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#no but it was nice I met some really nice people there
adriennebarnes · 2 days
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Meet The Family
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Charles decided it was a good idea to meet Y/N’s parents before his next Grand Prix, and it turned into meeting the entire extended family.
Warning: bad writing, spelling and grammatical errors, Spanish
A/N: this is the first time we have an established relationship between Charles and Y/N, yay! Their meet cute is inspired by how Billy and Camila met in the show Daisy Jones and The Six
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Y/N met Charles at the supermarket in Monaco. Charles was in the produce aisle when someone came behind him.
“Hi, excuse me, can you…?” Y/N started and Charles turned around.
“Sign something for you? Um, I don’t have a pen, do you have one?” Charles asked.
“Uh, I was going to ask if you could move over so I could get some spinach. Or if you could grab the spinach for me, either way, I just need spinach.” Y/N said. Charles felt embarrassed and handed Y/N the spinach. “Thank you.”
“Sorry, but you don’t know who I am?” Charles asked.
“Should I? I’m not from here.” Y/N said.
“I could tell by the American accent. I’m Charles Leclerc.” Charles put his hand out and Y/N shook it.
“Y/N L/N. So tell me, Charles Leclerc, why should I be asking for you to sign something?” Y/N asked teasingly.
“Sorry about that, I swear I am not conceited, it’s just a lot of people in Monaco know me for what I do and I’m always approached with things to sign.” Charles said.
“Okay, and what do you do?” Y/N asked.
“I’m a formula 1 Scuderia Ferrari race car driver.” Charles said. Him and Y/N started walking around the supermarket together, not wanting to block anyone.
“Ooh wow, a race car driver, that’s pretty big. I’m not really into sports in that way. I could bump into a New York Yankee back home and not even know it.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled. “So tell me why are you here at the supermarket? I assume you would have a private chef that takes care of all the cooking and grocery shopping.” Y/N said.
“You would think that, but I mainly have to cook for myself. I am on a strict diet so I have to buy whatever Andrea tells me I should buy.” Charles commented.
“Who’s Andrea?” Y/N asked.
“My personal trainer.” Charles said.
“Makes sense, you are a high performance athlete after all. I gotta continue my shopping, but it was nice meeting you.” Y/N was going to walk away when Charles held on to her wrist gently.
“Before you leave, how about you give me your number. I could invite you to a race and make a formula 1 fan out of you.” Charles suggested.
“Wow, has that line ever worked?” Y/N asked.
“You tell me, this is the first time I’m using it.” Charles said. Y/N smiled, very flattered that the good looking monegasque wants her number.
“It’s working, i think it’s because of your eyes, maybe a little because of your dimples, but mainly that accent.” Y/N says, Charles gives Y/N his phones and she added her number.
“Remember that you’re the one with the accent in Monaco.” Charles said. Y/N gave him his phone back and Charles checked the contact information. “Let me take a photo of you for your contact.” Charles said, Y/N nodded and pose for the photo. “Beautiful, I’ll text you later.” Charles said and Y/N waved goodbye before heading to a different part of the supermarket to get what she needed.
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Now it’s 6 months later, Y/N is definitely a Formula 1 fan, always rooting for Ferrari, but she’s also rooting for Checo and McLaren. Y/N was in her apartment cooking when she heard the door open and it was Charles with his luggage.
“Muñeco, did you come here from the airport? I thought you were going to come back tomorrow.” Y/N said, approaching him to kiss his cheek and help him inside.
“I was, but I have a surprise for you. You know how you said you’ve been missing your parents?” Charles asked.
“And New York in general, but continue,” Y/N said.
“Well i have arranged for us to go to New York and I can meet your parents.” Charles said and Y/N stayed silent. “You don’t like the surprise, chéri?” Charles asked sadly.
“No no no, it’s not that, it’s just…I never told my parents I had a boyfriend.” Y/N admitted as she walked back to the kitchen to continue cooking.
“What? They don’t know about us?” Charles asked. “How do they not know about us?”
“Well they don’t follow me on social media, obviously, and I don’t really call them often because if the time difference.” Y/N said, stirring the pot of pasta.
“Are you sure you miss your parents?” Charles teased and Y/N hit his shoulder playfully.
“I do, i miss my mom’s cooking, you have no idea how much I miss my mom’s lomo saltado. It sucks that your strict diet doesn’t allow you to eat some of the more delicious meals from my culture.” Y/N said,
“You and food. You think you can call them today and tell them about me?” Charles asked.
“Once it hits like 4pm over there, I’ll call. My parents should be home by 3 but I want them to chill a little before I bombard them with a monegasque boyfriend.” Y/N said.
“Would it be a FaceTime call or a regular phone call? Should I be with you when you tell them? I am so nervous.” Charles admitted.
“You’ve had other girlfriends before.” Y/N said.
“Yes, but I already knew their parents one way or another, do you know how small Monaco is?” Charles asked.
“I’m aware. I’ll call them and let you know when to come in and say hello.” Y/N said.
“Sounds good. I’ll stay and eat with you. I’ll stay until our flight to New York.” Charles said.
“When is our flight?” Y/N asked.
“In 3 days.” Charles said.
“Okay, that gives me enough time to pack. Are we flying private?” Y/N asked.
“Oh darling, of course we are.” Charles said.
After eating, they were watching a movie and Y/N checked the time, it was 10pm, it was 4pm in New York.
“Hey muñeco, Im gonna call my mom, okay.” Y/N said. Charles nodded, moving away from her on the couch. Y/N FaceTimed her mom, waiting a few second until she picked up.
“Mi niña, y este milagro? Por qué me estás llamando? Pasó algo malo?” My girl, and this miracle? Why are you calling me? Did something bad happened? Y/N’s mom, Elena, asked worriedly.
“Ay Mami, no pasó nada malo, te lo juro. Papi está contigo?” Oh mom, nothing bad happened, i swear. Is dad with you? Y/N asked.
“Eh sí, permítame un segundo. Enrique! Ven, tu hija nos está llamando!” Uh yeah, give me a second. Come, your daughter is calling us! Elena yelled and Enrique came into frame.
“Hija, cómo estás? Que milagro que nos estás llamado.” How are you? It’s a miracle you’re calling us Enrique said, Y/N rolled her eyes.
“Sí lo sé, es un milagro, pero les estoy llamando porque tengo noticias. Tengo novio.” Yeah, I know, it’s a miracle, but I’m calling you because I have news. I have a boyfriend Y/N said.
“Mira eso, otro milagro.” Elena said. “Y cómo se llama, que hace?” Look at that, another miracle. What’s his name, what does he do?
“Eh, pues aquí está. Charles, come introduce yourself.” Oh well, he’s here Y/N turned her phone so Charles is in frame.
“Eh hola, me llamo Charles Leclerc.” Charles leaned into Y/N’s ear and whispered “they speak English, right?”
“Yes, we speak English, Chuck.” Enrique said.
“Its Charles.” Charles corrects.
“Bueno Charles, what do you do?” Enrique asked.
“I am a formula one driver for Scuderia Ferrari.” Charles said.
“Anyway, les llamé para decirles que vamos a visitarlos en unos días. Así puedes conocer a mi novio mejor, él de verdad quiere conocerlos, no sabes lo emocionado que estaba cuando me dijo sobre el viaje.” I called to tell you guys that we will be visiting you for a few days. Like that you could get to know my boyfriend better, he really wants to meet you, you don’t know how excited he was when he told me about the trip. Y/N said.
“Está bien, vamos a preparar tu cuarto para que pueden venir, adiós, mi niña.” Alright, we’ll set up your room so you can come over, bye. Elena said and she hung up.
“They hate me, don’t they.” Charles said.
“You are the first boyfriend I ever told them about. You are my first boyfriend so it’s normal.” Y/N said.
“You have no idea how much I love being your first.” Charles kissed her. “Do you think I’ll be able to win over your parents?”
“I think you will, what’s not to love about you? Beside the fact that you don’t put on sunscreen.” Y/N said
“Ha ha, mon ange. I have a good feeling about this trip, it’ll be fun to see where you grew up.” Charles said.
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Charles and Y/N we’re on the plane to New York.
“Do you think your parents would like these gifts? I’m having second thoughts.” Charles said.
“Muñeco, please calm down. My mom has always wanted a Dior bag and I’m sure my dad would appreciate that Rolex you got him.” Y/N said.
“Maybe I should have got him a Richard Mille, it would be like a statement, ‘i make enough money for your daughter to never work again’, I think all parents want that for their daughter,” Charles said.
“Well they also don’t want me to depend on a man so the Rolex is perfect. A little bit about my parents, my mom, Elena, is a housekeeper, my dad, Enrique, is a City worker, he’s an electrical engineer. My mom loves handbags, she has a whole collection which we usually get from the outlet mall. Both my parents grew up ‘poor’ back in their countries, but it’s all good now, they’re working class people. My dad is really into cars so maybe you could talk to him about that.” Y/N said. Charles was typing on his phone. “Are you taking notes?” Y/N giggled.
“Yes! I’ve never been this nervous before,” Charles confessed.
“Relax, muñeco, they are going to love you.” Y/N kissed him, hoping he would relax. Charles pulled Y/N onto his lap and they stayed like that for the rest of their flight.
Charles got a rental car from the airport, he chose an Audi, and drove to her parents’ place.
“You couldn’t have picked a cheaper car?” Y/N asked.
“Compared to what I drive, mon ange, this is the cheapest car I could have rented.” Charles said, parking the car.
“Nope, I’m parking, get out.” Y/N said, taking her seatbelt off.
“My parking is getting better.” Charles said, getting out of the car.
“It’s still not good, muñeco.” Y/N said. She got into the driver seat and parked the car, she got out of the car. “Can you get our bags, cariño?” Y/N asked. Charles kissed her before opening the trunk to get their bags. They made it up the stairs and knocked on the door. The door opened to reveal Elena.
“Ay, mi niña, It’s si good to see you again. Come in, come in, leave your stuff, we were just leaving.” Elena said, moving to the side, Y/N and Charles walked into the house.
“What? What do you mean you were just leaving?” Y/N asked. Charles left their luggage in the living room and sat on the couch while Y/N and Elena talked in the entrance.
“It’s Saturday, princesa, your Tia Hilda is having a carne asada to celebrate her son graduating high school.” Elena said.
“But mom, can you please get to know him first before we go? We are always early and I know you hate helping Tia Hilda with the decorations.” Y/N said.
“Tienes razón. So Charles, tell me about yourself. Enrique!” Elena said, walking into the living room, sitting on a chair opposite of the couch. Y/N sat beside Charles.
“Well i am 26 years old.” Charles started.
“Really? Y/N here is only 21.” Elena said. Enrique walked in and sat on the other chair.
“Yes, I know Mrs. L/N, but we have a lot in common and I believe we are good for each other.” Charles said, holding Y/N’s hand.
“Interesting. When you were dating Giada and Charlotte…” Enrique started.
“Papi!” Y/N exclaimed, surprised that her dad would look up Charles’s dating history.
“Did you say the same thing to their parents?” Enrique finished.
“With all due respect, sir, each relationship is different, those relationships were in different points of my life. I don’t see myself breaking up with Y/N any time soon. For right now, she is what I need in my life, she understands me, comforts me, she feels like home. I guarantee that anything Y/N has wanted I have to her, but she doesn’t depend on me for anything. De verdad amo su hija y espero que nos podemos llevar bien.” I truly love your daughter and I hope that we could get along Charles said. “My teammate and friend is Spanish so I learned a little. I learned more when I started dating Y/N.” Y/N looks at him with heart eyes, she is so in love with him.
“You seem like a good guy, it was really big of you to come all the way to New York to meet us.” Enrique said,
“Thank you, I actually have gifts for you.” Charles said, opening the luggage to pull out the Rolex to give to Enrique and the Dior bag for Elena,
“Oh it is beautiful, thank you, Charles. Now let’s go to the carne asada, Y/N, tell him how to get there, we’ll see you in a few.” Elena said, putting the bag away while Enrique puts on the watch. Y/N’s parents left the house and Y/N starts looking for her house keys.
“Found them, let’s go.” Y/N said, they left the house and locked the door,
“Mon ange, I barely survived meeting your parents, do you really think I can meet your entire family?” Charles asked, they started walking to the car.
“I believe in you, oh and you can’t say you’re on a diet, that’s offensive.” Y/N said, getting into the car.
“What?” Charles asked as he got in the car.
“You’re gonna have to eat what they’re serving, I’m sorry, you’re eating rice, grilled steak, chicken, ribs, hamburgers, hot dogs, shrimp if we’re lucky, you’re break your diet today.” Y/N said.
“Ugh, Andrea is going to kill me.” Charles started the car and followed Y/N’s direction to the house.
“Yay we made it, I wonder if Christina is here.” Y/N said, getting out of the car after she parked it.
“Who’s Christina?” Charles asked,
“My cousin. Well, my mom’s friend’s daughter, I call her my cousin.” Y/N said. She opened the gate to enter through the backyard,
“You just open the gate?” Charles asked, closing the gate behind him.
“Yes.” Y/N said looking at him, she then saw some cousins and aunts and uncles. “Hola hola!” Y/N exclaimed.
“Y/N!” The family shouted, all of them getting closer to her for a hug.
“Quien es el güero?” Her Uncle Hernando.
“El güero es mi novio, this is Charles Leclerc.” Y/N said. She heard a scream.
“No way, you’re dating Charles Leclerc, you could have told me.” Her cousin said,
“Charles, this is Christina, my cousin, he’s an F1 fan.” Y/N introduced them,
“It’s nice to meet you, Christina.” Charles said, shaking her hand,
“Oh my gosh, I am such a huge fan. When Lewis becomes your teammate, can you bring him over? Like Can that happen?” Christina asked.
“Maybe, I’ll ask the next time we plan on coming to New York,” Charles said.
“Yes! I made picarones, we’re supposed to have them later but I guess I can make an exception for il predestinato.” Christina said, leaving them to get a picaron.
“You’re gonna like it, it’s so good, she better bring me one.” Y/N said, a few moments later, Christina came with the picarón. Charles took a bite,
“Mm, it’s delicious.” Charles said, moving the picarón to Y/N so she could get a bite.
“Mm, best batch yet, Chris,” Y/N said,
“Thank you, I’ve been practicing,” Christina said.
“Everyone, it’s time to eat!” Archie, Hilda’s husband.
“Okay so don’t serve yourself the sauce, please don’t, okay?” Y/N said,
“Why not?” Charles asked, sitting at the table,
“Because it’s spicy.” Y/N said.
“I like spicy food, chéri.” Charles said.
“This is Mexican spicy, not white people spicy.” Y/N said.
“I think I can handle it, I’m gonna have some rice and shrimp off the grill.” Charles said, getting up to get a plate and serve himself some Mexican rice, grilled shrimp, and added salsa on the shrimp. He sat down and took a bite of the shrimp. “Hm, it good.” Charles started coughing and fanning his tongue. Y/N stifled her laugh while standing up to get a beer from the cooler. She opened the bottle and gave it to Charles who’s eyes were tearing up.
“Are you okay, muñeco?” Y/N asked.
“Why is it so spicy?” Charles asked.
“I think Monica was angry when making it.” Uncle Eduardo said. Monica hit his shoulder.
“I wasn’t angry.” Monica said, taking a chip to dip in the sauce. “This is good, I don’t know what y’all are talking about,” Monica said.
“So Charles, you drive for Scuderia Ferrari? You must be away a lot.” Archie said.
“Yeah, I’m away a lot, but Y/N comes with me to some of the races when she can.” Charles said, sipping the beer.
“Yes, the Suzuka Grand Prix was great, loved walking around Japan, was so much fun.” Y/N said, eating food.
“That’s good, that’s good.” Archie said.
“Yeah, and next weekend we will be in Spain.” Charles commented.
“You think you’ll win?” Mauricio, a cousin, asked.
“I hope I win, but it’s more than certain that Max will be in P1.” Charles admitted.
When they were finished eating, Charles played soccer with Y/N’s younger cousins, letting the younger cousins win.
“He’s really good with kids.” Christian told Y/N.
“You’ve seen all those posts about him with kids, it’s no surprise.” Y/N said.
“You seem really happy with him.” Christina commented.
“I am. I was worried about him meeting everyone, but I think it turned out better than I imagined,” Y/N said, watching the little kids tackling Charles to the ground and he’s just laughing.
The carne asada ended and Charles and Y/N were in the car.
“I think your family likes me. I’ve been invited over for Christmas.” Charles said and Y/N laughed.
“You think your mom would be okay with you spending Christmas in New York?” Y/N asked.
“Well she could come with us, and Arthur, Lorenzo, Charlotte, I want our families to meet each other.” Charles said.
“All in due time, muñeco.” Y/N said.
“I like when you call me muñeco.” Charles said, kissing Y/N.
“Okay, muñeco, let’s go, my parents are probably waiting for us.” Y/N said, Charles kissed her one more time before driving home.
The End
Hope y’all liked it! Comments are appreciated, let me know if you want to be tagged in future one shots
Tag: @prettypink11
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cheriladycl01 · 2 days
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Could you do SMAU for Toto Wolff with wife reader where she is a huge bookworm and he always so supportive about her passion And the Internet has gone crazy about it. Thanks :))
Bookstagram - Toto Wolff x BookwormWife! Reader
Plot: Taking a look through your bookstagram and how supportive Toto Wolff is of your love for reading. Encouraging you to pursue your dream of writing.
Credit to multibabydoll for the GIF
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You loved reading and books. Before you met Toto, you used to be a bookseller and then worked for a publishing house. You actually met Toto because of the influx in Motorsport Romance's that made your company send you to a race to get some ... hands on experience and you ended up having your own sort of Motorsport Romance with a Team Principle.
You ended up marrying Toto and at first it was hard, but when COVID came and you ended up working from home since then so coming to the races had been much easier.
y/user
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Liked by lucyscore laurenroberts and mercedesamgf1
y/user: My reads of the month! Really loved both of these and I can’t wait for book to from Lauren!
Book 1: Things We Hide From The Light by Lucy Score
Book 2: Powerless by Lauren Roberts
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lucyscore: I’m glad you enjoyed this one!
-> y/user: it’s really good!
fan1: i love these!
toto.wolff: Is this the book you were reading on the plane?
-> y/user: Yes, the other one I read at the race track!
laurenroberts: babe! I’m glad you enjoyed! Come to a book signing and I’ll get you a proof of Powerful!
-> y/user: no stop! I’d love that!
DM’s
laurenroberts: Hey Babe, got an event on 29th November, in Florida. You want to come as my special guest?
y/n: id love that! Thank you so much for the invite! I’ll just need to talk to my husband. I’ve never travelled solo and I’m a nervous traveller!
laurenroberts: That’s fine! Just let me know as and when babe!
“Babe, can we talk for a second” you asked your husband as you walk into the kitchen where he is sat with his morning coffee.
"Yes honey what is it?" he asks looking over at you, pushing a glass of orange juice towards you.
"Well, one of the authors that I really like invited me to a book signing.."
"Oh that's amazing sweetheart. Are you going to go?" he says checking his emails not fully paying attention.
"Well, thats the thing. It's over a race weekend... and" you start but his head bolts up to interrupt you.
"You better not be asking for my permission for if you can go, you know you don't have to ask!" he says almost as though he's offended you with think that of him!
"No, no of course not. But I'm scared to go alone, you know how I am!" you explain and he nods remembering the last time you guys flew.
"Well, how about I buy you a nice first class ticket and make the experience worth it. I'll pay for a fancy hotel and a spa evening for when you land ... how does that sound" he grins pulling you into him kissing your forehead.
"You don't have to do that for me!" you exclaim feeling bad!
"Ah no honey, I do this all for you!" he smiles pulling you in for a full kiss.
y/user
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Liked by stephaniegarber and ashleyposton
y/n: What do you guys prefer, Romance or Fantasy. I love finding quiet corners at the race track!
Tagged 8 People
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stephaniegarber: Did you enjoy it?
-> y/user: It was so good! I moved straight onto Legend! And Toto brought me OUABH!
ashleyposton: I see those outlines! Thank you for your review on goodreads!
olivia_blake: ahhhh, i hope you enjoy it!
fan1: Y/N is definielty a motorsport romance girlie considering she literally lived one!
->fan2: i forget about this!
"Baby, you have to stop packing so many books!" Toto laughs as he gets out his card to pay the extra bagging expense where your bags had ended up being overweight.
"I'm so so sorry! I didn't realize how many I'd take back with me, American Books are so much more floppy than the ones at home... even though I prefer our covers!" she answers, going to get her card out.
"I'll pay baby don't be silly!" Toto laughs tapping his card as air port staff come over and help you guys take the bags away.
"You are my little book worm aren't you!" he grins pinching your cheeks like an older lady.
"Stop!" you say swatting his hand away.
y/user
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Liked by toto.wolff and others
y/n: Toto helped me rebuild my book nook AND took me out for a book haul! It's up on my YouTube now!
Link
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sarahjmaas: looks amazing!
toto.wolff: I'm happy to help baby!
-> y/user: BEST HUSBAND.
You and Toto had spend the day putting up the swinging chair, and making the room cozy with fairy lights.
He had started to organize your shelves in colour coordination order making a rainbow. You felt so bad when your need to have them in genre and alphabetical order took over.
"Baby, as incredible as this looks, I'm never going to find any books!" you argued and he looks and pulled out Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros.
"See I found you current smutty dragon book!" he smiles handing it to you and your eyes widen at the lingo he was using.
"Have you been... watching my videos?" you ask in shock.
"Mmmm yes honey. i find them very amusing!" he admits and you just stare at him in shock.
y/user
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Liked by lewishamilton and toto.wolff
y/n: He looks like this so that I can look like this …
I LOVE MY HUSBAND
Tagged One Person
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fan1: shes so unserious ... lmao
fan2: and you look fab!
You were thankful that Toto worked as hard as he did, he treated you all the time and you treated him in return.
Your husband was so supportive and was without a doubt the best thing that had ever happened to you.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v
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godslino · 2 days
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IN BLOOM | jisung first date series. second chance lovers.
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pairing: jisung x fem!reader word count: 13.2k genre: childhood friends au, angst, fluff, songwriter!jisung, florist!reader warnings: swearing, minor character death, grief/loss (nothing to do with any of the members!) summary: it's february. the tulips are in bloom. jisung is back.
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chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡
a/n: *taps mic* hello?? is this thing on?? oh good. yes. hi. hello! it's been a while, as most of you can tell. thank you all SO MUCH for sticking around. if you've been reading my asks you'll know that march and april were rough months for me personally. shout out to my anons and mutuals who kept my spirits high and made my days brighter. uhhh, this was originally supposed to be a stand alone fic but i figured hey, what the hell, and made it into jisung's first date chapter. it's pretty heavy stuff. lots of feelings, lots of love. i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it! again, thank you so much for waiting for me. i'll be back soon with more updates! all the love <3
also thank you kenzie for being such a light during all of this. i hope all my screaming in your messages was worth it!
“All of these had to be pulled.” Hyunjin huffs, dropping a few crates just past the doorway. 
“Again?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stare at yet another wasted supply. “I don’t understand, they sold so well last year.”
Hyunjin gives you a sad smile. “It’ll pick up eventually, don’t worry. I mean the holidays just finished and business usually slows down in the months after anyways.”
He’s being sincere, you know that. But there’s a part of you that also knows it’s a lot more than just the usual ebb and flow of sales. He’s being nice for your sake.
“Maybe we could try coming up with other ideas?” he suggests, because Hyunjin is nothing if not kind. Always willing, always finding a way.
He moves past you to grab a fresh pair of gloves. The ones he’s wearing are dirty, pollen-stained and ripped at the edges. 
“You’ve always been really good at basket arrangements. We could try to make some for Valentine's Day. Different sizes, maybe? The big ones will probably do well for online orders since they’re more optimal for things like office deliveries and stuff like that.”
You hum in approval. “True. I mean, I was kind of worried we would have to skip out on deliveries this year since we don’t have the manpower to handle all of that, but I think Jeongin’s been looking to pick up hours around here again. He said something about his program giving them a month of independent study, so he’ll be home for a bit.” you say, scribbling down a reminder in your notebook. “I could ask him to help with driving the truck in his free time?”
Hyunjin lights up– he always does when Jeongin is mentioned. 
It’s been a lot quieter ever since he left for college. There were so many tears and so many hugs that were met with countless 'you guys are dramatic's in return. But it’s hard to not feel sad when people leave town; when they decide the borders lined with apple trees and rice fields aren’t enough to stop their dreams from blooming into more than what’s capable of being pursued here.
That, unsurprisingly, is something you know all too well.
“Can’t believe he’s driving.” Hyunjin laments as he wipes his floral scissors with a rag. “I used to spend my days changing his diapers and spoon feeding him redbulls– but now? Driving? My baby is all grown up.” he fake sniffles. “By the way, I’m gonna take my fifteen after I’m done snipping these tulips.”
You snort, bending down to take the crates of wilted flowers to the back for disposal. Hyunjin moves to help but you shake him off.
“Sounds good. Also, don’t let Innie hear you say that. I’m about a thousand percent sure he has the strength needed to throw you into the dumpster with one arm now.”
“My baby would never do that to me!” Hyunjin calls out as you round the corner, bumping open the back door with your hip. 
February brings a lot of rain in Jeju. Today is no different; fat drops landing on your head as soon as you stumble out into the alley behind the shop. Footsteps heavy on wet brick, you curse under your breath as you run as fast as you can to the dumpster.
There’s still a few supply boxes from yesterday’s shipment laying around. You meant to bring them in, but you were so exhausted that it slipped your mind while you struggled to make sure everything inside the shop was figured out.
Scrambling, you haul them in one by one, shoes squeaking against the floor as you alternate in and out, soggy cardboard pressed against the front of your apron. 
Hyunjin’s on break. A necessary one at that. You can’t bother him, especially not when he’s done enough by taking on more responsibility both as a physical worker and a newly actualized business partner recently. A few stacks of boxes and wet hair seem like a fair trade off for what he’s had to sacrifice in the past year now.
“Idiot,” you mumble, cursing yourself for carelessness. Your slip ups have been more frequent lately, evident in the way you constantly forget things and can’t seem to push away the haziness clouding your mind. 
If it weren’t for the timing of it all, you’d blame it on the weather. The gloominess. The overcast skies probably have some sort of hand in your lack of clarity. Shrouded.
But it’s February. And in Jeju— it rains.
By the time you make it back inside, you’re drenched. 
“You look like you just got dunked in a pool.” 
You frown, ringing your hair out into the trash bin by the door. It’ll definitely take time to dry off, both your hair and your clothes are soaked through.
Hyunjin watches with an amused look, arms crossed as he leans his back against the counter.
“Might as well have. It’s insane out there.” you sigh. “How was your break?”
You look up to find that his face has gone unreadable.
“Yeah, about that…” Hyunjin trails off, voice suddenly smaller than before.
“Everything okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah it’s just–” Hyunjin chews at his bottom lip.
You push past him into the supply room to switch out your apron just as he says, “Do you mind if I leave a little early today?”
You scoff, turning to face him. “Hwang Hyunjin,” you scold, lips twitching when he visibly startles at your tone, “You don’t have to ask me that. We’re partners now, remember? We run this place.” 
He shifts on his feet, still unsure.
“Besides,” you huff, tying a knot behind your back, “We were friends way before that, too. You don’t have to be all proper with me. Of course you can leave early. It’s slow today, I can take care of it.”
Hyunjin sighs after contemplating for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?” 
When he stares at you for a moment too long, you know the real reason for his hesitation. It makes something twist deep in your gut.
Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.
“Of course.” you shrug, doing your best to seem nonchalant. 
Hyunjin’s ability to read people is kind of intense, a little scary at times. You happen to be one of his favorite subjects in that regard.
“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”
He pales, sputtering around words as he struggles to say something. It’s cute, his plump lips opening and closing, eyes wild.
“I’m not going to see her! I’m–it’s just a movie! How did you—God, you’re so annoying. I should’ve made you trim the tulips. Hah!”
You giggle. “It’s funny that you think I wouldn’t know, especially with the way you love to actually make yourself look busy whenever she stops by to say hi.”
“I am busy.” he mumbles, looking away. “I just emphasize it a lot more when she’s here.”
“Sure,” you roll your eyes, “Let’s go with that.”
He whines a couple more times, trails after you around the shop and laughs when you swat him away with a rolled up newspaper that’s used for wrapping vases.
It’s loud. Easy. Hyunjin is a gentle reminder that normalcy still exists in your day to day, even if it’s hard to find. 
When he finally decides to leave, he lingers for a moment, triple checks that you’ll be okay. You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time today, but deep down you’re grateful. 
“Love you,” he says, one foot out the door. “Call me if you need anything.”
You shake your head, ignoring him. “Love you too.” 
And then he’s gone, a skip in his step as he heads down the sidewalk, leaving you with nothing but freshly-trimmed tulips and the sound of rain. 
“Herb snips, shears, tape…” you mumble, scanning the supply shelf. 
There’s not much to do in-shop right now. Almost all the arrangements have been tended to by Hyunjin already, his specialty being his keen eye. That’s why he handles the appeal of the shop, leaving you to figure out all the logistics. Learning it all was easier said than done.
In reality, it was never your intention to take over the shop at all. 
“When I die,” your grandma would always say, ignoring the way you groaned and begged her to stop bringing it up, “Sell this place. Use the money for something worthwhile. A trip to Greece, maybe?”
“Nana,” you would scold, glaring at her where she stood next to you, trimming a batch of roses.
Wrinkled hands that still held all the skill of youth. Fingers moving at a speed others could only ever dream of having– you included.
Your grandma handled flowers with the same amount of care she did everything else. It’s no wonder that when they grew they would lean in her direction, drawn to her like they would be the sun. 
“I’m not selling this place. It’s too special, too important. A vacation only lasts so long, Nana. This is forever.”
She would smile, turn petals over in her hand. Sometimes the marigolds would match the glow in her eyes, a testament to the belief you harbored as a child that she had the ability to sprout blossoms from her fingertips.
“The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.”
You wish you hadn’t been so hard headed. Wish that you would’ve believed her, taken the time to listen, cherished the moment a little bit longer instead of relying on the promise of tomorrow.
I’m sorry for your loss.
Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.
She’ll be with you in your heart, forever.
Oh, what a lie forever is.
The shop stays empty for the rest of the day. There were a few passersby, all of whom simply stopped to scan the arrangements along the windows before giving a polite nod and carrying on their way. 
Realistically, the shop has no problem with attracting customers. It’s a sight to behold: mid-floor to ceiling windows with various displays, hanging baskets of winding greenery, countless arrangements that fill the shelves and add a pop of color, and a wide assortment of flowers for each season. 
The real issue lies in your inability to sell. Most people regard the place as being good for nothing more than window shopping and the usual photo-op.
Business has slowed since your Grandma passed; since you took over as the sole owner and were suddenly face to face with the task of making decisions in the shop’s best interest– both integrity wise and from a business standpoint.
“I know, I know,” you say around the pen cap between your teeth, “You used to be the brains around here, not me. I’m not creative enough for all of this, you know? No matter how much I try to be.”
You look up from where your notebook lays open, dozens of scribbles for arrangement ideas and planning. The picture on the wall stares at you, unmoving, eyes as bright as marigolds.
“Don’t give me that look.” 
She stares. A gaze that holds all the answers while also saying nothing at all.
“Ugh.” you groan, leaning your palms on the desk.
You allow your head to hang forward, defeated, exhaustion flooding your bones. 
Just as you’re about to speak again, to complain about yet another thing that probably has her rolling around in her grave, the bell at the front counter dings.
The clock on the desk reads 6:55pm, five minutes until close. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in.
“Be right there!” you call out, rushing to grab your apron from where you’d thrown it on one of the chairs. 
In your haste, the box of seed packets you’d been inventorying goes tumbling to the floor.
“Fuck,” you mutter, bending down to pick everything up. One more thing to add to the list today. 
Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted. 
You sniffle a few times, blinking against the sting behind your eyes as you stand up to put the box back in its place.
One deep breath, a shake of your shoulders. Just enough to chase it all away until later. 
“Sorry about that,” you say cheerily, pushing past the hanging beads that separate the front of the shop from the back. “How can I help you?”
There’s a stranger, his back turned, attention focused on a batch of tulips. Freshly cut. White, blue, purple.
You realize, belatedly, that you’d forgotten to grab your apron in your haste to clean up the seed packets. Another slip up. Nana always prided herself in her apron, wore it like a badge of honor, raised you to do the same.
Just as you spin around to grab it, the stranger says, “It’s okay. I just, um, I wanted to say hi.”
You freeze. There’s a long moment where his voice rings loud in your ears, reverberates against the walls of your brain until it travels through your blood, the feeling like wildfire in your veins until it settles deep in the pit of your stomach. 
Slowly, you turn, heart clamoring in your chest, threatening to stop altogether as soon as you come face to face with the one person you never thought you’d see again.
Because there, at the front of the store, is Jisung.
Jisung, with wide eyes and parted lips. Jisung, with hair that still curls at the ends and falls in shags around his face. Jisung, broader, more actualized, now grown into his features but still undeniably soft around the edges. Jisung, with thick framed glasses pushed up his nose and silver hoops dangling from his ears. 
A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung. 
“You look…nice.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand.
Three words is all it takes. Ice turns to fire. The blood that had drained from your face returns with the blaze of a thousand suns, anger burning your throat. 
You reach forward, grab the remote for the neon Open sign and click the power button. Jisung watches in confusion.
“The shop is closed.” you manage on a shaky breath.
Jisung sighs, something heavy. “Listen, I’m—”
“The shop–” you try again, louder, “–is closed.” 
Jisung stares. His eyes are still the same velvety brown; big and round and just as you remember. 
There was once a time where the sight of Jisung in your Grandma’s shop made your heart sing. A soft tune, the thrum of a thousand harps, a song only for him.
His heart-shaped smile as he helped her hammer some of the shelves onto the wall. The sound of his laughter whenever you’d enter a sneezing fit from accidentally rubbing your face with a gloved hand. His rosy cheeks, burnt from the wind whipping past his face as he ran on foot to make sure you were okay the one time an angry customer smashed a vase on the floor and you called him crying.
But now, seeing him here, a stranger in a body you once knew like the back of your hand— it feels wrong. 
“I…” he trails off, registering the way your fists are clenched at your sides. 
“Okay,” he resigns, licking his lips. “I, uh– have a good night.”
He gives you one last look, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and then slips out the door. You watch his retreating figure through the glass panel, dark gray skies muting the sound of your rattling heart.
It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is back.
And in Jeju– it rains.
There’s an apple tree in the middle of town where Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. 
Off the corner, a few minutes down the road from where your houses stand a mere five hundred feet away from one another.
Your grandparents were farmers. Your grandma started her floral business a few years before you were born, a dream she always had that your grandpa urged her to pursue once he decided to sell the animals to a younger, more capable couple that could take care of them. 
Jisung’s parents, new residents on the island, looking to settle down and start a family. 
That’s how it happens. Yours and Jisung’s story, two authors of the same book, destined since the start.
Jisung was born on the same night your mother left you at your grandparents’ doorstep. One note, an apology, is all you’ve ever known about her. Your grandma never cared to indulge you. You’re glad in a way. She provided more than enough love to make sure you never felt an absence in her wake. 
The townspeople used to say you and Jisung were soulmates. Something about the heavens knowing he would need a friend, hence why you were delivered that night. From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable. 
Attached at the hip, you and Jisung grew up together. First steps, first birthdays, firsts for everything under the sun.
Jisung was there in the morning to walk with you to school and he was there at night when the two of you tucked into bed, sleepovers a regular occurrence, both of you counting the pale green stick-on stars dotting his ceiling until you fell asleep. 
Jisung was always around. He held your hand and walked with you to the nurse’s office the first time you got stung by a bee. He wiped your eyes when the boy you liked told you he only ever saw you as a friend, your first rejection. He sat with you under the stars the night your grandpa died, your face tucked into his neck as you stained the collar of his shirt with tears until you were too tired to cry. In the years that followed, he took care of you and your grandma like the two of you were his own. 
Jisung, for lack of a better word, was your first forever.
“You could come with me, you know.” 
Under the stars, real ones that time, Jisung had turned to you and offered the world. 
The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.
“It’ll be fun. We’ll be together, we’ll experience new things. I can do music and you can study all that history stuff you like to learn about. You know, nerdy things.”
“They’re not nerdy things, Ji. Don’t you know everything we have now is because of what’s happened before us?” you’d asked. “Doesn’t it make you wonder? Learning about the past helps us better understand the present, and ultimately the future.”
Jisung had hummed softly, an agreement. “I don’t care about the future, though.” he’d said. “I care about right now. You, me, this.” 
When you turned to look at him, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at you from above as the moon casted a halo around his head. 
“I love you,” he whispered, “And I want you to come with me.”
Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the ambition to make it his own. 
You, with all your hopes stuffed tight into a suitcase and chained to a boulder, thrown into the ocean. Sinking and sinking until it hit the bottom.
“I love you too,” you whispered back.
Images of marigolds flashed behind your eyes when you closed them, a tear rolling down your cheek. Jisung’s mouth was soft when he kissed it away, salt on his lips. Burning. 
“But I can’t.” you choked. 
Under the apple tree, Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. He promised that the distance would be no match for him, that he would traverse oceans to find his way back. He promised forever.
It was February. The tulips were in bloom. Jisung left to pursue his dreams with a guitar on his back and your heart in his hands. Your understanding of forever was shot at point blank. The bullet passed clean through you. 
And in Jeju– it rained.
“I think you should talk to him.”
The sun is out today. Perfect weather for another field harvest. The distributor had called you early in the morning to ask if you’d be willing to accept a drop off even though it’s the weekend. You’d agreed, calling in your most reliable help for the job.
“And I think you’re not helping.” you huff, snipping the head off another hyacinth.
“Agreed,” Hyunjin parrots from beside you, currently in the middle of putting together an arrangement, “This guy sounds like a total dick.”
Chan sighs from behind the two of you, his knees knocking against the legs of the desk when he swivels back and forth in the chair. 
Besides Hyunjin and Jeongin, both of whom moved into town after you’d already graduated, and of course, Jisung– Chan is your oldest friend. 
Chan was also a neighbor of yours. Three years older than you and Jisung, he was the one who acted as a role model for the two of you when growing up. Nowadays he helps his parents run the largest orange grove on the island during the day and DJs one of the clubs in the tourism hub at night. 
“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”
“An asshole.” you finish, smirking when Hyunjin cackles. 
Chan sighs. Again. “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that one.”
“Listen, I know I’ve never met him, but isn’t it weird that he just, like, showed up?” Hyunjin asks, setting down his scissors. You continue trimming the hyacinths, listening halfheartedly.
“I mean, think about it. Dude disappears to pursue music, right? He’s gone for what– three years?”
“Four.” you correct.
“God, even worse.” he grimaces.
“But yeah, okay, four years. And then boom! He just strolls in through the front door without so much as a word during the time he was gone? No letters, no phone calls, not even a damn visit. Nothing! All so he can pop up and go ‘oh, you look nice’? Come on.” he scoffs, crossing his arms.
You wince, caught off guard because you’ve never really heard it phrased as bluntly as Hyunjin put it just then. It’s no surprise that he’s annoyed, having only just heard the full story thirty minutes ago. He’d been shocked, partly because you never told him and also because he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Okay, yes, he was wrong for that. But isn’t part of you even just the least bit curious as to why?” 
You pause mid-snip, mulling Chan’s words over in your head.
The most frustrating part about it all is that you are curious. You wish you weren’t, though. Not when you’ve spent the past four years trying to convince yourself that you don’t need to know what Jisung’s been up to, don’t need to know if he’s been okay since he clearly held no concern for you in that regard anyways.
“What?” you ask when you realize that both boys are staring at you. 
“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”
You shrug. “No, not really.” 
There’s a total of five seconds that pass before Hyunjin is stomping over and hauling Chan up out of his chair, pushing him towards the front door as he protests.
“Out! Out, out, out, we have important business matters to discuss.”
“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”
“We’re taking a rain check!” Hyunjin fights back, shoving him out of the shop before he has a chance to answer. He drops the shade to cover the glass, Chan’s sad figure left alone on the other side.
You gape at him. “What was that for?”
Hyunjin scoffs. “You think you’re convincing? Think again.” 
He hops up on to the counter and gestures for you to do the same. When you do, he pulls you closer, grabs your hand in his, and pushes your head down until it’s resting on his shoulder. 
“Tell me the truth now,” he says, soft. “I know there’s more to it.”
Hyunjin’s warm to the touch. The heat seeps through the fabric of his shirt, igniting the skin of your cheek until you feel like you’re standing too close to the sun. A star. Hyunjin is a light in your tunnel.
“I am curious,” you start, “About him, I mean. I’ve– I don’t know. It’s been so long. I tried to pretend I didn’t care when I saw him, but the minute I looked into his eyes it was like I was eighteen again. Eighteen and happy and looking at someone that I always thought would be there, you know?” 
Hyunjin hums but doesn’t say anything. He squeezes your hand once, a signal to keep going. 
“I’m scared, though. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”
Hyunjin takes a deep breath. “What are you scared of?”
Through the gaps in the beads you can see into your office, the picture of your Grandma hanging on the wall. She stares at you, unblinking. 
“What if he tells me that it’s true?” you ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “What if he says that I was right, that he didn’t care? That he left and didn’t want to call because it no longer mattered to him? That he loves his life there and only came back to clear his own conscience?” 
“Oh honey,” Hyunjin soothes, pulling you into his chest. You hadn’t realized you were crying, that the anger and fear had bubbled over until there were tears falling down your cheeks, wetting the fabric of Hyunjin’s sweater. 
He lets you cry for a while. It’s nothing new; Hyunjin has seen you break down countless times. He’s been there through the worst of it, held your hand even in the aftermath. He’s picked you up off the floor more times than you can count, has grounded you when you felt like the world was gonna open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Salt of the earth, returning you to its core.
Once you’ve quieted into nothing more than shallow breaths and a few scattered hiccups, Hyunjin speaks again.
“Can you be honest with me?”
You nod, the hair stuck to your cheek with tears rubbing against his shoulder. 
“Do you love him?”
It nearly knocks the wind out of you. This concept, so foreign to you now, shoved to the back of your mind to make room for the things that matter most. Hospital visits, labor cuts, wage increases— none of it left any room for love, let alone the thought of someone else. Especially someone as all-consuming as Jisung.
Slowly, you inhale, breath shaking on the exhale. Hyunjin squeezes your hand to remind you that he’s there.
“I don’t think I ever stopped, Hyune.”
The silence stretches thin. The realization is dizzying. Years of suppressed emotions, of telling yourself and everyone around you that it wasn’t a big deal. The sad eyes of the townspeople whenever they’d see you sitting beneath the apple tree. The gentle touch of your grandma’s hand when she’d find you on the front steps alone, staring at the stars. The soft hum of the radio in the shop, set to a playlist of all the songs he’s written, the only reminder that somewhere out there he was doing well.
The final crack in the dam, its water pushing until it gives way.
“Then you owe it to yourself,” Hyunjin says. “You owe it to your heart to get an answer. Free yourself from this pain, love. Don’t let yourself suffer forever.”
Forever. That word again. No matter how many times you’ve tried to escape it, it always comes back.
“It’s gonna hurt.” he sighs, tightening his grip when you sniffle. “It’s gonna hurt so fucking bad, babe. But you can take it. You’ve got people who love you enough to stand in front of you and soften the blow from time to time. But you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
He hops down from the counter and moves to stand in front of you, right between your legs. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he pushes until you’re sitting with your back straight and lifts your chin. 
“You deserve an answer.” he says, with conviction this time. “Okay?”
He lets his thumb swipe beneath your eyes, smiles softly. Unconditional— that’s what he is. Hyunjin burns brighter than any star in your sky, the heat wrapping its arms around you like it’s too scared to let go, to watch you freeze and die out like so many others. 
“I don’t deserve you, though.” you say, laughing wetly when he rolls his eyes.
“Shut up,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug, “You deserve everything and more.”
When Jisung comes into the shop two days later, you’re ready for it. 
Chan had talked to him. No surprise, really, not when he’s been letting him crash in his spare room ever since he figured out that he was holed up in one of the hotels out in the tourism hub. 
If there’s one thing about Chan, it’s that he’d rip the shirt off his back to clothe anyone in need. Housing a friend is nothing, especially when that friend is Jisung.
“I don’t know how much of a consolation this is,” he’d said nervously, watching as you regarded him with an expectant look, “But he’s pretty cut up about you not wanting to see him. Which, I know, is stupid. He is the one who fucked up. But I just– I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this, I guess.”
It’s not a consolation, not really. Knowing that Jisung is struggling is far from anything you want to hear. 
Sure, there’s anger present. Anyone would be stupid to not feel the least bit frustrated with what’s happened. Years lost, time stripped away. But you’ve long since come to terms with it, the anger turning to sadness in the meantime.
“Also, he leaves tomorrow.” Chan smiled sadly. “He really wants to talk to you before then.”
Hyunjin left early again today to give the two of you space. Not before making a show of his own though, threatening to incite violence with his arms that are supposedly ‘shredded’ from years of lifting boxes filled with petunias. 
The shop is slow again, not many sales nor a lot of foot traffic. Usually when the sun is out there’s more to do; people to see, smiles to give. But there’s nothing, just the chirping of birds and the sound of cars rolling by. 
Maybe the world knows that this is what you need. The calm before the storm. 
Five minutes until close. You’ve spent most of the day pacing back and forth. Waiting. Anticipating. 
Chan had said Jisung planned on stopping by, trying again. You’d told him that was okay, and his eyes lit up. Too much hope, maybe, that something might come of this. 
You’re seated in the back office, staring at marigold colored irises when the front door opens. You hear it this time, ears fine tuned, waiting. 
Slowly, you stand, make your way to the front. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you pull back the beaded curtain and Jisung’s figure comes into view. 
He looks the same as he did the other day: curled hair, thick glasses, parted lips. His sweater, fluffy and striped, hangs off of his shoulders in a way that boxes off his tapered waist, one that you know is hidden beneath all the layers. The sleeves are way too long judging by the way it curls over his fingers. 
“Hi.” he breathes out, watching as you step into full view.
You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”
His name feels weird on your tongue. Bitter. It’s been years since you uttered it, forbidding yourself from the luxury out of fear that it would make his absence more real. Talking about him in the past tense always scared you off before you could even get the chance. 
“How– How’ve you been?” he chews on the inside of his lip.
You want to scold him, tell him to stop the habit just like you always would in the past. He’d make a joke then, tell you to kiss him so that he had something else to do instead. You would laugh, feign disgust, but in the back of your mind you’d wanted it more than anything. 
You’d waited for it, the day you could kiss him without warning and melt into his touch as he kissed you back. Another stupid bet on forever; the belief that you had all the time in the world for things to get to that point.
“I’ve been better.” you say, taking a deep breath. “What about you?”
Good, you think. He’s been good. He looks good. He doesn’t need this place.
“Me too.” he says instead. “I’ve been better.”
You don’t know what to say to that. Silence fills the room, heavy on both your chests. The anticipation feels like it might kill you before anything else does. 
“I’m sorry that–”
“Is that all you came here to say?” you cut him off.
“What?” he asks, confused. “No, I– no.”
“What, then? What is it you want to say, Jisung?” your voice is firm. He winces when his name leaves your mouth. “Because, honestly, I’ve waited all this time to hear literally anything from you, and if all that comes out of this is that you’ve ‘been better’ I might actually lose my fucking mind.”
The words tumble out faster than you intend. You can’t help it, not with the way anxiety has been bubbling over in your chest since the moment you woke up this morning. You could barely sleep last night, not when you were playing out every possible scenario in your head, the anticipation of it all making your sheets feel scratchy against your skin and the lumps in your pillow more discernible. 
“No, no, of course I wouldn’t do that.” he says quickly. “It's just that I didn’t know where to start. I don’t know how much you’ll allow me to say, what the boundary is here. I didn’t want to just barge in and demand you listen to me. You don’t owe me that. You don’t owe me anything. Not after what I did.”
What I did, his voice rings loud in your ears. He’s aware of it, of the pain he caused. 
He takes a step forward, and then another, again and again until he’s right up against the front counter, an arm’s length away. 
Your breath catches then, when you see him up close for the first time in four years, see the way he’s grown and changed with your own eyes. 
Stubble dotting his chin, laugh lines around his mouth, the dip and curve of the bow above his lips that you always loved. Brown eyes, soil and stardust. 
“Tell me what your conditions are,” he says quietly, “And I’ll give you every explanation I have.”
The sincerity on his face is blinding. Your stomach twists at the thought of hearing what he has to say, that same fear brewing in the pit of it. You take a deep breath, feel the phantom ghost of a hand squeezing yours and a crescent moon eye smile. 
“I waited four years for you.” you say.
“I know.”
“I trusted that you’d be back. That you would keep in touch during the time you were gone.”
“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”
“You lied to me.”
Jisung tips his head back then. Swallows down a lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly at the ceiling, veins of ivy crawling along the expanse of it.
“I know.”
“So you owe me everything. I deserve that. I deserve answers.”
When he brings his head down to look at you, it’s unreadable. A mix of emotions that you aren’t familiar enough with anymore to decipher. Fear, guilt, sorrow. Hope, too. Maybe.
You stare at him head on, fully letting your eyes meet for the first time in what feels like an eternity. He holds your gaze, unwavering. Determined. The sight makes your heart clench. 
“Okay,” he says after a beat of silence. “Okay. I can do that.”
Despite the ever-growing mountain of things to address, you decide that the first thing you want to hear from Jisung is about his time in Seoul. 
You’re only human, after all.
Best friends from the start– you can’t stop yourself from wondering what life has been like for him. Jisung’s always been good at storytelling, animated in his features and gestures to the point that you’d be rolling around and clutching your stomach from laughter. It’s one of the things you missed the most, just talking and being present in one another’s lives.
The two of you end up at one of the diners down the road. The owners, an elderly couple, coo as soon as they catch sight of you.
“My flower girl,” the old lady, Mrs. Kim, greets.
“Mrs. Kim,” you beam, moving in for a hug. When you pull away, Jisung is behind you, hands clasped behind his back and feet together like he has his tail between his legs.
“Halmeoni,” you say, gesturing at him, “Do you remember Jisungie?” 
His eyes go wide at the nickname, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, avoiding his gaze and instead watching as Mrs. Kim blinks in surprise.
“Oh! Oh my goodness, our Jisungie? Honey! Honey, look, Jisung is here! Oh you crazy boy,” she scolds, rushing forward to hit his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. “Where have you been? It’s been ages!” 
Jisung lets out an oof! as her body slams into him, all of his anxiousness dissolving into laughter as he hugs her back. 
“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?” 
“Me?” she asks, pulling him away to hold at arm’s length, “Nevermind about me! I’m old! How have you been?”
Good, you think again, a mimic of earlier. Jisungs eyes flit over to yours for the smallest of moments before he answers.
“Better,” he says. “I’m doing better.”
Once both Mr. and Mrs. Kim are done doting over the both of you, they seat you by the window.
The island is always beautiful on sunny days: trees swaying, golden rays painting the rooftops in hues of pink and orange, the indigo shimmer of the ocean off in the distance.
“So,” you say, catching Jisung’s attention, “Tell me about Seoul.”
He hums. “It’s busy. Stinks. Lots of people.”
“Dream come true, yeah?” you joke, taking a sip of your water.
Jisung chuckles. “You could say that, I guess.”
“I mean, it was yours.”
“It was.” he sighs, looking down at the table. “I don’t know. It’s nice. I met good people, made even better connections. I live in this one bedroom studio apartment just outside of Itaewon, so I’m close to where all the foreigners hang out. I’ve learned a lot, gained a lot of inspiration for my music.”
You follow along, staring at him intently. His mouth, still heart-shaped, twitches when he catches you in the act.
You clear your throat, glancing away. “Yeah, I’ve– uh, I’ve heard some of your songs.”
He raises his eyebrows, almost like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, I hear them on the radio sometimes.” A lie. “It usually takes me a second to realize that it’s you.” Another lie. “But they’re good, you’re doing well.”
Pink dusts the tops of Jisung’s cheeks as he turns back to the window, clearing his throat.
He looks younger like this, like he’s still the same boy who would sit across from you all those years ago. Cherry-stained lips and a smile so bright it put the sun to shame.
He talks a bit more about his music, about how he’s with a good company that gives him creative freedom and enough support to pursue more if he desires.
His eyes light up when he tells you about his studio, a small room on the fifth floor of a building in the middle of the city where he does all of his writing. It’s equipped with an entire soundboard, full of instruments that he says he’s been able to get signed by artists that come in and out. Most notably, his guitar, the same one he left with. 
Slowly, like a flower blossoming, petals opening one by one, you feel yourself falling back into step with him.
Everything is so familiar: the curve of his smile, the tilt in his voice when he gets excited, the rumble of laughter when he recounts an embarrassing run-in with an A-list celebrity in the company’s cafeteria. He shares stories that fill your heart as the two of you fill your stomachs.
But with the ease comes something more, something you recognize as longing. You hadn’t realized how much you longed to be there through this part of his life, how you wished you’d been the one to answer a video call as he showed off his apartment the first day he moved in, his company badge when it was newly issued, every moment of happiness that you’d been absent for just as much as he was absent for yours.
He seems to share the same sentiment then, when he sets down his fork and stares at his empty plate. 
“You run the shop now,” he says, “How’s that been?”
You purse your lips, nodding your head slowly. You knew this conversation would happen, that it was coming.
“It’s good, I guess. Been almost a year now since, uh, it was left to me.” you shrug. “I’m not alone though, Hyunjin is a big help. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Jisung noticeably bristles. Eyebrows pulled together, staring more intently at a crumb on his plate. It looks like there’s a lot he wants to say, like he can’t find the words to say them.
So, naturally, you do it for him. 
“I assume Chan told you so I wouldn’t have to, by the way.”
He looks up then, as if he wasn’t expecting you to address the very obvious elephant in the room.
“He did, yes.” Jisung says after a while. His voice is quiet, gentle, like he’s walking on eggshells. “I– I didn’t know how to bring it up. I assume you’ve heard it all already but– I really, really am sorry to hear about Nana.”
The way her name sounds coming out of his mouth turns your mind to static.
Suddenly you’re in the hospital again, monitors beeping, hands as soft as petals cradled in your own and wishing that you could bury your face in a familiar neck as you cried and watched the marigolds wilt. 
“I don’t need an apology for that.” you croak, blinking back tears. Jisung is somewhere in your periphery, your vision blurry around the edges.
“It wasn’t sad. Her life, I mean. It was full. Of love. Of light. She left this place happy. That’s what she told me, at least.”
You take a deep breath. “So don’t be sorry about it.”
Jisung sniffles, and the sound shoots straight through your chest. 
“I know. I just– I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been. I had no idea that–”
“Nobody did, Jisung. Don’t punish yourself for that.”
He sees it then, when you finally meet his eyes, the acceptance. You’ve come to terms with things a long time ago, have fought tooth and nail to come out on the other side of all the guilt and resentment and grief alive. Scathed, but alive nonetheless.
“You’re right.” he sighs, wiping at his eyes quickly. “She’d probably yell at me for saying that.”
You laugh, suddenly, the noise startling him. Jisung looks at you like you’re crazy.
“I think she has a lot more to yell at you for than being sorry that she died.”
The bluntness punches a chuckle out of him, and you giggle at the thought.
Your grandmother was always such an outspoken person. She always said what was on her mind, speaking it loud. There’s no doubt that if she was here she’d be berating Jisung, smacking him upside the head before pulling him into a hug and cooking his favorite meal. Tough love, but still, love.
“She would’ve loved to be able to see you.” you say once your laughter dies out, the air a bit lighter between the two of you. “She always wondered if you’d grow your hair out without her around to nag you about keeping it short.” 
He reaches up to run a hand through his curls, the strands falling around his face in a way that has your heart stammering in your chest.
“Well, clearly I don’t know how to listen.”
“No, you don’t.”
Jisung smiles softly. “Maybe I’ll cut it now. You know, since I’m here. And because I know she’d want me to.”
You watch him carefully, searching his eyes. For what, you don’t know. All that’s in them are stars. 
“Yeah,” you say quietly. “You’re here.”
By the time the two of you leave the diner, stomachs full and enough bags of extra side dishes hanging off of your arms to last you at least two weeks, courtesy of Mrs. Kim, the sun is almost fully set. 
The ocean is calm, the evening breeze just barely brushing the surface of the tide. Jisung walks in step with you down the street, one side of his face cast in a glow from the sun’s fading rays. 
“Do you think you’d maybe want to stop by the arcade that Old Man Park runs? Just for a little?”
You snort. “Why? So I can embarrass you?”
“Hey!” he puts a hand on his chest, offended. “I’ll have you know that I let you win all those times.”
“How do you let someone win after spending hours practicing while I worked at the shop?”
“I was being nice!”
“Uh huh.”
“Don’t believe me?” he grins. You try not to look, afraid of how bad your blood pressure might spike from the sight. 
“I’ll have you know that I’m one of the best Kart Rider players in the PC Bang scene back in Seoul.”
“Jisung,” you scold, “That’s a computer game. These are coin-ops. There’s way more skill needed.”
“No there isn’t!”
He knocks his shoulder against yours, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his smile when you try to fight back.
It’s easy. Nice. There’s a soft melody echoing in the dust-covered chambers of your heart. You still know all the chords.
Old Man Park’s arcade is a few doors down from the shop. You stop there to drop off the food, spare a glance in the mirror hanging in your office to fix your hair.
Your grandma’s picture stares at you from the other wall, eyes bright.
“Love you,” you say, kissing the skin of your fingertips and pressing it gently against the frame.
Jisung is toeing at a few rocks on the sidewalk when you walk back out. He doesn’t see you, too busy with his eyes casted down at the concrete, hands shoved into his pockets. 
It’s still hard to believe that he’s here. Flesh and bone. For a long time it felt like he was nothing but a distant dream, someone who only existed in the memories that you kept locked deep within your heart, the key somewhere on the streets of Seoul.
“Ready?” you ask.
He looks up, his glasses moving when his cheeks round into a smile.
Something passes across his face– a myriad of emotions in just a fraction of a second. Hesitantly, he holds out his hand. Long, delicate fingers.
You stare at it, swallowing roughly around the butterfly wings flapping inside your throat. 
The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.
Forever isn’t promised. But even then, there are things you know for sure:
It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is here. Living, breathing, in the flesh. 
So you take his hand, watch as relief floods his features, and let yourself feel.
The wind in your hair, the calluses on Jisung’s palms, and the warmth radiating out of the smile that threatens to split his face into two.
And with that certainty, the two of you start walking. A silent agreement to focus on the now.
You. Him. This.
“God, I can’t believe everything is only one coin.”
You laugh, watching as the multi-colored lights cast a glow on Jisung’s face. 
“Stop acting like you don’t remember this place.”
“I don’t!” he argues, smiling. “We stopped coming here, what, in middle school? Once Chan hyung started driving? We would always ask him to take us to the other one out in the big town!”
Chan’s first car was an old Camry with leather seats and enough room for the three of you to pile into after school. Used, but still with enough juice to satisfy three young kids who felt like they were on top of the world.
You used to sit in the back, the wind whipping your hair every which way while yours and Jisung’s hands lay side by side in the middle seat, pinkies brushing but neither of you willing to take it further. 
“Oh, shit!” Jisung gasps, letting go of your hand as he runs up to the space invaders machine. 
“Here we go,” you sigh, following after him. He’s like a kid in a candy store, face filled with innocent wonder and joy.
“Aren’t there, like, I don’t know– things better than this in Seoul?” you ask as he shoves a coin into the game.
Jisung turns to look at you with a devilish grin. “Obviously,” he says, “But I can’t beat anyone’s high score over there. Here though? Ha! This place is ancient. I can finally be at the top of the leaderboard in something.”
“We’ll see about that.” you mumble, the noise of the game booting up drowning you out. 
Jisung sticks his tongue out when he focuses really hard on things. It’s cute, the way the end of it sits between his lips, spit-slick and parted just a little bit.
He’s glowing, probably because of the lights, hues of red and green and blue flashing across his face. But then again, Jisung has always shined brighter than anything. 
The game beeps to signal that he has one life left. He grunts a few times, his fingers tapping the buttons madly as his other hand handles the joystick in a frenzy of movements.
When it ends, he groans, throws his hands up in defeat.. 
You shake your own head knowingly, watching his eyes bug out of their sockets as soon as the leaderboard appears on the screen, the 8-bit letters blinking at him. 
“You’re joking.” he laughs in disbelief, turning to stare at you. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 
There, on the screen, is your name. The highest score. Jeongin and Hyunjin’s names sit just below you, respectively.
“What was that again about finally being able to be at the top?” you mock him, smirking.
“Since when did you get good at this?”
You shrug. “Had to find something to do in my free time.”
“No,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Nuh-uh. No way. This is not happening. I will beat you.” he holds out his hand for another coin, to which you roll your eyes and place one in his palm. 
“You might as well give up now. We’ll be here all night.”
“In your dreams.” he scoffs, assuming his position as another round loads onto the screen.  
Jisung has always been competitive. It’s one of his more hidden characteristics. 
It persists still, you realize, as you watch him burn through the styrofoam cup of coins that Old Man Park had given the two of you. Free of charge for old time’s sake.
Fort-five minutes. All he’s managed to do is bump Hyunjin down to fourth.
“Ugh!” he groans, kicking the machine lightly with his foot. 
“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”
“I’m not throwing a tantrum.” he pouts. You raise an eyebrow.
“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.” 
“Thought so.”
“Can you blame me?” he asks. “This is, like, our first date. And I’m sucking. Hard.”
“Our–” you stop, eyes wide. Jisung mimics you, almost like he didn’t mean to say what he did. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks. Your mind goes blank. But the world doesn’t end. Time keeps moving. Jisung is still here.
“I didn’t–”
“I like the sound of that.” you say quickly. “Of this being our first date, I mean.’
He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.
“And the fact that you suck.”
The moment is shattered, his resulting whine echoing throughout the arcade.
“Come on you big baby,” you laugh, grabbing his hand. “I know a game you can beat me at.”
He lets himself be pulled, pretending that he’s upset, but you can see the smile tugging at his lips when you lace your fingers together.
The feeling is still new, this ease you have with him. The wounds you sported all those years are still healing, some more fresh than others. But with each laugh that comes out of Jisung’s mouth and shared glance, every note that your heart sings, you can feel them beginning to fade. A balm to soothe the burn.
The Pac-Man game is situated in the back corner of the arcade, right next to the jukebox. It used to be your favorite, because Jisung would always use his own coins to play songs for you while you tried to score higher than twenty-five thousand points. 
When you get there, he frowns. “The only game you think I can beat you at is Pac-Man?” 
“I don’t think,” you say, grabbing a coin before shoving the cup into his chest. “I know.”
The game boots up instantly, and you smile softly to yourself when Jisung moves wordlessly behind you, slips a coin into the jukebox.
“Play something good, Jisungie.”
He freezes. Out of the corner of your eye you watch him stare at you for a long moment. And then he smiles. Stardust.
“You got it.”
In a matter of seconds, Lovers In A Dangerous Time by Bruce Cockburn rings throughout the arcade, the speakers on the ceiling fighting past the static.
An old song. The same one your grandparents would dance to in the mornings, eggs on the stove and love in the air.
Your grandma used to say it was written for them, because when they fell in love the war was at its peak and she didn’t know if he’d ever come home. 
After he passed, she still played it, except those times it was Jisung who twirled her around and painted a smile on her face as you watched from the same spot you grew up in. Always there.
Jisung, Jisung, Jisung. 
When the game starts, you try your best. It’s hard. You’ve always been terrible at anything involving quick decisions. Focusing on everything at once isn’t easy for you, that much is still true. 
“Shit.” you mumble, the top right corner of the screen reading ten thousand points as the ghosts run into you.
Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”
“You wanna go back to space invaders and waste the last of our money?” you raise an eyebrow. 
He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.” he says, holding the cup out for you to take another coin. 
You try a couple more times, failing each and every one. You can tell that Jisung is growing more and more amused with every attempt, and the smugness radiating off of him is starting to rub you the wrong way.
“If you’re so good,” you say after a particularly sad attempt, turning to glare at him. Jisung has his lips pulled tight to stop himself from laughing. “Then why don’t you try?”
He chuckles then. “I’d rather help you, if you’ll let me.”
“How are you supposed to do that? We only have one coin left.”
Jisung doesn’t say anything. He puts the cup down, the last coin held between his fingers. You watch as he slips it into the machine, move to get out of his way once he’s done, but he stops you by grabbing your hand and spinning you back around, his fingers placed over yours on the joystick. 
With your back flush against his front, caged in by his arms on either side, Jisung takes a deep breath.
“This okay?” he asks right next to your ear, the curls on the side of his head brushing your cheek when he leans down to get a better look at the screen.
Warm. He’s so warm. The material of his sweater only worsens the heat, and the faint scent of vanilla makes your head swim.
It’s more than okay. Great, even. It’s Jisung. Everything and more.
“Yeah,” you say, letting him control your hands as he flicks the joystick. “It’s okay.”
The hair against your cheek moves when he smiles. “Good.” he says, and then hits the start button.
The game begins but you’re barely processing what’s happening, too aware of the feeling of his body pressed against yours. 
A firm chest, different from what’s observable on the outside, what with the fluffiness of his sweater and soft features. His arms too, encasing you, the bulge and flex of his biceps every time he moves.
It’s all so intoxicating, so much so that you don’t even realize you’ve beaten the highest score in the system by the time he loses his last life. 
“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”
You laugh, spinning to face Jisung who’s grinning from ear to ear. In your excitement, you jump, flinging your arms around his neck. He’s surprised, but catches you nonetheless, circling his arms around your waist.
“Holy shit how’d you do that!” you squeal while he swings you around, feet off the ground.
���Magic, I guess.” he chuckles. 
The closeness of his voice brings you crashing back down, suddenly aware of what position you’re both in. You pull back quickly, clear your throat, and watch as his face falls from the loss of contact.
It’s been a long time since you hugged Jisung. The thought transports you to that day four years ago, standing under the apple tree, the future uncertain. Forever promised.
Things are different now.
“Sorry,” he backtracks. “I didn’t– um, I wasn’t trying to–”
You cut him off by throwing yourself at him for a second time. Intentional. Breathless. Tired of running and acting like it’s not the thing you want most in the entire world.
Jisung doesn’t react until he feels your face against the skin of his neck. On instinct, he hugs tight, hands around your waist, breathing in the smell of your hair.
“Hi.” you whisper against him. 
One word. Simple. However the weight of it sends a chill down his spine. It feels like home. 
He tightens his hold. A silent understanding. The two of you never had much of a need for words anyways. 
“Hi.” he whispers back.
The apple tree is much bigger now.
Long, thick branches, a wide trunk, a slight tilt in its shape.
It’s bare. The season is long gone. But it’s okay, because it means that the view of the stars isn’t blocked when you and Jisung lay beneath it.
It’s the same but it isn’t. There’s gaps– periods of time where the two of you grew separately. There are moments and memories tucked away that neither of you know about, whole lives to discover. 
But even so, it feels right. His arm wrapped around you, your head on his chest. The stars and the moon. You and Jisung.
It’s nice. Perfect, even. But there’s a conversation that needs to be had. One that can’t be put off any longer.
“Ji.”
“Hm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
Jisung shifts beneath you, tightening his hold. The grass is damp. Neither of you care, too caught up in each other to stress about whether or not it’ll stain.
“Of course.”
“Am I ever gonna see you again?”
He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”
“You said that last time.”
“I know.”
“So what makes this different?” you ask, sitting up. He watches you carefully, eyes trained on every movement like he’s scared you’ll get up and run away.
When he realizes you’re waiting for an answer, he sits up too, pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. 
He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly reaches into his pocket. Silently, he hands whatever he grabbed to you. A guitar pick.
It’s white, a marbled design. Golden flecks infused into the lines. There, on the front, is a singular marigold. When you flip it over, you’re met with a tulip. 
“Do you remember that one time, when you called me crying at midnight because Nana told you that she didn’t know if she’d be able to afford school in the city?”
You nod silently, still turning the guitar pick over in your hand. 
It was one of those nights where the rain was relentless. Monsoon season always tagged on to the tail end of the school year, bringing with it a more intense gloominess than usual. 
You’d been angry. Stressed. Irritated that other kids at school were making plans to go to the mainland for college and you were stuck helping your grandmother trim foliage and wrap vases in newspaper.
“You told me that you couldn’t do it anymore.” Jisung whispered, staring up at the sky. “That you were tired of being here. That you needed to get out.”
You remember. Jisung had walked through the rain to show up at your window. Had climbed in with muddy shoes and sat on the floor of your room with you until the downpour stopped and your tears dried.
“And I said that I would make it happen, that I would invent a way to live amongst the stars so you could be as far from here as possible.”
“So what?” you ask, looking at him. “Did you finally do it, then? Is that why you came back?”
“Don’t be like that.”
“No, Jisung, I’m gonna fucking be like that.” you scoff, rising to your feet. 
There’s a fire in your veins, stoked until the embers are burning hot against your throat. Too good to be true. You should’ve known that there was no explanation left for him to give.
Jisung scrambles to his feet. “It wasn’t like I wanted to–”
“Oh like hell you did.” you say, turning to face him. “Four years, Jisung. I waited four years and you just– you come back and decide to tell me about some make-believe bullshit to save yourself and feel less guilty about the fact that you left.”
“It wasn’t make-believe to me,” he argues. “It was real. Everything I said was real. I left and I tried for years to make something of myself so I could come back here and get you.”
“Oh so it’s my fault? I made you leave, is that it?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“So then say something else!” you yell. The stars rumble, threatening to fall out of the sky. “Say something else, then, Jisung. Why didn’t you call? Huh?”
“Because I–” he stops, licks his lips. “God. Fuck. I couldn’t face you if I had nothing to show for myself, okay? It wasn’t fair to you for me to leave you behind just so I could fail.”
“Ha!” you laugh, running a hand through your hair in disbelief. “So you decided to go radio silent instead? Decided to not only leave me alone but let me suffer and wonder about where you were because that’s so much better than telling me that you were struggling, right? Great choice, Jisung. Really.”
He blinks a few times, watching as you pace back and forth in the grass. 
Anger bubbles deep in your gut. This whole time, he knew. It was a conscious decision. Jisung deliberately didn’t contact you because he chose not to.
“Did you ever even love me?”
The words tumble out before you can stop them. Jisung’s entire body goes rigid, his face falling and eyes hardening within a fraction of a second.
“Watch what you say.” he says, his voice low in his chest.
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just be honest.”
“I’m trying.” he pleads. His eyes are glossy. Big and round behind his glasses. Illuminated by the moon. 
“I fucked up, okay? I prioritized myself and the way I felt over you and fucked everything up. But I tried. I tried so fucking hard. And I’m sorry it took me so long but I wanted– no–  I needed to make sure that I had everything figured out before I came back. I promised I would.”
“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”
“I’m not talking about you.” he says then, taking a deep breath. “You weren’t the only one I made promises to back then.”
Before you have a chance to speak, Jisung says, “I promised her. I told her I’d get you out of here. That I’d give you a life that you deserved, because she knew she couldn’t.”
You drop to your knees when the first sob hits, the force of it racking your body so hard you feel like you’re drowning. Jisung catches you on the fall, holds you up, lets you bury your face into his neck like he had so many times before.
“She told me you believed in forever. She wanted me to give that to you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”
Jisung lets you cry. He holds you through the storm, your wails as loud as thunder and tears as heavy as rain. Four years in the making; the sky and the earth colliding until the dirt and layers of sediment give way to the molten core that’s been hiding beneath the surface all along.
Pain. Grief. All of it pent up and leading to this moment. 
“You should’ve told me.” you cry, beating a fist into Jisung’s chest. “You idiot. You fucking idiot. You should’ve told me.” 
Jisung pulls you in closer, takes each hit as long as it means that it’ll soften the blow on your heart. He whispers apologies in your ear, runs a hand through your hair. 
When it quiets again, the worst of the storm gone, he shifts so that your head is in his lap, his legs crossed and tucked beneath him. A few stray tears wet the fabric of his jeans, your eyes focused on the field of flowers across the street.
“I won’t ask you to come with me.” he says after a long while, when your breathing has evened out. “I know that things are different. You have a life here that you’ve made for yourself, responsibilities to bear as well.”
He pauses to push a few strands of hair out of your face. His fingers are gentle against the skin of your cheek.
“But I promise it’ll be different. I spent too long away from you, was too selfish for my own good. I won’t disappear again. I’ll call every day. I’ll visit. You’ll get every part of me that I kept away from you all this time, and I’ll get every part of you in return.”
Your heart thrums. The thought of having what you’ve wanted for so long. Of having Jisung.
“And when you’re ready, when you feel like you can’t do it anymore, there’ll be a place for you.”
His voice is firm. Confident. More sure than he’s ever sounded before in his life.
When you turn to face him, he’s already staring back. Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the offer to make it yours.
Under the apple tree, Jisung leans down and kisses you for the first time. Twenty four years in the making, soft and slow, his lips a perfect fit against yours. A starboy and his flower girl. His glow is so bright it makes blossoms sprout from her fingertips.
Soft curls tickle your eyelids when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. You reach up to run a hand through them, smiling softly when he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. 
“I love you.” you say first this time. 
He reaches out a hand, closes it over your fist that’s still clutching the guitar pick. A marigold and a tulip, both working together to make a perfect harmony. 
“I love you, too.” Jisung whispers back. “Forever.”
Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.
There’s less tears this time, less of a reason to be sad. But still, when he wraps his arms around you, vanilla filling your nose and curls against your face, you feel your composure crumble.
“Every day.” he says, repeating the same thing he did all night. “I promise. Morning and night. Also at lunch. Oh, and on your days off. Matter of fact, you can call when you’re on the toilet too.”
The last part earns him an elbow to the ribs, his laughter bubbling up and out of his throat as he tries to dodge any and all subsequent attacks.
He kisses you stupid before he goes, Chan rolling his eyes from his car out front. You flip him off blindly, Jisung’s lips still attached to yours, earning a loud honk in response.
When he leaves, the shop is quiet, the only sound being the buzzing of your phone as Jisung blows it up with text messages the second the car pulls away.
You’re too busy replying, giggling to yourself when a slew of cute emoticons start appearing one by one, that you nearly fall over out of your chair when Hyunjin bursts through the door.
“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, breathless. 
“Uh,” you blink, glancing round. “Working?”
“Is Jisung not on a damn plane right now?”
“I mean he’s on his way to the airport. Chan is–”
“Chan hyung told me that Jisung wanted you to go with him.” Hyunjin says, brow furrowed.
You sigh. “He didn’t want me to go with him. Well, okay, he did. But I told him I can’t just pick up and leave. He knows that. Nana left this place to me and–”
“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs. 
“Excuse me?” you ask. You stand up, crossing your arms as you walk closer to the counter. 
“Come on. We have to go.”
“Go where, Hyunjin? I’m not leaving to–”
He cuts you off, places an envelope on the wooden surface. “And I am not letting you stay here and pretend that this is what you want.”
“What is that?” 
“A plane ticket.” he says, pushing it towards you. “To Seoul.”
Your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. Hyunjin is already moving around the counter, pushing past you with an expression the most serious you’ve ever seen on him.
“Hyunjin I– I can’t– where did you even…?”
“Chan hyung has a friend.” he mumbles as he begins pulling stuff out of the office. Your planning notebook, your apron, the picture of your grandma off the wall. All of it thrown into a small box he managed to snag from somewhere off to the side.
“His name is Seungmin or something. Met him out in the tourist hub. Dude’s super rich with tons of miles and apparently owed Chan for a drunken night where he needed to be escorted to his hotel. So thanks to him, you’re leaving.” he explains as he grabs the box with both hands and starts walking towards the door.
“Wait.” you stop him, watching as he turns to regard you with a look that says his patience is running thin. 
“I told you I can’t leave, Hyunjin. This place is where I need to be.”
He huffs, places the box on the ground in front of him. His hair falls in waves around his face, a shimmery dark brown beneath the rays of the sun poking into the room. 
“Can you be honest with me?” he asks. 
You nod, slowly. 
“Do you love him?”
Hyunjin watches you with careful eyes. Reads you like a book, something he’s always been good at. You don’t doubt that it’s written on your face. Star-kissed cheeks and eyes as bright as marigolds. 
“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”
Hyunjin smiles, eyes watery. “Then you deserve to go. You deserve your chance to be free. Don’t worry about this place, I’ll take care of it.”
The familiar sting of tears sits behind your eyes. Your heart swells full of love for this friend, this light, this beacon of unconditional love in the shape of your best friend.
“I don’t have clothes.” you manage to say around the lump in your throat.
Hyunjin shakes his head, tears spilling down the bridge of his nose. 
“I’ll send them to you.”
“There’s a lot to do around here for just one person. What if you need me?”
“I’ll manage.” 
You round the corner quickly, throwing yourself into his chest. He catches you with ease, wraps his arms around your body as the both of you cry into each other.
“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.
Hyunjin’s throat bobs against the top of your head. “I’ll always be here in our little corner of the world.”
The two of you stay like that for a while. Hyunjin’s warmth seeps into your skin, lights you ablaze. By the time he pulls away, his hands on your shoulders, you feel like you’re floating. Unreal.
“I don’t have a way to get there.” you say quickly, glancing at the clock. 
Jisung’s plane leaves soon. The airport, the only one on the island, is a thirty minute drive. You’re at a disadvantage the more time you spend not moving. 
“Don’t worry,” Hyunjin chuckles. “I’ve got that taken care of.”
You open your mouth to ask him what he means when you’re cut off by the sound of honking from outside. Confused, you run to the door, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize who’s waiting for you.
“Hurry up people we don’t have all day!” Jeongin calls, his upper body hanging out of the window. He’s parked outside in a beat-up truck, arms waving wildly when he spots you.
“Innie!” you scream, pushing through the door to run at him. He jumps out of the truck just in time for you to barrel into his chest, laughter loud in your ears as he spins you around. 
“You’re here! Oh my god I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.” you say in disbelief once he puts you down.
He looks older, more sophisticated. His hair is rusted and falls past his ears, the ends just barely touching his shoulders. 
“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I figured I’d show up earlier. You know, see you before you leave, catch up with my parents, help Hyunjin break into your house. The usual.”
“Help Hyunjin break into my what–” you say, but you stop when your eyes fall on the small suitcase in the backseat. Your own bag, the one that’s been sitting in your closet untouched for years now.
“For the last time,” Hyunjin says from behind you, carrying the box in his arms. “It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key. Which, by the way, I told you would come in handy one day.”
He sets the box down next to the luggage and dusts his hands on his pants. When he turns to face you, he’s smiling, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.
With tears threatening to spill once again, you stare at the both of them, your heart bursting at the seams. “I love you guys.”
Jeongin grimaces, opts for getting back in the driver’s seat as you laugh. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and ushers you inside of the truck.
“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” he says. “Right now, you have a plane to catch.”
The airport is crowded. 
There are tons of people everywhere, some saying hello and some saying goodbye. Hyunjin explained the gate system to you before you left him and Jeongin on the curb, and you keep glancing down at your ticket to make sure none of the information has changed in the past thirty seconds since you last looked. 
Thankfully, your gate isn’t far. With twenty minutes to go until boarding, you can feel the sweat building up beneath the hand that’s curled around your suitcase handle. 
It’s scary thinking about the fact that this is it. That you’re finally leaving. 
It’s bittersweet, too. There’s an excitement in the pit of your stomach as well as a feeling of dread in your chest, both of them meeting in the middle somewhere. 
You let your eyes scan the crowd, searching for wavy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. However, the first thing you see is the familiar neck of a guitar, strapped right on to a back that you would know and recognize anywhere without warning.
Jisung is seated near the gate, his eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a pout as he glares down at his phone. You realize that he’s probably wondering why you won’t answer, why all of his emoticons are going ignored. 
Quietly, you come up behind him, reach into your pocket, and say, “Excuse me? I think you dropped this.”
Jisung startles, his eyes falling on to the guitar pick being held out in your hand. Slowly, he lets his gaze follow upwards, wide-eyed and shocked.
“What– what are you doing here?” he asks. 
You place the pick in his hand. “I'm on my way to Seoul. There’s a guy there that I’ve been trying to find for a while.” you say. 
Jisung catches on quickly. “Oh, really?” he asks, moving over so you can sit beside him. “This guy must be pretty great if you’re leaving for the mainland.”
The rain starts hitting the tarmac outside right as you sit down. “Hm, yeah. He is. He really likes the stars. He says that he found a way for me to live in them, too.” 
He laughs, the sound making your stomach flip. “Sounds like you’re excited.”
You nod. “I am. He promised me that we’d do a lot together, experience new things. Apparently he’s gonna write songs and I’m gonna be a nerd.”
Jisung snorts and reaches across to link his hand with yours.
“He’s really lucky.” he says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips.
You smile into it. “So am I.” you whisper into his mouth, your heart stuffed to the brim with flower petals. 
And when Jisung smiles back, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek and give you another kiss with the force of a thousand suns, you feel the key you’d been searching for finally click into place. 
Salt of the earth. Soil and stardust. A boy who glows so bright that his girl sprouts blossoms from her fingertips. 
Forever isn’t promised. But then again, with Jisung by your side, there are things you know for certain:
It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. In Jeju– it rains.
And no matter what, despite all odds, you and Jisung will always find your way back to each other in the place where marigolds grow.
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[tags: @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @drhsthl @strwbrrychannie @shays-library @giuliadesu @iknowyouknowminho @linocz @pynchkilledme @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @chans1aptop @liknws @realrintaro @beeracha @vxllxnsworld @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]
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204 notes · View notes
reallyromealone · 1 day
Text
Title: fate
Fandom: jjk
Characters: Gojo, original character for plot purposes
Fic type: story
Pairings: Gojo x reader
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, angst, soulmate, Gojo is a jerk, slow burn
Notes:
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
There was no space for weakness amongst sorcerer's, no space for mistakes and no space to be anything less than perfect.
He had always heard of his fiance, Gojo Satoru... The god amongst sorcerer's...
Though he never met the Alpha, the high and mighty sorcerer never bothered meeting the diamond of the (lastname) clan and did everything he wanted and everyone he wanted while (name) was expected to wait.
The only reason they were fiance's is because of stupid blood work, the two having extreme compatibility and thus an engagement... The Alpha apparently became a teacher.
(Name) Always stood out with people, clothes traditional and expensive as students gawked at the Royal looking omega with two S rank sorcerer's beside him as security and a calm yet serious expression on his face, he was rarely called here... Hell he wasn't even allowed to attend due to being the fiance of Gojo, the Alpha barring it.
That always made (name) laugh, couldn't meet his omega even once and downright ignored him but controlled every aspect.
"You will be expected to marry within the next month, you're both 19 and twenty and after the wedding we expect pups within the first year" Gojo sat beside him, legs spread out and sitting casual as if he didn't make them wait an hour for him to arrive. (Name) Didn't know what to do with the Alpha beside him, (name) expected to wear scent patches at all times and a collar but Gojo had his scent out and proud, it was almost suffocating.
The concept of marrying such an asshole... (Name) Didn't want that.
He didn't want to live a life being this fuckers baby machine.
So, a week after... He left.
Took the jewelry gifted to him by people wanting his hand or favor, once people learned who he was it was like floodgates opened and (name) just kept the expensive jewelry in a box... Now they served a purpose.
That was one year ago, now 20 and across the country away from Tokyo and away from... Him.
(Name) Lived in a farm house on a coastal village, trading his traditional clothes for t-shirts and cardigans, simple trousers and sneakers, all things he never wore before living on his own. The two was nice, the Omega had more money than god with the jewels he sold and worked part time at the small hobby shop in town, the elderly alpha woman introducing him to many hobbies.
For the first time, (name) felt calm.
His shoulders never tensed anymore.
But he knew to never eat his guard down.
(Name) Didn't keep much tech, he didn't really use it back in Tokyo so it didn't appeal to him but he did keep a radio and a small tv in the corner, his boss giving him her old dvd player and (name) would borrow movies from the library, catching up on things he missed.
Currently he was watching a drama as he crocheted another blanket for his nest, humming softly to himself as rain patterned outside against his roof and the smell of his food cooking in the oven.
Knock knock knock.
(Name) Was confused as he stood up, walking to the door and carefully he cracked the door open just a sliver when he smelt it... Pine and peppermint. The smell of Gojo Satoru.
"You are a very hard person to find, surprisingly" Gojo said as he pushed the door open, the smell of distress and anxiety filling the small space as the sorcerer walked in "cute place, not what I would have expected from the (last name)s clans little gem" his voice condescending as he looked around at the little decorations and such.
"I'm not going back" (name) hissed as he stepped away whenever Gojo got closer "im not being some daycare for your pups while you go sleep around japan!" Gojo wore his eye mask though even with that he could feel the glare, the man was done with this.
"So you're going to play farm boy here? We both know you're not even remotely cut out for that" Gojo taunted and (name) glared at him "you know nothing about me! I know you never opened that stupid packet about me! I was expected to give everything to you but you couldn't even muster up talking to me! You treated me like I didn't exist!" (Name) Yelled angrily, all the years of anger and resentment boiling over "you don't get to want me now, I don't care if we are fated or whatever! You are a jackass!" (Name) Felt the air knocked out of him as he was pushed against a wall, the infinity making him feel like the other was pressing against him as he realized that gojos mask was no longer present, piercing blue eyes staring down at him.
"Do you think I was happy with the elders deciding that I was going to marry some prissy Omega? That suddenly I was expected to play house with someone I didn't know!" He growled and (name) wasn't backing down despite the pharamones and pressure "you didn't even try and get to know me! You didn't want me!"
"Well I'm here now, aren't I !"
" A little late, don't you think!"
"God you're annoying!"
"Back at you"
This was not the Omega Gojo remembered, the poised and refined Omega who poured tea and wore pretty clothes was replaced by an angry man in comfy clothes and a heated glare and an attitude "we are literally bound by fate and we can't even hold a conversation without arguing" Gojo found the situation weirdly funny as (name) looked at him with a mix of annoyance and disgust as the sound of his timer went off and (name) managed to get away to go take his food out the oven.
Gojo followed the other and looked at the food, it looked really good "you know how to cook?"
"I was literally trained to be the perfect house wife" (name) said bluntly as the sound of a stomach growling caught both of their attention and Gojo looked at the other and (name) sighed "I literally can't make you leave" he hissed as he grabbed another plate.
Dinner was tense as (name) ate, reading his book as he did so as Gojo took the time to inspect his surroundings "it's like an old persons house, do you even have a computer?"
"Don't know how to use one, don't need it" (name) said as he took a bite of his food and Gojo looked surprised at his words "you grew up with cast wealth, how do you not?" He didn't believe it at all as (name) set his book down "an Omega and an alpha live different lives, you were given more freedoms then myself... You got to attend school and make friends and I was raised to be the perfect mate and technology wasn't deemed important to know compared to the art of tea pouring" he said simply as he looked into the others eyes "I have spent this year learning everything i was deprived of, I lived in Tokyo yet I had never seen it outside my escape"
If it was tense before then it was suffocating now, Gojo never considered these things.
He never once considered the life his fiance was living, having always been told he was living the perfect life of luxury and frankly assumed he was some spoiled Omega.
"I would have shown you..." Gojo started, guilt bubbling in him, "oh? You would have spared me time? Between your whores?" (Name) Tilted his head curiously and Gojo felt a headache form "I hear everything you know? From my maids... They always told me I should be lucky that I'm fated to you" (name) looked away and continued eating, book abandoned beside him as the smell of fury radiated from the Omega, Gojo sighing as he took a bite of his food. The food was phenomenal, seasoned perfectly and not one thing not amazing about it but he didn't comment "we can sort these things out when we go home" Gojo said finally, they would get everything in order when they returned home.
"I am home, I have no intentions of going anywhere with you" (name) said stiffly as he stood with an empty plate.
"Well, tough" Gojo said tired as he followed the Omega around the small farm house, cozy and warm "you're my Omega and I'm tired of this"
"Was I your omega when you screwed across the land?" (Name) Glared at him, he didn't care who he was or what strength he possessed... He was tired of everyone making choices for him! "You can go back to whatever life you had before, say I died or something... I know that there's countless omegas dying for a chance to be your fiance"
"Well if you're not going with me, in not going anywhere" Gojo said simply as he walked to the small couch and plopped down "you're like a child" (name) glared, wasn't even like he could go out, the rain so heavy.
"I'm going to bed" (name) grumbled as he went to his bedroom, Gojo getting up to follow but (name) slammed the door in his face.
This was going to be annoying, Gojo could feel it.
Come morning, (name) wore a loose shirt and sweatpants as he made himself his morning drink and stared at his mug sleepily as Gojo watched from the livingroom curiously, the other rubbed his eyes sleepily as calm and sweet pharamones filled the space. Gojo realized that this was the first time he could smell the others pharamones and not smell distress.
He never smelt anything so wonderful.
(Name) Set a mug of tea, brewed perfectly "how did..." "We were both given packets about one another, you pretended I didn't exist remember?"
Gojo had a feeling (name) wasn't going to let go of that anytime soon.
Gojo followed (name) around all day, when the Omega walked down the path towards the village "you really live out in the middle of nowhere" Gojo commented as they walked along the tree lined path, (name) holding a few bags "you know in Tokyo, I could have food delivered to us right?" Gojo remarked and (name) just ignored him, at least the Alpha had the sense to wear sunglasses instead of his mask so he didn't look insane "there's barely a connection out here" the Alpha remarked, (name) knew what he was doing and it wasn't working.
The villagers looked confused as (name) had a towering alpha follow him, the omega shopping as if he wasn't even there "(name)!" A couple kids ran up to the Omega who looked down curiously "what is it little ones?" (Name) Asked softly as the youngest clung to his leg, a little pup with wide eyes and a sweet smile "play with us!" One of the kids said excitedly and (name) smiled "maybe later little ones, I have errands I have to do" (name) ushered the children towards the small park area, Gojo watching the scene curiously.
"So why did you come looking for me? I thought you would have been elated at my sudden leaving" (name) asked as they walked home, Gojo forcing the other to let him hold the bags "my alpha... It practically destroyed half the estate when it found out you left... Geto ripped me a new one"
"So you had an epiphany and came here acting like everything would be fine" (name) said with a sigh and Gojo shrugged "I mean yeah" "and what? Expect me to be like 'oh thank you alpha! You're so kind and didn't make me feel worthless and your actions didn't cause me verbal and emotional abuse from my family!' been going to therapy and the therapist says you suck" (name) was way snarkier than Gojo thought he would be, he liked that his omega wasn't weak "I spent a year being on my own and doing what makes me happy, I don't want you messing that up"
"What do you even do out here?" Gojo asked and (name) shrugged "I have a part time job and I'm an active member of the community, no stress of either of our families... Everything is good"
"What would it take for you to come back?" Gojo asked "money? I can make sure you have everything you need"
"I don't want money, I don't want that stuff... I'm not marrying someone who doesn't love me and I don't love in turn"
Gojo spent the night thinking about it, while his omega slept peacefully in the other room and pulled out his phone to text Geto... He wasn't sure what to do.
229 notes · View notes
lilasamaaa · 20 hours
Text
The night we met | Lando Norris x Reader
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Genre | Fluff.
Word count | 2.6K
Warnings | None for once! Enjoy some peace.....
Author's note | This piece is the result of yesterday's poll! Another poll will be coming soon for y'all to decide what's next :)
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"I'm really not sure if it's a good idea, Alice," she sighs, looking over at the bed where her friend is seated, behind her.
"What makes you say that?" Alice replies, arching an eyebrow.
"I have a list of reasons, actually," she states, pulling out her phone.
"You and your damn lists!"
"I know you hate them, but they help me clear my mind," she says, clicking on a note.
"Alright, let's hear your reasons then," Alice laughs. "But I'm warning you, I'm going to dismantle them one by one."
"Okay," she starts. "Reason one is : I don't know him."
"That's kinda... the whole point of blind dates," her friend says, rolling her eyes.
"Well, you agreed to this. I did not. You know how anxious I get when I don't know people," she says, head low.
"Lando is a really nice guy," Alice says, coming close to her friend and stroking her hair. "I just know he'll put you at ease right away."
She takes a few seconds to think, biting the inside of her cheek. It's not the first time she's about to go on a date with someone she's never met before. Even though she doesn't know him, she's not really worried about Lando. She's more concerned about herself, to be honest. She's not a model of eloquence, doesn't consider herself particularly pretty. She's sure her date will do his best. What she's not sure about, is if she'll be able to overcome her own anxiety about the whole situation.
"Reason two, then," she says, focusing back on the note. "I don't know a thing about racing. What are we even going to talk about?"
"Well, something else. I'm sure Lando would be delighted to talk about something other than work for once," Alice replies, winking.
She wasn't lying, she thinks. She really has an answer for everything.
"Shoot me with reason three, baby," Alice says, letting out a laugh.
"Reason three," she replies, eyeing her friend. "Let's say I don't fuck up, which would be a miracle in itself, and we hit it off. How am I supposed to maintain a long-distance relationship? We're not talking about Brighton or Cambridge, we're talking about another continent. Several times a year."
"Well, I'm glad you're thinking so much ahead," Alice replies, earning a frustrated grunt from her friend. "There'll be plenty of people who are in the same situation as you. You can always ask for advice from other WAGS," she concludes, laughing.
"You're insufferable."
"Was there a fourth reason to debunk, or are we done here?" Alice asks.
"There is, actually. That's the last one," she says, staring at her phone. "Every time I've gone on a date like this, without having seen the guy... They were never really... to my taste," she begins. "So I've never kissed them, never went any further. But if I like him, what am I supposed to do?"
"What's the real question?"
"Am I supposed to kiss him on the first date? I don't want him to think I'm easy. Is it better to play hard to get and..."
"Wow, you're overthinking this," Alice says, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't have any answer to give you. Just... Go with the flow. And if you're not sure about what to do, let him take the lead. Okay?"
An hour later, she's walking through the streets of Bristol, trying to calm her breathing, her thoughts, her already racing heart. She's checked the address Lando had sent her about ten times before leaving Alice's apartment. On principle, she takes out her phone, checking one last time. Her phone indicates that the restaurant is less than a minute's walk away, at the corner of the street she's on. There's still time to turn back, she thinks, before gathering herself. No. He doesn't deserve that.
In front of the restaurant, she casts a quick glance inside, checking if he's already there, before remembering that she doesn't even know what he looks like. Well, she has a vague idea. She's seen pictures on Alice's Facebook and Instagram over the years, but his precise features escape her. She remembers curly hair, beauty spots. Not much more. She's not sure if she would recognize him in a crowd.
She pushes the door and slips inside the buzzing restaurant, politely greeting the waitress who welcomes her.
"I have a reservation for two," she says. "The name's Norris."
"Ah yes, he's already here, in the second room. I'll take you to him," the waitress replies, flashing a smile.
Her heart stops. He's already here? She deliberately arrived fifteen minutes early to have time to settle down quietly, to gather herself. To wash her hands if they're too sweaty. This was not how it was supposed to go at all, she thinks, feeling the anxiety rise.
The waitress guides her through the tables to the small room at the back of the restaurant. On the way, her brain disconnects, giving way to total panic. I knew it was a bad idea, she tells herself, biting her lip. I'm going to make a fool of myself. The waitress suddenly stops, saying something that her brain doesn't comprehend before walking away and she looks up, meeting his gaze.
Oh, wow, she thinks, eyes widening. That man is too handsome for his own good.
"Hey, it's nice to meet you" he says, extending a bouquet of white tulips to her. "Alice said those were your favorites."
She smiles, taking the bouquet before burying her nose in it. Alice, you little sneak.
"Thank you so much," she replies, feeling her cheeks flush. "They're stunning."
Lando pulls out her chair before sitting back down, not taking his eyes off her. Feeling his gaze on her, she dives intensely into reading the menu. Or rather, she pretends to, because she's not even reading, just trying to avoid the attention the driver is giving her.
"You seem nervous," he states, still looking at her.
Feeling her cheeks turn red, she holds her menu higher in front of her face, hiding a little more. "Hey," he says, putting his finger on the menu to lower it. "What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry. I'm just really bad at this," she replies, finally looking at him. "Dates, conversations, one-on-ones. It's not about you, I swear."
There we go, she thinks, head low. We've been sitting for ten minutes and I've already messed everything up.
"Would you like to go somewhere else?" he asks, and she looks up, furrowing her brows.
"What?"
"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, that wasn't the intention," he says. "A romantic dinner may be a bit much for a first date. So, if you want to go somewhere else, do something else, it's not a problem."
"But... We're already sitting," she says, confused.
"It's no big deal," he replies, shrugging. "The restaurant is packed, they won't go bankrupt because we leave. We can just tell them we don't like anything on the menu."
She lets out a laugh, covering her mouth, astonished by the driver's suggestion.
"If you could go anywhere, a place where you feel comfortable and safe, where would you go?" he asks, his big eyes detailing her.
She thinks for a moment, looking upwards, biting her lip again.
"If we really had no limits... I'd go to the sea," she replies, thoughtful.
"Let's go then," Lando says, rising up and taking his jacket.
"What? Lando, we can't do that," she says, still sitting. "The good beaches are like, an hour drive away."
But Lando has already circled the table, jacket in hand, extending his hand to her.
"My car's parked outside," he replies.
She doesn't understand what's happening, so for once, she sets aside her brain and listens to her heart, grasping his hand and allowing him to guide her towards the restaurant's exit, the driver only stopping to explain briefly to the very understanding waitress that an emergency has come up and they have to leave, carefully slipping several bills in her hand as a tip - and as compensation.
Outside, Lando leads her to his car, their hands still intertwined, her heels clicking on the cobblestones. He opens the door for her and she slips inside, her heart racing.
"I've never done anything like this in my entire life," she says, staring straight ahead.
"You should never force yourself to do something you don't want to do, though," he replies, looking through the rear window to reverse, leaning indirectly towards her. His scent reaches her nose and she can't help but look at him closely, detailing every detail of his profile. His clear eyes. His beauty spots that remind her of constellations. The curly lock of hair that crosses his forehead.
"Does Ogmore work for you?" he asks, snapping her out of her reverie.
"Ogmore's perfect," she replies, eyes glistening.
They set off, and as the English countryside landscape passes by through the window, she notices that for the first time since she left Alice's apartment, she isn't feeling anxious. Her heart still beats just as fast, sure, but she suspects it's not really because of stress anymore. Lando rummages between their seats and eventually pulls out a cable, which he hands to her.
"I don't mind driving, but you're the DJ," he says, laughing. "Put on some music. Let me know who you are."
She grabs the cable before connecting it to her phone, scrolling through her Spotify playlist. So you want to know who I am, huh? she thinks, blushing again, before clicking on her favorite song.
The first notes of "I'm Outta Time" by Oasis resonate in the car, and Lando shoots her a surprised look.
"I actually love that song," he says, smirking. "What does it tell about you?"
"Well," she starts. "As you must be starting to suspect, I strongly identify with the idea that the sea is the only place that manages to calm me down, where I truly feel free."
"I'm with you on that one," he replies.
"And then... It's quite personal, but to me, the song's about someone who's lonely. Someone seeking comfort, a pillar, someone who can support them through everything. But also someone they'd be willing to let go out of love."
Lando turns his head towards her, and she gets lost in the softness and understanding reflected in his eyes. The song comes to an end, and she clicks on "On Melancholy Hill" by Gorillaz.
"I promise I'm not depressed," she says, meeting his gaze, while he lets out a laugh.
"This one's talking about the sea, again," he states.
"There's that," she says. "And there's this dreamy feeling. It's about frustration, about pressuring yourself to achieve big things, when maybe..." she stops for a second. "Maybe just being with your person is enough. Maybe there's no need for more," she finishes, looking out the window, troubled by the feeling of having said too much.
"I get it," he says, still looking at the road ahead.
"You do?" she asks.
"Of course. I'm not the last one to have dreams and goals, as you can imagine. But at the end of the day, when all that's over, what's left? What do you turn to?"
The rest of the journey goes on in the same way. She plays a song, explains why she likes it, what it makes her feel, what it reminds her of. Lando listens attentively, interweaving her narrative with his own anecdotes, sharing his thoughts, his fears. That's much more intimate than a restaurant, she thinks. But somehow, she doesn't mind.
Forty minutes later, a sign indicates that Ogmore is the next exit, and Lando turns onto the narrow road, which soon becomes a path. They leave the car in a parking lot, where only a few cars are parked before embarking on the sandy trail. Before them, the sun has begun to set, tinting the sky with orange, pink, and violet hues.
"Just in time," Lando says before plopping down on the sand. She sits beside him, closing her eyes. Absorbing the healing sound of the waves.
"Thank you so much for this, Lando. You have no idea how much it means to me," she says, feeling emotional.
They both lie there, side by side, without saying a word, lulled by the sound of the waves.
"Do you remember the night we met?" Lando suddenly asks, looking at the sky and the stars that the onset of night begins to reveal.
"What do you mean?" she asks, turning on her side to look at him.
"It was last year," Lando starts, as she furrows her brows, completely lost.
"I'm not sure I understand," she replies, confused. "I've seen you in pictures... But this is the first time we meet."
"Alice's birthday, in London," the driver specifies, and she dives into her thoughts, trying to rewind time. "You were wearing a black dress. Backless."
"I... I remember the birthday, and the dress," she begins. "But I don't remember you. Well, I remember Alice saying you had something come up," she continues, lost.
"I had a work function, couldn't get away. But I still stopped by, dropped off Alice's gift," he explains.
"I'm sorry, Lando," she says, embarrassed. "I don't remember seeing you."
"We crossed paths in one of the hallways of the bar. You were leaning against a wall, talking to someone... Jeff? Greg?" he says, closing his eyes as if trying to remember.
"Jeff? My boyfriend at the time?"
"Yes, that was him. You two were arguing about something, I can't remember what. The tone started to escalate, and you walked off towards the restroom."
"I remember that."
"I found myself in front of Jeff, and I told him, "You shouldn't argue with a pretty girl like that. She deserves better". He told me to fuck off, to mind my business, and left," he recalls, laughing.
"Wow, I had no idea," she says. "Him and I broke up like, four months after that anyway."
"I know. Alice told me."
"Why would she tell you that? It must not be of much interest to you."
"I'd mentioned to her that I found you beautiful. In fact, to be honest, I think I said you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen," the driver says. "So one morning, she texted me. Said something like... "She broke up with Jeff. Time to grow a pair."
"Wow," she says, laughing in shock. "I didn’t know that."
Silence falls. Neither speaks for several seconds. He, wondering if he's said too much. Her, wondering what she should conclude from the driver's words.
"So..." she starts. "When Alice told me that she had planned a blind date..."
"It was my idea," he says, meeting her eyes. "But we couldn't say that."
"Oh, my god," she says, laughing again. "I can't believe you two."
A particularly turbulent wave crashes at their feet, making them yelp and quickly stand up. They're suddenly face to face. Wrapped in a heavy silence. One that cannot last.
"So you did, then," she finally says.
"What?"
"You grew a pair," she replies as he bursts out laughing.
"You're not angry at me, are you?" he asks, taking a step forward.
"I'm... quite surprised, I won't lie. But I'm not angry, no. I've never had a first date like this," she confesses. "I've never felt so listened to, so understood... In so little time. It started off badly, and yet you... you made me feel like I could be myself."
"You can," Lando says, taking her hand. "That's all I want."
"Will you think I'm moving too fast if I kiss you?" she suddenly asks.
"No," he says, coming closer until their breaths meet. "I won't."
203 notes · View notes
redocity · 2 days
Note
Hey, if you’re looking for more buck requests I’d love something where he’s dating the reader and it’s going well but before they get chance to meet the team they get in an accident or their building catches fire or something and buck ends up rescuing her and hen and Eddie work on her etc and then after when they’re okay she’s just like when I said I wanted to meet the team this is not what I meant. Thank you so much if you decide to write this 💕
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WORKOUT — E.BUCKLEY
going to the gym when LA was due for a flash flood was not the best idea on your part, but at least you got to meet the people that buck called family
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WARNINGS: established relationship, flooding, corpse mention, minor character injury
evan buckley x gn!reader || fluff || 4.0k || requests open!!
a/n: is this the best thing i’ve ever written? no. but i hope it suffices nonetheless 🫶
₊ ⊹ masterlist!!
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Who knew joining a new boxing gym of all things would land you a boyfriend.
A tall, blond, handsome boyfriend who could probably bench press you like it was his warm up.
He could probably bench press your dad like it was a warm up.
You like to think it’s an act of divine intervention, an apology from the gods for making you move across the country by yourself with nothing but yourself to make things work.
The least you deserved was the absolute perfection that was Evan Buckley to make it a little less taxing.
Granted, the way you met was less than perfect, you managing to put your gloves on backwards, get them stuck on your hands and then have to ask for help getting them off whilst internally wanting to jump off a cliff from the embarrassment.
He was nice enough though, making lighthearted jokes about the situation as he helped you take off, and then put back on your gloves in the correct way.
To be honest you’re not sure you can remember most of that first conversation you had, definitely too focused on the muscles in his arms as the overhead lighting emphasised the definition of his biceps and shadowed the curves in his collarbone as they peeked out from underneath the tank top he was wearing.
That aspect of your dynamic never changed, and even as he started to approach you first so that you could pair up to spar with each other you still found yourself taking the time to admire his physique whenever the moment arose.
You found out within a few weeks that it was because he was a firefighter, and if you weren’t attracted to him before you definitely were when you had the fuel to imagine him being able to pick you up with one arm and sling you over his shoulder.
Apparently the feeling was mutual.
You learned a lot about Buck during your weekly gym visits. He was from Pennsylvania and travelled across the US before landing in LA, he had an older sister who used to frequent the gym with him, he worked in fire station number 118, and his team was like a surrogate family to him.
You learned a lot about them too.
You’d heard of the medical adventures of Hen and her scientist wife Karen.
He told you about how Chimney—a nickname he refused to elaborate on because it was ‘a scared secret’—had fallen in love with his sister Maddie and how happy he was for them.
He told you about how Eddie used to serve in the army and had an adorable kid named Christopher that Buck often spent his weekends with.
And he delighted in telling you all about Bobby. How he was a secondary father, how he’d been through the roughest of the rough and pulled himself back up and made Buck strive to have the same resilience, how he’d finally gotten his happy ending by falling in love with and getting married to a cop named Athena and how Buck was so happy that he was happy.
It was really endearing honestly, and it was one of the factors that contributed to how hard you fell for him.
He wasn’t just some ‘strong macho firefighter’, he was a human being, someone who loved with all his heart and put his everything into his job and doing right by the people that he loved and cared about.
He often made comments about bringing you to meet the team, mentioning the occasional barbecue that Bobby and Athena would host at their house and how the team would often bring their families and loved ones along.
It was the first time Buck ever called you his partner. In the middle of a boxing ring whilst you were punching at his hands and he was raving on about Bobby’s cooking.
And it was enough for you to miss the padding covering his palms and almost punch him right in the face.
“Woah-” You can thank his instincts for being the only reason he didn’t end up with a bruised nose, swerving his head at the last second and catching you as you stumbled forward into him.
“I am so sorry-” You remove yourself from his grasp hastily, holding the back of your gloved hand over your mouth to cover the astonishment of your own embarrassment from his view.
“It’s good, are you?” Buck dismisses your apology with a shake of his head an a soft smile that makes you want to squeeze him until he explodes because my god he is so adorable how did you land this man?
“Yeah- yeah I’m good, sorry-” You shake your wrists as a way of dispelling the nervous tension that’s racing through your muscles to settle in your joints.
“You’re sure?” He raises an eyebrow at you, expression a mix of suspicion and concern. “You know, you don’t have to come to anything if you’re not comfortable, I don’t want to rush into something if you’re not ready,”
He lowers his hands to his sides, undoing the velcro to slip the pads off his palms as a show that he wants to engage in the conversation without any distraction. “I have a habit of taking relationships too fast, and I don’t want to do that with you,”
“No that’s not— You’re not doing that, I’d love to meet the rest of your team,” You shake your head adamantly at Buck’s attempt at giving you an out, firmly planting your decision as wanting to take the proverbial ‘next step’ in your relationship in meeting the people he calls family. “I was just caught off guard is all, you’ve uh… you’ve never called me your partner before,”
“Oh— I uh—” Your acknowledgement of what he’d said seems to force him to acknowledge it himself, like it was a subconscious slip of the tongue rather than an informed decision. “Is that okay?”
You take a moment to think, eyes round and cheeks flushed as you nod your head. “Yeah,”
“Yeah?” He takes a step towards you, concern washing out of his expression to be replaced with contentment, confidence rising in his irises as he tilts his head to the side.
“Mhm,” You stifle a small embarrassed giggle as he invades your personal space, mirroring his head tilt with your own as your fluster extends from your cheeks to coat your neck in a dark shade of red.
“Good,” He rests his right hand against your shoulder, drawing small lines from the side of your neck down over the curve of your arm with his fingers. “I’ll have to call you that more often then,” He leans forward with every word until his lips are brushing yours as he speaks, emphasising the end of his sentence by pressing a kiss to your lips that you happily reciprocate.
“I’d like that,” Your face is embarrassingly red as you pull away, a lovesick expression on your face as you don’t even try to hide the way your composure falls apart.
You have half the mind to never go to the gym ever again.
How were you supposed to know that there were flash floods scheduled to hit LA this morning if they didn’t put it on the news until you were already inside the gym? At least you weren’t the only one suffering in your makeshift cage whilst rising water blocked you from leaving.
There was probably about a dozen of you actually, all up bright and early to get in a workout before the day started, and instead locked inside of the gym because the idiotic reporters didn’t warn you in advance that LA was due heavy rain and flash flooding.
Okay, technically it wasn’t their fault, the whole point of weather is that you only really know what’s happening as it happens, but surely they had the technology to be able to anticipate when something this extreme was going to occur.
Someone had already called 911, but you wouldn’t bank on them arriving anytime soon. Buck told you how rough days like this were for emergency responders, and considering that none of you were in an immediate emergency, you wouldn’t be surprised if your situation was put on the back burner until they had a team free.
That meant you basically just had to hunker down for a few hours and wait it out.
It shouldn’t have been to hard to past the time, you could technically just extend your workout for a while, but its barely an hour before the power goes out and half of the gym is rendered completely useless.
The group of you end up sitting on the floor in a circle and just talking to pass the time, although making small talk with people you don’t know can only last so long before you run out of things to talk about.
It was more boring than anything, although as the water began to seep through the seal of the glass doors, you knew that boredom wouldn’t last for very long.
“This is dispatch, we’ve got a gym flooding at 1123 Vine St #14, there’s 13 people trapped inside,” Josh’s voice crackles through the radio as the 118 lugs themselves back into the truck, soaked from the knees downwards.
“Copy that, 118 is en route,” Bobby presses the radio on his chest, tapping the side of the truck with his hand before climbing into the Captain’s seat.
“Copy 118,” The radio crackles then goes dead, and the truck pulls away from the gas station they were parked at with the ambulance hot on it’s tail.
“Vine St? Me and my girlfriend go to a gym Vine St, it’s great,” Buck talks before he’s even got the headset on, half of his sentence being drowned out as a result.
“Well it can’t be that great if it doesn’t have proper seal on the doors can it?” Eddie’s voice is entirely sarcastic, and Buck hits his arm with the back of his hand in retaliation.
“Hey we don’t know if this is my gym or not, so don’t disrespect the integrity of Wildcard boxing gym until we’re sure that’s where we’re going,” Buck scoffs dramatically, and it earns a laugh from the rest of the team.
“Oh no, how dare you besmirch Buck’s sacred place? That’s his second home you’re talking about,” Hen plays into the joke, and Buck responds emphatically by tapping his right hand against his left bicep.
“Exactly,”
“What was that about the ‘integrity’ of your gym Buck?” Eddie blinks up at the sparked out neon sign, jaws resting against his shoulder has he holds them in his right hand.
There was really no mistaking it as someplace else, and for a moment Buck’s focus turns to worry. It was your day off today, what if you’d gone to the gym to take up your time? What if you’d gotten injured in the process? Or god forbid something worse?
“Buck?” His silence is enough for Eddie to look over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “You good?”
“Yeah— Yeah I’m fine,” Buck shakes his head like he’s trying to physically shake the anxiety from his mind. “Let’s go,”
There’s a short shared glance between Eddie and Hen at Buck’s reply, but it ends with nothing more than a shrug as they forced the automatic doors open to enter the gym, adding another rush of water into the building in the process, one that they definitely could’ve done without considering it was almost at waist level already.
“LAFD!” Bobby wades through the water ahead of the group in the start of the search, calling out periodically in the hopes of a response from anyone from the group of people trapped somewhere inside.
Logic would dictate that they probably would’ve moved to the upper floor, but panic often overrides rationality in these sorts of circumstances, so the team couldn’t ever be too safe in searching the bottom floor.
“Alright, Buck, Chim, I want you to follow me in searching the rest of this floor, Eddie and Hen, go upstairs and find anyone you can,”
There’s an echo of “Copy that!”’s as the team split up to search the building, and as Buck makes his way through the familiar gym layout he can only hope that your months of being together with him has taught you how to best keep yourself safe in an emergency situation like this.
The sight of one of the gym regulars floating face down in the water does not reassure him of that fact.
He swears he almost gags at the sight, a mix of shock and disgust at the smell coming from the man as his corpse floats aimlessly, following the ripples in the water as Buck moves. Then he notices his hands. The back of his right hand specifically.
“Cap—” Buck’s voice is harsh and grainy through the radio, not at all helped by the fact the flood had probably disrupted some of the nearby cell towers making the transmission less clear than it already was. “I found— he had—” Buck’s radio periodically turns to static as he tries to relay his message, but it’s key message thankfully gets through undisrupted. “live electricity—”
“LAFD!” Eddie pushes the door open to the upper gym floor with Hen right on his tail, the two scanning the room for anyone immediately visible. “Is anyone there?”
”Here! We’re over here!” Your voice calls from around one of the corners, and you rush out towards the two firefighters with panic written all over your face, completely soaked from head to toe. “Are either of you a paramedic? A stack of weights fell whilst we were trying to create a barrier in case the water rose again and—” You talk whilst leading the two over the the group, and you don’t need to finish your sentence by the time you reach them.
One of the guys was sat against the wall, his left leg resting elevated on a collection of sodden towels and jackets, a nasty purple bruise spreading across the expanse of his foot and up his ankle and a slightly misshapen form to it as a whole.
It was pretty bad.
There’s a short shared glance between Eddie and Hen as they silently agree on the extent of his injury, and Hen kneels down towards him. “Alright, what’s your name sir?” She presses her fingers gingerly to the affected area and earns an immediate groan from the man.
“Antony—” He hisses his name through his teeth from the pain, and several of you collectively wince at the sight.
“Alright Antony, my name’s Hen, and this is Eddie, we’re gonna get you out of here and to a hosptial okay?” Hen gestures to Eddie behind her, and you take a second to furrow your eyebrows at the familiarity of the names. Then you catch the number of their uniform helmets. 118.
That meant Buck was here somewhere. He had to be.
“Please—” He lets out another pained groan as Hen instructs Eddie over to Antony’s other side to get him off the floor.
“How many of you are up here? Is anyone else injured?” Hen’s eyes scan the group for a quick head count, but someone beats her to it.
“There’s twelve of us,” Her voice is meek and almost unstable as she speaks, “There was thirteen but James… he…” She trails off like she knows she won’t be able to finish the sentence, and the intonation is enough for Hen to know what she’s implying.
“Alright…” Hen sighs softly as the groups demeanour dims slightly at the mention of James, and how everyone seems to huddle just that little bit closer together as if to comfort each other in their shared grief. “Can all of you swim?”
“We’ll be fine,” You answer her question with a small nod.
“Okay,” Hen returns your nod with her own before turning her gaze away from you and the group. “Eddie,”
“Got it,” He doesn’t even have to be asked before he’s tugging Antony’s weight over his shoulder to carry him, readying for the journey back down the stairs and hopefully safely out of the building.
The universe had other plans.
“Cap—” You can recognise Buck’s voice immediately, even with all of the radio distortion. “I found— he had— live electricity—”
It’s like a flip switches in Hen and Eddie’s brains at the new information.
“Electricity? That’s bad isn’t it? That’s gotta be bad are we gonna—”
“Nothing is going to happen to anyone.” Hen interrupts the girl’s anxious rambling with a raise of her hand. “Does this building have a rooftop?”
“Yeah uh, it’s— there’s a ladder over here,” One of the male members of the group, one of the employees, leads Hen towards the rooftop fire escape, pulling on the ladder until it collides with the floor. It’s locked though, only the owner has a key,”
“You locked the fire escape?” Eddie sounds more than a little exasperated at the news.
“I don’t know man I just work here—”
“Okay.” Hen interrupts once more, speaking into her radio. “Cap, we’ve got a rooftop exit, you need to get up here.”
“Copy— up now—” The radio continues to glitch on it’s transmission, but it sounds as though the message was properly received.
Getting the hatch open was not as easy, although with more than a little bit of teamwork and a twenty-five pound weight the group managed to force it from it’s hinges and climb everyone up onto the roof and out of any direct danger for the time being.
It was a momentary breath of relief, and the group seemed to agree as everyone practically collapsed in a heap now that the rush of adrenaline was wearing off. Although Eddie and Hen didn’t waste a minute as they set up Antony comfortably against one of the walls and began examining the rest of the group.
“Can you follow this light for me?” Hen holds up a penlight in front of your face, eyes following yours to judge your reactions and your pupillary response.
“I’m really okay, you should spend your time working on the people who really need you,” You follow her instructions even whilst trying to dissuade her gently, and she gives you a sharp shake of her head.
“Everyone’s important sweetheart, I’m just making sure you haven’t got any hidden injuries at even you don’t know about,” She clicks off her pen light once she’s satisfied, and then gives you a small pat on your shoulder before looking past you with an expression of relief on her face.
You follow her gaze yourself to be met with three other firefighters from the 118, presumably those from the first floor, and you don’t so much as have time to even register their faces in your mind before you’re being picked up into one of their arms and held in an almost bone-crushing hug.
“Thank god you’re okay—” You wouldn’t have even had to have heard his voice to know your proxy kidnapper was Buck, but hearing him is more than relieving for the small anxious part of your brain that was scared to death over his safety.
“I’m fine I’m fine—” Your words are echoed by a small laugh as your feet touch the floor again, and the two of you carefully peel yourselves from each other in your joined dampened state. “Are you okay?”
The two of you are caught up in your emotions enough that you essentially completely ignore the presence of the rest of Buck’s coworkers, oblivious to the looks they were giving you—and each other— in the process.
“I’m fine,” Buck nods as he pulls off his helmet, and you finally get a proper look at his face, dirty and soaked and so unbelievably kissable that you really can’t help yourself.
It’s what calls your attention back to the fact that there are indeed other people present, spurred by a short whistle from Chimney that leaves the two of you pulling away with flustered expressions.
“Uh—” Buck clears his throat into his elbow, using his free arm to pull you carefully against his side. “Guys, this is—”
“An absolute angel? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you properly,” Hen interrupts Buck’s introduction of you to reach out to you herself, her tone full of enthusiasm. “Buck does not stop taking about you,”
“Seriously, it’s 24/7,” Chimney adds on to Hen’s declaration with a determined gesture of his hand, and you don’t know whether to be flattered or embarrassed by the attention.
You’d been looking forward to meeting the team that Buck called family, truly, but you were not expecting to meet them like this.
You were absolutely drenched in flood water, probably covered in dirt, and most definitely looked like you’d been dragged through somebodies hedge.
Buck looks more proud than anything, and gives your side a small squeeze as he introduces you to everyone. “Hen and Chim,” The pair give you enthusiastic smiles, “That’s Eddie over there,” Eddie sticks his hand up in a makeshift wave as he focuses on properly wrapping Antony’s ankle with what’s available. “And this is Bobby,”
“It’s really a pleasure,” Bobby holds his right hand out to you, and you shake it politely, lips pressed into an almost nervous smile.
“It’s great to meet you all, Buck has told me a lot about all of you,” You let out a small, almost pathetic laugh at the end of your sentence. “I’m sorry we’re meeting like this,”
Hen waves you off with her hand and a laugh of her own. “Trust me, weirder things have happened,”
“Oh 100%,” Chimney nods in conjunction with Hen’s statement. “Welcome to the family,”
You give another small laugh and a “thank you,” as you settle yourself against Buck’s side, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head a with a content smile.
This might not have been the way he wanted you to meet the team, but it was perfectly unusual in its own way. And it was silently agreed that you were a perfect fit.
“So, uh, how are we getting down from here?” You turn your head over your shoulder to look over the edge of the roof, and the still high floods that covered most of the fire engine parked on the road.
“Uh…”
153 notes · View notes
heiayen · 2 days
Text
gently wipe the sorrow off my life, i dream scaramouche x gn!reader
summary: "you didn’t know what happened, why it happened and that was breaking your heart, cutting it open, leaving burning pain in your chest, where once flowers of love bloomed." you're surprised and completely heartbroken when your lover, kunikuzushi, suddenly disappears without a trace. you think it's the end of the world, with your heart open and bleeding but soon you discover, that there is still happiness waiting for you.
tags: based on the prompt "there’ll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you", scara's real name used, modern au (from highschool to college), scara basically pulls an irminsul but why? blame dottore angst/bittersweet, [name] is very much going through it </3 title name taken from the honkai star rail song "if i can stop one heart from breaking". not proofread
notes: hi. i come back with angst! written for @thexianzhoujade's personal memoires event and truthfully i kinda hate this fic HAJAHS but this is fine i am not fine blah blah blah yippee. i forgot how to write scara so sorry if this fic is kinda ooc but yeahhh have fun enjoy !! <3 as if anyone is going to enjoy angst LMAO
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“Come on, it’s just one photo and besides, we barely have pictures of us…”
“...just one, fine. Get in here.”
A part of you wished you had taken more pictures with him. Pictures from dates in the blooming parks, from hangouts with your friends after school, from spending time together at his place, something to fill up the empty photo album you found hidden in your room. You filled only a few pages, with a few pictures of you and Kunikuzushi, of you taken by your friends, of your family during holidays, pictures of you and your friends, his friends, a picture of him you took when he didn’t see– the one you considered putting in your wallet, laughing how you’d look like a spouse missing their husband. 
(You counted exactly six photos of him in your album, compared to the twenty or so with others. Barely a quarter, not even a half, barely a page and a half of the album.)
You moved your fingers over one of them, the one you took after graduation– laughing with your friends, posing at the camera, tightly holding his hand, and tugging him closer, and wondered.
Did it have to end like this? If you only knew what was happening, would you somehow fix it in time?
Things were… nice, before. Being with him was nice, even if his personality sometimes made you tug at your hair in annoyance. But you found a common language and spoke in it till the very end, sharing your joy and sadness, annoyance and anger, silent tears and gentle fluttering in your chests. 
When you first met Kunikuzushi in school, you had your opinions about him– he wasn’t the nicest, wasn’t talking with many other students, and seemingly valued his time alone more than with someone. You understood it, some people simply weren’t the social butterflies but it became a problem when, by some unlucky charm (at least, you thought it was unlucky then), you ended up together to work on a project. You didn’t know him and your teacher decided to pair you by herself, saying how she wanted her students to interact more with each other. It seemed like a terrible idea at first.
(You rolled your eyes, giving a look to your friend. You really didn’t entertain this idea– to do a big project with someone other than your friend? You dealt with enough shitty groupmates leaving you on read or delivered in your life, and that was for small projects! What if you got someone as shitty as them? You shuddered at the thought alone.)
But, oh, how wrong you were. You didn’t expect to befriend that guy, and yet a few months in, Kunikuzushi became your best friend, and a year later– your lover. 
You remembered that love confession like yesterday; a little awkward, he jumbled over his words and you said something stupid in return, laughing awkwardly at yourself and almost getting up from that bench and marching back home. It was late, the bench in the park illuminated by the streetlight. A part of you was sure he planned for the confession to look different, yet whatever his ideal plan was, you wouldn’t exchange what you got for it. 
He walked you back home, you remembered, holding your hand.
To say you were happy was an understatement. Something bloomed in your chest with every day spent together with him, the little affections between you warming your heart and cheeks, and every morning seemed… a little brighter. It wasn’t wake up, get dressed, go to school, spend majority of your day studying, sleep, anymore.
Wake up, reply to Kunikuzushi’s late night message he sent. Get dressed and don’t forget about that chain necklace with a pendant he gave you for your birthday (you were matching, of course you were matching). Go to school and spend the day with your friends, with Kunikuzushi, with his friends (although you weren’t sure if that ginger guy was really his friend, but…). Spend the rest of your day studying, texting, and sometimes hanging out if you had free time (which turned into weekly hangouts with all your friends and… sometimes, more than once a week, just you and Kunikuzushi). Text him goodnight and smile at his, although short, reply back. Sleep. 
You hoped it would stay like this… for longer. For as long as possible, just living in this bliss, being happy and not alone, with people you loved and who loved you back, some even more than others.
(Selfishly, you wanted that to last forever. Forever the high school student with no worries other than passing exams and doing your homework on time. Forever with your friends, spending weekends with them, having fun and not caring about anything else. Was it selfish to want to be happy forever?)
Kunikuzushi was here with you for all your problems, even if, truthfully, he wasn’t the best at solving them, and neither he was good at words. But he was still here, offering you support and letting you talk about what annoyed you, what made you sad and sometimes, he still would try to comfort you, loudly agreeing with your complaints, (lovingly) threatening to beat someone up if they were an asshole to you, telling you to not worry. It wasn’t the end yet. 
His presence alone helped you manage through harder days– it was better to be with someone after all, rather than spend your days wallowing in sadness alone, with only the walls willing to listen. 
(You offered him help, too. Quietly sitting and listening to his rants about his mother, squeezing his hand and tugging him closer to you– or simply being next to him, when touch was something unwanted.)
When graduation came, in bittersweet tears you promised your friends (and Kunikuzushi, of course) to still be in touch with them, and never leave them alone just because you weren’t students from the same class anymore. That didn’t change anything, no.
The summer vacation you spent mostly with your friends, hanging out and enjoying the warm, summer weather. So many trips, so many walks with Kunikuzushi and dates– oh, that picnic you two went on one day… it started raining at one point (the weather reports lied to you, it seemed) and you only had a blanket to cover yourself from the rain. How funny it was, how much you wished you could get the chance to do it again, with him–
You sighed, closing the album. Sometime before the summer’s end, right before the start of college, you noticed… changes in Kunikuzushi’s behavior. He still was your lover, caring about you in his own ways, he still was the man you loved, but something seemed to always bug him. Something seemed to sit on his shoulders, heavy. You always asked him if he was okay because yes, yes, you noticed his worse mood, noticed all the little things he tried to hide and you were worried, really worried, and–
And yet, you never got a proper answer. Always to not worry, that nothing was wrong, and you were tired of that, maybe if you, at least this once, pressed him for answers, during that summer night you called a date–
Maybe you would know why he suddenly disappeared without a trace.
The many messages you sent, the many unanswered calls– you asked your friends around, his friends, and were greeted with radio silence in answer. You didn’t know what happened, why it happened and that was breaking your heart, cutting it open, leaving burning pain in your chest, where once flowers of love bloomed.
(These flowers would never truly burn, you feared. Some would still leave, polluting your heart and making it harder to breathe.)
What was once beautiful turned into a burden, far too heavy to carry alone. There was so much stress on your plate– because what if something happened to him? What if someone did something to him, what if there was something you could do to change it? Why were you so distracted throughout the day? Why was it hard to get up in the morning, why the only thing you wanted to do was to wait at your phone, with hopes of seeing at least a single message from him? Where went your motivation to study, to do well in college as you promised yourself?
Where was he? What happened? Could you change it?
Were you at fault?
(No, of course you weren’t. You did everything in your power, but it just wasn’t enough. None of this was your fault.)
Were you alone in it?
…no, you weren’t. It felt like you were, especially at first; with new people around you, your friends offering you support but ultimately being busy, you felt alone. Terribly so, loneliness gnawing at your soul all the time, leaving the icy cold feeling in its wake. 
But life forced you to get up from that pit, whether you wanted that or not. You couldn’t fail your major, not when you worked so hard to get into it in the first place. And neither you wanted to completely cut off your friends, so you started replying to their texts more. You’ve met new people, too, and made new friendships.
Things were getting back on track after, you thought that they wouldn’t. You pulled yourself up with your own strength, with your friends cheering for you from the distance, their cheers putting a smile on your face. 
(Younger you thought that if you ever were to break up with Kunikuzushi, the world would simply… end. You ignored that thought creeping into your mind, waved it away, pushed it deep at the bottom of your mind. It wouldn’t happen.)
Now, as you looked at the pictures, you still felt a sharp pang in your chest. You missed him, yes, and you still thought about the days you spent together with him, but they no longer brought you back into that darkness you once experienced.
They were a bittersweet memory now. Ones, you would cherish till the end, gently putting them on the shelf with new, happy memories. 
You hummed to yourself in thought, tapping at the cover of the album with your nail. Maybe instead of pondering how you should take more photos of the past, maybe you should take more of the future? Fill the album up with new photos of yourself, your friends, random things that you found pretty and worth remembering. 
Your phone threw you out of the thinking, the loud noise of the ringtone filling up the room. Right, you were supposed to meet up with your friends in an hour and here you were, going through your old stuff and procrastinating the shower. 
You put the album away and picked up your phone. A smile tugged at your lips hearing the overjoyed voice of your friend, telling you how excited they are to meet with you again (your last hangout was two weeks ago!) and that they already left.
You looked back at the album.
With today, you’d start filling it up with new memories of your happiness.
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ceruleancattail · 23 hours
Note
*slams into your inbox and tosses this link down*
https://www.tumblr.com/ceruleancattail/748052645275631616/bsjudhdhsjisixjxjejeidkjx-ooh-ym-god-oh-my-god
EXCUSE ME??????? CERU????? GOOD GENTLEPERSON*?????
This!! That!! It!!
I like. <3
Can I has some more? 🥺
You said specific people so… I honestly can’t decide between Ace and Cater because I think both of their reactions would be ADORABLE in this situation 😭 And no, I didn’t just make Cater one of the options because it’s you.
So… writer’s choice! 💜
*I don’t know a gender neutral version of good sir/good lady so this is the best I could come up with helpppppp 💀💀💀
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA gentle person is a vibe nvm I’ll take it lolololol- ANYWAYS OOPS SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY LOLOLOL I PROMISE I WAS WORKING ON IT- also im sure cater is just there for no reason at all… yeah… I believe that… yeah….
Summoned for… Cuddles?
Mystic AU
Kitsune Ace x reader, Kitsune Cater x reader
Ace never likes to appear directly in front of you. It’s an annoying trait of his, really. As a prankster, he loves having you on your toes, glancing around the room all in a fluster. Before he pops into your blind spot, poking you playfully in the cheek. It’s like a little game he loves to play. Hide and seek, but he’s assured he’ll always win. Part of you feels like he craves the attention his antics bring him.
Fine, two can play this game.
Whispering his name, you sit yourself down, back against the wall. Gaze flickering from left to right, wary for any tell-tale sign of Ace. Your shoulders were hunched, ready to pounce whenever and wherever. Despite your caution, you allowed yourself one satisfied huff.
Let this sly fox try to catch you off guard now.
Yet you made one fatal mistake. You were so preoccupied with the area you could see, you never considered another angle: above.
You felt something soft graze against your cheek, before a scarlet mop of hair dropped into your vision. Widening your eyes in shock, your gaze met a pair of crimson irises, narrowed in a dastardly smugness. Ace Trapola, your familiar. Hanging from mid air, a boyish grin stretched across his lips. Lowering a hand, he taps the very tip of your nose playfully, snickering all the while.
“Nice try, Master. But as I always say, the stories always have one sly fox…”
Before he could complete your sentence, you rushed forward. Pressing your lips into his, feeling the warmth of Ace’s breath waft onto it. Face flushed bright red, you give him a quick little peck on the lips, before pulling away immediately.
In the midst of all your embarrassment, you mustered up the most confident smile you could, before grinning right back at Ace.
“Who’s the dumb bunny now, huh?”
For a moment, Ace’s face froze. Before a fiery scarlet spread across his face, a raging inferno. He opens his mouth, only for the words to come out in stutters and mutters. It takes a few shaky breaths for Ace to finally regain some illusion of normalcy, yet the pink on his cheeks lingered.
His fingers grazed the bottom of your chin, stroking the curve of it ever so softly. Tenderly, the touch of a lover’s gentle hands. Ace lowers himself to your position, before he flashes you another fanged smirk:
“Now, I’m not too sure about that, Master.
I think I need another kiss to decide, yeah?”
Cater doesn’t usually need to be summoned. He seems rather content tagging around behind you, grinning away like a cunning fox. Compared to the others from the Heartsabyul clan, he seems the most in touch with modern day society.
At least, he uses your phone with more skill than you ever will. Stretching the phone, his tails wrapping around your waist, dragging you into frame whenever he can. Cater looks at you expectedly after every shot, waiting for your thoughts on them. If you say they’re nice, he’s beaming away for the rest of the day, his smile as radiant as any diamond in this world.
Cater’s fond of taking photos, and he shows you each and every one. You’re not too sure why, but there was something endearing about the passion he puts into every shot. Sometimes, he’ll travel insanely far just for one photo. You admire that determination, of course.
Just that…. Sometimes you feel lonely.
Pressing your hand into the floor, you whisper his name. Only to have something warm curl under your chin, gently coaxing it upwards ever so slightly. You came face to face with your familiar’s ever so familiar smiling face, shining right at you.
It wasn’t blindingly bright, like the sun’s harsh golden rays. No, it was the quiet radiance of the moon, gently illuminating the night. A soft, calming sort of aura that immediately comforting your pinning soul.
Cater drops into a squat, tilting his head ever so slightly to the left inquiringly. His eyes follow, flopping over to the left as well. A rather comical sight… yet it still was adorable, though.
“What have ya’ called me for, Master? Did you miss me? Just kidding-“
Cupping his cheek with your hand, you hold him tenderly, a small smile slipping across your lips.
“Yes. I did miss you, Cater.”
He blinks, surprised. Before he lets out a soft chuckle, his gaze softening. His hand gently presses into the back of your palm, holding it in place. Nuzzling into your hand, Cater heaves a sigh of relief. Melting into the warmth of your very touch.
“I missed you too, master dear .
Very, very much.”
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Text
Toji meeting your parents
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Toji meeting your parents
He didn't want to meet your parents, he didn't even want to think about it.
Just like any kind of boyfriend, He felt tensed and nervous about it.
Ever since you brought that topic, he kept telling you he was busy with missions.
He made sure that his missions collided with the days your parents either visit or when you bring up him meeting your parents.
He knew for sure your parents would never like him, he's a old man who gambles and kills people. AND he lives in the streets before he moved in with you into your apartment.
After some time you noticed that Toji had really become avoidant about the topic of meeting your parents, you wanted to talk to him.
"Toji, Can we talk?" You spoke as he froze in his spot, It can only mean one thing to Toji.
And that is headaches, He hates talks like these it stresses him out.
He sighed as he followed you to the bedroom.
"Toji-" "Yeah, I don't wanna meet em." He interrupeted you.
"Why?" You asked, "You know why." He replied.
You sighed, "Don't be like that Toji"
"But, I am like this." He said
"Toji, I'm the one with you, not my parents I love you for who you are. The reason why I want to introduce you to them is because, I want my parents to meet the man I love. And even if they don't like you, I do and I don't care what they say, If it makes you uncomfortable I understand it, I won't force you." You said as you hugged him.
"No one can stop me from loving you." You whispered to him as you kissed him goodnight.
After that talk Toji stayed awake that entire night thinking about your words, it gave him a huge headache.
No one, had accepted him for who he is except you and his ex wife. He knew he was hard to love, especially since he doesn't know how to recieprocate any kinds of feelings except anger and contempt.
He still doesn't know how to stomach having a relationship with you.
But your words got him thinking, after a few weeks, he had thought about it.
"I'll do it." He spoke while he was eating his breakfast.
"Do what?" You questioned him as you think of the things he might mean, then it hits you.
"You'll meet my parents?" You smiled in glee.
"Yeah, don't expect me to be nice and shit, or them to like me. Because clearly you know who I am." He said as he continues to eat.
The day came, where he's about to meet your parents.
He tried fixing himself, he bathed, brushed his teeth, changed into acceptable clothes and then he hid his weapons.
He was anxiously waiting inside your apartment feeling tensed, sweating.
"Fuck this is harder than killing Special grade curses and sorcerers." he grumbles as he heard the door knob open.
He felt his heart sank as he stood up walking to the door as you introduced your parents he stood quiet.
You all sat down at the dining table as your parents introduced themselves.
"Toji Fushiguro..." He introduced himself
Your parents didn't think much about it, since you already told them about him so your parents were adjusting in this case.
"So Toji, I'm happy you've met our daughter, we've never thought she'd find someone." Your mother joked.
"She was rotting on our basement for long as I've remembered" Your Father added.
"Mama! Papa!" You yelled
"What? It's true." Your mom said as you all laughed.
Your parents didn't need to know anything more about Toji. They already heard alot from you.
You were already old enough to make your own decisions and they're just there to guide you whenever you need them.
Toji was shocked that your parents weren't disgusted at him.
Your parents told stories about you to Toji so Toji would ease himself with them.
Which ends up you being embarrassed, you knew that Toji would tease you all about it later. But you were happy that you noticed that Toji was being at ease.
You stood up and excused yourself at the bathroom.
Toji knew that there might be a confrontation in this period, since you weren't here anymore.
"Toji let me be frank, I don't know who you are or where you came from. All I know is that you make our child happy, that's what matters, but hurt her you'll regret it I promise you that." Your Father said
After that you came back.
The meeting went well as you exhaled sitting on the living room clearly tired.
"I hope they didn't give you a hard time." You said as you looked at him.
"It went better than I expected." Toji said
"Why do you think so?" You curiously asked him.
"Met my ex wife's parents, didn't go well. Her parents asked lots of shit. They found out that I'm a piece of garbage not fit for their daughter. They wanted us to break up." He said as he was pouring water on a glass.
To be honest, it also went unexpected on your side as well. Usually your parents would also interrogate.
But you knew they'd understand you and your decisions because you were already an adult and you were thankful for that.
But it was probably because you've already told your parents about him.
*Flash back*
"Mom, I love him. I know you think that he isn't good for me, But I don't care I'm a grown adult who can make her own decisions."
*End of Flash back*
You and your parents argued alot about Toji that made you really stressed out that you had to drink meds.
But you didn't care, you'll stand your ground.
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oddballwriter · 2 days
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The Second
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Summary: After going on an unplanned adventure with your best friend and crush, his host, and his host's wife to stop the end of the world, and ending up in an accidental love triangle... square...whatever shape it is, you go back to your hometown to clear your mind. It's a great success for you, helping you reconnect with your childhood friend and even bring him back to continue the fun and show him your life in London. But unbeknownst to you, it seems like it might just cause a rift that is born on one side of the triangle.
Warnings: Love triangle and unrequited feelings. The reader is referred to using she/her. Angst, it's soft but it's there. Third-wheeling. I can't think of anything else but I feel like there's more, if there is just tell me. 
Author’s Snip: This is sort of a pilot for a series idea that I have that involves all kinds of love shape situations, rivalry, and dragging friends into all kinds of avatar shenanigans on accident. So if you guys like this, let me know so that I can prep and have it ready for writing and planning.
Notes: This is not proofread before posting, if there are errors blame Grammarly for not catching it. I might fix them later.  
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
Word Count: 2,892
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Tag List: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction
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What an adventure you just went on. It all feels so unreal when you even try and think about it. Even as you stare up at the ceiling above your bed you find it hard to really digest fully.
Your good friend Steven turned out to be an alter for a person with DID who's named Marc Spector, whom you had not met, ever, throughout you and Steven's close friendship. In which Marc is the avatar and fist of justice for the Egyptian god Khonshu and was living his life while Steven was not fronting, unbeknownst to Steven, and has been playing a game of keep-away with a cult and their leader for a scarab. And you ended up finding all that out when some members of the cult kidnapped you to intimidate Steven and Marc. By the way, Marc is married and has been married, to a woman named Layla. And so you had to go on this whole adventure with all three of them to stop the end of the world, or something, nearly dying on several occasions, and now it's done apparently. Crisis averted. Also, there is a fucking third one.
You're sure that if you told someone outside of your journal and your new group of friends about this, then you would be thrown into a psychiatric hospital in record time.
And that isn't even mentioning all the complicated feelings you're having right now about the love triangle, that only you are aware of. Because of course, you're in a love triangle that the two other people have no idea exists. It's complicated. It was a little complicated at the start, and now it's so much more complicated because now there's another person involved.
Scratch that, four people involved. This is a love square.
Fuck it, now that Jake's here it might actually be a love pentagon now!
Either way, it all has to do with your feelings towards Steven. You had developed them pretty early on in your friendship with Steven because you just so happened to fall into your type. Dork, sweet, funny, and polite guys were your weakness. You tried to fight them off, not wanting to ruin the friendship that you honestly valued with Steven. But he just had this aura and energy that had your heart like a moth to a flame. Some might call it a slow burn. You'd say that it all was fast. But the warmth went to heat that got painful when you found out about Marc and Layla, and thus Steven and Layla.
You're not mad at Layla. Of course not! Why would you? She was there first, technically. It feels bad to say that. Both because you'd have to try and snuff out the feelings that you have, but also because it sounds wrong. It sounds like Steven's an object to be won instead of a person with his own thoughts and feelings. And you never once saw him like that. He was Steven. Nice, sweet, funny Steven.
You knew you needed to move on, even if it hurt. You know you don't have the guts and nerve to be 'the other person' even if you got the chance to be. It would be disrespectful to Layla, and Layla's a great woman. You settle on going back home, to your hometown, to see family and friends in hopes that it'll distract you, maybe even help you get over it if you're lucky. You call up your family who gladly accept the idea and will set up the room that you'll stay in by the time you get there. With that, you pack your bags, get ready for the trip, and head off.
You don't tell Steven that you're leaving to anywhere at first until you're just about to leave, figuring that if he tries to visit you and you're not there he'll assume someone else has kidnapped you and panic. You just send him a simple "As a heads up I'll be out of town for a while. I need a break.", at some point in your trip heading towards your hometown he texts you back with a single "Okay. Sounds nice.".
As it turns out, going around old loved ones really does help your blues. Matter of fact it seems like everyone from your life here heard the news that you'd be spending a few weeks in town and all got together to see you. Your uncle and dad actually threw a little family cookout so that everyone can come say hi to you.
Everyone had questions for you. What's London like? What have you been doing? How's life going over there?
Of course, you can't tell them about all the recent events and you also don't want to ruin your good mood by talking about Steven like you probably would have if this were a trip not spawned from him, in a sense. Overall, everyone's just happy you're back regardless.
You meet a really old face amidst the crowd of family and friends who've assembled. Samson. Sammy. God, you'd know his face anywhere and you know he'd know yours too. You and Sammy have been best friends since diapers. Your moms were friends. Apparently, the story goes that your mom and dad were at the courthouse waiting in line to sign the marriage papers and so were Sammy's mom and dad. Your mothers started talking and it turns out they have a lot in common. By the time both parties left the courthouse, they were in each other's weddings, to which they then found out that they both would be moving into the same area to settle down. Your moms swear that you and Sammy being close in age was just a coincidence but you always joked that it wasn't.
Sammy is hard to put into words. How do you describe the person who's been your best friend since both of you were coloring with crayons and all the way to high school graduations and beyond? The number one person you would talk to about things outside of your parents and through all of the other friends you've both had throughout your lives, the one that has always been the same. Sammy is just Sammy to you, in the most sincere way possible.
After seeing each other at the cookout you catch up on just about everything. What you've been up to, any life milestones you've gotten to while apart. You tell him about London and he tells you about his life here in town. Sammy's gotten up to a few things, had a few girlfriends, and apparently, he's developed his own business. Turns out he's a handyman and locksmith now and makes great money. Gets to make his own hours, so he says. Sammy teases you a bit and asks if you've been collecting British boyfriends. You know it's just a tease but it plucks at the still tender parts of your heart a little. You brush it off and say no.
"No?" Sammy questions, "Come on. Someone like you over there? You're kidding me. You've got to have some guys waiting like a dog for you to come back." he says. You decide to play along in the banter.
"Maybe I do. What of it, Sam-I-Am." you shrug, pretending like he's trying to compete and also pulling out old childhood nicknames. Sammy cringes and the nickname, "Oof, not the Sam-I-Am from kindergarten. You know only my dad called me that until you said it in class. Then everyone started calling me that till fifth grade." Sammy laughs. "Not you doing your shitty British accents when I said I had a thing for British boys back in seventh grade." you reference and make a call back of your own. "It made you laugh and that was my goal." Sammy playfully defended.
For a good half of your stay, Sammy was there, like always, and you would be talking about the old days. Referencing various moments and laughing or cringing together. It felt so nostalgic and good to just feel that bond again, have someone who knows all your little inside jokes and references because they were there when it was formed, and you both didn't want it to stop.
So when the day that you were to go back to London you threw out the idea that Sammy come back with you and continue the fun there. Show him what you've been doing and show him the little life you've created there.
Even though you live in a one-bedroom apartment you managed to accommodate your guest pretty well. You always knew that the pull-out bed extension of your couch that you bought second-hand would have a use someday. You two settled on rules and bases, along with where various things are in case they're needed.
After that, it was just more talking that made the time go by so fast and other things seem so minuscule. You hadn't really paid attention to the fact that you had a brief text conversation with Steven when you got back basically just telling him that you were back and what you're up to right now. It wasn't until he texted you something that sort of snapped you out of it.
You: I'm not really doing anything but my friend came back with me and will be here for a bit.
Steven: Oh that's nice
Steven: Can I meet them maybe?
You weren't sure how long you spent looking at that message, but it was long enough that Sammy noticed. "Something wrong?" he asks. "No," you reply, "Just one of my friends. He says he wants to meet you... if you're okay with that," you explain but hesitate slightly at the end, not really liking the sound of having Steven over right now after being able to get him off your mind. "Sure! I'd love to meet one of your friends here." Sammy responds, "If that's alright with you of course." he adds.
You take a second to weigh it out in your mind. On one hand, having the guy that you have feelings for over after you went on a whole vacation partially because he doesn't feel that way towards you doesn't sound like the best idea. But maybe having Sammy here will reduce that feeling of awkwardness since it can just be having your friends meet each other.
Taking the gamble, you tell Steven that he's good to come over.
The next few minutes are spent continuing to talk to Sammy, making jokes and having banter. When you hear the knock at your door you and a text from Steven that announces that he's arrived. You get up from the couch and make your way to the door, unlocking it and opening it up. And there he is, smiling at you and giving you his usual polite little "hello". You greet him back before stepping out of the way so that he can come in.
Sammy gets up from his seat on the couch and comes to shake Steven's hand. You see Steven hesitate briefly and sort of freeze up before taking the hand shake. You step in between them.
"Steven, this is my childhood friend, Samson. Samson, this is my friend Steven." you introduce them to each other and gesture to them respectively. "Nice to meet you!" Sammy comments. "Likewise," Steven responds.
You all take a seat, you and Sammy back on the couch while Steven takes a chair from your little dining table set. Sammy and Steven have some good small talk back and forth, talking the usual stuff when you meet new people. You can see Steven being a little fidgety, picking at his sweater sleeve, nodding along but having a small crease between his brows. All things that he does when he's nervous or concerned with something, you take it as Steven being shy about meeting and talking to new people like he usually is. You take it upon yourself to sort of help him by bringing up subjects that you know he's good at talking about.
"Steven loves Ancient Egypt and mythos. He knows pretty much everything," you mention. Sammy raises his brows in interest, "Really?" he questions. "Oh yeah," Steven confirms, "I would have made a bloody good tour guide if my superior wasn't out to get me." Steven remarks. You see Sammy hold back a laugh in the corner of your vision, you turn to him and light-heartedly scold him with a "Stop it.". Sammy looks towards you, his smile growing to a shit-eating grin. "Stop it," you repeat, "Behave. I told you not to laugh," you say as you struggle to keep your own laughter in. "He said the thing." Sammy squeaks out before letting a few laughs leave him. You lean in and bap him on the shoulder playfully, "Stop," you warn as you give him a few baps.
Steven lets out a small laugh that only you can tell is his fake trying-to-pretend-I-get-it laugh. "I'm sorry, Steven." you apologize, "Not even 24 hours in and he doesn't know how to act," you say as you look back to Sammy and give him a playful shake. "I'm sorry." Sammy says to Steven, "There's an inside joke to it I swear." he says.
"What's the joke?" Steven inquires. Your face drops, knowing what Sammy is going to say. "Don't you dare," you warn Sammy as you try to cover his mouth, but Sammy already knew that you are going to stop him and is ready to block your hand. You both spend a few seconds lightly wrestling as you try to cover his mouth and he blocks you in some way. "It has something to do with her-" Sammy says before you interrupt him with a "No!" in objection, "British boyfriend!" Sammy announces. "I don't have a British boyfriend!" you object through laughs as you hit him with a couch pillow. You both spend a few moments laughing. When you finally calm down you find Steven looking at the two of you like you've grown and extra head.
You sigh and look to Sammy, "Why don't you explain 'British boyfriend' to him since you want to talk about it so much?". "Okay, okay," Sammy submits. "This one," Sammy says pointing at you, "Had a thing for this one kid who was visiting family for the summer in our home neighborhood back in seventh grade, or seventh year, whatever it's called here. And so we have this joke that he was her British boyfriend. And I used to do a really bad accent to make her laugh and get all embarrassed.", Sammy looks at you and reassures, "I'm not going to do it, don't worry.".
The conversation goes on but you and Sammy can't help but say more jokes that you then need to explain to Steven, which leads to other stories and laughing fits between the two of you. You try to do the same with Steven in case he references something between the two of you, but you find that Steven just seems to sit there and listen, nodding along. You want to try and prompt something but at some point, you're able to sense this weird tension in the air whenever you do.
You aren't too sure what to do. You don't want to shoo Steven out since you've always said that Steven was always welcomed at your place, but the atmosphere is strange between the two of you for some reason. It isn't until Sammy gives something that would get the job done.
"You know, it's really nice to meet you, Steven. But I think the traveling is starting to catch up with me." Sammy says as he stretches his arms out. "Oh, no worry. I was actually thinking of getting out of your hair. You know..." Steven responds, "Since you guys probably had to get out early to get back here." he clarifies. Steven was already getting up to leave by the time he even started talking.
Sammy and you get up also, and you go in for the usual goodbye hug that you and Steven do when parting ways, Sammy shakes Steven's hand again and says his goodbyes.
Once Steven leaves, you and Sammy set up the couch so that Sammy can nap for a bit. You head to your room so that you can take one for yourself and reflect on the meeting. You still have a bit of that feeling of weird tension but figure that maybe Steven wasn't prepared for all the energy that you and Sammy created and all the inside jokes. Maybe a second get-together could help with that. After all, it might be great to have two best friends also be best friends with each other.
Meanwhile, Steven walks back, sitting in his thoughts quietly as he walks until Marc appears in a reflection along the walk. "What's with the long face?" Marc asks. Steven glances at Marc for a moment, "Nothing, it's just that..." Steven opens up with, "I felt like a bit of a third wheel over there." he admits. Marc shrugs, "Well it is her friend from her hometown, isn't it? I'm sure they'd be all chatty with each other.".
"Yeah, I suppose so." Steven replies, "It just felt a bit... off." Steven remarks.
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cerise-on-top · 2 days
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hi I saw you did a fluff alphabet already for captain Price for some one else but Can I request more letters? you Can pick! sorry for the Bad English and stuff by the way, Its not my first language :)
Hey there! Don't worry, your English is fine! And sure I can :>
Fluff Alphabet for Price 2
E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
Price is definitely the more dominant person in your relationship. Sure, he could always just sit back and let you do things, but he’s just so used to taking the wheel at his job that he just subconsciously does it at home and with you as well. Will always choose where to go to eat, will always help you in the bath with washing your back and whatnot, will often tell you what he wants you to do. In his case, though, he will reward you for listening to him. For example, he’ll give you a kiss on your forehead, cuddle with you on the couch or try to make your favorite food. He actually does enjoy being the more dominant person in your relationship.
J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?
Kind of? He trusts you enough to know that you mean no harm when you’re getting friendly with someone else, most of the time you’re just being polite. So, usually he has no problem ignoring it. But if he’s had a bad day and just wants to have you around him, with your attention solely on him, then he’ll get jealous very easily. Price will become a bit more touchy with you then, putting his arm around your waist, maybe even trying to scare the other person off. Once you’re home you’ll have enough time to get changed into some more comfortable clothes before he just plops down on top of you. Demands you pay attention to him. Scratch his scalp and he’ll calm down more quickly, though.
K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?
He’s not too bad at kissing. There have been plenty of people who have wanted to be with him since he’s a good man. A handsome one too. He’s had a few flings here and there as well, so he’s had his fair share of practice before. Although he’s usually composed when it comes to things like this, he was pretty nervous during your first kiss together. He made it quite obvious that he wanted to kiss you by putting his forehead against yours at first and asking you if you were okay with it. The kiss didn’t last too long, nor was it too intense. It was pleasant and just right. It was the confidence boost he needed to continue kissing you.
L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?
He wouldn’t really beat around the bush too much. If he really likes you then he’ll just make it known. If you reciprocate or just say yes, then that’s great. If you don’t then he’ll just move on. He’s got better things to do than be a lovesick fool, after all. Would ask you to meet up with him at a nice place, maybe even the place you first met if it wasn’t on a mission, and confess to you there. He may know that he shouldn’t really “purchase” you with gifts, but he’ll get you a small gift anyway. Nothing too big, just something small that you can remember him by.
O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?
It’s kind of obvious, actually. Especially to the people, who know him well enough. He becomes touchy with you. It’s not too much, and you could always just ask him to either tone it down or downright stop, but for the time being he will touch you. Just his hand on your arm, on your shoulder or your back. He is a bit touchy with his soldiers too, yes, but just a tad bit more with you. That’s why he doesn’t even notice it until someone points it out to him. His tone is also much gentler with you than it is with others. Plus he’s also more prone to praising you. It’s kind of embarrassing once he notices, but he can’t really correct that behavior either.
U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?
Once you’ve been together for some time, he knows you pretty well. He, too, is a pretty observant man. Plus he loves you, so why wouldn’t he want to watch you like a hawk? Is also pretty good at remembering things, so if you’ve mentioned something a few months, or even years, ago, then he’ll remember. This is a good and bad thing because he sometimes will tease you about it when he feels playful. Price can be a pretty empathetic man, especially towards his loved ones. Sure, he can turn that empathy off if he needs to, but he prefers to feel what you’re feeling so he can help you better.
W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.
If you complain about the stench of him smoking then he’ll actually try to tone it down a little bit. Sure, he likely won’t ever be able to stop entirely, but he’ll smoke a little bit less for you. You expressing concern for his health because of it would actually be a motivator for him to stop entirely. But he really needs it since his job is very demanding and stressful. However, you’re pretty much the only person who gets away with hiding his cigars. Everyone else will get an earful or punished, but not you. You will get an exasperated sigh and a “Love, where did you put them this time?” He will complain to you about how expensive his cigars are and how you shouldn’t waste them like that.
X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?
Yes, Price is a cuddler at heart. I know I said he’s the dominant person in your relationship, but he really doesn’t mind being cuddled either. In fact, he loves it. Doesn’t matter who’s cuddling who, doesn’t matter what position you’re in, he’s at ease as long as he gets to touch you somehow. However, if you’re not into it, then he can tone it down a little bit, he’s a mature adult, after all. Will still want to hold your hand from time to time, though. And he does love kisses as well. Loves to tease you by kissing the corner of your mouth, just so you’ll pout and ask him to kiss you properly. Whenever he feels like sleeping in you can actually get him to get up by promising him kisses. Tell him that sleepyheads get no kissies and he’ll be up fairly quickly.
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rebelwriter99 · 2 days
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Well those were some remarkably accurate predictions!
SPOILERS INCOMING! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
Tantiss did get blown to bits. Everyone did escape. (Because they had to they hadn’t had a big win in more than an entire season to justify it!) And they DID make it an hour long episode! I was so relieved the second I saw the runtime.
But WOW were a lot of things a surprise. Nala Se doing what she did I feel like I should have seen coming. It was a fantastic character arc conclusion for her, especially that line about Kamino. Rampart being there I didn’t see coming, but also a very well earned conclusion for his character (if you’ll take my meaning).
Omega! Honestly the only predictable character on screen at this point. Except perhaps Echo. Of course she released the Zillo beast-that was set up really nicely. Everyone immediately knowing it was her was delightful and probably the only time I remember laughing all episode because boy was it heavy from there.
The Batch themselves and what happened to them were a huge shock all episode. Crosshair finally voicing what I’d known since S1 and became blindingly obvious post S2 was a fantastic moment. I’m so glad it got said out loud, and I’m so glad it was him that said it. They haven’t been Clone Force 99 since the end of S1 E1 and the loss of Crosshair to the Empire. Their success rate on missions has consistently dropped since then, even more so since the loss of Tech. They were a unit, and they’re missing pieces. They’ve never been whole since the fall of the republic, and then had to operate in a galaxy they weren’t trained for. They’re not the same anymore-they needed to own that.
The three heavy duty action scenes the batch were involved in were all callbacks to previous scenes. The hangar stand off-against what are essentially operatives designed to combat them specifically-is a call back to the first appearance of imperial cross. Crosshair sees the operatives and knows they can’t win. He’s unfortunately right. And wow I did not see Crosshair losing his shaking hand coming at all. I understand practically why the writers did it, and I know I’ll be thinking long and hard about it, but I literally screamed out loud when it happened.
I think all of the batch finally understanding and experiencing what Crosshair lived through was important. The batch met their match in Hemlock. Crosshair was never really an enemy in S1, and Rampart was too stupid. To Tarkin, they were a fly in the ointment of the bigger picture. It was nothing personal. He’s Echo and Rex and the rebellions problem-not theirs. But Hemlock? The experimental scientist who wants to own what they hold most dear. Yeah. They needed to really know him. I knew when Wrecker got injured last episode that if they won it would be by the skin of their teeth-and I don’t think a single character bar omega got out unscathed.
The batch’s rescue is perfect. Regs volunteering and going to rescue the defective clones? This really is a new galaxy. We’ve moved on from Cross and “he’s just another reg”. And it’s Omega and Echo returning the favour. The Batch have gone into a research facility to rescue their own and gotten captured for their trouble twice now. (Not including Echos rescue in clone wars-where they avoid capture but get a tad stuck). This was the third attempt in TBB. Still got captured. But it’s Echo and Omega together who get to rescue the people who got them out of their similarly horrible situations. The parallels abound and I loved it!
And that last confrontation. The rain? The shape of the buildings? That exposed platform? This was Kamino all over again. Except this time, however injured, however changed they are, Hunter and Crosshair are together. For Omega. They’ve both failed to stop her being taken by Hemlock before-they’ve both watched a ship fly away with her on board. This is another third attempt. They both get their do over. Except this time they’ve learned to trust eachother, and they’ve been forced to adapt. The clone’s humanity has always been their strength-and this is one of the most perfectly written, perfectly animated scenes in the series. I knew Cross was going to have to make a shot he didn’t want to take. And I knew he’d do it. But Omega telling him what to do, telling him she trusted him not to hurt her, broke me. It was all leading up to this. And that she hugged Cross first. I was crying before this scene. I will have to rewatch and hope I can actually see next time I was sobbing!
And Hemlock got his slightly gruesome end. Thank the FORCE.
And Pabu at the end. You can feel their disbelief that the trauma is over. That they can have peace. And the epilogue is perfect. I wish we’d got to see older cross and wrecker too-but their character arcs were already handled earlier. This is Hunters scene-it was always going to have to be. For him to truly be at peace, he has to feel OK watching her fly away. He’s spent three seasons clinging on-how he’s happy to let go. And Omega gets her choice. That precious thing all the clones are chasing. She got to have a childhood, grow up, and choose.
I’m so hopeful that Omega at least will reappear-especially if she’s hoping to join the rebellion! Maybe she’ll meet Hera again-that would be amazing. (I’m nothing if not a rebels fan)
I know Bad Batch is a series I’ll be coming back to again and again to rewatch, and I know I’ll see new things in it each and every time, but for now-Thank you Clone Force 99. You’ll always be our ‘dad batch’ of deviants. It was a wonderful wild ride.
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another-lost-mc · 3 days
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you are so real with being disappointed on nightbringer cause i feel the same way
Oh, I have complicated feelings about Nightbringer.
(I’ll use a Read More link here because of vague OG S4 discussion.)
I didn’t whale in OG but I was much more willing to spend extra money chasing cards I wanted. I was really motivated to catch up on all the story content too since I didn’t start playing until the later part of the pandemic. I know S3 and S4 aren’t the greatest bits of story-telling ever written but I had hopes for more Celestial Realm content (a visit and maybe Michael appearance) in S5 based on where Simeon’s storyline was heading.
(I usually picture MC traveling to the CR to see Michael in S5, and maybe another visit of new angels to the Devildom in S6 once tensions are resolved.)
Overall I really liked getting involved with the fandom and I started posting fanfics here. I was so happy with my curated little card collection of favs — Lucifer was my original favourite, followed by Simeon, Barbatos, Solomon and Asmo — and exploring the game with my writing.
And then Nightbringer was announced.
After I spent probably too much money collecting all the HDD cards I wanted not long before that.
And the cards weren’t going to be transferable to the new game! ISN’T THAT FUN?! (Solmare logic, probably.)
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I mean, I get it. It’s the nature of gacha games and the motivation is to grow the player base and revenue potential.
Sure, whatever.
And some parts of Nightbringer are fine, while other parts leave me desperately wanting more. Detailed lore that ties into the OG game and characters I care about, more in-depth characterization. Another slow burn love interest would be nice too since NB completely changed the direction of Barb’s development compared to OG S4 (side-eyes Mephisto and Raphael as new potentials). Also, as time goes on, I find myself not really caring who Nightbringer is. Does it even matter anymore? Like…whatever, you do you, buddy. lol
My face if they reveal it’s Barbatos/Solomon/Michael all along:
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Oh, and more ROMANCE? Hello??? The babysitter role and goofy family dynamics are satisfying to a point but then it gets stale. Some of the Devilgrams are boring too, and don’t get me started on the EVENTS. I enjoyed the vampire one last year that sparked a random writing frenzy of vampire AU fics, but so many of the events fall flat for me. Anyone else just use S or A Rank skips to breeze past the story bits because 90% of it is boring as hell? Yeah, same.
It sounds like a lot of complaints, but there’s still more about the game I love or I wouldn’t be here: my favs, most of the artwork, the music! The new Dateables song is so goofy - what are those lyrics? - but they didn’t autotune Simeon to death and he sounds so much better than he did in Question Love (the only song whose remix I like better than the original).
I love the people I’ve met in this fandom and being able to share story ideas and headcanons. It’s so exciting when new lessons and cards are announced because the player base gets invigorated again (even if things fall a little flat upon arrival). I’ve splurged on some merch (official and fan-made) and I love being self-indulgent and commissioning artwork of my favs and MC together.
Oh, and I love my OCs. 😚 @ them all.
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halfmoonshines · 1 day
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Hey! I saw that your requests are open and I wanted to know if I could get a fluffy angst with Damon Salvatore x poc(or ambiguous appearance, if that's easier for you) fem reader, in which she is his girlfriend and consoles him after Lily's death and understand why he reacted the way he did and don't judge him, please?
thank you for the prompt; it got me to write today!!
send any fic requests here!!
Unrepenting
damon x f!poc reader
summary; Being untouchable was one of the only things Damon had ever had a chance of being in control over. He didn't like sentimental threats to that carefully crafted shield, but if his mother dying again didn't splinter it, your love for him certainly would
angst/fluff
˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.
Damon didn't know he was holding his breath until your hand landed on his back and he gave a sharp intake.
"I thought I would find you out here." Your warm, lilting voice was a balm over the ice that had been frosting his skin for the last hour. Since the incident.
"You know this is my favorite place to drink. The view is impeccable." Damon had always favored your family home, nestled at the edge of town right on the forest line.
The house was nice, large property and wrap around porch with perfect seating to watch the sun rise over the trees. He would always sneak out of your bed in the early hours of the morning and sit in one of your fluffy reading chairs that he swears are over the top, just to watch the sky pink on the horizon. Since having to give up the boarding house, he's basically moved in.
He wasn't relaxing in a lounger now, though. He was leaned against the railing of the porch with a glass in his hand, posture indicating nonchalance but the tightness in his shoulders told you everything you needed to know.
Your hand came around from his back to his chest, eyes trying to demand his attention. He was distracted for a moment, by how beautiful you always are. Ever-soft hair and skin a darker shade of brown than any time in the sun could do, lips that always smiled at him. Even when other people didn't.
"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked quietly, mouth worriedly pursing instead.
His hand that had been rising to meet yours dropped, jaw clenching as he turned back to face the treeline. "Nothing to talk about. She's dead and conveniently left us with the problem of her insane boyfriend."
His words were venomous, a swift gulp from his glass following them. You knew Damon, knew the ins and outs of his bravado and his trauma. You knew that his hatred for his mothers actions, and his grief over losing her in so many ways were not mutually exclusive. They roiled together inside of him like angry lions staking a claim.
You leaned up next to him, eyes searching for his again as he favored the sky. "We definitely do have a problem we still need to handle. And she is gone. Really gone, this time."
His tumultuous feelings simmered in the back of his throat, coating his thoughts in the same black ink reserved for all of those that he had loved too much. "Are you here to lecture me on how unhealthy it is to pretend I don't care that my mommy is dead?" He said it like a joke, some small child asking for extra desert. "Because I'm not pretending. That bitch did everything but be a mother, and now I have someone else chomping at the bit to murder me or send me to eternal prison because she couldn't even handle being a martyr correctly."
Your body shifted in front of his quickly and efficiently, shimmying yourself between the deck and him, demanding his full attention. His eyes met yours reluctantly after your hands came to rest on his chest, thumbs rubbing soothing circles through the fabric there.
"She was unhealthy, Damon. She never once chose you when it mattered, and all you wanted was what all kids want from their mothers. Love. She couldn't give it to you, and no matter what everyone else thinks - there's no right way to heal from that. You were expected to process a lot of things emotionally very quickly, and to be honest, I'm not sure she deserved your forgiveness. No one can tell you how to feel. I'm just so proud that you're allowing yourself to feel anything."
His hands coming up to touch your face almost distracted you from the mist in his eyes, and you offered him a small smile while he sought comfort at your touch.
Damon wasn't very sure about anything in his long life, even the emotions battling inside him now were ambiguous and clouded. But the dark haired man knew with every fucking fiber of his being that you were going to destroy him one day. The tears threatening to fall from his eyes an indication of the hold you had on his soul. He didn't want to think of his mom. The abandonment, resentment and lies. It bled into everything else in that little box he keeps tucked away. His father and Katherine and Stefan and Elena and everyone who had ever promised to protect him but ripped him to shreds instead were pounding at their confines, begging to wreak havoc on him.
"This really fucking sucks." His voice was almost a whisper, tears falling just as silently.
Your posture changed to match his, mirror images. Stood bent over each other, hands cupping the others face. Your fingers moved slowly, wiping the moisture from his cheeks. "It does fucking suck. You can feel however you want about that. However, we will be together in this. Whatever this is. Always."
You loved him before he saved your life, but now he was ingrained into every part of you. That night a year ago changed nothing about how you felt for Damon - he was always meant to be yours.
"Can I hold you?" Damon needed something tangible to ground him, your satin curves molded to his chest.
"Let's go inside, babe." Your smile was the same as it always was for him, large and glittering, as you grabbed one of his hands from your face to lead him inside.
You were thinking of just how much Damon Salvatore had grown over the last few years while he was moseying after you into the house, drink dangling from his fingers while he thought of what wedding ring would fit your beautiful umber colored hand best.
˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.
my works
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you-will-return · 2 years
Text
For once, I'm actually doing what I said I'd do in a timely manner.
So this will be jacket post part two: electric boogaloo, bc I didn't want the other one to get too long.
Anyway so yesterday I finished all the sewing (you'll see what I mean) and on Wednesday I finished the painting at Maxi's place (who btw came over and helped me finish my uni stuff so everybody go thank Maxi bc otherwise I'd still be sitting here crying over my shitty printer.... anyways)
Let's get to it
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Here we have the front of the jacket (I'll show the collar area in more detail in a sec). On the right pocket I added my LOTSAD pin (yes, I still think the abbreviation is funny), originally I wanted to put the Blind Channel one there but then I realized 'sewing inside of a pocket sucks ass, as does sewing through two layers of jean fabric at once', so here we are. The sewing doesn't look very clean but fuck it (it's just rock'n'roll, okay I'll shut up). Maxi told me 'It would've looked better if you had cross stitched it' to which i replied 'Honey, I'm just glad that it's on there'. Anywho underneath the ghost, between the buttons I added the word(s) 'care fully' (which can be read as one or two words and I kinda like that. It's a Mitski reference but also I just love playing with language).
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Here we have the LOTSAD pin (and shitty sewing job) in more detail and as you can see I finally added the GIANTS pin above the Get Up coward.
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The Joonas smiley got some company. Tbh sewing the beads on like this was so much easier than trying to sew on the pins.
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More beads!!! I decided to make the rays two-colored bc why not? And I know the bead placement is a bit on the nose, but eh who cares? Also I added the birds last minute bc freedom and the sea and all that (in my heart they're evil lil seagulls).
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(This is nothing new but I just wanted to show it to y'all colored in)
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From bottom to top: The knife (!!) is finally colored in and I couldn't be happier. Imagine walking by someone and then boom KNIFE!! (I hope you can tell how much I love this stupid bloody knife). Above this I added one of my favourite songs off of the new album. But yeah it has a star in the middle, bc they're burning (again lost an arm and a leg on the creativity). And you might notice that these beads are different, and that's bc I did this arrangement at home, where I had a greater variety available :)
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My favourite part of the jacket, still. It's so simple and yet it just works. Again, I know that you've seen this before but I just wanted to show it outlined and coloured in :)
Now for the back:
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Top to bottom: since my collar is usually down, I put the Watching Over Me mainly here for myself, but it's for good reason. This lyric really means a lot to me on a personal level and it's from the first MCR song I ever listened to (so it's double special), so no one but me (and you guys now haha) has to see it or know it's there, but I still wanted it to be included. Secondly: the Bad Idea back piece is done!!! Yaay!! And the roses don't look like colored in 8s anymore (double yay!!). I'll admit it looks pretty edgy (what about this jacket doesn't) but I really enjoyed painting it. I think I might have also done it out of spite for my 9th grade English teacher, who, after I had done a presentation abt MCR, told me:"Nice presentation. But Anna, all that blood and gore? Is that really necessary?" Yes, yes it is ma'am.
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Lastly: the rest of the back. Yeah I kinda just went ham with the beads and pins, but it was fun (for the most part). Bottom to top: The 747 is finally colored in, bc of its position it's kinda reminiscent of an incomplete license plate but if you knew my history with this number, you'd agree that it makes this just that much more fitting.
Above it the Blind Channel beads, kind of as a summary of everything above them.
Then we have Balboa (why is there a heart bead? Bc Maxi had some lying around and I thought it looked pretty). I really like this song and I would give a lot for that skeleton Breakdowns for Breakfast t-shirt.
Above Balboa we have a part of glory for the greedy. No deeper reason for why it's here just 'mwah'. This was the first bead arrangement I sewed on btw and lemme tell you it was a struggle.
Talking about struggle we have the Don't Fix Me pin arrangement that made me want to throw myself into a river. I struggled so much with this but I ended up really liking it. Pink + edgy??? Fuck yeah, that's what I live for. I know the song itself is not everyone's favourite, but I've been listening to it on repeat ever since it came out so lol
Lastly we have the Left To Die beads (yes alive or only burning, again, that song has been living in my head rent free ever since I first listened to the album and not just bc of the jupiter line haha). When I first heard the chorus I was like 'huh' and then i thought about it some more and I was like 'hUH?!?', anywho needless to say this lyric hits me every single time (:
Soooo.... that's the jacket. Edgy, wonky and with a certain.... diy-charm.
Hope you enjoyed this journey and its outcome as much as I did.
Bonus: The diy saftey pin necklace (by me) and saftey pin earrings (by Maxi), that I'll probs wear at the concert. Alongside a Revenge bracelet that I wanted to sew onto the jacket but sadly didn't know where to put.
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thelastharbinger · 10 months
Text
Tidbits of ATSV That I Enjoyed (Or Alternatively: Just Miles Being The Most Endearing Spidey Ever)
Miles patting The Spot's head after successfully webbing him (I don't see this as condescending, but rather him still engaging with the humanity of a villain like Spot) and ~very assertively~ telling/asking him not to escape.
"I'm like Robin Hood-if he gave to himself."
Miles' spidey senses going off when he arrives late to his dad's party because there's nothing more frightening than Brown parents when they're mad at you. Beware the chancla or correa!
O.k. So we all know there are different versions of the movie out there. You may already know that one of the slight differences is when Miles goes to save Inspector Singh. There's a version where you can hear Gwen's voice in the distant background yelling no! when she thinks Miles gets crushed under the rubble, and there's another where she's silent as she webs to him. Now, I have found ANOTHER version (online) where her shouting is even more at the forefront. She's practically screaming and sounds more desperate, (prolly because it's close to the same way her Peter Parker died so she's reliving trauma) and the fear in her voice is palpable. That one haunts me.
Jefferson trying to equate studying for his police exams to childbirth, which Rio quickly nips in the bud.
Ganke having a soccer poster of Son Heung Min, a famous Korean footballer who currently plays for the Premier League Tottenham Hotspur and is captain of the South Korean national team.
Miles having a Sashimi (his universe's version of Supreme, but I just like the idea that Miles loves eating sashimi. Like I know that kid has good taste in food) poster in his bedroom.
The fact that Miles kept in touch with Aunt May for long enough after the events of ITSV that he helps her move.
The Spot saying he was one of the more handsome scientists at Alchemax according to his colleagues.
Miles and Gwen having the same collectible toys, the only difference being that he keeps his in the box and she doesn't.
"Hey, don't try to wow me with big words, man," *in deep manly voice* "I do crosswords every day"- Miles after Spot points out Alchemax as "the crucible of our connection!"
Miles going, "This job is so dumb sometimes" after he tries to web Spot at the deli, but it goes through a hole and lands on his face.
"Nahhh, he seems more Dominican to me." Kinda want Miles to meet a native Dominican Spidey because that dynamic would highkey fuck hard *pun not intended*. They would repair relations between our two islands-PR&DR.
"Almost there Mami *smiley face* *cowboy* prayer hands*"
The college admissions coach at Visions Academy straight up saying, "That's your story! Now, just stick to the script..." Ma'am what???
"Calmate Mami, eso no es my fault."
"I've hit a lot of different villains with a lot of different food...I'm just trying to lighten the mood."
Miles in his angsty teen era and smart-mouthing everyone around him. Love that for him.
"He almost killed his mom as a baby, I mean, look at those shoulders." No but for real tho. Those shoulders are as wide as a truck. Kim Seokjin who??? (if you understood that reference, ily).
Miles writing a love letter to his dad in 2 cakes.
Gwen at the water tower chowing and saying how feelings make her hungry after her and Miles talked about how they can't be together cause it would end in tragedy. Like Gwen, come again?!
Also, Miles' and Gwen's talk at the Williamsburg Bank Building being lowkey the catalyst for the 2nd/3rd acts of the film. Without them both kind of silently admitting their feelings for each other, Miles probably wouldn't have chased after her the way he did. Pretty sure you know the rest.
"I bet she doesn't even speak Spanish," and Jeff going "Que barbaridad" in his very broken Spanish. Queue Rio's bombastic side eye.
Both Gwen and Miles referring to Spot as a Villain Of The Week, even though neither of them have spoken about Spot to each other.
"I was bitten by a-wouldnt you like to know? Know what I mean?" SIR. Chill. This movie is for children.
The Spot inverting himself, going from a white mass with black spots to a gaping black hole with smaller white spirals. It's giving Junji Ito.
The irony of Pavitr exclaiming, "Well that was another easy adventure for Spider-Man!" right before an incoming canon event. HIS. He was about to experience his first big loss, and his happy-go-lucky nature would've been challenged.
Miguel saying conyo! when all the Spideys start pointing at each other.
"!Cállate!" "Nosy!" Sidebar: we don't talk about Gwen's banter with bad guys enough. She's so funny!
A lot of the Peters saying hi to Gwen as she passes HQ because she is canonically the one lost love--the love interest they all would've ended up with had she not died, so they all have an affection for her.
Web-Slinger going "Giddy up!" Cause he's swinging up.
Miles offering his fresh new takes on how to deal with the Spot upon meeting Miguel, saying "He just wants to be taken seriously. Like we all do." MILES YOU BEAUTIFUL, COMPASSIONATE GOLDEN SUNFLOWER BOY I LOVE YOUUUUU.
Hobie referring to Peter B. as Humbling Reality Spider-Man, which considering how steeped in tragedy the Spidey lore is, is really saying something.
Miguel's nonono no puedo más no puedo más. His misery is very funny and delightful to me. Little bitch ass.
"You know you're the only Spider-Man who isn't funny." Yes! More Miguel slander in the next one, please! Little bitch ass.
"Snitch!"
Miles shouting out Peter's name for help whilst Miguel pins and lays into him the fact that he's an anomaly. This after he momentarily glitches back to his ITSV store-bought suit. Mimicking the way-in also the first movie-Miles shouting out Peter's name for his own rescue as Doc Ock attacks him at the research facility. Because even though he feels hurt by Peter at this point, that's still his dad mentor and he still instinctively looks to him for protection. Rip my heart out why don't you!
Gwen sneaking back into her and her dad's place just to get that printed polaroid of her and Miles, a pic she already has on her phone.
Earth-42 Miles wearing Nike while our Miles wears Jordans.
#hi. ive seen this movie 8x in theaters and twice on pirating sites. i am unwell#also sorry not sorry for the miguel slander. i am a miles loyalist thru and thru thst bitch is on thin ice#but also literally can't get over gwen “it really is so nice to get to talk to you. me & him its different. in every other universe...stacy#cause directly underneath that she's actually saying. “i missed you. and what i have with you i literally do not have with anyone else and.#you dont know this but ive met hundreds and thousands of spiderpeople. nd even in my friendship with hobie its not like what i have with yo#and im actually really smitten with you. the one person i shouldn't be smitten with bc there is no happy ending for us. and idk...#if i should hold off. and im letting you know all this so that you can decide for me. whether to take that lesp of faith or not with you. &#hope that say yes and make the first move so that i cant but help to just sink into you.“#AND IT MAKES SENSE! SHE MET HIM JUST AS HE WAS LIVING THROUGH AN EXPERIENCE SHE DID. OF BECOMING SPIDEY. AND RIGHT AFTER#SUFFERING THE GREATEST TRAGEDY OF HER LIFE WHICH SHE WAS ABOUT TO BEAR WITNESS THRU WITH HIM. SHE WAS THERE FOR HIS UNCLE DYING AND WATCHED#HIM BECOME SPIDERMAN. WE FORGET THAT THEY ACTUALLY WENT THRU SOME HEAVY THINGS TOGETHER. THEYRE TRAUMABONDED. I KNOW THATS NOT WHAT THAT WO#ACTUALLY MEANS. BUT IT MAKES SENSE THAT SHE CAN ONLY TALK TO MILES BC THEY PERFECTLY UNDERSTAND EO.#anyways idk why im shouting. im high rn. but crazy how all of that meaning was subtly thrown in there. like we got a confession scene folks#from gwen of all people! i love that for me.#also back to miguel: so i know he's hot. but if a hot person were to ever be rude to a waiter we agree theyre no longer hot right? right.#atsv#miles morales#itsv#miguel o'hara#the spot#ghostflower#gwiles#gwen stacy#ghost spider#gwen x miles#rio morales#across the spider verse#into the spider verse
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