#or I could shift the whole trip into the future and go another time with this pair of tickets

[izpira-se-zlato]

So I booked a Eurostar from [home] to London, and did not think that through because -- well. I'll be at my parents' after the Munich show. Munich - London is, right now, around 67€ booking directly through Lufthansa, for a 2 hour flight. My parents' - Munich is free (thanks, Deutschlandticket.)

My parents' - my place is, booking right now, around 30€ for 7-8h. Home - Eurostar is, booking right now, between 25 - 50€ for 1.5h.

Why the fuck did I book the Eurostar??

#Seriously considering letting that inbound ticket be #and booking the flight #which is a good chunk of money wasted but at least I'd still save on time #and the money is gone either way #or I could shift the whole trip into the future and go another time with this pair of tickets #and book a new return ticket from London #hmmmm #the boyfriend is in favour of that plan too

[jellyluvr]

Good girl 2

- Kai x fem reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Same thing 4 this one as last time. Professor x student. Also this is 4 @lucypetersworld, or anyone else who wanted a pt2

Tw: hardcore sex, doggystyle, smut, and kai punishing you. (Spankings)

S: you go back to class and kai is waiting for you

The outfit is what I imagined for reader to wear!! Minus the emo btw lol

(You can imagine whatever u want tho!!)

Ever since you had left the class yesterday you had been on edge about the whole thing. You knew it was wrong for your teacher to do that... but you loved it. You had liked it too much for you to just leave that feeling away.

So you decided to wear another one of your slutty skirts. This time it was black mini skirt and a black cami. You were carrying your bookbag as well, and entered the classroom, kais eyes shifting to you. Unfortunately for the both of you there were people in there so you couldn't do anything.

You just flashed a smile before going up the small steps quickly and going in your usual spot. There were a few people in class, and kai just returned with the lesson.

And it was practically the same as yesterday's.

He knew exactly what he was doing. While you looked over the notes 'Mr Anderson' had written for you, you realized he had just given you the ones from what would be today. So, you didn't do anything. This time, you were able to drink your coffee, the hot liquid stinging your tongue.

You were probably going to regret that later. But at least you got to enjoy it.

And as you watched kai move, you realized what you had worn today really matched what he was wearing... just barely. Of course, it wasn't intentional.. but you did think it was cute.

But all you could think of was how he made you feel. How his big hands had touched you... how his fingers had made you squirm. You still hadn't quite figured it out yet. And how warm he was when you sat on his lap.

I mean, you had never sat on a lap before, but it was definitely weird how he had been so warm. Was it because maybe he-

"Y/n?" Kai spoke, bringing you out of your thoughts.

"Huh?" You looked down. You weren't sure what he wanted. You had only been thinking of yesterday, and you were positive he knew that.

"Are you writing this down..?" He stared up at you. He was acting like a total prick, but you knew later he'd be sweet. But you were definitely not taking notes. It wasn't like you could say that he had written them in for you, though... so it was simple, "Yeah." With a nod.

He shouldn't have even been monitoring you. It wasn't his job. All he did was give lectures to kids and let them do whatever they wanted. He just looked out for you, and it made it obvious something was going on.

Maybe you were just anxious. You hadn't even noticed your finger had slipped in between your teeth. Why were you acting so weird? You weren't the type to bite her god damn nails... take those out of your mouth.

And that was exactly what you did. You'd need to straighten up before the 5 people in the classroom left. You couldn't embarrass yourself. It was already pretty embarrassing that you didn't know what he had done to your body yesterday. You couldn't embarrass yourself further. It was almost impossible but what If you tripped on your way down there?

What if he thinks you look bad in black? What if he thinks you're gross..?

It was always what if that got you afraid. "What if" was enough to scare the shit out of you. Just all the scenarios were frightening.

What if he knows you're nervous? Then what would he do? Maybe he'd be a little nicer? Rougher? Waiting for the future frustrated you. You wanted the future now. You already had the notes for the lesson.. so, you turned to another page.

It was blank, of course, but you put your pen to it, making it full of life in some way.

You filled the page with small doodles, stupid ideas, and quotes you had read online. Drawing was always something to calm you down. Music, too. So, you made a little strawberry with limbs in the bottom left corner, little music notes surrounding him. Or her. You weren't quite sure yet.

But, one person began to leave. That always made others leave, so now you started to pay attention more. To the people, not the lesson. Your eyes grazed over each time someone moved, the way they shifted in their seats and played with their colored markers.

You envied 'those girls' organization. The plush pink highlighters and dull blues. The perfect black pen to write down anything. Oh, how lucky they were. So fucking annoying too.

You hated the way they dress though. They all looked the same. The same leggings the same croptops... it was embarrassing. They honestly looked really ugly. Their blonde hair was like blinding. Their stupid bracelets and fancy necklaces. You knew they'd probably grow up to be an accountant at an elementary school. Probably still with a stick up their ass too.

You kept watching the people in your class. Where it was weird, you were bored. Drawing wasn't your strongest suit despite you doing it so much. That's what you thought, at least.

Then, finally, one girl stood up and grabbed her books, her little friend following. They giggled and laughed once they left.. and that finally left you and kai. Alone.

That word started to scare you. You felt your stomach drop.. like on the Rollercoasters. On the drop. Your stomach turned, your insides feeling almost hot? And that had been all it took for you to become wet. Just the thought of being with kai, Mr. Anderson.

"Y/n would you come down here please? Bring your notes." He smiled, turning his head back to his desk and doing something that you knew was nonexistent. Your body froze. You looked at him, then back at your notebook. Nothing. Absolutely nothing was on that paper. Just two little doodles. You turned the page, half the notes written. Barely anything, but maybe he wouldn't be so hard on you?

You stood up, making sure to pull down your skirt a little from how short it was. You took your notebook and fancy black pen, then walked down. 'Don't trip, don't trip...' you mumbled to yourself, watching your every step. These damn stairs were so narrow... so tiny. It was ridiculous, but finally you reached the tiled floor, Mr. Anderson's desk peeking from your peripheral vision.

You looked up, only being met with him also looking up. He moved his blue hair out of his face before gesturing you over. Fuck, you were afraid.

Your feet began to move, your mind moving faster than anything in the room. Your mind was going too fast.. too much thoughts to think. Then, you had made it beside his desk.

"Did you write everything down? I wouldn't want you to fail.." he laughed lightly, taking your book from your hands and placing it on his desk with a 'thump'.

You watched his expression change as he read the little amount of notes you had.. you had barely written anything down. Of course he'd be mad.

"Sorry." You squeaked out, your hands coming infront of your mouth to bite on your nails. You stopped yourself, awkwardly putting your hands down. Kai looked up at you, still not saying anything.

"Is there a reason you didn't write anything down?" He asked, resting his head on his hand. He was obviously disappointed.. you couldn't even say anything more.

You opened your mouth lightly, your eyes moving across the room for any type of answer.

"Turn around." He said sternly. He wasn't fucking around clearly.. so you turned around. You heard him get up from his chair, his weight causing it to squeak a little. You felt your waist get grabbed from behind before your whole body moved, your chest being pushed up against his desk and your ass up for his enjoyment.

"You know what happens to girls who don't do what they're told.. don't you?" He asked, his hands moving up and down your back. You swallowed, feeling how your skirt was riding up. You knew your panties were visible.. and it made you so much more wet for him.

"I- no.." you said, your hands moving out infront of you. Then, before you could even register what was happening you felt a hard slap on your ass. You yelped, your eyes shutting with the pain.

"You get punished." You felt another hard slap in the same spot, making you gasp. It stung. Your ass stung... with pleasure. Your pussy started to clench around nothing... you were desperate for any type of touch.

Then, you felt a slap right on your cunt. Perfectly angle to touch your clit.. you moaned. Immediately you covered your mouth, your eyes going shut farther.

"Mr. Anderson.." you let your hand fall off your face, your eyes opening. Then, you heard the clinks of his belt coming undone, then his pants falling to the floor. Your head turned to look at him, but he then pulled down his boxers, his hot erection pushing up against your panties.

You moaned a little, your bottom lip going into your teeth for a second.

"Sh..." he hushed you, his hand going to your panties, his thumb carefully going to your clothed, drenched pussy. You let out a little whimper, but right in the middle of it you felt your panties getting ripped, then his tip rubbing against your wet folds.

"So wet for me... good girl." He praised, but then that quickly became nothing. He teased your pussy a little more, and you were going to ask him to stop.. so you could collect yourself, his cock plunged in you, deep. Very deep. You let out all the air in your mouth, your pussy hugging his cock nicely.

He let out a groan, but it turned into a laugh before you felt him slam into you, his hands going to your ass. You moaned a little more, feeling your eyes get pricked with tears.

"Fuck, you're tight.." he closed his eyes, looking down at his cock that was fully into you. He slapped your ass again, then thrusted into you once more. He went past your cervix.. it just hurt so much. Kai clearly didn't care, he continued to stretch you out, his hands kneading your ass.

"Oooh! Mm~" you bit your lip, he dick still fucking you hard. He pounded into you, his pelvis slamming into your ass and making so much noise. Then, as you moaned a whimpered you felt kais hand cover your mouth as he continued to fuck you.

"Good girls stay quiet.." he groaned, still slamming into you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head while you continued to make noise, not being able to hold back. His cock was too big for you. Your small tight holes..

Kai went a little harder as he felt his orgasm reach closer, but he still went on. He didn't care if you were about 12 years younger than him.. he wanted you soo soo bad.

"Fuck fuck fuck.." he said to himself, then his thrust got a little sloppy, but he quickly pulled out, and you felt his cum go all over your panties and on your pussy. He finally let go of your mouth, his hand going to pump himself a little more..

"Agh..." he groaned, his dick becoming soft and it pulled from your body. You heard him pull his pants and underwear up, his fingers going to your pussy and rubbing the cum all over you.

You moaned a little, still trying to calm down from what just happened. He walked around the desk, coming infront of you before giving you a kiss on your head.

"Get used to it, sweetheart." He laughed lightly, walking out and leaving you there.

All you had gotten from this was ripped panties and a unsatisfied pussy.

Guess you'd have to come back.. over and over again.

.• °·~*° . •☆• . °*~·° •.

This one kinda sucks sorry. Also no pt3. You guys are gonna have to imagine it.. sorry

Also should I do a taglist?? I'm honestly thinking about it

And here u go @mrsmarch64.. my beloved🩷

#evan peters #evan peters characters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters smut #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x reader #kai anderson #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson smut #kai anderson x you #kai anderson x y/n #ahs cult #american horror story cult #American horror story #evan peters x female reader #evan peters icons #jimmy darling #kit walker #kyle spencer x you #kyle spencer #james patrick march #peter maximoff #peter maximof x reader #james patrick march x you #jimmy darling x you #kai anderson prof #kit walker x you #tate ahs #tate langdon #tate langdon x you

[daechwitatamic]

3. Libration || KSJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Amalthea (Masterpost) - Part 3: Libration

Rating: NSFW - minors go away i mean it Genre: best friend's older brother!au, angst smut fluff trifecta Pairing: Seokjin x female reader Beta team: @yoongiphoria, @here2bbtstrash, @kookstempo

Summary: You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Warnings: language, drinking, angst, kissing, implied protected s*x/ kind of the immediate aftermath to it, TIME JUMPS, boners lol, nip stim, groping, fingering, explicit protected s*x, multiple orgasms (f. receiving), dom reader but barely, reader on top WC: 14k

Part 3: Libration

Libration: (noun) A slight tilting of the Moon over time that brings parts of the Moon that are normally obscured into view

For his entire life, Seokjin’s fingers had begged to reach for you. If he was practiced at anything, a master of any skill, it was holding them still, tamping them down, busying them with game controls or swiping a screen to stop them on their pilgrimage towards yours.

He’d almost told you so many times. Without fail, every single time, he’d chicken out. 

Like the morning his dad had driven him to campus for the first time, the car loaded up with everything he wanted to bring along. It was one of those late summer days, the whole season setting like the sun. It felt like endings. Seokjin had been really in his feelings about it, to be honest.

He’d leaned against the car, arms crossed, as you stood staring back at him. Waiting. Waiting to say goodbye.

Your whole lives, you’d never asked him for anything, just stayed constant and steady in his life. Not a lot of things felt steady in his life - hadn’t since he’d lost his mom back when Jungkook was a baby. But you did. You were unwavering, just there when he needed calm, consistency, dependability. Seokjin usually leaned into the chaos of his life, of his siblings, of his sometimes noisy and goofy personality. But when he needed it - the quiet retreat - somehow he always pictured you. Like you were his quiet place.

You were standing there, waiting for something before he left this small town for bigger and better things, and he was stalling. 

What could he say to you as a goodbye?

Would don’t forget me make him seem too pathetic? God, yeah, it sounded like he was dying. He was a nineteen year old moving away to college, not the ghost of a murder victim whispering avenge me into the wind. For fuck’s sake.

Come visit? That was less dramatic - more direct. It said what he wanted… for you to stay in his life, stay in his universe. That was good, that would work. 

He was just working up the courage to say it when you seemed to give up on him, shifting your weight and asking, “See you at Christmas?”

Disgusted with himself, he’d nodded mutely. You’re an idiot, Seokjin, he thought, watching you disappear into his father’s house.

Another opportunity wasted. Another trip around the sun - without you - stuttering to a start. 

–

It was hard to be around you. Maybe that was pitiful but it was Seokjin’s truth. 

Still, every time he came home from university and saw you again, it always felt the same. It surprised him every time, caught him off-guard. It felt like getting slammed with damn, I’m happy to see you again, damn, I didn’t realize how much I’d missed you, damn, you look good these days. 

And that’s where it crashed to a halt. It was a dead-end, just like the one you both grew up on. He couldn’t go there. Minji would destroy his life if he got entangled with her best friend, he was sure of it. Plus, you were in different cities for college, living separate lives. Your future paths weren’t meant to intersect. It just didn’t make sense to start something that could just end up ruining things between everyone, including you and Minji’s friendship. 

So, at your parents’ Christmas Eve dinner his senior year, when he was twenty-one and you were nineteen, he stayed holed up in the living room with Jungkook, avoiding you entirely. He stood at the side of the room, bored and wishing he were home with a game instead of avoiding eye contact with all the real adults around him. He sent Jungkook into the kitchen to get him a beer, knowing if he went in there himself he’d stay. Nothing good could come of it.

He still found himself staring at you through the doorway as you sat next to his sister in the kitchen, your laugh bouncing out to him. He wanted so badly to join you, to be the one making you laugh as he had almost his whole life. 

You were a supernova, exploding before his eyes, but he couldn’t look away. When you’d looked up and caught him staring, he felt himself flush from head to toe. 

He had to stay away from you; it was the only way to stay sane. 

The next morning he’d woken early, dehydration toying with him, sending him scavenging to the kitchen in search of water, or something caffeinated. 

The universe laughed at him long and loud, and placed you in his kitchen, in thin, pink and grey pajamas that barely covered your ass, did nothing to hide your tits. You’d crossed your arms self-consciously, and Seokjin hurried to face the sink, filling the kettle as a distraction, so that you wouldn’t spot his semi.

He could feel your eyes on him, the air between you rife with tension, and he dreaded whatever it was you were going to say, or ask him - dreaded the moment he’d have to turn around to answer you to avoid looking rude. 

Instead, you spared him, vanishing back down the hallway as silently as you’d come. He’d heaved a sigh, running a palm down his hardening dick for relief, and headed for the bathroom. It was cold shower o’clock, apparently.

–

He graduated the following May, moved back home. Prepared resumes and cover letters and started sending them out by the dozens. Prayed someone, anyone, would hire him.

His dad threw him a graduation party, even though Seokjin told him over and over again that he didn’t want or need it. The house full of people - all there to see him, to ask him what his plans were when he had none - stressed him out. 

He’d stuck to Jungkook all day, his safety blanket. It shouldn’t be like that - Jungkook was the baby, and an introvert, too. But having Jungkook as a buffer helped Jin feel less looked at, helped keep his neck from flushing deep red all day long. And Jungkook was a good brother - he understood, without them even talking about it. He stayed close, talked to all the relatives cheerfully, bunny nose scrunching as he smiled. Not like Minji, terrible sister, who abandoned him to die with all the aunts and uncles and cousins, disappearing into the house.

Even with the Jungkook buffer, he could only take so much. By nine o’clock, as the sky darkened slowly, the blues leaking away and turning inkier, his social battery was shot. A lot of the attendees had said their goodbyes by then, and he felt like it was safe for him to slip away. 

He retreated to his own room, flopping onto his bed and pulling up a webtoon that had updated the day before. He’d been saving it for a time of need. Like now. 

He wasn’t sure how he got clued into your presence in the hallway - you hadn’t made any noise. But he’d spotted you, called your name. His heart raced with possibility when you tentatively stepped into the dark of his room.

When you asked - voice small, unsure - if you could join him, he’d gone stupid, hadn’t even been able to think of the word “yes”. He’d had to answer by moving over to make room for you, hoping you’d understand.

You laying next to him, even with the space between you, felt amazing. Seokjin scrolled the webtoon every time you said “okay,” but he didn’t read a word of it. All he could focus on was stopping the words from tumbling from his mouth, stopping himself from throwing his phone across the room and rolling to cover your body with his own. 

He kept it in check until he heard your breathing deepen. He glanced down to confirm - you’d fallen asleep. He clicked his phone screen off, his arms aching from holding it aloft for so long. Then he lay there, taking in the silence, watching your face as you dreamed. Ever so softly, he’d reached out a tentative finger and brushed it along your cheek. He had let himself touch you so few times, even in small, innocent ways. This felt like a rich indulgence, like the treat of all treats.

Smiling, chest feeling so full something might crack, he’d closed his eyes, eventually falling asleep by matching his breathing to yours, inhale to inhale, exhale to exhale. 

He woke up sometime before dawn, jumping in his sleep. Something had alarmed him, told his brain there was danger. It was still very dark in his room, the only light coming from under his door from the hallway. You’d turned away from him in your sleep, your feet resting lightly on his shins, your legs curled.

Seokjin smiled, reached to brush your hair away from your face. When you didn’t stir, he got comfortable again, rolling to face your back, gingerly reaching an arm over you and letting his hand rest on the mattress near your stomach. In your sleep, you pressed back against him, shuffling into his embrace, then stilling again. He fell back to sleep breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

When he woke up for real, long after sunrise, you were gone, his bed empty. He checked his phone almost frantically, but you hadn’t texted. 

He spent all day agonizing over it - should he reach out? Did he need to apologize? Were you freaking out, did you need him to tell you to breathe, that it was okay? But in the end, he said nothing, afraid anything he sent would just make things worse.

–

Jin spent the eve of his twenty-third birthday at a bar. You and Minji (and Jungkook, that year) were away at school for a few more weeks before winter break would begin. It was loud and crowded, the walls adorned with street signs and sardonic posters, neon beer signs, a few backlit clocks that all read different times. He threw back shots, paid for none of them as the birthday boy, surrounded by friends from college and home. 

His phone buzzed at midnight on the dot, as the friends around him cheered and pounded him on the back. When he saw your name on his screen, everyone around him fell away, like they didn’t even exist. Ignored everyone around him, sat and blatantly texted you back, unashamed to be neglecting his own celebration.

Getting baja blasted with your sister, you’d sent him, and he had laughed out loud at the bar, pressing fingers to his eyes as if he could erase the mental picture, shoulders still shaking. 

“What’s wrong?” someone asked him, peering over his shoulder.

“Yah,” he’d said, still laughing. “Baja blasted, is that what the kids are calling it these days? Am I that old, already, one minute into my twenty-third year?”

They’d laughed, reading the text, ribbing him about Minji’s delinquent college behavior. One of his friends, a girl with shoulder-length dark red hair, had sent him a sideways look. “This girl is texting you at midnight for your birthday, huh?” she’d asked, lips pursing with amusement. “You know what that means.”

“What does that mean?” Jin echoed, turning to face her, and her smile had grown, a gotcha. 

“The only time I’ve ever done that in my life,” she told him, “is for my best friend, or for my boyfriends.”

They’d teased him about his red ears for the next hour and a half.

–

Back to avoiding, back to trying to bury it deep down. Back to failing miserably.

You and Minji lounged in the backyard, your conversation floating in low murmurs up through the open windows as Seokjin sat at the kitchen table, scrolling on his phone. 

He heard only snippets - I broke up with that guy, I just wasn’t feeling it. 

Immediately interested, he rose, drifting towards the open kitchen window, ears perked.

“No one sticks,” Minji said. “I worry about you.”

“None of them were right,” you told her. “Someone will be.”

“How will you know when it’s right?”

And then the door slammed open, causing Seokjin to jump in his skin.

You’d been pissed, eyes narrowed, voice tight as you accused him of listening in. But Seokjin could only think about what he’d heard, how he’d wondered the same thing over these years. 

Time to stop chickening out. “How come no one sticks?” he asked. 

“What?” 

He spoke slowly, deliberately. “Why haven’t any of the guys you’ve dated lasted?”

He needed to know. He needed to know - what was the reason? Were you both wasting time, revolving idly in place? Could it be possible that you, like him, hadn’t been willing to give someone else a chance if it meant jeopardizing this, even if “this” was practically nothing?

“What am I supposed to say to that? Jin, what do I say to that?” You’d looked absolutely shattered, and he couldn’t help but step closer, reach for your hand. It was cool in his, and he felt like he was holding something fragile - like his touch could cause it to crumble into dust if he wasn’t gentle enough. 

Say you want me, he wanted to say. 

Maybe you would have.

But Minji - terrible sister - had ruined his life, coming through the kitchen door, already talking at the top of her lungs. Jin had made his escape as soon as he could, vanishing down the hallway towards his room.

He moved out - far away, an airplane ride away to a new skyline and a new job - six months later.

–

Twenty-six hadn’t started great for Seokjin. Normally he was a fan of having his birthday in December, during the start of the Christmas season. When he was a kid, it had felt like all the lights and decorations were a bit for him. But since moving to his new city three years prior, working his new job, the holidays were more of a hassle. Amazing how airports can ruin a good thing.

Case in point - his flight got delayed because of a snowstorm. Only by two hours, and he didn’t have to make a connection, so all things considered it wasn’t the end of the world. But he did miss Christmas Eve dinner at your parents’ house.

He’d called Minji from the airport after he landed, as he waited at baggage claim. 

“Come anyway,” she’d begged him. “We never see you. Y/N’s parents have asked about you a hundred and fifty times.”

In retrospect, it might have been nice if Minji had mentioned that you had a boyfriend with you. Just as a little heads up. But Minji was a terrible sister. Or maybe the problem was that she had no idea Seokjin would even care. 

Either way, it had ended like this.

His taxi had pulled up outside his dad’s house. He’d dragged his suitcase up the walk and through the front door, leaving it unceremoniously next to the couch to wait for him. He’d checked his hair in the decorative mirror near the front door and slipped back outside, heading to the brightly lit house across the street.

He’d shaken his hands as he walked, trying to get the nerves to fly from his fingers. It’s like they knew you were close. 

He’d let himself into your parents’ house, instrumental Christmas music and loud conversations hitting him the second the door opened an inch.

Minji had cried, “Jinnie!” and he’d looked up from taking his boots off. His eyes had found you immediately, near the side of the crowded room. You were leaning comfortably against a man. 

A man. A man who took one look at Seokjin, then down at your face, and then reached an arm around your waist. He pulled you in, making you hop a little as you were pulled off-balance.

Seokjin’s stomach had twisted, and he’d felt almost like he would be sick, like he was suddenly hungover without drinking a drop.

He’d had to pull it together. He’d stepped inside, accepting Minji’s enthusiastic hug. Terrible sister, trying to hug him when he was having a meltdown. He’d given you a quick one-arm almost-hug, fingers hovering over your shoulder, not even daring to touch you. He’d smiled wide when you’d introduced “my boyfriend, Daniel”, shook the guy’s hand and tried not to squeeze it too aggressively. 

Boyfriend. He really did want to throw up. When he’d asked you why no one stuck, he hadn’t thought you’d take it as a dare. 

He’d extracted himself from the group and went to find his dad and your parents, to say hello. Then he’d hidden with Jungkook for the rest of the night. History repeats itself, and all that. 

It was a little funny, in hindsight. He’d been nearly sick over the boyfriend. But he’d met Chelsea less than two months later. 

–

He’d met Chelsea at work when he was twenty-six. She was contracted by the company for a job, short-term - not a coworker. She was pretty, competent. Seokjin had felt weird, for a second, when he caught himself watching her walk away from his desk one morning, her ponytail swinging behind her. But then he’d pictured Daniel’s arm around your waist at Christmas. 

What are you doing? he’d asked himself. All the years he’d spent just outside your reach seemed to hover before him like a planetary alignment. Where had it gotten either of you? Maybe you were the smarter one, the braver one. He was thinking of the time he’d asked why none of your boyfriends lasted - but at least you were out there trying. He couldn’t really say the same thing. He’d had his fun through college, certainly. But he’d known every time that his heart wasn’t in it.

Maybe it was time to try.

He’d caught her in the break room on her last day of the project. She’d blushed when he asked her out, her smile more surprised than anything else. Their first date had gone well. Their third date had gone even better. 

He didn’t go home that summer. Things with Chelsea fell into place - pieces clicking together the way they were supposed to in adult relationships. They’d agreed to start being exclusive. She’d called him her boyfriend on the phone with her best friend Lara, lounging on his couch one afternoon, and he’d looked up from the game he was playing, fingers frozen on the controls, eyes wide. 

After she’d hung up, she’d asked, “Was that not okay? We’ve been exclusive for months, it just… felt kind of natural.”

“No,” he’d assured her, reaching out and placing a hand on her knee. She’d covered it with her own, looking at him through her lashes, waiting for his answer. “It was okay. I was just surprised.”

She’d moved in before the leaves started to turn, half of his closet suddenly full of blouses and skirts, oat milk in his fridge where there used to be beer bottles, tampon boxes under his sink where there used to be cleaning supplies. 

Warm smiles when he’d make a stupid pun. Slender fingers in his during evening walks. Breathy whispers when they were tangled together in the dark.

Demands of “Why didn’t you answer your phone?” after long meetings at work. Silence from the other side of the couch over a slight he couldn’t even name. The scratchy material of the couch cushions after a night ejected from his own bed. 

The leaves turned. Fell. Blew away.

Soft murmurs of concern when he’d tell about a bad day. Bursting into laughter after saying the same thing at the same time, following it with, “We’re turning into each other.” Coming home to find his favorite snacks in the cabinets, his laundry folded on the end of the bed. 

A hollow feeling in the pit of Seokjin’s stomach the first time she whispered, “I think I’m in love with you.”

The taste of battery acid on his tongue when he lied to her face and told her he was, too.

They broke up three days before Christmas. It was too late to get a flight.

Seokjin spent the holidays alone.

Twenty-seven sucked worse than twenty-six.

She showed up three weeks into January, peering up at him through red-rimmed eyes. “Do you th-think…” she’d asked, voice wavering, after pouring out apology after apology, “maybe we could try again?”

Maybe I can love her, he’d thought. He’d hoped. 

They broke up again before the end of February. Got back together in April after Seokjin called her, drunk and lonely. Broke up again in July after she smashed one of his favorite coffee mugs on the kitchen floor and screamed at him that he was a liar. Made up in September and somehow managed to hang on through the fall. 

The night of Seokjin’s twenty-eighth birthday, he couldn’t sleep. He had lain there, awake in the dark, listening to her breathing beside him, slow and even. 

He’d reached out and smoothed her hair down, run a hand down her arm. She’d wiggled into his touch, her breathing taking a moment to even out again.

Feel something, he’d begged himself, suddenly on the verge of frustrated, furious tears. Feel something for her. Why couldn’t he? What was wrong with him? Was he broken, doomed? Was this all he’d get out of life - this push and pull of ocean tides, sometimes drowning and other times left to cook in the sun? Her need for his love like a black hole, pulling and pulling, taking and taking?

“I think we should take a break,” he’d told her in the morning, before his alarm even went off. “I think I need some time to figure things out.”

“Figure out what?” she’d asked, tears already rolling down her cheeks. “I thought we were fine, Seokjin. I thought this time we were fine.”

“Let’s talk after the holidays,” he’d suggested. “I’ll go spend some time with my dad and my siblings… let’s see how we feel.”

“See how we feel?” she’d echoed hollowly. “I know how I feel. You’re the giant question mark here.”

It had felt less like a slap and more like a fact. Seokjin couldn’t even fault her for it when it was so true. 

So, at twenty-eight, he’d gone home for Christmas, alone, on a “break”. 

When you showed up on New Year’s Eve, it felt like you were sent specifically to torture him. To test him.

And he had really, spectacularly flunked the test. 

But seeing you again, for the first time in two years, had given him every right answer. You’d stood next to Minji, helping her slice lemons, and Seokjin had sat at the kitchen table nursing a beer and listening to you two rib each other. He’d felt it - peace, calm, his quiet place. That happiness that rose up in him every time you returned to his life, or he returned to yours. That overwhelming something that had always been there, hovering in the background, whenever he was around you. The desire to make you laugh, to find little ways to touch you, the need to feel your eyes on him now. 

It was overwhelming. It was too much. It was too many feelings, all at once.

He’d never felt this for Chelsea. Not even a fraction of it. But he’d felt like this about you his whole life and had never had something to hold up next to it for comparison. 

He loved you. That was the answer. 

He’d tried to keep his distance anyway that night - for all the old reasons. Minji. Different lives in different cities. His uncertainty about how you felt.

And Chelsea, blowing up his phone in real time, asking him when he was flying home and if she could see him right away when he did.

He left her on read. He followed you out on the back deck. He’d called you beautiful and watched the last pane of glass keeping you from him shatter into pieces and fall to the ground, leaving his feet bloody and his heart singing as he finally, finally got to hold you in his arms the right way, as he’d finally, finally gotten to press his mouth to yours, taste you, feel you, have you. 

Everything was beyond his wildest fantasies - and he’d imagined this plenty over the last seven years. Every bit of skin he got to slide his fingers over, every sigh and gasp you made against his mouth, the feel of your slick heat wrapped around his fingers, the feel of your spasming cunt milking every last drop from him. The look in your eyes as he set you down again, made sure your legs were steady - like he’d hung the moon for you.

Guilt and nausea rocked through him. Sure, they were on a break, but Chelsea was waiting for an answer from him, was at that exact moment trying to talk to him about their relationship. His phone burned a hole in his pocket as it buzzed incessantly against his still-quivering thigh. He should have waited - he should have handled his shit first. You deserved better. 

You deserved better than every part of this.

Outside, hurried, in the freezing cold, against the side of his house? That was wrong. You should have had a first time together where he could take his time, worship every part of you, relax and communicate about what you like. 

And in secret? Minji was still inside, a problem unsolved. If this was starting, if Seokjin was getting his chance with you, then he needed to deal with that problem first. Minji needed to be set straight. And, at the same time, she deserved to find out the right way, too. 

And… what did you want? He should have talked to you, he should have told you he liked you before sleeping with you, he should have asked what you wanted this to be before either of you could get their feelings twisted.

He’d fucked this up. He’d done it all wrong. You deserved so much better than whatever childish bullshit this situation was. He needed to deal with Chelsea. He needed to tell Minji that his business was his business. He needed to talk to you about your feelings.

But one problem at a time. Starting right then.

“You probably shouldn’t come in right after me,” he’d told you, and hurried away, already fishing his phone from his pocket. Inside, he’d slipped into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He’d dialed Chelsea’s number before the latch even clicked.

“Jin?” she’d answered, sounding tearful already. He felt that squeeze of guilt again - she’d been home, crying, wanting to work it out with him. And he’d been buried in you. What kind of asshole does that? “Where are you?”

“My dad’s house, like I said I’d be,” he’d said, more coldly than he’d meant. He took a breath, pinched the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t her fault - none of it was. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t love her, it wasn’t her fault she wasn’t you, it wasn’t her fault he’d been too hasty and messed things up with you. “Listen. I know we said we’d talk when I came home but… a few days isn’t going to make the difference. I’m done, Chels. I’m sorry. I’m done for real, this time.”

Her silence stretched so long that Seokjin pulled the phone away from his face to check the screen, to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. 

Finally, after a shuddering breath, she’d managed, “But why?”

Seokjin had pressed his cool knuckles to his burning forehead and closed his eyes. “Because. If I was going to love you, I’d know by now. I know how it should feel and it just… doesn’t. It just doesn’t.”

When he’d returned to the party, he’d scanned the rooms at a clip, eyes roving the crowd for your familiar form. He passed through the kitchen, the living room, even tried Minji’s room and the basement. You were nowhere to be found. 

He typed over a dozen texts to you - where did you go, are you okay, come talk to me, did you leave, i have something i need to tell you. He deleted all of them. His thumb hovered over your picture in his contacts, as he tried to imagine what he’d say if you actually answered. 

In the end, he fell asleep at the kitchen table, his phone in his hand. He woke up late, hungover, unprepared for his flight. He’d barely made it - Mr. Kim had sped the whole way to the airport, and they’d been calling his name over the loudspeaker when Seokjin jogged up to his gate. 

He checked his phone desperately when the plane landed, hoping to see your name on his screen. 

No luck. 

Eventually, enough time passed that Seokjin felt… well, stupid even bringing it up. If you’d wanted to talk about it, you could have, right? It must have been just a hook-up to you, just a bit of fun at a party. 

Seokjin lied to himself, told himself it didn’t matter, told himself he didn’t care. He spent the night of a full moon boxing up Chelsea’s shit and sent it in the mail.

–

It’s something Seokjin tries hard to hide about himself. He laughs loud, makes dumb jokes, wrestles Jungkook in public, tries to control the narrative. Tries to keep anyone from looking too closely. 

He doesn’t want them to know he’s so afraid, that his fear is often the boss of him. 

It’s fear that kept him from calling you after that night, fear that kept him from reaching out when he was twenty-one and you fell asleep in his bed, fear that kept him from telling you the truth when he was eighteen and graduating high school.

He’d sat at the end of his dad’s driveway in the dark, his party carrying on inside without him, wishing he could run - from his future, from his life stretching out ahead of him like a thin path through a sea of fog. He wanted to hit pause, wanted to stay here, wanted everything to stay just the same. He wanted to wake up in his father’s house, bicker with Minji and Jungkook over meals, hear the familiar sound of your voice calling hello from the front door. 

Instead, he was about to walk away from all of that. 

“Are you scared?” you’d asked him, appearing out of the dark like a damn apparition. 

Seokjin had laughed to hide how very dead-on you were. “Me?” he asked, as if it were ridiculous. As if he weren’t always scared, but doing what he was supposed to do in spite of it. “Never.”

And you had smiled at him indulgently, like you knew better. “About what? What’s the biggest thing?”

Losing you.

Losing you.

Losing you.

He doesn’t even know what bullshit answer he gave you. Whatever it was, it wasn’t the truth.

Seokjin stands in the middle of the street watching your tail lights disappear, cast in red and shadows and regret.

All that… it doesn’t matter now…

It didn’t mean anything…

I never got to tell you to your face that you’re an asshole…

You were out of your head… to make a mistake like me…

I can’t do this again… I think it’ll kill me if I do…

He doesn’t even bother to tell his family he’s going somewhere. He gets into his car, the stereo blaring to life as it connects to his phone, then takes off across town. 

Towards the swanky apartments.

–

Your phone rings, and rings, and rings, and rings. 

You know you could just turn it off - a normal person would just turn it off. 

You’re home again, on your couch with a blanket wrapped around you, lights down low, feeling sorry for yourself. Your phone screen lights up on the coffee table before you, then goes dark as the call goes to voicemail. 

Then it lights up again, rattling as it vibrates. Goes dark. Lights up again.

You snap on the ninth call.

“Oh my God, what?” you demand. “I don’t want to talk to you!”

“Which one’s yours?” Jin asks, his voice small against your ear. 

“What?”

“Which apartment’s yours?”

“Fuck off, Seokjin,” you tell him firmly. “I said I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I’ll start ringing doorbells,” he threatens. “I have a lot of time to spare.”

You fall silent, considering this. He would ring every doorbell in the whole damn complex if it helped him win. 

“How’d you even know where to go?” you ask instead. 

“You told me it was the one we used to trick-or-treat at,” he explains. 

This deflates you a little bit. With a sigh, you tell him your apartment number.

“See you in a minute,” he tells you, and hangs up.

“But I don’t want to talk to you,” you whisper, defeated, at no one. It’s only moments later that he pounds on your door. Resigned, you shuffle to the door, the blanket still wrapped around you like armor. 

“What do you want, Seokjin?” you ask flatly. “I told you, I can’t do this.”

“Define this,” he says, and there’s something gentle in the request. 

“Make the same mistakes over and over,” you clarify. “Get nowhere. Gain nothing. Hurt.”

“You keep saying mistake,” he murmurs. He lifts his eyes to meet yours, and you take a step away when they do, knocked physically backwards by how broken he looks. “Can we talk?” he asks. “Can I come in?”

You purse your lips but step aside, letting him inside, letting the door close behind him. “We can talk,” you allow, mostly because he’d looked so devastated, and you feel guilty about it. “But you’d better keep your hands to yourself.”

You settle back down on the couch, and Jin perches at the edge of a wingback chair on the opposite side. 

You look at each other silently for a minute. Then, you grumble, “You can get more comfortable than that.”

He scoots back less than an inch, looking at you expectantly.

“What?” You snap - again. You’re so on edge you think you might shatter. “You wanted to talk, so what are you looking at me for? Talk!”

He looks at his hands, then back at you. “I apologized without explaining,” he says slowly. “But I think you really need both.”

“You explained plenty,” you say, biting the words off before they can hurt you. “You were in a bad place -.”

“I didn’t mean that,” he cuts you off firmly. “What I meant is - I mean - that wasn’t the right way to say it. I didn’t mean… I wasn’t saying my head wasn’t in the right place. I wasn’t trying to imply that I was… fucked up, or upset, or anything like that. I made the choices I made with you that night because I wanted to, and I don’t regret them.”

You look at him, frozen. You feel too frozen to even breathe. “...Then?”

“It’s killing me,” he says, and has to stop and clear his throat as his voice breaks. He heaves a heavy breath and tries again. You wait him out, heart thudding, palms sweating. “It’s killing me to hear you keep calling it a mistake. Because it wasn’t, to me.”

All you can do is stare. You feel like you understand nothing. 

“But,” you try. “What? You never - we didn’t talk, after? After - after - you just left, you disappeared and left me outside in the dark, alone.” 

You didn’t mean the words to come out like an accusation, but they hit Seokjin like a slap. You watch him actually recoil, grimacing like he feels the sting across his cheek. 

You watch as a cloud of shame settles over his features. 

“I know I messed it up,” he admits. “I knew it that night. I should have talked to you first. But I… at the time, I felt like I had… loose ends that I needed to tie up first.”

Your eyes narrow, suspicious. “Loose ends like what?”

His eyes drop to the floor and he whispers, “I had to break up with my ex-girlfriend.”

“Kim Seokjin!” you exclaim in horror, a hand coming to cover your mouth. “Did you cheat on somebody with me?” 

“No, no!” he says quickly, hands coming up defensively. “I promise, it wasn’t like that. My ex and I… we had agreed to take a break before I came home that Christmas. But I still felt like… I felt like I did something really wrong. And then I didn’t want to talk to you about it - about what’s next or anything - until I’d told her that I was out… really out.”

“I don’t understand,” you tell him. Your head is spinning, trying desperately to make sense of what he’s telling you. 

Seokjin sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “I shouldn’t have just walked away from you,” he says, and there’s something almost pleading in his voice - just barely. “I thought I could go deal with her and then talk to you - but you were gone.”

“You could have called. You could have texted. You could have walked the twenty feet across the fucking street, Seokjin -.”

“I know!” he bursts out, leaning forward, his eyes on your face, desperate. “I know I should have! I was just - I wasn’t thinking straight, I was spiraling -.”

“Sure,” you interrupt flatly. “Toeing the line with infidelity will do that to a person -.”

“It wasn’t from that,” he snaps. He stands, walks to your balcony door, seems to stare down his own reflection. His ears are red - frustration, this time. 

When he turns around, he’s calmer again. “It wasn’t because of that,” he repeats more quietly. “It was because you walked into my dad’s house that night and I was suddenly face-to-face with the fact that for the first time in my life, I had a name for what I feel for you.”

Silence crashes between you. You find yourself also standing, the blanket you were wrapped in falling half on the couch and half on the floor. You stare at him wildly, hands shaking at your sides. It takes everything in you to not just utter, “Huh?”

Instead, you whisper, “I think I need you to explain.”

He throws his hands up in exasperation, stalks closer to you, looms over you. “I love you,” he says plainly, and the room swings around you. “I think I always have - but I didn’t know until that night. And I didn’t want to tell you until I’d dealt with her.

“I know I messed everything up that night,” he says, eyebrows furrowed, “and I’m sorry.”

“Seokjin,” you manage, the word coming out like a gasp. “You what?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

You shake your head vehemently. “Before that.”

He steps closer, close enough to step on the blanket you’d dropped, close enough that you can feel his warmth, close enough that you could touch him if you were stupid enough to -

“I love you,” he murmurs, hovering ever closer. The words sound musical dripping from his mouth.

“How did you not know until then?” you whisper, looking up at him. “I knew when I was sixteen.”

He lets out a breath like a laugh. Your hand hesitates somewhere near his stomach. “I’m an idiot,” he explains. Then, voice deepening, he asks, “Do I still have to keep my hands to myself?”

“You’d better not,” you manage to say, and then you can’t say anything because he’s kissing you firmly, one hand on your face and the other pressing you closer by the small of your back. 

It feels different to kiss him now than the first two times. The first time, two years ago, had been desperate, fast and frantic from the onset. Tonight, an hour ago, it had been laced with regret. This time feels somehow freeing. It feels like flying. 

You loop your arms around his neck and try to lift yourself closer, pressing your body against his. He runs a hand down the back of your head, skims it down your spine, grips you by the waist and pulls you in tight with a deep but barely audible grunt. 

You bring your hands to cup his face, pulling away from the heated kiss. “You don’t have a sort-of girlfriend I should know about this time, right?”

He huffs a laugh, nose bumping yours as he tries to get your mouth back. “Shut up,” he laughs, starting to walk you backwards towards your open bedroom door, his clever fingers finding the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head as you walk. You do the same, tugging his t-shirt free and tossing it on your bedroom floor. 

He drinks in the sight of you, eyes burning paths along every newly bared inch of skin. His hands skim up your stomach, glide over your ribs, caress your shoulders, before finding the clasp of your bra. His eyes find yours, silently asking.

You give him a nod, your own hands tracing the lightly defined muscles along his stomach, making him shiver. He pinches the clasp, guides the straps down your goosebump covered arms, looks at you with nothing less than wonder. Then, gently, he covers your tits with both large hands, thumbs stroking the soft skin they find before moving to lightly roll each nipple once. 

You close your eyes and keen a little, just a tiny noise, and let him explore you. You hadn’t taken off your top last time - it had been so quick, desperate. 

But thinking about last time has you needy as you remember just how fucking good Jin’s cock had felt, how perfect the stretch was, how every drag of him made your eyes roll back. You kiss him again, feverish, as he continues to toy with you. A tiny part of you thrills at the forbidden aspect of this - this is Jin with his hand on your tit, Jin tugging you closer by your waistband, Jin pressing himself hot and hard against your leggings, Jin groaning into your mouth when you pop the button on his jeans and slip your hand into his boxers, stroking him to full length. You hadn’t touched him, last time – not like this. He’s hot and heavy and thick, velvet soft against your palm as you work him base to tip again and again, delighting in the low grunts and catches in his breath your fingers elicit.

You finally whine, throbbing and tingling and desperate for more, and he laughs against your neck and hooks his thumbs under your waistband and peels off your leggings, using the opportunity to back you up until you’re sitting on your bed with a bounce. He lets his own jeans drop to the floor and crawls over you; your hands come to his jaw as he kisses you ferociously, like he can’t think of anything else - not food, not water, not air - just your mouth.

Then he moves his mouth to your neck, sucking lightly and then soothing over the spots with gentle kisses. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he whispers. “It feels kind of surreal.”

“What about -,” you breathe.

“Last time doesn’t count,” he growls, and slides his hand over your mound, fingers skimming over your clothed clit and pressing your panties against your opening. You squirm against him, trying to increase the pressure, wanting him inside more than you want anything.

“Please,” you murmur. 

“Please what?” he asks, pushing himself up to look down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Need more,” you gasp, still pushing back against his fingers. Even over your panties, they slide along your slickness. “Need to feel you.”

All his breath leaves him in a rush when you say this, and you lift up a little to help him slide your panties down your legs. You try to reach for him, fingers glancing along the fabric of his boxers, but your brain loses all sense of purpose as Seokjin sinks two fingers into you, pumping them casually a few times before crooking them and rubbing them firmly against your front wall. 

The sound you make comes from deep within you, a low groan echoing around you as your eyes flutter closed. 

He’s lying alongside you and you bury your face in his chest as he works you open. Sounds fall from your mouth, sharp and desperate, as the pressure in your lower belly tightens and tightens, as sparks flash behind your eyelids, as your toes curl and feet press into the mattress frantically. You can feel him pressing insistently against your leg as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, and it’s this fact that sends you spiraling, uttering his name through gritted teeth as every muscle goes impossibly tight. 

He kisses you sweetly as you come down from it, slowly pulling his fingers from you and reaching around to grab a handful of your ass as the kiss naturally deepens, as he falls into it, head first. 

You’re still half floating when he removes himself, and you hear the shuffle of fabric as he digs through his pants, and then a telltale thump as he tosses his wallet back into the clothing pile. He returns, kisses you again, tweaking a nipple and eliciting a whine from you. 

“You good?” he breathes, lips barely centimeters from yours. 

“‘M good,” you manage, gripping his forearms in preparation for the stretch, for the burn, for the deluge of sensation. 

He pushes into you slowly, sheathing himself completely with a deep groan from within his chest. 

“You feel so good,” he tells you, punctuating this with a quick nip on your jaw, before starting to roll his hips. You moan once, loud, head flopping back as his cock drags against your already-sensitive, still-fluttering walls. 

Everything’s different this time. It feels like leisure, it feels like luxury - to get to reach up and kiss him, his lips firm and grounding as the slide of him sends you floating. Luxury, to get to run your hands along the bare skin of his arms, shoulders, and back. Luxury to dig your nails in just a little bit when his angle shifts, to hear his breathing hitch when you do. Luxury to lean back and meet his eyes, burning on yours, fire and love and happiness and passion swimming in them, beneath his furrowed brow, knit in concentration.

You feel so full of him, it’s like he’s touching everywhere, all of you all at once. He brushes a hand down the side of your face, so gently, then slides it under your ass to adjust the angle again. 

“Fuck, oh my god,” you utter, shifting to take him even deeper. “What the fuck.” 

“Good,” he whispers, slowing his pace and pushing into you purposefully, pausing each time he’s buried as far as he can be, feeling you clench around him before dragging out again, steady.

You’re temple to temple, his breath huffs and gasps near your ear. You cling to him tightly, white-knuckled as you try to take everything he gives you. You groan in mingled unison when he speeds up again, pushing himself up onto his knees and grabbing your waist as leverage, pulling you to meet every thrust. 

“Oh -,” you gasp, surprised by the intensity, surprised by how quickly you can feel yourself unraveling a second time, “- god, Jin, fuck, holy shit -.”

“That’s right,” he coaxes, voice deep and honeyed, an entirely new sound to him. “Tell me. What is it, beautiful?”

“I - I can’t,” you gasp, eyes screwing shut, fingers gripping the blanket beneath you so hard that an absent part of your brain worries it’ll tear. “I’m gonna come again - Jin -.”

“Yes you can,” he soothes, and his thumb suddenly on your clit almost has you shooting off the bed, a scream caught in your throat. “Give me another one.”

The pressure is blinding, your muscles so tight that you know you’ll be sore, and though you can’t see anything but bursts of color through your tightly closed eyes, you can hear Seokjin swear fiercely before a low, wordless moan is tugged from him as he tries to hold on through your orgasm. 

As you blink your way back to reality, Jin lowers his forehead to yours and doubles his pace, hips slapping your ass, uttering sounds that are increasingly desperate and broken - half-formed syllables of your name, something that might be please, ragged groans that cut off mid-way as gasps, only to begin again on his exhale. His arms cage you in and you feel yourself floating higher with him surrounding you, keeping everything else at bay.

His arms tighten around you when he comes, breathing out a loud, strangled, “ahhhhh -” as he empties himself inside you, his fingers twitching and pace faltering. He slows, his heart hammering inches from yours, then flops next to you, breathing heavily. He pats your thigh fondly, as if to say, good work, then scans the room. Finding what he was looking for - a small wastebasket under your desk - he staggers over to handle the condom before dropping heavily next to you again, eyes closed as he catches his breath.

“Seokjin,” you murmur, fingers finding his and lacing them together. “Don’t leave again. Okay? Don’t leave me, now.”

He rolls to face you, his hand coming to tug you closer, into his embrace.

“Never,” he promises, lips against your hair, his arms around your back, his heart racing yours towards a finish line neither of you can clearly see. “I swear. Never again.”

–

He does leave, a few hours later, apologizing over and over again. 

“Dad’s doing pretty well during the day now,” he explains as he gets dressed gingerly. “But at night he has trouble - after sleeping he gets stiff and has trouble getting up without some help. Or, his ice bag melts and he can’t get downstairs to change it out. I texted him that I’d be back, but that was hours ago.”

“Go,” you tell him. “I understand.” 

You do - of course you do. But it doesn’t stop you from being a little nervous when he slips out your front door, leaving you alone in the silence of your apartment. You’re too hyped up to sleep. You strip the bed, throwing the sheets in a hamper and putting on new ones, and go to shower. When you emerge, warm and finally sleepy, you get into bed and turn off your lamp, grabbing your phone to scroll until your eyes are heavy. 

[12:14 AM] Jin 😎: home. dad’s fine. let’s talk tmrw?

You smile, typing an answer, illuminated by your phone screen.

[12:36 AM] You: glad to hear it. yeah, sounds good

You’re not sure how to leave it. Would a heart be too much? He’d said he loved you… but what is this now? Where do you go from here? What are the boundaries, what are the rules?

You fall asleep without answers. 

In the morning, your alarm ringing feels like your own personal torture in hell. You’re sore from head to toe, like you knew you would be. You take a longer, hotter shower than normal, hoping the hot water will soothe your aching muscles. It helps, but only a little. 

You’re absent-minded at work all morning, messing up multiple times and yawning so loudly that Dale actually asks you if you want him to go grab you some coffee from the break room. 

“No,” you say sheepishly. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep well.” 

Salvation comes in the form of a text message, about an hour before your lunch break.

[11:27 AM] Jin 😎: good morningggg [11:27 AM] You: i mean, barely [11:27 AM] You: it’s almost noon, sir [11:28 AM] Jin 😎: excuse you [11:28 AM] Jin 😎: some of us need our beauty sleep

You laugh out loud, Dale shooting you another look over his shoulder. 

[11:28 AM] Jin 😎: come over tonight [11:29 AM] Jin 😎: i want to cook you dinner [11:29 AM] Jin 😎: my dad will be up but we can be normal… he’ll go to bed by 9 anyway [11:29 AM] You: my parents will see my car outside [11:30 AM] Jin 😎: i’ll come get you then. be there at 6?

You agree, and manage to actually do a few productive things with your afternoon, now that there’s a solid plan for later, now that you aren’t wondering if Seokjin will manage to vanish from your life for another two years.

You feel guilty for worrying about it, but you can’t help yourself. You’d meant what you’d told him last night, at your car, before he’d come to your place. Having him and losing him the first time had been earth-shattering. You couldn’t do it twice.

–

Jin picks you up right when he said he would, his car idling outside your building right at six o’clock. You slide into the passenger seat and he pulls away, music playing low through the car’s speaker system. 

“How was your day?” he asks, glancing over at you. 

“Couldn’t focus for shit,” you admit. “I think I pissed off my teammate.”

He chuckles. “Tomorrow’s a chance to do better.”

“Don’t distract me so much tomorrow, then.”

He grins at you, obviously not sorry in the slightest. “I distracted you? We barely talked.”

You purse your lips at him playfully. “I had a lot on my mind, and all of it’s your fault.” You say it teasingly, but he goes serious. 

“Let’s talk tonight,” he suggests. “After my dad goes to bed.” He reaches out, smoothes a hand down your leg, leaves it resting on your knee. 

“That’s probably a good idea,” you murmur, your eyes on his hand. You’re wondering how just that - just his hand resting on your knee - can cause goosebumps to rise up and down your arms. 

When Seokjin leads you into the house, Mr. Kim is awake, watching television in the living room. He seems surprised to see you, but greets you warmly.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” he asks, more polite than what are you doing here, which is probably what he wants to ask. 

“Minji’s busy tonight and I needed a hand with dinner and everything,” Seokjin lies easily, slipping his shoes off. “Y/N’s doing me a huge favor. Are you good, Dad? Do you need anything?”

“New ice pack,” you answer for him, eyeing the bag of mostly water that rests on Mr. Kim’s propped-up knee. “Can I help with that?”

You change out the ice pack and rejoin Seokjin in the kitchen, where he has something simmering on the stovetop and is busy chopping something else. You sit at the table, nursing the beer he offered you, watching him work. You chat casually with him - discussing what shows you’ve been watching, gossiping about Minji’s last boyfriend, getting updates on what Jungkook is up to out west. When the meal is ready you both eat in the living room with Mr. Kim, where he peppers you with questions about your job (it’s boring), how your parents are (same ol’, same ol’), if you’re keeping Minji in line (as if anyone could). 

Seokjin turns out to be right - Mr. Kim requests to go upstairs to bed before nine. Seokjin helps him up the stairs, gets him settled, and returns downstairs to find you up to your elbows in suds at the kitchen sink.

“I was going to do that,” he scolds.

You shrug. “No reason I can’t help. Dinner was delicious, by the way. I forgot how well you cook.”

“How could you forget?” he protests, moving to the fridge to get himself a beer. “I take offense to that.”

“Don’t go so long without cooking for me next time, then,” you counter playfully, wiping your hands down with a dish towel and moving to sit across the table from him.

“Live closer to my city, then,” he gives it right back.

“No, no, no,” you shake your head firmly. “You moved far. You don’t get to put that on me.”

He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. You’re tempted to crawl onto his lap and you have to squash the urge down. You’re here to talk, not to kiss.

You settle into quiet as you consider this, consider all the fears and misgivings you’d been plagued with last night and all morning. 

Seokjin reaches under the table with his leg and gently kicks at your knee. “Talk to me,” he says. “Tell me what’s happening up there.” He points with the top of his beer bottle in the general direction of your head. 

It makes you smile, in spite of everything.

You consider, for a second, playing it off. But you and Seokjin have circled each other for damn near a decade. Isn’t it time for some honesty? When will you ever have an open invitation like this again?

“I’m scared this is just going to be like before,” you admit. “Even if you don’t - I mean… even if you do everything right, the truth is you still have to get on a plane in less than two weeks. I just don’t see an ending here that isn’t you leaving me behind again.”

Jin lets out a long breath, his eyes on the table. “I should have asked you this a long time ago,” he says slowly, raising his eyes to meet your gaze again. “But… what do you want?”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. You’ve never in your life, not even in your head, put words to it before. The want, the wish, it’s too much to ask for. It’s the thing you’ve spun around for your whole life, the thing whose gravitational pull keeps you in orbit, and it’s too much to look at directly. 

He nudges you with his foot beneath the table again, gently. You look at your beer, condensation gathering around your fingers on the glass. He says your name softly. 

“If you can’t tell me,” he points out, “then we’re really stalled out. And I don’t think that’s what either of us wants.”

It’s the encouragement you need. 

“I want to be with you,” you whisper, still unable to look at him. “But I know that’s not…” Not possible. “I mean, you live so far, we both have jobs…”

He leans forward, reaching out and peeling your hand away from your glass bottle, holding your fingers tenderly. He says your name, waits until you finally look up at him. 

“I’m willing to try and figure it out,” he says seriously, and you feel something inside your ribs crack and shift. Hope that you’d kept caged for your entire adult life springs to life, starts throwing itself bodily against its confines, the cracks beginning to splinter, an escape imminent. 

He is? He wants that? What would that even look like? Would you be long distance? Would one of you have to move? What about Minji?

He says your name again, and you snap your eyes back up. “Let’s just…” he starts, then sighs. “I’m here for another ten days. Let’s make the most of them and see what we think closer to the end.”

It feels like delaying an execution, you think. But how do you say no? He’s offering you ten days of what you’ve always wanted - even if there’s an expiration date flashing before you, how can you possibly turn it down? 

“What about Minji?” you ask, the one question you have to voice. 

Across the table, his face goes tight. He withdraws his hand, picks absently at the sticker on his beer bottle. “Let’s keep her out of it until we decide what we want,” he says. Each we flies through you like lightning. “Does that seem fair? Let’s let this be about you and me, first.”

That’s fair - and it sounds good, honestly - but part of you is aware and anxious knowing this means you’ll be lying to Minji, having to hide things.

“Okay,” you say uneasily. “I guess you’re right.”

He looks over at you silently for a second. “C’mere,” he finally murmurs, scoots his chair back.

“We’ll break the chair,” you protest, even though you’re already moving, settling on his lap and reveling in the feeling of his strong arms around you, holding you closer.

“Then we break the chair,” he says easily, then kisses you deeply. 

You loop your arms around his neck and turn, lifting a leg over his lap to straddle him. He holds you up by your back at first, but it isn’t long before he’s got one hand tangled in your hair and one on your ass, groaning quietly into your mouth as you grind down on the growing bulge you feel beneath you. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since you had him last, but you can’t hold it back. You want him again. 

He settles both hands on your waist, pulling you down harder onto his clothed erection, helping you set a rhythm as you move against him, your mouth traveling down the column of his neck. 

“What if your dad wakes up?” you manage to whisper, your hands slipping under his shirt and brushing along the muscles they find there. 

“He can’t get downstairs without help,” Jin answers, biting off a groan as you lift his shirt up over his head, placing it on the chair next to you. He kisses you feverishly, leaning you back against the edge of the kitchen table, which scoots a little from the force of it. 

“Want you,” you murmur, and Jin tightens his hand on your ass in reply, then wraps his other arm around your back again and stands. You squeal as he lifts you, and he shushes you through a quiet laugh.

“Where are we going?” you hiss, clinging tight to him with both arms and legs as he moves through the kitchen.

“My wallet’s in my room,” he tells you. “And as much as I’d love to bend you over the kitchen table someday, I didn’t want to stop touching you long enough to go deal with that.”

Your pussy throbs at the words and you let out a disbelieving laugh. “Jesus,” you say.

“Seokjin,” he corrects. 

You smack his shoulder, laughing, as he enters his darkened bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you.

“We do have to be a little quiet,” he warns you. “He can’t come down here without my help, but if he wakes up, this house isn’t super sound-proof.”

“I remember,” you say dryly, remembering being scolded dozens of times for laughing and talking too loudly with Minji on sleepovers. “I can be quiet. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I wasn’t the one screaming last night,” he growls, close to your ear. You smack his shoulder a second time and he laughs, setting you down and turning to dig through his wallet, tossing the foil packet onto his nightstand before turning his attention back to you.

“Ready now?” you ask, arching an eyebrow sassily. 

He laughs again, low and disbelieving, like you’re playing a dangerous game. Another thrill runs through you. You step forward, closing the distance between you, chest to chest with him. You want to run your hands over his stomach, over his pecs, over his shoulders and down his arms. Instead, you press your fingers into his chest and push. He lets you, falling backwards onto his bed and looking up at you, eyes suddenly hooded with desire. 

You pull your shirt over your head and toss it on the floor. Your bra follows, and you stand there, looking him up and down as he runs a hand over the front of his jeans, watching you eagerly. 

“Jeans off,” you tell him. “Actually, scratch that - all of it off.”

He hurries to comply, radiating just happy to be here energy, and by the time you’ve pulled off your own slacks and panties he’s back to laying on his back, legs hanging off the end of the bed, one hand wrapped invitingly around the base of his dick as he pumps it languidly, his eyes on your tits.

“Condom,” you say, and his brow furrows.

“Want to touch you first,” he complains, sitting up a little. 

“Condom,” you repeat firmly.

He reaches for the foil. You wait patiently, thrilling at this game, excited to see what else will unfold. 

He waits, too, one side of his mouth lifted as he watches you. You crawl over him, pressing your mouth to his determinedly. He leans up into the kiss, one hand coming up to roll a nipple between thumb and forefinger before switching to the other. You groan quietly, then reach behind you to line him up. It’ll be a challenge without any stretching first and you know it, but tonight you don’t care. 

You sink down on him slowly, lifting up and dropping back down in intervals to slick him up. He grits his teeth to keep quiet, large hands spanning your hips as he helps guide you. 

For a long time he lets you lead, lifting up and dropping down, leaning forward so he’ll hit that spot each time, rocking back and forth when your legs need a break. He moans so prettily below you, eyes squeezed shut, it eggs you on. You slow your pace, lifting up over him until you’ve almost come off completely, then working your hips back down, clenching over him as you drop again. As you repeat this motion you hear the change in his tone almost instantly - he goes whiney, high-pitched ah - ah - ah-s falling from him until he pulls a pillow around over his face to muffle the sound. 

Finally, he snaps, unable to take your torture any longer. He grips the back of your neck with one hand, holds you tightly in place with his arm across your back with the other, flattens his feet against the floor and begins to piston into you, merciless. 

You cry out once before hiding your face in the crook of his neck as he continues the onslaught, those whiney sounds settling back into deep grunts of effort. 

Your orgasm slams out of nowhere; you were so overcome with the sensation of him fucking in and out of you so roughly that you didn’t even feel the build-up - all the feelings muddled together in a cacophony of sparks and shudders. You wail into his neck, trying hard to keep the sound as low as you can manage, as you feel yourself tighten around him like a vice grip. He cries out, too, his pumps going erratic, and then he stills beneath you, his hands still clutching your hips for dear life.

“Shit,” he breathes finally, giving you a light tap so you’ll lift up and let him handle the mess. You roll to his side and watch him affectionately as he ties up the condom and buries it beneath some papers in his wastebasket. 

“Don’t let me forget to deal with that in the morning,” he requests, flopping next to you.

“I’ll try my best,” you tell him seriously, wrapping an arm around his middle and snuggling in. He rests his arm over your back. 

“Was all of that… okay?” you ask, just to be sure. 

He shakes his head, lips pursing. “Hated it,” he teases. 

You growl in frustration, and he laughs again, reaching to smooth down your hair. “Will you stay tonight?”

You consider this. “I don’t think I can,” you say sadly. “I have work in the morning, I’d have to get up and go back there at like four in order to shower and everything.”

He sighs heavily. “That means I have to get up and drive you back.”

“Poor baby,” you deadpan. 

He nods, agreeing with this. “Do you need to go back now?” he asks, lifting his phone to eye the time. “Can I take you in a little bit?”

“Yeah,” you agree, snuggling in tighter to his side. “We can wait a little. I don’t want to move. Not yet.”

--

Your workday is interrupted the next morning by a flower delivery. The secretary at your office walks the vase back to your cubicle, a look between confusion and irritation on her face. 

“Thanks,” you tell her hollowly, eyeing the bouquet carefully. There’s a tiny card amongst the greenery, but instead of a signature there’s simply a smiley face. The flowers are pretty - you turn the vase carefully so you can look from all sides. Not roses, but a variety of types and colors. You smile, remembering ranting to Minji in his basement as a teenager that roses were boring and overdone.

Behind you, Dale sneezes violently once, twice, three times.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I’ll take them home with me tonight.”

You text Seokjin a picture of the flowers on your desk.

[10:39 AM] You: what are you doing??? [10:39 AM] Jin 😎: trying to make up for past seokjin [10:39 AM] Jin 😎: that guy was an idiot [10:42 AM] Jin 😎: …is it working?

You smile despite yourself. 

[10:42 AM] You: it’s certainly not hurting anything [10:43 AM] You: they’re really pretty [10:43 AM] You: thank you [10:44 AM] You: i’m having dinner with my parents tonight… i’ll text you when we’re done and see what you’re up to? [10:45 AM] Jin 😎: i know what i’ll be up to [10:45 AM] Jin 😎: waiting for my girl

–

You slip across the street after telling your parents goodnight. Seokjin lets you in the front door. Mr. Kim is still up, his leg on a stack of pillows on the couch. He greets you warmly and you sit and talk with them both. It isn’t long before you hear the familiar beep from outside - Minji’s car.

You look at Seokjin in alarm. You knew you’d have to play pretend in front of her eventually… you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

“Hey!” Minji greets, coming through the front door in a tornado of sounds and bags and shoes. “What are you doing here?”

“I was at my parents’,” you say, hoping it sounds natural. “I just thought I’d come say hello for a minute.”

She narrows her eyes at you, that Minji look. Then she drops her bag on the floor and saunters towards the kitchen.

“Is there food?” she asks.

“I cooked,” Jin tells her. You shoot him a desperate save me look and follow her into the kitchen.

She busies herself in the fridge and you sit, trying to figure out how to get out there without raising her suspicions even further. 

“So,” she says breezily, without even turning to look at you. “You got laid. Want to spill?”

“Minji!” you cry, horrified.

“What?” she laughs. “It must’ve been good, too. You’ve got that glow.”

Out in the living room, you hear Seokjin choke, erupting into a fit of coughing. You try to look like you don’t even notice.

“Minji,” you complain. “Don’t be gross!”

She grins at you. “Please. I’m jealous. And it’s been a long time for you. So, spill! Who’s the guy?”

Seokjin does save you, then, coming into the kitchen and swatting at Minji’s elbow. “If you’re going to be crass, could you lower your voice? Dad doesn’t need to hear all that.”

She sticks her tongue out at him, then goes back to making her plates. “I’m right though,” she grumbles, definitely at a lower volume. “Look at her. The glow doesn’t lie.”

–

The next night you spend the golden evening hours wrapped up with Jin on your couch. 

“Who’s making dinner for your dad?” you ask, rolling lazily on your back and looking up at him.

“I asked Minji to handle dinner tonight,” he tells you. “I told her I was grabbing dinner with some friends.”

“I don’t love the lying,” you admit, “but this is really nice.” You sigh happily and he pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

“It is nice,” he echoes, a little sadly. 

You think you must both be thinking about how he’s going home in eight more days. 

“Jin?”

“Hm?”

“How come you never told me?”

He shifts so he can look down at you. “What?”

“If you knew you…” Loved me. “...had feelings for me… why didn’t you say anything?”

He makes a face you can’t read; it’s cousins with a grimace but not quite the same. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he counters.

“I can actually answer that,” you tease, poking him in the ribs. He squirms, whining. “It was because I had zero inkling that you’d be interested. The first time I ever thought you could be was… that night… and then I got the idea that you weren’t into it after all.”

You look at him expectantly, as if saying, okay, your turn. 

His ears are red.  “You’re gonna make me say it, huh?” he asks flatly, avoiding your gaze. 

“I am curious,” you murmur, running a hand up his arm. 

He holds you tighter, rolling on his side to get his arms all the way around you.  With you tucked safely in his embrace, he doesn’t have to look at you when he says, “I guess I was scared. The whole time.”

“Of what?” you ask, your voice muffled by his shirt.

You can feel him shrug. “Of fucking it up. Of pissing off Minji to the point it hurt your friendship. Of it not being as good as I built it up in my head. Of not being… enough to make you happy.”

“Hey,” you say sharply. “That could never be true.” You wiggle a little, sitting up a bit so you can look at him again. “Don’t put so much pressure on it,” you tell him gently. “It doesn’t need to be perfect or nothing, you know? We can just… be.”

He rests his head on yours, fingers tracing patterns on your upper arms. “I like the sound of that,” he admits. 

On the coffee table, your phone rings - several long buzzes, the sound even louder in the quiet room. Jin reaches over your shoulder and picks it up, handing it to you.

“It’s my sister,” he tells you.

“Do you want to come have dinner at my dad’s?” Minji asks when you answer. “Jin went out with some friends so I’m here by myself and I am bored.”

“Oh, sorry Minji… I can’t tonight. I’m actually still at the office,” you lie, and Seokjin’s eyebrows shoot up in amusement. 

She groans. “Fine, leave me here to suffer,” she laments.

“You’re all so dramatic,” you tell her. “Jungkook is the only normal one.” Seokjin kicks your shin gently, pretending to scowl in offense.

“Speaking of Jungkook,” Minji says, clearly perking up, “what about tomorrow night? My dad invited over his golf buddy’s whole family, and he wants all of us there to make him look good. Even Jungkook is coming.”

“I fail to see how I fit into this equation,” you tell her flatly. 

She makes a loud noise of frustration, and you pull the phone away from your ear briefly. Seokjin’s eyebrows inch even higher. “It’s just gonna suck,” she whines. “I have to dress up and act like a real adult, and they’re gonna ask me questions about work and if I’m dating and I would just really appreciate it if you were there to make me feel less pathetic.”

“Because I, too, am a disgrace to adulthood?” you clarify.

She cackles. “Because we can roll our eyes at each other and talk shit about them later? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Not as nice as staying in my own home in my sweatpants,” you say, even though you already know you’ll be going. It’s a chance to spend the night with Jin, one week before he flies home again. “Your dad won’t care that he has an extra child all of a sudden?”

“Nah,” she says easily, happy that you’ve consented. “He won’t care at all. Right, Dad?”

When you hang up, Seokjin is looking at you expectantly, waiting for the explanation. 

“I guess I’m attending your dad’s fancy dinner party tomorrow,” you tell him. Then, frowning, you ask, “How’s he hosting that when he can barely get around?”

Jin rolls his eyes. “You get three guesses who’s doing all the cooking, and the first two don’t count.”

You giggle. “Well,” you say happily, “now I get to see you tomorrow night, too!”

–

You are a fool. You know it the second Mr. Kim’s guests come through the front door. The Parks seem nice enough - a married couple near Mr. Kim’s age, both greying and soft-spoken. The problem is the Trojan Horse they bring with them - their daughter, Sumin. She’s around your age, pretty, and you know instantly that this dinner is a set-up.

The whole evening is unbearable - because it goes well. Seokjin, clueless, is so charming that you think even Mr. Park falls in love with him before dessert. 

Around the dinner table, Mr. Kim introduces each of his children. You notice, even if no one else does, that he gives more details about Jin’s university achievements and current career than he does for Minji or Jungkook. Quite a sales pitch, actually. 

You notice, even if no one else does, how Mr. and Mrs. Park cling to every word, their smiles growing when they hear that Seokjin is smart, has a respectable and stable job with solid income. You notice, even if no one else does, how Sumin toys nervously with the bangles on her wrist, looking sideways at Seokjin and blushing prettily. 

Your stomach turns.

“And my daughter’s best friend,” Mr. Kim introduces you, even though no one cares, certainly not the Parks, “who grew up in this house with them. I consider her a second daughter.”

The Parks don’t let Sumin speak for herself, either - they handle the sales pitch the same way Mr. Kim had for Seokjin. Fact for fact - university background, current job, philanthropic efforts, extracurriculars. You’re tempted to text Minji, “Well, I’d HIRE her if nothing else.” 

You largely tune the rest of the conversation out. You’re too busy watching how Seokjin doesn’t even look at her, keeps his eyes on his plate when they’re not on you. You exist on the edge, peripherally involved at best.

That is, until you hear Mr. Park laugh, “And what are the odds that you two would end up in the same city? Is it really so far? Yah, we ask her to come home more often and you’d think we were asking her to get a medical procedure done!”

“The flights are a bit of a hassle,” Sumin says with an apologetic smile. 

“She’s right,” Jin adds, unable to help himself; he had a personal vendetta against the airline that had brought him home this time. “And there are no train lines that make sense. It is a hassle.”

“It’ll be nice for Sumin to have another good friend in the city,” Mrs. Park says with a gracious smile, nodding to Seokjin. “Many of her university friends ended up abroad for work.”

No one notices that Minji and Jungkook are taking turns making faces across the table from each other. No one notices that you’ve gone silent as the grave.

Except Seokjin, who spends all of dinner shooting you looks that you can’t decipher. 

You sigh in blessed relief when they finish the round of cocktails and say their goodbyes, smiles bright, Sumin’s eyes lingering on Seokjin as she follows her parents towards the front door. You’re unsettled as you station yourself at the kitchen sink, eager for a task to keep you busy. It’s clear to you that the Parks - all three - were sold. How easy would it be for Jin to accept this path? It feels like watching someone step into the place in his life that you’d wanted for as long as you can remember, and fit perfectly. More perfectly than you, who seem to barely fit at all. It feels like watching someone else get everything you ever wanted, without even having to work for it. 

Seokjin passes behind where you’re standing and goes through the kitchen door, out to the wooden porch. A minute later, Mr. Kim limps through the room, following after him. It’s not long before you can hear their voices floating through the open kitchen window.

You shouldn’t listen. Behind you, further in the house, you can hear Minji and Jungkook bickering. You grab a dish towel and start wiping down some of the plates you’ve already cleaned.

“Explain to me what the problem was,” Mr. Kim says sternly. You feel your stomach flip again.

“There wasn’t a problem,” Seokjin answers flatly. 

“You were rude,” Mr. Kim admonishes.

“I wasn’t rude,” Jin counters calmly. “I’m just not interested.”

There’s a thump, like Mr. Kim has slapped the porch railing in frustration. “And why not? She’s beautiful, educated, she’s got a good personality, comes from a good family. How could you not be interested? You’re thirty, for the love of God -.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Jin says, and it makes your chest clench how icy he sounds, “but like I said… I’m not interested.”

The silence goes on so long that you think maybe they moved where you can’t hear them anymore. Then, Mr. Kim’s voice floats through the window, quieter than before.

“Is it because of her?”

“Dad -.”

“For the love of God, Seokjin, how many more years do you plan to lose?” Mr. Kim demands, his voice loud again. “When will you figure out that you’re wasting your time?”

You drop the dish towel, manage to cling to the plate you’re holding. You feel nauseated. Is that what this is? A waste of his time? Are you fools for even pretending you could try? 

Minji comes up behind you, silent as a jungle cat. “What are they fighting about?” she whispers.

You push the plate into her hands blindly. “I have to go,” you say, brushing past her and heading through the house, out the front door, and across the yard. 

You’re halfway to your parents’ house when you hear Seokjin yell your name behind you.

“Hey!” he shouts when you don’t stop. You keep walking, but you can hear his footsteps jog to catch you. He catches your arm, gives it a tug to whirl you around.

“What?” you demand.

“Why are you upset?” he asks, eyes scanning your face, as if he’ll find answers. “What’s wrong?”

You laugh bitterly. “Your dad is right,” you say flatly. “You’re wasting your time. I’ve wasted your time for almost ten fucking years. What are we doing? Where is this going? In six days you’re getting on a plane again and we’ll be right where we were before. You’ve got a great option right in front of you - the least selfish choice for me here is to let you take it. The least selfish thing for me to do is to let you go, let you move on.”

You’re not sure when in this little speech you started crying; you aren’t even aware that it’s happening until Seokjin’s thumbs brush your cheeks and then swipe once more at your waterline, flicking away a fresh wave of tears. 

He looks so confused that you almost feel sorry for him. “What?” he asks. “Y/N, I’m obviously not interested in Sumin.”

“Why not?” you shoot back, anger rising - not at him, you don’t think. “Why not be interested in her? She’s perfect - gorgeous, more educated than me, from a richer family. God, she even lives in your city!” You sniff roughly, steeling yourself, feeling something inside you harden like cooling lava into rock. “You should call her,” you tell him firmly. “She’s the better option for you.”

“Why are you talking like this is ending?” he asks, his voice a whisper. “We’re not ending, we’re just starting.”

“I don’t know,” you cry, feeling stupid and a little like you're overreacting, but now that you’ve started you can’t stop. “Why are you picking the harder option? Why choose this? What happy ending can we possibly have?”

“Pick,” he repeats, putting a bit of a laugh into the word. “Who picked? I fell in love with you. There’s no choice about it. You’re the one I want. You’re the one I love. That’s all there is to it.”

This makes you cry harder, and he pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. You bury your face in his shirt, let yourself be selfish for just one more minute.

It’s there, under the streetlight, hiding in Jin’s solid embrace, that Minji finds you.

She steps into the circle of orange glow that the streetlight creates, appearing out of the darkness without a sound. You and Jin both freeze, caught, no time to leap apart. When she speaks, you expect the sound to echo loudly in the quiet. Instead, her voice comes out hushed and shaking as she asks, “What… is going on here?”

<- Prev || Next ->

oop!!!!!!!!!! >:) we have officially reached the point of the outline that read "Minji becomes the Problem" hehehe

thank you so so so much for reading!!!! Part 4: Perilune will post next Friday, June 23rd.

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #seokjin fanfic #jin fic #jin fanfic #seokjin fic #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin smut #jin smut #seokjin fluff #jin fluff #seokjin x you #jin x you #seokjin x y/n #jin x y/n #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin fluff #bts smut #neighbors au #s2l #seokjin angst #jin angst #kim seokjin angst #fic: amalthea

[euphreana]

The Shape of Truth - Chapter 2: Ash to Ash

Chapter 1

Masterpost

-

“NO!” Ambrosius dashed forward.

The tower worker dropped the noose and backed up, startled. Ambrosius fell to his knees and scooped Ballister up into his arms. He was limp, like a rag doll. His head flopped to the side lifelessly.

“No…”

Ambrosius pressed fingers against his neck, hoping against hope he’d find a pulse, that Ballister had somehow survived the hanging. There was nothing.

“No… no no no!” Ambrosius broke down. He held Ballister's body close, shaking as tears fell down his face. He’d been too late. He’d been too late! He screamed his despair, as if letting loose would somehow fix everything.

“Get him out of here.” The Director’s voice could just be heard over the sound of cameras clicking in the background.

Ambrosius found himself being lifted from the ground and the body pried from his grasp. This time, he didn’t have the willpower to fight back. The world was a blur as he was escorted from the courtyard and shoved into a small storeroom in the back. The door locked behind him. 

Ambrosius stood in the middle of the room in stunned silence. He couldn’t think. His world had been shattered. His best friend, the man he’d loved, first a murderer, and then taken away. Taken away and never coming back. They were supposed to have had a future together. They’d work their way up the ranks, together. Get a house near The Institute, together. A house they could grow old in, together. All of that… suddenly gone. There was no fixing this.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard the lock click open behind him.

“Come on, everyone’s gone now.” the voice of a guard came.

Stumbling, Ambrosius stepped back outside. The courtyard was empty, as if nothing had happened at all.

“Where… where is the body,” he whispered.

“I don’t think—”

“Please. I just want to see him.”

The guard huffed and pointed down a hallway. “Just don’t make a scene again.”

Ambrosius shuffled down the hallway mindlessly. Sure enough, there was an open room at the end with a light on. Inside, another guard sat in a chair against the wall, scrolling through her phone. In the center of the room was a gurney. Ballister lay on it, still wearing the prison clothes he'd been hung in.

The guard glanced up at Ambrosius as he entered. Ambrosius paused.

“I just want to see him. We were… friends.”

“Sure. The morgue’s on their way.” the guard turned back to her phone.

Ambrosius pulled up a chair next to the gurney. He picked up Ballister's hand. It was getting cold. Jaw clenched, Ambrosius held the dead hand in his own.

At least the hanging was a swift death - a quick snap of the neck, and he'd been gone. Even his face had only changed color a little.

“Did he say anything?” Ambrosius found himself asking aloud, “Before they…”

“Not really.” The guard responded. “He was pretty quiet the whole time. Didn’t even say anything at the sentencing when they asked for a statement. Like he completely checked out.”

Ambrosius let that sink in.

“I should have been there for…” Ambrosius dropped the hand in order to dry his eyes. “If I hadn't taken so long…”

The guard shifted uneasily.

“I mean, we all knew what was coming. There was no stopping it.”

Ambrosius looked at Ballister's face, absolutely still, as if in an unnaturally deep sleep. How many times had Ambrosius watched him sleeping before, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest? Ambrosius wanted to shake him, as if the body would open its eyes, alive and full of life again.

“Was there any stopping it?”

Footsteps came down the hall before the guard could reply.

“Here for the body.” A man wearing the uniform of a morgue worker entered the room.

The guard jerked her head towards the gurney.

Ambrosius stood.

“I'm going with him.”

The morgue worker looked uneasy.

“Only facility personnel are allowed…” He hesitated - he dared not defy someone who was both a noble and a knight. He glanced at the guard.

The guard shrugged.

It was a short trip to the morgue. Ambrosius rode in the back of the van, holding Ballister's hand the whole way. On arrival, he followed the gurney down hallways to a room lined with furnaces. Ambrosius stared as the workers filed paperwork and transferred Ballister to a large cardboard box.

“He was a knight… He deserves a proper burial.” he found himself saying.

The workers glanced at him briefly before getting back to work.

“Orders from the top - immediate cremation.” One of them said as they wheeled the box to an open furnace.

“Wait!”

The workers stopped again.

Ambrosius stepped forward.

“Just… Give me a moment.”

He went to the box and pulled the lid back. Ballister lay there, frozen in time. Ambrosius gingerly placed a hand against the side of his cold face.

“I love you.” He whispered, too quiet for the workers to hear. “I'm so sorry…” He bit back tears.

He stood there, trying to keep himself together. Then one of the workers cleared their throat.

“We're on a schedule here.”

Ambrosius pulled back, wishing one last time that Ballister would open his eyes, that he'd just been asleep the whole time. It didn't happen.

The morgue workers replaced the lid and slid the box into the furnace, latching the door shut after it.

The furnace took over two hours to burn the body. Ambrosius watched it burn, the love of his life disappearing in front of him. Had it really been just that morning he'd seen him alive on the camera feed?

Eventually, the furnace shut off and cooled. The workers scraped the remains into a container for final processing, then scooped the ash into a plastic bag.

Ambrosius tried to intervene, asking to be given the remains.

“No. This needs to go to The Institute. Director's orders.” The worker told him.

Ambrosius felt crushed. Then the worker sighed, reached under the counter for another bag, and scooped some ash into it - no more than a handful.

“Here.” The worker held it out to Ambrosius.

Ambrosius took the bag, holding it tight in his hand.

“Thank you.”

The walk back to the dorms took forever. Everywhere Ambrosius looked, he saw a memory. Sitting on a bench together, watching the sun set behind the wall. Practicing swords drills together on the green after hours. Cracking jokes together about the food at the chow hall. Too many memories. Too much. He squeezed the bag with its handful of ash tightly. It was all he had left.

He broke down the moment he closed the door to his room. He let loose all the pain, all the grief that had piled on him that day. All the stress from the past few days since the queen's murder. Everything.

An alarm on his phone went off. Dinnertime. Ambrosius wasn’t hungry. And he definitely wasn’t ready to see anyone. Then there was a knock at the door.

“Go away!” Ambrosius yelled, his voice cracking.

The knocking came harder. Whoever it was wasn’t leaving.

Ambrosius got to his feet and stumbled to the door. “I said, go—” He threw open the door to see… no one. Ambrosius looked around. The hallway was empty. Nobody could have been knocking.

Great. Now he was hearing things. He closed the door and turned to throw himself back on his bed… But there was someone else sitting on his bed.

“What—”

The pink-haired teenager stuck a hand out. “The name’s Nimona.” 

-

Chapter 3

#angst #nimona #fic #the shape of truth #okay time to lighten things up a little... next Tuesday

[pamelasmuse]

🌹Paris🌹

Pairings: dbf!Sirius x Lupin!fem! Reader

Summary: you call Sirius while he’s at work and ask him about your future

Warnings: FLUFF!! Illusions to smut. Nicknames like baby, sweetheart etc. A-lot of fluff let me know if i missed anything.

A/n: this is my first fic so be patient with me loves❤️

Sirius sits in his office chair shifting uncomfortably. He looks at the photo to his right, a photo he took when you two went on a weekend getaway. You somehow talked to your parents into letting you spend a weekend with your “friends” in london but in all reality you spent the whole weekend with sirius beacuse conveniently had a work conference thats what he told your dad.

Sirius picked up his phone and dialed your home phone number. You answered sweetly,

“Hello?”

“Hello, Princess” Sirius spoke

You smiled and turned on your side kicking you feet in the air.

“Whats going on?” You questioned

Sirius usually didn’t call this late at night so you knew something was wrong.

He sighed into the phone

“Just a long day full of meetings and horrible people.”

You nodded along even though he couldn’t see you

“It just got me thinking…” he trailed off

You sat up leaning against your headboard

“Thinking about what?”

“About you” he said quickly “about you and wishing there was some way i could have you all the time, in front of people.”

Something inside you fluttered he never spoke about you like this but than realization came to you about the people he was talking about

“Like my dad?” You quietly whispered

A sadness grew over you. You loved Sirius and you wanted to be with him in the same way free of judgment.

“What if we went another trip?” He asked

You smiled into the phone

“Mmm” your mind raced thinking about you and Sirius somewhere far away somewhere no one knew you, somewhere you could kiss him in public.

“Where would you want to go, Sweetheart?”

You thought about his question. You wanted it to be romantic and you wanted it to be far enough from your dad but close enough it wouldn’t cost a fortune

“What about Paris?”

Sirus relaxed in his chair leaning back as he also mused the idea. The idea of you and him being normal like a couple without sneaking around.

“ I think that is a wonderful idea, baby”

You moved around in your bed

“Sirius?”

“Yes” he cooed

“I miss you”

He smiled at your words

“I know baby… i miss you to” He wasn’t usually one to be this soft with you but he needed something different he needed you and he needed you now before he did something reckless like confess his overwhelming love for you in front of your dad, his best friend, just so then you wouldn’t have to sneak around

“Why dont you come by after school tomorrow, we can plan our trip and maybe something else.. if you’re good.”

You felt your self blush

“Okay”…. “I love you” you whispered

“I love you too, goodnight”

Sirius hung up the phone. He went on his computer and booked two tickets to paris❤️

#sirius black #remus lupin #harry potter #sirius black smut #sirius black fluff #sirius black fic #lana del rey #lana del rey fic #paris #sirus black x reader #dbf!Sirius black

[drakiandh]

Shifting Jewels - Chapter Two, Strawberry Trip

Another one. Imma update every Saturday in hopes that I can make these chapters without stress. I am in love so far, and am currently making their designs. Anyways, happy reading! Words - 4,265

Star’s gaze lingered on the fallen gem, its vibrant red hues now dulled by the golden corruption that had taken hold. His weapons returned to their places within his gem with the flick on his true hand. The air around him hung heavy with a mix of emotions, a complex tapestry woven from joy, grief, and fear.

Joy surfaced at the sight of Painite, an old companion he thought lost to the ravages of time. Grief welled within him, knowing that despite the years that had passed, Painite still harbored resentment and hatred. Fear, however, clutched at his core, an icy grip that tightened with the looming threat of the corruption that had claimed his friend.

Approaching cautiously, Star moved towards the gem as if the very act of proximity might trigger the other’s reform. He hesitated before gently nudging it with his foot, as though testing the waters. When no reaction followed, he reached down and cradled the corrupted gem in his hands, a sense of regret lingering in his touch.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment. His finger traced the intricate cracks on the gem’s surface. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

Before Painite could attempt to reform, Star enveloped the gem in a sphere of deep navy blue, cradling it gently. He hesitated to send the other gem to the temple back in Beach City, opting instead to shrink down the bubble small enough to fit it into his pockets. Clutching the bubbled gem in his hands, he stood and walked over to the nearby pillar. Retrieving his jacket, Star concealed the gem under the fabric, beginning the journey back to the nearby human town. As he walked, he couldn’t bear the silence, so he decided to speak aloud.

“Things have gotten better, at least in my combat skills,” Star murmured into the open air, absentmindedly rubbing the bubble with his thumb. “When I last visited Rose, I could handle nearly three whole minutes in a fight with her. I wonder how she is; it’s been, what, a hundred years since I’ve visited?”

He was certain that if Painite could hear him, he’d be complaining about Star talking his ears off. Star weakly chuckled at the thought, the memory quickly tainted by their current relationship. “It wasn’t my fault,” he began, hopping down the stone path while keeping the gem within the bubble steady. “Well, it was, but could you blame me? I couldn’t bear the feeling of being just some slave to them. Blue was cold and rude to me, assigning me a purpose without even checking if I was functioning properly. Sure, I’m glad she didn’t, because if I wasn’t, she would’ve shattered me, but the thought would’ve been nice. Yellow was just an ass to me, telling me to ensure Pink would win the war. I’m not even going to mention White; she was terrifying. Pink was a lot better before, well, you know. She was the only one who treated me like someone alive, but even then, she was distant and only really interacted for war-related matters.” Star rambled.

“When Rose offered my freedom, she treated me like I was something alive, not just some tool to see into the future. How could you have stayed? Did you like being their slave? Being nothing more than what you were made to do?”

Star could already imagine the words Painite would say if he wasn’t poofed and bubbled in his hands. “My purpose is what I am made to do. Why should I fight it?”

“But what about after it?” Star responded to the whispers of the question. “After the war, would you be shattered? Poofed? If you were lucky, you’d be taken by Yellow and sent to fight there. But is there really nothing for you other than just claiming worlds filled with life to make more repressed gems? Earth is a free world, Painite. It’s not too late to renounce your allegiance to the Diamonds. I doubt they would even take you back if you somehow get to Homeworld again. They’ve probably already made thousands of Painites on some claimed world of theirs, and maybe they’ve already created thousands of Star Sapphires too. So what’s the point when they’ve already got copies of us?”

They arrived in town before Star could continue, prompting the blue gem to sigh and tuck the blue bubble safely into his pocket. After ensuring the bubble wouldn’t pop when he moved, he shook his still-blue hands back into their false brown color and began his trek toward the nearest warp pad, conveniently located on the other side of the human town.

“Hey, Star!” The Sapphire turned his head toward the human who walked up to him, smiling nervously. He recognized this person as the one who had encountered him in the forest.

“Hey, Carl,” Star greeted, faking a warm smile. He chuckled, clearly nervous.

“I heard a big bang earlier; did you find that big beast and take care of it?” The human asked. Star’s hand drifted down to the bubble hidden in his pocket.

“Yep!” he responded, popping the ‘p’. “You won’t have to worry about it now.”

“Thank god,” the human sighed before offering a genuine smile. “Want to stay over for a while? I know a good hotel-”

“No, thank you, though.” Star cut the human off, still smiling. “I’ve got to get back home.”

“You sure?” The human asked.

“Sure,” Star nodded. The human watched him for a moment before shrugging.

“Your loss.”

Star walked off before the human could say more, his smile falling when the human was out of sight. The Sapphire pulled his hood up to cover his expression, walking as casually and as fast as he could. He’d been to this town many times before, unintentionally earning himself a friendly traveler reputation. And true to his nature, he strived for everything to be pleasant around him.

He smiled and waved at each human that greeted him, engaging in brief conversations with those who asked him questions, and graciously accepting any small gifts offered. By the time he arrived at the edge of the village, the sun was dipping down the horizon, and Star felt the weight of exhaustion settling in.

“Alright,” he muttered, more to the gem in his pocket than to himself. “The warp pad should just be down this road.” The shadows of the night devoured the last remnants of sunlight, and hidden pockets of light illuminated his path. His own gem began to glow with its blue hue, casting a gentle radiance that helped him navigate through the darkness. Intrigued, he took out Painite’s gem, holding it in his hand to see if it, too, would glow. Surprisingly, it did, but the light was subdued and took on a purple hue due to the blue bubble encasing it. Star wondered how Painite’s true red color would look in the dark, but he dismissed the thought, assuming it would be dull and muted, much like Painite’s current appearance. Star pondered what might have happened to his once-vibrant friend for his colors to fade into a pale pink. Was it the corruption? It seemed unlikely, as most of the Corrupted gems he encountered retained the vibrant colors of their original forms. So, what had happened to change Painite’s appearance?

The warp pad glowed subtly in the surroundings, concealed yet unmistakable. Star felt a tired smile spread across his face as he stepped onto it, clutching Painite’s gem close to his chest to ensure it wouldn’t slip from his grasp in the beam. The white light enveloped him, a low hum filling the air as he traversed to his home. The journey took only a few moments, and as the light dissipated upon arrival, he stepped off the pad and took a deep, unnecessary breath. His home, Mask Island, was saturated with the sweet scents of nature and pure water. Though he didn’t require air, he appreciated the olfactory experiences it offered. His smile grew a bit as he strolled down the familiar path he had tread countless times.

His eyes lifted to the split mountain in the center of the island, a frown creasing his features as he recalled the event that had caused it to crack open. He was grateful that Rose, Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst had managed to thwart the Cluster, just as he had foreseen many years ago. When he first glimpsed that timeline, concern had gripped him about Rose’s fate, fearing that it might be altered, as if she wasn’t truly there. Yet, as the world beneath his feet still flourished under the first rays of the sun, he found ease, finding he had nothing to worry about.

His home, aside from being part of Mask Island itself, consisted of a simple cave within the mountain that had remained unscathed. While it lacked the embellishments he had envisioned, its dull grey walls still emitted the comforting yellow bioluminescence. It wasn’t filled to the brim with decorations, but it was home—his home. However, he knew there was one more task to accomplish before he could retire for the night. Stepping to the center of the cave, he summoned his shadows, drawing them from his gem’s light to form a large, protective dome. Placing Painite’s gem at the dome’s center, he stepped outside, ensuring Painite wouldn’t escape. Using one of his shadow hands, he punctured the blue bubble, and Painite’s gem fell to the ground.

Star stared at the freed gem, nerves coiling in his chest as he waited. He recalled that Painite had only poofed once before during the many years they’d known each other, and it had taken a considerable amount of time for him to reform. Star wondered how long it would take now that he was corrupted.

As it turned out, not very long. Painite’s gem began to glow in its vibrant red hue, illuminating the cave as his form emerged. Star winced as it shivered and glitched from the crack, but Painite reformed with a gasp. The red gem fell to his knees, frantically surveying his surroundings, eyes wide with shock. Upon spotting Star, an animalistic hiss escaped from his mouth, and he instinctively retreated as far as he could. Star winced, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender to try and calm the other gem down.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Star said softly, slowly, keeping a careful eye on Painite. The red gem continued to stare back, his mind not fully present, as he emitted a low growl. Star took a few steps back, recognizing it as a warning growl from past experiences. He patiently waited as Painite gradually regained his composure. After a few minutes, Painite blinked and slowly looked around.

“…Where am I?” Painite asked, his gaze returning to Star. The Sapphire didn’t respond immediately, lowering his hands and allowing Painite to stand, leaning on the dark navy of his containment.

“You’re on Mask Island,” Star explained gently, enunciating carefully to ensure his words reached the red gem. “You’re in my home.” To his surprise, Painite emitted a sharp laugh.

“I’m in your home? This hardly looks like a temple,” Painite remarked, his voice trembling slightly from exhaustion. Star frowned, torn between leaving Painite to rest and pressing for the information he sought.

“How did you survive the Diamonds’ blast?” he inquired, stepping forward until he was a foot away from the dome. Painite glared at him, his teeth clenched and bared in an obvious threat, but he appeared too weary to do more. In fact, it seemed Painite knew he was too fatigued to fight, so he opted to provide an answer instead.

“I hid in Earth’s crust,” Painite replied simply.

“But how?” Star pressed, unsatisfied with the brevity of the explanation. His insistence drew a hiss from Painite.

“The Cluster didn’t get corrupted,” Painite explained slowly. “It was too deep for that. I thought if I got deep enough, I would be safe.” He paused, shifting his weight slightly. “I was not fast enough.”

That was all Star needed to hear. “Okay,” he breathed, nodding to himself. His eyes snapped to Painite’s leg as it glitched, forcing the red gem down with a shout. Star responded by shouting the other’s name and bringing a hand to his gem, summoning the old healing liquid from the depths of his memories. Luckily, the glitching on Painite’s form faded quickly, leaving the red gem on the ground. “Pain,” Star called, waiting until the other’s single eye stared at him. He lifted the liquid floating in his hand, holding it out in an offering. “I can heal your gem if-”

“No!” Painite hissed, wincing as he got to his feet again. Star recoiled as if he’d been hit, surprise evident on his features.

“No?” Star repeated, confused. “What do you mean no?”

“I will heal my own gem,” Painite responded, leaning heavily on the wall of the dome. “I do not need your help to do so.”

“Dude,” Star said incredulously. “Your gem is cracked, a good hit and it would shatter.”

“Then so be it,” Painite responded, finally gaining enough strength to only leave a hand on the wall in case he fell again. “But I will heal on my own.” Star stared at him, mouth slightly open in confusion.

“Wait? You don’t mind being shattered?” He asked, watching as Painite slowly began to walk closer, using the wall to guide him.

“No,” Painite responded simply. Star waited for something else, an explanation, a reason, anything, but all he got was silence. So instead he prodded. “Why?”

“Why?” Painite repeated, stepping closer. “Why not?”

“Why not? Because if you get shattered, you’d die,” Star said. “You want to die?”

“I don’t mind dying,” Painite responded, his arm slowly lifting in a gesture Star recognized well.

“Well, you should,” Star responded, keeping his eyes on Painite’s face. “You shouldn’t mind dying. There’s so much to live for on this planet.” That got a laugh from the other, short and fake.

“There is nothing on this planet worth living for, other than it being a good gem-producer planet,” Painite responded. “Besides, it has a new purpose. Soon the cluster should emerge; I felt those quakes.”

“The cluster has already been calmed,” Star said, causing Painite to pause. “I saw it 5321 years and two weeks ago. The cluster has been subdued, and I don’t see it returning anytime soon.” Star didn’t flinch as Painite’s arm thrust forward in a pathetic attempt to hurt the other. He did flinch when Painite’s arm pushed against the dome before recoiling with much more force than necessary, forcing the gem back and knocking him off balance.

Painite landed on his back, and a horrified gasp escaped Star as he heard the tell-tell sounds of a gem cracking. Painite’s form erupted into glitches, lasting much longer than the one before. When it settled down enough for Painite to reform fully, the red gem rolled onto his side and laid there. Star saw a few small yellow shards fall to the floor, bringing a kind of dread Star hadn’t felt since the Diamonds decided to corrupt the rebellion.

“Painite! Your gem!” He said, dissipating the dome and rushing forward. He knelt by the other, earning himself a weak hiss. He held out his hand with the healing water, his hand shaking slightly. “Please, please, please just let me heal you.” He begged, hating how the Diamonds had made him. To never give, to never act without being asked first. He hated how he was made to just be a future seeing and better pearl.

“…Only the Diamonds… can heal a gem…” Painite said weakly, glaring at Star.

“Come on dude, all you have to say is yes! You know how I was made, you know!” Star begged, tears beginning to pool in his eyes as fear caused him to shake. Painite simply stared, his expression softening from the hardness Star was so unused to. But just as quickly as it came, it vanished, leaving Painite to turn away.

“No.” He hissed.

“What is your problem?!” Star yelled, dropping the water and allowing it to fall to the ground as he stood up. He was tired of his friend’s attitude, hating the stubborn nature he had once loved. “Why won’t you let me heal you?!” Painite didn’t respond, only laying still as he looked away. Star groaned, burying his hands into his hair as he fought the urge to go destroy something.

“Fine!” He finally yelled. “Be that way! I’ll be back in the morning, and when I do, I better get an explanation as to why you’re being such a stubborn and stupid ass!” He reerected the dome with a grunt and turned on his heel, storming out in the open night. He left for the warp pad, knowing exactly where to go to vent his frustrations.

╭──────────.★..─╮

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

┊ ┊ ⋆˚         

✧. ┊         

⋆ ★

When Star returned to Mask Island the next morning, he wasn’t surprised to find his cave empty. Instead, he stood there, gazing at the tiny yellow shards scattered on the ground. A heavy sigh escaped from Star’s lips as he stepped off the wall he had leaned on, embarking on the paths he had etched into the earth. He wandered aimlessly, not actively seeking Painite, already resigned to the likelihood of not encountering the other gem for another millennium or so. The idea of visiting Rose crossed his mind—it had indeed been a substantial span of time.

With that contemplation, he altered his course toward the island’s warp pad. As he strolled, he observed the quaint watermelon creatures that now populated the island. Star had even picked up a smattering of their language, learning from them that his vision of the Malachite fusion had indeed come to fruition. The thought was disheartening, but he found solace in knowing that the remaining Crystal Gems had managed to handle the situation in his absence.

A sudden voice interrupted his musings, prompting him to shake off the inquisitive watermelon beings who had tagged along. Swiftly and quietly, he dashed towards the voice, halting in astonishment when he beheld Painite, forcefully pressing his corrupted foot onto the warp pad. Painite’s countenance twisted into a snarl, and it seemed as though he was barely restraining himself from summoning his weapon and assaulting the pad. “Why won’t you work?!” Painite bellowed in frustration.

Star hesitated, well aware of Painite’s propensity for coldness and hostility. Despite the lingering anger that urged him to confront Painite, his concern for his former companion took precedence. “Painite?” he called out tentatively, taking a cautious step forward. Painite’s head snapped towards him with a sickening crack, and for a fleeting moment, Painite softened slightly with surprise. Yet, that softness vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a snarl as the red gem bared his teeth.

“What do you want?” Painite hissed, his attention fixated on activating the warp. Star assumed Painite regarded him as either too insignificant a threat or had already accepted his fate.

“I was just going to visit someplace,” Star said, maintaining a distance. Painite continued to glare, and Star respected his space. “Is something wrong?”

“You,” Painite hissed bitterly. “You’re the problem. If it wasn’t for you cracking my gem further, I would be able to leave this diamond-forsaken planet.” Star sighed, nodding apologetically.

“I am sorry for that,” Star said earnestly. “I can heal you if you want.” He flinched as Painite’s glare intensified.

Painite scoffed, and his expression hardened. “You think I’d trust you after what you did? I don’t need your help. I will find that damn fountain of yours and heal myself.”

Star paused. “Wait, fountain?”

Painite sighed. “Yes, the rumor of some healing fountain the rebellion used to heal gems. If it exists, I intend to find it.”

“Oh, it does,” Star said, earning a slightly less angry, confused look from Painite. “I helped make it.” Painite stared at him for a long moment, causing Star to fidget slightly under the gaze. Suddenly, Painite seized Star’s coat, pulling them close enough that their noses nearly touched. Due to Painite being on the warp pad, Star found himself shorter than the other, causing his face to redden from the unexpected proximity.

“Take me to the fountain,” Painite commanded, utilizing the authoritative tone Star had missed. The closeness and the rough voice almost next to his ear made Star melt momentarily, surrendering himself to the unexpected intensity. A good shake, however, brought him back to his senses, and he straightened up.

“R-Right! Sure!” Star stammered out, offering a crooked grin. Painite scoffed and released the Sapphire. Star yelped as he fell, his legs too jelly-like to hold him up. He groaned as he hit the ground, laying there for a moment before sitting up and rubbing the back of his head.

“You’ve been around too many humans,” Painite stated. “You’re acting like one.” Star laughed sheepishly before standing and hopping onto the warp pad, determined to push aside the warmth of the other’s breath on his face. Now was not the time to dwell on past connections.

“To the garden!” Star declared, waiting for the white light of the warp pad to envelop them. Nervousness crept over Star as the warp pad failed to illuminate, and Painite shot him a pointed look.

“Well?” Star flinched, rubbing the back of his neck.

“The warp pad to the garden must’ve been damaged,” he admitted, laughing nervously in an attempt to defuse the growing tension beside him.

“What?” Painite demanded. Panicking, Star scrambled to find a solution.

“I can take you to the next closest warp pad!” he suggested hurriedly. “A-And I can take you there directly!”

Painite seemed to ponder the option, studying Star intensely. Just as Star was about to propose another alternative, Painite spoke, his tone gruff, “Fine.”

“Wait, really?” Star asked, taken aback.

“Do not act like an idiot, Sapphire,” Painite hissed. “Just take me to the fountain, and I will let you live until I can repair the homeworld warp.” Star furrowed his brow but nodded nonetheless. With a simple thought, the warp pad activated, transporting them to the next nearest warp. The short journey was enveloped in silence, with only the subtle hum of the light surrounding them. Star considered offering an apology, as he had done millennia ago, but he hesitated, turning his gaze away.

The light subsided, revealing a sprawling field of strawberries and butterflies drifting gently on the breeze. Painite inhaled sharply, prompting Star to steal a glance at his reaction. The corrupted gem appeared lost, gazing over the field with an expression Star couldn’t quite decipher. After a moment, Painite blinked and stepped off the pad, unintentionally crushing a strawberry in the process. He then turned toward Star with a pointed look, his expression now devoid of the earlier confusion. Star nodded and hopped off, following an invisible path. Yet, curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn’t resist the allure of conversation.

“Sooo….” Star began, glancing at Painite from the corner of his eye. “Did you ever fight here?” Painite remained silent, and Star assumed he wouldn’t respond.

“Yes,” Painite finally replied, prompting a surprised “huh?” from Star.

“Wait, really? That’s cool! What was it like?” Star inquired, turning around and walking backward to face his travel companion. Painite frowned and swatted away a curious butterfly.

“Were you not there? You should have seen it for our Diamond,” Painite retorted, earning a wince from Star.

“Well, I had foreseen it. I told Pink that the battle would be horrible, but that there were going to be multiple. There were so many that I don’t exactly remember the details,” Star responded.

“Speak her name with respect,” Painite hissed before continuing. “This place is where the rebellion turned the tide of the war. And I was there from the beginning.”

“Really?” Star asked. “What was the biggest one? I remember you were a commander then.” Painite frowned, but Star knew just how to encourage him to share war stories.

Star could see the internal struggle on Painite’s face, but eventually, he sighed and began recounting the tales, much to Star’s delight. “The most significant battle I led was the one that changed the tide. It was destructive, and in the first half, we were winning.” A slight smile appeared on Painite’s face, lost in reminiscence. “We nearly shattered half of the rebellion forces with barely a scratch on our own. I could easily see their attempts and their paths, making it easy to thwart their plans.”

However, his smile quickly faded into a solemn expression, and Star noticed Painite absentmindedly rubbing his gem. “I became too confident, too cocky, and I paid the price. A single gem’s strike took out the leader of our forces, and the battle shifted in their favor. With my crack, I couldn’t fight on the front lines or guide my forces, and that’s the only reason you won.”

As the atmosphere turned somber, Star chimed in with a meek “Oh.” After a brief pause, he ventured, “I remember that day. I’m sorry.”

“Your apologies will not change the past, Star,” Painite responded, saying the name with a surprising absence of hatred, momentarily catching Star off guard. However, the resurgence of resentment was swift, and Painite’s gaze transformed into a piercing glare. “Now, how long will this ‘trip’ take?”

“Oh, just a little over a month.”

“What?!”

#prohibitedwish #prismo #prismo the wishmaster #prohibited wish #human prismo #kinda #adventure time prismo #fionna and cake #prismo fionna and cake #shifting jewels au #scarab the god auditor #scarab fionna and cake #human scarab #the scarab #fionna and cake scarab #prismo x scarab #scarab #scarab adventure time #scarab x prismo #prohibitedwish fanfic #prohibitedwish au

[wooahaes]

second honeymoon

pairing: non-idol!bang chan x gn!reader

prompt: cabin

word count: 0.6k~

warnings: married au! slight implications of sex in the future lol. also some talks of expanding the family (in terms of getting a dog, but there are implications of at least talking abt kids again sometime).

daisy’s notes: hgnnnghg him :( <3

This trip into the mountains had been painted as your second honeymoon, and your excitement had infected Chris at some point. Not that he was complaining: the same thing had happened the first time when the two of you went to the beach after you got married. It was only fair that you two went where you really wanted to go since you had the time to.

You’d let yourself into the cabin, key in hand while Chris was carrying the bags up from the car, and it felt like the two of you were complete newlyweds again. The half a year of marriage between the two of you was practically nonexistent as you flitted from one place to another to check out everything you knew the cabin already had. The two of you had passed by a grocery store in the town on the way up and could drive back down to get groceries.

“We can make breakfast together in the morning,” you’d called back over your shoulder while Chris was unpacking your bags. “Oh! And we should buy hot chocolate so we can get cozy by the fire--”

Chris merely smiled to himself before making his way out to you, wrapping his arms around you. “Why don’t we sit down for a few minutes?”

And you laughed softly, leaning into him. “Sorry,” you hummed, “I’m just excited. I loved the beach and all, but this...”

He pressed a chaste kiss into your neck. “I know! It’s your turn to be excited,” he said. “I just want a few minutes to rest from the drive here.”

“Oh. Right,” you giggled, turning your face so you could press a quick kiss onto his cheek. “Okay. Sorry--”

He guided you over to the couch, bringing you into his lap as he snuggled in. “At least I have an excuse to cuddle with you.”

“Like you needed one.”

He chuckled. “So... Now that we’re here and I can seduce you...” He tightened his hold on you just a little, “and since we’re moving in a few months...”

“Mhm?”

“I was thinking... Maybe we could expand our family a little?” He pressed a small kiss into your neck. “Just a little.”

You looked up. “Like a kid...?”

“No! No,” he said, “I mean, maybe one day--But... We talked about getting a dog.”

“Oh!” You shifted, pulling away from your husband long enough to turn and face him. “I think... We can definitely start looking into getting a dog.”

“Wait, really?” He smiled, “I had this whole thing planned out where I was going to talk to you about how we’d finally have the space and--and there’s shelters where we can adopt one, and--Are you serious?”

You nodded. “I know you’ve been wanting a dog,” you said, “and we always said we’d get one once we moved out of the apartment.”

He kissed you hard, before peppering kisses on your face. “I really was ready to seduce you just to get you to think about it.”

“You can still seduce me,” you teased. “I’m okay with that.”

He laughed softly. “I’ll do it in the morning. I think I’m going to crash after dinner tonight,” he said. “But I’ll make you breakfast in bed, too. Felix and I were looking at some puppies together...”

“Uh-huh?” You smiled. “Already cheating on Berry again, I see.”

“Nooo--It’s not cheating, it’s adoption! She’s going to love her little sibling once we bring her over, too!”

Even though you knew the way Berry was when she was around other dogs, you merely laughed and kissed your husband. “I’m sure she will.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao​

#wooahaes.fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #stray kids imagine #skz fics #stray kids fics #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #chris bang x reader #chris bang x you #wooahaes.dec22

[bellysoupset]

Hello, I wasn't sure if my request went through so I thought I'd resend it. If you already got it please ignore. I was wonder if you could write something where Leo gets really sick before a big game and keeps insisting he can play when he clearly can't. With Jonah and Luke taking care of him and having to force him back to bed. I love when Jonah goes all 'doctor mode' and is all sweet and protective of Leo. Those two are so cute. Thank you!

Hey Book! I hope this is what you had in mind! This is LONG. TW: Mention of depression and Leo's intrusive thoughts (including mild suicide ideation). It's nothing as harsh as the TW make it sound, but be warned.

-------

It was the last game of the season. Or better, his last game, period. With graduation rapidly approaching, Leo knew he couldn't miss this. Besides, it was at home. How fitting, the last game ever happening in his own town.

He was more than a little emotional, had been since waking up. Leo wasn't one to break into tears over anything, but he had pretty much spent the entirety of his shower that morning tear eyed as he mulled over the fact there would be no more bus trips, no more euphoria after the game, no more... None of that.

Jonah had eyed him weirdly as they drove together to campus, but he had been in a rush to get to class, so any questioning he had was pushed aside.

Leo hadn't been able to focus at all in his thesis, the one he needed to present by the end of the month in order to graduate. The one his entire future hinged on. Yeah, that one little paper - paper which was currently 76 pages and counting.

"Hey kiddo," Vince messed his hair as he passed by his table in the cafeteria, "too hot to sit with us?"

"I'm not kiddo..." Leo groaned, looking up from the sandwich he had been staring at for the past 20 minutes, unable to stomach another bite. Everything felt off.

"Well, stop sulking and come sit with us," Vince scoffed, waiting by the bench. His own plate was piled up with food, considering the campus cafeteria had an all-you-can-eat buffet, for a pretty reasonable sum. Leo eyed it and grimaced, it didn't look appetizing at all.

"Found this one sulking near the architecture nerds," Vince announced as he sat down next to Lucas, Leo's own spot clear to his right.

"What's with the face?" Mikey asked, while Aidan merely looked up from his plate. Leo shrugged, sitting down and tearing the crust out of his sandwich.

"Nothing, I'm fine."

This seemed enough for the rest of the team, they were hyped after all, but not to Lucas. His friend smiled at him.

"It sucks that's the last one, right?"

Leo nodded, glad that someone understood him. Much to his dismay Vince let out a scoff, but not before wrapping an arm around Leo's shoulders and tugging on him, basically forcing his face to meet his armpit in an overly affectionate headlock.

"It might be the last official one, but we're so not gonna stop playing. Or seeing each other, I literally have gym with you tomorrow, Leo."

"Let go off me!" Leo groaned, trying to fight him, "I said it's fine."

"Yeah, I heard you, kid," Vince ignored his complaints, chuckle rumbling in his chest and Leo punched his side in order to free himself. He was dizzy by the time he managed to sit up, but the guys were laughing and even starting to feel wretched... Leo couldn't help but feel a little better with Vin's words.

"Banks is coming for tonight's game, right?" Luke asked and it took Leo a whole second to understand he meant Jonah.

"Yeah, he switched shifts with Wendy."

"Wait, what?" Vince whined, pouting, "aw, c'mon, that's not fair, I thought she was coming..."

Leo shrugged, "maybe she switched with someone too? No idea." Not that he cared or wanted Wendy there, he thought viciously, then frowned at his own thought.

He didn't want to be a shitty person, even in his own head. Vince was grumpily stabbing his food with his fork and Leo moved so he wouldn't smell it.

The rest of lunch went by quicker than he would've liked. Leo knew they were trying to involve him in the conversation, Vince asking about his thesis and seeming genuinely interested, but he couldn't hold a conversation. His whole body felt heavy and achy... And he wanted to be in bed.

"Hey," Lucas circled him as they finished up, planting both hands on Leo's shoulders, seeing as he was still sitting down, "are you good, Leo?"

"Yeah, I'm fine-"

"So you keep saying, but I'm not sure if I buy it," Luke frowned, then before Leo could stop him, he moved a hand from his shoulder to his forehead, big paw covering most Leo's face.

"Lucas, stop being fucking weird!"

"I think you're feverish," Lucas sounded concerned, "a little bit, I'm not sure."

"I'm fine," Leo pushed his hand away, glaring at him. He immediately missed the touch, if for no other reason than the fact it helped sustain his heavy head, "stop being a weirdo, let go off me."

"Uhm," Luke squinted at him, but did step back so Leo could get up from the bench, "I'm gonna keep my eye on you."

"I'm not five," Leo deadpanned, rolling his eyes, "and I have to go, I have to finish scanning a bunch of internship documents if I want to make it in time for tonight."

He wasn't actually in any rush, he had used the copy machine earlier, but anything to get out from under Vince and Luke's worried gazes.

Once he was out of the cafeteria the slight queasiness he was feeling faded into the background and although he still felt exhausted and achy, at least he didn't have to keep any conversation going.

His plan worked out fine until it was 5 PM and Jonah was right outside his classroom door.

Normally just seeing him there would make Leo giddy. Jonah was a fucking sight to behold, especially when he wasn't paying attention, just leaning against the hallway right outside the lecture room, propped against the wall as he scrolled down his phone, wearing a black bomber jacket over the light button up he wore everyday. He had even shaved the side of his hair, in the fashion Leo liked, which suited him much better than the fluffy fro.

Today was not a normal day, though, so Leo almost groaned as he realized his boyfriend was out there and there was no chance now that he could go back to his own dorm, take his sleeping pills and crash until the game.

"Hi," Jonah smiled as Leo walked out of the classroom, the last student out. He pocketed his phone, "how was the day?"

Leo shrugged, "it sure was a day."

Jon's eyebrows shot up, "that good?" he leaned in, grabbing the neckline of Leo's sand colored sweater, "can I cheer you up?" Jonah smiled, bumping his nose over his, minty breath in his mouth.

Leo recoiled as the smell of gum made his stomach roll, "no- I mean, yeah, you can, just... Let's ease up on the PDA."

That was so widely out of character for him that Jonah simply gaped.

"Uh... Are you feeling okay?"

"Why is everyone asking me this today?" Leo grabbed Jon's hand, forcing him to walk down the hallway, "I'm fine, I'm just in a bad mood."

"Because of the game."

"Because of the game," Leo agreed, nodding, "I just... Don't take this the wrong way, I'm ready for college to be over, just..."

"I got you," Jonah squeezed his hand back, then leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek, "but I promise you it'll be a good change, not a bad one."

Leo sighed, leaning onto his touch. At least Jonah felt warm, a good change from the permanent chill that he had felt all day, "can we go home?"

Jonah shrugged, "the guys are all gonna be together before the game, are you sure you don't wanna go?"

He didn't want to miss out on that, since it'd be the last time ever, but... But he also just felt like he wanted to sleep and never wake up again, which normally shaped up to not having a good time.

"No, I wanna go home. I wanna sleep."

Jon frowned, but said nothing, intertwining their fingers.

Jonah wasn't like the others, he wasn't the chatty type and normally they could sit in silence for hours, but today he apparently had decided he really wanted to talk. For some fucking reason.

Leo stared at him, unimpressed, as Jonah rattled on and on about the hospital and the fact one of the interns had passed out seeing blood and Wendy this, Wendy that-

"Can you stop?"

"The car?" Jonah's eyebrows shot up, "why? Are you carsick-"

"No, stop talking," Leo grumbled, then regretted it, "I just have a headache, that's all..." he really didn't.

"Oh... Yeah, of course," Jonah nodded, sounding very confused.

Now that Jon had brought up being carsick, suddenly all that Leo could focus on was his stomach. The measly sandwich that he had forced himself to eat was just sitting there, heavy as a rock. Not digesting at all.

He placed a hand over his stomach, rubbing in small circles over his sweater. Thankfully they were already close to the apartment building, so the car came to a stop quickly.

Once again, the nausea faded, but this time it didn't vanish, just sat uncomfortably in his gut, annoying as hell.

"Leo?" Jonah called once he didn't get out after the car was parked. He circled the car and opened the door, "baby... Talk with me, what's wrong? This isn't you..."

"I don't know," Leo sighed, leaning in and planting his forehead to his shoulder, "I don't know, I don't feel well, my head-" he let out a little noise as Jonah combed his fingers through his hair. Leo didn't mean a headache, but he welcomed the soothing touch just the same, "I just wanna go to bed."

"Okay..." Jonah whispered, leaning in to plant a kiss on his temple, only to frown as he pulled back, "you're a little warm, baby."

"Jon," Leo groaned, "please, I just wanna go to bed."

He could tell that Jon wanted to argue, but for the moment, that could wait. They didn't talk as they went up to the apartment and Leo stripped by the door, paying Jonah no attention as he stomped to the bedroom and faceplanted the pillow.

"I got you some Tylenol," Jonah whispered, entering the room and sitting gingerly at the edge of the bed, "Leo."

"No," Leo shook his head, "no, I don't want that..."

"Well, I don't really care," Jonah ushered him to sit up, "take the meds."

Glaring at him, Leo took the pill dry, then promptly fell back down, "just let me sleep."

"You're welcome," Jonah said sardonically, then ran his fingers through Leo's hair, absentmindedly.

Next time Leo opened his eyes, he immediately knew something was wrong with him. His head felt like it was weighting a ton and he could barely sit up on the bed. Jonah wasn't in the room.

Leo all but crawled to the bathroom, splashing his face with water. He looked horrible, his face was all blotchy, pale in certain places and red where it had been pressed to the pillow, his eyes looked sunken in.

"Great," he mumbled, water dripping form his hair and causing him to shiver. To add insult to the injury, the tylenol he had had previously was sitting in his stomach just like the sandwich: like a fucking brick.

He pressed on his belly, forcing up a sick belch that tasted like acid, but nothing else happened. Leo groaned, his stomach felt disgusting, churning in rhythm with the pounding of his head.

Sure that nothing was going to come up, he walked out of the room. Jonah was sitting by the dining table, a bunch of papers spread around him.

"Hey..." Leo said tiredly, entering the kitchen area and filling up a glass of water, "what time is it?"

"a quarter to eight," Jonah looked up, "how are you feeling?"

"Great," Leo smiled. If he was honest he felt worse than before, but at least the overwhelming urge to walk into open traffic had gone to the backburner, as his body was much more interested now in the pounding of his head and the nausea bubbling in his belly. He'd take feeling sick any day over feeling depressed.

"You know, I don't believe you," Jonah rolled his eyes, jumping up and circling the table, "don't go anywhere, I need to get the thermometer."

"Jonah, I'm fine," Leo rolled his eyes, then squeezed the table under his hand, as the world took a minute too long to stop spinning, "you should've woken me up, now we're on a rush."

"I don't think you should play, you're looking... Awful, to say the least."

"Thank, Jonah, you always know how to charm me."

"I'm serious, Leo. You know better than to play with a fever."

"I don't have a fever anymore," Leo ignored him, walking back to the door so he could put the shoes he had previously ditched, "let's go."

Jonah glared at him, "you're so fucking stubborn."

"It's my last game ever, stop being a dick and let's go," Leo urged him, walking out without looking back.

It was clear Jonah did not agree with his decision, hence why Leo was driving and why his boyfriend had his arms crossed to his chest and looked ready to bite his head off.

"This is a very dumb idea. You're gonna crack your stupid head open. Again."

"Last time I did that we ended up dating," Leo shrugged, fighting to ignore the uneasy feeling that was spreading all over him. His mouth tasted weird, "maybe I'll land an even hotter doctor this time around."

"You're such a dick," Jonah snorted, but there was a ghost of a smile in his lips. He turned his head so Leo wouldn't see it.

The blonde smiled back, then gulped down nervously as his stomach clenched. His head felt woozy.

"Your parking skills are fucking atrocious," Jonah commented as they jumped out of the car and Leo rushed ahead of him to the locker rooms.

"You get so grumpy when things don't go your way," Leo rolled his eyes, entering the locker room and Jonah followed him in, as if he was still allowed there.

"There you are!" Vince shouted from across the room, "we thought you had died, I've been blowing up your phone."

"And you brought the deserter," Michael scoffed and Leo ignored the guy, moving to his locker in order to grab his clothes. Behind him, he could vaguely tell that Jonah was mouthing off Mikey.

"You," Lucas marched to him, "are not playing."

"What?" Leo scoffed, ignoring his captain and slipping on his jersey, "of course I am. You can't play without a cornerback."

"I'm aware. Alex is gonna replace you," he explained and Leo felt twice as nauseous as before. He gulped down, using the fact that his head was still inside the jersey to conceal it. Then he glared at Lucas.

"You can't bench me. I'm better than Alex and you know it, Luke."

"I... I'm not benching you, Leo. You're sick, I can tell you're running a fever from here and Jonah is hovering over you like a worried mom. You're super pale. I can't let you in the field."

"It's my last game," Leo forced his voice not to waver. Rationally he knew Lucas had a point... But it was his last game. He didn't want this memory to be him sitting in the bench, watching his friends enjoy themselves, outside of it all already. His head throbbed, "you can't bench me in my last game, Luke, please..."

Begging was weird, it made him feel off in a whole different manner. Six years before type of odd, begging-

"Leo?" Lucas frowned, his hands coming to cup the blonde's nape, "dude, are you alright-"

"Please don't bench me, please, I- I'll be better, I'll do better-" his stomach rolled and Leo's mouth filled up with bitter saliva. He swallowed in, almost gagging, "please-"

"Okay, okay..." Lucas looked panicked, then a new set of hands were on Leo. Jonah's delicate hands, coming to cup his cheeks, fingers dancing down to his neck.

"Leo, baby, take a deep breath."

"Luke's- Luke's gonna bench me, he's gonna replace me... Alex- He's going to replace me..." he said, heart in his throat, blood pumping in his ear. Lucas' shook his head.

"Leo, that's not what I meant! Leo, I- You just don't look well-"

"Lucas, shut up," Jonah snapped, without glancing back, "Leo, look at me? Hey, look at me."

With a lot of struggle Leo forced his eyes away from Lucas - who was replacing him with Alex, during his last game ever, who had made him beg just to be included-

"Leo!" Jonah shook him lightly, "look at me, baby."

He was looking at him, feeling his heart thumping in his ears, nauseous and shaky. His stomach sloshed uncomfortably with the anxiety running through him, rocketed up to his throat to stinge it with acid, but then settled back down, like a rough sea.

"Breathe, Leo."

He obeyed, or tried to, breathing in through his nose, then out through his mouth. In again... He wanted to throw up. Not even out of nausea, he just felt like he'd feel better if he did.

"Out, darling, you need to breathe out."

Slowly, very slowly, Leo felt like he was back in the locker room. Covered in cold sweat, shivering like crazy.

"Sorry..." he mumbled, feeling woozy and planting a hand inside the metal locker to support himself. Jonah looked concerned and Lucas looked frantic.

"I'm not benching you..." Luke said in the smallest of voices, "I'm- I'm sorry..."

"So I can play?" Leo asked, but he knew it was bad idea. He just couldn't bring himself to stop moving now, it was a snowball of bad decisions.

Lucas made a face, clearly he didn't want to agree, but then nodded.

Jonah frowned, "Leo..."

"I need this," he forced himself not to include the please at the end.

He was sure they were going to lose the minute they stepped on the field. Or better yet, he was going to lose it.

The lights were too bright and it was a really cold night, shivers running down his back, the wind clinging to the exposed part of his neck.

In the bleachers, Jonah was standing right next to Wendy, arms crossed to his chest, both dark heads together as they talked. Wendy looking at Leo worriedly, leaning in to whisper something to Jon.

"Leo!" Lucas snapped at him, in full captain voice, no longer his best friend.

Leo realized he had blanked a good full minute of the game, only to realize he had just allowed the wide-receiver of the opposite team to grab the ball. Well fuck.

He tackled the guy, attempting to minimize damage or stop the pass, but the wide-receiver was huge, Vince sized at least and next thing he knew he was receiving a sharp throw on his chest as the man quickly burled past him, throwing the ball to the next player of his team.

Leo didn't even feel the jab, he was already backpedaling to face the wide-receiver again, adamant he wouldn't do the same mistake twice.

By the time they reached the halftime break, he wasn't sure which way was up. The whole game felt fuzzy and Leo was aware he should be more in pain, considering the amount of times he had body tackled the wide receiver, but he couldn't really focus on anything.

"Wagner!" Coach Eric yelled after them as they slipped into the locker room, just as the cheerleaders took over the field. Leo stumbled forward bracing a hand on Spencer's back and the man jerked a little at the touch, before relaxing as he realized the heavy touch was just Leo.

"Wagner! Get out of my way Monacelli- Wagner!"

Leo stopped, bracing against a tiled wall, wheezing. Everything felt weird as hell, he felt like he was in a rollercoaster, as the world twirled around him, in and out of focus.

"What the fuck was that!? You were out of yourself, you got warned and if you don't behave you're getting disqua-"

Leo interrupted him by removing his helmet and promptly bending in half, throwing up his measly lunch all over the coach's shoes.

There was a general groan of discontent, some gasps, the coach himself shouting-

Leo stayed bent in half, hands on his thighs, his belly churning. He gagged again, spitting into the mess. He wasn't even nauseous, not really... Just really really weird and -

"I got you," Lucas grabbed his arm and stopped Leo from tipping to the side and collapsing, "I got you, c'mon, let's wash your face."

"I don't... I don't feel well..." Leo groaned and Lucas scoffed, dabbing his chin with a wet paper towel. He wasn't wearing the helmet anymore either and his dark brown hair was glued down with sweat, green eyes sparkling with worry.

"I can't tell if you have a fever, I'm too hot," Lucas said, but rested his warm hand on Leo's forehead anyway, their skin damp and clingy, "but I think you do."

"Okay..." Leo leaned onto his touch, wanting to collapse in a bed. He was starting to feel completely detached from his body, which was never a good thing, "where's Jon?"

"Vince went to get him," Lucas grabbed his arm, "let's move here..."

He led Leo to the opposite side of the locker room, sitting him down on the wooden bench.

"Water!" Lucas shouted and Leo almost laughed hysterically as he watched half the team scramble to meet the demand.

"You're such a spoiled-" he cringed as another wave of nausea hit him, "spoiled brat."

"My counselor calls it leadership," Lucas scoffed, crouching before him and patting his elbow, "arms up, you're cooking inside the uniform."

"Bossy as fuck," Leo groaned, but obeyed and allowed Luke to strip him, including from his protective undershirt. He shuddered with the sudden cold, but immediately felt a lot more alert, "Luke."

"Yeah?" Lucas was hardly listening, raising his hand to catch the water bottle Mikey threw him from across the room, "little sips."

"Luke," Leo grabbed the bottle, but didn't drink, "you have to get back on the field. Break's almost over."

"I don't-"

"It's fine. I'm okay, I'll just wait for Jon," Leo smiled, "go captain."

Lucas looked like he was choosing between which family member to shoot, much to Leo's amusement, "I'm fine, it's just a bug. I'll live. Go."

"I don't think-"

"ATWOOD!" Coach Eric yelled from across the room, "GET BACK IN THERE!"

"Go," Leo smiled, "go" and then, much to his relief and Lucas' too, Jonah entered the locker's room, alongside Vince.

Vin sped past them, offering Leo a concerned smile, but already slipping on his helmet. Jonah lingered behind, waiting until the last player was out before sighing loudly.

"Just say it already," Leo grumbled, staring at a spot between his feet and grimacing as his belly continued to roll. He waited for the inevitable I-told-you-so.

"How are you feeling, baby?"

Leo looked up, surprised and Jonah rolled his eyes at his shocked face, "I'm not going to scold you when you feel like crap and look worse."

He let out a chuckle, lowering his head back down, "thank you, Jon..." his stomach gurgled again, interrupting the good mood and making his mouth taste even more bitter, "pass me the bin?"

Jonah said something, moving the large trashcan of the locker room's closer and Leo turned his face away from it, briefly glancing at his boyfriend, "get out of here, Jon," he mumbled, his voice thick. He leaned over the garbage bin, spitting the awful taste.

"I'm not going anywhere," Jonah scoffed, sitting on the bench too and carefully planting a hand on Leo's forehead, aiding with the aim and support.

Leo groaned, bracing against the large bin. His stomach hurt, all the nausea he had been avoiding all day crashing onto him at once. He gagged, once, and then leaned forward, all but diving into the bin as everything he had ever eaten rushed out of his mouth.

He attempted to breathe, but his throat was burning and his nose too, it felt like he was drowning. There was a thump on his back, forcing up another burp and even more bitter liquid and Leo gasped for air, both hands white knuckling the trash.

"Fuck, Leo..." Jonah mumbled behind him, rubbing his back. He was applying pressure enough to dislodge another burp and Leo gagged as even more vomit splashed out of his mouth, now without him even having to heave.

He panted, feeling dizzy and empty, his stomach still churning uneasily, "I think..." a burp forced another gush of bile and he spat, clearing his throat forcefully to get rid of the sick taste, "I think I'm done."

"Uhm," was all that Jonah said, handing him a bunch of paper towels that Leo had no idea from where he had manifested them. The blonde's hand was shaking as he took them, cleaning the puke that had ran down his chin and blowing his nose.

Jonah squeezed his shoulder, "done?"

"Think... Think so," Leo nodded, throwing the paper towels in the large trash and pushing it away from him. He turned to look at Jon, just in time for his boyfriend to bolt up and brace against the sinks, gagging harshly.

Leo groaned, "Jon..."

"I'm fine," Jonah mumbled, before another heave wrecked through him, sending up a small stream of pink colored puke. He gagged again, closing his eyes and breathing through it, "I'm fine."

"Yeah, you look great," Leo sighed. He wanted to get up and help him, but his head was swimming and he didn't want to make Jonah's life even harder by crumpling to a pile on the ground, "I'm sor-"

"Not your fault," Jonah washed the basin and his mouth, splashing cold water on his face and then turning to look at him, "see? I lived."

It caused Leo to snort, in an amused way. Jonah's dark rich skin was a sickly shade of grey, but at least he retained the good humor. Whenever Jon was actually feeling sick, Leo had learned by now, his temper flared up.

"Yeah, you lived," he nodded, pressing a hand to his forehead, elbow to his knee as he folded in half, "I fucked up the game, should've let Alex-"

"Alex can choke for all I care, it was your night," Jonah scoffed, walking back to the bench and rubbing his back, "and you got to go out in style, hurling all over coach Eric's shoes."

Leo huffed, smiling, "I guess... I'm going to miss college, Jon."

The man opened a sympathetic smile and moved his hand up, squeezing his nape, "I know, baby-"

"No, you don't," Leo straightened up, voice strong, "I don't think... I know I wasn't happy until I came to college. Until I met you and joined the team and everything else... I'm terrified of this being over."

Jonah frowned, forcing their eyes to meet, "it's not over, Leo. I promise you, I'm not- I'm not just saying this so you'll calm down. I do get what you mean, I love my life now. I love my life with you, baby."

Leo let out a little sob, tearing up and then he slumped forward, melting against Jonah's chest. He felt a kiss pressed on the top of his head, Jon squeezing him tightly.

"There are greater and better things waiting for you, Leo," he promised, "and you're never gonna be alone like before."

#stomach flu #sickfic #emeto #emetophilia #mywriting #leo wagner #jonah banks #sympathy sickness

[thedo0zyslider]

I Love You (I'm Not Supposed Too) - Chapter Five: Swampy Vacation - 7k Words

Fwhip embarks on a journey to the Codlands, courtesy of Grimlands Count. Safe to say he is less than pleased with the idea

A03 Link

Several weeks later, after dozens and dozens of tense days in the house, Fwhip finds himself being shipped off to the Codlands for two weeks. His father says it was a planned trip, so he could learn about their culture and what not. The ginger doesn't quite believe that.

Fwhip is pretty sure it’s because of the fight he and his sister had. And because Gem was scheduled to visit the day after he left too, which is pretty convenient timing if you ask him. He's almost grateful that their parents seem to be keeping them separate, because he's still feeling miserable about the whole thing. And he doesn't want that to lead into another fight again, then he really wouldn't know what to do with himself. 

He knows his fight with Gem isn’t over that one bad day. It’s god knows how many years worth of problems all exploding at once, because they suck at emotional stuff. And they're family is a big old mess too. One so full of issues that it makes him wanna bang his head into a wall half the damn time. 

He hasn’t seen Gem since she left for the Cliffs, right after their fight, which was over half a month ago at this point. Fwhip hasn’t messaged her on the new communicators they were gifted with either. Just another thing on the problem pile now, he supposed. Even if he didn't want it to be. The ginger isn’t really upset that his sister hasn’t spoken to him though, for he’s still pretty upset at her. She had called his one and only joy in this life dumb and stupid after all.

Fwhip is upset at himself too. The future Count knows he was being an asshole with most, if not all. of his comments, even if some were the truth. Yet at the same time he had no idea what to do, or how to talk to Gem about it. How do you even recover from a fight like that, really? They’d both called each other's greatest passions stupid .

He thinks about all of this, and arrives at the Codlands a lot grumpier than he expected to be. Part of the young Count wants to go back home, but he knows Gem is probably there. And the rest of him doesn’t want to confront that whole ordeal just yet, so maybe being in the dumb smelly swamp empire for a week or so would be bearable; if his other option was that much worse. Maybe .

Jimmy greets him as soon as he, and the guards his father had annoyingly sent, arrive. There is a fake smile plastered across his face, and when everyone turns their back he gives Fwhip the naistest glare the cod could probably muster. The half dragon returns it with a glare of his own, and feels his tail angrily thump against the ground. Well then, this is going to be a splendid trip, since the Cod Emperor’s greeting was oh-so friendly . 

Fwhip and his guards are giving a small tour, the teeangers keeping a good distance between them and the rest of the group. The tour was uncomfortable for both of them it seemed, as Jimmy awkwardly pointed out and described most of the buildings in the empire; even with the Grimlands guards giving him death glares the whole time. Fwhip tried to pay attention, since he would be living there for the next few days or so, but found it was rather hard too. The people they passed were giving the half dragon some nasty stares, stares he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tired. He drew his wings even closer to his body as they walked, shifting uncomfortably with nearly every step. The cod beside him waved to someone else, then raised an eyebrow at the half dragon’s suffering. The dickhead. 

“Not used to getting stared at like an animal, are you?” Jimmy mutters to him, having leaned in a bit to do so. They are much too close for the young Count’s liking right now, able to feel the blonde’s breath falling on his skin..

“No.” Fwhip mutters back, shifting just an inch in the other direction. Personal space and all, especially when he was being ogled like he was some creature . “I’m not.”

“Now you know what my life feels like.” Jimmy responded, waving to someone he knew as they continued to make their way through the small town. 

Fwhip avoided everyone's gazes still, and tried to fold his wings closer to his back. “Do you deal with this everyday?” He asked, not missing how the few cod he did catch a glimpse of looked at him. It was…..a look he wasn't used to, that's for certain. 

“Yeah.” The cod answered after a moment, his response strained. Again, Fwhip had to wonder once again what went on in that damn ocean. “For a lot of reasons, yeah.”

The ginger doesn't respond, just holds back a sigh, and accepts the fact that he will be subjected to some….rather nasty looks. But if complains to Jimmy the cod will complain about his treatment in the Grimlands, so he just keeps his mouth shut and suffers in silence. Sometimes doing that is better anyways.

Fwhip follows Jimmy around in mostly silence, only giving the occasional word here and there. Partly because a good bit of the codfolk's conversations are in codlish, a language he cannot even try to understand right now. But he learns a little from what he can gather, about the people's religion, the sea gods they worship and their cultural festivities related to it. 

He learns about recipes and their foods he will never remember fully, the style of dress in the empire, how they farm and use the land's natural resources for most things, everything . He also learns a lot of little details too, like how Jimmy will have to wear this head once they appoint him as the Codfather, and how he won’t be able to take it off in public ever again after that. Jimmy mumbled something part way through, about how his mother had instructed him to be so detailed in the tour, because normally he wouldn't care so much. And well, he's doing a damn good job at it, out of fear or otherwise. He makes it a little interesting, at least. 

Their little tour is eventually interrupted by some commotion in the docks, and the two young royals have to rush off once they hear the sounds of yelling. Thankfully no one got truly hurt, other than a few bruises maybe, but one if the castle merfolk and two codfolk had gotten into a pretty heated engagement. Apparently one of them had said some nasty comment about the other species, and it had escalated from there. 

Jimmy tells him it's the fourth incident like that today, and noon has only just passed. 

Not even twenty minutes later, they have to stop an argument between one of the Grimlands guards accompanying Fwhip, and another codfolk Jimmy had been talking to prior. It was his guard who had started it, and while the future Count didn't necessarily disagree with their comments, it would not be good for any of them if a fight broke out. So he decides they're done with guards, actually, and pulls the one with him off to the side. 

“Sir,” The guard protested, surely unhappy about losing their post. “I can't just leave you here alone in an enemy empire!”

“First off, we're not technically enemies right now.” Fwhip hisses, shoving them off to wherever the other two or so Grimlands guards had been ordered to stay. “And do you think these people are gonna attack an emperor's kid? They're not that dumb.” 

The guard mutters something under their breath in response, something about him sympathizing with the fish folk, and reluctantly walks away. They know when to walk away and follow orders, but not when to shut their mouth, it seems. The half dragon glares at the back of the retreating guard, and has to stop himself from stomping back like a child might. To say the comment got under his skin would be an understatement. 

Fwhip exchanges a glance with Jimmy when he walks back over, and sees the same troubling look reflected on the young cod’s face. It seems the two of them are on the same page then, about why they are here and what they are being taught. 

They are both starting to understand the need for the marriage. Fwhip still doesn't like it, he never will, but he can at least understand why it's happening. And that is exactly why they were brought here, to see and understand their duties to the people. The duties they both do not want, yet have no say in. The duties their parents do not want to do, so now it's both of their jobs.

There's a sinking pit of despair opening up in Fwhip's gut as he realizes it, and sees the same feeling reflected in Jimmy’s eyes as well. And the feeling is persistent, it won't go away. It's the feeling that will define every thought of the future after today. 

“Pix!” Jimmy exclaims, sounding all happy and relieved. He nearly runs over towards the other, his tail basically wagging with happiness behind him as he moves. Like a puppies tail would. 

“Pix?” Fwhip parrots, confused, yet he follows the young cod regardless. Don't get him wrong, he's very happy to see the new Pixandrian King, it's been a while since their last meeting, he's just unsure of why exactly he's here. 

“Hello you two!” The Copper King says, reaching out to ruffle both of the boy's hair when they're in range. Jimmy laughs, and lets him, already well used to such affection from the man in the few times they have spoken. Fwhip lets his hair be ruined as well, but not without many confused noises. 

“I'm happy to see you but, why are you here!?” He asks, barely caring how messy his curls are now. Even if his hair was rather annoying to keep tidy. Again, he's very excited to see his friend, he just doesn't know why he is seeing him!

“He visits sometimes!” Jimmy explains, cheery. And then he leaned in closer to Fwhip, to add on quietly. Like no one was supposed to hear this, in case something bad came of it. Like Jimmy was treading some ground he wasn't supposed to around the cod and all the royal advisors hanging about. “And mum isn't giving me any help making an empire, so Pix made it his job instead.”

“Oh, okay.” The ginger mumbled, somewhat surprised at the information. He knew the Ocean Queen wasn't....a great parent, but he hadn't been expecting her to just throw her son info leadership like that. Jimmy, on the other hand, seemed unphased by it, like this stuff was normal, and happily turned his head back towards their older friend. 

“The Queen actually requested my presence, and said she wanted me to be here today specifically.” Pix said, also seeming very nonchalant about the whole neglectful parent thing. Fwhip wondered how out of the loop he was, and if Lizzie was either involved or okay with all this. Or if she even knew it was happening. 

Jimmy looked puzzled, like his mother didn't request Pix's presence a lot. Like he just showed up of his own accord, out of the kindness of his own heart. “Why?”

“I don't know.” Pix shrugged, a small smile forming on his lips. “Maybe she thinks I'll keep you both in line?” Both of the boys giggled at that suggestion, and exchanged a knowing glance. No one in the world could stop them arguing, or being individual little troublemakers. You'd either have to separate them or lock them each in an all white room to achieve such a feat. 

Not even two minutes later, like they had summoned the Devil herself, the Ocean Queen arrives. She has guards of her own trailing her as she approaches them. Fwhip is surprised when he sees her, but his two companions are not. Jimmy seems to be trying to control his facial expression, probably from scowling or something; while Pixl plasters one of those fake, polite little smiles across his lips.

“Hello, your majesty.” Pix says, with a polite dip of his head. He sounds a lot less friendly than he did on him and the Queens last meeting a few months ago, that's for sure. The Copper King has undoubtedly learned some information recently, information about what really goes on behind closed doors in the Ocean Empire. It's nothing good, either. 

“Pixlriffs, good to see you.” The Queen says, stiff as ever. In the few times Fwhip has met her, he doesn't think she's ever been relaxed. Or casual. Or just generally not nerve wracking to be around. “How has everything been going?”

“It's been going well. Your son has quite the knack for this stuff, you know.” Pix hums, casting a fond glance over his shoulder at Jimmy. The young cod does not beam up at him like one would expect him to, his face being neutral and controlled instead. Like he would be punished if he didn't. That uneasy feeling Fwhio has about the Ocean Queen is growing every second, honestly. 

The Queen flicks her gaze towards her soon for a moment, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Jimmy’s expression doesn’t shift and inch.  “Does he now…”

“Yes, especially once you let him learn what he needs to.” Pix's tone appears casual on the surface, but there is an undertone of accusation. Of weeks old frustration and annoyance with his fellow royal. It looks like the Ocean Queen is doing everything in her power to be civil right now. 

The Queens hums, her tail flicking behind her, probably not as discreet as she would like it to be. “Well. I was just here for a report and a look around. I think I'll be going now, if that's okay with you.” She hasn't even gotten the report yet, and she already wants to leave. Fwhip has to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the statement, and instead forces himself to look wholly disinterested in the whole conversation. Just as people would expect him to be, after all. 

“That's perfectly fine with me, ma'am. I'm sure you're very busy indeed.” Pix responds, placing a calm hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. The cod doesn't seem to notice it, everything he does is still controlled and precise as ever. But his posture does seem to relax, just the tiniest bit. 

“Yes, busy.” The Queen responds, almost distantly. Like her mind is very far elsewhere at the moment; perhaps it is back at her Castle, where she clearly would rather be instead. “I need a word with my…child very quickly, if I may.” She adds, her eyes still trained on her son. Almost like some kind of predator. 

“Of course!” Pix's smile seems a bit more forced after that, and he slowly removes his hand off Jimmy’s shoulder. For a brief second, the young cod looks a little terrified, but he doesn't say anything at all. He just lets his mother whisk him off to the side, a few feet away, while their guests wait behind them. 

Fwhip wants to ask something, anything about what's happening, but he doesn't. Pix is…oddly stiff as they watch the two Merfolks exchange, and whatever question Fwhip has dies in his mouth. He knows not to pry when his friend gets like this, because the answer he will get will only be stony silence. The King watches the ordeal through narrowed eyes, observing Jimmy and his mothers body language as they talk. The whole ordeal seems to be a rather tense one, and Fwhip can't help but eavesdrop. Just a little bit. Though he doesn't hear much, and can only catch the last few snippets of the conversation.

The Queen crouches down next to her son, so that they are eye level. Her hands are firmly placed on his shoulders, so he cannot move or pull away. It looks like her nails are digging in, and Fwhip really hopes that's not the case. Her lips move as she whispers something, voice rising slightly with every new word. Until Fwhip doesn't even have to try too hard to overhear it anymore. And if he can hear it, so can King Pix besides him. Whatever the consequences of that are. 

“You do what you've been told, K-,” The Queen hisses, and Fwhip chooses to stop listening right about that point in the discussion. He feels like one of those words isn't for him to hear, now or ever. Like Jimmy doesn't want him to hear it. “Remember that.” 

“Yes ma'am.” Jimmy says, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor. His mother glares at him for a moment more, as if assessing him. She huffs, then loosens her grip enough for Jimmy to wiggle free. He doesn't try, and doesn’t move until he is let go fully. Jimmy only moves when she starts to walk back towards them, and follows behind the Queen more obedient than he had the first time. Whatever bad feeling Fwhip had about the ruler was now confirmed, and was taking form in a rather strong dislike. He could see why everyone else detested the woman so much, and why his mother always complained about having to deal with her. (Which was funny, considering how similar they seemed to be. But that was a train of thought for another day.) 

The Queen and Pix have a small word, and then she is off again. Fwhip pays that exchange no mind. Instead, the half dragon focuses on Jimmy; who is now just standing next to him. He seems a little zoned out, and won't respond to the small nudges Fwhip gives him. He doesn't fully relax either, not until his mother is out of sight, even though her attention had never returned to him once it left the first time. 

“You okay, Jimmy?” Fwhip mumbled, seeing the breath he let out at her departure. He doesn't really know why he did it, but the half dragon slipped a hand into the cods. It's something he does when Gem gets a little rattled, and does it without thinking. Maybe that's why he did it, because Jimmy seemed all rattled from whatever his mom had called him. Maybe it was just a habit just a habit at that point, he didn't know.

“Yeah, yeah I'm fine.” The blonde answered, not making any comment in the hand holding. But he did briefly lace their fingers together, and squeezed the other's hand just a little bit. “Can you two go get something? From all the storage areas? They need to fix up some parts of the church after last week's rain…” He mumbled, now talking to Pix as well. Fwhip ignored how the ruler was looking at their hands with a small smile on his face. 

“Sure thing.” The Pixandrian says, nudging the half dragon lightly. He lets go of Jimmy’s hand more reluctantly than he thought he would. “C'mon Fwhip.” The half dragon follows, sparing only half a glance over his shoulder as they walk away. He figures Jimmy just needs a moment to regroup himself after his mother’s visit, and nothing more. He’ll probably go and help them with the Church later, if it doesn’t get too late.

He and Pix head towards said church, and ask around about what materials are needed for the repairs. Once they have a small list of that, the two royals start off to the empire’s storage area, Fwhip prepared to rummage around a probably very disorganized mess. Since storage areas tended to be just that. But it’s there that the day went further downhill, as someone had questions that they needed answers to, and subsequently started to question his young friend about it. Answers the future Count would never be able to ever give.

“Fwhip.” Pix hums out his young friend’s name after a few minutes of quiet work, scanning over the list of materials they had been given for the third time. He doesn't look up from the paper as he speaks, scanning over it still. 

“Yeah?” The ginger asks, turning to look at the older man. The Pixandrian’s tone is….more suspicious than it normally is. Or ever is. Fwhip doesn't exactly know where this is going, but he does know that he doesn't like it. 

“Are you really…interested in Jimmy?” The brunette says, the words sounding oh so innocent when they spill from his lips. To Fwhip they are one of the worst things a man could say to him.

The young Count feels his hand stiffen over whatever he's holding at the question, and what also feels like all his blood turning to ice and dread pools in his stomach. Still he tries to stay calm and controlled when he speaks. Like the question never bothered him. “What do you mean?”

Pix hums again before he speaks, humming one of the tunes he likes to hum when working. “Well there's been rumors about you two being a couple. That's something you don't see everyday, two young royals pairing up…of their own accord.” The Pixandrian says, his tone only holding curiosity. And some mild suspicion buried deep down, to anyone whose head isn't clogged with fear. To Fwhip this is the scariest conversation he will ever, ever have with this man. “I knew you two didn't particularly get along before, so I've just been intrigued about what I've been hearing.”

“Well, you've been around us all day,” Fwhip shrugs, trying to act nonchalant the best he can. He doesn't think it's working very well. “What do you think?” 

“I think you're acting like they are true, in a way.” The Copper King says, and finally turns his head to look at the young half dragon. His gaze is not met like he perhaps expected to be.

“Why'd you even ask in the first place? It isn't really your business.” He huffs, having turned back to the materials he was sorting through a while ago. Fwhip decides to ignore the piercing blue eyes burning holes into his backside for the next few minutes. 

“I know it's not, trust me.” Pix reassures, finally finding some of the materials they need. Fwhip is so off-put by this whole conversation, he knew looking for whatever he previously had been would soon be pointless. He already wanted to leave the storage buildings as soon as possible anyways. “Jimmy just informed me about the deal between your two kingdoms, and I wondered if it came with any strings attached. He didn't seem to be happy about it when he told me.”

“And then I was here today?” Fwhip asked, hand tensely resting over some type of wooden plank that was probably on the list. Probably.

Pix hummed in quiet confirmation. “And then you were here today.”

Fwhip let out a small sigh, and decided he could tell a half truth. It wouldn't hurt to spill some of the basic stuff, not as long as he was vague about it.“My parents thought that us spending time together would be a good idea after the deal, since we used to argue a lot.”

“Did it turn into something more?” Pix asked, genuinely curious. Because he truly cared about them. Both of them. It's what made walking on eggshells around the subject so hard, lying to the people who wanted nothing more than to help. (Some of the very few people who could actually help them too, no less.) 

The ginger blushed at that, and averted his gaze to the side. Goddammit why was he blushing. He shouldn't be blushing over a stupid fishboy that he hated. “Maybe.”

He felt Pix’s warm smile on his back, and relaxed slightly under it. His smile always had that effect, even in the hard moments like this. “Well if it did, I'm happy for you two.”

“And how do you know it didn't?” Fwhip asked, even though he barely dared to do so. Even if the possible answer scared the life out of him. 

“I know when you're lying to me, young Fwhip. You're not very good at it.” Pix repsonded, which, yeah, he was right about all that. Fwhip wasn't the best liar in the world, and the Pixandrian had known him for far too long. Pix had seen more of his horrible lies than anyone else had, other than maybe his sister. “But I also know when to keep my mouth shut.”

“Could you….tell me about cod history sometime?” Fwhip mutters, a little embarrassed that he has to ask such a thing. Especially to Pix, who doesn’t even live anywhere near the ocean. He is just making the correct assumption about how well read the man is about everything.

“Why not ask Jimmy, or Lizzie?” Pix inquires, handing him some supplies to carry back. So it looks like he did more than he actually did, and wasn’t just the Grimlands dead weight. Probably. At last that’s why Fwhip thought he did so, if he just didn’t need help. Ya know, the far more likely reason out of those two.

“Jimmy doesn’t like talking about it, I think. Plus he seems lost on how everything works still. And Lizzie doesn’t get to see me much.” Fwhip explains with a shrug, taking the items he's handed. It's quite a heavy load of stuff, that's for sure, and he has to wonder how bad the damages to the church truly were. 

“Yes, I will. One day.” Pix agrees, starting out of the storage area and back towards the damaged building. Fwhip follows after him, stumbling a little under the weight of his supplies. 

“Thanks.” The half dragon mumbled, taking longer strides so he could keep up with his older friend. Once Pixl noticed this, however, he did slow his pace down. “Do you…do you know where Jimmy is?” He asked after a moment, feeling the redness start to flood his face. This wasn’t helping the earlier assumptions, that’s for sure.

“I think he went back to his shack for the day.” Pix hummed after a thoughtful moment, before giving his younger friend a teasing look. “Why? You miss him already?”

“No.” Fwhip muttered, quiet and embarrassed. He knew the Pixandrian was gonna tease him about his “ crush ” for forever now. Dangit. “And thanks.”

“You're welcome.” Pix said, looking like he wanted to ruffle the half dragon's hair, but couldn't for once. Fwhip appreciated the sentiment regardless, and was sure he'd get another head ruffle as soon as possible. “Now give those back to me, so you can go see your little boyfriend.”

“ B-Boyfriend!? He's not my-” Fwhip stammered out, his wings puffing out behind him on instinct. He was sure his face was as red as his hair by now, the flush having reached the tips of his ears. Pix did nothing but giggle at his own successful quip, and watch as the young royal struggled to regain his former composure. “..Are you sure you can carry all this? I don't have to go…”

Pix shakes his head, and reaches out to take the stuff from the young half dragon. “I'll be fine, Fwhip. I've carried a lot worse in my day.” He hums, and Fwhip slowly starts to hand his share of the materials over. “Besides, I think you have something to talk about.” And well, he is right about that. There is something he wants to tell Jimmy about….

“Right, um.” Fwhip says, all of the materials now out of his hands and into Pix’s. He was still worried about the other carrying all that weight, but knew the other would give him the exact same response again if he protested. “Thank you, again.”

“Anytime, now run along. Jimmy’s shack is just by the docks.” Pix said, managing to nudge him off in that direction. Fwhip huffed, threw yet another thank you over his shoulder as he started his return trip to the docks. It was a little tricky to find his way back, and he had to deal with quite a few nasty stares as he wandered around the swamp. But eventually, the half dragon does spot the shack eventually. And it is indeed a shack, too small to be called a house, and it’s not particularly pretty either, so of course it’s Jimmy’s. Once he sees it, he beelines for the door, and slips inside as soon as he isn’t fumbling with the lock. “Pix just asked about us.” Fwhip said, locking the door behind them as quickly as he can. The half dragon leaned against it too, for extra measure. He distantly hoped no one walked by and heard them, because that would be extra, extra bad. “He asked if I was actually into you.”

Jimmy’s head shot in his direction, eyes wide like a baby deer’s. He was standing halfway across the room when Fwhip entered, doing who knows what, and stopped it as soon as the words processed in his little fish brain. “Did you tell him?” The cod asked, clearly fighting back the fear in his voice. A small tinge of sympathy went through Fwhip for a moment, but then he pushed it right back down again.

“I wanted to, but I didn't.” He said, now moving off the door. The half dragon made sure it was locked before he did so, and moved closer to where Jimmy was standing. Both of their tails flicked across the ground in near sync, anxious and worried.

“Thank cod.” Jimmy mumbled, running a hand over his face in momentary relief. He hugged his arms to his chest again, and a frown settled onto his face. One that wouldn’t really leave for the rest of the day, rather unfortunately for the blonde.

Fwhip gave a small sigh of his own, and a  nonchalant shrug to accompany it as well. To make it seem like he cared a little less than he did or something. Even if the amount he cared was pretty small to begin with. “I figured your mom would have your head if I did. Even if I really, really trust him.”

“So someone’s onto us?” Jimmy asked, hugging his arms tighter to his chest. 

The half dragon let out a huff, and pretended not to notice when he did that. Like he did everytime, even when it was a pretty noticeable quirk of the cod’s. “He even asked if they arranged a marriage.”

“Oh no….” The blonde mutters, and Fwhip feels the same dread that is in Jimmy’s voice. He feels it very deep down in bones at the moment, and knows its the kinda dread that won’t ever go away.

The both of them are….decently terrified of what will happen if the news is broken suddenly, and not slowly overtime like they planned. Fwhip is scared of what the people will say, what all his salmonfolk friends would think. What the people working in his family's manor would say to him and to his father. And that fear is just over the current plan, let alone whatever would happen if the truth was revealed. Jimmy, as he'd admitted before one night, is deathly terrified of his mother's reaction; more so than any merfolk or codfolk's. Especially if the marriage doesn’t go as planned. He says the Ocean Queen does not like it when she doesn't get her way, and Fwhip feels like he has the emotional scars to prove it too. 

There is also a new sense of duty tying them both down after today. Duty to their kingdoms, their people, their parents. Duty to a lot of people. Duty to the world and the peace this arrangement would undoubtedly bring. Duty to the lives and the grief that would be spared by avoiding war. There was….a lot of duty riding on this, and it had taken them years to realize that fact. Now that they had, it had become something of its own heavy burden on both of the boys shoulders’.

“We have to sell it better.” Fwhip said after a moment, shuffling his weight from side to side. He didn’t know what to do, standing in this house talking to Jimmy. But he needed to do something, something with his hands or his body. Something to get all that nervous energy out before it exploded.

“I know,” Jimmy agrees, and looks like he’s about to start pacing. The ginger really hopes he won’t do that, because that would be stupid and pointless and annoying. Like almost every other thing the blonde does, actually. “But how do we do that?”

Fwhip hums, turning the idea over in his head for a bit. Even if he knows there’s only one logical solution to it, a solution he doesn’t want to admit. But he says it anyway, just to get it out there and out of his thoughts. So it won’t linger in the back of his mind like a little pest. “Acting like a couple, maybe…but.”

“We both don't want to.” Jimmy mumbled, sparing a glance at him. There was some emotion in his eyes, and Fwhip didn’t even dare to put a name to it. There were a lot of things he wasn’t daring to do, or didn’t like doing today it seemed. And this was just yet another one.

“Yeah.” The ginger mutters, glancing back at the blonde. He blinks in surprise, finding that they are…..very close. Close enough to touch. The cod says nothing, just blinks back at him all wide eyed.

For a moment, as he and Jimmy just stare at each other, Fwhip lets his mind wander. He wonders what it would be like to kiss him, just a little bit. He wonders what it would feel like, if it would feel like anything at all. His eyes flick downwards, and wonders if Jimmy’s lips are soft, or if they would be rough and horrible to feel against his own. He wonders if they’ll ever share that moment together.

“What are you staring at?” Jimmy says quietly after a minute. Fwhip jumps in surprise, feeling a blush start to spread across his cheeks. The half dragon moves his eyes away from the others lips, and focuses them on somewhere else in the room. He…..didn't know why he was thinking that. He shouldn't be thinking about kissing Jimmy. 

“Nothing.” He muttered, tail flicking slightly in embarrassment. “It's nothing.” If he wasn't mistaken, Jimmy's face was also starting to turn a bit red as well,  and his eyes had started to wander too. Meaning that they had…..maybe been thinking similar things. Just maybe. Maybe he wasn't totally weird for that one then. 

The cod doesn't give a verbal response, cheeks a decent shade of pink. Instead he gestures for Fwhip to sit down somewhere, and the half dragon does so. He practically curls himself into a little ball, taking up residency on one of the couch cushions. The left one by the arm, so he can further sink into the material and be miserable. Because today has been pretty shit, generally, and he just really wants to go home. But unfortunately, a certain someone can't understand social cues, and won't just let him suffer in peace. 

“So, why was your dad so eager to get you out of the house?” Jimmy says, plopping himself down next to Fwhip on the rather small couch. He curls his tail around his legs, making a pointed effort to keep all his limbs in his own personal space as best he can. The sentiment is somewhat appreciated. 

Fwhip looks up, shame already starting to form in the bottom of his gut. “You heard about that?” He mumbled, resisting the urge to hide his face like a child would. He’s not going to do that, especially not around the dumb codboy , because he’s not a child.

“Yep.” Jimmy says, leaning his head against the back of the couch, his gaze now foxed on the brown ceiling that seemed so far above the both of them. “Your dad was so eager he even surprised my mum when they talked. She said he was never that…. happy about getting rid of his kid for a few weeks.” 

“We had…..family issues. To put it lightly.” Fwhip gives a brief explanation, figuring the other can probably guess that much. Handing over information would probably shut him up as well, to be fair. “And now that's an excuse for dumb arrangement shit to go on.” 

“No, I think this visit was always going to happen.” Jimmy shakes his head, and gives the most sensible explanation Fwhip thinks has ever come out of his mouth. Especially about their…. situation . “Letting your child spend a few weeks in your enemy's land is something they wouldn't do, not if there wasn't a political thing behind it.” 

“It makes the peace treaty seem more believable when it gets announced, you know? It makes it seem like we've been genuinely repairing relations for the past few years.” The cod’s eyes stay distant, and trained on the wall as he speaks. Like he’s known the reality of all this the whole time, and it’s been choking him to death. “Even though it's all fake.” 

“When did you get so smart?” Fwhip snorts, considering all that. And yeah, he’s right. Not only does that make sense, it’s also something both their parents would do. The ginger knows that without a doubt, and it’s part of what makes the whole argument so horrible. That their parents don’t care enough to not use them as scapegoats, and don’t care enough to solve all their kingdoms' problems literally any other way that the cruelest and easiest one presented to them. 

“A lot of stolen books on diplomacy.” Jimmy mutters, and Fwhip files that away for later, so he can ask why the idiot has to steal books when he’s gonna be the leader of a whole damn country. Even if the answer is as simple as his mom being a horrible person, but still, the ginger likes knowing details about things. “But I'm here to talk about you, not our stupid arrangement.”

“....Me and Gem had a fight. A pretty bad one.” He admits with a sigh, and buries his head back into his arms. It’s easier to talk this way, if he doesn’t have to face the person he’s being forced to open up to. (Forced, like he couldn’t just cuss Jimmy out and be left alone afterwards…)

Jimmy lets out an understanding hum, their shoulders now somewhat touching. Fwhip pointedly decides to ignore that. “Is that why my last visit was canceled?”

“Yep.” Fwhip hums, popping the p. He really doesn't wanna talk about this. Especially not with Jimmy, in an unfamiliar empire no less. But he guesses he kinda has to for a little bit, well that’s what he’s been telling himself. Because Jimmy won’t shut up about it if he doesn’t, probably, and he’s annoying as fuck all the time.

“I get it. Me and Lizzie always argue.” The blonde said, sounding so sure of himself. Like this fight wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen to the ginger, like he could’ve known that without being told so. “Gem'll come around, eventually.”

“How do you know it was her fault?” Fwhip asks, tail curled tighter around himself. He isn’t even sure if it's Gem’s fault anymore; honestly it feels like it's more his fault than anything. He had been the one to start the argument, after all. But maybe it's none of their faults, maybe it's their parents, Fwhip doesn't know. All he knows is that he kinda wants to cry whenever he thinks about the fight. He knows that he feels guilty. He knows he loves Gem so fucking much and that fighting with her hurts, but being at home and dealing with their family also really, really hurts. 

Part of him thinks he just wants his childhood back. When they were both small and whole and blissfully unaware of all the problems yet to come. 

“I just have a feeling our sisters are very similar. That's all.” Jimmy says, now fully leaning on him. Fwhip is still ignoring it, and couldn’t decide if the touch was annoying or comforting at the moment. He didn’t want to find out either.

“You're an observant little fuck, aren't you?” He snorts, finally looking up again.

“So I've been told.” The cod holds back a small giggle, the happiest he’d sounded all day, before and after this moment. “We're going back to the Castle before nightfall, by the way, and we'll be back out here almost everyday.” He adds, moving away from the half dragon. Fwhip tries not to miss the contact of their shoulders too much.

“Is this how you live now? Because it kinda sucks man.” He huffs, uncurling himself slowly. He can’t imagine having to basically run an empire, on top of living at his horrible house and dealing with his horrible family. All while being barely sixteen as well….

Sometimes, it was very, very, very hard not to feel bad for Jimmy. To not feel a kind of companionship with their horrible situations all the time. It was very hard.

“I know. But I like the swamp more, so it's okay.” Jimmy mumbles quietly, and it sounds like he’s lying. He then nudges Fwhip a little harshly, and nearly topples him off the couch. It seems the feelings talk is complete over then, and it’s back to business as usual. “Now get up, we don't leave the swamp after sunset, and the afternoon’s already halfway over.”

“Fine. Bossy .” Fwhip huffed, and managed to get to his feet. He followed the other across the small shack and out of the door, into probably a horrible first night at the Prisma Palace, with many more to come after it. Jimmy said nothing as they walked and were brought back to his home, not a single word, and it was all he needed to say.

#ron.writing #ron.fic #jimmy solidarity #fwhimmy #empires smp #ily (im not supossed too) #fwhip #empiresshipping #empires shipping

[shamera]

NaNo day 14-15

...i got distracted last night and ended up reading manga instead, whoops. where am i going with this story? i feel like i need another idea to sustain my nano. just so i can work on something else when i get distracted, rather than staring blankly. then i can alternate or something.

anyway, here's wonderwall.

“No one helped you back?” Fang Duobing sounded heartbroken. 

Li Lianhua reached to pat his hand. “I was ill, and an outsider. It was kind enough of them not to throw me out. For all they knew, my illness could be contagious. Besides, Hulijing helped me back.”

A touching story, for sure. Di Feisheng shifted his weight as he eyed the dog, and then asked, “I’ll believe half of that.”

It was too sweet a tale to be entirely true, and seeing Li Lianhua’s bitter smile as he told it, Di Feisheng would reckon that half was a lie to placate himself. He didn’t know what parts were true, but that wasn’t the point. It was whether this story could convince Li Lianhua in the future to trust his words, even if the story itself was a lie. So long as he recognised it as his own lie, then it was fine. 

Fang Duobing, however, had a different reaction to that tale being exposed. 

“What?” The young man asked, looking between the two of them. “What do you mean— what really happened?”

Li Lianhua reached to flick him on the side of the head lightly when he pushed into his personal space. “Exactly as I said. You don’t need to worry about it any further.”

To Di Feisheng, he said, “Tell me about what happens in the village.”

— 

In the end, they write down a whole chart. Nonsense, most of it, but Li Lianhua looked satisfied nevertheless. Di Feisheng frowned as he realised how little he remembered from the first go at the day. There hadn’t been much that stood out to begin with for me, but with the repetition of days, there were details he couldn’t remember if it happened on the first iteration or on a repeat. 

“If this is only happening to you, what did you do?” Fang Duobing asked, and while his words were rude, his tone was genuinely curious. “Touch something weird? Killed the wrong person?”

“I stayed standing when the two of you were knocked out.” Di Feisheng told him. 

Fang Duobing flushed and puffed up. “I think Lao Di is lying.”

It was the truth, but with the look Li Lianhua was giving him, Di Feisheng dropped the topic. 

“We’ll look once we get there.” Li Lianhua said, and the three prepared for a trip that this time they knew would end disastrously. 

— 

Having foreknowledge did not mean it went any better than usual.

— 

The first family they met was deceivingly polite, and Li Lianhua clocked the drugged tea immediately with a smile, just as he had the very first time. With the added knowledge that the entire village was likely attempting to drug them for some reason, this time he subtly switched their drinks with the hosts’, and the three of them left after the family passed out atop their table. 

“Did that happen before?” Fang Duobing asked as they made their way across the tiny and unassuming village with none the wiser. Di Feisheng was unsure how to answer. 

The second family they spoke to was far more suspicious, quiet when asked about the missing travellers, cooperating only when Fang Duobing revealed himself to be a Baichuan Court detective. Di Feisheng did as he always did and stood menacingly to the side while the other two asked questions, keeping an eye on the two mischievous children who were whispering by the doorway. When the tea was poisoned once more, Li Lianhua merely gave a flat smile after snipping the liquid and this time set it down as if distracted by another thought. 

When none of them drank the tea, the family changed their antics and claimed to need help with something, attempting to coax them toward the back of the house before Di Feisheng interfered and knocked the two parents out, seeing at the young children was now nowhere to be found. 

“Did that happen the first time?” Fang Duobing demanded as they dragged the bodies to a more comfortable position. 

“We can just head straight to the dungeon.” Di Feisheng suggested. 

Li Lianhua shook his head as they closed the door to the knocked out people. “The point is to retrace your steps. We may have arrived because of the missing travellers, but… Whatever you saw, did, and where you went… did you follow them the first time?”

“No.” Di Feisheng confirmed. He grimaced at the thought of the third family. “...Fine, let’s get this over with.”

They didn’t have to go looking for the third family, as it was the third family that found them. Or rather, two of the five unmarried daughters of the third family who attempted to bodily collide with Di Feisheng and Fang Duobing respectively, and fell into a swoon on the ground even when their collision didn’t happen. 

“Apologies, young masters,” the younger one, a dainty thing with such weak wrist bones that Di Feisheng doubted she could so much as lift a sword, called out as she clutched onto the fallen arm of her older sister, who had a sleeve raised to her face in faux distress. “A thousand apologies! My sister and I are in dire need of your help!”

For a moment, Fang Duobing looked like he would reach toward them to actually help despite the fact that Di Feisheng warned him in advance of this exact situation, but then he pulled back with a regretful expression as Li Lianhua kicked him in the leg. 

If Di Feisheng could avoid this family, he would. In fact, he was tempted to do so despite the hard look Li Lianhua was throwing his way, already knowing what he was thinking. 

“Of course we’ll help.” Li Lianhua told them, and the sisters tittered at each other as they stared up at him with large doe eyes. He gestured with a sleeve when they got up (unlike the first time when Fang Duobing had reached to help them up and received an ‘accidental’ cut across his arm). “Lead the way.”

— 

The knockout incense Di Feisheng unapologetically swiped from Lotus Tower kicked in right after the ageing parents eagerly offered up their daughters to be wed to the prominent detective and his friends. Their choice of the lot! There were five of them to choose from, after all! 

Fang Duobing had a white cloth to his face, wet to absorb the smoke before he could inhale too much of it. It didn’t hide his disturbed expression. 

“They really did that.” He said, wide eyes turning to Di Feisheng. “But… that’s their daughters! They don’t even know us!”

Di Feisheng gruntled an acknowledgement, one hand holding his own wet cloth to his nose as the other started rummaging around the room, attempting to find the clues that had originally led them to the dungeon. Behind him, Li Lianhua was the only one without a cloth, carefully setting a few of the daughters who had fallen at awkward angles into a more comfortable position on the floor. 

“Some families struggle to feed everyone,” Li Lianhua placated, which Di Feisheng thought was far too generous a statement considering the youngest daughter was perhaps ten years of age. And for the fact that there was something very wrong with the village, and the family was one of the ones attempting to poison them. 

A thud toward the back of a drawer, and Di Feisheng pulled out an inscribed stone triumphantly. He shook the palm-sized stone up in the air to catch the attention of the others. 

“Here,” he said, tossing the stone over to Fang Duobing, who caught it easily. “Skip the pleasantries. They offer their daughters, Li Lianhua claimed he already had a fiancee, they offer their daughters, and you tried to say the same but they didn’t believe you—”

“That is unfair.” Fang Duobing exclaimed. “He doesn’t have a fiancee.”

“And you do.” Li Lianhua nodded along, the amused smile barely hidden in time as he turned his head away from Fang Duobing’s accusing stare. 

“And they didn’t offer you?” Fang Duobing asked Di Feisheng, tone accusing. Di Feisheng, on the other hand, just gave him a flat stare, attempting to convey that of course he was far too frightening for the couple to offer him one of their daughters in marriage. 

(The truth was that he was uncomfortable thinking about just how close their eldest daughter sat the first time they were invited for tea, leaning into his space to whisper her opinions and senseless words to him while inching her way closer to Di Feisheng by the moment until she was practically on his lap and he had to physically shove her off, which was what started the skirmish in the first place. Then one of the daughters tried to stab them with a poisoned knife, and Li Lianhua knocked her out.)

“We ask around the village,” Di Feisheng continued his summary. “Eventually find a cavern by the well that leads to the dungeon. Congratulations, we’ve saved an entire sichen of search time.”

“We should be doing the search.” Li Lianhua reminded him. Fang Duobing was squinting at the inscriptions on the stone, holding up and tilting his head as if the changed perspective would make sense of what was written on it.

“There were a lot of trees.” Di Feisheng said. “Grass. Dirt. We encountered few people, and none came close to us. No strange smells, no strange sounds.”

Li Lianhua gave him a flat look. “You’re risking missing pivotal information nevertheless.”

“If that happens, I’ll go back again.” Di Feisheng said. 

Li Lianhua narrowed his eyes. “You’re assuming there’s an ‘again’. And if there is a limited amount of repeats for you to find the cause of the situation?”

“Then there are a limited amount of repeats, and I live past them. And we solve what happened here tomorrow. Or leave.”

“Then why bother with this?” Fang Duobing interjected when it looked like Li Lianhua was too irritated by those words to respond. “If you’re repeating today, but you seem to be okay with it… you’re not worried about things going wrong, and you’re not worried about this not ending, it seems…”

Di Feisheng didn’t understand it fully himself. While curious and mildly inconvenienced by the repeating days, he had also been relieved and used the time to spend his days… exploring. He had the time to search for the Styx flower now, and there were no worries clear in the future with the repeats. Some days he woke and trained, other days he woke and allowed the repetition of conversations wash over him like rereading a worn book. Other days, like the previous iteration of ‘today’, he did something new. 

Perhaps it was because his training would amount to nothing when the day restarted. 

“So I can answer your questions when I do live past this day.” Di Feisheng answered them. He turned and shut the drawer he had taken the stone from, uncertain why it would rather not face their stares at this moment. “Whatever is causing this may be useful.”

He didn’t know why he felt like a liar. 

— 

The dungeon underneath the cave was filled with the same curious trinkets, the same cells, the same gaping entrance that he thought couldn’t possibly trap them with how wide it was. There were the same cobwebs and the same torches, the same mismatched tiles interlaced on the ground and the same stifling air that made it almost hard to breathe. 

Fang Duobing picked up the same broken bronze plate, frowned, and tossed it the same place as the first time he did that. Li Lianhua leaned in with his torch to examine the same unreadable inscription on the wall. 

“Superstition and folklore,” Li Lianhua concluded after a thorough examination of the pictures and words, torch flickering as he brought it around. Di Feisheng stayed near the entrance, arms crossed as he leaned his shoulder against the wall. “Warnings to not venture out late at night in fear of vengeful ghosts, and goddesses that demand sacrifice.”

“Sounds more like demons,” Fang Duobing said. 

“Perhaps it was.” Li Lianhua made a considering noise before turning his torchlight toward Di Feisheng. “Was there anything in here you touched? Disturbed? Knocked over, perhaps?”

“I let the two of you handle this place.” Di Feisheng told him. He didn’t remember actually examining anything in particular, only the violence that came after.

“A-Fei,” Li Lianhua said with a sigh, “you are no help at all.”

“Hey,” Fang Duobing’s voice called to them from across the dungeon toward the back of one of the cells. “I think I found something.”

They made their way over to him, where Fang Duobing was holding a red lacquer box the size of a pillow, worn and dusty but otherwise in good enough condition it didn’t fit in the setting of the dungeon. He brushed the dust from the box, frowning as he turned it one way and another. There must have once been vivid paints along the grain of the box, but now it had faded into something that only hinted at its once brilliance. 

“It looks old,” Fang Duobing remarked, “but recently handled. Look here—” 

He was correct in that there were areas on the box more worn than others, the colours fading into pale wood through the lacquer, like fingerprints where it was held over and over again. The layer of grime was higher in those areas, but the dust entirely gone. Along the crease between the opening of the box, there was a scent of metallic bitterness. Fang Duobing attempted to open the box, but it didn’t budge.

Li Lianhua lowered his torch to get a better look, even as Fang Duobing raised the box, searching for another method of opening it. 

Di Feisheng didn’t recall seeing it before. He frowned, crowding in close. 

“Got it!” Fang Duobing said triumphantly as he touched a mechanism mostly hidden along the bottom of the box, hearing a click as a latch gave way and he fingered the seam once more. 

“Wait—” Li Lianhua started, and Di Feisheng smelt the metal and sulphur a moment before he saw the glint of fire in the corner of the room, grabbing each of them with a hand to drag them backward only for the tiny flint of light in the corner catch ablaze within a split moment to become a roaring blaze, the walls of the cell coated with something that whited his vision immediately. 

— 

Di Feisheng woke up in Lotus Tower, entire body tense with the aftershock of fire running along his nerves, and breathed through lungs that felt seared from a nightmare. 

For the first time since the repeats, he grit his teeth and had to swallow down failure.

#NaNoWriMo #mlc nano 2023 #am doing this early for tonight because i STRUGGLED #i did not like the idea that i had to include plot in this story #i was not prepared to plot this story #what if i wrote fang xiaobao getting video game isekai'ed instead #one of the video game store rewards: cure to all poisons #it costs like a ridiculous amount of points but he's gunna get it

[shrinkthisviolet]

OC question: Has anyone ever claimed any of your OCs as their child? How'd your OC feel about that?

Ooh well for Morgan, there’s ofc Tina. Morgan’s always seen Tina as a mom anyway, and she knows Tina’s her godmother, so the shift isn’t surprising or even really all that jarring. In a lot of ways…it’s freeing. She didn’t realize just how suffocated she felt with Eowells around…until he wasn’t anymore (and she feels this complicated mix of relief and guilt around the whole thing).

Of course, things aren’t totally smooth sailing—s2 explores some tension between them as Morgan grapples with “either she knew he was an imposter the whole time and still let me live with him and lied, or she didn’t know and she thus wasn’t as close with my birth dad as I thought.” Though as with most things, the truth lies somewhere in the middle 🥺

For Amelia, Rosalie and Otto Octavius in the MCU, who by my headcanon are basically the Raimi versions but tragedy hasn’t struck them (yet 👀 maybe it will, maybe it won’t). Amelia isn’t sure what to make of them at first—they’re not the first family to try to foster her during the Blip, and she’s certain it’ll go the same way—yelling, screaming, and insults from both sides, and eventually an unceremonious trip back to the overcrowded orphanage.

But the Octaviuses…they’re different. They don’t back down when she purposely pushes their buttons and acts difficult—in fact, this gets them to try harder. Amelia doesn’t understand it. She’s not even really their family, all of this is just temporary until May and Peter come back—because they will, Amelia’s sure, they have to—so why are they trying so hard? It takes some time, but eventually, Amelia comes to realize their efforts are genuine, and they adopt her. She then becomes Amelia Parker Octavius…and even after May and Peter come back, Amelia remains an Octavius. She loves her new family too much to give them up 🥺 she has Parker and Octavius in her name, she can be both (until of course a certain death and a spell force her to only be one)

Reyna…sorta has this with Kamilla? But then again, Kamilla’s been part of Reyna’s life for as long as she can remember. Reyna adores her stepmother, the most present parent in her life*, and Kamilla adores her right back. Reyna loves her dad too ofc, but…she and her stepmom have a special bond 🥰 even in the past, she gravitates to Kamilla before anyone (well…after Nora, but before anyone else)

*Cynthia gave Reyna to Cisco to raise so she can continue to be a Breacher full time, and Cisco is partially in hiding due to his powers (metahumans being illegal in the future and all that). He did think of giving them up, so he could be more present to raise Reyna, but…she’s also the reason why he’s keeping them (in case of another outburst like in her younger years), along with him still wanting to help the displaced and endangered metas who need someone like Vibe in the absence of the Flash 🥺

Lucy has a similar situation with Obi-Wan, in that he adopts and raises her from essentially her babyhood, but it’s also a little different because she thinks he’s really her dad. I haven’t totally decided how the reveal is gonna play out, but…yeah, there’s gonna be some hurt feelings. Just because Lucy understands his reasons and knows that he genuinely did the best he could at the time doesn’t mean his lies don’t hurt.

ask my OC(s) anything!

Taglist (send an ask or DM to be added or removed):

@arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @raith-way @vexic929 @ironverseocs @thechaoticfanartist @goldheartedchaoticdisaster @negative-speedforce @dream-beyond-the-fantasy

#oc: morgan wells #tina mcgee #brotp: central city could use a sentry #oc: amelia parker #otto octavius #rosalie octavius #oc: reyna ramon #kamilla hwang #oc: lucy kenobi #obi wan kenobi #brotp: we’re a team #oc ask game

[sopejinsunflower]

a/n: I had this idea while entertaining the thought of writing a fic as a bunch of letters instead of the usual narration. But since I’m focused on writing Eidolons now, I decided to change it up a bit. For those who read all of my individual member’s one shot, you will know that none of them had any resolution. So here is a sort of closure to those one shots, written in the form of letters. I put it under OT7 because, well, technically they are? So before you read this one, I suggest you read the one shots first or these won’t make sense lol

Summary: The members wrote a letter to you in regards to their individual stories on my one shots. Unedited

Tags: AU! Short imagines, angsty, fluff

Pairing: Namjoon x you, Jin x you, Yoongi x you, Hoseok x you, Jimin x you, Taehyung x you, Jungkook x you

Namjoon

My dearest y/n,

I know you don’t want to hear it (or read it) but I just feel like I need to let you know you were the love of my life, the light of my soul and the missing piece to my puzzle. You were everything to me and I fucked that up. 

I threw away the one thing I’ve been looking to find, destroyed the one good thing I ever had in my life to chase a glimmer that I thought was gold. But it wasn’t and losing you was a true wake up call. I was greedy and selfish, blinded by my own ego and insecurity to properly come to terms with my own indiscretion. I hurt you the way I promised myself to never do. I broke my wedding vow to you. Nothing I say or do can ever mend this.

To be honest, losing you is a fear that has always been there at the edge of my mind since the day I met you. You were so perfect, so beautiful, so charming I was melted butter in your hands. I fell in love with you faster than I can say “That’s crazy!” but I did, baby. I did. I saw our future together, the life I wanted to have with you, growing old with you. I could see the kids we would have, running around the house, little pitter patter of feet that I would miss when I have to go on my work trips. 

How stupid I was to have done what I did. I was weak and pathetic and gave in to lust and my alcohol-clouded mind. But she didn't mean anything, just a one time thing. Those two weeks put me through hell, wondering how to even come clean. I felt so guilty. What was even worse was the fact that my insecurity caused me to question if you in turn. I couldn’t deal with the blunder I made and had somehow wishfully thought that maybe you had done the same, that way the blame could be shifted. All those times I left you home alone for weeks on end, all those times I couldn’t be there for you.

It was unfair of me to go after your longtime friendship with Min Yoongi. I should’ve known better. I don’t know. I don’t know what was going through my head then. I wish I could take it all back! I wish I could go back in time and make everything okay again. But this is another wishful thinking. 

I miss you so much. The emptiness I feel grows too large for anything else to fill my heart. Any other new partners were just bed warmers; they’re not you. No one can ever be you. No one can ever take your place. And I think it’s fine like this. I’m better off alone. 

I saw a picture of our daughter on Yoongi’s Instagram. She’s gorgeous, just like her mother. I spent the whole night crying on the bathroom floor when I saw that photo. God, what have I done? My family. I broke us up before it even began. You must wonder why I don’t reach out, why I don’t want to see her, why I refuse custody. I’m ashamed, y/n. I’m ashamed of the things I did and I don’t want our daughter to have such a scum of a father. Don’t worry about child support, that will always come. It’s my new vow to you. I’ve set up a trust fund for her that should take care of her long after I’m gone. 

   Yoongi is a good uncle, I can tell. She seems to adore him. He’s a great father figure and it’s all she would ever need. I’m sorry for everything; the pain, the heartache, the betrayal. I can’t say it enough. But I can see that you’re happy now, happier without me. And it’s my only source of happiness, too. You deserve more, baby. You deserve everything I couldn’t give to you and everything that I took away from you.

I wish you nothing but the best and I hope you forgive me. I love you, y/n. I still do even after all these years. I don’t think I will ever stop and it’s the one thing I’ll take to my grave. 

Always and forever yours,

Namjoon.

Note: He never sent this letter, buried somewhere in the drawer of his home office. He had wanted to, even had it stamped. But he thought he had done enough damage. The letter is merely what he wishes he could have said to you.

Jin

To y/n,

I’m a piece of shit, I know. I’ve been told. Many times. But I’m a hot piece of shit. Okay, not funny. 

I’m writing this letter because I think you blocked me? And seems like you’ve moved, too. The new address your building manager gave me looks like a really nice house. Did you get married? If yes, congratulations. You’re a great girl, I’m sure you found someone just as amazing.

Look, I’m writing this to just apologise for what I did. It was a shitty thing to do, careless and selfish. In my defence, it started out all in good fun. You didn’t know who I was and I liked that. Compared to the usual screaming and frenzy when people see me, having someone who had no clue who I was, was refreshing. And you were cute and I had initially just wanted to tease you. I honestly didn’t know that it would turn out this way.

I lost a good friend because of this. And I don’t have many friends to begin with, being in this industry. Everybody seems to want to hang out with me because they want something. Money, usually. It’s a lonely life so don’t get famous, okay? Haha. 

I don’t know why I’m writing you this letter or why I’m desperate for you to have it. I’m not a bad person. At least, I don’t think so. The girls that came and went were only there because they wanted a glimpse of the glamorous life. But once they learn that it’s not so glamorous, they leave. I’m not one to brood over people like that but there’s been too many too much. It’s getting exhausting. It is exhausting. 

Then I remembered you. You who wanted nothing but an actual connection but I guess I haven’t had much of that so I didn’t recognise it at first. So I played that game, mostly for anonymity because I had liked that you liked talking to me as a person, a human being. But that was the extent of it. Anything else more was just an attempt at trying to exert whatever dominance I could to save my bruised ego, and for that I’m truly sorry. 

I don’t want to write too long but I hope you know this is sincere. Are you still not watching TV? Did you see my latest movie? You should. I look good in it. 

I hope you read this letter. If not, it’s okay, too. Whatever your choice is, I’m thankful for that brief moment when you saw right through me. I had needed that.

Sincerely,

Jin.

P/S: Btw, Jungkook had no part in this. I hope you weren’t too hard on him. He’s a good kid. I miss him.

Note: Jin had written a separate letter for Jungkook, sent via a postcard from Italy. The picture was a flag of Italy with the caption Grab Life by the Meatballs, in large capital letters. It was sent to Jungkook’s family home address.

Jungkook-ah,

I’m sorry I was an asshole. Where did you move to? I’ve been trying to find you but it seems that you just disappeared. Please, call me. Your hyung misses you and would prefer a hard knock on the head rather than this silent treatment. I fucked up, I know. But I want to make it right. You were like a brother to me and I’m sorry I let you down and hurt you. 

Call me, please. When you’re ready to talk. 

Hyung.

Yoongi

Dear y/n,

How have you been? I haven’t heard from you in awhile, but then again, I guess that’s kind of the point. 

Y’know, it’s funny. I thought I saw you the other day at the train station. But when I tried to find you, you weren’t there. I probably made you up, seeing things that I’ve been dying to see. Yeah. I really miss you. And I know I shouldn’t be saying this. You deserved better. 

You were right. I couldn’t see what I had until it was already too late. I was too busy focusing on helping others put the pieces of their lives back together that I disregarded the life we had that was falling apart. I did this to us. I ruined us. I was too blind and selfish, too righteous in my own way to even see the damage I was doing to you, to us. I should’ve been there for you, should’ve done more. 

I took your patience for granted, gambling away chances after chances, thinking that I was doing the right thing. But, please believe me when I say that I didn’t mean to hurt you. Breaking your heart was my biggest regret. I threw away a love that was given to me so freely and so unconditionally. I see that now but I know it’s too late. 

I hope you are happy wherever you are. I hope the next man gives you everything I couldn’t and didn’t. I hope he takes you dancing every weekend because I know you love to dance. I hope he knows that your favourite bouquet is anything with baby’s breaths in them and I hope he gets a ton of them for you. I hope he knows how much you love your kids at the kindergarten and I hope he loves the way your eyes crinkle whenever you talk about them. I hope he holds your hand and never lets go. Like I did.

I know I don’t deserve it but I hope that one day you’ll forgive me for being a weak man. You probably don’t want to hear this but I just want you to know that I still love you. I did then and I will always. You were the one that got away.

Yours truly,

Yoongi.

Hoseok

Hey!

So, um, I’m here in New York. Just arrived. But, uh, you didn’t tell me which hotel you’re staying at lol text me back soon! I got the stuff you told me to bring. Can’t wait to see you.

Hoseokxx

He deleted the last sentence before pressing send.

Jimin

Jimin had nothing to say. He had deleted all of your contact details after the night of the threesome. His business runs as usual, including the underground, private parties in collaboration with Taehyung. He had no regrets.

Taehyung

To my future bride-to-be,

You can run but you can’t hide forever. Not from me, baby. Even if it takes months or years, I’ll find you. And when I do, you’ll regret running away from me. I told you, marry me or you’ll never find peace and a life in hiding is nowhere near peaceful. 

Come back, while I still have the grace to forgive you.

Signed,

Your only saviour.

Jungkook

Hello, my love, 

It still feels a little weird to be able to call you that. But like a good kind of weird. I’m just grinning to myself while I’m writing this. OMG, I’m so pathetic it’s cringey!

Ok, so I told you I suck at writing letters but since you wanted one, here you go! But…I don’t know what to say so I’ll just say whatever I feel like saying, I guess. I love you. HA! You probably know this already but god, I love you. So fucking much. Since that first time I saw you. 

I know the way we met was bad and I wish I could erase all that part but I don’t wanna. If I erase all of that, we wouldn’t have met and I would never get the chance to get to know you and we wouldn’t be here today. But I want to let you know that not a day went by without you in my mind, not a day passed that I wish I wasn’t such a coward and had just come clean or talked to you. 

I know we talked about this and I know we’ve moved past this but it’s important for me that you know that you’ve always been there, in the back of my mind, in everything that I do. And I hope you’ll remain here forever and always. I want you with every step of the way moving forward. I love waking up to you, I love going to sleep with you by my side. I love that Bam loves you! And I love the way you call him your boy, too, sometimes. I think that’s cute. He’s our boy. It sounds like we’re a family with a son, hehe

Okay, my handwriting is just getting worse now so maybe I’ll stop? I can say everything else to you face to face. My hand is cramping up. 

Thank you for coming back into my life, y/n. Thank you for finding it in your heart to give me a second chance. I promise I won’t waste it. I’ll do everything that I can to make it up to you going forward. I want nothing but good memories between us. I know it’s ridiculous and that yes, we’ll have fights and bad times ahead but I know we can get through it all. Together. But can you please leave the laundry to me? I, um, have a specific method to it. Thanks ❤️

Anyway, I’m expecting a reward for this letter. Later tonight? :3

Love you!

JK

Note: he had kept Jin’s ridiculous postcard in a drawer, for safekeeping. He’s not sure to reply or not yet. But he’s glad to have it, a reminder that maybe, there’s a chance to mend that bridge.

a/n2: well, lmk what you think in the comments or ask as usual :) if you like, pls like and reblog ❤️

Check out my other works → :MASTERLIST:

Tags:

@effielumiere @serendididy

#bts fic #bts one shot #bts x you #bts x reader #ot7 fic #bts ot7 #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #namjoon x you #jin x you #yoongi x you #hoseok x you #jimin x you #taehyung x you #jungkook x you #ot7 imagine #bts imagine #angst #fluff #bts angst #bts fluff

[poetryinsilence]

Oceans and Engines (part IV)

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female!Reader

part I | part II | part III | part IV | part V

A/n: I hope you were having a good day up until this point. Cuz it’s gonna go downhill. Major character death!!! Jk it’s in the film so it’s not really a spoiler…unless you still haven’t seen the film yet then I’m sorry…for you I mean, like, why haven’t you seen the film yet? Why are you reading this before seeing the film? Go watch it and then rewatch it again to make it your personality for at least two whole months. Then you’ll want a warranty extension for another six months or so. BOOM angst let’s go!

Wc: 2,3k

It didn't take long for the both of you to move in together. You always envisioned starting a life with Bob; building a place together with little pieces of yourselves until it embodies the both of you, struggling to assemble Ikea furniture even though you both followed the instructions, and watching as he paints the living room and giggling when he missed a spot. You look once over your new storage room, tucked away various bits and bobs, anticipating what it could become in the future, with an extra bit of life. Slowly but surely, this is the place that you call home with him. That’s where your new life begins, with Bob every step of the way.

This new life integrated with Bob seamlessly. It gave him something to look forward to from the moment he wakes up next to you. The weekend meant so much more to him. With his old self, he would filter in going to the gym and library just to pass the time. Now, he gets to spend every minute with you. Saturday mornings are filled with his favourite omelette with an extra side of buttermilk pancakes, you give it your own spin and introduce bacon to his pancakes; blanched for one minute, drained then fried for a minute or two. His eyes sparkled with excitement, and you caught a glimpse of his child wonders; all bright-eyed and rosy cheeks. On Sundays, he learned to cook breakfast in bed. Bob did his best to fry an omelette without turning it into charcoal. And over time, a soft, fluffy omelette is served with a waking kiss.

With his free time, you would spend it cuddling on the soft spring coach with your weight pressed up against his, and his fingers lovingly twirling strands of your silken hair, until you are fused into one. On nights when you can’t sleep, he would drive you around the suburbs with the low hum of the car lulling you until your eyes grew tired to keep them awake. If all that fails, a 3 am grocery shopping trip is ensured to keep you company. You argued that Bob needs to sleep, but he will always insist that he’s not tired and more than happy enough to stay with you. To nobody's surprise, groceries are purchased more than what you both needed. It takes an hour to sort and organise their placement. But it comes with a little special routine you’d like to do.

Honeysuckle-scented candles flamed on the kitchen counter, Bob took your hands and shimmied across the kitchen tiles barefoot with the mellow, rhythmic music strumming through the walls. You danced with the refrigerator door open as your spotlight, with each shift of movement, peals of laughter and exchanging kisses until the break of dawn calls. Here, you know happiness. In him, you call home.

There will come a time when you will veil in white and dance all night to your favourite song. Friends cheer and families cry, but love stays hand in heart to a slow waltz underneath dancing lights. Bound together by a ring and a name, Floyd, that you will hold dear till the end of time. There will come a time you’d dream of faraway places and watch yourselves grow old still hand in hand, enwrapped by the love you've learnt and found. What contentment you wish to last forever, but the entropy in life is not without a cause.

Time.

Time and time again.

On a Friday morning, your eyes drift open with an indescribable ache in your chest. Numb in a low bass hum. You sprung up with the sunlight seeping through the cracks of the curtains, meeting the frame of your face. Although you thought it was the ray of shine obstructing your sight, a gentle hand rubs your eye to refocus your vision. To your surprise, what you find isn’t residue causing a blurriness, but a warm stream of teardrop trickles down your right cheek.

Unwillingly and unaware.

Was it because of a dream that you had? You don’t know. The memory of it faded the moment you were pulled back to reality. But, a sinking feeling sits deep in the pit of your stomach. It irks and twists inside out, drowning you six feet under. Panic? Worry? Yes and no. Though not for yourself, but someone else.

Your hand drifts across the bedsheet to find it cold and empty. Bob had already taken off for work before the day breaks. Normally, it doesn’t bother you. But today of all days, you needed him the most. For him to tell you that it’s okay; you’re safe, you’re home. He wraps his strong arms around you and gently rocks side to side, kissing the crown of your head until your restless thoughts melt away.

In the absence of Bob, you can only bite down your tongue and carry on with your day; hoping this dreadfulness will soon pass. And it did. Slowly, the bitter taste dissolves into the light of day with the help of Bob’s sweater fitted loosely on you. The safety and comfort of being in his presence were enough to calm you, but not enough to sate your longing for his touch.

The clock ticking away with each repetitive tock, the looming sound fills and echoes through the living room in symphony with the white noise. The audio from the TV is turned down to a barely audible whisper that drifts in one ear and out of the other. You stare mindlessly at the screen playing, unacknowledging what is happening in the scenes.

The screen on your phone shows 10:38 pm, and Bob hasn’t called or texted you he’s gonna be running late tonight. Usually, he would let you know if he’s staying a little longer for training and usher you to go to bed. But he would find you fast asleep on the sofa still with the TV in the background, waiting for him to come home in the dark-lit room, alone. Bob sighs as a pang of guilt hits his chest. His arm cushions around you, making sure to not wake you up. Sneaking discreetly into the bedroom and tucking you in, embracing you close to him as his heartbeat soothes the last grip you hold on your consciousness and drifts off into an etheric slumber.

10:42 pm, still no sign of him. Your worries grow greater by the minute. Fingers fiddling and nail scraping in between your teeth, you stare intensely at your phone screen that could bore a hole through it.

Just stare and wait.

The edges of your vision blur and double; a vignette through a looking glass. It focuses and unfocuses like a camera lens, the shutter trying to find purchase of an object. Without a second thought; your hand snatches the phone within a millisecond of a buzz, but your body jolts a fraction later. Thumb glides to answer without hesitation.

"Hey, sweetie. Listen, I won't be home tonight. There's...something at work—"

"Robert Floyd, you better tell me you're okay. I've been worried sick about you—thought your phone might have just run out of battery and you will call soon, but then what if you were hurt and injured—"

"No, no, I'm fine! I'm okay. They're suggesting staying for the night just for closer inspection. But really I-I'm okay."

"Bob, I know you're not being truthful to me."

"I promise you, I-I'm okay–"

A gentle knock comes through with an abrupt interruption.

"Lieutenant Floyd? We need you in the conference room immediately."

"Hon, I love you. I'll speak to you soon."

"Bob—"

The line clicks before you could finish, and only a picture of you and Bob smiling brightly is left on your lock screen. Confusion charters through your mind, but in all honesty, it’s the first time you’re upset with Bob. Did he feel uncomfortable telling you the whole truth? Did your worries matter that little to him?

You lay eyes wide glaring at the ceiling. The bed is cold with unfamiliarity, and sleep is far from your reach. There’s no one here to rock you to sleep, no one here to share warmth with entangled limbs, and no one here to take you on a night drive for a grocery run. And truly, for the first time in a long while, you felt utterly alone.

You listened closely to the white noise, at any moment, you’ll hear the sound of the front door quietly clicking shut. The silence of the night surrounds you with hopelessness, time passing slowly in a dire wait for the sun to rise. The hours count down until songbirds greet your morning.

Red eyes meet you in the mirror; fingers tread along the dark circles appearing in a purplish hue, and the look of impending grim hangs on your face with a sigh. The splash of crisp water on your face certainly did the trick to get you partially awake. Or at least enough to not let your boyfriend be the one that worries.

For the rest of the morning, your mind is fully preoccupied with the conversation from last night, but you’re pushing those feelings away and trying to not let them get to you. You busied yourself with work and whatever is laying around the house, but from time to time, those feelings resurface with disturbance. You hated yourself for feeling this way; the pettiness that choke holds you and leaves little air for you to breathe. This…isn’t you.

Your eyes snapped away from the laptop at the sound of your front door unlocking. You bolted off the chair in a flash, hip bumping into the edge of the table as you winced in pain. The aftershock sends a rumble to the surface causing the day-aged coffee cup to topple, spilling its content across the hardwood tabletop and dully rolling off the ledge and with a beat, it shatters. Your head turns around and takes a quick glance at your favourite cup; one you bought as a pair with Bob on a sporadic trip to Target, now laid shattered and in fragments depicting an ominous sign. You could deal with that later, but right now, greeting your boyfriend is all that matters.

Arms fling around Bob and holding him in a tight embrace, you inhale the familiar scent sending you comfort and security. Except, Bob doesn't reciprocate the hug like he normally does—arms hooked around your waist and twirling you around until you are left breathless. No, he stayed statued and limped on the spot, eyes trained to the floor rather than greeting you with those baby blues. You pulled back to give him a look over, decoding the deep crease rooted on his forehead and a solemn note coated his face.

Bob's voice breaks with a shaky breath. "He's gone...Admiral Kazansky's gone..."

*

Things often go overlooked in life when you're not careful, especially when it is something you deeply admire. Prior to Top Gun, Bob had already heard of the infamous Admiral Kazansky. His services and achievements during his time in the naval academy are admirable, graduating at the top of his class, and rising through the ranks step by step. Maverick, on the other hand, is a name he learnt on the first day. Hidden amongst the greater names, unpredictable, and a rebel without a cause. He cares not about status nor ranks in naval aviation, but a deep profound skill and passion for flying. On one hand, Bob wants to be like Admiral Kazansky. And on the other hand, he wants to learn like Maverick. A stark contrast of black and white, where one cannot live without the other.

Yet, reality depletes them with a rinse of a brush, a singularity on a blank canvas. Watching Maverick dressed in a well-respected uniform with a tense frame, he stood stagnant in front of the cherry wood casket. The stoic look doesn’t wear well on him.

The ceremony felt surreal. Life and death seem to be differentiated by a fragile line that could easily be snapped by a featherless touch. And that's what scares him. Bob's eyes follow Maverick's mechanical movement; clipping his wings off and adjusting them onto the casket. At the sound of 19 guns, he simultaneously punches the insignia to seal a piece of him along with the Admiral, a sound made Bob flinch with anxiety while his feet are nailed to the earth. An explosion that resembles a toll of a bell, the echo that still follows long after it faded. Funerals aren’t held to commemorate the dead, but for the living to say their peace and offer their last goodbyes.

Circumstances run great when you're in the navy. Everybody knows that. Death plays a major part in it; if you hadn't come across losing someone dear to you, down the line, you'll be familiar with the feeling. Despite that, the Admiral's family knew a day like this would come, and yet that sombreness doesn't stray far. Sobs and sniffles accompanied friends and families, and a free flow of tears ran down Mrs Kazansky's face as she clutched the neatly folded flag in a tight grip and creases dug deep like the cracks within her. No one could predict the last 24 hours were the last hours they could spend with him. She would give anything and everything she had just to spend a minute longer together.

In Bob's last 24 hours, his perspective of things changed drastically. He doesn't blame Phoenix for what happened; she handled it best to her judgement. A momentarily brush past death itself but he walks free and unscathed. But the news about Admiral Kazansky's death set his alarm in full motion. What would've happened if he had wrongly informed Phoenix? Would the circumstances change and he would be the one laying there instead? And would it be the same for you; the love in your eyes pouring out along with the tears watering the soil that separates you from him?

He hoped that these questions cannot be defined by an answer. And let them lain to rest as the casket lowers with one final salute.

#robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert floyd #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #tgm fic #fanfic #fanfiction #lewis pullman #⭐️.doc

[editorialsonlife]

15.10.23

Aaaaah where to even start at the moment.

The election last night sucked balls. I'm so deeply unimpressed and worried about the future of this country, and the fact that so many people think an individualistic capitalistic hellscape is the only way forward. We've lost sight of the fact that a rising tide lifts all boats, and I'm so worried about the future for our lower income, marginalised, already discriminated against people and what this outcome will mean for them ya know? It's incredibly rough and it's going to be incredibly interesting to see where the next few years lead us.

On a personal level.... it's been a month of chaos. I had a lovely weekend with a friend in sydney, started the antidepressants when I got home (which has been a whole trip that I will delve into more) and then in the same three days, my friend ended up in hospital and was airlifted to our bigger wellington hospital for emergency spinal surgery with a significantly high risk of becoming paraplegic or quadriplegic. It was a really insane, really stressful few days, but damn oh damn did we absolutely have a great time being in the same city again honestly. it was so good seeing her every day for like a week. She ended up having the emergency surgery which went well, but they've identified problems with just about every vertebrae and disk in her spine so that's not great. fortunately, she got quite a lot of function back after her surgery. She's still in for a long road of recovery, but given she was walking around a ward clutching my arm and could barely get 10 steps in before needing to sit she's done amazingly well. This is the girl I hike mountains with, we do yoga, we've done bootcamp and weightlifting and walks and everything in between and I am so terrified for her and her family. so stressful honestly.

That was a super great week to start tablets that make you more deperessed and anxious before they start working adn unfortuantely for me I've hit just about every common side effect and some of the obscure ones as well while I've been onboarding up to a full dose. I'm still not there three weeks in and I probably won't be for another three at the rate I'm going tbh but anyway.

I think it's also starting to sink in just quite how depressed I actually have been for a very long time and there's a bunch of self reckoning and grief that comes with that and its feeling like a whole thing at the moment. I also just cannot. CANNOT. Start things at the moment and it's the actual worst. if I have to deliver something for someone else then I can pull it together briefly (and v last minute) but I cannot get anything done for myself or if there's no impending deadline and all I can say is this better fucking pass really quickly coz I'm not about this life it's incredibly hard to manage.

I also just... do not know who I am anymore or what I like or what I do for fun? All my weekend friends have left and Dave is such a homebody and now I just don't do anything in the weekends? I have no one to go on walks with or get coffee with and its a really weird thing to deal with? I have a load of friends but with Lynaire and Larissa gone, and Shelley constantly in Auckland it's all just completely shifted? I don't like it and I need to do something about it. I also don't know what I do for fun anymore or just for me and I need to find some things like asap.

One of the v interesting things to come out of the Sydney trip tho is that the friend I was visiting is SUCH a gym person and counts macros and gyms every day and even tho I'm like 40kg overweight I absolutely had more endurance than her. We were doing like 20-25,000 steps a day and she was so cooked by the end of it but I still had the energy to go for a swim etc and go for an evening stroll. So I guess there's that even if I am horrendously fat right now.

I dunno what this govt change is gunna do for jobs but I'm finding that a weird thought. I don't know what I'll do for work when I move to palmy or if I wanna retrain or something. Will be weird. who knows. I honestly can't picture anything before T swift in feb next year. the future is just so unknown right now so I guess that'll just keep rolling. time will tell and we'll meet it when it gets here.

that about sums it all up really?

[whovianwatchingstartrek]

A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 026 - Ravages of a War Across Time

Star Trek: Enterprise - Season 2 Episode 1 - Shockwave Part 2

It felt like an accomplishment changing that Season number. Anyways, I wanna know how that cliff-hanger gets resolved. Onwards!

This episode really had two moving plots. The Situation on the enterprise and Archer and Daniels in the future. There was also the Vulcan Human tensions reaching a boiling point on Earth due to the Enterprise not returning, but that was more background than a plot thread.

The episode opens with T'Pol convincing the Suliban to board enterprise to confirm Archer's absence, instead of just blowing enterprise out of the Sky. With Silik's takeover of the enterprise, the acting is great. You really feel that if any of the Enterprise's crew mess up here, they all could die. Then, we cut back to Silik trying to contact shadow future guy, who is just gone, obviously because the future is dead. The scene where the Suliban are torturing T'Pol was also excellent, the camera not staying still or focussing on anything is a simple cinematic trick, but an effective one. I liked seeing Trip flex his engineering skills by establishing a secret comms system across Enterprise.

Meanwhile in the future, Archer poses an important question: How is Daniels still here if his future and everything in it is gone. Daniels doesn't have an answer. Thankfully, a library with books survived, which means we can get a good read (pun not intended) on how the timeline has shifted. The Two of them trying to fashion together a cross-time communication device out of scraps was very Doctor Who, I loved that. It reminded me of the Junkyard TARDIS from The Doctor's Wife. It was also nice to see Daniel's prevent Archer reading about Earth's future. Not only because I don't want to be spoiled for the future, but also because it's good to see him still abide by whatever time laws there are, even at a time like this.

T'Pol being too broken post-torture to effectively answer Archer's time communications was painful. Like with Part 1, the whole cast's skills are being pushed to their limits with building their small resistance against the Suliban occupying the ship. I remember one of the really early episodes mentioned Hoshi gets claustrophobic, so I'm proud of her for managing to complete that vent crawl. The crew faking the engines exploding to get away was genuis, and then Archer exploiting Silik's inability to act without his orders from the future to get his way back to the present was also really good. I had the biggest smile when Archer came through instead of Shadowy-future guy.

Archer's speech to Starfleet command about how Humans need to make mistakes to learn from them, to convince them allow Enterprise's mission to continue was great.

Comparing my Enjoyment of this Episode with a Doctor Who Universe Story of the Same Title

The War Master: Anti-Genesis Part 3: Shockwave

From one Time War to another, The War Master is a Doctor Who radio play Spin-Off. It functions as a pseudo prequel to the 2007 episode "Utopia", and showcases the Derek Jacobi incarnation of the Master, during the Last Great Time and the events leading up the him running away to hide at the end of the Universe as Professor Yana.

Shockwave is the third part of Anti-Genesis the fourth release of the War Master series. I want to focus on shockwave, so I'll keep the key information from the first 2 parts brief. Basically the plot of Anti-Genesis is The Master stepping into the events of the 1975 serial Genesis of the Daleks in an attempt to alter both Dalek and Time Lord history in his own favour. Instead of the Fourth Doctor's failed attempt to prevent the Dalek's creation, we have The Master infiltrating the Kaled science elite and subverting their creation for his own purposes, while being chased down by Coordinator Narvin (My personal favourite Time Lord btw), and that's the set up going into Shockwave.

As it turns out, The Time War era Daleks don't particularly like having their creation subverted towards a Time Lord's interests. So, they decide to fight fire with fire, and bring a version of The Master from a parallel universe into play. Specifically the Mark Gatiss/Sam Kisgart version of the Master from the Unbound Universe. And happy to be escaping his own collapsing universe, he obliges. Despite it being his series, the Derek Jacobi master isn't the focus in Shockwave, this part was supposed to build up the Unbound Master for the two versions of the Character's conflict in the finale of Anti-Genesis.

The Shockwave the title is about is a result of the actions of the Derek Jacobi Master in the previous part's of Anti-Genesis. Specifically the shockwave of effect on the timeline caused by his interference.

It's interesting hearing things from the perspective of the Unbound Master, as the timelines shift around him. When he arrives on Gallifrey, shifts to the timeline have resulted in the Time Lord's civilisation reduced to medieval technology, then a time shockwave hits, and we're back to regular Gallifreyan technology, but with differences. And this is repeated a few times. A few might be a stretch, according to the Daleks, their time ship visited 713 different Gallifreys.

Picking which of the two Shockwaves I liked more is a difficult choice. I'm going to give the Edge to the War Master's version. It definitely had more fun with it's apocalyptic time shenanigans, and The Unbound Master makes a fun villain-protagonist. His attempts to convince the Time Lords that his interests align with them, and not his main universe's counterparts was fun. The War Master's brief appearances, scheming in preparation for the finale of Anti-Genesis were also fun.

Enterprise's Shockwave Part 2 was still really good though, and I'm looking forward to whatever else Season 2 brings

#whovian watching star trek #star trek #star trek enterprise #star trek ent #star trek: enterprise #enterprise #ent

[the-apology-dance]

The Red String Of Fate (A Logicality Soulmate AU)

Logan had been told since he was a child the destiny that every person had and that would come into play sometime in the future. The Red String of Fate. His grandfather would sit down and tell him the tale of Red String he said that “led him around the world to meet his grandmother while on a trip to Europe''. Upon meeting both instantly knew that they had found their missing piece, but then there was Logan.

He was 19 years old and he still hadn’t found anyone that he was interested in. Nothing about any of his previous adventures had led him to the fabled “one and only”. He found it hard to believe that anyone would take a liking to him, not only because they thought he would make a good friend, but also because they believed they clicked like nobody else they knew. Giving a defeated sigh, he looked down at the pinky fingers on his hand and recited the tale his grandfather told him.

“The Gods tie an invisible thread around the little finger of people who are destined to be together and will someday marry the other. It can get twisted, and knotted, but it will never be broken....”

Logan wished that he could inquire with the gods that tied him and ask them for hints about what his soulmate looked like? Did they know he was gay when they established who he is supposed to love for the rest of his life? Dark or light hair? What was their relationship going to be like?

He had so many questions but so few answers.

Logan looked desperately at the sky. He believed he was ready to at least meet them. He wanted-, no. Needed. He needed to see them.

“Salutations-if anyone is even listening to this tangent currently, show me. Please. You, if I am correct about this, tied my string to another who is supposed to be my lifelong companion. So, here I am. I don’t suppose I can seek information from anyone up there. However, if I can, please show me them. I’ve waited patiently for the day to arrive and I believe I am well equipped to encounter them.”

Logan was starting to become disenchanted with the whole situation until as he raised his coffee cup to his lips he felt it. A tug. It was practically microscopic, like a baby kicking for the first time. It wasn’t extremely noticeable, but apparently, someone heard his little tangent.

‘Was that the other person’s movements? Was he close?!’ Logan must look insane to other people at the moment, as he was standing in the middle of a parking lot, staring at his hand in awe.

That was when another male next to him tossed the car keys to what he assumed was his husband from the golden ring on his left hand.

“Babe, it doesn’t hurt to check! Yes, Remy, I will call you if I need any help! I swear the man forgets I am a therapist... Sir, are you okay? You’ve been staring at your hand for the past five minutes.” Logan felt his face heat up and cleared his throat as he composed himself and readjusted his posture.

“Sorry. I felt it. I’m Logan. Logan Berry.” The other adjusted his pink tie and smiled fondly at Logan.

“Emile. Emile Picani. So, you believe in the whole red string thing as well? Remy is my soulmate. We are very different but somehow, it’s still like we are the perfect match. He just so happens to be one of my newer therapy patients and we just hit it off, I guess?” Logan looked at Emile quizzically.

“What was it like? Meeting him. How did you know?” Emile shrugged and shifted his weight to his other leg.

“Well. People fantasize about their soulmate being the perfect fit. That is wrong. Yet it is still what everyone wants. Your true soulmate, Logan, is going to be a mirror of who you are. As a person. It is a meeting of someone of two minds, spirits, and bodies whose strengths, flaws, and weaknesses complement your own. Well, I have to go get back to Remy before he comes looking for me himself. See you around, Logan!”

Logan walked aimlessly through the back streets near the coffee shop. The opportunity to meet someone who contradicted him in every way, but yet still complimented him nicely did sound intriguing. He was jolted out of his thoughts when a big fluffy dog ran towards him and knocked him backward, coffee spilling in a puddle next to him.

“Oh my god, Max! Come here, boy!” A boy in all black ran up to the dog and whistled, getting the dog off Logan. Another voice came from behind him, out of breath.

“Virgil! I told you this would happen! No wonder Princey never lets us walk him!” Virgil gave a sympathetic smile. The dog barked and circled Logan.

“He is still a puppy. I apologize on his behalf. He just gets excited. Patton, I think the dog is malfunctioning.” Max had sat down and fixed his gaze on Logan. A boy walked up the hill and something in Logan clicked.

“Max…Hell-Woah.” Logan smiled and held out his hand, which Patton eagerly shook.

“Patton! Patton Heart. Oh no, your coffee...I’m so sorry!” Logan held up a hand as a motion for Patton to stop apologizing.

“Logan. It’s quite alright, Patton.” Patton smiled and Logan swore the area that surrounded him got brighter. Clearing his throat, he tilted his head.

“Do I know you? Have we met?” Patton asked him first. Logan shook his head and felt a wave of contentment wash over him. Taking his hand gently, he raised it to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

“I assure you I haven’t seen you before. I would remember a face like that.” Patton blushed and let his gaze fall to the ground, stalling at the puddle of coffee that slowly dripped down the road.

“Well. Since Max did, uh, that? How do you feel about grabbing coffee with me?” Logan laughed and nodded. Patton gripped his hand tightly as they walked to the coffee shop not far up the road they were on. Virgil looked down at Max, dumbfounded that this dog drew the two together. Max trotted happily beside Virgil, who pet him gently.

“You're a romantic, just like your dad, aren’t you? God, it is late. Come on, I have my soulmate to get back to. He’s gonna be so proud of you. Like father, like son. Or dog in your case.”

#logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #soulmate au #sanders sides fanfiction #one shot #tooth rotting fluff #sanders sides #emile picani #remy sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders