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sunboki · 4 months

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⎯ CHRISTMAS BLUES a Hwang Hyunjin fiction

🎄 : Hwang Hyunjin x implied! fem. reader

TROPE. enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, reader is a writer, one bed au, forced proximity au, hyunjin is an artist(not mentioned a ton), coincidences

WORD COUNT. 7.3k words ☆ 40 minute read

WARNINGS. cursing, angst galore, mention of sex (non desc.), breakup, hurt feelings, making up, mentions of getting drunk

AUG'S NOTES. this is a stupidly lovestruck hallmark christmas mindset talking, whatever you read below is definitely not me… definitely. anyway, happy holidays to everyone that celebrates! this has been sitting in my drafts for months now, initially planned to be a smau, then a fic!! hope this fic exceeds your expectations, feel free to leave a reblog or comment of your thoughts!

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. You thought getting a call from Hyunjin was the last thing you needed during the holidays, but when he reminds you of your non-refundable tickets to Paris you had booked seven months prior to your earth-shattering breakup, you realize that his call was the least of your problems.

or alternatively :

Just a week over Christmas with your ex in Paris, what could go wrong?

Every circumstance has a question that goes along with it.

How did I get so lucky? Why did you leave?

As for yours, it’s fairly simple.

Where did we go wrong?

December 18th – Seoul, South Korea.

Holding onto what could’ve been is stupid, you agreed upon that mindset a long time ago. However, the past, Him being the past, lingered around you like the scent of citrus still clinging beneath your fingernails even after washing your hands. Everywhere. He was everywhere. And no matter how hard you tried to erase the memories of what was, they served their memory purpose and disfigured your mind all the same.

And so, you replaced it.

Replaced the hurt, the searing burn, with someone else. Who turned into someone else, and someone else after that till the only thing sufficing any weekly relationship was a no-strings attached notion.

Until you met Seungmin.

He was your vice, the person dragging you out of your self-made hole of false sanctuary and safety. He laid all his flaws on the table, showed himself to you. Seungmin was gentle and kind, he was patient— more patient than anyone else in this world— and loving. Oh so loving.

But behind your undying affection for your boyfriend, he saw something you didn’t. Perhaps in your eyes, perhaps in your soul, bared to him on an onslaught of occasions.

Longing.

He saw longing in your treasured hues, longing for someone that wasn’t him.

Because some scars take longer to fade away, but yours hadn’t even begun to heal. Masked with his many layers of band-aids only to never staunch the cut, the one Hwang Hyunjin left on you.

“Seungmin I’m so sorry—“

“You love him, I know,” He nods his head, a sad, soft smile holding place on his lips.

Tonight was the night he officially talked about it. The unforgivable thought continuing to incessantly plague his mind.

Although, he didn’t regard you sourly for it. That connection you had with Hyunjin was something no other person could return nor deliver, and he had to accept that if he really loved you.

If Seungmin really loved you, he wanted the best for you, even if that meant the best were when you weren’t with him.

You were shocked when he brought up the matter, asked if you really missed him, asked if you still loved him. Yes, you had of course discussed your previous relationship, but never to this extent, never so blatantly.

Though the absolute kindness in both his tone and the way he looked at you, seated at the dinner table, kept you from lying.

It’s not fair. Not fair for Seungmin, your boyfriend, to have to take responsibility for your tormented feelings. But here he is, assuring you nevertheless.

Because he’s known. He knew from the start you weren’t over Hyunjin. Knew that, despite so much ache and anguish he caused, your heart can’t help but beat at his pace, fruitlessly connected.

And he knew in the end things would fall apart just like this, and his spot as a placeholder would fall apart along with it.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.

“He hurt you, but you love Hwang Hyunjin, I know.” He whispers, fingers tightly twined beneath the table. There’s a sort of hiccuping sound bubbling up from your throat. You stave it down.

“I’m sorry.”

He smiles, smiles when you don’t deny it, reaching forward for your trembling hands to take in his own.

“I want you to be happy, Y/N. I’m not the one you’ll be happy with though.”

A soft squeeze before he rises and curves to where you sit, free-flowing tears threatening to cascade past glossy eyes.

Without hesitation you wrap your arms around him in a hug, chest wracking with unfiltered sobs. Guilty. Guilt is devouring your soul. You don’t deserve Seungmin, nor does he deserve to be hurt so cruelly by someone he loves. But here you are, ruining him.

He’d never admit it, but the pain in his eyes—the ones you’ve stared at countless times—will always remain evident. No amount of smiling or laughing can hide that.

Pulling back while your arms stayed hooked upon his shoulders, you savor the kiss he places on your lips, the ones he delicately pressed to each of your wrists.

Sad. It’s a sad kiss. A kiss that causes your entire body to wilt against him, crashing deeper and deeper into his warmth, his comfort. He’s not false, he’s real. A real, unadulterated love you’re undeserving of.

Guilty.

“If you’re happy,” He breathes, leaning in to land gentle pecks all over your face, forehead connecting with your own. “I’ll be okay.”

December 20th – Seoul, South Korea.

Your room is still exactly as it has been. Pillows faced the same way, sheets still tousled and hanging halfway off the bed. Hell, he hasn’t even touched the blinds — staying open throughout countless nights, your perfume lingering.

Like he was afraid his touch would break apart what he had left of you.

He hopes, swallowing down the remainder of wine in his glass, you’ll be able to look back and laugh at what used to be, find the matter childish and ridiculous.

What you used to be.

Lovers.

Not kids anymore, you taught him once before. You also taught him how deep a love could be. There’d always be a space for you here, just as you left it. Although, he doubts you’d come back. In fact, you’ve probably moved on with your life. Found someone else to fill the space he did.

But maybe, if he keeps the room as it was for long enough, your room; if Hyunjin keeps those tiny paper notes you wrote for him long enough, you would come back.

What a lie.

Wishful thinking takes you far then drops you into festering despair over and over, he’s learned this the hard way.

Starting with a text.

He blinked once, then twice, then three times—picking apart his brain in order to recollect anything, any details whatsoever that could decipher this random message on a Monday morning.

Paris.

Paris?

Paris.

It hits him, evidently.

Immediately clutching his head and simultaneously slapping an aghast hand over his mouth, a sensation recognizable as utmost horror obliterates his soul into pieces, quite literally rocking his world.

Months ago, he remembered.

You’d been stupid, you’d been drunk, and impulsively booked the tickets, laughing off the “no refunds” reminder as if nothing would’ve ever happened.

It did though. And now he’s dealing with the karma in return for that idiotic decision. Soon enough you both will.

Non refundable tickets to Paris, two days from now, together.

What were the chances?

Blindly tapping his password into his phone, he (just as blindly) jams his finger to the first caller he sees, who turns out to be Minho, seeming like both a blessing and a curse in unison.

Never before had Hyunjin so clearly lost his mind and control of his words, but there’s always a first time for everything, right?

“Minho, what the hell am I supposed to do? She hates me and the flight is booked two days from now. This is just.. Fuck!” Hyunjin pours, slamming his hands against the steering wheel, burying his head into the leather as if that would magically make his endless desperation disappear.

He didn’t usually curse, so when he did, whatever had happened was serious. He carried his words elegantly, proficiently.

He'd be the last picked candidate for elegance right about now.

“If I were Chan I would’ve said you should still try talking to her about it, but in my opinion that wouldn’t change a thing. So suck it up Hwang, it can’t be that bad.”

Ah. Remind me why I ever decided to call you hoping for advice.

‘Hwang’ was the name his friend had reserved for him, coming from a long line of tissues in the mouth and other ways Minho would pick fun at the blonde. But he was at least trying to help, somewhat.

How he got himself into this situation is honestly laughable, situation being your nasty breakup and a plane to Paris.

Great. Paris is great, right? Wrong.

Because this stupid, stupid trip to Paris isn’t one he’s going on alone to enjoy the sights and delicacies there, it’s one with you, the girl who ripped his heart in half two months ago. The trip you’d planned while you were still head-over-heels, not hating his guts.

Oh, and your tickets were nonrefundable. Couldn’t forget about that part.

“.. What am I gonna do?”

“Suck it up, duh.”

“And please enlighten me on how the hell I'm supposed to ‘suck it up’ in a plane seat right next to her for thirteen hours and spend every day glued to the hip, your honor.”

The mental picture of Minho’s fraud-innocent face through the line grated his nerves like nothing else. Brows lifted, mouth slightly open. He wanted to punch that imaginary face so badly right now.

"Then follow Chan’s tutorial on making it up to your now-ex. You asked me for my opinion, and you got it. Look, all I’m saying is this is a good chance to get some level ground between you two, even if you still fly back hating each other—"

“I don’t hate her,” Hyunjin quickly quips.

Honestly, truthfully, he doesn’t hate you, he can’t hate you and he doubts he ever will. You were the one responsible for years upon years of the best moments of his life, how could he hate you for that?

Although, by the way you looked at him that night, he doubts your response would be the same.

Minho sighs.

"Even better, you could fly back with her hating you slightly less."

For once the snarky man he was spilling his problems to had provided decent reason, it was terrifying.

From a spectators point of view, his utter fit had to be quite a sight. For the record, witnessing thee calm and collected Hwang Hyunjin go insane in his car wasn’t a sight you’d see on a regular day.

But today wasn’t a regular day. Instead, it was the day he found himself trapped in a loophole of love and war with his ex.

What were the chances?

There’s no book that could wholly describe Hyunjin.

Even as a writer yourself, not even Shakespeare could depict him to the full extent. He’s flawless but so flawed, kind and yet malicious in terms of his brilliantly unfair beauty.

Every day you run into Hwang Hyunjin. The first few times, you called it coincidence, told yourself his meeting happened to be at the same time, maybe he was headed to a neighboring coffee shop.

Well, before those few days turned into every day on your commute.

And when a breakup is as nasty as yours was, it’s not too refreshing constantly seeing your ex on the daily afterward.

Today, Hwang Hyunjin is wearing a tan trench coat that reaches down to his knees. He’s wearing the same tennis shoes as always (except his usual camera is absent from the picture), and his hair is pulled up, soft, sandy strands framing either side of his face. He stands on the other side of the crosswalk, occupied with his phone while you internally ridicule him.

Staring daggers into his frame, the frigidly cold beverage in hand doesn’t aid in warming up chilling temperatures burning your fingertips, signs of winter’s impending approach.

He looks up.

You avert your gaze to your shoes. You can feel his eyes on you; feel them traveling over your body, then to your face, boring into your skull. He’s waiting, watching.

And somehow, you know you’ll eventually have to make eye contact. Because on your normal route, your turn left on Harrison street, then right on Fords. He’s there. Unbelievably, wildly, he’s there.

It’s the one factor in your (almost) perfect life without him that makes things hell.

Back then, you were like clockwork. Not a minute going by without someone being awake. You taking a nap after spending two hours searching synonyms on Thesaurus, Hyunjin just waking up, heading out with his signature Canon camera loosely hung around his neck.

Two perfect oppositions leaving their cluttered love scattered all over a cheap apartment.

For Hyunjin, it was the mug you’d gotten him last christmas labeled in bold font: “ART WHORE”, while yours was an equally degrading “SHE WOULD RATHER FUCK THE MEN IN HER BOOKS” sticker print slapped on the back of your laptop.

Little did you know you’d be desperately scraping the sticker off seven months later, that you’d leave your chapter unfinished since breaking up and that he had likely thrown away that mug.

Or maybe not. Maybe he painted over it, scribbled it out and somehow made it look good. Hyunjin has a way of making anything catastrophic look pretty.

You, on the other hand, are an erupting volcano. One that cries its lava onto the earth and doesn’t leave a pretty photograph. One that froths and rumbles, and destroys things as it goes.

Perfect opposites, exactly.

Now for the real question, the monumental “where did we go wrong” part that served as an explanation.

Three little words.

I love you.

You lied.

Those are big words, big words for somebody. Big words for yourself, words you spoke to Hwang Hyunjin, looped in his apartment, making love on the couch.

Big words he didn’t return.

Big words that kept your heart stilled in your chest, left your lips blue, drowned as you collected your discarded clothes off the floor.

And you left.

You didn’t need the awkward silence, the “let me think about it”, the bullshit they spouted Kissing-Booth-style. You needed him, his reassurance when you were your most vulnerable. His three words that told you your three years together weren’t one sided, not wordlessly confessed through actions though too scared to say aloud – a feared incantation.

Words he never said. Because you did love Hwang Hyunjin, so much it consumed you into his favorite muse, him your inspiration. Then came the doubt. The recollection of your favorite, dearest moments. Was it all a lie?

Those hour-long seconds, tangled on his sofa, kept that incessant anxiety alive.

You thought you found the one when your drunk night didn’t turn into an orgasm you can’t remember, but rather being coaxed into a warm shower despite your complaining about your pants being too tight.

Somehow, you can still feel his tender kisses like a ghost of a presence, littering the skin of your shoulder instead of the sloppy alcohol ridden ones you’d known before, and for once you had woken up beside the person responsible — not to a note saying they had to leave early.

He was the one responsible for teaching you how to paint, propping you in his lap, hand guiding your own while tracing careful strokes on the canvas. It was hardly possible sitting on his stool together, though neither of you noticed (nor cared), too busy savoring the intimacy of the moment.

That was Hyunjin. He was the glass of water placed in front of you after one too many at happy hour. He was the relaxing bath when everything hurt, the shoulder to cry on.

But you were mistaken. He wasn’t the one. Seungmin was the one, the one you had left behind only to chase after a toxic remedy.

In fact, Hyunjin never was the one.

And it fucking hurt remembering that.

December 21st - 22nd – Seoul, South Korea.

The last news you’d anticipated slammed into you like a bus.

Cozied up at your desk, a number pops up on your screen, interrupting the one moment of silence you managed to enjoy. Most people didn’t call during your work hours, except Seungmin, who, for the record, called before work.

The number you’d memorized by heart was not normal either.

Him.

“Before you curse at me,” He begins, and your hand hesitantly hovers over the call button, jaw clenched beyond reason, silence shouting loud. No strength in your bones allowed you to reply. Was it fear, hatred? Both most likely.

Taking the time to continue, his silky tone lulls along the line.

“Do you remember the tickets?”

Hatred seemed the dominant factor.

“What are you talking about?” You rhetorically snap, obviously annoyed albeit confused.

Tickets? It’s been three months, why the hell are tickets the first thing he’s mentioning?

He sighs. “The tickets to Paris. You remember, don't you?”

It takes you a moment, then, aha.

How could you forget? The tip of the iceberg of what two naive, lovestruck idiots thought would be forever. Little did they know everything would slip past their fingertips.

”Well um, did you know they’re non-refundable?”

Huh.

“WHAT?!”

You’d just managed to convince yourself free of Hyunjin, but he simply dragged you further into his labyrinth.

Or so you thought.

You had grown since he broke you (with the help of your better-ex, Seungmin). You evolved better (or so you told yourself). So out of the plentiful lessons you’d learned during your reflection, the factor that stuck with you most was that nobody is there to pick up for you. No matter how much you think they will.

You swore yourself into the belief Hyunjin would mend you, but you lived blind to the truth that he was just as broken as you were, a dog chasing its tail.

And so, you dealt with it.

In ways.

Whether that was incessantly talking to yourself, fanatically checking the date, contacting Felix on the verge of tears for him to laugh and then attempt at consoling your doom, or googling the best ways to run away from your predicament, fate had it out for you.

A disgustingly impertinent, unfairly fair fate.

Packing wasn’t all too stressful, unless you count trying on an entire entourage of outfits descending from dinner to snow-attire, then focusing on simple.

And it really shouldn’t have been so awful getting into your car, nonetheless waking up to realize today was the dreaded day, but it was, and you seriously deserved an award for the amount of times you checked your clock.

Although, you at least expected to have a little bit of time before having to face him again. Talking and interacting, not just drilling holes into his head. Little bit of time as in, a few years at least.

You were wrong.

Not the first time that’s happened.

“Hi Hyunjin.”

Answering his awaiting call with unsteady pitch, your eyes immediately gravitate to the blond-haired man. Taller in stature, leaning against a nearby pillar by your gate, staring directly at you.

Never had it felt so terrifying.

“Hey.”

You hesitate, never breaking eye contact with the man you’re speaking to a few meters away.

“Are we…Are we doing this again?”

He’s solemn. He’s not the same. Different.

“I don’t know. You decide for me.”

Never for a second does your gaze stray to his lips that barely move as he utters the line. Not the same either.

Before, you’d always been mesmerized by his lips. Then he’d notice and tease you prior to delivering the long-awaited kiss, again and again till you were breathless and your head became dizzy.

But this wasn't before; this is now, filled with grudges and sourness.

“You know I can’t make big decisions.”

That isn’t him. Isn’t the Hyunjin who would always provide endless tips and support, opinions unable to be held back without duct tape.

“Because you don’t want to get hurt knowing we chose this?” He whispers, and you tug your bottom lip between your teeth hard enough to bleed.

“Because I want better for us.”

“Y/n,” He sadly laughs, and your name rolling off his tongue sends an ache clawing your chest. It’s humorless, bitter in his throat.

“There is no us, only you and me, remember? So who do you want better for?”

There’s no twinkle in his eyes or his charming smile, it’s dry and painful, like he’d been crying.

You don’t want to think about that.

“Tell me something, okay?” Holding your phone to your ear with an iron grip, you slowly inhale through your nose, sparing a fleeting glance to the floor.

“Anything.”

“If I cry, will you hug me?”

“Do you want that?”

Question after question. He reaches in further, ripping out pieces of your soul with each inquiry. Stupid, sure. But genuine, all the way from the shrouded depths of your mind did you ask.

Of course you want that, want what’s so bad for you. No strength can make you admit it.

He knows the answer.

You hang up the call, fiddling around with your suitcase prior to wheeling the blundering thing over and ensuring you find a comfy spot out of Hyunjin’s sight.

Only five minutes of talking and you already feel as if your body is splintering into little pieces he’ll arrange into the perfect puzzle, ideal and pleasing.

He won’t. Not anymore he won’t.

And in that stead you’ll remain shattered.

What a shame.

Now boarding Group Five. All passengers in Group Five are welcome to board.

The hailing announcement earns a muffled groan through your mask, begrudgingly rising to your feet while directing your attention solely upon the bridge and your tightly held boarding pass. Luckily, Incheon International Airport isn’t half as hectic as you anticipated, but you have a gnawing feeling Paris will have a lot more to say.

Truth be told, you thank every lesson on task focus you once deemed useless as you shuffle among Paris-goers to find your seat.

One that obviously had to be right by Hwang Hyunjin.

“How’s you and Seungmin?” He fixes the length of his headphones, sparing a quick look at you while speaking. You despise how easy he treats this, how easy he’s treating everything at the moment.

Unfortunately, booking this hell-on-earth back when either of you were in your demented fantasy-land meant sitting beside each other also, in assigned seats.

Cupid really needs to give up by now.

You grunt beside him, uttering a hushed, “We broke up.”

Tilting his head, Hyunjin presses his face closer, craning. Close enough that you hold your phone up as a barrier, shrinking away nearer to the window.

“…Who broke up with who?”

Asshole.

Sighing boisterously, you shove in your own earbuds, rolling your eyes. Hyunjin, cocking a brow, dejectedly slouched back. Although he doesn’t ask any more questions, and you successfully get through your first three hours in silence.

Well, prior to the flight attendant strolling by with her cart, mandatorily beckoning orders from each row.

Wheeling her cart over where your seats are, Hyunjin takes a ginger ale and the customary pretzels they hand out. So when she gets to you and you order a Sprite, the man to your right’s head snaps to you, giving you quite an incredulous cock of his brow.

“No ginger ale?”

You wrinkle your nose.

“I don’t like it,” Biting back, you interrupt him upon accepting the canned soft drink, expression bitter and unwavering.

“You always got it when you were with me” or “Wasn’t it your favorite” was what you expected to come out of his mouth, positively obliterating any ounce of peace of mind remaining inside your rattling skull. You weren’t about to sit another seven hours sulking about something your ex said.

The ex you were very much over.

Right.

Your new goal? Avoid genuine conversation for as long as possible, at least on this flight.

So, given the chance to be deep in thought, you came to a conclusion.

You were clockwork, just like before. Except now instead of just equaling the time of day, he was the hour hand and you were the minute hand, always chasing after one another only to briefly touch and start all over again in an endless cycle of time.

Although the rockier the air gets and the more your grip squeezes the armrest does your initial goal falter, finding his considerate gesture asking if you were alright practically impossible to keep from responding to.

Especially when a huge drop has his hand racing atop yours, both too nervous to truly let go.

Just the circumstances, you blame, as if this plane was the sole cause of your slamming heartbeat.

Bullshit.

Four days and this trip was going to be one for the books for a multitude of reasons, that’s for sure.

Let’s just hope you can land first.

December 23nd – Paris, France.

His assuring hold on your hand guiding you through the bustling crowds of visitors and locals storming Charles de Gaulle Airport gives you this disgusting nostalgia, festering in your gut the longer you focus on his dark head of hair in front of you, kind, magnificent almond eyes flickering back to catch sight of you time and time again — like you’d magically sift from his grasp.

It’s a miracle you managed to hit ground in one piece, nevertheless end up with the notorious artist-jerkface named Hyunjin navigating you through an supremely overpopulated airport.

Perhaps it’s the scent of wispy pine or faint cigarette smoke that tinges the atmosphere such a rosy hue, perhaps everyone’s anticipation for the holiday’s. Either way, it certainly doesn’t help fuel your “absolutely NO touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda”.

Well, you had no doubt you’d have to stick to your morals on this trip in the first place, and it’s not like the odds were supposed to work in your favor. Although, a little assistance would‘ve been nice.

Guess you’ll just have to make due.

Lovely.

“Thank you!” You shout, forcing your voice to sound chipper speaking to the Cab Driver (opposing the twenty-two hours of traveling you managed to survive through). Except now, you didn’t know what to do nor what to say standing outside the hotel entrance, especially not when Hwang Hyunjin was going to be biting your ass for the next few days.

Much to your luck though, it seemed he was just as clueless as you, both prioritizing just checking into your room first and foremost.

Thankfully, the sights are a wondrous source of distraction, and you devise a plan to go walking more often than not (and not just to avoid Hyunjin). Each building appears as if it’d been expertly carved from stone, historically aged beige, awnings titled a bottomless array of Grand Seiko and Jaeger-LeCoultre.

To add, huge paneled windows are placed in each room, allowing a breathtaking view of the city as evening dawns. Whether it’s a quaint bakery hitched right below a bookstore or the bell tower seated comfortably in the middle of a square—you could never get bored.

Seems your interest tore you away from an unwelcomed reality until Hyunjin cleared his throat, thick eyebrows raised questionably.

“..We could go ice-skating?” He offers, index pointing to the huge rink a few blocks to the left.

You don’t have to speak for him to know your response, unzipping your suitcase to gather a new change of clothes without a word.

“Look, I know you want nothing to do with me, but I doubt either of us will ever have enough money to come to Paris again, so just, do it for the experience, not for me.”

That’s it.

“For you? You think I’m doing this for you? Are you really that conceited to think I’m still catering to you, Hyunjin? I’ve changed whether you like it or not, and I’m not the girl that’s willing anymore,” You toss your clothing to the side, giving him a downright venomous stare. Loathing. “I’m not yours anymore.”

“In fact,” Spitting poison, you stab your index to his chest, causing him to back up the more you advance forward. “You don’t know shit about me.”

He appears torn. His nose scrunches, and his lips form a squabbled line upon his face, evidently troubled.

Somehow, those actions that normally earned your sympathy only reared your deftly oiled gears more, angrily roaring without fail.

“Because if you did, we wouldn’t be like this.”

Gesturing around, you retreat back a few steps, arms slapping your sides irritably. Meanwhile, the tall man remains silent, attention magnetically directed down at his shoes. And for a swift moment, mere seconds, you feel sorry — apologetic even.

It makes you sick to your stomach.

You exhale. “I’ll go, and not for you. Understood?”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply, biting his cheek as he watches you disappear into another room.

You thank the refreshing scent of peppermint for its momentary relief upon entering the bathroom, practically drenching your face in ice cold water over and over as if it’d clear your head.

For you; you’re doing this for you, nobody else, you remind yourself, prepping a washcloth and your toiletries whilst praying the warm shower water eases your blaring jet-lag.

Yet, you didn’t expect a visitor to suddenly pop in while you were mid-shampoo, and it seemed he didn’t expect it either.

You swore the prolonged eye-contact went on for centuries, absolute terror embracing every aspect of your face through the clear shower door.

“Fuck! Get out!”

Scurrying like a character off a cartoon, Hyunjin manages – through spilling apologies – to blindly ram himself into the door, hands gripping his skull.

Suddenly, he pauses, hesitating.

“Wait but I’ve seen you naked befo–”

“GET OUT!” You scream.

“Okay! Okay.” He hurriedly slips out, leaving you to rethink every decision made with his name involved. A recurring thought at this point.

And with that, you quickly accept that your jet lag isn’t even close to gone and likely won’t be as long as the artist sharing your hotel room is within a six-foot radius.

Oh, and you don’t know shit about ice-skating.

Of course, Hyunjin is a natural on ice. He glides like a snow spirit, freer than ever. Meanwhile, your nails are embedded into your vice of a railing, knees shakily attempting at balancing with little success.

He’s the princess, and you’re the frog. It’s decided. Walking while you crawled, running while you walked. A step ahead that was at some point motivating, now plain humiliating.

The ice rink is jam-packed, citizens and tourists alike savoring the crisp winter, the faded twinkling of lights glittering in the distance.

“C’mon, just one?”

You, clawing the icy edge, confusedly avert your focus to where the voice came from.

It’s Hyunjin, gesturing to his camera while you piece together his request before childishly whining your despair. He lifts his toboggan upward, a few endearing tufts of golden peering out to hang over crescent moon eyes, evidently smiling.

Leave it to this man to test your sanity. How could anybody say no when he looked that cute.

“Fine, one.”

Not like I could run off anyway, you mentally consider, finding the fact your legs are quite literally flailing as a good enough sign to give in.

“Yes!” He chirped happily, hurriedly fiddling with his camera.

Watching him with that kind of expression, you witness your Hyunjin again, fumbling around, so excited about the smallest of things.

It hurts.

“I..” He trails off, voice barely audible whilst winking to see through the lense. “Don’t want to miss a moment of you.”

“What was that?”

The camera flashes, and you wonder if you heard him correctly.

“Oh nothing.” His lips curl into a sheepish grin, easing toward you and unexpectedly prying your hand into his own, involuntarily pulling you along.

Panickedly, you clutch onto any article of clothing available (another goodbye to your no-touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda) similar to the handrails, squeezing your eyes shut while painfully awaiting a harsh slam against rock-hard ice.

A harsh slam that never happens.

You cautiously open an eye.

“One, two, one, two.” He counts steadily, soaring across the ice, unable to contain the huge beam the longer he watches you. Captivating.

You fight the urge to smile, the sensation of wind whipping your hair and his warm, reminiscent touch setting your nerves into a dopamine frenzy, making the routinely frown much harder than need be.

Nevertheless, perhaps staying in Hyunjin’s grasp would’ve been the safer option. Because with confidence comes failure (at least in your book of life), and your knees would’ve definitely appreciated not getting ruined.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin murmurs, sympathetically regarding your black and blue frame, looking worse for wear, skates in hand.

“Amputation has never sounded more tempting,” Grumbling, you hobble to return your skates, the man tailing behind you choking back his giggle, kindly waiting in case you stumble.

From the way things are going, the probability is high. Except, Hyunjin walks on eggshells, worried you might rip his head off in the case he asked the question sitting tentatively on the tip of his tongue.

Keeping himself contained had never been as unbearable as when with you, constantly having to refrain from wrapping your precious self into his arms, witness those warm, beautiful hues blinking at him like globes.

Five minutes into the walk back and your near-face-plant-turned-catastrophe was his last straw.

“Can I at least carry you?”

Your head snapping back was almost comical, ogling at Hyunjin as if he told you he’d been neutered or something.

Insane. He’s officially gone insane.

So have you, apparently. Because after getting all too familiar with the icy side walk for a fifth time, you give in, stifling your thoughts from erupting out of your skull—feeling like your entire earth was slowing down on its axis when he easily swept you off your feet.

Cute, hell, romantic too, until you arrive back at the hotel and the curious looks sent your way have your cheeks burning.

“This is so embarrassing.” You whine, burying your face in your hands. Of course, Hyunjin just laughs.

You missed his laugh.

And he cares for you that night, transporting you from room to room in his arms despite your complaints you could do so yourself (although you secretly preferred it, and no, not because it was Hyunjin, only because of how bruised your legs were).

Plus, the mental exhaustion was practically debilitating, sleep beckoning you into its cozy embrace as the clock ticked on the wall. The man before you knelt in front of where you sat on the side of the bed, gently applying antiseptic to your cuts while you blanked in and out of consciousness.

Any common sense had completely abandoned you. Certainly, since you hadn’t noticed only one bed sat dead center in the room. Nor had you noticed through your half-asleep eyes how sweetly he maneuvered you around, pulling the comforter snug over your body.

His hand strays, wistfully smoothing some hair from off your eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, gathering spare pillows and blankets.

He’ll sleep on the floor.

December 24th – Paris, France.

Apparently, there was much more to this Paris dilemma than just the “going to Paris” part (excluding, y’know, the havoc that’s occurred over the past three days).

This fantastic surprise came in the form of a booked Louvre Museum date, now a bit more like a punishment with your current state of soreness merely rising up from bed. And, in turn, seeing Hyunjin sawing logs on the floor below, an action you were inaudibly grateful for.

You two are a different kind of romantic if that’s what you want to call it, especially when Hyunjin practically barricades the bathroom door, nonsensically shouting that he won’t make the same mistake of walking in ever again.

Sweet gesture, but it gets a tad bit irritating when you have to basically charge the door in order to move the chair situated behind it, making you doubt if it was to keep Hyunjin himself out or keeping you in instead.

Yeah. Different kind of romantic. Exes kind of romantic.

Once 5pm rolls around, you’re already dressed and ready to leave, trying your darndest to pretend you’re doing something on your phone to evade conversation. A middle school move, though your ego is on the brink of becoming extinct anyway.

Seems the final act is when Hyunjin steps out of the bathroom, wearing that tan trench coat he always did.

He notices you analyzing, stifling a very tempting smirk.

“I thought you’d like this jacket. Y’know, since you stared at it all the time.”

With a sentence you watched your endangered ego obliterate in real time, embarrassment swallowing you whole. The cycle is neverending.

Thankfully, at least one factor in your unsolvable equation proves itself useful, the factor being your already purchased tickets, granting an earlier entrance into what felt to be a new world.

A new world you recognized as Hyunjin’s world. Vast, expansive. A place you can get lost in and be okay with. Stories hidden behind gold-rimmed frames, so much to tell if only you’d listen.

He lingers by the Psyche and Cupid sculpture longer than usual. Briefly, he told you about them many moons ago. Their love awakening from something much more tragic, apocalyptical.

What a coincidence.

You spend what feels to be days in there, daylight from the lengthy windows overhead falling dark by the time you’re finished. The temperature dropped exponentially while you explored, ignorant to the frigid conditions till realizing you still had your trek back.

Curse the taxi service for not running twenty-four hours.

“You grew your hair out.” You comment, but it’s not really a comment, more like an observation you already knew and felt the need to point out for some odd reason. The awkward silence is suffocating enough.

Granted, you’d known his hair had grown. You saw him every day coming to and fro from work, so any adjustments he made you saw, some of which you remember loving oh so much.

This adjustment was his hair.

Hyunjin’s lips quirk ever so slightly, fingers straying up to tousle a strand.

“You used to love it when I grew it out.”

He continues to walk ahead, ignoring how you had stalled behind, numb grip desperately clutching your puffer jacket as if it’d magically allow you inhalations.

“You would tie it up for me, and stick my paintbrushes in the bun.”

This time, he spins around, seemingly unaffected by your (both literally and figuratively) frozen finger that simply blinks at him — robotic-like.

Like Hyunjin is a stranger. Like your Hyunjin, the old one you were mad for, is now a stranger.

“And I,” He sniffs in, his exhale causing a cloud of air to comprise in its stead. “Really wanted to marry you.”

There’s your breaking point.

He’s pulled you thread by thread closer to an unthinkable free fall, a freezing free fall. Unfurling your strings of yarn to no point of repair. So as you teeter on the edge, your defense mechanisms kick in. And before you can logically consider your options, you smack him.

Right. Across. The face.

He’s stunned, you don’t blame him for that, but there’s also a crinkle in his brows, a look of utmost hurt beginning to stain any somber expression left.

“You have no right to say that when you’re the one that caused all of this.” Your volume increases, unaffected by the glances from passerby.

You have no doubt the two of you are quite a scene, though common sense had long abandoned you, and no thought but fiery rage curls around you, tendrils alight.

“Why the hell did you want to marry me if you can’t even love me? Quit hurting and confusing me Hyunjin, I can’t keep doing this.” Practically pleading, he pulls his palm from where it babied his cheek, instead retreating to your wrists, keeping you in front of him.

“Listen.”

“No!” You screech, trying your hardest to escape.

“Listen.”

You pause, gingerly allowing him to adjust the scarf over your pink nose and ensure your gloves trap warmth for your fingers.

He bites his lip, gaze dancing across your features.

“I love you.”

You shakily exhale, wishing everything would just stop. Time would simply diminish into nothing but stillness, easiness.

Your anguish and anger was easy, and staying mad was a whole lot easier than this—confronting the pains of meeting him again, nonetheless this trip.

He’s finding the pieces to your puzzle.

You want to hide.

Worst of all? Especially hearing him say the words that ended you two months prior.

Cruel.

“I loved you,” His voice wavers. “More than anything, Y/n. And I still do. But when you said that, I got scared.”

He shakily inhales, the grip on you lessening a bit.

“Because when I say I love you back, that means I have someone to lose.”

It’s hypocritical, you know.

Hell, you know what it’s like to be a hypocrite more than anything right now. From hearing the godforsaken news to sitting in an airplane together after wholeheartedly promising yourself you’d never let him have you once more.

Yet here you were, dragging him by his collar into a kiss.

He kisses you back, like an idiot, childishly grasping his clothing-cladden frame against your face and savoring the small bit of heat huddled between where your lips meet.

His trench-coat, you remember, despite so many adjustments, is the same as usual, and it’s almost comforting to find he smells the same as well—floral, with hints of jasmine (mainly thanks to his favorite perfume). You remember that too.

Guess some things never change.

Perhaps he kept that mug after all, drank from it every day like he used to.

And perhaps, right now, he’s wishing back all the time you’ve spent apart, just like you are. Wishing you would’ve just talked like mature, capable adults. Figured things out.

Newsflash, you’re not mature adults. You’re two broken lovebirds fighting to find their song after being caged together, searching high and low for the perfect pitch when all you needed was a single note, a single start.

Positioning you where an arm wraps around your back, the other holding your cheek, he dips you as if in a ballroom dance, not kissing beneath a street light.

Everything is pretty in Hyunjin’s presence.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” You whisper, nostrils burning the longer you’re surrounded by snow, falling in hefty sheets at this rate.

He hums into your lips, maneuvering his head to kiss away the chilled tears beginning to froth upon your waterline. And in those moments, you feel so fragile, so weak in his touch.

Almost instinctively, his grip tightens oh so slightly.

“I really don’t want to lose you.”

And he laughs, a muffled laugh that nonetheless causes his shoulders to shake before delving further into your kiss, melting away every bit of anguish you felt, all the hurt and ache. Dissolved into nothingness by his lips.

Figures briefly illuminated by the light of the street lamp, you remain ignorant to the encroaching nightfall, the way the stars seamlessly blend with white snowflakes. Something out of a fairytale.

You’re certain you could’ve stood there forever, all numb and freezing cold.

But in love. So very in love.

For him you would’ve stood there. And the you still in denial without understanding this entire story would’ve died before admitting that.

This time, you’re okay with letting him finish the puzzle, create a song as lovebirds.

“You won’t, I promise,” He traces your cheek with his thumb. “Now let’s get someplace warm, shall we?”

Landing an affectionate peck to your burning red nose, he takes your hand, guiding you through climbing snow toward your hotel, sign reading “Hôtel de Vendôme” glittering in the distance.

In your opinion, however, it was too fleeting. A kiss you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for until it actually happened, till you pathetically craved it again and again.

Although, that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy gaining feeling back in your fingers and toes, treasuring the flicker of the fire crackling beneath a brick mantel. A few guests litter the lobby, dishing paper cups of hot chocolate left and right, taking the opportunity the mistletoe hanging above a long forgotten stairwell provides.

Christmas Eve and you’re beside the ex you swore you’d never spend it with, spend any time with generally. So surreal you simply cannot stop thinking about it, enough that you become too distracted to notice the mischievous glint in Hyunjin’s vision.

Well, before he points upward and you notice the dangling mistletoe.

And he kisses you again just like you wanted. Deeper, slower, like separating would cause you to break apart, carving your kiss into his memory for a second time.

Standing there, too lost in him to ever consider anything better than this, you begin to think maybe you’ll be able to finish that stagnant book of yours. Maybe it’ll be about two lovers turned two exes, whose trip to Paris might just have been the cherry on top to hurt feelings and broken love. Because, at the end of their tribulations, Cupid falls in love with Psyche.

And you begin to think—as the clock’s ringing announces midnight has arrived—maybe this Christmas will pass by on a good note.

No, you’re certain of it.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

FIC TAGLIST. @slut4colinbridgerton @armystay89 @shujohajohaminnie @minhosbitterriver @callmedarlingsstuff

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stargirl-writes · 6 months

Text

devotion

pairing : f! reader x anakin skywalker

word count : 1.3k

masterlist | ao3 link

summary

when you decided to sleep with anakin skywalker, you have set an arrangement to keep it purely physical. but it was getting harder to repress that you've fallen for him. and tonight, you aren't sure if you can keep seeing him in like this anymore.

tags : angst, hurt/no comfort, pining.

warnings : !mature content! (implication of sexual themes, but not discussed) and drinking. kind of a cliffhanger (i'm debating whether i should make another part still)

notes : hello lovely people, i'm currently hyperfixiating on media referring/relating love to faith and cannibalism (as smone with religious trauma haha!) so here's my tiny drabble on that, i hope ya like it 🪽

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Corruption begins at the mouth. To consume the flesh— the wanting. The thought of being ready to devote entirely. And to be devoured with the same intensity.

So when you agreed to have sex with Anakin Skywalker, you convinced yourself it was purely physical. The attraction has always been there, one of you is bound to break, and to your favor, Anakin had been the one to come to your quarters.

But it doesn't matter. Whatever you feel is overcome by your fear of intimacy. You can satiate the physical sensations without ever needing to commit.

He wanted you. And you wanted him — in the same manner. Purely physical, that was the arrangement you set.

The days are most exhausting but you can give into the relief of coming apart by Anakin's touch, and his hungry kisses, and his deep thrusts. You'd forget the stresses of the galaxies. You'd allow him to hold you, without him knowing that no one has ever stood to your soul as he does when his eyes fix on you at the edge of your climax.

And Anakin would fuck like you were the most beautiful thing he'd got his hands on. He becomes greedy, he'd become the closest thing to intimacy you can define.

It never mattered how you felt before.

He always made sure to have you feel good first, and you'd always make him crumble by your touch after.

It was a mutual exchange.

There's no need to complicate such a clear line by confusing his kisses as something romantic.

You knew he was carnivorous about love— he'd want to be teeth deep in possession. He could love you, if you let him, you could become his God.

And that terrified you more than your fear of intimacy.

You stood up from the sheets, legs still trembling.

Despite the moments earlier, you wrapped your robe around your body, feeling exposed.

You know Anakin would never stay after. It was good that he didn't. At least, then you can reestablish some space after such a binding ritual of fucking and vows that leave his lips in the heat of the moment.

You sat down by the chair away from your bed, pouring yourself a drink. It was a vice you developed during the war. One you can't entirely quit because it sends you straight to sleep.

Anakin was steadying his breath. You heard him shuffling, as if he too was trying to come down from the high.

You downed your drink and poured another. Begging for that warm buzz to come over quickly so you'd stop feeling so... excessively.

Through the mirror, you saw Anakin put back his garments— his hair stubbornly a mess.

You take your gaze away from lingering on his bare torso. Or his sharp jaw. Or his tight back.

You drank your shot once more.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Anakin says, his profile the only thing you could make out from the reflection.

Your heart aches, torn between wanting to say yes, i'll see you tomorrow, please come find me tomorrow, hold me tomorrow, and no, i can't keep doing this tomorrow, i don't want to see you tomorrow.

You cannot admit that you knew loving would destroy you. if he comes tomorrow, you fear you'd break and finally tell him. But then again, if you refuse, he'll know how you felt.

The stage is finally set; for you and Anakin to dance and circle around waiting to be consumed by one another.

Possession is cruel, it corrupts. You thought, with all the love you have— you could eat him whole.

You don't speak, Anakin steps forward, standing very close to your back.

The heat of his body emanates to your robes— casting imprints on the fibers of your soul.

You saw Anakin's gaze land on the drink you were having. He never did like how you turn to alcohol for some sort of relief.

"Did you not want me to come tomorrow?" He insists after noticing your silence.

Your lips purse, "No"

He tilts his head, lost by what you meant.

"No— no, you can, if you want to" you clarified, unsure how committed you were to your own words.

You downed the rest of your drink— feeling the familiar haze of its effect.

"Then what's bothering you?" Anakin speaks softly, you hated how much you didn't want to ruin this.

You sigh, shaking your head "Nothing"

"Nothing at all"

Anakin kneels down, wanting to see your eyes. His eyes were dark, intent, you wondered what they'd look like if he fell in love.

"Did I—" He begins, Your eyebrows furrow at the concern coating his voice.

"Did I hurt you? Did I do something?"

You pressed your palm against his cheek, forcing him to look up. "No, Anakin"

Under your touch, he looked like everything you asked for. Underneath your sinful fingers, he becomes something you could worship.

You caught yourself dreaming and withdrew your hand, taking the glass of alcohol instead.

You could feel his eyes burn at your skin watching you drink.

"I'll see you tomorrow" You dismissed, standing up, trying to establish some space, so you can stop being so encased by his warmth, or his eyes, or his hair, or his hold on you he was so blissfully unaware of.

Your head spun, you fought through the blurriness.

You found yourself at the balcony instead, a breath of fresh air would do you good.

You waited to hear your door lock— held your breath til he left.

But he stays.

"You know, you really should stop depending on alcohol" Anakin appears next to you.

You ran your finger to the rim of your drink, huffing a breathless laugh.

"It's the only thing that comforts me nowadays" You sigh, not intending the double entendre.

Besides, you doubt he'll interpret your attraction to him as anything else.

The silence hung once more. The cold of the midnight air felt crisp against your bare legs, so you hugged your robe against your skin.

"I worry about you" Anakin's voice was husky, exhausted. "We used to be able to talk about everything before"

Your heart tinges in guilt. Along the way, you somehow have pushed him farther away by denying how you felt.

"I'm sorry, I've just been trying to figure out some things"

You're doing it because of love. And for love, you disappear.

"Well, come to me. You know you can always come to me, whenever you need me." Anakin stresses.

You look up, biting your tongue. Begging to stay in one piece.

If you offer yourself— it'd be the most selfish thing you'll do.

You'll be mine. You thought as you get lost in his eyes.

Burning devotion. For all eternity.

"Anakin, we can't keep doing this anymore" You said finally, submitting to your truth.

Anakin's eyes furrow in focus. "Doing what?"

You frown, trying to explain something incommunable.

You've always felt ashamed for wanting. For taking. It wasn't a virtue, it was a disguise. Because you can't love without giving yourself entirely, bones and all. Ravenous, intense, unforgiving devotion.

Because isn't bite also a form of touch?

Finally, Anakin seems to understand the expression painted on your face. You held your breath, bracing for his reaction.

"You wanted this" He reminds. The sterness of his voice made you flinch. It felt like the cruelest rejection.

"I know"

"You said clear lines. No attachments"

"I know" You felt like you were being caught in the act of doing something forbidden.

Anakin's expression hardens, seeming to process your admission.

Your tears were threatening to fall, but you refused to let them. You didn't want him to feel sorry you felt that way. You didn't want him to know how far you've pathetically fallen for him.

He turns to his heel and your heart breaks.

The tear finally leaks your left eye, as your hand reaches out, just enough to grip on the end of his robe.

"Stay"

part ii?

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cod-z · 2 months

Text

Wanted to write angst, get some of my inner thoughts out because I like to mentally abuse myself. The thought of dog tags… just hurts me

TW: Angst/No comfort

| One-shots |

Reblog & Likes are appreciated🥀

2 months ago you had said your ‘goodbyes’ to your beloved, holding one another in a long lasting embrace and giving bittersweet kisses for their safe return, your heart aching as you watch them enter the car and leave off into the distance, into the unknown as you hope that somewhere, beyond the of the human’s eyes and soul - someone is watching out for your solider.

You wait patiently for the arrival of your love, making them breakfast even when they aren’t there, putting their favourite movie and cuddling into their clothes as you imagine that they were there with you throughout the months that passed by - wondering what they were doing, if they were safe, if they were at least getting a decent amount of rest and food.

You knew of their job.

Going on missions, going off raider, no-contact for months on end, rarely contacting when they had a chance but not for long.

You agreed to this when you had decided that you’ll love them forever, be with them as your heart could give, watching the hours tick by and hoping they’ll return to you to hopefully create more memories before they go off into the fields again and disappear to who knows where. Letting that ache of your heart return.

—

Standing in front of him, your eyes lingering into his harden and stern gaze, making your heart flurry immensely against your chest, the way you lose your breath as you first met him in that hallway - barracks at the side and the office doors on the other.

Both of you lingered before parting ways as if nothing had happened in that fleeting moment that you spent staring at one another.

Yet you meet again.

Your eyes on him and his on yours, the briefing had yet to start and here you two were in your own worlds, heart in sync, close and yet so far. Neither of you daring to talk one another and remain as co-workers.

Both wanting more than that.

—

A knock interrupting your memories as how you two once were in the past, smiling softly at the awkwardness that had occurred between the two of you, wiping away the water from your hands on the hand towel that was wrapped around the oven handle, you walked towards the door - waiting for it to be him.

Your eyes widen slightly at his squad mate, before your smile returns, slightly confused why he was there but you felt it.

You felt that sudden change in the air.

You shrug it off and await to see what the man had to say before you second-guess anything.

However…

The feeling of metal collided with your palm that you didn’t even know you held out, deaf to the words he had said before taking out the metal jewellery, your heart clenched as your head felt light, your breath shaking and trembling as you slowly lower your eyes down to the palm of your hands. The metal necklace swirled directly into the centre where two tags sat perfectly.

Your breath hitched. Your throat closed. Your vision blurring.

“He’s gone…”

Those two words had meant nothing compared to the evidence in your hands.

The dog-tags sat perfectly in your grasp and you hate it that it did, your heart felt like someone had stabbed it over and over again, your lungs felt like a snake had constricted itself around it, your body slowly starts to register the news that was brought to you - he was gone.

His friend, his squad-mate, reaches to place a hand on your shoulder as he grieves with you with the loss.

You felt yourself slip away.

Your body sliding down onto your knees as your hand left the doorframe to wrap around your hand that clenched tightly to the dog-tags that were his, holding it close to your shattered heart, your eyes staring at pavement as if it knew all along what happened to your lover.

You watch as the ground turns to a dark grey from the tears that you didn’t know that were forming in your eyes, it hurts so much, he was gone.

You hiccup as more tears fall onto the ground.

Before letting out a cry in anguish to your fallen soldier, your love, your life, your soul.

The other party only looks at you with a solemn expression as well his own grievance to the situation, he stands at the door with you as your curl onto the ground with the dog-tags that belonged to his friend, his brother-in-arms - silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he uses his helmet to cover it.

—

“I think… I hate your dog-tags,” you glared at the metal around his neck.

“Why?” chuckling at your random statement.

“I’m scared the moment you take it off, you’re gone…”

A/N: Personally, I’m not sorry-

Divider Credit(s): @saradika

#cod-z #141 x reader #call of duty fanfiction #task force 141 x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #modern warfare x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #angst #hurt/no comfort

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tarotwithdanise · 1 year

Text

WHAT DO OTHER PEOPLE FIND INCREDIBLY HOT ABOUT YOU?🩷🪻

༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ how to choose pile? ✧ . ˚

꒰⠀from left to right ; intuitively choose the pile your mind, heart and soul desire for. if you are having trouble choosing the right pile for you, here’s some tips you can do ; (1) take a deep breath (2) close your eyes (3) ask guidance from your guides (4) finally open your eyes and you can choose the right pile for you by the guidance you ask from your guides. if you are still having trouble by choosing the right pile for you let me know because i am willing to help and guide you.

PILE ONE PILE TWO PILE THREE

rules, disclaimer and notes ☆

[ 1. ] just a quick disclaimer : this reading was made for entertainment purposes only. this is obviously a general reading so takes what resonates and leave when it doesn’t, you don’t need to force your energy to read this and leave such a bad comment just to say it doesn’t resonates with you at all because the answer is very obvious! i don’t own any these pictures i collected them from pinterest so credits to the rightful owners.

[ 2. ] please ignore any grammatical errors on my reading since english is not my first language, thank you for understanding!

[ 3. ] third to the last one, if you are not an avid fan of this kind of readings and not totally 100% agree about the outcome of this pac please just ignore this post and don’t engaged anymore. however, we have different type of being hot, it's not all about being sexy or having muscles and abs.

[ 4. ] lastly, be happy and enjoy reading my works — feedbacks, comments, likes, reblogs and follows are really appreciated by the reader. (that’s me, lol :3)

for tips, donation, masterlist and paid readings ☆

TIPS JAR🫙 DONATION BOX📦

PAID READING SERVICES🩷 MASTERLIST🪻

[ ♡ ] check out my second account @danisetarot.

SOURCE AND CREDITABLE : all of the pictures are collected and downloaded from twice instagram account, i don’t own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owner however edits goes and belong to yours truly. i use the editor tool ibispaint for the header, divider and piles pictures.

color code : #BC728D

sizes : piles pictures 768x768 | dividers 4096x50 | header 4096x550

(?) deck used : the light seer's tarot.

PILE ONE

You felt overburdened and muted from your past and now you are trying and learning to stand and speak up for yourself and for others whom you think reticent to themselves. In your past you are a people pleaser and tend to say 'yes' at everything they wanted you to be, you'd finally realized that we only live once so, you think what you can do and what is good for yourself because you think in this lifetime that the only matters is only you and not how do others perceive you, you are doing this in a healthy and good way. You are seeing the light while you walking through your own path now. The pressure that your past given to you makes you who you are today where people find amazingly about you. With the ace of swords, I think you wanted to widened your throat chakra more, where you will able to communicate and speak well to other people.

You may good at least in choosing right words when communicating to other's and if not, in singing! You are aiming to speak up for yourself and loved ones with the truth and holding it as if it's already possession into your inner voice. I see people find incredibly hot about the most is the quality of you being so intellectual individual, you are this type of person who can truthfully says "don't judge a book by it's cover", you wanted to study, read and get to know more about that specific book before giving and leaving your judgement, i mean sometimes you can kept this principle of yours frequently but you tend to tried your best to atleast have that inside your mind. I also think that there's someone here that always saying to you that you are intellectual but yet you don't even believe to them, you are doubting this capability of yours but you know inside yourself, you can do everything and you know you are creative and talented person.

Somehow, you vision all of this. You already have a clue about this, you are continuously completing your healing and improvement. You are making a progress now, expect a reward coming at your way throughout this journey. Overall, people find incredibly hot about you is that you are intelligent, creative, brave and talented.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

PILE TWO

People who chose this pile are jolly where if they'll enter a dark room, you are the light and center of attraction there. You liked to show this traits of yours, where you are very childish and happy to others but somehow they're curious to know you, they found you incredibly mysterious and sometimes may act as a cold person perhaps you have this jolly side that you always show to others. This mysterious side of yours where these people often notice about you is the most attractive part of you. They're curious to know you more and maybe you are very private individual, which makes their curiosity to activate and somehow check and stalk your socials and backgrounds. They wanted to know you more but you tend to cut them off of what they can get know about you.

Well, i can't blame you though, you have a high intuition and tend to know what is their intentions and want to you and maybe you have a psychic abilities. I also see here that you are kind, generous and gentle but somehow you may have or might experiencing sadness. It's also hard for you to trust others, it make a lot of time to trust and rely yourself to others so you tend to always make it alone or all by yourself. I also think that you have a long curly hair regardless in what gender you are.

Furthermore about you is that you are fond and big fan of galaxies, stars, planets, forest and night so it makes also sense that you might be an astrologer. This last part may not resonate with everyone but for some, you might have a new buy crystals or new collection of crystal and decks.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

PILE THREE

Okay, people find incredibly hot about you is that you are very sexy and attractive. You have a lot of admirers pile three, I also think that you like to wear the color of red and black which makes you stand out with your circle. You are very friendly, you have a big social circle; a social butterfly indeed. I also see here that you've the prettiest smile or eyes. You value your family, you are someone who is a family oriented. If you literally have a current they see you as husband or wife material or if you are single, you consider yourself as husband/wife material.

I also here that you have a problem right now where you wanted to tell and discuss with others but fear and insecurity comes in. I think you are perfectionist individual. Some of this people fantasties you being tied on their bed or you might into BDSM kind of things. Are you good at dancing? Maybe this is one of the reason why people find you attractive. You are very confident about your talent. While, if you love kids like hanging out with them, playing with them. They find this cute and lovely about you.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts, feedbacks as well tipping and reblogs is well appreciated !! ♡

࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚ 𝓞 ops you already reached the end. ࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚࿙‌֒࿚

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lalal-99 · 10 months

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If You Don't Know {h.h.} | Afterglow Series

©July 2023 by lalal-99 Part of the Afterglow Series Taglist for series

Hyunjin x afab!reader | trope: break up sex, lovers to exes | smut, angst | wordcount: 6k

Synopsis: “You know, if it weren’t for my job, I wouldn’t go. Right? I would never leave you like this voluntarily.” Hyunjin understood. Obviously, he did. Your job came first. It had always come first and would always come first in the future. Just as it did for him. It was the one thing he respected most about you. “And you know if it weren’t for mine, I would leave everything behind and come with you, right?”

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

Note: I'm very emotional. Don't talk to me (comment though). Just listen to the playlist, it's self-explanatory. Also read the other stories in this series. I'm going back to crying now.

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @joonghands @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @shincode @svintsandghosts @snoozeagustd @tinyarsonist @fxckedupbitch @rachabreathing @haneuljisung @goblinracha @maknaeswrld @michbang02

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There it was again. The heart-wrenching, soul-shaking pain that made it so very harder for Hyunjin to breathe. To live. To look at you.

He had never imagined ever being this hurt by you, unable to look at you longer than a few seconds while at the same time respecting every decision that had led you here. Not you. Not the person he had planned his whole future and spent the majority of his adulthood with.

The two of you were meant to be together; had decided so after only months together. Because no one could ever get you as much as Hyunjin did, and vice versa. You were the perfect match of similarities and differences. For everything you had in common, there was something you could teach the other about. For every fight you had – bickering over something unimportant – you agreed on a much more intense matter. The perfect back and forth, even after years together.

He still remembered the first time he saw you at that rooftop party one of his friends had held a few years back. He noticed you while talking to a guy he so desperately hoped was your brother or cousin. Or best friend. Anyone, as long as he wasn’t your boyfriend. He recalled the first time you made him laugh, just seconds later, when you let out an unintended snort while laughing at something your brother/cousin/best friend had said. And his own hearty giggle in response to your amusement ultimately induced the first time you noticed his existence. The world had stopped around Hyunjin as you caught his gaze – embarrassed redness warming your cheeks as you realised he had witnessed your weird laugh.

It had taken him about 20 more minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore and approached you. He knew he would never forgive himself for not hearing the sweet sound of your voice or seeing the mesmerising spark in your eyes up close at least once.

Hyunjin also remembered the exact moment he fell in love with you. Staring at you with heart eyes when you told him you were an artist, too. A painter, just like himself. Why ever this was what did it for him, Hyunjin had never questioned. Although he knew, as he laid in bed that night, eyes painting pictures against the white ceiling, that he needed to see you again. If only to talk about your favourite artists and art museums for another 3 hours.

Hyunjin recognised – and had done so way before – that he’d never forget any of those precious moments.

Like when you went to the fair on your first date and won him a stuffed dumpling, already aware they were his favourite food. Or how you were forced to cut your date short moments later when you noticed the first person wearing Stray Kids merch. And obviously, he would always hold that day dear in his heart. Despite the unfortunate ending of your date, you had called him minutes after he had dropped you off at your apartment to tell him that you already couldn’t wait to see him again. He had turned around, sprinting back and ringing your doorbell, overwhelming you with a kiss once you opened the door for him.

Or the time you went to the beach, chatting endlessly with your feet dangling over the water. The moment Hyunjin pulled away from your lips, moonlight sparkled in your irises, catching them in the perfect lightning. He blurted ‘Please be my girlfriend’ quicker than his brain could process, heart only settling once you caught his lips again, whispering a content ‘Yes’ against him.

The first time you told him you loved him was engraved in his brain, never to be forgotten. You exclaimed it (just as unintentionally as he did when he asked you to be his girlfriend) while cuddling in bed, laptop playing your favourite Disney movie. It was merely background noise as his heart skipped multiple beats, lips curving into a shit-eating grin as he repeated your words back to you before kissing you, his body soon hovering over you as he worshipped every possible edge of your figure.

All these moments, everything he had hoped to one day tell his children and grandchildren about. Every memory that came back to him made him so unbelievably content he could cry. And still, as his eyes focused on your back, he was hurt. He understood, but he was also in unbearable pain.

“When did you get back?” Hyunjin had watched you for a minute before finally speaking up, stepping onto his balcony to join you. With the shrinking distance, so shrunk his pain. Even if just slightly.

“A while ago.”

After storming off about two hours ago, you took time to walk it off. While unable to reach you, Hyunjin had taken the same time to talk about what had happened to the one person he never imagined having such deep talks with within his household. He had been searching for Chan or Changbin, knowing how busy his hyungs usually were, and unsurprisingly found neither. He was about to call either of them, crying his heart out over the phone, hoping they would take pity and come home to comfort him when he bumped into Jisung.

Although their conversations never reached beyond the unserious topics of food, hobbies, or embarrassing memories, Jisung turned out to be the one person Hyunjin needed right now. Listening was his strong suit, allowing Hyunjin to spurt out all the thoughts in his head without judgement or advice. Jisung’s incapability to lead Hyunjin the way left him no choice but to do the thinking and solving himself. Just talking about the situation and rambling about how unfair life was turned out to be exactly what he needed.

“We should probably talk about it, right?”

“Yeah, probably,” you agreed with a sigh. Hyunjin came to your side, his hand hugging yours on the railing as he gazed into the distance. “The things you said- that really hurt me. Like... I know I’m the bad guy here, but still.”

“You’re not the bad guy. We always knew this day could come.”

You love me? Well, you have a shitty way of showing it!

“And I’m sorry. I keep replaying it in my head, and I didn’t mean it. I just- needed to react.”

His words kept ringing in his memory as much as he tried drowning them out. It had taken saying them out loud to Jisung a gazillion times to finally realise how wrong he was. How unfair he had treated you.

Go ahead, then! Rip my heart out! Show me what the love you claim to have is all about!

He had said them to your face. Like an absolute asshole.

“I- fuck. This just really sucks. Like, so much.”

“It does. And I’m sorry.”

He knew you were. You had said so, so many times he had lost count. And he knew he’d be sorry too, had it been him leaving. He had left you in the past, multiple times, for that matter, and he had felt so guilty every time. But it wasn’t him this time. It was you. And it wasn’t just weeks either. You were looking at a year, maybe more. That didn’t compare to all the times he had to leave for tour – two weeks, four, sometimes six.

“You know, if it weren’t for my job, I wouldn’t go. Right? I would never leave you like this voluntarily.”

Hyunjin understood. Obviously, he did. Your job came first. It had always come first and would always come first in the future. Just as it did for him. It was the one thing he respected most about you.

“And you know if it weren’t for mine, I would leave everything behind and come with you, right?”

A tiny smile appeared on your face, although it was just as much a loving one as a hurting one.

“So, what now? Are we just supposed to end things?”

Is this what love is all about? Loving and letting go? Finding someone and losing them? An endless cycle?

You shifted your weight to lay your head onto his shoulder like you had done all those times before. Though this time, your head felt much heavier.

“I think so, yes.”

Hyunjin laid his spinning head onto yours, kissing your temple before focusing on the horizon again.

“What if-” It was a spontaneous outburst, his mouth betraying his brain like it did when he had asked you to be his all these years ago. Hyunjin didn’t know where he was going with it anyways, but you interrupted him before he could find out.

“Don’t do this,” you warned, pulling away to find his eyes. The sadness in his was heartbreaking, tears forming at the edges. He hated the realisation that despite the moonlight catching your irises, they didn’t sparkle. It was more like a glimmer caused by the liquid drowning them. “Don’t try to save this. Let’s enjoy the time we have left instead of clinging to the future we imagined for ourselves.”

Hyunjin was in the same parts frustrated with and respectful of the rationality you handled this situation with. Especially knowing this must break you as much as it did him. That’s what your face told him, brows furrowed and eyes dimming, to prevent the overflowing pain from spilling over.

As much as he wished to find a solution, he knew better than to waste whatever hours the two of you had left together. He wanted to spend every second of it loving you, touching you. The faster he accepted the inevitable, the sooner he’d get to just live.

Hyunjin held your face in his hands, your cheeks pushed between his palms so adorably squishy as he tried memorising every pore. That distinct mole on the bridge of your nose, those beautiful eyes he had spent weeks staring into, the pout of your lips as you looked up at him. He used to love all of those features that had become the muse of his work, drawings and every day. Now, looking at you, wiping a stray whiplash off your cheekbone, filled him with unease.

“I know we just broke up,” a tear escaped your eye at his words, running down your jaw and caught by his thumb. Saying it out loud made it so much more real. “But I really want to kiss you right now.”

Your chuckle was met with a lip bite as you leaned up to catch his mouth in a heavy kiss.

The sensuality of the kiss almost made him forget what had just happened, tongues soon finding each other.

“I’ll so miss those lips.”

Hyunjin smirked at your words, drawing away but keeping his hands on your cheeks. “Not just the lips, I hope.”

“No. I’ll also miss braiding your hair. And painting your nails.” Tilting his head, your heart almost combusted at how adorable he looked. “Fine. I’ll also miss the man behind all those things.”

“But most of all, my lips?”

“Exactly.”

“What will you miss most about them?” His lower lip wandered between his teeth as he watched the blush creep up your neck.

“I’ll miss kissing them. Tasting you-”

“Just kissing them? Nothing else?“

“I’ll miss their plumpness and how they feel against my- my- neck.” As on cue, he tipped your head back with the push of a finger against your chin, mouth meeting your main artery. His kisses were hot against your flushed skin, tracing the veins until he reached under your ear. His wet tongue darted out to lick over the sensitive part of your neck.

“Your neck, huh? Anywhere else?”

You weren’t stupid. You knew what Hyunjin was doing. And you would have been lying had you claimed you weren’t entirely on board with it.

“My chest,” you answered breathlessly as his hands followed his lips, eventually circling your neck to keep you in position. You reached for his long locks, entangling and pulling at their blonde roots as he kissed your cleavage. Hyunjin moaned against your skin but didn’t let go. He was entirely caught up in the moment, tranced by the smell of your perfume and your body’s reactions. His kisses always made your senses blur and your brain fog. “My stomach.” Hyunjin’s hands graced your arms, down your sides, until his fingers grasped your shirt. Pulling it up, he exposed the skin. Soon enough, you felt his lips against your navel.

“Go on.” His words were almost silent, moaned against your flesh.

“My- my-”

“I’m listening.”

“My thighs,” you ended your thought, breath hitching when Hyunjin sank to his knees. Hadn’t your hands been in his hair, you wouldn’t have noticed. Not until you felt his lips exactly there. On your thighs. Kissing every fibre of them. Licking over the skin. Closing in on your centre.

What a day to wear a skirt.

That you were still on the balcony of his apartment had completely slipped your mind. How couldn’t it with how utterly overwhelming his kisses were?

Small bites led his way all over your flesh, tongue darting out every few kisses to capture your taste. That’s everything he could think of at that moment. To capture your essence, fill his head with all those details about your smell, touch, and body.

Pushing your skirt up, he slowly unveiled you for him. Not like he didn’t exactly know just how you looked under it. He had spent hours, days – weeks, probably – getting to know your body and every one of its details. Your beauty marks, your stretch marks – which he found just as beautiful – your erogenous zones. Hyunjin knew how sensitive you were on your thighs, playing with that knowledge to his and your hearts’ content.

“Baby…” His heart jumped at your pet name, the next bite extra deep, making you groan.

“I love it when you call me that.”

His fingers wandered around your body to your ass, nails pushing into your skin as he kneaded it. Mouth wandering even further up, he soon reached your panties, tongue dancing along the hem.

As much as he wanted to take his time, he let himself be urged by your quickening breath and fingers pulling his hair. Wrapping his teeth around the elastic, he dragged it down your thighs, exposing your heat to his longing gaze. He intended to worship you, devour you, until all you could say – or scream – was his name. And there was no doubt that he knew how to achieve his goal.

“Hyunjin…”

“Say it again,” Hyunjin pleaded, tongue tiptoeing centimetres over your core. “Call me ‘baby’.”

“Fuck, baby. Please. I’m begging you.”

The absence of a verbal answer was forgotten as Hyunjin dove in, muscle pushing between your folds to softly run over your flesh. A dark moan escaped your lips, head falling back against your neck as you threatened to suffocate.

One thing to know about Hyunjin was that he was a Soft Boy™. Everything about him was gentle and calm – midnight pillow talks, painting beside each other, making love. He never went full force right at the get-go; or in the further stages, for that matter.

His tongue was precise, the sharp tip toying with every nerve ending between your tiniest crevices. As though he was worshipping every fibre, taking his sweet, sweet time.

Despite being surrounded by fresh air, you got ridiculously hot, moans tumbling out of you loosely. Had the balcony not been shielded from the neighbours on either side, they would have easily spotted you. Although, you doubted they wouldn’t have figured out your evening shenanigans if they were to overhear. The sloppy noises from Hyunjin’s mouth on you mixed with your sounds of pleasure were more than self-explanatory.

His tongue leisurely roamed around your core, dipping into your hole before passionately prodding against your clit.

You grew even hotter, fingers running through Hyunjin’s hair while your head lolled from side to side.

You could already tell you wouldn’t last as long as usual, only reinforcing that feeling when he pulled one of your legs over his shoulders. With your back pressed against the railing, one of your hands came to the metal bar to stabilise your body. Hyunjin was rocking your body in the most literal sense, lips wrapping around your nub as the new angle allowed him to devour you even more reverently.

Looking down at him was possibly the worst decision you could have made, the sight of him between your thighs heavenly. He looked like an angel as he made out with your heat, eyes closed in concentration and desire.

You were so in love with the man that the pure vision of him eating you out, gaining as much pleasure from it as you did, was leading you closer to your impending high.

“Fuck. Hyunjin.” Your whimper was met with a squeeze of your plush thigh, a smile spreading on your face as you instantly understood the indication of his action. You quickly corrected yourself to please him, “Baby. I’m so close.”

Spreading your folds with two of his fingers, Hyunjin focused the movement of his tongue on your clit, gently stroking it back and forth. He opened his eyes to note your reaction as you had long gone back to gazing at the night sky, sight blurring as you savoured the moments before your inevitable orgasm.

Your breath quickened with every single one of his movements. You could almost taste the sweet release as your ab muscles mildly contracted. Hyunjin must have noticed a particular reaction in your figure, a grin appearing on his face as he pulled at your nub one last time before withdrawing.

It took you a couple of seconds to gather that he wasn’t resuming his actions, a sigh leaving your lips.

“Don’t be mad.” Joining you at eye level, Hyunjin pushed his lips against yours, letting you taste yourself. “We have all night. You’ll get to come. Eventually.”

After spending many years with each other, you knew Hyunjin liked to tease and edge you. For some reason – be it overpowering you or his sadomasochistic tendencies – he had always loved making you go crazy for him. Since your first time together, the process of making love solely lengthened. Rarely did your shared time last for less than a couple of hours at a time; your record standing at an all-nighter on your anniversary a couple of months ago.

Despite the situation being sadder than the celebration of your relationship, you could already tell that this wouldn’t be a quick goodbye. Frankly, you didn’t expect to get any sleep tonight. Hyunjin’s intentions were transparent as he took your hand and guided you into his room. All it took was a sharp twist of his wrist, and you were situated on his bed, body pulled all the way to the edge as he glided into place.

Thus began the most excruciating hours of your life, Hyunjin locking his mouth to your body and tossing the key.

Somewhere between the 10th and the 15th maddening edge, you believed you had lost consciousness for a while. You still remembered Hyunjin pulling out your rabbit, placing it between your thighs to offer you something to clench around as he concentrated on your clit. Nibbling. Sucking. Craving.

When you came to, Hyunjin had repositioned you at the headboard. His mouth was on one of your nipples, teeth gently sinking into it as a sea of whimpers washed over your tongue. Had you still had any sort of power to talk, you’d have told him to finally fuck you. That all you needed was to be around him, clenching around him instead of the vibrating silicone.

At last, after around another 30 minutes of Hyunjin slowly travelling up your trembling shape, he finally landed in eyesight. His lips around your neck sucked at your bruised skin, breath shallow as you swore you started seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Please.”

Even your voice had become so frail it barely reached above a whisper. Hyunjin arrived at your eye level, body held carefully above yours to not crush you. His lips were swollen red, blood pumping through them as though they were his most vital organ. When you noticed the blurriness in his eyes – from either being in a trance or crying, you couldn’t tell – another whimper left your lips.

“Please, what, baby?”

His voice also broke, though still a lot less fragile than yours.

“Please…” Words. What even were words? You could barely put together multiple letters, let alone syllables. “Baby, please…” Focusing your eyes on the ceiling, you felt your abs weakly contracting as the vibrator still pumped away inside you. So steadily inside you. Inside you. Inside. Inside. “Inside. Please. Baby.”

You knew you couldn’t get closer to what you were trying to ask him to do. Tears of relief rolled down your cheeks when finally, after possibly the most prolonged foreplay you had ever received, he pulled the toy out of you with a smile.

“Anything for my baby.”

“Baby,” you repeated his words, your head rolling forward to watch him enter you.

And enter you he did. With an agonisingly slow-paced movement, Hyunjin slid his length into you, rubbing the numbly swollen walls until he couldn’t go any further.

Feeling you instantly clenching around him, core so delicate from hours of teasing, Hyunjin waited a while – possibly minutes. For what felt like an eternity, he merely kissed you, lips still not surrendering. You had no mind questioning how he wasn’t entirely spent like you.

“Can I move?”

You nodded, eyes immediately closing in pleasure as he retracted. With how tender you had become, it felt as though every single one of his movements was lighting your nerves on fire. Hyunjin kept unwinding inside you, but you had already reentered that wonderful place between serenity and desire.

“Baby, you’re so tight.” Yeah, no shit. You wanted to yell at him and tell him that’s what comes from hours of stimulation without release. Too bad you still couldn’t talk. Or move. Or think.

Everything felt so good. Like Hyunjin was stimulating every part of your body simultaneously. You couldn’t remember another time you had felt this close to him, physically; bodies morphing into one as he panted above you. You breathed the same boiling air, let out the same delicious sounds, and looked at each other with the same amount of pure, unwavering love.

“I love you so much. All of you. Forever.”

The words Hyunjin had repeated so many times to you throughout your relationship were what broke you.

The tears that had previously signalled your relief – eventually able to have all of him – turned to ones of sadness and despair. It took around 10 seconds for Hyunjin to realise you were crying, movements haltering abruptly.

Remaining still inside you, Hyunjin brought his fingers to your face to brush away the salty liquid.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” he questioned compassionately, irises boring into your own through the veil of sorrow. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. M-” Your voice broke away, hands coming up to shield your face from his view. Here you were crying during sex, having Hyunjin so worried he had hurt you. “Me. I- I hurt you.”

It all came to you now. Yes, you had been feeling guilty for the past few weeks. Ever since you found out you would be leaving. Leaving your home. Leaving him. But now, it finally hit you. You wouldn’t just be exiting his life. You would be leaving him in pieces. He loved you so much. All of you. Forever. And you loved him just as much. Maybe even more.

You never meant for it to end this way. You had been in denial about your departure since it was decided. And now that it had moved so very closely, you doubted every decision you had made.

“I hurt you. But I love you. So much.”

“I know.” Hyunjin seemed calm, as though he was trying to stay strong for the two of you. Like you hadn’t shattered his heart by revealing you had chosen your career over him. “It’s alright, baby. I’m okay.”

He brought your trembling hand to his mouth, kissing every knuckle before brushing your fingers over his face. His skin was soft, courtesy of the dozen skin products he used every day. Oh, how’d you miss putting sheet masks over his smooth, handsome features and massaging the cream deeply into his pores. He always smelled so much like flowers afterwards that, at some point, your subconscious had saved it under ‘home’ in the databank of your mind.

“See? I’m just like always. I’m okay.”

Even if he was right now, you knew he wouldn’t be. No matter when it would happen – tomorrow, next week or once you were gone. Eventually, he would realise the pain you had caused him and how he couldn’t act nonchalant forever. And then he’d break. Because of your actions. Because of what you did. To him. The love of your life.

“Okay.” You echoed his words, hoping he would eventually be just that. Okay. Get over you and be okay.

There was no way of knowing.

“Okay.”

Meeting your lips, Hyunjin gave you a soothing kiss. As though you would break under too much pressure – like porcelain.

He resumed his previous movement; sliding out of you before sinking himself entirely back in. After the sudden change in atmosphere – a more bittersweet taste coating your tongue – Hyunjin sped up. It didn’t take much of you to figure out that he was trying to distract you from your pain.

And it probably would have worked just fine. Hadn’t it been for that one tear slipping from the corner of his eye. Rolling down his pink cheek and falling onto yours, joining your own as they rolled down your neck.

That’s when you realised. He wouldn’t be okay.

The sun kissed Hyunjin awake in the morning, rays tickling his bare skin as he opened his eyes. He brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyelids with the back of them. A tired yawn left his mouth as he stretched his arms over his messy hair.

He couldn’t remember when he had fallen asleep. That he had felt calm enough to rest even slightly was a miracle in itself, his mind wide awake most of the night as he tried to get used to the idea of you leaving. Definitely not a nice thought, but he couldn’t let it get to him just yet. After seeing you breaking down mid-intercourse yesterday, he needed to stay strong for you. So you wouldn’t feel as guilty for leaving.

Hyunjin looked to his side as reality slowly caught up with him, finding the rest of the bed deprived of your presence. He figured you had already gotten up, the shower in the next room hitting the tiled wall softly.

Deciding to get a headstart for the day Hyunjin had planned, he left his bed, pulling a pair of sweatpants over his thighs as he looked for the shirt he had worn. It took him a couple of seconds to realise that you must have taken it, grabbing a new shirt out of his dresser with a satisfied smile playing on his face.

Waltzing into the dorm kitchen, Hyunjin discovered Changbin and Jisung’s rooms empty, their doors wide open. They must have gone to the gym already, and knowing Chan, he probably was at the studio. Either already or still – Hyunjin could never be quite sure.

Even though the dorm was empty most days, he never complained about having all this extra space. Especially not today, as he had already painted a mental picture of the last few days with you by his side. Staying in and spending time with each other was at the top of his list, so having the whole living space to yourselves was more than perfect.

After retrieving two fresh cups from the dishwasher, he left them to fill under the coffee machine while searching the fridge. He barely remembered the last meal he ate, so he was positively starving. Some leftover dinner from either of his roommates was stored in containers, and since he knew they wouldn’t be back in the near future, he decided to take it and place it in a clean pan to heat up.

“Baby? I’m making breakfast. You want something?” When there was no answer, Hyunjin repeated his question, approaching the bathroom until he could knock softly on the door. The shower had stopped, but maybe you couldn’t hear him over the sound of your own thoughts. It wouldn’t have been the first time, anyways. “Baby?”

The door opened a second later, his smile fading as he realised it wasn’t you in the bathroom but rather a slightly shorter, definitely broader member of his band. Droplets of water landed on Hyunjin’s face when Chan ruffled his hair under his towel, another sitting low on his hips.

“No baby. Just me.”

Hyunjin could tell so much.

“You know where she is?”

“I haven’t seen her,” Chan replied, leaning against the door frame as Hyunjin hurried to the other bathroom. He knew you preferred the one he shared with Chan as it was bigger and, most importantly, cleaner. Perhaps you had moved to the other one as this one was occupied. “I did hear the front door earlier, though. But that could have been the kids.”

When Hyunjin found the other bathroom as well as the remaining two bedrooms empty, he sped back into his own.

“Jisung told me what happened. Did you make up yesterday?”

“We did. At least, I think we did.” Once out of his room with his phone in hand, Hyunjin found his friend’s eyes. “She’s still leaving, and we broke up. But we talked about it. I thought we were spending the last few days together.”

Hyunjin unlocked his phone and turned off aeroplane mode, his thumb hovering over the call button next to your name. He was about to press it when he noticed a red icon at the bottom of the display, hinting at a new voicemail. Weird, seeing he hadn’t gotten a voicemail in what felt like at least 5 years.

Playing the voicemail instead, he brought his phone to his ear, listening to what he interpreted as your footsteps and a door closing. Finally, your voice appeared. It wasn’t until he heard a sniffle that his heart sank into the pits of his stomach.

“Hi-” your voice broke as you were crying. “I’m so- sorry. I know I said I was okay, but I’m really not. I miss you so much already… I can- can’t.” Whatever you meant, it couldn’t have been good, or else you wouldn’t be so obviously losing control over your emotions. Hyunjin checked the time stamp, realising you had recorded it about 15 minutes earlier. “Fuck. I should have definitely thought about what to say…” A small, sad chuckle followed. “I know we talked about this, and I told you I would leave in two weeks… But I can’t stay. Not when I know how much I hurt you…”

Looking into Chan’s eyes as his heart broke, Hyunjin realised the meaning of your words. You were leaving. Not in two weeks, not tomorrow. Now. He couldn’t let this be the end without getting to at least say goodbye properly, so he sprinted back into his room. He grabbed a pair of sneakers and a jacket, pulling them over his body as he kept your voice right by his ear.

“I’m staying with a friend for the next few days before catching an early flight. All my stuff’s gone anyways, so there’s nothing holding me in my apartment… You’re probably on your way out already, and I obviously can’t dictate what you do. But I’m asking you anyway. Please don’t come after me…” Hyunjin stopped dead in his tracks, Chan’s eyebrows furrowing. “Please don’t make it harder for me or you. This is already breaking us. I don’t think I can handle seeing you again… Not when I know that it will be the last time.”

A single tear escaped Hyunjin’s eyes as he fell onto the couch, eyes focused on a random spot on the blank wall. Chan immediately came to his side, strong arms wrapping around his shoulder.

Hyunjin didn’t react. Couldn’t possibly react when his whole mind was on you.

“I don’t even know why I called you. I just… You deserve a proper goodbye, I think. Even if over the phone… God, I’m such a bitch doing this over the phone, aren’t I? Maybe I should turn around.” You stopped for a few silent seconds, peaking Hyunjin’s hope. But all was for nothing when you picked your pace up. “But I won’t. I’m really sorry. I know this is egoistical of me, and believe me. I hate myself for this.”

Why would you hate yourself when Hyunjin loved you so much. Despite you leaving him. Despite you choosing your career over him. It had always been a possibility; both of you were well aware things could end, given the opportunity. Now that it had, why would you blame yourself?

“I’m…” Again, silence fell over the line, giving Hyunjin a chance to breathe. He hadn’t even realised he had held his breath until the oxygen finally filled his head again. “I love you so much. All of you. Forever. I hope you know this. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love someone like this again. Not in this lifetime.”

Why didn’t he run after you? Because you had told him not to? No. Perhaps it was the awareness that nothing he said, and nothing he did, could change reality. You were leaving, one way or another. So, why would he ruin what was basically the perfect goodbye? Not this call, obviously. But the last night. Being with you. Loving you. It couldn’t become more perfect than this.

“I will never forget any of the memories we made. I don’t think I can, even if I tried. I won’t forget the way we could talk about art all night. About anything, really. I will forever remember listening to all those songs, singing along, and crying to them. I won’t forget how you always looked at me with so much love. Much more than anyone’s ever given me. The smell of hugging you. The taste of kissing you. All of it is imprinted in my brain. Never to be forgotten. This sounds so sappy, I am very aware of that….”

The laugh escaping your lips – your perfect lips that Hyunjin could never quite stop kissing – made him smile. Even if just for a second, it somewhat healed a piece of his heart and left about 999 others for later reassembling.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… You are my person. That won’t change. Ever… I love you.”

By now, his whole face was red, swollen from the tears streaming down his cheeks. The only thing holding him together was Chan’s physical support. And your voice. He would listen to your voicemail countless times throughout the next few weeks, though he didn’t know it yet.

You pulled the phone away from your ear just to bring it back once more.

“Oh. And I took your shirt. You know, the one I always borrowed. I hope you’re not too attached to it.” Another smile on his face that healed another broken piece of his heart. No, he wasn’t attached to the shirt. He was attached to the person wearing it. “Okay, that’s it. Bye.”

And just like that, the voicemail ended.

Check out all the other stories in this series here!

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rebelwrites · 7 months

Text

Two: Welcome To Charming

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till The wheels Fall Off Master List

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Charles could have strangled his best friend as he was still pissed off at the fact he had been demoted to passenger princess. They had been on the road for what felt like an eternity and he swore he could see some gray hairs forming in the mirror from Pierre’s driving. Right now? You wouldn’t have known he was a Formula One Driver. Somehow, he managed to hit every single pot hole on the road and at one point Charles thought they were going to drive straight into a large tree but no matter how much Charles protested Pierre would not let him take over.

“You do know we are in the middle of nowhere right?” the Monégasque huffed, checking his phone to see that the signal was practically non-existent.

“Yep,” Pierre smirked, refusing to take his eyes off the road, “you need a break from reality and where better to recharge than somewhere away from everything? And, if we are lucky, no one will even care who we are.”

Charles rolled his eyes at the comment, but deep down he knew his best friend was right. Over the last few weeks he had fans turning up at his home address, which was a step too far. Charles didn’t mind stopping in the street to take pictures and sign things, but showing up at his home was damn right disrespectful.

This season had been a write off to say the least. Starting with two DNFs was not what anyone had planned, so the young driver found himself snapping at people he cared about because of the performance stress that he quickly found himself under.

“Four weeks in the woods, lucky me,” Charles scoffed, running his hand over his face. Staring out of the window, he watched as they drove through the town. He couldn’t help but laugh as the bright red Purosangue was drawing the attention of everyone they passed. Maybe taking the Ferrari suv wasn’t the smartest idea his best friend had ever had.

“Still think this is the perfect car to keep a low profile?” Charles asked in amusement. “Nous ne sommes pas à Monaco maintenant Pierre. We are not in Monaco now, Pierre.”

“Okay, this wasn’t my best idea,” Pierre huffed, admitting Charles was right once again.

They both just hoped that things would be calm once they checked into the lodge, even though they couldn’t check in until later that afternoon.

Their trip could only go one of two ways; complete shit or amazing and just what they both needed. Charles silently prayed that this break was exactly what he needed to relax and recharge for the rest of the season. The last thing he wanted was to be hounded by fans with every step he made. Normally he would have spent the summer break with his mum, two brothers and their partners but for some reason something told him to agree to going to California with his best friend. He couldn’t figure out why he had such a strong pull to the small town he had never heard of, but it was as if his heart was guiding his decisions.

Letting out a long breath he rested his head against the window of the car, dropping his gaze to the phone that had been disregarded in his lap, thankful that the phone signal and data connection had started to pick up the further they drove into town. At least he wasn’t fully cut off from the world.

They were surrounded by a vast amount of trees varying in shapes, sizes, and colors. The welcome sign that sat at the side of the road was surrounded by perfectly kept rose bushes, the bright paint standing out against the shades of light pink and green. It was obvious to him that this town took pride in their appearance to the outside world, but it was the name that made Charles smile.

Welcome to Charming.

Once again, there was the pull he felt when first deciding to go on this trip. It was bugging him because he had never been to this small town before but it was like he had a connection to it in a past life. The moment they crossed the town line his body instantly relaxed, there was no other way to describe the feeling other than being at home.

As they continued on the road, Charles noticed that all of the buildings had a similar look to them. Each one was a different color with perfectly maintained flower boxes hanging from each window all bursting with a contrasting color of plants. The whole place looked like a toddler had been let loose with tins of paint.

He turned his gaze to the side, noting that the vast forest was now in the rear view, once again everything felt familiar to him, like he had been to this place in a dream. He was going to say something to Pierre but chose to bite his tongue instead, knowing his best friend would rip the shit out of him for saying something so ridiculous. On their right there was a large lake that housed way too many boats for either of them to count, along with a mini golf course at the water's edge. This was like a place you would only find in books.

“So does everything around here revolve around that lake?” Charles asked, quickly glancing over at Pierre who just shrugged.

“How am I meant to know?” he laughed.

“Well, you did book this trip mate,” Charles said, rolling his eyes at the Frenchman.

“Spose you do have a point there,” Pierre hummed, dropping his gaze to his phone checking he was still on the right road as the sat nav had suddenly gone quiet. Charles turned his attention back to their surroundings, from first glance he could tell this was going to be a tight knit community, due to how he watched people in the street greeting each other like life long friends and to be honest they probably were. “I believe there is also a dirt bike track and a karting track,” Pierre smiled, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel, “from what I’ve heard this town is usually booming at the height of summer. I’m sure we will find plenty to do and plus there’s a beach not too far from here.”

“So if this place is ‘booming’ in summer, why did you think it would be the best place for a quiet get away?” He laughed, cocking his brow at his best friend.

Right now the town seemed like it was only full of locals but if during the height of summer this was a popular tourist attraction it would mean neither of them would get a moment's peace and they might have well stayed in Monaco.

He didn’t miss the eye roll from Pierre. “I checked online and it looked like they have had quite a few storms recently which has caused the town to be pretty quiet. Normally the place is packed come the start of June,” Pierre nodded as they turned into the car park to a quaint bar.

“If we get mobbed by fans I am coming for you!” Charles half smiled but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this break wasn’t going to go how Pierre envisioned it.

“I’d like to see you try, Leclerc,” Pierre chuckled as he turned off the main road onto a short dirt track.

Charles quickly forgot about the conversation as Pierre quickly backed into a parking space. “Are we here?” he hummed, praying the answer was yes, he had spent far too long cooped up in the vehicle. His attention was consumed by the building in front of them. It was completely different to the rest of the places they had not long driven by. It was perfectly maintained and the flower boxes on the windows were in full bloom. All of the other buildings on the main street were brightly coloured, but this place looked edgy with a charcoal matte paint causing the bright flowers and neon signs to stand out against the darkness of the walls. Despite all of that it had a family feeling to it, and judging by how many cars that were parked in the gravel parking lot this place was pretty popular.

The bright red neon sign hanging on the side of the wall mesmerized Charles, he had no idea why and in the end he just put it down to being tired from traveling all day. His mind started to wander, thoughts of living in a small town filled his head.

“Let’s hope they serve food, I’m starving,” Pierre hummed, killing the engine.

Without saying a word, Charles jumped out of the car, pulling his arms behind his head letting his aching body stretch out from hours of being confined to the passenger seat. He was used to spending hours in the F1 car but traveling always messed him up.

Feeling Pierre slap him on the back, he took that as the cue to start moving. The moment they entered the bar he felt like everyone had their eyes on them, it made Charles feel like this was going to be the worst idea his best friend ever had.

His mind was already spinning, but as he stood there he heard the familiar voice of Crofty commentating coming from the TV above the bar. His stomach twisted into a tight knot, not only were people staring at them but his maiden win at Monza was playing on a large screen situated over the bar. His heart dropped, out of all the places Pierre could pick in this town, he drove them to a bar that was full of race fans. It was only a couple of seconds before everyone turned back to what they were doing without so much as a murmur but to Charles it felt like an entire lifetime had passed as he waited for the look of recognition, expecting his name to echo amongst the patrons, but he got…nothing.

With a breath of relief, he followed his best friend through the room, letting his eyes dart around taking everything in. The first thing that caught his eye was the older guy sitting in the corner, animatedly watching the 2019 race. The man had his gaze glued onto the TV until a young girl clambered up onto his knee, their exchange drifting over the sound of the commentary.

“Nova, are you going to watch the race with me, sweetheart?”

“Poppy, I’m Elenor, silly,” the young girl said, reaching up resting her tiny hand on his cheek. With her gentle correction, he felt intrusive listening in so he turned his attention to the bar. Sliding onto the stool, he took note of all the photos scattered around the bottles on the shelves, whilst waiting for the guy behind the bar to finish what he was doing.

From the look of the outside Charles thought the interior of the bar would be more like a dive bar but he was pleasantly surprised. The place had a cozy yet energetic feeling to it, the walls were covered with family photos, around the whole place there were fairy lights setting the mood and the Harley Davidson decor created a unique contrast. The walls were clad with wood which were paired with deep red booths that were along the back edge of the room and the fairy and neon lights provided a very cozy rustic feel to the place.

It felt like they had stepped into a completely different building, the inside seems a lot bigger than the outside, square tables were scattered around with worn leather chairs surrounding them. For some reason the look of the old leath brought a small smile to Charles’ face.

“What can I get for you lads?” The bartender asked, his thick Scottish accent taking them by surprise.

“Just two beers please man,” Charles nodded, “and do you guys serve food?”

“Aye, gimme two secs and I will get you the menu,” he hummed as he grabbed two bottles from the fridge behind him, “you lads in town long?”

Charles quickly glanced at Pierre before turning back to the bartender, “how do you know we are from out of town?” he asked but instantly regretted asking the question when he quickly realized that the guy sounded completely different to him and Pierre and from some of the conversations that were happening around the boys. The guy didn’t say anything instead shot him an amused look whilst raising his brow at the two boys.

The look made him realize that this was going to be a long month, not only was there amusement written all over his face but it was one that tol Charles he knew exactly who they were. In that moment Charles knew they wouldn't go as unnoticed as they had anticipated. All he wanted was for them to be treated like any other patron and maybe if that happened they could get through the summer break without any major trouble.

“Four weeks,” Pierre chuckled, taking his beer with a smile, “just waiting to be able to check into the lodge.”

The guy had a knowing smirk on his face, like he knew who they were. Charles couldn’t be one hundred percent certain but that was confirmed to him with the next sentence that came from the bartender’s lips, “enjoying the summer break, eh?” he smiled at them both.

“It’s only just started,” Pierre laughed, raising his beer bottle slightly, “but we’re hoping for a nice quiet time, from what I’ve heard this is the best place to relax and recharge”

Out of the corner of Charles’ eye he spotted a photo behind the bar, instantly he couldn’t help but smile. The photo was of a small girl in the arms of what he presumed was her mother. Both of them were wearing Ferrari shirts and hats whilst standing on a track. At this point he had started to come to terms with everyone more than likely knew who they were, especially with the race playing on the TV and photo he couldn’t tear his eyes from. Worry started to settle in but the one thing that calmed him down was the face no one had approached them yet. In fact apart from the bartender they had been pretty much ignored, so maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as he first anticipated.

Just as the bartender passed them the menus for the food, the doors to the bar swung open, slamming against the wall causing the guy behind the bar to scoff.

“He can see the celebrations starting. He’s got one more corner, the famous parabolica to go. Mercedes threw everything at him today, Charles Leclerc has coped brilliantly!” a female voice shouted across the bar causing both Charles and Pierre to spin around on the stool to see what was happening. He felt his heart rate increase, feeling panic wash over him at the fact someone had just entered the bar reciting Cofty’s commentary word for word.

He focused his gaze on the two people that just walked in were covered in mud without a care in the world. “He won in Spa, he wins in Monza!” she continued, throwing her arms in the air whilst quoting the commentary perfectly in time with the TV as she turned to face the guy she walked in with. “Charles Leclerc is the winner of the 2019 Italian Grand Prix.”

Turning to Pierre, Charles shot him a look letting him know that they weren’t going to keep a low profile.

“That’s it, get mud all over the floor!” the barman huffed at the women with a grin on his face.

“It’s just a bit of mud, get a prospect to mop, Chibs,” the woman said with sass dripping from her words, never turning around as she spoke but Charles could hear the smirk in her voice.

Out of nowhere the small girl that was sitting in the corner booth came running over to the pair standing in the doorway. The woman who was quoting the commentary caught the small girl just in time. “Well she is definitely not afraid of mud,” she laughed, looking over her shoulder to the blonde guy behind her, before she dropped her gaze to the young girl in her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before speaking to her. “Come on then you little monster, let’s go get you changed, Auntie Nova needs a shower.”

He quickly realized that these were the two people in the photo behind the bar, he automatically assumed they were mother and daughter but the moment the little girl called her Auntie he felt a wave of relief wash over him.

He found himself sitting there sipping the bottle of beer feeling extremely confused as to why he would feel such an emotion over a woman he had never met before but in the same way he felt like he had met this woman before.

It was official he was starting to lose it, maybe the first half of the season had taken more of a toll on him than he first thought. First the feeling he got when they arrived in town and now towards the women covered head to toe in mud. But for whatever reason he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the pair, watching them interacting like they didn’t have a care in the world. The moment the woman smeared a little mud on the little girl’s nose the bar was filled with the sound of the most adorable giggles Charles had ever heard.

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @celestialams @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @inesramoss30 @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

#Charles Leclerc #Charles Leclerc x oc #Charles Leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc imagine #sons of anarchy #jax teller #jax teller x reader #Jax teller x sister #Jax teller x sister oc #jax teller imagine #till the wheels fall off

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starflungwaddledee · 1 month

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What Starstruck Dee theory have people made that is your favourite?

there have been quite a lot, and i genuinely love them all!

early on i think the most popular theory was that she was possessed or had been possessed at some point, most likely by dark matter. she actually debunked this theory personally, but i think people just assumed she was lying! 😂

my favourite part is not any one theory, but watching a shift in thoughts over time as more things are revealed, and seeing people share theories/work together in comments and reblogs. i like the "OOHHH WWWWHAT...!?!" moments a lot; whether they are a reaction to my storytelling or to other folks' detective work!

early theories revolved around how she was weird for a waddle dee, or at least a native of popstar. despite my never explicitly confirming anything to the contrary, theories have now broadly shifted to assuming she is not from popstar at all, and most people do now generally agree she's not really a waddle dee.

i don't recall exactly who first came up with each theory (though some big players are @the-void-is-a-disappointment who did a huge amount of early deetective work and encouraged me to build it as a story for solving, @shibuya-toasted-with-extra-cream, @graycoin and @jojo-schmo) and i'm not sure which of these theories are still held by anyone

but here a few of my favourites, roughly in order that they started appearing...

♻️ she's a total mimic species like kirby or void, copying things around her either by intent or by accident 🗑️ similar to above, but she's an incorrect copy or a "beta" mock-up type of a waddle dee 🧚 that she was just born different, like a fae changeling, and might have been hidden away when young as a result 🕰️ she is something totally inorganic and/or mechanical, created by or like the clockwork stars or stardream, perhaps wish contingent 🥇 sometimes attached to the above, she was created to serve some sort of Greater Purpose. she might have failed at it or been flawed, and was subsequently discarded on popstar 🌠 a dozen and one wildly different things connected to the "falling star that hit her". alien life form on the meteor transferred into her on impact. infection by intergalactic bacteria/dark matter. simply massive concussive trauma that fucked up her signature (back when we thought that was the only thing wrong with her). the star was magic and fused with her. she hatched from it and is literally a star herself. probably missing some here. 🪐 waddle dee from a different place/planet. this one is quite a sensible theory, given that we do see many quite different dees! 🤍 she is a fragmented piece of void/void termina. this one in particular i know is @shibuya-toasted-with-extra-cream 's ongoing theory and she's put in a lot of really cool work towards it! ⚔️ she's somehow connected to the heroes of yore. this theory i think has only started popping up since galacta knight has become a reoccurring visitor in her storyline and we've started asking questions about her familiar looking magic spears, but you can certainly 1hko @moonverc3x with this one 🧿 she's connected to the matters. sometimes soul, because it's sometimes star themed and lacks a token representative. where as a connection to dream might link her to fecto forgo/fecto elfilis in some way (a creature also well known for a catastrophic meteor attack). i've also seen folks confident that she's connected to heart matter as well, probably again due to everyone's favourite grumpy swan showing up

this is all i can think of or locate right now, but there's been a pretty wide range of things. i feel there has been a rather interesting transition over time from "she's a messed up waddle dee" to "she's probably connected to a universal superpower of some kind" which i am genuinely really really thrilled about?! 😂 what a glow up for a pathetic little wawa!!!

i'm also personally really fond of seeing how people's existing biases influence what they can find and draw connections in. for instance: i know @jojo-schmo loves the forgotten land and elfilis, and digs into those connections and draws out some really cool stuff because her knowledge is already so specialised! i think this is the true highlight of working on this story for me, people theorising and engaging in the lore, and laser pin-pointing things that tie into our personal faves-- the way we tend to do with kirby lore as a whole-- is such uninhibited delight

i sincerely hope people will enjoy where starstruck's story does go, in the end!!

#starstruck dee #asks #🎀🔍#i will say that more than one of these theories holds water! some of them more than others.#some of them are indeed dredging the ocean.#i will actually say one thing regarding one of the meteor theories...... “she hatched from it and is literally a star”#<- this WAS actually her Very First original concept when she was “Just A Sona”. she was a literal unalive star who watched everybody--#having fun on popstar and wished to be alive to join them and feel joy & love. this is a very personal narrative to me and appears lots in-#my sonas and works. it's a fairly simple and basic backstory that would have required no further development or held no real mystery!#once i realised she was developing beyond sona-exclusive status and i was purposefully building a ~mystery~ it changed.#so it's no longer her backstory or relevant in any way; and it hasn't been since before most deetective work has been happening.#just thought y'all might enjoy it as a little bit of Deep Hidden Lore!#sorry also for pinging many folks in this wall of text; if i knew i was referencing a theory of yours i wanted to credit you is all #please just lmk if you'd like me to remove your url at any time!! as always i'm so grateful to everyone who likes starstruck or weighs in!#this kind of engagement is so new and exciting to me and it means more than i can say. i hope i can weave a fun story for you!!

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weaselle · 6 months

Text

okay, so like three or four years ago i wrote a post about mashed potatoes, and, while i wouldn't say anything as crass as "it's doing numbers" i feel safe in saying it at least did A number

which ticks up in little batches throughout the year and then for a few weeks every autumn it gets like, idk, several thousand more notes.

and i read a lot of those notes, the ones that include words: comments and tags and reblog additions.

I read them because a lot of them are like "tried this and it was delicious i'm making all my potatoes this way from now on" or whatever (even though i did a terrible job of explaining parts of it) and especially on days when i don't have a lot else going on for me, i really like reading a few new notes like that and knowing that i have recently contributed to someone's small moment of goodness.

BUT

i also read the other ones. I don't take any of them personally, it's just opinions, and a few folks proving i did a terrible job explaining a couple bits. And it's not bad like the internet can get bad, you know, it's mostly like, "ew gross why would you make them all goopy and gross" which is whatever, it's potatoes.

THE POINT IS

i have read what thousands of people have had to say about mashed potatoes, some of which is barely about potatoes, some of which is whole recipes, and everything in between. i have studied at the table of potatoes done mashed.

and i have a couple of conclusions

for instance, as far as i can tell some people love fluffy potatoes with all their heart and some people hate dry potatoes with all their soul and if you are one you probably can't be the other, and so there are opposite qualities being looked for in defining what makes good mashed potatoes.

Because the flavor is pretty much always good: it's potato flavored, plus whatever delicious shit you personally like to add to potato flavor.

but the experience of mashed potatoes. THAT is where the secret lies. How it feels in your mouth. And why we can mostly agree on what good mashed potatoes are, which is sort of halfway between fluffy and creamy, but we can never all agree on what the BEST mashed potatoes are, because its like asking what the best shade of blue is.

#potatoes #potato #mashed potatoes #my life #it's either my highest or second highest notes post #people have potato opinions

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jorisjurgen · 4 months

Text

World of Twelve dashboard simulator

🎆 halfalight follow

I think if I get knocked out while solo'ing dungeons oen more time local eniripsas will just euthanise me 😭 iop save me

🫂 shards-of-glass-in-the-bar follow

we all have that homie who's not gonna make it.

🎆 halfalight follow

You run an anti-recovery alcoholism blog tho ???

🫂 shards-of-glass-in-the-bar follow

way to be classphobic dipshit.

🐙 podapoda-2-3 follow

Idk i feel like posting about losing your home bc of it isn't very successful and happy pandawa of you.

🤹 mysteryrystery follow

Anyone in this thread smoke hemp

(1,275 notes)

🌌 somethingquietplace

Like a sworn knight, I serve you. You are my beating heart, my lifeline. Neither Bonta nor Astrub would be home, if you were not by my side...

Yet, why do my hands yearn for freedom, the way a butcher yearns for a wild animal?

🌛 quartziwindy follow

Are you ok op.

🕸️ osamodas-loves-spiders follow

isnt op that one guy with 50 side blogs who got accused of being a part of the bontarian royalty and classfaking being an ecaflip.

🌌 somethingquietplace

Do you swear on your heart that you can truly believe a person with a life and a career would post on this site.

#Mind your buisiness. #not osu

(12,643 notes)

🥧 amakna-news-official follow

does anyone know if the demigod goultard is still out there marrying people//...

i n;;eed h;im.

🍄 124-lancer-lancer follow

When you die and go to externam not even being hosed down will help clean your soul. You will not reincarnate for 999 years.

🆎 alphabetcounter follow

e: 13; n: 11; o: 11; l: 7; a: 6; r: 6; i: 5; t: 5; u: 4; d: 4; 9: 3; h: 3; y: 4; s: 3; w: 4; g: 2; c: 2; x: 1; m: 1; v: 1; b: 1; p: 1; f: 1

(489 notes)

🌌 somethingquietplace

Went on a fishing trip with my family.

Here are some photos I took there, including photos of the snappers the three of us caught. Sufokia is beautiful this time of the year.

　　　　　　　　Keep reading

🌌 somethingquietplace

I'll delete this reblog a bit later for organization purposes, but I wanted to take this moment to thank you all for your comments.

Also, I did not know that there was a fishing community here, for all the decades I spent on this site. The more you know.

#It's nice to get back in the groove of things... #Such a hectic year. #I just need some peace and quiet. #And maybe then I'll feel better. #Though sometimes I do ask why I keep doing this. Just everything in general. #...A hot chocolate will fix me right up though. Always does. #Delete later

(201 notes)

🔰 noobdefencesquad follow

I know most ppl are like..,, 100% over talking about that one fuckin xelor that reversed time for like 20 minutes. like yeah hes evil but he saved my whole life. i spilled coffee on my passport and then WHOOM time reversed and shit. and i woke up 20 minutes earlier, threw up, and decided not to go anywhere near my documents with liquids ever again.

can i get a wahoo for grandpa genocide. like he really fucked up but he did do a solid one to at least me. i just feel like enough years had passed for me to speak my truth

🌒 ten-o-cock-and-a-half follow

It's not a laughing matter, people died. And it was a yet another case of media representing xelors as crazy and evil.

Try to put yourself in the mindset of the victims.

🔰 noobdefencesquad follow

im a xelor too and i think this is fucking hilarious soo yeah.

try reincarnating into a different class in next life! hope this helps.

🌛 quartziwindy follow

I agree with the second rb, but is nobody going to mention their url??

(1,274 notes)

👾 pixiiiii-piratika follow

I know we all have our role models for adventurers we'd like to marry or become or steal the gender of or whatever, but idk it haunts me that some of them may be on this site. Imagine someone like master Eva reading what ppl had written about her or her husband. scary.

🎁 doggrillsougi follow

I hope ush galash can feel when i post about sending him psionic shadow assassins. i hope he fucking feels pain. Every single time.

🎶 foggy-has-no-spoons follow

what did a random bontarian noble do to you. also isn't he dead.

🎁 doggrillsougi follow

OK SO. this made me realize that most people genuinely don't know about the murder dungeon allegations.

To summ it up, he lured in people to rob his house, put them in The Murder Dungeon (actually a tower, but... rule of funny. it sounds funnier that way), and Bontarian government did NOTHING about for years, and even placed a statue in his honor despite that.

wo2ww.bontanews.bn/articles/ush-galesh-allegations-of....

Now, this might sound like a conspiracy theory, but most of us in the demigod drama community know that Ecaflip demigods just... fake their deaths a lot. So there's a very big chance he's still out there. He's fucking out there.

And I want him to know, that I am sending psionic brain warriors to him. And to the king too.

THE ONLY reason this turned into a thing everyone knows is due to an anonymous leaker from within the palace. I fucking hate this kingdom.

🌹 theflowerofsadida follow

The city of good, btw

yet another reason i am a proud brakmarian despite not liking djaul LOL

🐙 podapoda-2-3 follow

WHAT????? HE HAD A WHAT ..

👾 pixiiiii-piratika follow

oh god what happened to my post.

🌛 quartziwindy follow

there are like, theories on who leaked it btw, considering a bunch of diplomats had access to the documents. Though I won't point any fingers towards anyone in the palace in particular. 👀

if it would keep him doing this, I could kiss that guy who did this, on the lips, I would. or like, give him a pizzlarva.

fr fr.

🌌 somethingquietplace

It's every Bontarian's civil duty to try and make the city a little bit better. I think these motivations are both unneeded and unwanted.

Though the pizzlarva bit is funny.

👾 pixiiiii-piratika follow

arent you that one guy with whos been here for like 20 years and got accused of being a part of the bontarian royalty and classfaking being an ecaflip.

did you do this tumblr user somethingquietplace. did you.

🌌 somethingquietplace

I'm running a combination OSU, photography, and fishing blog where I post poorly written poetry at 4AM.

Please stop with the "you're never beating the allegations" jokes.

#not osu

(85,024 notes)

#wakfu #dofus #krosmoz #this is cringe #but i had fun writing this #mymemes #there are only 2 canonical wakfu characters who would be on tumblr and only one of them is here. sorry.#you can guess who it is.

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mvrtaiswriting · 2 years

Note

Hi! For the kiss event, can we get prompt 4 for either Mihawk or Zoro?

Zoro x prompt 4: speaking normally, then after the kiss their voice is hoarse

of course you can and aaah! thanks for requesting this!!! we all know now that I write better when it comes to emotionally unavailable men and mihawk was the perfect victim hehe. I absolutely adore this piece of writing and hope you will too! do let me know what you think ♡

gender neutral! sfw.

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.- from this event.

Getting Mihawk to open up about anything was probably the hardest challenge you had to endure since you decided to train with him. He was always so avoidant, so detached, so cold. He agreed to let you stay with him cause he recognised your talent and potential, but never complimented you once - not explicitly, at least.

After a year of intensive training, spending hours together, the two of you somehow grew a lot closer than you expected at first. He didn't despise you, and that was a big accomplishment - he kept his stoic attitudes around you, but he was never rude. He did over-exaggerated sometimes during training sessions, teasing you and pushing all of your buttons to exert an emotional response from you; and he always did, he was good at it. Mihawk could see right through you, as if your soul and deepest feelings were an open book to him. He flipped with the pages and rewrote some of them, instilling new fears and gifting new sensations every time.

"These." he said once, catching a teardrop from your eye with the tip of his sword. "these will get you killed." he continued, wiping your tear away and leaving you alone, in the middle of the battle field.

He didn't mean any harm, really - he was only brutal cause he cared, although that definitely wasn't the best way to show it. It was only after you snapped back at him and won against him for the first time, that he finally opened up to you. After that tremendous afternoon, he started to tell you more about him, sometimes narrating some of his adventures, others sharing his political views with you. This was his way to show you that he truly cared; he never let anyone get this close to him.

So now, during one of your usual evening chats, you were sitting next to him on the sofa. He held his wine glass in his hands, sometimes moving it swiftly to get mix his wine and get the best taste out of hit.

"This is definitely the worst generation." he said, keeping his composure.

You nodded in response, as you kept looking at him - he was hypnotising. The way he gesticulated, his controversial yet so interesting takes on everything. Putting your glass on the coffee table in front of you, you leaned back on the sofa and started to listen to him again. Your gaze slowly shifted to his lips, appreciating how his beard gracefully framed his face. Mihawk instinctively stretched an arm toward you to fix a rebellious strand of hair that was now covering your face, never losing focus on what he was saying.

"I think it's time to go to bed." he concluded, causing you to frown. You were exhausted from the earlier training, but you could have stayed there for hours. You nodded, leaning towards him and leaving a soft, uncertain kiss on his lips just before he could say something else.

Mihawk reciprocated your kiss timidly, a brief act of intimacy that lasted just enough before you embarrassedly pulled away.

Visibly blushing, Mihawk cleared his throats trying to act as if nothing happened. "Goodnight, y/n." he said, his voice sounding hoarser and deeper than normal as a new, warm emotion made its way into his heart.

#mihawk icons #mihawk fluff #mihawk x y/n #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece fanart #one piece fanfiction #one piece fic #one piece x oc #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #straw hat zoro #zoro x reader

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dissociatingdumbass · 28 days

Note

Hi! I'm so nervous to send this ask cuz I can't hide behind anon but I'ma be brave for 60 seconds and hopefully this doesn't come off rude& rambling (if so feel free to ignore all this, no pressure to reply!)

So, I was reading the tags of a post you reblogged (something about being 34 with an AO3 account being cringe or whatever) and you say you're 48? Like 48 years old? Or I'm misunderstanding? Either way my first thought was, I agree with the comment implying that 30+ adults are a large part of what keeps fandoms alive, and my second thought was holy crap! I didn't know I actually followed someone in fandom who is older than me. Maybe that's silly bc I follow soooo many people, there's no way we're all the same age, right, like duh but I just got really excited about it. It felt like an "ah ha!" moment, like the difference between knowing something like a fact you read in a book yrs ago and knowing something from living through it (if that makes sense 🫠) and I just wanted to say Hi! I'm glad you're here (you and all the older members of fandom, honestly) I'm relieved actually, and maybe that's weird and silly, too, but idk knowing you're here really helped me connect with reality a bit better. Sometimes I feel like everyone in fandom is like 19 and younger and i guess the craziness in the world & fandom combined has made me feel like I'm doing something very strange at my big age enjoying fandom where it seems like only teenagers are. This isn't shade at teenagers though, I was a teen in fandom at some point but I guess I unknowingly was convinced that after 20 these things are like kids toys and sure you can keep them but if you aren't an ~established adult~ you don't have time for fan things or at least should be quiet in those spaces bc it's like creepy otherwise??? Idk idk idk🫣 I'm rambling and this is too long, the point is Hi! If I'm misunderstanding your age, my apologies, honestly; still, this has been a much needed reality check for me and I'm so very glad you're here!! (Also you're blog is like super cool)

Hi!

I am indeed 48 years old!

I haven't been active in fandom for long because in my country (Portugal) Fandoms weren't a thing...

At least not that I was aware growing up.

I've always had my little stories in my head and I had two cousins with which I'd "trade off" daydreams and story ideas... But nothing more.

My actual contact with internet and social media was only after 2003. A whole 7 years after I was married.

By then I had already allowed my dreams to be smothered... By my ex... By society... By myself...

It took me getting a divorce in 2012 to get into Fandom as a way of escaping my own feelings of failure and inadequacy.

And you know who helped me find the courage to write?

My older son. 16 at the time...

Fandom is for everyone.

For the older generation that built it and love it.

For the younger generation being introduced to it, finding community in it, finding themselves in it...

I welcome everyone into this little corner of my world on Tumblr... I'll be here if you need me. I'll be just here, in the background when you don't.

But I'll be here.

And you know what? Don't be ashamed of loving what you love. There's no age in which you should give up on your dreams, passions and hobbies...

.... Not even your plushies and toys!

Live first and foremost for yourself. Find the joy in the little things and never allow others to shame you for your passions.

Don't let anyone kill the Childlike Wonder inside you.

I'm 48...

I write fanfic and I'm a mother.

I have a bedroom filled with Fandom stuff and I have a full time job.

I have multitudes inside my heart and soul. Just like you. Just like everyone out there.

Don't let anyone take that away from you... Ever.

#ageism in social media is a plague...#we all have the ability to dream #fandom is for all of us #fandom is supposed to be a community

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fairy-writes · 2 years

Note

HEY FAIRY!!! I’m so excited about your event!!! Could you write me a Roland Fortis one shot with the song This Side of Paradise by Coyote Theory?? Please???

-🪐

THIS SIDE OF PARADISE

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Requester: Anonymous

Fandom(s): The Case Study of Vanitas/Vanitas no Carte

Pairing(s): Roland Fortis x Gender Neutral!Vampire!Reader

Song: This Side Of Paradise by Coyote Theory

Genre: Fluff, mild angst at the end

HELLO AGAIN, SATURN LOVELY (or at least I hope it’s you, lmao, or else this is really embarrassing)

__________________________________________________________________________

Meeting Roland Fortis for the first time was less than desirable—mostly because he was trying to kill you.

The young man in front of you was broad-shouldered and well-built, like ridiculously well-built. He was your age with curly blond hair and his eyes a vibrant green. He held a ridiculous-looking weapon, but despite the absurdity of it, you had seen what it had done to your comrades.

Perhaps comrade was too kind a word. But it didn’t matter. They were still dead.

“You are a magnificent fighter!” The man crowed as you dodged yet another attack by his whip-like spearheads. You had no weapons, only your fists, and feet to punch and kick with. Yet, even without a weapon, you were doing relatively well for yourself, landing a few hits on the man.

But that didn’t explain why your ears were burning, and your heart was racing.

What was wrong with you?

You bumped into the young man again a few weeks later in town. Quite literally. He ran straight into you while you were looking at your grocery list. Your already purchased groceries went everywhere, apples and oranges rolling away as you looked up, ready to curse the poor soul who dared knock into you.

But your words died in your throat as soon as you saw those emerald green eyes again.

Was he here to finish the job? If so, why was he smiling a smile that made your stomach do jumping jacks, and your heart beat faster?

“It’s you again!” He exclaimed, and you swallowed nervously but didn’t say anything. His smile turned into a frown. He tilted his head. He looked like an adorable puppy.

No! Don’t get sucked into those eyes! Don’t fall for that charm!

“Can you not speak?” He asked innocently, and you nodded,

“Of course, I can. I’m just trying to think of what to say that won’t get me killed.” Now he looked hurt.

“I’m not going to kill you!” He exclaimed. You started to panic. People were beginning to look. You had to get him to stop. You had to get him to shut up.

He was still talking,

“I met a vampire who was actually quite pleasant! He helped change my views on your kind and—”

“If I agree to talk to you, will you quiet down?” You cut him off. There was that brilliant smile again, that smile that made your heart race.

Were you in love?

No! That couldn’t be! You couldn’t have a crush on a Chasseur!

“Of course!” He exclaimed and enthusiastically helped you up. He even helped gather what you could salvage of your fallen groceries.

The café you both sat at was quiet and nearly empty—the perfect place to talk. The waitress had seated you both in a corner booth, and after ordering coffee for the both of you, the young man looked at you, hands cradling his head with that smile of his making your belly do flips.

“My name is Roland Fortis! What’s yours?” He chirped happily. You answered much more quietly than him.

The conversation went from there, Roland asking innocent enough questions while you answered and sipped your coffee.

It was… nice.

Ask me why my heart's inside my throat

I've never been in love. I've been alone

Feel like I've been living life asleep

Love so strong it makes me feel so weak

You kept running into Roland after that. He always seemed so excited to see you, that smile of his making your ears burn and your heart race. Then, finally, it appeared after a while that you could consider him a friend.

One day, it all changed.

“I have a question for you.” He tittered, and you looked up from the crêpe you were eating. It had powdered sugar and strawberries, and chocolate syrup. It was delicious. You hummed absentmindedly as he seemingly hesitated. Why worry about what he was going to say when you could enjoy your tasty food right here?

“Will you go on a date with me?” You inhaled a bite right then and there and began to choke. You coughed and hit your chest in an attempt to dislodge the piece. Roland slid over next to you, prepared to do anything if you began to go unconscious. Eventually, however, you managed to swallow your bite and save yourself from certain death.

“Pardon?” You asked hoarsely. Roland shrugged,

“Will you go on a date with me?” He asked again. You narrowed your eyes. Was he joking? He had to be. Why would he want to go on a date with someone like you?

However, you found yourself accepting.

(Are you lonely?)

Our fingers dancing when they meet

You seem so lonely

(Are you lonely?)

I'll be the only dream you seek

So if you're lonely, no need to show me

If you're lonely, come be lonely with me

The date itself was nothing special. Just a picnic that Roland had put together himself. Somehow he had discovered all your favorite foods and managed to cook them himself. He said he got help from a ‘friend’ named Olivier. Though from his description of the man, you figured Roland had dragged him into helping.

The entire date was… nice. It was quite lovely actually. Roland made you laugh. He made you embarrassed. He made you… happy.

Which is why you didn’t object when he slowly held your gloved hand—it was cold out, snow was falling softly—then interlaced your fingers in his own gloved hand as he walked you home. He had insisted, claiming that he would protect you from any harm or danger.

You had to remind him that you were a vampire and could take care of yourself, thank you very much. He simply shrugged with that handsome smile of his.

Lonely (Are you lonely?)

Passion is crashing as we speak.

You seem so lonely

(Are you lonely?)

You're the ground my feet won't reach

So if you're lonely, Darling, you're glowing

If you're lonely, come be lonely with me

Roland kissed you on your fourth date.

He had taken you out to a nice restaurant and made you laugh again with a corny joke he had heard from his vampire friend Noé. Then, as he walked you home, he held your hand again, squeezing every once in a while as if reassuring himself that you were there.

He stood on your doorstep, laughing at something you said when you looked down at your hands, a bashful smile on your face. You watched as he reached forward and cradled your hands in his, and looked up. He looked both nervous and serious at the same time, eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to find the words to express what he wanted to say.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, and your brain stalled before your ears started burning furiously. You didn’t say anything but found yourself nodding slowly. Your eyelashes fluttered as you closed your eyes and your lips parted slightly.

It seemed like a lifetime before his lips met yours, and you gasped. He took it slow, never taking more than you gave him. He tasted like the wine you had both had at dinner and was as soft as moonlight.

Underneath the pale moonlight

Dreaming of a circus life

Carousels and Ferris heights

I'll be yours if you'll be mine

The first time you drank blood from Roland was when you were on the verge of death. A vampire with a corrupted name had attacked you, ripping a hole in your belly and drinking your blood until it had been killed by none other than Roland. He dropped his weapon—a makeshift sword made out of a lead pipe—and ran to your side, cradling your head in his lap.

He called your name, begging you to stay with him and to stay awake. You tried, but your eyelids were so heavy. It couldn’t hurt to take a nap, right?

Right as you closed your eyes, you tasted something. It was delicious.

To a regular person, other humans don’t smell like much. Not unless they were wearing perfume or cologne. But to a dying vampire… The iron, salt, blood, and juice running through fat vessels and muscles were far more tempting than anything ever produced by humans.

Roland smelled like sweat and tears, with a faint whiff of blood from the scratch on his cheek. Perhaps there was a hint of bitterness and the scent of his cologne that you had purchased for him.

Cause I'm lonely, I'm so lonely.

If you hold me, I'll be your only

(Are you lonely?)

Our fingers dancing when they meet

You seem so lonely

(Are you lonely?)

I'll be the only dream you seek

So if you're lonely, no need to show me

If you're lonely, come be lonely with me

Your eyes shot open. He had cut his wrist with a fallen shard of glass and was holding it up to your mouth, a pleading tone to his voice as he spoke.

“Drink. Heal. Please. I can’t lose you!” He begged, and your instincts took over. Your bloody hands clutched at his hand and wrist as you drank greedily from him. You drank and drank and drank until you felt your gruesome wounds start to stitch back together. Blood vessels and muscles knit back together bit by bit until you were whole again.

Roland pulled you up and held you close, burying his nose in the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“Don’t scare me like that again. I love you too much to lose you.” He said softly, and your heart shattered at the wavering tone in his voice. You wrapped your arms around him and held him close,

“I’m not going anywhere.” You promised.

Are you lonely?

Passion is crashing as we speak.

You seem so lonely

You're the ground my feet won't reach

So if you're lonely

Darling, you're glowing

If you're lonely, come be lonely with me

#the case study of vanitas #vanitas no carte #vnc #vnc roland #roland fortis #roland fortis x reader #roland x reader #vanitas roland #the case study of vanitas roland #vanitas no carte roland #the case study of vanitas x reader #case study of vanitas #vanitas no carte x reader #fairytailwzard 700 followers #fairy writes

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