was always a potential anchor inhabiting the same house as you, but never serving as one.

Hidden behind your mother’s back, letting it all pass — probably for you to build character.

Jungkook has always assumed that his dad did just that, too. Throwing him into the world without support, letting a seemingly irresponsible teenager, and then young adult, experience hardships in order to learn how to deal with them.

In contrast to your father, his dad wouldn’t apologise to him… yet, in the end, morally and emotionally, both your families fucked up big time.

“Oh…”

You nod, elaborating, “He wanted to know if I was going to visit him. But I need a bit of time.”

Right… thinking about it, you haven’t seen your father in a while. And your mother hasn’t blown up your phone since Friday evening — when you came out of the glass building, with equally glassy yet hopeful eyes.

You truly must have let off steam in there for her to back away.

“Is that why you were saying you’ll be rushing to the house after work?”

Because as far as he recalls, you’ve been talking about gathering your stuff immediately after working hours — or on Saturday mornings. Never any other time. Because you know they won’t be at home then.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “I feel horrible neglecting him like that, because he seems to be glad that I’m happy, but…”

Your lips point downward; you clear your throat, but it doesn’t hide the tremble in your voice, “I just wish he’d defended me sometimes. Dunno. Maybe he did and I just don’t know about it? And it never worked? It’s what I like to think.”

God…

“Because,” you continue your vent, “he was strict but not like her, and… Sometimes he did recognise bullshit when he saw it. I’d hear them talk and he wouldn’t always see eye to eye with her. But a bit more open support would’ve been cool, you know?”

Shit, how it angers Jungkook.

The knot in your throat; how you avert his gaze; the looming tears. It all angers him.

He moves his hand to your knee, keeping his voice and heart steady for you. Simply uttering, “Baby…”

“And… and then today he suddenly seemed… I don’t know.” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. Your blinking fastens, and you vehemently dodge Jungkook’s eyes. “I dunno how casually he said it, but he told me he was proud.”

The way you emphasise the word… as if it’s a stranger to you, like you’re trying it out…

Jungkook sighs, heart and chest heavy, muttering so kindly—

“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”

His palm shoves the papers aside some more, uncaring, and brings you closer to his body. Yearning for your embrace, he shifts with you until your legs wrap around each other. Fingers slither to your chin to raise it, and then pinch your cheek adoringly.

The bedroom light falls into your sparkling eyes, shiny with the dampness. You’re not crying, but you sniffle for a moment.

“Of course he is,” he whispers, keeping your face upright, “what’s there not to be proud of? You’re so fucking cool.”

“…You think?”

“Of course I do,” he repeats, “you’re so inspiring and smart and funny and awesome. I’m the proudest of you, in fact.”

The heat increases beneath his palms as your cheek smoulders, pupils promptly softening. As if the outline of your irises is blurring, relinquishing the harder, unwanted emotions.

“I could probably live with just that,” you respond, managing a tender laugh and mixing it with your sniffles. “But…”

But perhaps, the heavy heart won’t get entirely lighter just yet. And Jungkook’s turns half blue at the same time as yours.

“I wish my mom could react the same way instead of being so… stubborn. I mean, it’s a good thing that I want to stand on my own two feet! And aside from work — she also saw me in the summer, and she knew how I felt without you. She sees how I feel now with you, too, and yet.”

You puff out some air, as if you’d been dying to rant; and he imitates the release of a quiet breath, but for wholly other reasons.

Because…

Along with the melancholy drenching your voice, the guilt shoots an arrow to his heart. Guilty about this damn summer; about the days he nearly gave up on you. If he could encase your fractured soul in a quick cure…

“I’m sorry she keeps hurting you, baby. And… I’m sorry you cried. Being sad over a loser like me was the last thing you needed, so…”

He’s half joking; lifting the corner of his lips. You seem to know, too, because you match his smile — still pledging, “Being sad sucked, but… you’re right here now and. I do need you.”

It’s so easy for you to tinge his entire being in a bright pink. Because somewhere in the depths of his mind, he admits that he wanted to hear this. That he wants you to need him as much as he needs you.

“And I’m right here to stay,” he promises. “Even if she doesn’t. Okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. But maybe someday she can be proud, too.”

It’s fucking you up more than he thought. Probably more than you thought.

“I’m sure,” he guarantees, “some people accept their mindsets as the only truth, angel, but one day she’ll come around.” You only nod. So he adds, “I’ll fix this with you.”

“Fix it?”

“The issues you deal with. And the ones I deal with. You and I together, okay?”

Your motions are slow. The nod is barely one; maybe because his hands refuse to establish yet another distance to your skin. And maybe because you’ve tired yourself out once and for all. The slight slouch is telling; your body needs some rest.

Enough with the papers.

“You know… somehow, this excites me,” he says. The grin emerging confuses you for a while; the flicker in your eyes is as delightful as the moment. “Pulling out all the stops and making things better with you, I mean. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.”

And he’d know. Because if he’d been comfortable enough, he would’ve long ago; he had the chance to. Yet, the courage never surfaced — until with you.

His touch drops from your face to the side of your neck, shaking you gently before he says, “You excite me all the time.”

Shouldn’t be news to you — bearing his unceasing kisses and everlasting words in mind, his bliss is difficult to miss. There’s barely any containing it around you.

And maybe you know what he means; because judging from your dreamy smile, you can’t seem to muster any self-control either. Feeling the joy bubbling, growing, simmering in the middle of your stomach until it explodes and you—

Wrap your arms around his neck abruptly. Attacking him until balance abandons him, falling back onto the bed before you land on top of him. The hug is crushing, your body pushing into his with every sliver of fondness you can summon.

He could say something. Blurt more admissions dipped in honey. But he doesn’t question it; doesn’t comment on it. Only relishes the silence and your warm cheek against his chest, cuddling in.

And sighs in contentment.

A WEEK LATER

You’re messing up the structured system he established for himself.

The groceries are scattered in the cart; instead of playing Tetris with them, as he usually does, you’re piling them up randomly, unaware of the mess.

Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to tell you that the pack of eggs isn’t supposed to be balancing on top of other products like this. Because holy shit, you are buzzing. Not because you don’t know how to grocery shop, but because of the conversation this morning.

”I've got a whole list in my head. We’ll need a shit ton to make this work tonight.”

You were taming your hair as you listened; watching your reflection follow your movements — and as he readied himself for the day, Jungkook watched from afar.

You’d decided that for now, a week was enough to mourn the loss of whatever familial bonds could’ve been. Just last night you told him that starting this new life means an opportunity to gradually leave your sorrow behind, even if it takes some time.

And in celebration of the new arc you’re so joyfully approaching, you’d decided to host a housewarming of some sorts.

Jungkook’s friends already know his place; but the pronoun has changed. This time, you want them to step into your apartment, too.

Securing a hair strand with a clip, you asked, “Do we have it all here?”

“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”

“Ohhh…”

Your fingers floated to the edge of the wash basin. You held it in your grip, leaning over it a little, staring into your own eyes quietly. He checked with another step closer to the bathroom, glimpsing at the expression in the mirror.

Calm, but thinking.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling his jeans’ zipper close.

“Uhh. Do you need help?”

“You should rest. You’re already doing so m—”

“No, no, I mean…” You let the sink go, folding your fingers. Inhaling for just a moment when your eyes fell on his bare torso. “I want to go grocery shopping with you. It’s Saturday and I have nothing to do until tonight. So… Please don’t go without me?”

The big eyes and saccharine question went straight to his heart; like one of Cupid’s pointy, sharp arrows targeting the exact middle of the organ. What else could he have done other than breaking into a breathy laugh — wide grin building a lively start to the morning.

“Of course. I’ll wait until you’re ready then.”

You raised a triumphant, tight fist, and he shook his head in delight. Diminished the distance between your bodies, a hand pressing into the back of your head before pulling you to his lips and placing a kiss to your forehead. Right before—

“Hey— ouch?”

It didn’t hurt; but he still felt the fingers pinching his tiny nipples — and heard your cheeky, “Why are they always hard? And why are you always shirtless, Jeon?”

He didn’t argue that changing into outdoor clothes didn’t count. Instead, the bright golden light you cast in his mind distracted him, taking him back.

You’d said that to him before; everything has changed since then.

“Why are you smiling like this?” you ask, holding a pack of four yellow apples in one hand, red ones in the other.

“Hm?” Jungkook rubs a hand over his cheek, feeling the glee in his countenance before flattening the dimples. “It’s nothing. I’m just liking how much fun you’re having.”

“I am! But most of all because I can’t wait to cook with you today.”

Your words instantly conjure pictures of a potential evening; idyllic ones mixing with utter chaos. Rushing and cutting and serving — but for one of the very first times together. Only milestones ahead.

A higher pitched gushing threatens to fall out of Jungkook, right here in the fruit aisle. But instead, you raise your hands again, asking, “Which ones?”

“Hmmm… neither. Let’s get the green ones.”

You let your arms fall, a finger pointing towards him, and say, “Ohhh. Good call.”

And then you proceed to complicate the cart labyrinth again. What a savagery. Jungkook waits until you’ve turned around and works on reorganising again, following his system. Then, he thinks — this could be draining, but it’s not.

Because you keep each other entertained. And neither of you bothers about the gapes you receive.

Not when he leans over the cart, shoving it in teeny tiny steps; continuing when he realises it makes you laugh.

Or, when you cheer once you find something the two of you like that nobody else enjoys; accompanied by exclaimed Ohhhhs and Haaas. And not as you argue when you find something to disagree about.

It seems that you do not dig dates, and he, the friendly omnivore, takes playful offence in that. He teases you across half the supermarket until you turn the tables, picking up an eggplant and interrupting him with a,

“Look! This is you.”

The roll of his eyes only veils his amusement a little, he’s sure. Because your enthusiasm remains steady, including the impish pull of his beige Supreme beanie over his eyes and a kiss to his cheek that paints the spot in a rosy dust.

Pointing to a glass of honey, Jungkook soon fights back, “And this is you.”

“…This is way too sweet and I do not know how to counter it.”

“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”

Your expression resembles an ellipsis; whether you’re out of answers or overwhelmingly affected by the selection of his words, he doesn’t know. He knows he’d short circuit if you ever said that to him.

“Fair,” is what you settle on, though, “wouldn’t I know what brain outages your romantic ass causes.”

You’re the model definition of a cheesy, movie-esque couple. Taehyung and Eun differ from the nature the two of you showcase; they already threatened to bring paper bags in case Jungkook and you overdo it tonight.

Can’t blame them. The world is certainly pink-tinted when you bicker and jest at the register; or when you hurry through an Ikea — courtesy of your last minute plan to buy plants — to make it home and cook in time.

Just this morning, you were daydreaming about the concept of furniture retailers and how such shops allow building a home with the most special person.

And then, as if wanting to clarify your sentiments, you turned in the car, facing him as you struggled with the belt, just to say, “Which is you for me. I’m building a home with you.”

Jungkook’s legs still melt into a puddle whenever he remembers the softness in your words, and the puppy gaze you threw as you finally leaned back in your seat.

Which is why it’s such a shame that the clock is ticking so relentlessly.

Because your initial elation turns into disapproval only for today as you wade through the labyrinthine, time-consuming design the store is so popular for. Trying to keep up with Jungkook’s pace and hastening across the rooms.

And even then, neither of your laughter ceases; you turn the most stressful situations into deep solace. The pressure soon gives way to a calm satisfaction the moment your apartment door opens.

You set up the few plants you brought; some under the window, some on the desk in the bedroom, right next to the Beauty and the Beast rose, and a jade plant in the living room. For good luck, you said.

And then, after resting for five minutes and abandoning all further breaks, you start work in the kitchen. Which proves as cooperative as he thought — that is, until you get into a friendly argument about whether to do the dishes now or later.

“One of us keeps cooking. The other washes up what we don’t need anymore,” Jungkook explains, repeating it over and over.

To which you keep defending, “Or. One cooks one dish. The other handles the second. And we finish cooking faster and then do the dishes together.”

His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, and he whines, “It won’t make much of a difference!”

“Well, if it doesn’t, then we could do either!”

“BUT… it might get crowded if we work at the stove at the same time, babe—”

“You just don’t trust me with th—”

“Keep yelling at me like that, and—” Jungkook interjects, and you wince a tiny bit; but he continues a mere, barely lasting moment later, “and I swear I’ll kiss you.”

Beat of silence. Your eyebrows are still furrowed. And then, amidst the agitation, you erupt into laughter. Blend it with the chortle he can’t suppress, either.

To Jungkook, the sound is akin to a song — and he could spin the record all day long.

Spoiler warning — you do not kiss. But the lively chuckles and free-spirited conversations dye the atmosphere and flavour it. Its sweetness feels like a feathery kiss, too.

And whether it’s that very unlimited sense of familiarity, gradually growing, or your unwavering teamwork at last — you’re surprised when the late afternoon transforms into an early evening, a dimly blue, cloudy sky already changing into different shades of grey.

Time passed fast; but the hour-hand on the clock still hasn’t quite moved to where you’re waiting for it to settle. Because back in the living room, you’re still an hour early. Your guests are invited for around six, but you can’t say when they’ll actually show up.

Seems you wrapped up work at a convenient time. Better now than late.

You kiss your teeth in the middle of the room, scanning it for something to do. It’s clean; pretty. Plants set up, table wiped, cushions neatly set on the couch. So you remark, “We were so stressed, I didn’t think we’d be finished already.”

Jungkook, already plummeting onto the far end of the couch, pats the spot next to him, saying, “That’s good. Gives us a bit of time to relax. Anything you wanna do?”

But you don’t sit down yet. You watch your manspreading boyfriend lean back, big inked hand wrapping around the remote control. You look at the open button of his shirt, and the singular hair strands; the side parting. The mole under his lips and the big eyes.

He just doesn’t notice it until the lack of a response continues.

“Huh?” he voices again, finger stopping over the power button before his eyes flit back to you.

You look deep in emotions and distracted; if he could guess, then even… ferociously yearning. He waits with a dancing heart until you admit boldly, “There’s plenty I can think of that I wanna do right now.”

You fold your hands behind your back, chest out a little, legs crossing. You curl your lower lip in, nibbling at it. It affects him, and you know. He sucks in air, a hand on his thigh. Blinking at you, and then poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

He leaves out a puff of a tiny laugh, shaking his head a bit. Nearly succumbing to the thought that…

Perhaps there’s an activity you can indulge in before they come, right—

Wrong.

Jungkook, no matter how tempted, throws another glance at the clock, and argues, “Stop thinking of eggplants. They’ll probably be here soon, so your smooth-talking is not allowed to work!”

Your body relaxes, back in its prior position; you pout for a second. “Fine. Then I’ll get dressed before anything else.”

Jungkook sighs in relief — close. Way too close. Tonight might just stretch his jeans if you keep this up; his blood is already abandoning his brain and putting its attention elsewhere.

But you’re well-mannered in the company of guests, right?

Only one way to find out — an hour to go.

Jungkook heaves his body off the couch merely ten minutes later.

And maybe even that was too early.

Maybe he should’ve waited for you to trudge out of the bedroom; or should’ve gotten his clothes and changed somewhere else. Because when he follows your steps to find a new attire for himself, too, you’re sitting at the very edge of the bed, dress already on.

It’s not too posh; rather casual. A green cotton one, pulled up to your hip because you’re dragging transparent tights over your legs. A patch of your thighs is still visible; part of your ass on display where your panties don’t reach. Skin far too empty without his kiss on it.

He doesn’t know how you do it; but within a moment, you elicit a plethora of emotions in him. Burning desire; comfortable warmth; cosy affection. You look so cuddled in in that autumn dress.

Pretty. So gorgeous; you’ll drive him insane.

But the craze doesn’t manifest in hunger this time, but gathers in a single breath, let out in a sigh. Which… makes you recoil. Your hand briefly bolts to your chest, eyes rolling, head shaking. You murmur a quiet, “Babe…” before resuming the task.

Jungkook watches as you lift your body to pull your tights over your ass and the dress back into place, and then reaches out a palm to you; urging yours to settle in it.

Still trapped in a cube of daydreams, he tugs you in until your grace radiates toward him, and then tells you—

“My baby is the prettiest ever. Ever, ever.”

You take his fawning with glowing cheeks, smile so unbelievably worth being alive as you answer, “Your baby isn’t sure if she deserves this so suddenly, but… thankful either way.”

Your voice is an endearing mix of soft and enthusiastic. The combination that breathes life into a room. You’re so…

“God,” he says, squeezing your hand, lifting his other fingers to touch the hem of your dress. Fixing it albeit already perfectly sitting. Then looks up; eyes dropping to your lips. “Maybe you were right. Want to kiss you stupid right now.”

And he would; he wouldn’t hesitate if you didn’t move a palm to his face, pressing a thumb to his plush mouth. Telling him, “Nope, too late. The make up wasn’t easy to do. And dark lipstick is hard to remove.”

Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…

“I…” Gulp. “Fine, princess.” He removes your hand from his face, towing you back into the living room. “Then, what do we do now? Movie?”

“Nah… It’s so hard to stop watching. Gonna kick them out again if we start now. What about… hm.”

Your eyes dart across the room, and Jungkook takes the moment to suggest, “Or we could have some soju already? Or wine, beer, whatever?”

“Or…”

You wait. Jungkook follows your gaze to the back of the room, surprised when it falls on a peeking canvas behind another big plant pot. Oh — that’s still there. He never took it out, and neither did you. Protecting his privacy, probably.

But perhaps it’s lighting a bulb over your head, because you soon ask, “Or. Wanna give me a house tour?”

“A house tour? Don’t you know every corner already?”

“Yeah but,” you shrug, rounding the couch with him in tow, “I wasn’t always here. You organised the place the way you wanted to when you moved in, so you’d know it better. Like…” You point to the turned painting, “What’s that?”

“That’s… Remember the drawing I had in my notebook? Of Gureum?”

Quite a while ago. You visited him for the first time in Namjoon’s studio back then; recalled it at the exhibit, too. Crazy how sentiments have changed. From a silly play-pretend game to damaged souls to this…

You nod.

“Yeah so,” he continues, “I painted him on a bigger surface.”

Your eyes shoot open, genuine interest in them. “Oh? Can I see?”

“Of course.”

It’s not his best work, honestly; but it is close to his heart. A piece he still wants to improve and feature in his own exhibit once it rolls around. The colouring process will be interesting; it’s barely an outline yet.

But you seem to perceive it with utter fascination and sheer joy. Because the moment Jungkook heaves the canvas up, turning it for you to see, your chin drops. You gasp, mumbling under your breath, “You’re kidding!”

“…Do you like it?”

“It’s so cute! This is…” You lean in, taking in every detail; commenting on it. “He’s a fluffball! Oh my god, the tongue peeking out. He looks so happy.” When you look up into his eyes, Jungkook’s heart does a thing; and his cheeks the other thing. “You painted him from memory?”

“Mmh, maybe a couple details? But I got most of him from a picture my aunt sent me a while ago. He’s been looking much older these days and I wanted to capture him before he ages even more. Made me miss him so much.”

“Awwh, Kook…” You pout. “I really want to meet him one day.”

He looks at you with something knowing and so telling in his gaze; he feels it unveil through his own stare. The knowledge he possesses about something, and that you don’t.

You might notice hints of it, but you don’t question it. Listening when he responds, “You will. He really is a fluffball and remembers me even after months and years of distance.”

“I love him already.” You lift, straightening your back. Watching as Jungkook sets the painting back before you add, “Okay. House tour. What else?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. Come.” He leads you the short way to the cupboard, and you follow in tiny steps, like an explorer running from one treasure to another. So exhilirated. So fucking cute. “Look, these— and don’t laugh, these are precious to me.”

“Laugh?”

“…These,” he opens the cupboard doors, reaching to the far back, behind some decoration; and pulls out a deck of cards. “Are my Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I used to collect them long ago, but I’m never throwing them away. Also—”

Your lips are parted, your eyes focused. Eyebrows shooting up gently, delighted when he takes out another small object from the back.

“My Jiraiya figure that I got for my tenth birthday.”

“Holy shit… I really never bothered looking in hidden corners.” Yeah… but now that you are, you’re making this place your own, too. No, it already is yours, the way he is. He swoons at the thought. “This is so cool. Why would I laugh?!”

“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”

You tilt your head. “A little. More into Detective Conan, though.”

Jungkook wonders… How foolish might his smile be looking right now?

“You… keep surprising me, angel,” he says — and you seem to like the praise.

Because you light up, forefinger touching his chest as you reiterate, “See? The house tour wasn’t a bad idea at all! Look at us tracking back the path of our souls, too.”

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. You’re a breath of fresh air to be around; so incredibly tender when you’re yourself. After all those weeks, you’re finally back to who he used to know. Not as sad anymore.

Never sick of the hand-holding, he grips your palm again, voice hushed when he orders, “Follow me, quick!” The mysterious journey leads you to the closet next; back to the quiet bedroom as he playfully shushes you. “I haven’t worn them in a long time, so you won’t know, but… Look, because the secret's out.”

You crane your neck to see what he’s referring to. And when you do, you coo and laugh straight away. Endlessly enraptured when he claims, “Wahh. They were my super-favourites.”

Iron Man socks. Obviously worn a hundred times; so, so him.

His bunny teeth flash in all their glory when he smiles, dimples out and corners of his eyes crinkly. He feels you hold his hand tighter, and you pick the most supportive tone when you say, “You need to start wearing them again! It’s so sweet when you’re geeky.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He stuffs them back, though not to the very bottom anymore; places them on top for easy access. And then, he continues, “Okay. One more thing for the glorious house tour, and we’re done. It’s another important sight, actually.”

“Ah. Oh?”

Barely a couple seconds later, you’re back to where the trip started. Following suit when he kneels near the table; swift beam spreading over your face when he clears his throat and narrates, “This… Is where I painted on you. Not on another medium, but I painted on you. Remember?”

You must. He rarely abandons paper and his usual colours like that; but you were the most marvellous masterpiece he ever covered. The most outstanding canvas he’s ever drawn on…

“I do.”

Your gaze falls sideways; are you remembering the same heart on your waist that he does? And how he touched it; smeared it under the shower water. How your back pressed into his chest, unknown what feelings you truly harboured, but never failing to showcase his own care to you.

The kisses on your shoulder. The whispers in your ears. The plea for you to stay.

“Of course I do. It was so calming,” you add, “and so beautiful.” You touch the soft carpet, plucking at its tiny fibres. “You consider it a sight at Jeon manor?”

He snickers at your choice of words, but then inhales, and very sternly says, “Yeah. We also had sex here, so it’s forever tainted. I remember it felt… like… we should do it ag—”

“Now it’s you saying these things!” You move a fist to his bicep, pushing against it lightly. “Be serious. Be romantic! It’s not the time to make me want you.”

“Oof, hey… For the record, I was being romantic! And also, I only want you more when you’re being sweet,” he rubs the spot you grazed; he barely felt it, “but seriously. I still remember everything I felt for you. And how crazy you drove me… and how vulnerable you were.”

You’re still stroking the fur of the carpet as you look into his eyes; and he sees a molten puddle in yours. Only one side of your lips lifts, but the softness in your voice is genuine, “I think I still am. Just a lot safer than before.”

“…Good. Me too.”

And that’s all.

That’s all his mind comes up with, because all the words and infatuation are locked in his heart, moving to his fingertips when he inches closer. He raises them to your chin. Knees near yours and close the yawning distance until your lips are a whisker away.

Funny — how his strong chest holds a feeble heart. Bursting and aching, full and yearning.

If he could, he’d stay here with you forever, just like that.

But. The two of you have a party to host.

And the suddenly ringing phone reminds you of it. Makes you flinch until your noses and foreheads touch, and you laugh, rubbing them as you tap the couch for the device. The two of you lean against the sofa, cosy on the carpet as you pick up.

He hears Eun’s voice announce through the phone, “We’re all here. Just a warning, because you better not be naked.”

You shoot a glance toward Jungkook. He snorts, and you start, “Why would we…”

“‘Cause we’re early for once. Taehyung didn’t need as much time with his hair today. So be prepared.”

Jungkook nods in confirmation. Taehyung usually needs to be told an earlier time when invited to an event or get-together.

There are sounds in the background, and he readies himself to register another voice. But not a second later, the doorbell chimes. Guess the two of you will have to wait with the bare devotion.

Because for now, it’s time to indulge the gang. Let them stream in with vibrant greetings, wrapped gifts, endless booze and sweets as irresistible as you.

Jimin is the only guest coming in a little later, rushing straight from his shift. And Jungkook recognises quickly that he’s not Jimin’s first pick for conversation after a timid handshake and parting of ways.

There’s no enmity between them; Jungkook reckons it’s more the awkwardness from the Blue Night still lingering between Jimin and him. Maybe even some leftover guilt about how he used to perceive the younger man.

At least, it’s strange when he, eventually, does take a seat on the couch, separated from Jungkook only by a healing Yoongi. You’re busy talking to Eun, and Taehyung has escaped to the bathroom. Yoongi maintains a healthy atmosphere with casual talks and soft jokes.

But even if somewhat reluctantly, it seems that Jimin is at least trying when he leans back on the couch, enabling a better view to Jungkook as he asks, “Did you paint that one?”

Jungkook follows the finger pointing at the wall next to the window; nothing too out of the ordinary. Just colourful flowers. It’s okay. Better this than nothing to warm up to each other.

Turning on the couch, Jungkook waves a hand in denial as he explains, “Ah, no, no. She bought it because she thought it’s cute.”

“But you could paint that, too,” Yoongi argues, followed by Jungkook’s shy, “I guess.”

“Ohh, okay, okay. Well, since we’re talking about it. Even if you didn’t paint it,” Jimin says, “been wanting to tell you that I loved your exhibit stuff. Uhm, Eun showed me pictures. Hope that’s okay.”

That’s surprising. Jungkook considers himself gifted in this sense, but— having someone actually boast about his work for him makes him feel… accomplished? Appreciated.

No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.

“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”

Yoongi wiggles a finger back and forth with an agreeing nod, snacking away, a quiet listener for the time being. There’s something amusing about it; makes Jungkook smile as he tells Jimin, “Thanks. And I’m glad you could come. Can imagine work’s a lot, so…”

“Yeah. No worries. Everything for our girl.”

Jungkook hums as the chat dies and the awkwardness returns. And then, he remembers—

Speaking of — where are you again? Still in the kitchen? Seems so. Or at least, moving away from it bit by bit.

Immersed in a conversation, holding the frame of the living room door, at the threshold to the anteroom. You’re discussing something with Eun, your expression focused. He can’t really make out your words because of those exchanged between Jimin and Yoongi, but…

A moment later, you do look at him. And then away again immediately — as if he caught you. A motion of your hand waves whatever cryptic topic off; and intrigued, Jungkook comes to a stand.

In vain — because Taehyung returns the same moment, babbling about whatever Yoongi just said. And you use the opportunity to march into the room, asking Jungkook to help you set the table for dinner.

To his chagrin, most of them offer to help momentarily. Taehyung swarms around you, insisting on plating, making it impossible for Jungkook to find a moment to ask what your conversation was about. And eventually, he gives up — if it’s important, you’ll tell him.

So for now, he relishes the evening your friends grant the two of you. They compliment the food, narrate short and long stories, watching Jungkook and you unwrap the gifts — board games from Jimin, cutting boards and wine from Yoongi, a stylish, modern thermostat from Taehyung and Eun.

The ecstasy overflows, the screeches probably making your neighbours think of you unhinged. Wine spills on the table; curses exchange; laughing turns into crying.

If anything other than this life is considered good, then Jungkook doesn’t crave that goodness. The unbridled chuckles, and your never-dropping smile are beyond everything twinkling and gorgeous already.

And he’s happy, too. Elated when you cover your mouth when you laugh; and overjoyed when you stand at the window after dinner, leaning forward. Breathing in the autumn air.

Jungkook follows once things wind down and the guests agree upon an appropriate volume. He mimics your stance, lower arms on the windowsill and hands hanging relaxed.

His fingers graze the withering flowers in the window box. They’re slowly dying by the hands of the approaching cold, and the rain keeps overwatering them. Yet… they still let it hurt them, holding on for as long as possible.

So in love with the shower.

It’s almost a bit tragic.

Jungkook refocuses, turning to you and asks, “What are you doing?”

Your head moves to the side, and you kill the remaining distance between you. Step close until you’re nearly nudging his elbow.

“Just,” you nod into a haphazard direction; into the outside world, “looking at the rain. Got a bit stifling in there.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder. “Also, I think they’re getting drunk.”

“Mhmmm. Except Jimin. Poor him is looking at the alcohol so longingly. Did you notice that he didn’t drink?”

“Someone has to drive them home, and Yoongi with his healing injury is out. I offered, but Jimin insisted on taking care of them and not, as he said, bothering us. Super thoughtful, really.”

You smile, nodding along before you silence. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of; or what you’re seeing. Maybe you’re truly only revelling in the rain; contrasting it with the sunshine you radiate.

Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.

In the midst of the tranquil evening, your gape strays from the drizzle with a blink. It descends to his twirling thumbs, and then moves along the length of his arm. Jungkook notices your attention from the side, but only turns to look at you when he realises what you’ve fixated on.

You gesture towards the hues and outlines on his skin, delicately touching the writhing snake as you say, “Want a tour for them, too, if you’d ever allow. I imagine it could be fun.”

“Tattoo tracing?” His lips move into an endeared smile; you look so fascinated. Like you’re seeing them for the first time. “I’d be down. I could even…” His fingers journey to yours, gently leading them to the flowers. “I can even give you a sneak peek.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Look.” He guides your touch over the dazzling orange of his tiger lily. “This is me. Tiger lilies beg for love. I’ve always sought love, too.”

Your eyes change. He knows you see it, too — the urge to never be abandoned again, all the time.

He can nearly see your heart ache. And feels his own thump a thousand miles a second. A fraction of it breaks off and jumps into your chest, making it yours; it does it all the damn time until you hold the entirety of it in the palm of your hands.

Unhurried, he steers your finger further, stopping at the blue tint; clearly hears you draw a breath when he tells you, “And this… This is my girlfriend. She’s even prettier in real life… that’s right.”

For a bit, you’re speechless. Jungkook keeps admiring you in the forget-me-nots for another second, and when you don’t speak on, he meets your eyes. You’re shaking your head, and then — slowly wrapping an arm around his, moving close, head on his shoulder.

From this angle, your cheeks are demanding to be squeezed; eyelashes kiss them softly, your lips tempting curves when you laugh. Jungkook doesn’t get enough of you… and you don’t want to make it easier for him either.

Because, “Shit,” you say, “you were right about pining more when someone’s being romantic. ‘Cause you’re making me want you so bad, in every way. Are you… still up for kissing me stupid?”

“Ahh… babe.”

“I just… You excite me, too, you know?”

“Don’t say these things while they’re here, baby,” he warns, although as tenderly as anyhow possible, “you’ll give me a heart attack, I mean it.”

“Now you know how I feel all the time!” you tease, fingers flicking raindrops into his face out of nowhere.

Jungkook recoils and squirms, taken aback, but it takes him a mere second to play along. He gathers rain in his palms, threatening to toss it into your face; bickering chaos at the open living room window until your damp hands rejoin and delicate digits interlace.

And as he looks at the sad flowers again, the reality of the moment makes him think. How the two of you used to resemble the blossoms in your window box, once enduring the incessant melancholy, too.

Much like the flowers towards the downpour, Jungkook and you reached for each other while being watered by gloom — but unlike the flowers, you’re still sprouting and thriving into something vivid and fragrant. Not beaten by the agonising shower.

The rain hurt me, but I wanted to keep fighting. Because I hoped. Because I adored.

And in the end, him and you aren’t tragic like them. You will never wither — only bloom.

An hour later, the apartment is empty.

You opened all the windows to eliminate the suffocating air; and the hot water running in the sink soothes your cold skin. What a relief to watch the clinking dishes lessen; you sigh at the small amount still left, and Jungkook catches it immediately.

“See?” he teases, loading the dishwasher. Even that seems like a task after such a day; tidying up the living room was more than enough. “Good that we did most of it during and after cooking. It’s so much even now.”

Eyes heavy, you admit, “I should learn to listen to you more.”

He clicks his tongue, skipping a response, and then, out of the blue, says, “Angel… I could get used to this.”

“To me listening to you more?”

“Yes. But no. To you being here.”

You glow up, even though you’re still facing the sink, smile a little hidden, “You need to. Because I’ll be annoying you all the time.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You hit him with a spoon, wetting the spot a bit before handing the cutlery to him. Delivering a head tilt, he smirks. Amused before he remembers something and asks, “Hey. What were you and Eun talking about earlier?”

“Hm? When?”

“Before dinner. It looked serious.”

You halt mid-movement. Did he catch something? Maybe. But you only insist, “Nothing special. About her graduation… you know, since it’s pretty soon.”

Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.

“Mmmh. Anything else?”

You feign a thoughtful moment, as if you’ve wiped your memory clean off whatever she said to you. Then, you tell him, “Yeah. I told her how you played around with the recipe and came up with the best dinner ever. And how hot you looked doing it.”

“…You said the last bit, too?”

“No.” Jungkook blows a raspberry before comically pressing his lips into a line, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault. I mean, do you know how attractive is it to be among people and know that this one person is still only looking at you?”

Oh, all too well…

“I would definitely know,” he chuckles. “Shit. You’ve been testing me tonight, you know?”

“…How?”

“All those compliments and ambiguous statements.” You shrug your shoulders in apparent innocence, muttering a small, ”It’s true" before he digs, “Anyway, don’t distract me. Anything else she said?”

Perhaps you’re done playing games. And perhaps you should’ve kept doing just that; because your next answer is a much greater tease.

“…I’ll tell you about it soon enough.”

Jungkook squints, organising a plate into a free spot, playfully disgruntled, “Unfair.”

“Hang in there.”

“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”

Your grin is gaping wide, and he attempts his best to ignore it. But when you add an evil snicker to it, regarding him with pure mirth in your eyes, he folds, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so cute. You’ll keep acting like you’re digging, but still always know when to respect my decisions. Maybe the bar is low? But I find trust ridiculously attractive.” You throw a longing smile at him, bringing a damp fingertip to his cheek to poke. “And to top it off… You’re so pretty, too, and I’m just… enamoured from all sides and—”

You wait and he uses the moment to wipe his cheek on his shirt. But when you don’t speak on, he spurs you on, “…And?”

“And I want you so bad.”

The plate waiting to be set into the dishwasher drops on the counter. Jungkook stares up, regarding the ceiling with a seemingly agitated look. You don’t know what’s truly whirling in him, so you warily ponder, “…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jungkook turns the water off, taking the cups from your hands and placing them in the sink. He shakes his palms off the liquid, and then whispers, “Okay. Later.”

The hold around your wrist is firm, and the tug firmer. Determined, he leads you out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over the light switch; your eyes are wide when you ask, “Wait, we’re not do—”

His answer is predictable; yet, you didn’t foresee it. Because—

“Bedroom. Right now.”

THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION

Unlike you, Jungkook has considered himself a night owl ever since he entered the bustling world of college. Settling in the city was a stirring experience, and the thrill of it, along with a girlfriend, exams and newfound friends, kept him up until the sun rose again.

He enjoyed what he did, too. Loved school, so he didn’t mind the fatigued eyes during lectures. Truly one of the handful of joys that helped rid his head of the brain fog he bestowed upon himself after each long, sleepless night.

And he was an avid participant in classes despite his sheepish persona — they shook him awake, the late afternoon workouts obliterating the rest of the exhaustion. Maybe that’s why he was so reluctant to flake out for the night, too; still energised.

But while Jungkook carried the spirit of a straight-out-of-the-high-school-freshman who disliked falling asleep early, he despised waking up at the break of day just as much.

Would groan, blinking into the sun, with no one to blame for his agitation but him. No matter how deep his fascination for his studies and how quick the fading of his initial irritation — the first few minutes of every day were pure agony.

Jungkook is still a night owl. Still wants the nights to stretch, albeit for other reasons now. But his attitude towards mornings has changed.

There’s a shift in his preferences now; you moved his universe by an inch, altered it so effortlessly. Suddenly, he doesn’t regret rising with the sun next to him. He doesn’t curse the groggy feeling anymore.

There’s a silky touch he seeks every single morning that his eyes open to, lips he follows with his own blindly. You’re a permanent presence now, air and fire to his lungs, and he feels the freshness, feels the burn whenever your fingers brush his shoulders upon waking up.

He won’t need to check in at work for a few hours still; yet, sleeping in would mean losing the minutes that you’re still here before walking out the door until the evening.

He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.

And it’s crazy how none of this requires any sort of effort or pleading from your side. How all you need to do is to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Those extra moments, no matter how fleeting, grant him a little more time on Earth with you, and he grasps it greedily. Even when you spend it teasing the hell out of him. Or, even when you wake up with scorching cheeks and endearing, high pitched complaints.

Like today.

“I still can’t believe yesterday,” you say.

“It’s okay.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard. Thinking about it, can I really show my face at the wedding? I’ll probably make things worse.”

Jungkook keeps glancing at the back of your head, the loose bun shaking with your movement. Smoothly, his fingers trace up and down your back; a gesture he started randomly and continued the moment you mumbled, “I like it… continue?”

Sat between his legs, you’ve been swaying for a while, both uneasy and amped about the approaching event. And to Jungkook, it’s as sweet as it is frustrating to see your brain fuming like that.

“Come here, baby,” he demands, content when you reverse into him. He wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you to his body, and presses a pillowy kiss to your temple. “You’re overthinking again. I promise you, we’ll make sure you have the most fun.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard,” you repeat, and Jungkook kisses his teeth.

“You’re a clown, I’ll admit,” you whine his name, and he laughs, “but I’m telling you. I know my mom and that was her I-like-you voice. Which I didn’t doubt for a second, by the way. Like, she really seems happy with how my life has turned out, and with whom. As am I. Understand?”

One more kiss to your scalp. He swings you from side to side, ignoring the ticking of the clock. In a few, you’ll be leaving the apartment, and Jungkook will need to kill the hours until he joins Namjoon at work.

He shouldn’t be missing you already; but he still holds you tighter. Tighter until you let out a little groan, a hand on his arm. He can’t read your thoughts or decipher whether his promise helped; because you don’t answer yet.

Only wait for a few seconds, allowing him to wallow in your warmth until you call, “…Jungkook.”

“Mhh?”

“Talking about life and stuff… did you always imagine yours to be like this? Just curious.”

“Like this?” he ponders, mentally intertwining every current branch of his life into one healthily growing tree. He’s liking it. “Well… I graduated. An exhibition ahead that’ll hopefully bring me a step closer to my own studio and profession.”

You hum in pride, tapping his arm as an affectionate reward. He continues, “I do what I love, have some great friends… and I get to spend my days with my favourite person? Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

You crane your neck to look at him; your lips are so close to his, tilted into a smile that’s so unbelievably you. “You called me that last night, too.”

“Huh? Oh, that’s right. And… I mean it. Like. Now that you’re here, it’s even clearer somehow?”

“…How so?”

“Mmh… whenever I used to get home, I’d think of what to eat and of showering and going to sleep. And when I come home now, the first thing I think of is you. What we’d cook tonight. Or what we might watch or talk about. You’re…”

He feels your chest rise under his limbs; a sigh of fondness as he knows it best.

“You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.” He pauses when you look at your blanket-covered lap, hiding your twinkling eyes. “So it’s clear.”

“You always sound so hopelessly…”

You halt mid-sentence, the touch against your arm tensing — much like his own heart, jumping to the next beat with a heavy thud. You shake your head; Jungkook doesn’t get to dwell in further thoughts… still doesn’t have the words for them yet.

Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.

If he thought about them long enough and arrived at a conclusion, would you think he’s rushing your relationship? Would it scare you?

Better not find out yet.

So he lets you talk and listens, “Anyway. So, is there anything, like… more? That you want to achieve someday? Or that you think of sometimes before you go, that’s still left for me to do.”

How fitting.

Pretending to be sinking into thoughts, Jungkook hums, letting his chest vibrate against your back, and then answers truthfully, “Yeah? Maybe a couple things. We’ll see them with time when I gather the courage to tackle them.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… am I allowed to say that already?” More simulations, teasing you with a fake distant gaze and a hissing inhale of air. “I’m not sure. You’ll know.”

“Hey! That makes me nervous.”

“No need.” You interrupt his speech with another sound of disapproval, pulling a dorky, infectious chortle out of him; his nose scrunches up. “I’m kidding. I’m talking about all the goals I have for my career. I don’t want to stop, no matter what. Keep going and keep striving for more.”

You nod; someone as hard-working as you would understand. In a sense, you’re a role model to him, too — a sentiment that you, as you have often emphasised, reciprocate.

Yet, you advise, “Just don’t overwork. Think of Icarus! We can’t always get more than more, you know? There’s happiness in satisfaction with what we have, too. But either way…” You angle your legs, pulling them close; cuddling into him more. “I’ve got your back.”

And perhaps that’s one of the gazillion traits he cherishes so much about you.

Your position at work is reputable and treasured, and you could easily push him to work harder, too. Could want him to match your career success, because it’s more or less guaranteed for you.

But you don’t. You stand by his side, prioritising his happiness and mental strength, albeit unaware of how his future might turn out. When you say you’ve got his back, he believes you.

“I know,” he says, lips in your hair, breathing you in. “Yeah… I know.”

“Hmmm… okay,” you move on, “what about me? Do you have any expectations? Certain standards and rules? I just,” you reach forward, tugging the blanket over your chest and his arm, “I feel like that’s something one should talk about. Tell me if it’s too much, though.”

“No, you’re right. But honestly? Is it… is it weird to say that you’ve kinda become a standard?”

“…I— What do you mean?”

“I just mean that… I’m never going to tell you that I expect you to be loyal and kind because it’s the bare minimum, right? Who doesn’t want all that? I know you are, so I don’t need to say it. So I don’t have any other expectations from you; these things are already the foundation of our relationship. Just. Mmh, how do I say it?”

He thinks for a moment, but you’re nodding, as if you’ve already understood. But his thoughts don’t end here; they’re just difficult to word. In his mind, they’re clear, but upon having to express them, he doesn’t quite understand the concept of language anymore.

Curses its limitations.

But then, as emotions gingerly gather to a coherent sentence at last, he tries to explain:

“Rather than adhering to any rules or standards I could have, I feel like you’re building them for me. You make me have a type, you know?” He feels you dissolve in his arms as he taps between your clavicles. “And that’s you. I don’t want anyone if I can’t have you.”

Did he go off track? Possibly. But you don’t seem to mind.

Because your voice is painfully sweet and miniscule when you speak, on the brink of losing the fight against the tremble, “But you have me. Pinky promise that you do, for a long, long time.”

Yeah… yeah, he does. And he’d be damned if he let this go.

Because if he ever did — if he ever so foolishly lost you again after combating these cruel storms, you’d still remain his standard. He’d look for you in each face passing, and in every laugh sounding.

The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.

Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.

And it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re right here.

“I’ll take your pinky promises,” he says, overjoyed as he crosses his legs over your shins, peppering more kisses onto your cheeks, the corner of your eyes, on your ear. He speaks in between your sighs and quiet laughs, “What about you? What do you want?”

“I… I don’t think I’ve ever had any expectations either, but. The wedding and—” You hesitate, as if considering dropping whatever you were going to list; and then you start anew, “The wedding made me think, and I— I just want to have so much fun with you.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I want all the ordinary things we do to feel special because it’s us doing them. And I don’t ever want us to regret anything, so… I want us to be brave.”

“Brave? Well, you’re already the strongest and bravest person I know.”

“Braver. I want to live without restraints. And I don’t want to overthink anymore.”

Hmm…

Jungkook has seen your jumbled up thoughts before. The pain you cause to your mind sometimes, and the zoned out eyes painting pictures of what you fear the most.

He knows that feeling. Has battled one too many beasts to lessen the ache; even if it’s not always possible. Even if he seeks reassurances sometimes, too. And maybe that’s the prominent and sole reason why he never dismisses your disquiet.

Why push you away if you’re already at an impasse? Why not lead you out of the maze?

“Take it easy, okay?” he soothes, letting his grip around you fall bit by bit to search for your fingers instead. “Restraints can’t beat us.”

“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”

“You should be.” Because thinking of all you’ve fought within the span of a couple weeks… “You’re the first person to show me that there’s no reason to be scared, you know?”

“Then…” You sit up, curling your fingers around his hand, lifting it mid-air in sudden eagerness. “Just imagine how life could go, right? We could go to the ocean. Oh.” You gasp, sucking in air. “Oh my god! The Great Barrier Reef!”

“Ohhh, that’s actually a solid bucket list item. And then, bungee jumping?”

You nod zealously; lacking your fingers’ mobility required to list things, you instead knock your intertwined hands against your thigh each time to come up with something new. Like now, “Cliffs. And northern lights, too. I’ve always wanted to see them.”

Reflexively, you look up.

Stare at the glued-on stars from last night, and the now missing projection you dozed off to. An effective visual lullaby; you didn’t even stir when Jungkook turned it off, tucking you in properly. In your blanket; in him.

“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.

“But the first stop’s your hometown… and the wedding. I want to meet your family and be super awkward about it.”

Jungkook laughs, forehead falling forward against your head. He shakes it for a second, and then recalls, “Ah… so chickens and family awkwardness. What else?”

He didn’t expect this to work out before he asked you. Considering you’ve barely started at Novaura, he anticipated gentle rejection. But now that it’s become a certain event in the incredibly near future, his heart pounds every time you mention it.

Because…

You in a dress. You in his house. You, dominating over every single heart that’s dear to him.

And it seems you’ve already thoroughly thought about this, because your answer shoots out of you like a bullet, “Wanna dance with you. And kiss you under the lights.”

“Angel… you’re over the moon about this, aren’t you?”

“…Too obvious?”

You allow a fleeting glance back to him before your eyes fall down to his bare arm, ending in a hand clinging to yours; covered in ink, much like the rest of his right limb. He knows you’re staring at the flowers without asking.

And as if knowing, reading your soul, he doesn’t find himself surprised when you suggest, “And then… one day… What do you think? Should I get a tattoo someday, too?”

“Totally, if that’s what you want. What would you wanna get?”

“Flowers to match? I don’t know. Maybe you can draw on me. Here,” you lead his hand to your thigh, sticking there for a while until you move up to your hip. “Or here.”

He wonders how focused your thoughts are right now. Because if they are, and you’re not fixating on the changes of his skin, you probably won’t register the countless goosebumps under his tattoos.

A giddy sensation spreads throughout his body, collecting in his chest and tummy. Memories of a nearly bare body, painted in his dozen colours returning. And then, pictures of the same hues blurring, smudging.

He breathes an exhale, insane at the thought of kissing those lines. Of lips trailing up your skin, stopping at your hip, dying a pleasant death.

Fuck.

“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”

His words come out more airy than intended, fingers itching to pinch your chin, to move your face to his. To slide down the mattress, to kiss your lips swollen, making out with you until the sun sets…

But the world is cruel and too real; the clock still ticks until he realises that freezing in place isn’t an option right now. So he says, “As much as I hate to say this… You should get ready for work.”

You groan; there’s something sweet about your unwillingness to go. Relatable. And it sticks until the exhaustion washes away with each second. Small breakfast in, clothes on, newfound work spirit restored.

Must be a good day approaching.

And you’ve been enjoying the recent ones, he assumes. Despite being so good at what you do, there’s a clear difference in how you tackle a day at Charmante versus at Novaura.

And you confirm it when he accompanies you to the entrance, bidding you goodbye until you meet again later, “What I love most about Novaura is that they don’t feel the need to communicate everything with Mom. They’re their own independent world and trust themselves.”

“Right… You as someone equally independent will fit right in, so they’re lucky to have you there. Makes me wonder, though.” Jungkook pauses, watching you grab your jacket from the wall hook, “Are your Charmante people okay with you being at Novaura so much?”

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

“…I really don’t know if I can do this.”

Well, shit. Wasn’t he ready to strive for more, run endlessly until his feet tired? Where is the dread suddenly emerging from?

Jungkook has barely set his sketchbook down when lightning bolts head for him.

Countering his concern with kissing eyebrows, Namjoon’s full lips purse, dimples gone as he wonders, “What are you even talking about?” — Much at the same time as you utter a threatening, “Shut up,” pastry lifted, ready to throw at him.

Jungkook shies away from the table, ready to dodge your attack; returning when you place the crumbly croissant back on your plate. He presses his lips together before smacking and kissing them, finger rolling the pen over his sketches, but eyes fixated on Namjoon’s notebook.

“I’m serious. There’s so much to do until November, and I… how do I get so much done?”

“But,” Namjoon knocks against the random drawing open on the table, “you already have so much to show. And you can revamp stuff from college, too. Besides, it’s okay to try your best and be scared at the same time, Jungkook! That’s part of a growing artist’s job.”

“But, are you sure I’m a growing artist?!”

Namjoon mutters something under a breath, and you add something unintelligible to the reassuring mix. Jungkook’s worried gaze remains on the rough lines of pencil on paper, teeth repeatedly nibbling his lower lip. Baring his mole.

He closes the sketchbook, staring at the golden, imprinted letters on a dark black background. He’s filled a quarter of it already; the very piece you gifted him for his birthday almost a month ago.

In some way, opening to a blank page serves as inspiration alone. You furnished him with something so simple yet gorgeous; thoughtful engraving to use as a reminder to hold onto his efforts.

But…

Amidst the lasting zeal, he’s been racking his brain. Because. What if he immerses himself in this, spending hours tainting his fingertips in different tints — only to steer towards failure?

What if it doesn’t work out? And he ends up not amounting to much, other than trying his luck online and living on a bare minimum of a salary? Would he start tutoring young, aspiring artists?

And you…

You’re diving into a stable job, well-paid, well-known. If you end up carrying both of you on your shoulders… would you think of him as a washout? Grow frustrated and dissatisfied?

You’ve been repeatedly declaring your unswerving support, but what if you some day do realise that…

Ugh.

He stuck to this passion with the full knowledge he would never fall out of love with it; but now that he’s working for his dreams, the process seems so scary all of a sudden.

“And I’m at the wedding, too…” he says.

He leans back in his chair, moving his pupils away from the paper and instinctively up to you. More concerns threaten to tumble off the tip of his tongue, but when your eyes suddenly flicker with disappointment, his lips shut again.

You blink, unsure, before you ask, “Do you… not want to go? We could totally stay here if you need the time.”

Oh…

Hadn’t you gushed about the event day in, day out now, he would’ve maybe believed your words. And in some sense, you probably do think of the alternative as okay, as long as he profits from it.

But he sees it in your eyes. And not just in yours — he’s been as enthralled by the idea as you. Which is why…

“No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”

Because the prospect of winding down with you has been keeping him sane. Doting on you under the countryside stars, showing you all you haven’t seen before, body to body dancing with you…

He’s not missing out on that, no matter what.

And god knows you need the break, too… especially after the utter hysteria last Friday…

“Kook, think about it. You need to be absolutely sure,” you argue, genuine worry in your gaze; from his side eye, he sees Namjoon nod in confirmation.

“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”

You don’t avert your gaze; your mouth closes a little, but you stay unblinking, waiting for his mind to change. He knows because he sees the thoughts floating at the surface of your eyes.

Like you’re still pondering; of course you are. As someone who’s been working hard for their career, even if just for a few months, you’d know. Who’d understand if not you?

The trance lingers between the two of you, and Jungkook lifts his lips, a vow and certainty in his smile. Moment only broken when Namjoon clears his throat and encourages once more, “Give it a shot, Jungkook… Those high-profile people need to see what you’re capable of! I mean, we’re so lucky to have them coming to our exhibits.”

Namjoon gestures randomly, across the small restaurant as he says, “Say what you will about this city, but we lure in quite a few esteemed artists for sure.”

“Who says something about this city?” you ask.

“I do,” Namjoon’s voice is soothing. One thing Jungkook has learned about him is that his flowery mind never rests. Lyrical; not always easy to understand. “I love and hate it. Leaving it, living it.”

He pauses, sipping on his diet coke before smacking the taste away and ordering, “Ask me anytime if you need any help, alright? And be confident.”

“And… what if it does work?”

Your gentle laugh sounds from the opposite side of the table, the straw of your milkshake on your tongue. The rhythmic melody calms something deep in him; perhaps more because he understands your reaction.

You’re just as cute worrying about things that he knows you’d ace.

“Well,” Namjoon starts, aware that Jungkook knows; still annihilating his unease, “the guy is ready to buy your art. If it goes well, he’ll sponsor you. Then, at some point, you’ll be able to afford your own studio and grow as an artist. Ideally.”

“Ah… ah, really…”

”Kookie,” your voice calls; you lean over the round table, shoving the milkshake aside, “don’t worry. And in the most unlikely case that it doesn’t go as planned, know that I’ll cheer you on either way.”

“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.

Your finger swings to and fro between Namjoon and you, and your expression changes from empathic and soft to the sweetest, most gut-wrenching smile he’s ever seen. The apples of your cheeks lift, pupils sparkling when you vow, “We’re here for you.”

He…

He could look at you all day, blinking be damned. Could pour out his emotions every second of every minute of every hour, and it’d still not match the endless letter his heart keeps crafting for you.

Disregarding how much of a shipwreck the two of you were last Friday, his chest has still lightened ever since; an epiphany has never been sweeter.

Because…

The words he couldn’t compose into a poem before are now an ardent confession, with rhymes and a melody and infinite beauty. Roaming his mind nonstop, caught in that baby pink bubble.

When had his senses last heightened this much?

Because somehow, he still feels the damp trail of tears he cried that night. And the heart that beat against your cheek. You, frozen against him, processing his words.

If there are ways to make him fall in love harder, you’ve been presenting them all the goddamn time.

And fuck, it’s been hard focusing on anything but you.

Like, on paying. Or on upholding a conversation with Namjoon — assuring him he’d be back in the studio in a bit as he prepares to bid you goodbye for the day.

To his chagrin, the walk to your car isn’t long. It’s parked at a corner, convenient for lunch dates like these; you promised you’d join one with Joon at some point, and you did. Forty-five minutes passed too quickly. Felt like a moment.

“Namjoon is so nice!” you comment, hands in the pockets of your denim jacket.

You keep swaying back and forth, from your heels to your toes and back. Your smile and movements suggest a free spirit, but your risen shoulders and the shallow crease between your eyebrows drench you in something tense.

You’ve been like that since you suggested staying, focusing on his work.

“He’s so wise, too, really,” Jungkook responds, close to you in case your swinging moves leave you tumbling, “like, a cool mix between calm and dorky. I’ve been learning so much from him.”

“Jeon Jungkook and his love for his mentor. You will never stop talking about him.”

Jungkook shrugs, a hand to the nape of his neck, face warming, “He’s cool, what can I say?”

“Yeah.”

And once again… he sees you gulp. Unsure, pupils flickering. You usually don’t struggle maintaining eye contact. So he soon wonders, “Are you okay? I… I hope you didn’t misunderstand what I said earlier. I really do want to go to the wedding.”

“Hm?” you voice, chin lifting a bit before you dispute, “Oh. No, I believe you. If you say it’s okay, then that’s how it is.”

“What then?”

“What do you mean? Do I really seem like something’s up?”

“A little.”

“Uhm…”

You roll up your eyes as you dig into your thoughts. Scouring your brain for whatever might be meandering in the back of your mind. Hm… seems you’re not fully cognisant of the subtle change in your behaviour, either?

So maybe, it means nothing after all.

Then again. It must be something.

Because in hindsight, he didn’t only notice today, but all weekend, too—

Oh…

Maybe you’re just getting used to the new developments; maybe they’re just making you a bit bashful like him. Maybe…

Okay. Deep breath. He just needs to make it sound like a joke, nothing pushy or odd or awkward because—

“Or is it because I told you I love you? Have I scared you off already?”

He watches your breathing stop. As though flexing an x-ray stare, watching your lungs dry up, air stuck in your throat until it escapes through your nose. Honestly… he’s been feeling the same.

“No!” you answer, tone breathy, pulling a hand out of the pocket to sprightly push at his shoulder. He barely budges. “Of course not. All that does is make me want to faint.”

Jungkook chuckles, delighted when your laugh matches his own. He doesn’t always know how to take a compliment either; but you fix your speechlessness with that glow on your face. Fills his own body with fairy dust, too.

His dimples are valleys when your fingers move to his open jacket, grazing the zipper and filling the seconds with quiet tenderness. He doesn’t know what to say to you until you let the silence prolong and then giggle into it once more.

If he could just dive into your brain. But all he has are his own, messy thoughts.

And those tangled thoughts say—

“Angel… Can I kiss you?” Now his lungs are collapsing, too. Worse, so much worse when you look into his eyes, still so surprised at every sliver of affection he signs. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

No… he needs to. Needs to blossom in this breezy weather. But he won’t tell you that.

He’ll just keep looking at you. One second, two seconds — until you’ve raised your hands to the collar of his jacket to move him closer, soon sneaking your touch further up to his neck. A miniscule and wordless hint of approval, and he basks in it avidly.

Twitching palms hesitate for only the subtlest of moments before they’ve dashed up to your cheeks, cupping your face and leaning in and…

Lock.

A picture of a lock. And of its key.

The first thing to flash into his mind.

Because how do his lips fit so perfectly between yours? When you touch him like this, delicate fingers caressing his jaw, how do you feel so much like a feather? And the damn way you sigh into his mouth… how you reciprocate the kiss.

He will never tire of telling you, telling himself, that you match him just like the ocean complements the shore. And it’s baffling. How perfect this feels, and how right it feels.

You do make the ordinary extraordinary.

Like a kiss that is shared a million times a day, between so, so many people. But you’re moving your lips against his. Holding onto him, tilting your head, soaking in his warmth. Going tentatively, then a bit faster, then slow again.

For the merest moments when your mouths part, you gasp, inhaling before pushing your fingers into his hair, at the back of his head. Then back against him, seeking his tongue; such soft sounds meeting his that he swears he could cry.

Cry about the shiver down his spine and the flutter in the pit of his stomach. About the world becoming a backdrop to everything in the middle of the pavement; and about how his thoughts only revolve around your shared breaths and the feeling of your warm cheeks.

Just you.

You, you, you.

Still too far away. Why do you drive him so incredibly mad?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He loves you. He loves you.

Under a breath and against your soft pillows, he mutters your name; so airy that he barely recognises his voice. His tongue drags over your lower lip, pecking one more time before he establishes an intruding distance between you.

Your foreheads touch for a transient bit, thumb skimming your cheek. When he opens his eyes, yours are still shut, and you’re feeble in his grip. And then, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You swallow again. Take a breath before admitting, “You’re right. There’s something I want to ask you, and I was so stupidly… nervous about it.”

“Yeah?”

“The whole gang, they… they’ve been planning something. They paid for it and all, but they’re waiting for me to give them an answer, so they know if I need to pay them back or if they should cancel or, or—”

He interrupts your ramble with a soft, “Tell me, babe.”

“Okay,” your eyelids finally open up; your gaze is so hazy when you look at him. “It’s a trip. Four days, three nights, during the wedding week.” He hasn’t said a word when you hurry to add, “But, we can leave earlier. It’s a road trip kinda thing to the mountains and the beach and. They want us there, too.”

”Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

“I… Baby.” He moves back, shaking his head. He was careful not to ruin your hair, well aware you have half a work day ahead of you; but he still brushes a strand back. “Were you and Eun talking about that two weeks ago?”

“Yeah. And Tae also said I should be the one to ask because you’d like that. But then things happened and all the stress and…”

“But… even before that. Why were you so nervous asking me about it for so long?”

“Because,” you answer, one shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to wait and see how you feel about the exhibition and the workload. And you already have limited time because of the wedding and I didn’t want to take away more of it.”

He can’t help but beam; why does this feel… endearing? Mirrors his own thoughts when he asked you about accompanying him to the wedding.

“We really do have the same brain, don’t we?” he asks.

“You’d think we’d learn.”

You say it lightheartedly, yet gnaw on your lips. He tongues the inside of his cheek, keeping eye contact, and then queries, “There’s something else, right?”

“Ah, just.”

You look unsure, trying to make sense of your thoughts, but your uncertainty makes him uncertain, too. So he exhales before he prods, “What? What what? Is it something bad?”

“No! Just. They’ve been wanting to do this since the summer. They never talked about it to me because you and I were… you know.” You kiss your teeth, and he uses the second to whoosh away the aching memories. “But they never cancelled for us, either.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’d say, and I quote, ‘Just wait.’ They knew we couldn’t stay away from each other even before we did.” You laugh. “Eun told me that day in the kitchen.”

Even before you did?

Untrue. He knew he didn’t want to live without you the moment you left his apartment, tear-soaked and heartbroken.

“Okay…” he starts, “and you were worried because?”

“Because you always get so sad when I talk about the summer. Explaining the context of the trip seemed hard to me, and I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

Oh…

Shit, man.

“You’re… ahhh… my sweet baby.” He wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. But you’re already running out of time, lunch break nearing its end, so he only grips your shoulders. “You know that it gets better after two minutes, no? Because whatever happened, I have you now.”

He flicks your chin as he has been lately; it cheers you up. Makes you smile a bit, conjures the pout away. Adding to the effect when he says, “Don’t worry so much, my love.”

Another inhale. Then, you admit, “I’m sorry. I dragged it out.”

“It’s okay.”

“So… would you come? Do you think you could take some time off work and all? I’d understand if it’s too much.”

“Hmm… Right before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Mid-october, yes. We could leave earlier!” you reiterate, hellbent on assuring he’s not obligated to do anything. So sweet, how you scratch your head. “They’d drive on. It’s convenient because it’s all in the same week.”

“Mountains and beach, you say.”

“If you don’t like them, we can stay at the hotel and chill together.”

Shit.

His grin widens with each heartbeat; you notice, because despite your suggestions, you sound more lively now.

And yet, it’s funny you’d question all these things like this at all. Don’t you remember damp cheeks and gentle touches?

Just days ago.

How he was still trembling when you left Eun’s complex. How he stopped you before climbing into the car, much like now, mumbling a timid, “Angel…”

And then retracting when his heart combusted. Looking into your eyes, still red, his own mind filled with nervous fear before settling on, “Nothing. Let’s go home.”

Or how you cried in the living room. How you broke down, terrified he might walk away. How his breath quivered, how his head spun, how he felt like he might throw up or faint or scare you off.

The damn sickness in his stomach until he spat the hidden words for the first time. And the pounding of his heart when you responded with a mumbled, “Kook… How.”

And… how his chest constricted at everything that followed after that. Don’t you remember?

In spite of every indication he threw your way — you still worry so much.

Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his.

What did you call it again? Wanting to be brave.

So fucking easy with you.

“How about…” he begins, staring into anticipating eyes, hearing a storm of cheers rumble, “going shopping before we leave?”

Your demeanour changes momentarily. The unsure girl, afraid to hurt him, soon finds her way back to her foundation. You light up, a hand over your mouth; your cheeks must be hurting.

You deliver one, short jump and then pull him back in, kissing his lips once before scattering a couple more pecks next to them. He soon finds himself pushing you towards your car, forcing you back to work, but you have a thousand things to babble about.

He’s adoring all the bright stars in your eyes — now he understands how you feel when you see the same universe in his.

It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Stay stay stay.

The word sails and wafts through his dazy thoughts like a silent prayer. Begging and begging; pleading to allow him to pour all his love on you, although he doesn’t need to ask. You always let him anyway.

And he guesses he’s using that permission thoroughly. Maybe that’s why keeps craving and burning for more; why he’s been holding you tighter these nights.

His tiger lily pressed against your heart.

*head in hands* they are so crazy for each other, pls 😭 warmth and reassurances and support and bickering literally build the foundation of their relationship and i love them sm :') for some reason the editing process knocked me out, but i still adore this one so so much, and i hope you guys did, too!! 🥺

feedback is always so so appreciated!! you guys are literally such a freaking supportive bunch and have kept this series alive for so long and i love you to death :( here's to the first one this year!! as always, please consider leaving a like, reblog (with or without feedback!), comments and spammm my inbox with everything that's on your mind hehe <3 any kind of msg makes my day!

and nowww!!!!! moving on to cmi: palette and VACAYYYY!!! mwah mwah 🤍

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook fic #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook

877 notes · View notes

nickfowlerrr · 4 months

Text

it’s a love story, baby, just say yes.

pairing: neighbor!bucky x curvy!reader

warnings: not the conclusion i was hoping for but that just means there’s more of these two to come. this feels like such a tease of a chapter lol i’m sorry. no smut. a lil tinny tiny bit of angst from reader’s perspective. mostly cute idiots in love. if something needs to be tagged please let me know.

words: 3.2k

notes: is the title a little on the nose? yes, yes it is. and it took me forever to land on. 💀 there will be more, i promise. sorry for the wait. thank you for reading, i hope you enjoy this little update. 🫶🏻 also also! happy birthday again to the anon who messaged me about this next part. hope your day was wonderful ✨💗

series masterlist / character outfit inspo

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Easy.

Just like that.

You can’t stop looking in the mirror.

You look…you look…god. You look terrified.

Fuck.

This was a bad decision. A really bad decision.

What the hell were you thinking?

What the hell was he thinking?

God, you feel like you can’t breathe again.

Focus.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

You smooth your skirt, pulling it once again for no reason. None other than habit, you suppose.

You look over yourself. Not awful, you think. You’re wearing your staple black long sleeve top with your high waisted houndstooth skirt. It’s cold outside, so you’re in your black thigh high boots. The ones that took you ages to find but have been your favorite since coming across them. You swear this pair was made in heaven because it felt like a miracle finding ones that actually fit your legs properly. You’ve accessorized with your trusty belt and your favorite jewelry and your hair somehow looks the best it has in days. Makeup is flawless and though you try to find something to fix…you just can’t.

And still, there’s that gnawing feeling telling you that you’re doing something wrong - that you are wrong.

You don’t know why you’re being so down on yourself today, but it seems like you’ve poked at each and every insecurity you’ve ever had in the past hour alone.

Maybe some part of your mind thinks it’ll convince you to not go through with this if you feel badly enough. Too bad you don’t really have the option of chickening out.

You sigh and finally look away from the mirror, instead reaching for your bottle of perfume and spraying yourself lightly with the lovely scent.

You smile a bit as you set the bottle back down in its spot.

You remember the first time you wore it. It was the day after your birthday - you had gotten it for yourself as a gift. You went over to Bucky's for your weekly movie watch and when you walked by him as he held his front door open for you, he seemed immediately taken. He was all over you as he followed you in close behind.

You had jerked away when he leaned in to smell you, giving him a look of incredulity.

“Creep,” you groused.

“Sorry,” he laughed, “but you smell incredible,” he complimented, leaning into you again. “Is that new?”

“It is, yeah. Smells good, right?” you smiled, loving your choice even more.

“Like heaven,” he simpered.

You knew he loved this perfume, but that is not why you are wearing it tonight, you tell yourself. That is simply a coincidence. It may be his favorite, but it was your favorite first.

You double check your phone, despite it having not gone off at all in the past two hours, just to ensure you weren’t missing any messages…particularly one that would read something along the lines of “Sorry to cancel so last minute but…”.

Of course, you find nothing.

Checking the time, you have fifteen minutes til seven.

Fifteen was plenty of time to get yourself to finally calm the hell down a bit.

You can do this.

It’ll be…what it is.

And no matter what it is, it’ll be.

You breathe a deep breath.

…Maybe you still have time to cancel…

A knock on your front door startles you and you leave your room to stand in your hallway, eyeing the door as if you’re expecting it to burst open despite the gentleness of the sound.

Nothing.

Then another knock.

You brace yourself, swallowing thickly as you approach the door.

Of course you know who it is.

Impending doom.

No! Stop with the negativity, you chastise yourself.

Of course he’d be early. If you weren’t so caught up in your head, you’d roll your eyes at his punctuality. You shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“Early is on time, on time is late.” You can hear him saying it now.

You get to the door and unlock the bolts one at a time, as slowly as you can, trying to drag out the inevitable as you focus on your breathing.

You grab hold of the knob, and once again remind yourself to get your shit together. The door slowly creaks open as you pull on it heavily and when you finally chance at glance at the man at your door, you find Bucky’s eyes on you. His lips part ever so slightly as he takes you in before his gaze comes back up to meet yours.

He titters, the corner of his lips coming up in a half smirk as he breathes a sigh of relief.

“You answered,” he says.

“Yeah,” you blink dumbly at his words, “why wouldn’t I have?”

“I don’t know, you’ve been avoiding me all week,” he accuses. “I was honestly a little worried you were gonna cancel on me.”

You look down, a little embarrassed at being called out. But he was right, you had been avoiding him.

Well not him. It wasn’t him. It was just the nerves. You weren’t sure you’d be able to talk to him, let alone look at him without somehow screwing everything up all too quickly.

Anytime you caught even just a glimpse of him in the hallway or heard what could have been him coming or going as you were, you would make yourself scarce as soon as possible. Even when you clearly saw one another, eye contact established and everything, you’d be gone before he could get a word out in your direction. The last time you spoke with him face to face was New Year’s Eve.

The breathy “yes,” that left your lips still shocked you when you thought back on it. Which you had often this past week. Replaying the way Bucky’s face lit up at your answer, how happy he looked… before you quickly turned tail and rushed your “good night”; hurrying back to your apartment and leaving Bucky standing there in a bit of a stupor, huffing a laugh out his nose as he watched you flee, but his half smile never breaking as he called a good night after you.

Bucky has tried to talk to you since then, of course, but you just kept evading him. If he really wanted or needed to get to you, truthfully, he could have - but he didn’t want to overwhelm you. And a part of him was worried about the two very same things you were, just from his side.

Part of you was afraid you’d just flounder and end up outright canceling and the other part was scared you’d lose all self control and end up kissing him again. Not that that sounded like the worst thing in the world…But still, you kept your distance while you could.

“These are for you, gorgeous,” he continues before you can say anything in response. You only then notice the bouquet of flowers he holds in his hand.

They’re gorgeous. Nicer than the ones he had on Valentine’s day, and even nicer than the bouquet you had been gifted from your coworker that day, too.

“Wow,” is all you can utter as you take them from him. “Thank you,” your voice is quiet as your surprise at the gesture overwhelms you.

You’ve never been given flowers this nice before. And you definitely weren’t expecting it.

“They’re so pretty,” you say, eyes flitting up to see his enamored gaze on you before you look back down to the flowers.

“Just like you,” he says, stepping closer to you in the doorway. “You look stunning.”

You smile, albeit a bit stiffly, at the compliment, offering another ‘thank you’.

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire at his words and you bite your lip as you turn from him to head to the kitchen.

A second passes and you turn back to see him still standing in the doorway, not following you.

You raise a brow, “What are you a vampire?” you ask sarcastically. “Come in,” you instruct with a laugh.

“Didn’t want to be presumptuous,” he says, finally coming inside, closing the door gently behind him.

“Yeah? Since when?”

He smirks again then, following you to the kitchen as you search out your vase.

“I’m being a gentleman,” he states.

You eye him, scoffing before turning back to readying the bouquet for the water.

“What’s funny?” he questions, faux offense in his voice.

“You,” you shake your head, fighting your smile. “...You look nice, by the way,” you compliment after a second of fighting your nerves.

“Thanks, doll.”

You jump as his voice comes from right beside you, his stealth surprising you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he laughs, admiring your handiwork as you arrange the flowers just right.

You turn into him, taking a breath as you really look at him again. The blue of his eyes stand out even more with the depth of his black sweater under his dark wool overcoat. The outfit fits him well, you absentmindedly admire. He really does look nice.

God, he always does.

You breathe in his dark, woody cologne in your proximity and your knees threaten to go wobbly as you do.

Is this really real?

“You ready?” he asks. You flit the thoughts away and meet his eye, nodding in response before you look at his arm as he offers it to you.

You meet his eye once more before taking it and he leads you to the front door, but not before you grab a coat of your own.

Breathe, you remind yourself.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Easy.

—

Walking up to the doors of the restaurant side by side with Bucky, you feel that contentment you only ever feel when he’s around.

The cab ride was nice, the sound of the rain falling outside lulling you unthinkingly into Bucky’s side as you looked out the window, street lights and headlights flashing by - people with umbrellas still walking along the city streets.

You smiled as you felt Bucky’s warmth radiating from him, the slow alternative music flowing through the speakers making everything feel that much more intimate. You’ve spent plenty of time with Bucky, you’ve sat this close to him before, but this still felt different. The date hadn’t even really begun and you could end the night right here and now and still be happy.

Man, was that pathetic?

You started to feel the worry building up inside you again, but then you felt Bucky’s arm come around your shoulders, holding you to him. You instantly relaxed into him, but didn’t turn your head to meet his gaze.

What had you been so concerned about to begin with? It’s not like you were or ever had been forcing yourself or your presence on the man. Bucky asked you on this date. He kissed you first. And even before the party, he always invited you over to his place, and would somehow always manage to convince you to stay just a little bit longer - no matter how long you’d been there. It was clear he liked being around you. All the signs of reciprocated feelings were there. And yet for some reason, you still found it hard to believe.

You felt like you were in a dream.

Bucky guides you up the short steps leading up to the entrance of the establishment, his hand on your back as you take careful steps in your heeled boots on the slippery steps as the rain continues beating down on and all around you. Your left hand is in his metal one as you hold onto it for balance.

Ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you to enter before he gives his name to the host at the front of the restaurant.

“Sergeant Barnes, it’s an honor. Please, follow me this way, your table is all ready,” the young man smiles before he walks you and Bucky to the back, to a closed off area of the restaurant. You look around, a bit confused, but not at all upset at the privacy.

There is a table set for two in the dimmed dining area, a small lit candle on the table along with more flowers. Your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest as you take it all in.

Your seat is pulled out for you by Bucky before he helps you out of your coat, and once you’re sat, he effortlessly pushes your seat back closer to the table before he removes his own coat and takes his seat across from you.

Your host shows you the menus briefly and takes your drink orders before he takes his leave, letting you know your waiter will be by soon to get drinks started.

It’s not a five star restaurant, more like a quaint, family owned eatery, but it feels even more intimate here. And with only you and Bucky back here, you really feel like you’re in your own little world. It’s nice.

It’s more than nice, actually.

It’s damn near perfect.

Bucky smiles at you as he notices you looking at him.

You hadn’t even realized you were, but you don’t look away despite being caught.

“I’m impressed, Barnes,” you offer with a small smile. “I was expecting…well,” you huff a laugh, “I don’t know what I was expecting, but this is still somehow exceeding all expectations.”

“Good,” he smiles. “I know you hate fancy food so I thought this place would be perfect. Mom and Pop’s kinda dinner.” His voice doesn’t sound it, but from the way he breaks eye contact as he over explains himself, you know he wasn’t entirely sure about his decision to come here over somewhere else.

“I do hate fancy food,” you nod. “This was a good choice.” You pick up your menu and look it over, giving some thought to what sounds appetizing. “What are you getting?” you ask without looking up. You know Bucky isn’t looking at the menu because you can feel his stare on you.

“Sirloin,” he says without hesitation, “and you?”

“Mmm. I’m thinking burger.”

“Classic,” he supports.

You titter, setting the menu down after deciding on what you’d be ordering.

Your eyes meet Bucky’s and after a second you give him a nervous smile.

“So…” you begin.

“So,” he echos.

Before you can start to speak again, you see your waiter coming into the private area, walking toward the table, a tray in hand.

You thank him as he sets down the glasses and a basket of warm bread on your table before Bucky gives him your orders.

When you’re all alone again, you copy Bucky as he takes and butters a roll, using the other half of his butter packet so you don’t have to open another one. You tear your roll apart, eating it in pieces as opposed to Bucky who squishes it down and bites into it like it’s a biscuit, amusing you. It’s fresh, so warm, and so fluffy.

“This is so good,” you rave.

“It’s bread and butter, it’s impossible for it not to be,” he smiles.

You point a manicured finger at him as you chew on your next piece, “You got me there.”

He sets his roll down on the plate as he licks his teeth, eyes trained on you as he does. You try to ignore it as he tilts his head while staring at you. It feels like he’s trying to read your mind.

“So…” he repeats your earlier sentiment, “were you going somewhere with that before?”

You kiss your lips, your eyes flicking up to his. You take a breath, measuring your words.

“Yeah. Uhm,” you think a moment longer. “I’ve just been wondering, how long?”

His brows furrow in an unspoken question but he doesn’t get the chance to ask before you elaborate.

“You said you’ve been wanting to do this for months, I just - I’m curious how long exactly you’ve been waiting.”

He knows his answer, but he also knows you won’t believe him if he tells you. Since the very first month you met, he’s been wanting to do this. But he won’t say that. Not right now, anyway.

“A while,” he settles on. “A very long while.”

He holds your eye as he answers you and you know he means it.

You nod, pursing your lips to keep your smile from completely breaking across your face. “A while…” you muse. “What took you so long?”

“I didn’t wanna scare you away,” he says truthfully.

The look in his eye is so intense and earnest, you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“...You wouldn’t have,” you tell him, your voice quiet, not far off from a whisper.

He can’t help his smirk, “I don’t think that’s true,” he scrutinizes you.

You make a face, a cross between a scowl and fighting a pout. But you know he’s right. God, he has a habit of calling you out every time you need to be.

“Yeah, okay,” you begrudgingly agree while he relishes in your pouty acceptance.

It took all of your heart’s strength to agree to a date tonight, even after all the time you’ve spent with him, how real you know your feelings to be - whether or not you wanted to play them off as silly daydreams or not - all of this and you really almost did run away scared without giving him an answer that night. You know you would’ve said no in a heartbeat had it been when you first started getting to know one another. You’ve never been one to risk it, you wouldn’t have then, either.

But sitting across from Bucky here and now, you’re glad you took the chance.

“I guess it’s true what they say…Timing is everything.”

He nods, “And lucky for us, I’m a very patient man.”

You smile, with a quirked brow, “Lucky indeed.” He laughs, his grin full of nothing but admiration and contentment as he leans closer to you across the table. You hadn’t even realized you’d been doing the same, your elbows on the table as you unconsciously wanted to get closer than you already were. Your knees brush, but neither of you move away. In fact, Bucky scoots his chair in closer. Your tongue slips past your lips so quickly you don’t even register it as you wet your lips. You grab your glass, raising it before you and he does the same with his own.

“To my luck?” he asks, lips still curved in his perfect smile.

“And to your patience,” you add, your own soft smile gracing your face as you look into his brilliant blue gaze, hoping he can see the thankfulness you feel for him there.

“To your yes.”

“To the first first date ever that I haven’t wanted to run out on,” you joke.

You lightly clink your glasses, both of you sipping from your drink.

He shrugs as you take another drink from your glass, “Though, the night is young,” he muses.

You sputter on the liquid as you laugh into your glass, earning a similar laugh from Bucky.

You smile through your cough as you look at him again, wiping at the liquid on your chin. His gaze as warm and mirthful as ever.

Yeah, you think. He’s worth the risk.

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #neighbor!bucky x reader #neighbor!bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x plus size reader #ciwywt #bucky x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

698 notes · View notes

hoverboards-and-dragons · 3 months

Note

What song do you think would be the Forbidden Fruits “anthem” so to speak?

Interesting question! I don't think I really have one that plays into all the aspects I like

I can talk about some inspirations if that helps

Edit: holy shit this got long hey Anon uh, hope- hope this is somehow what you were looking for lol

You're in the Band is where a lot of Eve's character came from, mostly the mix of her motherly and rebel traits,

as well as Stick It to the Man and its reprise, with the idea of three Biblical villains coming together after being stuck with the ridiculous and impossible task of fighting God and empowering each other to be more than just a speed bump, to inspire hope of reclaiming justice for themselves when they only existed in stories to be crushed by those unimaginable odds

Only with the power of friendship and teamwork can God be killed is what i think the point of forbidden fruits is actually (not really its more about resistance than overcoming, whittling out your own little corner for those who can't fit the mould and how what seemed like a hopeless stand can suddenly become possible when you arent doing it alone, and how just maybe thats enough, you don't to be able to overcome them completely, surviving when the world wants you dead is revolutionary and disrupting by itself)

Oh, Symphony by Clean Bandit and I Hear a Symphony - Cody Fry, its all of them about each other, their world was perfect and simple and boring until they found each other and now its messy and broken and beautiful; very especially about Lilith and Eve discovering wlw after being made for Adam, parallels and comparisons with the interspecies part of Lucifer's inhumanity falling for and being loved by the first humans (choices being artificially limited for an agenda, lines being crossed and the discovering of countless hidden possibilities, exploration of the self through forbidden paths etc)

This is a weird one but Won't Be Slain Here by Musiclide, hear me out, this is the eternal debate between Heaven and Hell; This is an extremely complicated and nuanced situation, There are only two sides and to pick one is to declare war on the other

Its in the manipulation, the desperation

They are painted as monsters, they have done monstrous things, they were put in awful situations, Heaven is calm and collected and helpful, it can afford to be, it will abandon you when it can't and hell will be all you have anyway

A different ruler of hell takes each chorus before joining the backing vocals of the next, they all have the same story anyway, the same point to make in different fonts, each one is more aggressive than the last, Heaven refusal to change keeps bring it more and more enemies, and their threat is mounting into something substantial and dangerous as they find each other

Heaven has countless justifications, Hell only has one that gets repeated and layered ad nauseam but is not refuted

#yes i am queer trans and neurodivergent how could you tell?#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel eve #hellaverse #forbidden fruits #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel forbidden fruits

15 notes · View notes

svtdarlingbby · 2 years

Text

Seventeen's reaction to finding out their s/o plays piano

Anon asked: Hello! Can I request a Seventeen reaction after finding out their s/o knows how to play piano? I hope your day goes well <3

Seungcheol:

it was your anniversary so Seungcheol wanted to celebrate by surprising you with a weekend long trip

he made sure to book the fanciest hotel during your stay

once you both were able to check in you saw a beautiful grand piano in the middle of the spacious lobby

however you both were ready to check into your hotel room and get ready for the day he planned

once you two were dressed in your fancier clothes and heading out of the hotel, you made sure to tell him that you wanted to check something out before leaving the building

Seungcheol had no clue what it was lol but he went with it

he was kinda amused at how you quickened your pace toward the piano

that amusement was turned into awe as you began to play beautifully

honestly you playing the piano made you somehow even more attractive

nobody was really there in that side of the lobby at that time so your performance for him felt really intimate

once you were done playing he kisses your forehead

"You're so talented, I love you"

Jeonghan:

you and Jeonghan were finally able to purchase your new home!

soon you found yourselves dealing with the difficult part: moving

the boxes seemed endless but thankfully some of the members stopped by to help

just as Jeonghan made his way outside, he saw you pushing out a piano from the moving truck

"When did you get this?" he asked as he made his way over to you

"This is my old piano from my parent's house!" you said as you kept pushing the large instrument toward the house

"That's cool. Are you planning on learning how to play?" he asked as he started to pull on the other side

"Learn? Yoon Jeonghan, watch and see," you smirked as you pulled the cover off the piano and skillfully played a bit of your favorite song with ease, not even looking at the black and white keys

his eyes widened and a smile crept on his face

"Wow Y/N, that was great! Look's like I'm the one who's gonna have to learn to play from you!"

Joshua:

you and Joshua were just having a chill day in the music studio

he was playing his guitar while you were working on something on your laptop

Joshua's guitar with his occasional hums and singing was perfect background noise to keep you focused on your tasks

once you were done with that, Joshua spoke up

"Y/N, do you think something is missing?" he asked

"What do you mean Josh?" you asked in confusion

"I don't know, something just seems off about my guitar skills. Do I sound okay?" he asked looking for an honest opinion

of course his guitar skills were amazing, especially since he's been playing it for so long!

but you kind of wanted to mess with him after eyeing a piano in the corner

"Yes Joshua, your music is missing something very, very important" you said as you tried to hide your smile

"What!? Like what?" his eyes widened

you made your way to the piano and sat down

"It's missing me," you smirked and began to play his song beautifully

Joshua was just kind of shocked at first seeing your hidden talent but smiled as he began to strum his guitar to your melody

you did make a great duo and Joshua was glad to have an s/o who played an instrument too!

Jun:

we all know jun can play piano

what we didn't know was that you inspired him to utilize his piano skills in his performance

one day he was rehearsing the song and you happened to be in the studio

you low-key got bored and gravitated toward the piano and played a harmonious tune

Jun stopped singing and his jaw kind of dropped lol

"Y/N! Since when did you play the piano???"

would go on and on about how good you sound

he kind of wanted to show off so he started to play alongside you and wow you guys are an amazing duo

seeing you inspired him to utilize the piano in his upcoming performance and with your help he was able to master the song

his performance was dedicated to you that night <3

Hoshi:

Soonyoung invited you to hang out for the day in the HYBE building

after eating some snacks with him in the dance studio you excused yourself to go to the restroom

Soonyoung told you to meet him in one of the break rooms where he was going to move his stuff to

just as you made your way back from the restroom you noticed an empty music room

you kinda felt rebellious and snuck in admiring the instruments

once you saw the piano you became enthralled since it's been a while since you've played

playing a few notes here and there made you remember the joy you felt playing

some time definitely passed by, how much? you didn't know

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you Y/N!" exclaimed Soonyoung as he walked in on you playing the piano

you kind of jumped at the sudden noise and felt kinda embarrassed

"I'm so sorry Soonyoung! I got carried away playing I just couldn't resist!" you apologized

"You're fine! I thought you got lost! Also, you can play the piano?" he wondered

"Yeah! I haven't played in a while and I might be a bit rusty but-"

"THAT'S SO COOL! Can you play Cheers?" he asked all giddy

"Um, sure! I can try to match the notes" you said as you tried your best to play the piano part in Cheers

the way you made his whole face light up

Soonyoung thinks you're the most talented piano player ever

Wonwoo:

today Wonwoo and you were going to spend the day at a music museum!

both of you are really interested in the arts so you were both really looking forward to going

seeing the vintage instruments up close and hearing their sounds was so interesting

once the tour was over, you were able to go into the interactive section

something about being surrounded by so many instruments made you really feel like playing the piano

you felt so happy as you saw a piano in the interactive section you just scurried over leaving Wonwoo

"Y/N! Wait for me!" laughed Wonwoo as he caught up to you

"Look Wonwoo! This piano is so cool!" you exclaimed, eyes sparkling

"It's neat" he said as he randomly played some keys

"Watch this," you said before playing your favorite song effortlessly

his eyes widened but he was so impressed!

"Since when did you learn to play piano?"

you explained to him that it was one of your favorite hobbies

as you walked around the rest of the interactive section you noticed Wonwoo hopping around the walking piano on the ground

his long legs somehow made his random playing sound more consistent lol

"Do I sound good, Y/N?" he laughed

Woozi:

since you've been dating for a while he finally invites you to the studio

as soon as you walked in you immediately went to his keyboard (yeah ik it's not really a piano but for the sake of the reaction let's go with it lol)

usually Jihoon would've said something if it was one of his members who wanted to mess around with his equipment but he was in awe with you

with ease you played a beautiful melody seemingly as if it was a second language

"Y/N that was beautiful! You never told me you played!"

he's so impressed aww

and proud to have a musically inclined s/o

definitely invites you to work with him on Seventeen's music (which somehow gets even more better with your help if that was possible!)

DK:

today was the day you finally invited Seokmin over to your house!

he was really impressed by your aesthetic

after baking some brownies together, you decided to chill in your room while they cooled down

"Whoaaa this is your iconic room from the FaceTime calls," he says checking out your room

"Does it look better in person?" you asked

"I imagined it to be dirtier" he joked earning a pillow to the face from you

you both laughed at your mini pillow fight until he noticed something

"Whoa, I didn't see this in the background of our calls" he said gesturing toward a small piano on the farther corner of your room

"Oh that, yeah I play a little," you admitted

"Can I hear you play?" he asked with puppy eyes

you kind of felt embarrassed to play around others but since Seokmin insisted with those adorable puppy eyes how could you not?

"Don't judge if I'm bad" you said half-laughing

instead, you played a fun upbeat tune effortlessly

after you were done, you turned around and Seokmin had the dreamiest smile on his face

"You're so talented! That was amazing!" he said lightly pinching your cheek making your cheeks warm with embarrassment at his praise

Mingyu:

being all cooped up inside was making you bored so of course you bothered Mingyu about it

he suggested going to the park for a stroll to get some fresh air

seeing all the greenery was very calming as the two of your held hands and admired nature

after a while, you two decided to take a break and found the bench area

just as Mingyu sat down, you spotted something new

it had been a while since you'd been to the park, so you were not expecting a public piano to be situated by the benches

"Hold on," you said getting up and making your way to the instrument

you began to play a harmonious tune feeling truly at peace

Mingyu made his way over with an expression of awe and pride

he felt himself smile more when he realized you were playing a Seventeen song

as you finished, you felt his stare and he had the cutest cheesiest smile on his face

"You don't know how much I love you right now"

Minghao:

today Minghao was gonna meet you at your university so you could hang out between classes

you asked him to meet you at the music building since you had one of your classes there

he texted you that he was gonna be a little late since he missed the bus so you decided to wander around the music building

seeing a fancy piano close to the entrance was tempting

the building wasn't that busy either so you might as well play the piano a little until he gets here

you must have gotten pretty focused playing because you don't even notice Minghao's texts

He wondered why you hadn't responded yet but nonetheless entered the building a lo and behold he saw a beautiful sight

you're sitting there gracefully playing the piano

he didn't want to interrupt you so he stayed a bit behind and watched with a proud smile on his face

after the song ended he decided to sneak up on you

"BOO!" he exclaimed as he held your shoulders

"OH MY GOD MINGHAO!" you jumped

"So you paid more attention to the piano than me? You should be glad I'm impressed with your skills!" he said laughing and hugging you.

Seungkwan:

Seungkwan texted you and told him he was able to get off of practice early today

you told him you were still at work but he was welcome to stop by

now you never were really specific about your job to Seungkwan, all that he knew was that you were a teacher of some sort

he made his way into your workplace and the front desk person told him what room you were in

he felt himself smile at the student's crafts hung up in the hallways

as he made his way toward the room, he heard beautiful piano music playing as he slowed his steps

"Now you try!" he heard you say before he heard some more shaky tunes follow

Seungkwan peaked into the room and saw you instructing one of your elementary aged students

you were so patient with them and when you played was music to his ears

this student was truly lucky

he felt his heart warm at the sight and he was so impressed and proud of you

he didn't want to intrude so he waited until the student's lesson was over

"You didn't tell me I was dating the most talented and sweetest piano instructor" he said smiling as he hugged you

Vernon:

you and Vernon finally got a day off so you guys decided to walk around town and shop

as he held your hand, you guys approached a cute music store which happened to have a piano underneath its shaded porch

"Wait Vernon, give me a minute," you said as you approached the piano

as soon as you started to play an upbeat melody on the piano, a warm smile crept onto his face

he started to record you in fact!

since that street was relatively busy, it was no surprise that a small crowd made its way to listen to your skillful playing

as if on cue, Vernon took off his hat and people began to tip you!

all the while as he recorded

he made sure to tell everyone that the skillful piano player was his s/o

he was so proud that day haha he might've even bragged to the members about this event

Chan:

the day Chan found out you played piano was the day he actually felt drained/unmotivated to dance (shock!)

you happened to accompany him to the studio but he just wasn't feeling it

"Idk Y/N, maybe I'm burnt out or something but this music isn't it for me," he said as he turned off the radio

"I've got an idea!" you said as you spotted the lonesome piano in the corner

you played your favorite song, one that you were passionate about the most

"Okay this is some good stuff" he said before freestyling to your song

once the song was over he had the cheesiest grin on his face

"Y/N you need to play for me more often!" he said putting an arm around you

313 notes · View notes

4200nemobackup · 2 years

Note

Can I get uhhhh

More sub!V please, maybe more domestic vibes? Maybe explaining a bit more of like what you mentioned in the ‘first showing your dom side to them.’ You know, with the wide eyes, (he can cry if he wants to but in a good way) and the awe and the ❤️ bls

Thank you if you consider!

Of course! Sorry these are taking so long :( I’ve been immensely busy with school but I’m back on track!

____________________________________________

Ask above: “More Sub!V please, maybe more domestic vibes? Maybe explaining a bit more of like what you mentioned in the ‘first showing your dom side to them’ you know with the wide eyes, (he can cry if he wants to but in a good way)”

Sub!V- domestic headcannons

Pairing: Sub!taehyung x Domme!reader

A/N: hey everyone! I’m back lol. These are going to be in regular head cannon format(listed in bullet points) but don’t worry! I will be as thorough as possible when describing these! As always, thank you to the anon who requested this, and I hope you enjoy! If it isn’t up to par, feel free to request again!

Taglist: @bloodline1632 @lchimmyl @monochrome-707 @zoroscrustyboogers0

____________________________________________

*Elaborating on what I said in my post about domme!reader revealing their dominant side, I specifically remember saying that Tae would most likely show heart eyes at the mention of your dominant side

- more often than not, I can be seen declaring that this man is a very soft sub. He is the soft sub prince in fact. Everything you do makes him feel comfortable, almost like a baby

- he feels like a kid in a candy store, as you are both sitting down revealing your once hidden kinks to him. He never imagined that anyone could match his kink list so well. Most people he had been with had put him in this uncomfortable position where he kind of had to pretend that he was at least as switch. It made him unhappy with his sex life.

- you changed his life for the better honestly. He felt free, to be able to explore his bed peace without feeling so constricted by other peoples wishes and societal standards.

- “To be honest, I like to be more dominant in bed.”

-boom, he’s already in sub space.

-When you guys start exploring, you find that he’s not one for the hardcore pain kinks and things of that nature

-domestic sub tae is extra docile. He’s usually sleeping around the house in a soft hoodie and sweatpants combo. Don’t be fooled by this sleeping beauty though, he’s not wearing any underwear under his sweatpants

-he likes it when you wake him up with a handjob or blowjob. He purposely doesn’t wear underwear as he naps because of this fact.

-continuing, like I also mentioned in my other post, he’s baffled by your knowledge

-Taehyung has just known that he felt submissive for a long while, but he’s never really known what he liked

-but somehow you know exactly what he likes. You know every detail on how to have him ruining his sweatpants in five minutes

-he likes fluffy handcuffs, loves fluffy handcuffs actually

-other than that, he loves when you edge him.

-oh poor baby cries and whimpers so good for you

-his deep groans are everything, but his whines are infinite.

-he’s one of those subs that you gag with their own underwear in their mouth

-please fuck him

-he’s a pillow princess at home, so make sure to make him cum in missionary

-hold his hand too

-baby loves holding hands in missionary at least

-he also loves wrapping his arms around you when you fuck him.

-he’s so polite

-“master may I please………”

-how can you say no to him after he asks like that?

-puts his hands in front of his face whilst receiving pleasure

-pull them away from his face and he’ll actually cum everywhere

-“look at me tae…..that’s it…Good boy”

-fucking melts and creams when you call him a good boy

-he will do anything to be called a good boy

-he deep cleans the house every day just so you can praise him and call him a good boy

-he loves surprise blowjobs.When you just pull his pants down and lick up his pretty cock

#sub!idol #sub!bts #sub!taehyung #sub!jungkook #sub!jimin #sub!hoseok #sub!jin #sub!namjoon #sub!yoongi

265 notes · View notes

riversofmars · 1 year

Note

I see. Well I find companion support group absolutely amazing, been reading any fics on that especially ones with other companions being added but no one includes Grace Holloway. I asked someone else actively doing requests but turns out they haven't even seen the TV movie :( So was just wondering if you would be interested.

Alright, lovely Anon, here we are!! I really hope you like this, it ended up a lot longer than anticipated but it as a lot of fun and I don't do 'short', really, so XD

I hope you don't mind, I ended up combining two things: Grace's experience of visiting London and the support group and Liv's experience of staying in London post "Stranded". The two really compliment each other! Yes, somehow this turned into another Stranded Fix-It, sue me. Rating G, Length 7.3k, might be worth reading this one on AO3 rather than under the cut lol!

Hope you like it!

Missed Opportunities

Grace nearly turned around and walked away. It would have been a waste of a lot of money and holiday time but now that she was here, she simply felt stupid. "Here" was London. She had made the journey across the pond on nothing but a hunch and a memory. A memory that was over twenty years old. The average active working memory of a human was about ten years, she knew, things older tended to fade with the exception of deeply memorable events. After such a long time she couldn't be sure her memory was entirely accurate but things had certainly been... memorable. One mad New Year's Eve at the turn of the millennium...

Years later, whenever she spoke of it to anyone, they would make fun of her, assuming she'd simply had a bit too much to drink that night and ended in a vivid dream. Sometimes, when she was feeling particularly low, she almost believed that too. She rarely spoke of it now, to anyone. Most of the time, she didn't think about it at all anymore. She had carried on with her life, her career, had found love again and married, and things had been good... but there had always been that nagging feeling of a missed opportunity; of something amazing that she had allowed to slip through her fingers.

The Doctor. The Doctor and his mad blue box of tricks. The Master and his evil plan that they had foiled at the last moment. The Doctor's offer to see the universe with him. And the regret she felt for having turned him down. All but a distant dream.

At least until she had come across a social media post that struck too close to home. She hadn't even been thinking about the Doctor and New Year's 2000 at the time. She had been reading an article about the state of the UK's National Health Service and felt for her colleagues across the pond, but then, something in one of the comments on the article had given her pause. Things had spiralled from there. She had taken a deep dive into conspiracy theories, far removed from her scientific nature, and found an awful lot more than she had ever dreamed of.

And now she was in London, standing in front of what looked like a community centre with a support group advertised on the door. Of course it wasn't really a bereavement and loss counseling group - at least from what she had been able to find online. That was just a cover story. One could hardly advertise a meeting group for people who had once encountered a time travelling alien... and yet, she had made the jump across the pond with no other reason in mind. If it was a waste of her time, it would teach her not to trust things she found on the internet but if it wasn't... she had so many questions. Questions that had been weighing on her for over twenty years and if she could get answers to some of them, it would be well worth the trouble.

That, however, meant she had to take the plunge and actually go in.

Grace took a deep breath. She was a successful heart surgeon, accomplished and admired in every way, she could manage the task of walking inside a building, even taking the risk of making a fool of herself. What did she have to lose? No-one here knew her.

"Are you looking for something?" A voice drew her out of her internal conflict and made her jump.

"S-Sorry?" The surgeon stuttered, her head snapping around. She felt as if she had been caught red-handed, even if she knew she had done nothing wrong.

"It's just... you've been standing here a while." The voice belonged to a woman, slightly younger than Grace herself and significantly shorter, with shoulder-length brunette hair and bright eyes. Her brow had knitted into her curious frown as she approached.

"Yeah I... I'm not sure I'm in the right place." Grace didn't know what to make of her.

"You're not from around here, are you?" The brunette observed, tilting her head a little. "The accent," she clarified before the surgeon could muster a response. "I'm not either but I've been here a while now so... maybe I can help? What are you looking for?" It was a kind offer but Grace felt it wasn't one she could actually take her up on. That would have involved explaining why she was here...

"You'll laugh if I tell you," she tried to put her off and the other woman gave her a smile that did wonders to lighten her otherwise surly demeanour.

"I've heard it all. Don't worry," she gave back kindly and cast a glance towards the community centre. "What makes you come all this way from the US?"

"I-" Even if she had wanted to tell her, Grace wouldn't have known where to start. She was beginning to feel incredibly silly. "I'm sorry, this was a mistake, I don't know why I came here." She shook her head, looked up the road for a way out of the awkward situation. Her husband would laugh when he found out she had chickened out. He had been ever so supportive and encouraged her to go, hoping she would find some answers to the questions that had bothered her for the past twenty years. At least he believed her when so many others did not. He would be disappointed, surely, unless he had just indulged her all this time…

Grace turned to leave but then, the woman said something that made her stop dead in her tracks.

"You wouldn't happen to know a blue police box, would you?" She questioned and Grace whipped around.

"How do you-" She stared at her and the brunette grinned triumphantly.

"Thought as much," she chuckled and pulled a hand from her jumper, extending it. "I'm Liv Chenka."

Grace blinked, overwhelmed for a moment. If she knew about the police box it meant that- The surgeon wrestled her emotions back in check and quickly grasped her hand.

"Grace. Grace Holloway," she introduced herself and Liv smiled, almost knowingly.

"He's talked about you," she observed as she retreated her hand.

"What?"

"The Doctor," the brunette elaborated, her expression a picture of kindness. "We went to San Francisco once. 'Died and born again here' he said, of course we made him tell us about it," there was a certain wistfulness in her voice. "Lovely city, though I suppose we were there a bit before your time." Grace couldn't believe what she was hearing. Well, she could and she couldn't. It was utterly ridiculous. The woman in front of her insisted she had travelled in time with the person she had come to doubt ever existed. It was a lot to take in, almost more than she could comprehend, but the one thing that struck her, the one thing that stuck was: She hadn't made it up. The Doctor was real. And he was out there.

"So I-" She struggled for composure, tears of relief after years of nagging doubts and pent up tension threatened to overcome her.

"Are you okay?" Liv's expression turned to concern. She took a step closer but didn't seem to dare to reach out, not when Grace was visible trying to keep herself together.

"Yes... yes... I just... it's been twenty years... I thought perhaps..." She drew a deep breath and turned her gaze skywards to prevent her tears from falling. "I thought perhaps I had just made the whole thing up," she confessed at last.

"You haven't," Liv offered gently and didn't push for further explanation. Perhaps, Grace thought, if she knew the Doctor, she understood just what she was going through. "Do you want to come in?" The brunette offered and gestured towards the door of the community centre.

"I... I guess I should..." Grace remained hesitant. She followed her gaze. Where before, she had had doubts about why she was even here, she now found herself wondering if she had any place to be. She had met the Doctor only once whereas Liv seemed to know him better than that...

"Don't worry. We don't bite. Everyone's lovely and we all have stories to tell," Liv encouraged her, seemingly sensing her hesitation.

"So you... you travelled with him? Actually travelled in time?" Grace asked, feeling a twinge of jealousy at the notion, and the other woman nodded.

"I did, yeah, for a long time," she gave back and there was that wistfulness again. No, more than wistfulness. It was sadness. Sorrow.

"And now you're..." The surgeon wanted to ask more, even if it probably wasn't her place, but Liv interrupted her, gently, but decisively.

"Not," she clarified curtly. "We'll be late if we don't go in."

"Right, okay..." Grace nodded and Liv smiled before climbing the steps and holding the door open for her.

---

Grace wasn't sure what she had expected, but what she found was rather similar to the average AA meeting portrayed on TV. They were sitting in a circle on uncomfortable chairs with makeshift name tags and tea in paper cups. She usually would have preferred coffee over tea but since she was in the UK, she figured she ought to adapt. So she sipped the hot liquid and got absorbed in the task of assessing the people around the room. They were all sorts of ages, some older, some significantly younger than her. They had greeted her kindly and Grace had taken a seat next to Liv, accepting her unspoken offer of being her guide through it all.

The brunette had taken it upon herself to introduce her to everyone: A lovely elderly chap called Ian, a bubbly blonde by the name of Jo. Mel, a kind lady who had come to sit on her other side. There were Tegan and Ace and Kate... all pleasantly inquiring about her journey here... A young girl - Yaz - had greeted her eagerly, always happy to meet new people. And there were more: Graham, Ryan, Dan, Osgood, Martha, Gwen, Harry... Liv had explained that there were a lot more and that attendance fluctuated but already, Grace found herself overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people the Doctor had encountered in one way or another.

"We have a new member," Graham announced, making Grace snap to attention. She hadn't expected to take an active role in proceedings, she would have been quite content to simply sit and listen, but it seemed that was not to be.

"I- Yes, I- When I found out about this group I thought I ought to-" She blushed a little, uncomfortable in the centre of attention. Where the Doctor was concerned, she was out of her depth.

"You've come a long way," Kate observed kindly.

"Yes. I met the Doctor in San Francisco over twenty years ago..." Grace said and found everyone listening intently, with kind smiles and genuine interest. No-one was doubting her. No-one was making fun of her. And everyone understood. It was a wonderfully freeing feeling and she felt encouraged for it. "Just the once and I-" She took a deep breath. "I don't have that much of a story to tell, it was one night. One mad night of adventure, dealing with the Master and… I guess I'm just glad to have confirmed that I didn't make up the whole thing."

"Well, you are in good company," Ace smiled and Grace felt as though a great burden was lifted off her shoulders at last.

"It's difficult when no-one else understands... but we do. We've all been there, love," Jo said, seemingly sensing her emotional state.

"Thank you, that- that actually means a lot," Grace nodded gratefully and managed a small smile of her own while everyone beamed at her.

"It means a lot to all of us," Yaz replied. " The Doctor means a lot to all of us and being able to share our adventures, even if they're over... whether they were a big or a small part of our lives, we were all changed by it. We learned that there was so much more in the universe and that's such a wonderful gift." Her words betrayed a wisdom Grace wouldn't have thought someone as young as her capable of and her words shone with such affection, it was lovely to hear and lifted the surgeon's spirits more than she had thought possible. Perhaps she really had done the right thing by making the trip.

"The journey never ends," Tegan hummed in agreement and Yaz nodded.

"It doesn't," she agreed. "And we may see them again. Or we may not and that's also... fine..." It was obvious that the latter was something Yaz struggled voicing but she managed it. "But we're all connected by that wonderful, wondrous thing and that's something so special."

Grace found herself nodding, her heart a little lighter, even as she noticed Liv slumping in her chair beside her. Before she had a chance to enquire or wonder about the heaviness of her demeanour, Osgood demanded Grace's attention.

"What was your Doctor like? What did he look like? Where does he fit in?" She asked eagerly.

"Well, he... he was this little man before, he had been shot and... I was operating on him but he had two hearts!" Grace recalled, unpleasantly reminded by her failure to save his life back then.

"That can be quite confusing," Martha chuckled.

"I think I may have... killed him... by accident," Grace confessed, mortified by the whole experience.

"Let's just assume it was the gunshot wounds," Kate interjected.

"But then he came back. With a younger face and dark curls. He was quite dashing," the surgeon continued and a smile came to her lips as the memories took shape in her mind.

"Oh, that's him, alright," Liv hummed beside her. "Fairly certain we know the same Doctor.

"So how many are there?" Grace asked, curious beyond belief by this point.

"Well, that's quite the difficult question," Osgood adjusted the glasses on her nose, obviously ready to launch into lengthy explanation but Mel interrupted:

"I remember his blonde curls..." she smiled fondly.

"I have met a fair few, it's quite the change every time," Kate carried on and Yaz shook her head, bemused:

"I always struggle to imagine her as a bloke!"

"Imagine our surprise!" Tegan shot back and the room descended into laughter, all except for Liv, as Grace noted with curiosity and concern. Something seemed to be weighing heavily on her and the surgeon wasn't sure whether if it was any of her business to try to figure out what it was. The brunette had been so kind to offer her help tomake this big step that meant so much to her, she would gladly return the favour.

"This is an awful lot to wrap your head around..." She stated, once the laughter had died down. "I never expected all this... it's more than I could have hoped for." And it really was. After over twenty years, she finally felt understood.

"You're one of us, Grace, feel free to dial in any time. I imagine making the trip would be quite the expense every time, what, without a TARDIS," Graham offered kindly.

"Thank you. Thank you all so very much, it just... thank you. It's wonderful to be surrounded by people that understand," she nodded gratefully, regarding each and every one of them with a smile.

"Oh boy, do we understand," Jo grinned. "Let me tell you about the time-"

---

When the meeting concluded, Grace felt it had been over far too quickly. As she said her goodbyes, it didn't feel like an end though, it felt like the beginning of many wonderful friendships and she couldn't be happier. With numbers and email addresses exchanged, she felt like she was well set up for the future. She would have stayed longer, chatting some more, if she hadn't noticed Liv making for the exit all by herself.

Grace quickly said her final goodbyes and rushed after her.

"Where are you going now?" She inquired boldly once she caught up with her outside.

"Just... home, I guess..." Liv answered slowly, surprised to have been followed.

"Do you want to grab a coffee? I haven't really got anything else planned and I- we didn't get to talk much," she observed and it was true. Everyone had spoken at length about their time with the Doctor, answered Grace's questions and shared their experiences. Liv, however, had remained pensive through most of it.

"Sure... why not..." The brunette shrugged and forced a smile. Her demeanour seemed changed to before the meeting, almost as if the event had taken a lot out of her. Perhaps it had... Grace was determined to find out as they headed towards a Costa Coffee across the road.

“You said you weren’t from around here?” Grace made a bold opening once they were seated, eager to find out more about her and thus, perhaps, learn what was bothering her. “Where is home for you?”

“Kaldor,” Liv answered simply and when it became obvious that Grace was at a bit of a loss, she elaborated: “A different planet.”

“Wow, that’s…” the surgeon didn’t know what to say to that and the brunette smiled, though the joy didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Been here a while now…”

“Must be quite the change,” Grace observed and Liv gave a little shrug with her eyes angled down, watching her coffee splash up the sides of her mug as she stirred it.

“You could say that,” she hummed and Grace decided to take the plunge.

"If you don't mind me asking... you don't seem... happy... here,” she stated gently as that much was blindingly obvious.

"I'm not," Liv shrugged nonchalantly and the surgeon was taken aback by her candour. It seemed as though she didn't see a need in pretending otherwise.

"Then why..." Grace wasn't sure how to phrase her question. What she wanted to ask was ‘Why would you stop travelling with the Doctor if you miss it so much’ but she couldn't very well say that, could she? Fortunately, Liv elaborated without her having to enquire.

"I... made a mistake... asked the Doctor to leave me here and I shouldn't have... now it's too late," she explained bitterly and indignantly dropped her spoon onto the saucer.

"You can't... you can't call him or-" Grace wasn't sure how the whole thing worked. Her experience was rather limited but she felt she ought to say something like it.

"Doesn't work like that," Liv hummed miserably. "I wish I-" She took a deep breath but caught herself before saying any more. "You don't need to hear this." She shook her head and gave her a sad smile before she took a sip of her drink.

"I turned him down," Grace blurted out, voicing something she had purposefully not mentioned at the meeting and had had no intention of sharing with anyone, but suddenly she felt like she needed to. "The Doctor," she clarified when Liv raised her eyebrows at her. "He said I could come with him but I... didn't."

"And you regret it," the brunette observed with a knowing smile.

"A bit... maybe... I don't know. We had a mad adventure and that was quite the experience but I had a life... I still do. And I'm happy. Sometimes I just wonder what else there could have been," she gave a small shrug and awkward smile.

"A hell of a lot, is what. But if you're happy, that's not a bad place to be," Liv hummed after brief consideration. "Life with the Doctor is brilliant but also... it's not fulfilling in the same way. He's just... he's a mad dream. And he changes, as you've heard. He doesn't tie himself to one person or one companion or- Times change. He changes. Nothing is forever when you're with the Doctor," she gave a bitter laugh and Grace's heart went out to her. While she was lacking a lot of pieces to the puzzle, her pain was more than obvious. Liv dropped her eyes, taking keen interest in her coffee again as she fiddled with a napkin. "That concept of lasting happiness and fulfillment... that thing that humans need... you can't find that in him. You find that in-"

"Another human?" Grace offered as suddenly, the penny dropped.

"For instance, yeah," Liv mumbled and they way her shoulders slumped and she wiped her eyes awkwardly, told the surgeon everything she needed to know.

"So you weren't alone when you travelled with him? There was someone else?" She deduced. "Earlier when you said about visiting San Francisco, you said 'we made him tell us'."

"You are observant," Liv mumbled and Grace smiled:

"I'm a doctor, I have an eye for detail."

"I'm a doctor too, actually... well, a med-tech..." the brunette replied after a brief pause of heavy silence.

"You are?" Grace's eyebrows shot up, curious and eager to learn every detail she was willing to share.

"Yeah. In the future, in the 30 th century, which is where I'm from, medical professionals are called med-techs," she explained.

"30 th century?!" Grace gaped and Liv gave a little chuckle, a momentary reprieve from the heaviness that seemed to engulf her.

"So you can imagine 21 st century medicine is just not for me... I miss practising... I miss working..." She sunk into herself once more. "One of the many disappointments..."

"Why did you ask to stay here? If you don't mind my asking," Grace decided to brave the question. She was sure the other woman would simply refuse her if she pushed too far. She seemed like the sort of person that would.

"I... I met someone here," Liv answered after a moment of deliberation in which she seemed to be weighing her options. In the end, she appeared to settle on letting her in and Grace thought that maybe, Liv, too, needed someone to understand her. "We were stranded for a while in 2020 when the TARDIS wasn't working and... things were going well, I thought it would... it was nice, good, for a while but it didn't last. There was just too much that made me unhappy here. The fact I couldn't work. Knowing I would never see my sister again... Missing my-" Liv broke off and Grace thought she knew where she was going.

"The other person that was travelling with you?"

"Sometimes you just can't see what's right in front of you, can you..." the med-tech gave a sad smile.

"I'm sorry," Grace offered as there wasn't much else she could say. What was there to say? She knew all about missed opportunities...

"Me too," Liv took a deep breath. "But what's done is done, I'm stuck here now and... What about you? Sounds like you made the right decision staying here. New isn't always better," she seemed eager to change the topic.

"I still would have liked to see some of the universe, I think..." the surgeon answered softly.

"Who knows... maybe he'll pop by eventually and you can ask for a little trip. If he does, you better call me though so he can-" Liv stopped herself once more, apparently unwilling to indulge the hope that she didn't seem to have anymore.

"There must be something you can do," Grace reached out across the table for Liv's hand and gave it a squeeze of comfort. "You can't just... I mean, what do you do? If you can't work, if you-" She didn't want her to give up. It simply felt wrong. For someone to be stuck in the wrong time, the wrong place, all alone. She wished there was something she could do to help.

"Sit at home, mostly, dream about the stars... I mean, I can do some things... UNIT... this top secret government organisation that Kate Stewart runs? I help them every now and then with technology, freelance, sort of... but it's... when I get home, I'm still all alone," Liv confessed miserably. "And Tania- that's who I was with, who I stayed for... She's lovely. She still tries to be a friend to me but it's... it's not fair on her and I don't want to be a burden, I just want-" Tears welled up in her expressive eyes.

"Your other friend back?" Grace made an educated guess. "It's not really about the Doctor, is it?"

"Yeah..." Liv mumbled and a thought struck the surgeon.

"Have you told anyone else?" She questioned, considering the effort it had taken to get the truth out of the med-tech.

"What do you mean?" Liv frowned.

"The rest of the group? You were there but you... well, everyone had something to say but you didn't," Grace observed. Everybody had been so eager in their response, so kind, Grace couldn't imagine they wouldn't want to help Liv as well if she had said what was weighing on her.

"I've told them about my adventures with the Doctor," the med-tech answered, almost defensively.

"But have you told them about this? That you want to find a way to get back to them?" Grace wasn't dissuaded.

"They don't need to hear about my heartbreak," Liv huffed.

"Maybe they do. Maybe someone has a way to, I don't know, reach out?" The surgeon carried on. "Unless you tell them that you need help, that you're unhappy, they won't think to offer it."

"I suppose..." the med-tech mumbled.

"What about that technology that you were talking about? From UNIT? Could you not-" She was stabbing in the dark now. She had no idea what it took to reach out to the Doctor but surely with all the expertise gathered in that community centre, they could work something out. The other former companions all seemed to have closure, Liv, however...

"What's the use... why would they take me back after I walked away?" The med-tech huffed and Grace felt she was getting closer to the root course of it all.

"So the reason is not that you couldn't reach out, it's that you won't," she deduced and Liv couldn't muster a response. She simply looked incredibly guilty and it was all the confirmation Grace needed so she carried on: "I mean, I'm a heart surgeon, not a psychiatrist but... maybe forgive yourself for your mistake, be ready to admit to it and... try. Just try. Else you will regret it for the rest of your life." That was something she could attest to and Liv easily picked up on it too:

"Like you're regretting not going with the Doctor?"

"A missed opportunity, yes..." she admitted with a wistful smile. "Perhaps we could... both... just... try. See what happens. And if nothing comes of it at least we can say we tried."

"Are you hoping I can get you a meeting with the Doctor?" Liv raised her eyebrows and her lips curled into a smile that blew away the heaviness of the moment. It felt as though they were coming out the other side at last.

"Maybe..." Grace gave a sheepish grin as well as she felt the atmosphere around them lighten with a sudden rush of excitement and optimism. Perhaps it was false hope but what if it wasn't… It was the sort of closure she felt she needed after everything and well, her new friend stood a lot more to gain.

"Bit cheeky, isn't it? Bit selfish," Liv grinned, amused.

"It would mean reuniting you with your friend, too," Grace reminded her and Liv didn't seem able to argue with that. Instead she confessed:

"I left because I didn't think Helen would ever feel the same way about me as I did for her and I thought at least with Tania, I could find some measure of contentment."

"But you didn't," Grace deduced, understanding at last with all the cards on the table.

"I didn't," Liv admitted sorrowfully.

"Does it matter how Helen feels about you?" Grace asked tentatively. Without knowing any of the women in question, it was difficult to judge the situation. The best she could hope for was that Liv would explain in greater detail.

"She's likely angry..." the med-tech mumbled, hanging her head. "She didn't want me to leave but she also didn't- I wanted her to say something, for her to admit that- if-" she gestured vaguely at nothing at all and Grace understood anyway. "I shouldn't have pushed, I should have been happy to just have her in my life in whatever capacity and not been so selfish." She gnawed her bottom lip anxiously. "I don't know if she'd forgive me."

"Surely it's worth a shot," the surgeon offered gently. "I think you've punished yourself enough."

"Do you... do you really think so?" Liv sounded ever so insecure as she looked up to her and Grace smiled:

"If you have a way to contact them, if you have that opportunity... don't miss it."

"Come on then," Liv jumped to her feet, releasing her hand and abandoning her coffee.

"Where are we going?" Grace frowned, confused.

"My place. And I'm warning you now, it's a state." She barely looked back as she spoke, making for the door.

"And what-" The surgeon scrambled to grab her handbag and downed the rest of her coffee in one go.

"I've built something... I signalling device... with bits and pieces I took from UNIT. I just haven't..." Liv waved for her to come along and she did.

"Why not?" Grace couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I didn't think it was a good idea, I didn't think I..." Liv let her voice trail off as she left the coffee shop. Once out in the fresh air, the med-tech took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts and her emotions before she squared her jaw and made a decision: "But you're right, I just need to take the plunge and- and even if Helen doesn't want me there, at least I can ask the Doctor to take me to Kaldor where my sister is... at least there I can work and have an actual life..."

"That sounds like a good idea," Grace agreed, it made a lot of sense and she was swept up in her excitement as they hurried up the street.

"Besides... you came all this way to London, can't have you waste another opportunity," Liv grinned, casting a sideways glance at her.

"Thank you," the surgeon gave a weak smile as well.

"Don't thank me yet. I don't even know if it'll work. Or if the right Doctor will turn up, or-" Liv fixed her eyes forward once more.

"But at least we will have tried," Grave interjected and the med-tech nodded in agreement:

"At least we will have tried." That's all any of them could do.

---

"This is..." Grace didn't really have words to describe the state of her new friend's flat at 107 Baker Street. 'Mess' was probably the most accurate term. Dishes were stacked high. The place could do with a good hoover and dusting. There was stuff everywhere. She didn't need to be a psychiatrist to spot the symptoms of depression littered around the place.

"I did tell you not to expect too much," Liv didn't pay much attention to her, she marched over to a shelf. "Now let me just..."

What struck Grace was how empty the place seemed once you looked past the mess. There wasn't much in the way of personal effects, just a few books and dvds here and there but otherwise, not much filled the empty space and empty life... One thing she spotted as she wandered over to the sofa was a stack of photos. They lay spread over the setteegb and coffee table, some had even dropped to the floor. They were snapshots as one might take with their phone and they featured three people again and again. Liv, of course, was in many of them and there was the Doctor. Grace recognised him immediately even if his wardrobe was a little less extravagant and his hair had had a cut. His smile was as radiant as ever. There was a second woman too. A blonde with a bright smile and kind eyes. It didn't take a genius to work out that this was Helen. She was in almost every picture, the obvious object of adoration of the photographer.

"These are lovely pictures," Grace observed as she picked one from the pile in which the three of them were beaming at the camera while eating ice cream.

"It's... it's all I have of them," Liv answered in a small voice and blushed self-consciously.

"It's definitely him," the surgeon pointed out the Doctor and Liv nodded as she made her way over, carrying a small device unlike anything Grace had ever seen before.

"Good," the med-tech smiled as she set it down on the coffee table. “That should make things easier if this does work…”

"And this is Helen I take it?" Grace asked, pointing out the blonde in the picture and the way Liv's face lit up told her everything she needed to know.

"Yeah..." She reached out and took the picture, brushing her thumb across the surface before gathering the pile together. Grace noticed the way in which some pictures had creased and others bore tear stains... she hoped they would succeed in their endeavour. "Here we are..." Liv turned to the device on the coffee table.

"Are you okay?" The surgeon asked and received an absent-minded nod. There clearly was a lot going on in the other woman's mind.

"Yeah..." She confirmed nonetheless and took a deep breath.

"Maybe run a brush through your hair," Grace joked to stop her overthinking and it worked.

"OI!" Liv exclaimed, affronted and amused but before she could put up a defense a voice sounded from the other side of the room.

"Bit late for that."

Both women whirled around and there, in the doorway to the kitchen, stood the Doctor, regarding both of them with a kind smile.

"Doctor?!" Liv found her voice first and exclaimed. Her eyes shot in between her device and the Time Lord and back again. She hadn't even activated it yet! "How did you- when?!"

"Been here a while... you really did let this place go. That'll teach me entrusting you with my things," he mused, scanning the room with keen eyes. Finally, his attention turned to Grace and he smiled: "Hello Grace," he stated simply and the surgeon was stunned into silence.

"What?! How?!" Liv continued raging while Grace just about managed a small smile of greeting:

"Doctor."

"I haven't even..." Liv pointed at the device and the Doctor chuckled.

"I've had a message from UNIT, as it happens," he revealed and his expression turned more serious as he regarded his friend with concern: "Messages of concern. Someone called Kate Stewart? And from Tania too..."

"I-" Liv didn't seem to know what to say and Grace felt validated in her previous assessment. Of course the others had wanted to help and Liv's state of being had not gone unnoticed.

"But I see you have found lovely company," the Doctor observed with a smile to Grace who still didn't really know what to say or do. Liv, meanwhile, seemed to be pulling herself together and realise what was truly important now:

"Doctor, where is..." She didn't get to finish her question. Helen appeared beside the Doctor.

"Hello Liv," the blonde spoke softly, insecurely.

"Helen!" At that, Liv lost all remaining inhibitions. She rushed forward, closed the short space between them, and pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

"And you, Grace? Here of all places? How have you been?" The Doctor turned from the display of affection, pure and heart-warming as Liv mumbled apologies and Helen held on to her tightly, evidently more than happy to forget all about it. Grace's attention snapped to the Doctor.

"I-" She had had so many questions, so many things she'd wanted to say but now that it came to it, she couldn't phrase any of them and instead, chose to devote her attention to the lovely reunion they were witness to.

"Helen, I'm so sorry, I should never have-" Liv pulled away and brushed tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry, please forgive me, it was a mistake," she pleaded. "All I wanted was for you to- But it doesn't matter. I don't need any of that, I just need you back in my life and I-" Her words spilled out of her like a waterfall and it seemed Helen had heard more than enough already.

"Liv, shut up," she whispered, her voice heavy with tears of her own. And she silenced her with a kiss. Grace wanted to cheer but she settled for a content smile, one the Doctor shared. Helen pulled back and took Liv's face in her hands. The med-tech stood petrified gaping in surprise and wonder, and Helen elaborated: "I'm sorry too. I should have just... spared us both a lot of heartbreak." She brushed her thumbs over her cheeks affectionately, catching her tears.

"So you'll take me back, you'll-" Liv stuttered insecurely and Helen smiled, just as self-consciously:

"If you'll have me."

"Shall we carry this on in the TARDIS?" The Doctor interrupted before she could meet in another kiss. He ushered them along into the kitchen, then turned to look back: "Come along, Grace."

"I-" The surgeon didn't know what to say. She didn't feel like she had a place here, she didn't want to intrude but the Doctor was insistent:

"Come on. Someone else will have to clean up this mess... might call a removal company..." She looked around the place, wrinkling his nose.

"OI!" Liv exclaimed and he grinned:

"There's that snarky med-tech I've been missing."

"We were just about to call you, actually..." Grace decided to explain as she caught up with them. They weren't going far. The TARDIS was standing in the middle of the kitchen and the Doctor opened the door for them.

"So timing couldn't have been any better," he observed joyfully as they stepped inside. "Tea! Where are my manners, would you like some? Helen, Liv? Would you mind?"

"Not at all," Helen smiled and grabbed Liv's hand to lead her away, further into the TARDIS as Grace remained with the Doctor.

"Don't get lost on the way! Straight to the kitchen! Time for everything else later!" He called after them, then devoted his attention to Grace who was looking around the console room. It had changed since she had last seen it twenty-odd years ago but some things remained the same. She couldn't believe she still recognised them after all that time... it was even bigger than she remembered... "It's been a while," the Doctor observed as if he had read her thoughts.

"Yes... yes, I suppose it has," she answered softly, still taking in the wonders of it all.

"How have you been?" He asked and her attention snapped back to him.

"Good, I- yeah, I've been good," she answered at last, shaking her head free of the distractions. "Married. Working. I've been involved in some fascinating research of- But you don't need to hear that. Of course. That's all in the past for you." She realised how utterly small and insignificant it had to appear to him. It gave her pause.

"But I do! I do! I want to hear all about your life, your accomplishments, your adventures," he encouraged her enthusiastically and she wanted to believe him.

"Hardly adventures. Not like yours," she answered, trying her best not to sound jealous.

"Why not? Every day is an adventure, you step in front of your door and never know where the path will lead you," he beamed.

"Just like you step out of your blue box and you never know where you end up?" She asked and he nodded.

"I suppose so, yes." And then he added more seriously: "Not every adventure is about saving the universe."

"I regret it," Grace gave a soft smile.

"What?" He frowned in response and she explained:

"That I didn't come with you. Not all the time. Not when I think about what I have and what I have accomplished, I'm happy but- there is always that little nagging voice of 'what if'..." her voice trailed off and the Doctor took advantage to fill the space with words of his own:

"I'm proud of you. For what you have done. What you have accomplished. And I'm ever so glad to know you," he took a step closer to her. "Maybe we missed a trick, you and me, but also, maybe, it was always meant to be this way."

"You seem to have so many wonderful friends," Grace thought back to the group she had met only hours ago and she wasn't sure whether to be jealous that she never got as much time with him as they had, or to be glad to be counted among them.

"I have. And you're one of them," the Doctor spoke to the latter but she couldn't quite accept or believe it.

"Hardly compares, one night of adventure versus years of shared experiences, shared..."

"That doesn't make it any less significant," the Doctor interrupted. "Besides, the journey is never over." At that, Liv and Helen returned. Helen was carrying a tray of cups and Liv a pot of tea and a tray of biscuits.

"How do you take your tea, Grace? Do Americans drink tea?" Helen asked kindly as she set the china down on a small table in between some armchairs.

"Where would you like to go?" The Doctor posed an altogether more intriguing question.

"What?" Grace had been good and ready to answer Helen but the Doctor's words interrupted her train of thought.

"If you could go anywhere in time and space. I have nothing else on," he shrugged and looked to his other friends. "I have put right a great wrong, everything else for today is just... fun."

"You're not serious," Grace couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I imagine Liv and Helen will want some time to themselves so how about it? You pick a destination and we have a little adventure," he beamed and gave a dismissive wave to his companions. "They can get up to whatever they want to get up to in private-"

"Doctor!" Liv scowled and Helen blushed but the Time Lord didn't pay attention to either.

"-and we explore."

"Anywhere? In space and time?" Grace asked, her voice more shaky than she would have liked and the Doctor nodded enthusiastically.

"And I can have you back here in an instant. Maybe not here... wouldn't want to put you through that again. But I can take you home after," he offered.

"Go on, Grace. You deserve this. Don't waste more time on indecision. No more missed opportunities," Liv smiled at her as she grabbed Helen's hand. The blonde smiled in agreement:

"No more missed chances."

Grace couldn't help but smile too. Liv's demeanour was completely changed. Where she had been muted, pensive and surly before, joy now shone from every aspect of her being. It was lovely to see and the same joy and hope radiated off her lovely companion too. It seemed as though the time in between had been washed away without a trace.

"We can't turn back the clock but we can carry on where we left off. All of us," the Doctor observed and Liv nodded:

"I'd like that."

"Me too," Helen agreed and they all turned their attention to Grace, awaiting her decision.

"Just one trip!" She exclaimed at last. "I have to- and nothing too dangerous, I have patients relying on me and my husband-" A world of possibilities opened up in front of her and while she didn't want to spend her life in the stars as some did, she at least wanted to see what was out there.

"You will be back before you know it," the Doctor promised kindly. "So what do you say? Come with me? With us?"

"Yes. This time, I'll say yes," Grace grinned.

#Doctor who #fanfiction #grace holloway #eighth doctor #liv chenka #helen sinclair #liv x helen #stranded fix it #big finish #doctor who tv movie #companion support group #request fic

30 notes · View notes

braisedhoney · 9 months

Note

Heya Captain, I have a question 🙋

How would you deal with annoying people? (it's a strong word, but don't know how else to describe it)

Like fans who are just too much sometimes.

Would you ignore them, just tolerate them or deal with them somehow differently?

As a crewmate on this ship it’s important for me to do everything in my power not to be an annoyance o7 /j

But like I’m just curious on how creators deal with people they find annoying or fans who are just a bit TOO exited I guess. Like how other people deal with this kind of people without being rude or mean. Sometimes you just want the person to get off your back, but have no idea how to deal with it, you know?

If you don't feel comfortable answering this question I totally get it, you can just ignore this ask then

Thank you and have a honey day🐝

y'know, that's honestly a fair question to ask. it is kind of difficult to answer, but i know what you mean. i'll give it a shot.

it's not that i'm really popular enough to have a huge group of "fans" (seems like too big a word!) but sometimes there have been people who just take it out of me a bit. i'm not a high energy person even if i do try, so i can't always match the enthusiasm—limited spoons and all that ;;

when i'm tired, low energy, or just generally not feeling the vibe, i just… trail off a little. not on purpose, i just do. my activity is already really sporadic, so sometimes i'll post art but not respond to things bc i post and go. it's just how it be.

my only real piece of advice is this: do not spam. if someone is going to answer, they'll answer, but spamming them won't help. they might have other stuff going on or generally don't feel up to it—as a creator, you do still have the right not to mesh with people. spam won't make them want to talk to you more lol. being polite goes a long way! (this ask qualifies as polite, btw. very kind of you to worry <3)

just try to respect boundaries, and remember not everyone is immediately going to become your friend, creator or otherwise. life's funky and we all get through it our own way, but we'll be okay o7

(also aw, have a sweet day too, anon 🍯 hope you're alright.)

#ney's chatter (ask answers)#i really am not that high energy tbh #i just get swept up in the moment sometimes #also it's genuinely really sweet that you worry about this kind of thing anon #but since you're asking you're probably doing just fine o7 just treat people like people #and most of the time things turn out okay.#i actually share this feeling sometimes. like i'm bothering the people i want to talk to #i don't know what the solution for it is—but i think we all feel that way at some level #i think people really are more forgiving than you'd think though. especially about stuff like this #'annoying' someone like one time probably isn't going to make them hate you forever #(which... yes i do have to reassure myself about sometimes)

18 notes · View notes

hyunjinspark · 2 months

Note

SCREAMING ANON IS HERE 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ (this time with a full review)

bestie - when I tell you that this has to be my favorite chapter thus far, I wholeheartedly mean it

the angst!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the fluff!!!!!!! THE SEXUAL TENSION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the fact that Hyunjin was SO vulnerable with yn!!!!!!!!!!!!!! all of it: it was beautiful & it was perfect & it was so needed

Hyun practically begging her not to leave? the ~please don’t go~ moment??? oh my gosh my HEART - it was as if the walls he built to separate himself for her were starting to crumble

& don’t get me started on when he called her baby!!!!! I screamed, I cried, I was like OH MY GOD WE ARE SO BACKKKKKK BESTIESSSSSS!!!!!!!

the end of the chapter felt like the chapter before Hyun left & I was LIVING for it ♡

but also!!! the conclusion about the photobooth pictures!!!!!!!!!!!!! it was so satisfying, so thank you for answering that question - & the fact that his copy was so worn from him consistently looking at it in his wallet??? I cried fr

okay & not to mention yn INTENTIONALLY spilling wine on herself because she knew that Hyunjin would follow her - I made the most awful noise when I read that part hehehehe (it was giving Maroon & I was like THE BURGUNDY ON MY T-SHIRT WHEN YOU SPLASHED YOUR WINE INTO MEEEEEEEEEEE) (& the whole bathroom scene??? pls tell me it continues to the guest bedroom aka Hyunjin’s room??) but also how cute Han & Changbin were at the party? I love that his friends adore yn so much & that she’s not met with resistance from anyone like Hyunjin was with Felix (different situation, I know - but still)

OH & the fact that Hyunjin just up & left his schedule to come check on her? the fact that he’s legitimately willing to risk everything now for her??? this is a soulmate au fr fr

ending thoughts (I know this is a lot & I apologize)

1. pls tell me that yn will get her paintings back somehow - even if Hyunjin has to obtain them himself

2. will we find out if Hyunjin remembers her from the art store like yn did for years & years? my bestie & I were discussing it (PS: you are more than welcome to join our book club for your own story lol) & concluded that he HAS to remember her from then, right???

3. Christmas with Hyunjin & yn would be SO cute & I feel like we all want to read this so bad lmfao

4. Jeonghan is like my comfort character at this point - I LOVEEEE him, I adore him, I want more of him lol (it makes me love Jeonghan even more irl I’m not gonna lie lol)

bestie, you truly wrote the best chapter & I cannot thank you enough for that (I mean, every chapter is the best but this one was super special)

thank you for all of your hard work, for creating a story that we all love & adore & think about on a consistent basis - I know for a fact this story has changed my life & has provided comfort & solace to me since I found it around this time last year

(& I know I’m missing a lot of things I’m wanting to touch on for my review, but for now, this will do hehehehe)

again, thank you so much bestie - I’m sosososo ready for the next chapter (but also not because I know we have like 6-ish chapters left & I want it to last for as long as possible lol take your time bestie!!! drag this out!!)

I hope you’re having the most amazing week!! ily!!

🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

the fact that it’s your favorite chapter makes me very happy ! him asking her to stay is my 💔❤️‍🩹 and daejon gang will be back sooner than you think. a christmas scene…you may just get it, and about the art store as well…haha.

im glad you like jeonghan so much haha, i don’t know much about him (irl) but he is fun to write 🥹

you’re way too kind 😭 im happy my story provides you that comfort, that’s why i share it. :D

#star lost with you

5 notes · View notes

papirouge · 1 year

Note

you know what gets me about radfems who say "you can't be anti-choice and feminist" is the way many of them talk about straight women, mothers, and pregnancy comes across as very sexist anyway... if you're straight you're stupid and deserve to get beaten by your male partner, if you're a mother you're contributing to the patriarchy, pregnancy is evil because it "ruins your body," any complications women have during pregnancy are because our bodies are just "not meant to be pregnant" and maternal injuries and deaths get blamed on pregnancy, not incompetent healthcare providers, etc.

this is not to mention the very rude comments about stay at home wives and pro-life/anti-abortion women... when Roe v Wade was overturned last year pretty much every pro-life blog got flooded with anons hoping the bloggers got raped or had a fatal pregnancy, as in "I hope you get what's coming to you," but wait--isn't this how men talk about women they don't like? and of course the routine drama on radblr about SAHMs is always kinda weird... not that conservatives have a healthy opinion of stay at home mothers, but laughing and celebrating when a SAHM gets abused is next level depravity imo. and in radblr it's fine that women get abused by their husbands because "she was asking for it," hmmm I thought only rape apologists talked like that. they separate women into "good women" and "bad women" and of course bad women need to shut their mouths. strange, isn't this how men act when faced with women who disagree with them lol

like, it's ok to be a raging misogynist as long as you support abortion :-) honestly no different from the men they complain about so much

hmmmm to be fair, you're talking about a pretty extreme brand of radfem. Those openly mocking abused women and throwing slurs are regularly called out by more "regular" radfem. But it's true those doing so come off as truly miserable and sad. It's interesting that a bunch of them dated men and did awful dating choices, yet feel entitled to lecture women in happy relationship how fake their life is bc men are unredeemable and will ultimately hurt them...

One thing I hate LOATHE about radfem and is pretty common with them is their entitlement to speak over ALL women.... while gatekeeping their community. For example their will insert themselves into tradfem discourse and clown them (with sassy comebacks whose only purpose is to humiliate them), but literally freak out if they find out you're pro life or Christian and follow them. I got blocked by a bunch of radfem blogs/pages for simply reblogging/liking stuff (never arguing just rebloging stuff I agreed with). But somehow these women see no issue to invade spaces they know aren't in their lane (tradfem, prolife, Christian) and talk to them in a patronizing way. The intellectual superiority complex is HUGE in most radfem.

But as a long time rad orbiters, I can tell you radfem definitely have blindspots and whenever you point them out to them they suddenly get less cocky...👀 I mean, go and tell any radfem how inconsistent they are in inquiring women to question ALL their choices......while invoking to NEVER question abortion 🙃 they'll clown "choice feminism" but radfem are the biggest choice feminists when it comes to abortion. "Her body her choice! Don't question it - don't you EVER remotely say women might be pressured in any way into abortion!!" The only times radfem will aknowledge forced abortion it's when the boyfriend is the cause, which is convenient bc it allows to 1) shit on men again 2) deflect from the SYSTEMIC aspect of abortion culture. Bc radfem whole narrative is that society is anti abortion.....when reality shows the opposite (companies are literally PAYING for women's abortion)

THAT BEING SAID, I've just seen a post saying that radfem were as bad as Tate stans and that's where I draw the line. Because as I said, radfem actually do police each other when some go overboard with misogyny (against tradfem, pro life women, etc.) or blind hate against the male sex (there was a discourse with deranged radfem calling to kill male babies, and they got cooked by other radfem for being crazy). There are several posts floating aroud radblr basically saying "no pro life woman deserve to get rape threat / no tradfem deserve to get rape threat / no conservative woman deserve to get rape threat"

That 'community control' doesn't really happen with Tate fans. None of them will make posts to call out toxic members going too far against the female sex or say that "no liberal woman deserves to get rape treat". Also, unlike Tate bros, no radfem is actually encouraging women to be violent with their boyfriend or pimp them out - which both are criminal activities... So it's insane to see ppl put out equivalence between both groups when we all know which one is radicalizing young ppl into considering the opposite sex only good to get beaten into submission and sex trafficked...

Ultimately, radfem want men to leave them alone and have nothing to do with them - Tate stans seek to manipulate and (sexually) exploit women. They aren't the same.

Radfem online toxicity hardly translate into reality - meanwhile there are already a bunch of self identified MRA walking Tate coattails who committed crimes against women.

There's definitely something true in the saying that women are held in a higher standard than men because comparing terminally online deranged fujoshi writing shit takes about men online to people actively defending an 🌠alleged🌠 sex trafficker beating women on tape because they think that's the only thing women are worth for is hysterical.

#I've yet to see one radfem getting off over teenage boys getting beaten #sorry but they're yet to be as bad and dangerous as Tate bros #answered #Andrew Tate #radfem

17 notes · View notes

roukabi · 1 year

Note

if you're still into hadestown id love to hear more details of act II in your broadway x nytw au :)

OHHH ANON DEAREST....... YOU’VE ACTIVATED MY INFODUMP CARD!

ok ok first of all i am so sorry for my incessant videnoirposting, rest assured i am still very very into hadestown and I Will become normal again! and i have a backlog of ht-related art to finish lol.

Second.... BOY OH BOY DO I LOVE TALKING ABOUT MY NYTW x BWAY AU!

(for the uninitiated: for the longest time i've had this nytw x broadway au, called the “Old Song” au, in which nytw orpheus becomes a very sad ghost and haunts the present (broadway) orpheus. Meanwhile, nytw Eurydice and bway Eurydice find each other in Hadestown and try to help each other 'survive'. I’d recommend reading the first part, otherwise the rest of this post won’t make much sense. I'll drop the link in a rb.)

(And I'm putting this under a readmore, because this is gonna get long.)

Now there are a few things I forgot to mention in that post, one of them being what this whole AU is actually about. Greek tragedy says that, despite what we (the audience) desire and what we understand, the characters will still fail. And that's alright. Life goes on, sometimes for the better. It's awful, but it's not the end.

In this AU, we're past having the characters try and fail. And y’know, it wasn't the end for them, either! Their failures mattered then, and they will now! Orpheus and Eurydice's futures will still go on whether they want them to or not!

But... because they are worlds apart, with (seemingly) no other way of reuniting and having the happy ending they desired... does that leave any hope for either of them?

This leads me to another theme of Hadestown, and the one I'm focusing on in this AU: despite everything, there will always be hope. It might take a while to see it, but it's always gonna be there. And how this AU is gonna work out is that we'll see this hope manifest in some characters (bway Orpheus, nytw Eurydice), how the lack of hope manifests in others (nytw Orpheus, bway Eurydice), and how all of that is subject to change as the characters grow. Somehow, though, they'll all have to cling onto that hope - that struggling dream of a better future - if they want to finally build a better life.

enough cringe talk about themes let's get some found family in this house

Soo.... Act II! I'm gonna start a bit ahead, where the first post left off: the Orphei are traversing the underground, and nytw Eurydice is giving bway Eurydice refuge.

Anyway, where we last left off, the Orphei have made it to the underworld! bway Orpheus kind of broke the Wall, which nytw Orph (nicknamed Ghost in this AU to make things easier, and to let nytw Orph distance himself from his past life) takes as good sign. If he can get past the wall like that by singin' a little tune, then the rest of the journey will be a cinch!

...It was not, in fact, a cinch.

Everything in Hadestown is Really loud, Really bright, and Really unfriendly to trespassers. Bway Orpheus gets overwhelmed very quickly and nytw Orph gets frustrated - he knows this place already, and also knows that strolling in during daytime hours is a one-way ticket to death (see Hermes's advice in Wait for Me).

They end up hiding in some abandoned worker cabin for the rest of the day, a rather unproductive start to their journey.

It's not helping matters that the Orphei had quite the argument back during Chant - nytw Orpheus got after bway Orpheus for not helping Eurydice, and it got to the point where he deliberately tried to break bway Orpheus's optimism so that he'd "wake up" and "finally try to be useful"... yes he was projecting, no it was not fun, yes it is still eating at him, and Yes, their relationship is... pretty strained right now. As if bway Orpheus's self-esteem wasn't already garbage.

This isn't the case for the Eurydices though! They're chilling in the house nytw Eurydice borrowed from Persephone + are escaping work quotas. The bad news is that they're content with sharing a name, which is kind of frustrating to try and write. Oh well!

Anyway, bway Eurydice finds it nice to have someone who actually understands her. Not that Orpheus wasn't understanding, he really, really, was, but he just didn't see the world the way she did. And nytw Eurydice can talk to someone who hasn't lost their head to the mines + machines! So yeah they hit it off real fast.

Eventually, though, bway Eurydice asks how the other managed to get stuck in Hadestown for so long. Nytw Eurydice stiffens. Frowns a bit. She stares at the floor for a beat or two before telling her that she doesn't know. Forgot.

She does know. She knows that it could probably happen to bway Eurydice, too, given all their similarities. But she's not going to be the one to break this new girl's spirit.

It's a vow that nytw Eurydice makes around the same time nytw Orpheus does, too. bway Orpheus isn't sleeping, and whether it's the noise outside the cabin walls, or the sneering voices in his head, nytw Orph doesn't really want to know.

That poor kid. He'd been nothing but kind to nytw Orpheus, trying to make his (after)life more bearable, a little more colorful - and nytw Orpheus had the gall to tear him down. He wouldn't have dared to hurt him if he were his old self.

It's just that bway Orpheus doesn't know how the world really is. Hadestown was cruel, and its brainwashed people wouldn't stop at hunting him down. Hades wouldn't let Eurydice go - not without an impossible price to pay. Nytw Orpheus didn't want to crush his successor's hopes by telling him all that.

And yet, he kind of... did.

Damn it.

He’s got to be better toward that boy. For both their sakes.

The nytw duo realizes that, despite what happened to them before, they can’t let it interfere with the future of the bway duo. There’s still a chance for things to turn out, and after all, they aren’t the ones with something to lose.

However, not everyone in this story has this mindset. There’s still one more thing I really forgot to mention in the last post...

Because of her appearance in both NYTW and Broadway Hadestown, Jessie Shelton’s fate, Clotho, is here to add even more conflict! What about her sisters? uhhhhhhhh don’t worry about it lol they’re fine. She’s with the bway Lachesis and Atropos, but this is likely to change.

Clotho’s not pleased with the trajectory of this story. It was her job to keep it from changing, and now her #1 enemies are coming around to throw wrenches in her plans? Well. If she’s going to clean up the messes they’re making, she might as well have fun with it.

Clotho ends up terrorizing all four heroes, but really the bway duo, and mostly bway Orpheus because in the end, it's his actions that will determine the outcome of the story. The nytw duo is Very Much Not Happy with Clotho’s existence and they get very protective of their counterparts whenever she shows up.

bway Orph tries really hard to guard nytw Orph from her, knowing their history and all. It doesn’t really work, but he tries!

(Clotho does, at one point, threaten to kill bway Orph if the Orphei continue their journey. Remember this.)

The Eurydices learn more about each other the more questions bway Eurydice asks - Do you think your Orpheus is looking for you? Is he down here? Will everyone forget about me, too? Different words, all asking the same thing: Is there a chance for me to get out of here?

bway Eurydice tries not to show it, but she’s scared. She has no idea what she’s gotten herself into, and she’s desperate for a ray of hope.

Nytw Eurydice tries her best to reassure her, but sometimes she just can’t answer.

bway Eurydice does ask if the other workers could break free of Hadestown’s brainwashing. Nytw Eurydice thinks it’s possible.

Meanwhile, the Orphei have taken to sleeping during the day and moving at night - to keep from getting caught. bway Orpheus isn’t handling this well, nor is he handling the constant overstimulation, the paranoia of being an ‘outlaw’, all the pain and horrors inflicted on Hadestown’s people, Clotho being Clotho, etc., and one night he just... breaks down. He never thought the world could be this cruel.

Luckily for him, though, a certain someone who understands exactly what he’s going through sits down with him. Lets him vent. Gives him a hug.

Nytw Orpheus finally apologizes to the boy for his distance, and convinces him that not everything is awful; they have each other, and the very reason Nytw Orpheus is down with him is that he cares about bway Orph and wants to protect him.

It’s here that bway Orpheus starts to smile again.

From that night on, things are a little better. Sure, all the terrible things mentioned 4 bullet points ago still exist, but now the Orphei are joking between one another, collaborating on songs, and climbing the petrified trees scattering Hadestown’s landscape.

And for the Eurydices, life-after-death is getting... almost bearable?! Nytw Eurydice made the other a notebook of all her surface memories, just in case, and it’s not like either of them stopped singing. They’ll go out and check if one of their Orphei is out there. Sometimes they’ll just talk for hours about whatever the Memory of the Day is.

For the first time in decades, there's a sound so sweet and clear against the echoes of steel on stone: laughter is heard in the realm of Hades.

A month or two pass, and neither party has found the other. It’s around this time when the bway duo wonders about their companion’s past.

It’s a topic that sickens the nytw duo, but they figure it’s time to talk about what happened. Time to show where all these mental - and in some cases, physical - scars came from.

After nytw Orpheus turned, Eurydice was almost immediately offered sanctuary by Persephone, who took pity on her. Eurydice took it, as long as she didn’t have to see Hades ever again.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t upset with Orpheus. She was actually pretty bitter about him for months, before she came to terms with how powerless they both were in that situation.

However, time wore on, and the mini-revolution Eurydice + Orpheus created fell further into obscurity. Less workers remembered what happened that fateful night. And then, to Eurydice’s dread, not even the gods knew who she was anymore. Afraid of losing herself, Eurydice hid by herself most of the time, alone with her memories in the old goddess’s house. At least without Hades knowing her, she couldn’t be tracked.

For Orpheus... well, he definitely didn’t receive a hero’s welcome upon returning to the surface. Wholly blamed for the loss of his wife, Orpheus, too, hid himself from the public. His relationship with Hermes soured as he pressured the poet to move on. It wasn’t just a shift in the people, either - in the rare times when Orpheus played music, his songs were so sorrowful that nature herself turned gray, and wept. Believing the change in Orpheus to be a curse, the townspeople banished him. Not that Orpheus had any time to grieve - he had brought upon himself the fury of the Maenads, whose courtship he refused. They slaughtered him by the river and threw his bones into the current. (Hermes found them, but never told Eurydice.) Orpheus woke up as a ghost, stuck on the surface with his guitar. No longer could he be seen, heard, or touched by mortals. Not that they’d want to find him, anyway, Orpheus thinks.

All four members of this Songbird Quartet are in tears by the time the tales are told.

It’s also worth mentioning that both nytw Orpheus and Eurydice conveniently left out the part where Orpheus turns.

It’s also also worth mentioning that nytw Orpheus takes off his red jacket for the first time since death, letting bway Orph see the extent of the Maenad’s brutality.

The strangest thing happened to the nytw duo, though: things started getting much better for them once the bway duo came into their lives. Orpheus is finding his hope again and Eurydice has found meaning in her afterlife. Through the tragedy, something good did happen.

(... uh, little side note: I really hope y’all are catching on that the relationships between Orphei and Eurydices... are platonic in a brother/sister sense. I mean, I can’t stop you from shipping them, i guess, but romance isn’t what I’m aiming for... that’s all.)

A n y w a y , what ho! After months of searching, bway Orpheus gets the biggest smile on his face upon seeing his beloved Eurydice creeping through metal stacks surrounding Hades’s mansion (it’s work hours). The Orphei agree to split up for a bit: bway Orpheus reunites with Eurydice, while nytw Orph makes a quick last look for his own lover.

He travels a little far, and then farther, getting increasingly desperate. Where is she? Was he never meant to find her? Is she on the other side of Hadestown? Where is she now?

Panic and heartache spark in his chest and he starts to call her name into the expanse.

“...Orpheus?”

The voice is from behind. Orpheus won’t dare turn around. Not again.

She knows this. She knows his posture, too, and the shape of his hands - which are shaking. She comes up to his side and takes one before facing him. Tears are already spilling over his cheeks.

“It’s you.”

Tears threaten to spill on Eurydice’s cheeks, too.

“It’s me.”

yayyyy they’re together again! it’s really sappy and they keep apologizing to each other for everything. It’s a little sad when Eurydice puts a hand on Orpheus’s scarred face but that’s neither here nor there.

But woe! the happy reunion is cut short when a loud, booming voice shakes the songbirds’ cores:

“Young man!”

Eeeheeeheheeehee

the nytw duo, realizing that their sibling is now in Huge Danger, rush to Hades’s mansion. There stand a stricken bway Orpheus, a dreading bway Eurydice, Persephone, Hades, Hermes, workers... and the Fates.

There’s a moment of “woah everyone’s here” as the Songbird Quartet recognizes one another.

Hades and Persephone don’t recognize nytw Orph, which is great for some reasons and terrible for others.

Hades tells bway Orph that Eurydice can’t go back - she signed the deal, and sold her soul. Orpheus, horrified, looks at her, and Hades... and nytw Orph, who was too afraid to tell him.

Nytw Eurydice, on the other hand, stares down Clotho with a ‘what the fuck do you want’ look. Clotho just smiles.

Hey, so, remember when I told you that Clotho threatened to kill bway Orpheus if they kept looking for Eurydice? Well.........

Hades calls upon the workers to drive bway Orpheus out. Unfortunately, though, Clotho has also given them the order to kill. Her word isn’t questioned: If Fate wishes it, then it shall be so, after all.

Clotho + her sisters nab bway Eurydice. Two workers restrain nytw Orpheus, who, while not knowing what exactly will happen to bway Orph, can deduct from Clotho’s threat that it won’t be good, and begs Hades to spare the boy. Nytw Eurydice, still wearing worker clothes and remaining undetected, sneaks out of the fuss and creeps behind the mansion (if we are thinking of the stage setup, where everyone is kind of in a circle, the nytw duo are on the opposite side from where the Fates + bway Eurydice are).

Workers circle bway Orpheus, and he gives nytw Orpheus one last terrified look before the first strike lands.

Now, we all know nytw Orpheus as a guy who’d have no problem throwing hands during Papers. Except this Orpheus has been ruined by his past, and freezes up when he sees the mob attack bway Orpheus. There are screams in his ears that aren’t there, the smell of metal, blood and wine, and a thousand terrible scenes in his head. It’s too much for him to watch.

...But the very reason nytw Orpheus is down here is because he cares about his newfound brother and wants to protect him. It was the one thing he promised to do.

So god damn, what was he doing?

Something snaps in him and he tries once again to wrestle his arms away from the workers holding him back. They don’t budge - nytw Orpheus’s strength is his words, not his muscles.

But then a low thud sounds against nytw Orpheus’s ears, and the hold goes loose.

“Go!” cries nytw Eurydice, wielding a shovel and slamming its head against the other worker’s. “I’ll get Eurydice!”

nytw Orpheus gives a quick nod of thanks to his lover before rushing up to bway Orpheus, grabbing a pickaxe on the way.

Bway Orpheus has tried to flee the pack, but they keep catching him and throwing him down. He’s exhausted, he’s injured, and they aren’t letting up. One of the workers - the largest one in the mob - raises a pick. Orpheus can’t get himself off the ground.

Then there’s a flash of red, a scream, a metallic smell.

bway Orpheus dares to open his eyes and sees that the mob has stopped, paralyzed with shock. The worker who held the pick now clutched his arm instead, pressing against a long, gruesome tear in the skin.

And standing in front of him, a pickaxe in his hands and a wild, cold glare that’s stark against his bloodied face - is Orpheus’s brother.

A couple steps behind the mob are the Eurydices, and one of them still has her shovel. Nytw Orpheus shouts at the workers, telling them to back off (in a much ruder way). The workers, seeing the outcome of fighting these three, retreat.

Nytw Orpheus, chest heaving, drops the pickaxe and carefully steps over bway Orpheus so that he is behind the latter. He gently scoops the boy into his arms. He’s blacked out, but he’s still got a pulse, thank the gods.

Now, while nytw Eurydice did do what she said she would (free Eurydice), that doesn’t mean she got rid of the fates. And of course, Clotho appears.

Nytw Eurydice somehow keeps enough composure to not beat the shit out of her with a rusty shovel. She gives Clotho enough time for her to say that while, yes, the initial murder plan was foiled by our heroic rulebreakers, the damage has already been done. bway Orpheus has been told that his lover sold herself to Hades, and on top of that, the people who could’ve been his friends on the surface nearly killed him in Hadestown. It’s not like this was a sudden effect - Orpheus’s worldview started crumbling the minute he entered Hadestown. This was just the last step. Now with that sweet, sweet doubt in his head, things should go back to normal.

bway Eurydice is quite shaken by this - it’s her story, too. So nytw Eurydice swings her shovel a bit to get her to fuck off. Clotho does. (I like to think that the Fates can appear + disappear in a plume of dark smoke. Just a lil thing that’d look cool in animation.)

The three of them kinda. stare at each other for a bit.

They take bway Orph to nytw Eurydice’s house to patch him up and rest. Nytw Orpheus washes the blood from his face, and there’s a distant look in his eyes as he recovers from what he did. bway Eurydice, who’s a smidge intimidated by him, says she thought he was pretty cool back there. It gets nytw Orpheus to laugh just the slightest bit, and thus, a friendship is born.

Nytw Eurydice and Orpheus take some time to catch each other up on what happened to them while bway Eurydice looks after her Orpheus.

He wakes up after some hours, a little worried, but with Eurydice there he settles down. She jogs his memory of what happened.

He starts venting to her, apologizing profusely for putting everyone in this mess and placing all their hopes on a song he couldn’t finish. Nothing Eurydice says can comfort him.

Unfortunately, Clotho was right: bway Orpheus is shattered. He goes on about how he is at fault, not just for Eurydice’s imprisonment in Hadestown, but for forcing nytw Orpheus to re-live his trauma to save him, and putting nytw Eurydice back on Hades’s hitlist. He’s hopeless, he says. This whole journey is hopeless. And because he’s the one to blame, he’s better off leaving.

He tries to leave Hadestown, despite the other three trying to get him to stop, but there’s another force keeping him from going too far: the workers. They’ve been listening to his plight, and they feel their old humanity come back to them at his sorrowful song (If It’s True).

Orpheus looks at his family, then looks back at the workers. Perhaps he did do something good for these people. Perhaps there’s still a chance for them.

Hermes comes up to the quartet, bearing news (it’s kind of his thing): Hades has also heard what the workers are starting to whisper about - a possible revolt against Hadestown’s cold-hearted structure - and demands for the four of them to come to his mansion. It’s judgment time.

Nytw Orpheus, who is bitter toward Hermes, demands to know why he didn’t help bway Orpheus since he was a god. Hermes, unfazed, asks why he couldn’t prevent the mob from attacking bway Orpheus, if he’d already lived Orpheus’s life. This quiets nytw Orpheus’s anger.

At the mansion, Hades tries to intimidate bway Orpheus before he actually passes judgment, though a very aggressive nytw Orpheus protects the other. Not today, Hades!

Persephone gives the Eurydices a bit of advice - maybe a mix of the London and NYTW Seph verses for Chant II - as she, too, heard the poet’s song.

The Fates are also there, watching. Plotting, probably.

Finally, Hades gives bway Orpheus his task: Sing a pretty song, and perhaps Hades will make use of him and spare his family. If he fails, it’s to the Great Beyond for all of them.

bway Orph is shaking like an autumn leaf. He’s not done with his song. It never worked the way he wanted it to. He’d tried to get nytw Orpheus to help him with it, but he’d refused, saying that if the song were really special, it would’ve come straight from bway Orpheus’s heart.

From the heart. Okay. That’s what Orpheus will do.

And to make a long story short, it works. beautifully. Orpheus sings his song of love and it swells as everyone else joins in. It’s like the heart of Hadestown is glowing.

At the end, Hades remembers his love for Persephone. He remembers his humanity. The old gods dance as if they were young lovers again.

And Orpheus just about blacks out again from cathartic relief. (Side note: I like to think that nytw Orph says something along the lines of “Easy there, rockstar!” I know the term won’t come around until the 60s but I think it’s really cute :))

Well, things seem to be going alright now! Hades isn’t as Bent on Harming the Four, Persephone’s smiling again, the workers are getting hopeful, and our four songbirds are together now.

... Except, a look of unease haunts the nytw duo’s faces. They know what comes next after this. So does Clotho. The song wasn’t the real test, as we all know.

bway Orph asks if they can go, Hades says no, blah blah blah we've been here before.

Hermes tells the four (well, mainly the bway duo) of the task ahead. They are, of course, dumbfounded and frightened by what it entails. They look back at their older siblings, wordlessly asking, “did you know?”

Nytw Orpheus and Eurydice look away.

The bway duo demands them to tell the full truth of how they were separated. So they do. They tell their doomed successors that nytw Orpheus failed to bring them both out, and that the chances of it happening again are high. It’s completely up to the new duo, and the nytw duo didn’t want to talk of it out of fear of crushing their hopes.

The bway duo is... not pleased. They’re not just crushed, they’re betrayed. How could the nytw duo lie to them for so long, lead them down this path just to pull the rug out from under them?

Nytw Orpheus reaches out to bway Orpheus, but the latter backs away, and leaves them. Bway Eurydice just shakes her head. She leaves them, too.

That night, when the four are preparing for the journey out, bway Eurydice finds her lover cupping his carnation in his palms. They talk quietly about the trek ahead, and Eurydice tells Orpheus that, even though their predecessors failed, that doesn’t mean they will, too. For what it’s worth, said predecessors didn’t have dead companions to travel with. And if the nytw duo were able to change (for the better) because of the bway duo’s actions, then maybe their ending could, too. “If they could do it, so can we.”

Orpheus smiles, but his doubts still gnaw at him. What if their actions changed the outcome for the worse? He just wanted everyone to be safe and happy, but what if this night’s events shouldn’t have happened the way they did? Especially with Clotho’s plan unraveling faster than ever, did they really make all the right decisions? Could he put faith in himself, or was everything that the townspeople said up top, about the harshness of the world and all, really true?

Speaking of Clotho, she appears once more to nytw Eurydice. Eurydice snaps at her for putting everyone on the road to ruin, but Clotho merely states that she’s not the only one trying to get what she wants. Like it or not, everyone had a part to play. “This story of ours was your doing, too,” she says. “Now you finish it. I’m just helping it move along.”

As Clotho departs, Eurydice finds that statement... oddly comforting. If bway Orpheus just holds onto the hope he’d always had with him, then maybe... just maybe...

It’s a long night, and it’s a little odd with two somewhat estranged couples sharing a house. Eventually, they all decide to try and make amends in the tiny living room. Apologizing, conversing softly about their fears and hopes, curling up together on the surprisingly large worn couch. bway Orpheus lets his brother hug him.

“I’m scared.”

“I know,” nytw Orpheus whispers. “And I have so much faith in you nonetheless.”

They sleep together on the couch that night. Lovers, brothers, and sisters say “I love you”. Hell, friends do, too, why not. There’s an air of peace in the stony caverns of Hadestown, and it’s enough to bring the four to a restful sleep.

They’ll need it for the journey ahead.

And, then, that morning, they set out, and...

OHHH, GEE! Look at how long this got! Gee whizz, look at the time, too! I think it’s time to stop. We’ll leave the thrilling conclusion for another time!

Thanks a billion for the ask, anon, and thanks a lot to you, reader, if you actually got this far! I don’t write much, but when I do, I get really into it...

There’s some stuff in Act I of this AU I still haven’t talked about - mostly silly fluff between the brothers, fluff between the sisters, some angst between the brothers, orphydice fluff, and nytw Orph’s strained relationship with the new Hermes, but again, that’s for another time.

#OOOOAGHGH maybe notn didn't give me carpal tunnel but writing this sure did!#this was so much fun tho. i got so excited when i read the ask bc that's a Thing I'm Really Passionate About!#I've been refining it for years! no i don't like letting old ideas go lol #hadestown #hadestown au #hadestown broadway #hadestown nytw #orpheus #eurydice #orpheus hadestown #eurydice hadestown #nytw x broadway crossover #old song au #rook roars!#long post #rook's mailbox #also sorry if i misinterpreted all the characters. i promise bway orph is still sweet n loveable it's just that (class) war is hell #caps tw

18 notes · View notes