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crystaldivination · 9 months

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"𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒"

› 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 ＆ 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧. 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ‹

𝆩 pick a cards 𝆩 paid services 𝆩 leave a tip

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝟏, 𝟐, 𝟑,

𝟒, 𝟓, 𝟔

Hello lovelies, it’s been a while. I wanted to put in some effort and provide you guys with a good content that longer is than usual so I came up with this pick a card reading based on one of my paid services option that you can also purchase for a minimum price. I hope y'all like this and would love to hear what you think about it. Enjoy and I’m sending you lots of love your way! 🤎

ℒ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟐𝟑𝟑 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ℒ

— "the power of divine connection and a sign from the heavens that our inner wisdom can help us find our soulmate" —

— "love and your connection with someone is about to change for the better" —

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞? As always meditate or close your eyes before looking at each picture. Trust your intuition and pick out a picture you feel the most drawn to.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: this is a general reading which may or may not resonate with you. Take what resonates and leave out anything that doesn't. Feel free to choose another pile if you'd like.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏 — 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 & 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

How do I not think about you? I long for you. Is this what being in love feels like? I smile even though you’re not mine. It’s already late but I’m still looking at the ceiling, tossing and turning endlessly. I’m lying on my bed hugging someone’s smile feeling so restless until the morning. Can you see how foolishly I’m holding my face while smiling wide? Each night I’m dreaming of standing next to you in the pink spring sun. Time passes by quickly that I don’t even notice and brings me sorrow and nostalgia. I called your name softly, painted my own hope. A stream of emotions rushed inside me by the time I realized that I’m in love with you. I had to do something about it, don’t you think? But instead I’m still keeping it to myself as I have no one to share with. Insecurities are filling me up as to how you’d think of me and see me after you know. It’s sad but kind of funny. You know the stars in the sky are my only friends who listened to me babbling about a first love as beautiful as a dream. I don’t usually write but for the first time I’m finding myself fantasizing about writing you poems to confess my love for you. My feelings are overflowing for you that I even forget my hunger at the thought of you. I’m singing alone like a fool.

Can I hold your soft hands for once? I imagine about your rare eyes that are shining so brightly and looking up at me. Just thinking about this makes my heart beat so fast as if it’d explode. Turns out when we love someone even if it’s a one-sided love, even if I can’t let go, I still find myself laughing and smiling at 3 am. Just hug me, please hug me. Hug me in my dreams. Just that only already makes me crazy happy like you’re right beside me. My body is burning up for you, because of you. Like a fever how it seems like I'm with you. I’m about to write you some sweet verses and want you to name it. How would you name me too? I want you to call me names. Missing you, wanting you so much right now. Like crazy, what to do now? You keep making me go crazy. I can’t concentrate, my mind keeps wandering elsewhere. I’m always elsewhere. How much is it enough to be lonely filled with thoughts? Me stupidly loving you on my own, loving you to the point of not caring how much time and how many days have passed.

Love your eyes, love your lips and here I’m still denying it. My shy heart unreliably continues to beat the wrong heartbeats. More and more each day. My love for you grows each day. Want to hold those hands once. I’m letting myself immersing and getting lost in each soft and soothing verses describing you. Even the stars can understand how in love I am with you. You’re as beautiful as an angel. As if you’re an angel. My angel. If only…if only… What can I do? Please tell me. All these delusions and hallucinations are making me high. I’m love sick with you. Touch me, love me, kiss me if you can. Do anything to me just don’t do nothing. I’m tired of not having you but I can’t stop my greediness. Please look at me. Do you even notice me? Is this love? Can this be love? Who am I to not give in… You’re making me feel this type of way just for it to be nothing at the end. The more hurt I am, the more I want you though. My insatiable thirst for you tortures me. Please be mine. I’m here waiting for you.

Channeled songs:

• Like Crazy (English Version) — Jimin

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. Plagiarism in any form is prohibited. Any illegal attempt to violate these terms will result in immediate legal action.

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𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

I should’ve known better. Can’t even pretend like I don’t want it again. You’re on my brain all the time. Thinking about what all we could do. You did something to me 'cause this doesn’t happen too often. Something that makes me look at you too often. And baby you can give it something. My heart, my mind and my body is saying…my mind and my body is saying…my mind and my heart is saying… I don’t know what it is. I can’t tell you what it is but you got me going crazy. I’m talking crazy. I need you right now. It’s the way that your body moves, your hands touch, your lips look, your gazes hypnotize me. Love me nice and slow baby. I want to feel all the love you’ve got for me. You make me wanna replay all of the things that you and I, we do. Baby come through my phone. Tell me how much you miss me, how much you want me and I’ll make it come true. Put it down on me. Look at what you make me wanna do. Drop everything and everyone for you. Got my feeling running on the loose, wild. This ain’t what I’m really used to but I like it. If it’s you I’m all yours. I’m all in.

Let me pull out this car for you. Let us go on a race but let’s make it long and slow. Are you ready for this marathon baby? Let me hear you say "pull it". Are you waiting to get some more? I want to hear it. Beg me, lovely cupcake. I want to see you on a whim. Can I see that look on your face? The one that would say "chase me". How you wanna play this, baby? Baby you can ride all the time. I want to be in trouble, how about you? Promise me you don’t trip cause I want it to last forever. Show me how good of a troublemaker you can be, baby. I think too often about you baby, let’s cuddle up afterwards. Tell me about your day while I softly kiss your neck. Truly love you, do you know how much I love you? It’s not just the s*x and how our body move together and collide. Just know that I’m serious with you. I still remember the moment you lit up in a smile or those moments when you show signs of jealousy. I will remember them forever until I’m still with you and beside you. Even if we’re apart my heart is still yearning and waiting for you. Your love changed me, calling and waking up my peace. I’m missing you. Funny just how many stories can be made out from us for all that we’ve experienced and those nights hoping for you, dreaming about you.

I don’t need much in life. Just need you to understand me and know that I always and will always love you because in me there is only you. You’re my only reason. Saving you thousands of heartfelt lyrics and poems. I would give you all the sunrays and cool breezes you need. You’ve awoken me, the glow in me so i’m trying to be an inspiration to you, your kind of inspiration. I will help you find a passion that’s more beautiful than that I have for you in my dream. Forget all those worries because I’ll be there and follow you like a shadow wanting to guide your steps on a long path with only us two. I wanna be in your arms. I think I’m under your spell cause every time I’m near you my heart starts to roll, I always want more. You’re my heaven and my hell but I won’t deny, I won’t be scared. We can head deeper, seeing what there is more to know. I won’t hear or see anything else other than your heartbeats next to mine. There’s no forgetting you. I won’t quit you, I can’t and I’m not gonna regret it. Lay me down, bare me naked. You can take away my heart. Feel my burning desire in me for you. You make me want to risk it all for you and I’ve made up my mind. I’m gonna take that risk and risk it all for you my baby.

Channeled songs:

• Quit (ft. Ariana Grande) — Cashmere Cat

PS. I literally heard this whole song while channeling their messages so I decided to include specific fragments of it in the reading. The song could be in some way significant for them/for you and/or for your connection whether this be a display of their current energy (for you) or the dynamic between you both OR it could just be that what they wanted to say match these lyrics a little too well 🤷🏻‍♀️

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𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑 — 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

I do whatever you say. Do whatever you want me to. Baby I'm okay. You can break my heart in two. If your heart has been broken before, let me put it back for you. Look into my eyes, open up your mind. I won’t tell a lie, I won't make you cry. I won’t be someone to make you worry each night. You don’t have to stay up at night waiting for me 'cause I won’t come home late to you. Won't you hold my hand? It never felt so right for me. I need you here tonight. Whisper sweet nothings into my ear while I make you feel so good like you’re on cloud nine. I will take you to heaven. Won’t you answer me? It doesn’t really matter because I got plans to get to know you better. Baby let's make what we got here last forever 'cause I don't wanna let you go, never. Dearest darling I just wanna be the one to do you right. We're standing here looking at each other, baby, eye to eye. Baby, I hope that you're thinking about giving me a chance with you tonight. You know how to do it so well that I don't know if I could ever get enough.

You belong with me. We belong to each other. Every place you go, I’ll follow. I’d be there. Can you trust me? Whenever there’s a shadow in your heart I’ll talk to you before your heart sinks. When it appears I’ll come running to you. I told you I’ll be your rescue. I’ll come to your rescue. When your heart feels heavy I’ll lift it up for you. We don’t need to do anything. Let’s just not do anything. If you change your mind I’ll grab onto your waist. I will hold you tight enough for you not to be able to slip away. I want to embrace you and let you feel love. And if you’re okay with it I’ll kiss you hard and soak in your scent. I wanna fall asleep drenched with your warmth and softness. Wrap your head around my neck. I’ll hold your mind so you won’t have bad dreams. I’ll hold your body so you won’t think of anything else. When you lean onto me I can feel the cool breeze of yours blew over me. A beautiful melody passes through my ears. Morning with you…it’ll be beautiful. Just like magic how your body feels on mine.

The way you love is one of a kind. Your love is healing. I feel safe with you and you make me come every time. I’ll pat your head and kiss your forehead like aftercare. You’re the only person I ever think about, nobody else compares. I want to get to know every side of you. I’m going to sit at the table and dream. Just like this again. I want the night to come earlier. You make my days better. I want you to give me more once again. So I hope you’ll come into my arms again. What words can I use to describe you? My heart is too deep. Can you come inside my mind? Will I be able to rise in your heart? I live through you. I’ll hold your heart. I can be a safe haven, an anchor for you to feel secured and stable. I’ll ease your mind and make you feel good all the time. I’ll wait until the moment you say "I feel the same way as you". I’ll be your song. Or a reassurance. Anytime in your ears. It will stay until you fall asleep. Until I can see you telling me with a smile that you feel the same way…until then.

Channeled songs:

• Adore (ft. Ariana Grande) — Cashmere Cat

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𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟒 — 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Is it already too late? I can’t stop myself from losing you. Tell me if you still want me and if you still need me. If only I didn't let go of your hand… If only you didn’t waver and I didn’t let myself waver from all the unimportant outside noises that came in between us. If only we didn’t run away at that time, what could’ve been out of us now?… If only we didn’t hide our weaknesses that we didn’t want the other to see. If we were brave enough to show what we didn’t ask each other. If only we didn’t keep it in us, keep it to ourselves. Would something have changed if we locked lips and kiss passionately just like the first time? If only at that time we didn't act like we were okay. If only we haven’t tried to fight it and didn’t pretend like everything didn't hurt as if our love ain't worth the risk… If only the world wasn't so evil to us, didn't let us be weak because we were too used to being on guard and bear with everything. The cuts have not healed but we pretended to be strong, no longer knew how to cry. And if only I wasn't so paranoid that one day you would disappear. If only I weren't hung up on the fact… If only you had proven to me that I was the only one. If only you would show me that I was the only one for you and if only I trusted you, you trusted me, we trusted each other then would you still be by my sidе? Would we still be together? Still laugh when we hear and see each other's names? Then would we still be madly in love, madly love like the first day we come to each other? Like the first day we fell in love, like the first day we were together?

Nights when I laid awake to pray, when you were all I’m thinking of. Days when I promised that whatever happens, I will still love you. I promised you no matter what may happen, I’ll love you. If that were true, would we still be in love? If only at that time we didn't let go of each other's hands… I’m thinking about if only at that time we didn't run away and if only at that time we weren't like that. Maybe, maybe... If I didn’t let you go. If only you and I had stayed. If only we didn't go that way… But maybe everything had to happen like that so I could learn to love myself. It’s time I have to admit that I have always been lying to my heart. Because if you wanted to, you would, but you didn't. It’s time for me to realize that I’ve been lying to myself 'cause it was easy to see but you were running from me. I hate the way I made excuses for every time you were so heartless. I hate the way I defended you every time you were so thoughtless. I hate the way I always said I was ok when I was lonely. I hate that I acted like that. I hate the way I felt humiliated and drown in self-pity. Hate cruel public opinions, hate thinking about you so much. I hate how I kept thinking about you too often. Hate to keep silent, pretending like I don't care.

But I still feel bad, cause it’s not just you. I’ve also made mistakes many times too, please forgive me. You and I we both know, we were not perfect. I didn’t want to let you down. You know I'll never be perfect. I never want to see you hurting. Promised you things that are now just a fantasy, a dream, forgive me. Promises I couldn’t keep, forgive me. Had to walk away to heal myself, forgive me. Forgive me for shutting you out so I could hold me. Found a new love and I hope you’ll forgive me. Forgive me for allowing myself to receive a new love and taking care of myself. Learn how to take responsibility for my own emotions, forgive me. Appreciate all the things that I have, all that I have now, forgive me. I hope you can do that too. So that one day we can see each other again, go back to each other. So that one day we can come back to each other again, smile at each other when we meet eyes even if we are no longer madly in love like the first day we were together. But we can get to know each other again like from the start. No more fears or doubts like before. Maybe one day you’ll hold me tight. Maybe one day we’ll do it right. How do you feel?… about it? What do you think?… about it? How do you like it?…

I hope we can meet again. We’re bound to meet again. That’s what I think. Love is pain, love is forgiveness. Love is an experience, a journey and I hope there’s a silver lining to ours as well. I’m still with you…

Channeled songs:

• Lose you to love me — Selena Gomez • Back to you — Selena Gomez

PS. These songs can describe the dynamic & feelings of both parties towards each other so the songs can be relevant for both of you

Side note: I got told that the messages for this pile match a song called © "neu luc do" by tlinh. I didn’t know of it until now but that’s what I heard while channeling the respective messages. Since this pac is based on songs anyway, just like pile 2 where I heard one whole song and included fragments of it in the readings as they seem to be important and really specific based on it, here it could also be that the subject of these messages identifies with the song hence I picked up these "lyrics" from their mind. I didn’t and don’t at all intend to steal anybody’s work!

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𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟓 — 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Didn't say a word but I seem to know what you want. Just tell me, if it's not a miss, I might accidentally also like it. Don't look at me as if it’s something new like the first time when everywhere in this body you’re already used to. If you’ve already forgotten then I have an idea… what about we get to know each other again so you can get used to it again? I like your vibe, you know I’m a fan. I like your style and what you wear. I bet you’d look good even in mine but i don't like them on you or me tonight. I might like it better if I can trace your line and paint your silhouette on me. So you don’t need your clothes on anymore. I want to take a look inside you. Let’s strip them clothes down for me. I don’t need any clothes on let’s just strip them down together. We don’t need them clothes at all, our bodies intertwine together would be enough. I won’t let you wait, let’s take off our clothes. No need for anyone to wear anything tonight. You might keep on that thong when we get passionate and so in love. If you like that babe, that thong can stay. Promise you can have access to every inch of me, darling. Show me devotion when we devote oneself to each other. You know you always get my special treatment.

You keep me so connected to you darling. One touch of me can give you the answers to all your questions. Don’t let anything get in between us 'cause this is what we’ve been waiting for so long. I’m gonna treat you right. Open up your mouth when I put my lips on you. Kiss me deeply while I savor every taste of yours. We can be reckless, restless until the morning. No way it’s too much for me. Wanna make you cry for me. Darling, cry for me. You know you turn me on like no one does. I know you like to show so shine for me. Darling you’re my main character. My absolute no. 1 private dancer. No one gets to finish when both are so stubborn. You know me and I know you. How come I met someone like you? You’re a keeper, a good catch and everything I’m looking for. For you I won’t bottle things up. For you I want to be honest. You deep down know we are made for each other, right? I want to make your heart smile. To have you is like to have the stars. You’re absolutely beautiful and adorable. You shine like the moon at night. You shine on me with empathy and care. I’m never alone with you.

I know you’re rare and precious that’s why I want to love you right. You know by time you should be in my arms right now. I’ll hold you like I can’t let go. I’ll keep you safe and sound. Treat you soft and gently. To love and be with you is like to dance with the stars. Do you want to fly away with me where it’s only us two? My treasure, with you I am me. Call me and say my name so I can make you my baby and show you real love. I’mma show you how to love. It feels like I’m seeing fireworks for the first time when I see you. Your body speaks to me, I can’t hide it. I’ll go down on you and take you places. Turn off the light. Tell me babe how you want it, you decide. Darling get ready 'cause you won’t be disappointed.

Don’t you know that You and I are the infinite symbol that equals forever? Turn it around and forever has the same meaning as you’re the love of my life.

Channeled songs:

• Energy — BURNS, A$AP Rocky & Sabrina Claudio

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𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟔 — 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬

♥︎ ♥︎

ℒ book the same reading as 'Soul calling' for 4€ from my enchanted door ⊂🍸⊃

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Do you see the temperature increasing? Heart beats faster because you walk in. My ribcage increases and my lips are shaking. This body doesn’t seem like me whenever near you. When you touch my skin lightly, that feeling, no one can do that. No one can compare, I hope you know that. It must be that scent, must be that shoulder and those contacts. Oh am I not the luckiest? No need to say much I think you know. If you want to be pampered, i’ma make it work for you. Lightly tinged the room with the color of love. I want you to hold me tight and don't let me go. Love me right. You make me feel so high. You are only allowed to be like this with me alone. I’m losing myself in this moment with you. No in every moment with you. I will take you all the way to Cali. Maybe you can call me daddy/mommy/yours. Come to me. With me here there’s nothing you have to be worried about. (beep beep beep) do you hear the sound of my temperature rising? (trip trip trip) my hands are tighter again.

Hypocrite I know, I pretend to be indifferent but do you know that under all the masks that I’m wearing to hide my true self, I act wild and crazy for you? I’m freaking out but I like how you make me freak out. I like the feeling how you can make me act out of my usual self. Let’s forget about all our characters and drop all the manners. Just say how you want it sweetheart, I can take you there. Let me show you how my body yearns for you. I want to do this only to you. We can be freaky, kinky and nasty, whatever you like. Foreplay with you, there is really no way around it. One of my utmost favourite things to do might be to fill you up to the brim. You do things to me that I never imagined. I wanna show you how I get down. I’ll kiss every inch of you and run my hands up and down your entire body. Do you want to feel it? I know you want me and so do I. I might as well steal you from you. Get down with me. I just want to steal your heart and sneak an arm around your waist and claim you as mine. You’re my simple pleasure, just like the breeze on my face or the fragrance of flowers. Tell me if i ever cross your mind then I’ll tell you how I want us to be each other’s guilty pleasure everyday. Sweetheart you got the sweetest heart I’ve ever seen or felt before. Keep your lips tight only for me. I know you like to dream so let’s make our dream a beautiful place where we pour out our intimacy for each other and slowly reveal a little bit of our heart’s desire and secrets to each other. I’m totally enamoured by you.

You’re so delicate. I want to love all of you. I want to be your protector. I want to take care of you. My heart longs for a beautiful soul like you. There is telepathy between our hearts. I only want to make you smile and laugh all the time because then I’ll be happy when you’re happy. I want to mold myself into you. I want our souls to be one. I will look you in the eyes and make you feel seen for who you’re meant to be. Like for the first time I will make you feel like everything is alright. I can be that soothing energy you’re looking for. I want to give you all of me. You’re my remedy. I couldn’t ask for more. I feel your energy with me often. My world is being shaken up by you. Do you want me the way I want you? I want to declare my love for you. You know the saying "There will be a day when we meet our own version on someone else" and I think I’ve found me in you. My desire is you and only you. From the bottom of my heart, i want you to know that you are the one i have been waiting for, the missing piece that completes my soul. You know how to make me fall for you just like that. I want to love you for who you are. I will do that because that’s how I love myself and accept my flaws so I can give you the same thing as well. I will learn how to love you wholeheartedly. I’ll understand all of your flaws. Will you let me in? You’re special. If you’re going through some rough patches just know that experiencing things that you don't want makes you clear about what you do want so keep going. I’m here cheering you on.

Channeled songs:

• Honesty — Pink Sweat$

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wqnwoos · 10 months

Text

falling in love with jihoon is probably the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

he had told you once, right at the beginning of your relationship, that he wasn’t good with expressing his feelings. that he might accidentally make you feel unwelcome, or he might make you feel like a burden. slightly daunted but determined nevertheless, you told him you didn’t mind, and you wouldn’t mind.

and you haven’t minded. because being loved by jihoon is probably the second easiest thing you’ve ever done. he was right when he said he might not say it much, but he says it enough, and he shows it much more than that. he’d been afraid you wouldn’t feel it, but you felt it more than anything.

the first time you felt it, jihoon was being vulnerable. pillow talk: the two of you close on the bed, but not quite touching; staring up at the ceiling; filling the dark room with soft murmurs.

“falling in love is scary,” he had said softly. “it’s like — like sky-diving. or free-falling. and hoping to everything good and holy that your parachute is working, because —”

“because you don’t get to check it beforehand,” you had finished, even softer.

there’s a short pause, like he’d just realised that you were also scared shitless. “yeah,” he agrees finally, words sounding lighter already.

another pause, before you slip your hand into his, threading your fingers together. “so.” you roll over to face him, brushing his cheek with your free hand. “how’s your parachute?”

jihoon kisses your hand when it passes over his lips, smiling just barely. “i’d say it’s working.”

and you haven’t doubted his love since then. sure, you’ve come close, when the two of you were in your worst moments, but then he’d do something or say something, and you’d realise quickly that the two of you were always going to be okay.

it was written quietly — in the footnotes of everything he said. “how was your day?” (i hope it was good.) “did you eat yet?” (i love you. i want us both to eat well.) “i got this for you. don’t say no.” (i see you in everything.)

it comes down to one conclusion, that you summed up late one night, looking at his sleeping features. that his feelings are so strong he doesn’t have to say them. you feel them anyway.

an / i wrote something FINALLY. i think this is the result of reading too many poems this summer. anyway. requested by the lovely lovely @eoieopda.

#woozi x reader #jihoon fluff #jihoon x reader #jihoon comfort #woozi comfort #woozi fluff #woozi fic #jihoon fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader

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daysofyellowroses · 2 months

Text

cherry

carmen berzatto x reader | 2.2k | 18+ minors dni | tw: smut, more smut & tooth-rotting cuteness

prompt was: Carmy doing something mad cheesy and cute for his girl on v-day like he tells her that he has to work on valentines just to surprise her with a super romantic evening like you get home and there’s nice music playing there’s heart confetti in the entry way leading to the dining room and a huge bouquet of roses and a cute teddy bear is on the table and he’s in the kitchen finishing up something looking straight out of a Michelin star menu and he’s like “ oh I bought you new comfy clothes and I got your favorite movie ready for us “ and there’s candles and champagne and you’re just over the moon happy bc he would just do it for his girl bc he wants her to be happy and feel loved and not just bc he wants his dick wet (even though I mean after all the effort he’s ofc getting a big reward) but I could see him totally not even caring about the sexual part and just wanting to worship his girl that day and appreciate how much love they share - as requested by the very lovely and extremely talented @thecapricunt1616 if you don't go check out their work then..you are missing out, go read the bear & his honey it is phenomenal 🌼

this is a valentine's themed story, and i may not be posting it on actual valentine's day but i am posting it on galentine's day which is, frankly, the superior day anyway 🌼

🐻

As much as you didn't really care about Valentine's Day, part of you was still a little disappointed when Carmy told you that he'd put himself down to work a late shift, having forgotten what day it would be. Nobody could swap with him and you accepted that it would just be a regular day.

It wasn't like you and Carm never had dates or didn't do romantic things for each other but..it would have been nice to spend the evening together, even just relaxing on the couch.

From the moment you woke up on the 14th, there was seemingly no escape from the fact that it was Valentine's Day. Every song on the radio was a love song, social media was already flooded with endless posts of love heart pancakes, it was a little much.

Then there was work. At first it was a little cute, the management had arranged for everyone to get a little rose, and there were a couple of boxes of fancy chocolates in the break room. But then there was a seemingly unending stream of couriers dropping off huge bouquets of flowers, giant teddies, endless cards. You were sure some of them had been sent by the recipients anyway, rolling your eyes as yet another excited shriek sounded.

It wasn't that you were jealous, it would actually be pretty mortifying to have to stand there while some random guy belted out a song or recited a horribly cheesy poem at you. It was more of a reminder that you were just having a normal day, you wouldn't get to go home and spend the evening with your boyfriend, feel immense love and happiness.

At the end of the day, you could barely breathe in the elevator, cramped in at the back, surrounded by teddies and flowers, the scent overwhelming. You looked up to the ceiling, taking a deep breath and trying to tune out the chatter happening around you.

‘We actually got reservations at Ever’

‘We're spending the night at the Peninsula’

‘I definitely think he's gonna propose, I found a Tiffany brochure in the nightstand’

When you got to your car, you took a moment to enjoy the silence once you sat in before hooking your phone up to the speaker and blasting your least romantic playlist.

You stopped off at the nearest supermarket on the way home, picking up a bottle of wine, a frozen pizza and some already half-off heart shaped candies by the cash register. There were at least three men ahead of you in the line, all frantically checking their watches as they clutched slightly wilted bouquets and expensive cards.

By the time you got home all you wanted to do was sink into the bath with your bottle of wine, and forget about the day. You took your phone out as you left the car, sending a quick message to Carmy as you made your way into the building.

‘Hey babe, hope work is going okay. Love you ❤️’

You tucked your phone into your pocket before reaching into your bag for your keys, jostling the grocery bag in your other arm.

As soon as you opened the door you could sense something was happening, raising a brow as you heard music playing. The lights were on, dimmed low. You closed the door, looking down at the ground and turning slowly.

There were rose petals strewn across the floor in the shape of a heart, with more loose petals leading down to the living room. You smiled to yourself, biting your lip as you shook your head. Either you had a boyfriend who'd told you a white lie or a very romantic burglar had broken in.

You set the grocery bag down in the hall, taking off your coat and hanging it up before walking into the living room. You couldn't help but laugh with joy, placing your hand over your mouth as you found the biggest bouquet of roses you'd ever seen sitting on the middle of the coffee table.

Sitting on the couch was a stupidly large teddy bear, wearing Carm's beef t-shirt that was more often worn by you anyway. You walked over to the couch, smiling as you touched the teddy's soft head. You looked over your shoulder as you heard a familiar voice, finding your boyfriend leaning against the doorway, his sleeves rolled up and a dish towel over his shoulder.

“Hey,” You grinned. “could've sworn you said you had to work tonight.”

“Well..about that,” Carm grinned, holding out his hand. “there's a chance I was lying.”

“Just a slim chance, is it?” You raised a brow with a smile, stepping closer and taking Carm's hand before he gently dragged you into the kitchen.

“So slim,” Carmy nodded, pulling you in for a kiss before you pulled back and took in the sight of the kitchen. The lights were dimmed low, candles dotted about on the counter and the table, a bottle of wine you knew was super expensive and two glasses waiting.

“Hope you don't mind.”

“I suppose I can forgive you,” You murmured softly, unable to stop smiling as you looked back at your boyfriend. “just this once. This is all..incredible, I can't believe you've done this.”

“I can be romantic when I want to be.” Carm winked at you, walking to the oven and slowly opening it.

You took a deep breath as you took everything in, your hand over your heart.

You wanted to tell Carm that he was always romantic, even when he didn't think he was. Like when he would bring home a dessert for you, when he would let you steal his clothes, dance with you in the kitchen after a long day, spend whole days wrapped around you when you just needed him to be there and couldn't go anywhere.

You wanted to tell him he didn't need to do so much, but..you loved that he did. Yes, it was a slightly ridiculous made up day that had driven you crazy but when it was Carm making such an effort to treat you..it felt important and real.

“Oh, before I forget,”

You snapped out of your thoughts as you heard Carm's voice, looking over to him.

“I know you said you didn't need it but..I got you that hoodie you wanted,” He smiled. “with the..letters and all that. It's in the bedroom.”

“I don't know what to say,” You smiled, tears starting to well in your eyes. “I..”

“Then don't say anything,” Carm shrugged with a grin. “Just enjoy.”

“That I can do.” You nodded, stepping closer to give him a kiss before heading to the bedroom, your heart achingly full.

Sitting on the floor by your bed was a pink gift bag, red tissue paper with white hearts placed on the top of it. You pictured Carm carefully arranging the paper, wanting it to be perfect.

You went to the bag, carefully moving the tissue paper and reaching inside it to pull out a ridiculously soft hoodie, tears starting to spill from your eyes. You had mentioned, weeks back, when you were laying on the couch with Carm one evening that you had seen a hoodie you liked, lifting your phone to show him. He'd asked if you were going to buy it and you said you'd think about, but it was a little too expensive.

And suddenly there it was, in your hands. You carefully laid it on the bed before going for a shower, laughing to yourself when you thought about how lucky you were, barely able to believe it. After your shower you put on your new hoodie, letting out a relaxed sigh at how soft it felt.

Once you were ready you went to the kitchen, just in time for Carm to hand you a plate and a glass of wine.

“It's just pasta,” He smiled, kissing your cheek. “Come on, I got the movie ready to go.”

You looked down to your plate, raising a brow. In theory it was just pasta, in reality it was a work of art.

“This is too beautiful to eat,” You grinned, looking over to Carm as he got his own plate. “But I'm willing to ignore that.”

As you walked into the living room, you laughed softly as you saw what was waiting on the screen, looking over to Carm.

“We don't have to watch it again.”

“I know, but we will,” He grinned. “It's your favorite.”

“You're my favorite, you softy.” You smiled, sitting down on the couch beside the teddy and resting your plate on your lap. Carm went to sit beside you, picking up the teddy and carefully setting it aside.

“Sorry buddy, she's all mine.”

After the most perfect dinner, you laid down on the couch, your head in Carm's lap as he trailed his fingers along your arm.

“I love you,” You murmured softly, turning to look up at your boyfriend. “kinda feels like I should tell you, getting that vibe today.”

“That's so funny, I got the same vibe,” Carm grinned, moving his hand to touch your cheek gently. “I love you too. So much.”

You sat up, gently touching Carm's cheek as you leaned in for a kiss, your heart swelling as you felt him smile against your lips.

After a while you found yourself sitting in Carm's lap, your hands gently moving through his hair, his hands under your hoodie and gently stroking your waist.

It was slow and intimate and perfect, but you could feel a growing need for more.

As if he could sense your rising desire, Carm pulled back and smiled as he touched your cheek, his eyes focused on you.

“We don't..we don't have to do anything, if you're not in the mood,” He murmured softly. “I'm having the time of my life just being in the same room as you.”

You could have cried. Cried because you knew he truly meant it. He never did anything for you because he expected something in return, never made you feel like you owed him something. Even on a day that basically forced couples into bed, you knew he wouldn't be upset or push you if you said no.

“Look at you,” You murmured with a grin, touching Carm's cheek. “you are so perfect it makes me worry that you're actually a psychopath. Luckily you're a chef so I don't have to worry too much about that.”

He laughed and kissed you deeply, your arms winding around his neck.

“I'm serious,” He smiled as he rested his forehead against yours. “just because it's a certain day it doesn't mean we need to do anything.”

“I know,” You grinned, pulling back and moving your hand to gently stroke Carm's hair. “but I would want to be with you no matter what day. And I haven't given you your gift yet.”

“Oh yeah?” Carm raised a brow, unable to hide the grin on his face. “What is it?”

“A surprise of course,” You teased, getting up from the couch, holding your hand out. “come with me and find out.”

He does.

You take him to the bedroom, after a couple of stops for one of you to pull the other in for a kiss.

You tell him to get on the bed, you stand at the end of it.

Despite the slight nerves, you relax when he smiles at you. Your leggings are slowly peeled off, your hoodie pulled away to leave you in a lingerie set that, judging by the way Carm's jaw fell open, was absolutely worth the money.

You give him a full view, turning around in a slow circle before crawling onto the bed and into his lap.

It's quite impressive how speechless he is, taking a moment before he surges forward and kisses you deeply.

His hands are everywhere, fingers digging into you in the most wonderful way. It doesn't take long for marks to bloom on your neck and chest, for you go be laid out on your back, panties tugged aside. He stops you when you go to peel them off, tells you how pretty they make you look .

He takes his time, tongue working you over slowly. You beg for more, he gives you more. His fingers stretch you so perfectly it's almost enough but not quite.

You see stars, breath catching in your throat as you cry out. He moves on top of you, you pull him in to taste yourself.

He's pushed onto his back, you graze your nails over his jeans, tell him to take it all off, slowly. He obliges, a deeper hunger growing in you as he reveals himself to you. Every time feels like the first time, fills you with desire.

Your hand grips his wrist as he goes to take off his shorts, you tell him you got it. His hand moves into your hair as you taste him, endless praise spills from his lips.

Your hands grip the sheets, your back arched as you moan louder than you ever thought possible. His hand moves along your back, his touch firm but full of love.

You lay side by side, hands reaching out to touch each other as your heads turn and eyes meet.

There are no words, but you both know what they are.

After a while you slip your hoodie back on, give Carm a wink as you leave the room.

As you sit between Carm's legs, his arms wrapped firmly around you as you look back and feed him a half-off chocolate, you think maybe this Valentine's Day thing isn't so bad after all.

#the bear #the bear 🐻#the bear fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #valentine's day

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kata4a · 3 months

Text

saw this post referenced recently and I've been having some thoughts about it

of course I really like the conceit here, and afaict I have one of the most expansive conceptions of "art" in my milieu. so of course I think that painted-over glow-in-the-dark stars in your airbnb can be art, I love this

but op actually doesn't call the thing "art," they call it a "poem," and that's really interesting!

a part of me wants to be critical of this, like, the aspects of poetry that I really like are sonic and verbal and just as much about presentation as they are about content, and I do believe you could take this idea and make a really good poem about it

and this part of me wants to say like, this is emblematic of exactly the things I dislike about much contemporary poetry, where there is I feel very little attention actually given to presentation, to the sound and rhythm and structure of the words themselves, where those things are neglected in favor of directness and cheap emotivity

buuuuut

at the same time I can't deny that there's something really compelling about calling this experience a poem, specifically. it's a metaphor, it draws attention to specific features of the thing that wouldn't be captured by using the more general word "art" and in doing so reveals some things about the way op thinks about poetry. in a word, it's poetic

and I do believe that there are interesting, valuable things about this contemporary idea of poetry, which treats a poem not as an intentional linguistic craft but as something more epigrammatic, juxtapositional

I want to draw a comparison to photography, which I think can be used in a similar way: drawing attention to specific visual features of an object or scene without being distracted by the crafts of expressive or realist painting (both of which can often obscure more than reveal the object being presented)

as op says: the themes are already there. what they want to present is context, is juxtaposition: an airbnb, a ceiling that's been painted over, a missed star. a photograph's lush visual detail would drown out the idea; a ballad's rhythm and imagery would distract from it

you can and I even think should make beautiful things out of ideas like this. but the idea itself is already beautiful, and there's a real artistic craft to noticing that, and presenting it without ornamentation. just, "look at this beautiful thing."

#babbling #art and media criticism

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fizzyginfizz · 1 year

Text

Not Flirting At All

Happy Birthday @ginnyw-potter !!!!! Here's some fluff for your Fluff O'Clock Challenge!

He’d tell himself later it wasn’t flirting.

She had a boyfriend.

His mate Dean.

Wanker.

He’d tell himself he was just distracting his overworked, exhausted teammate during her OWL year.

She had circles under her eyes.

His best friend’s sister.

“Alright,” Harry said, reaching over and taking Ginny’s spare quill out from behind her ear. He didn’t mean to, but his finger brushed against the strand of hair that had escaped the twist in the back.

His hand flexed. He would think about how silky it had felt later. Trying to salvage the moment, he lifted a piece of her parchment from in front of her and dipped his quill into her ink. “Fair warning, I’m not as good at this as you.”

“Good at what? What are you talking about?”

“Poetry,” he scoffed. “What did you think I meant?”

“Uh, well, so many things to choose from,” Ginny mused, happily putting aside her work in favor of her preferred activity, verbal one-upmanship with a side of snark. “Quidditch, baking, pranking, hexing.”

“I’m good at hexing.”

“You’re good at dueling,” Ginny grinned. “There’s a difference.”

“Alright, game on.” He returned her grin, before snapping back to his game face. “I am going to prove I’m a better poet than you.”

A burst of a laugh escaped Ginny’s throat, husky and strong. “Not too difficult. I don’t think anyone would have called any nonsense I pen ‘good.’”

Her laugh made him want to grin again, but OWL-distracting banter was on the menu, so he shrugged instead. “Please. Stop fishing for compliments.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Oh, yes you were. As if anyone could deny the brilliance of getting their eyes compared to fresh pickled toads.”

Ginny sighed and stared up at the ceiling. “You remembered.”

“Of course I remember,” he replied, eyes still on paper. Then, he frowned, stared at her a moment, and began to write. “Her hair flames as bright as a fire crab’s bum-“

Ginny giggled and Harry’s gaze shot up from his parchment at the rare sound. Ginny Weasley laughed, Ginny Weasley chuckled, Ginny Weasley threw back her head in unabashed joy. He didn’t know whether he had ever heard her giggle.

He wanted to hear it again. “Or, should it be arse, instead of bum? ‘Her hair flames as bright as a fire crab’s arse’?”

“Are you asking me the connotative differences between arse and bum?”

“Well,” Harry shrugged. “It’s my first poem. Bum sounds like something you sit on, but arse somehow sounds flamier.”

“Also bigger, though.” She giggled again, and Harry felt like he’d won the Quidditch cup.

“Hmmm… hadn’t thought about that. You’re right. Her hair flames as bright as a fire crab’s bum.”

She leaned over to watch the words on his parchment. Her freckled nose all crinkled up in the most adorable way, her brown eyes were… the words came out of his mouth while his quill hovered over the page. “Her eyes are like melted milk chocolate.”

“Oh no,” Ginny shook her head in mock sadness. “I think you may have rhymed yourself into a corner there.”

“Oh ye of little faith.”

“Alright,” she sighed. “If you insist. I do appreciate you not picking something like mud or poo.”

“Well, I think toilet humor is overrated and there’s already something about an arse in here.”

“Bum.”

“Whatever.” He grinned at her. “You going to keep distracting me, or do you want me to finish?”

“Oh,” Ginny sat back with a relaxed smile, crossing her arms. “Sorry to interrupt your art. Do continue.”

Harry had a sudden vision, Ginny Weasley, pajamas. Mugs of steaming morning tea. Slow, “glad you’re awake” kisses.

What did she taste…

Realizing he was staring at her lips, he ripped his gaze away from her mouth. Do not write about her lips.

How soft they looked. How they had a peachy-pink rightness to them that other girls didn’t have.

Focus on something else. Something not sexy.

Except everything about her was sexy.

Except her boyfriend, he reminded himself.

She had a boyfriend.

His mate Dean.

Wanker.

His pen started scratching on the parchment furiously. “She can hurl gnomes, and write silly poems- “

“Silly?” Ginny sat up, offended.

“Did I say ‘silly’?” Harry dipped his quill back in the ink. “I meant ‘brilliant’. She can hurl gnomes, and write brilliant poems-“

“That’s much better,” she grinned. “But now you’re face-to-face with your chocolate rhyme.”

“I can do it,” he narrowed his eyes at her, competitive spirit rising.

“Sure you can,” she said, with a sarcastic eyeroll.

“Chocolate, chocolate,” he muttered, tapping his quill on the parchment. “Chocolate, gnomes, poems-“

“You’re cracking under the pressure.”

“Am not.”

“You’re crumbling.”

“From her friend, who she likes to mock a lot.”

Ginny blinked. “You’re rhyming chocolate with mock a lot?”

“It sort of rhymes.”

“No it doesn’t!” She laughed. “It doesn’t at all.”

“It does if you sort of, y’know, mush your mouth on chocolate, like you’re French, or something.” He made a funny pinching move towards his mouth and was rewarded with another ring of her laughter. “Make that oh really an ‘ooooohhhhhh.’ Choc-o-loooooot.”

“That’s reaching, Harry.”

“Well,” he shrugged, folding up the parchment. “If you don’t want it…”

“No!!!” She sprang up, reached across the table, and snatched the parchment out of his hand. “I want it! I definitely want it.”

She unfolded the parchment and stared at it a moment, her smile softening to something Harry thought was achingly beautiful. Then, she held the parchment to her chest, and grinned at him over the top of it. “Thank you. All my childhood wounds are now healed,” she said with mock self-deprecation.

“My pleasure,” Harry said softly, wishing she had more dragons for him to slay.

OWL-shaped, or otherwise.

#hinny #hinny fanfic #ginnyw potter's fluff o'clock challenge

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icallhimjoey · 2 years

Note

your writing is beautiful and so realistic too. i think that’s what makes you my favourite joseph author. you just stand out with your easy-to-read but pretty style. i also appreciate the fact that you tackle all kinds of stories, from cute to more serious ones, with a touch of humour as well. so yeah bit of a fan (that’s a euphemism) 🤍✨

if that’s alright with you, and if your requests are still open, i would like to indulge myself. i can’t stop thinking about joseph being caught in the middle of a fan mob in london and just getting away from it by stepping into a bookshop/library/coffee shop (owned by our dear reader of course). just a fluffy story about love at first sight (or rather something close to it) 🥹

if your plan was to murder me, you have succeeded my friend. wordcount: 1.7K

----------

Like A Poem

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“Sorry, we’re closed!” You called out when you heard the bell by the door ring as it had opened and closed. You were stood high upon a ladder, leaning against its frame to steady yourself as you restyled shelves on the back wall behind the counter, putting newly released books into place.

“Oh sorry, I was just… looking for a mensroom?” an awkward voice spoke behind you.

You grabbed hold of the wooden slats in front of you before carefully looking down over your shoulder.

Joseph Quinn.

You recognized him instantly, and you could see how he looked slightly panicked as he stepped away from the entrance, pressing himself against the side, almost hiding from street view.

You weren’t sure what to say, but you were instantly aware that if Joe got any closer to you, he could easily see right up your skirt.

“This is a book shop,” you said pointedly, but when you saw a group of girls holding out their phones rush past your store, you softened. You put two and two together quick enough. “But we have one in the back,” you nodded your head towards the narrow hallway that lead into the breakroom that was closed off by a door with a sign that read ‘personnel only’.

Joe looked up at you and just stood there for a second, frozen in space, his face blank and his mouth slightly agape. Gawking. You could feel a blush creep up your neck and you smiled before letting an embarrassing chuckle escape your throat, breaking Joe’s trance.

“Thanks so much,” he managed to say after clearing nothing in his throat and he rushed towards the back. You were sure he’d find the bathroom by himself, the probability of him getting lost was naught in your little tucked away store in a quiet side street.

The only reason you were still in business, you knew, was because your bookstore was the exact opposite of a WHSmith’s. Your darkly stained wooden bookshelves reached all the way up to the high ceilings, not a surface in sight that wasn’t covered in literature. Two big old armchairs that had seen many relaxed, reading bodies stood by the window, facing each other. Quaint. Old-timey. Victorian, if you squinted.

If you weren’t the first choice for people to come to for books, you were at least a great Instagram snap location, a quirky hang out for the quiet girls or even the perfect spot for a first date. So, you’d leant into it and had fully embraced the vibe you knew people were after when visiting a tiny little book shop in central London.

Whilst Joe was in the back, you realized the outdoor A-frame sign was still out front, even though you’d already turned the sign on the door over to closed. You climbed down the ladder and quickly made your way outside to bring it in. You couldn’t help but check both ways down the street for the girls you suspected were after selfies with Joseph. They were gone, and you smiled to yourself, happy to have been of service in his escape.

Stepping back inside, you were struggling your way in past the heavy door, not enough hands or strength to carry the sign and hold the door open at the same time. You could see Joe step out of the breakroom and walk back into the shopfront. When he saw you struggling, Joe immediately shot to help with the heavy sign, taking it from you in a swift move before you could even tell him that you didn't need the help.

“Oh- thanks,” you mustered.

“Where do you want it?”

“Down by the till’s fine,” you pointed, and Joe set it down exactly where you’d normally keep it. You gave him an awkward smile when he turned back to you.

“Thanks for letting me use the toilet,” God, this man was gorgeous. His hair was blonder than you thought it was from having seen him on TV.

“Of course,” you smiled, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly mesmerized by his eyes. They were almost breathtaking in real life, you thought. When you noticed Joe warily check behind you to look outside the window, you grinned to yourself.

“They’ve gone, coast is clear.” You stepped around Joe who you saw visibly relax to your words.

You were ready to get back to your duty, plenty of upper shelves still empty and piles of books on the counter that needed to make its way up there. You thought about how tonight you were going to call your mum and tell her how famous actor Joseph Quinn had come into the shop and had used your toilet. How he had been so kind to help you with the A frame. No hint of an ego as he’d graced you with a couple of minutes of his presence.

You expected to hear Joe say goodbye, or to even just hear the bell of the door that he’d open to leave, but you were met with silence when you stepped back onto the ladder. Not fully trusting it, you turned to look back at him and saw him staring at a stack of books on the surface behind you.

“Whoa,” he said, taking one from the top and giving it a closer look. “This looks beautiful.”

You smiled and stepped back down, not minding Joe’s loitering in your closed business.

“They’re gorgeous, aren't they?” you moved some books about to show him more covers. “These are part of Levente Szabo’s ‘Great Books Project’, they’re all classics, but these covers are just… something else. They’re not new, but we didn’t have these ones in yet,” you explained.

“This one’s my favourite,” you pulled a copy of Blindness by José Saramago out and showed it to him. The fully black dust-jacket showed an illustrated naked woman on the front with hands grabbing at her from all sides. To you it conveyed part of the story so perfectly, you’d immediately taken a copy for yourself. You were very aware that it wasn't how running a bookstore worked, but you hadn't cared.

Joe took the book from you with careful fingers that briefly brushed yours in the transaction. He didn’t need to do that, you thought. Joe scanned the cover of the book with great attention and you took a moment to quickly study his face, his body language, through narrowed eyes. If you could read him, you decided you would. You'd read him like you'd read a poem.

You would always find yourself awestruck at poems. Sometimes it would take you a while to understand, or to find meaning, the words a mystery to you at first. But you almost always found their wordplay beautiful. They would invite to find deeper meaning behind them. Yes. You agreed with yourself. You'd read Joe, like you'd read a poem.

“I know you said you were closed, but…” Joe didn’t move, but his eyes shot up to look straight into yours. His eyebrows followed questioningly as he held out the book to you. Was this a way of flirting? Surely not, don’t be daft.

You took the book from his hands and turned towards the till, powering it back up. “Have you read this one already?” you asked, more so to just fill the silence than anything else. The book was a classic, after all.

“Not yet, I’ve seen the film though. It’s a great story,” Joe reached a hand into his back-pocket, you assumed for his wallet, and you grinned to yourself.

“Of course you’ve seen the film,” you said softly, mostly to yourself, and Joe wasn’t sure if you’d just given away that you knew exactly who he was, but he decided he wasn't going to press it.

“This place is pretty… whimsical?” Joe said as he peered around, eyes traveling up the shelves. “Thanks, I try.” You said, hinting that the shop was yours and you didn’t just work there as an employee.

“Harry Potter-ish.” He concluded.

“I’ve got those with some redesigned covers too, if you wanted to have a look,” you smiled at him coyly, knowing you were pushing your luck with your sales-pitch. It made Joe laugh. I made Joseph laugh! You could barely hold in the giddy excitement you felt pushing up your throat as you scanned the barcode to ring Joe up.

“Fuck,” your face suddenly fell when you realized.

“I’m sorry,” you winced, both for swearing, and for the news you were about to deliver. “These aren’t in the system yet.” You tapped the book in front of you. “They’re not for sale until tomorrow.”

You made sorry eyes at Joe as he dropped his head in defeat. But he was quick to whip it back up. “No worries,” he took a step back and swung his arms wide. “What time you open tomorrow? 9?” Joe guessed.

You stared at him, your facial expression blank and unwavering.

“10.” You corrected him.

“Alright,” he nodded slowly. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow. At 10.” Joe kept taking backwards steps towards the door.

“See you... tomorrow?” the words left you mouth in utter state of confusion at what was happening. Joe shot you one last smile before turning and leaving out the door. The second the door shut, you let your knees buckle and you dramatically fell to the floor, disappearing behind the counter.

How was anyone going to believe what had just happened?

You caught your breath for a second, replaying every word spoken and every look shared in your mind. Surely, you had to be dreaming. Or at least, reading into things too much. Yes. That was probably it. He’d just been a kind customer. Nothing special. Just some dude. Nothing to write home about. Nothing to read home about.

You stood back up and wiped down your skirt but froze immediately when you saw Joe through the window, standing outside the door still, a wide grin pulling at his cheeks.

Oh no.

You buried your burning face into your hands before peeking at him through your fingers. He laughed, and so you laughed too. You were such an idiot.

Joe gave a small, last wave and turned on his heel with a small hop, truly leaving this time. And as if on cue, your phone rang. You quickly checked to see who it was before answering immediately.

“Mum, you’ll never guess what’s just happened,” part two

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #fanfiction #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joe x reader #joseph x reader #joey quinn #requested

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calamitys-child · 5 months

Text

For my T anniversaries I always try to do/wear something that baby pre-transition me always dreamed of doing, like just the mundane little types of expression I've known all my life I wanted to grow up to do - get a cool haircut, go to a gig, publish some writing, stay up past my bedtime watching x files, that sort of thing - a sign of love and respect to that kid, yken? And yesterday I was taking a selfie to send my friend showing off my grown up version of the Dennis the Menace outfit I got when I was seven and wore til it fell apart, and I was so proud of that wean and I know he'd have been so overjoyed to see me, and on the door of this bathroom was a sticker reading "there's no such thing as a trans child". And I tore that down and showed everyone who loves me and everyone who hates me exactly the kind of future trans kids can and will and deserve to have. And like. Its like that post. I could write a poem about that, but I don't need to. It's already a poem. Look at it. It's on the ceiling door.

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tht0nesimp · 8 months

Text

Cold- Yan!Feitan

tw: Mentions of torture, feitan is a warning in himself, you really like peaches

This wasn’t fair. But then again, life isn’t fair? Is it? You questioned for the millionth time as your arms laid limp in the metal chains holding them just a bit too far up to the ceiling to be comfortable

When you’d first gotten here, prayers and promises were all that could pass through your already fragile mind struggling to believe that this experience is truly real. But alas, no matter how hard you screamed, pinched, or cried, the reality of your Situation never changed

you were still hanging by your wrists just barely above the cold concrete floor instead of being on your couch listening to music or poems or sleeping, doing anything that Didn’t cause as much pain, Albeit the only thing that kept you from thinking this was the worst possible outcome was the bloody screams coming faintly from the other side of the small area you were in, the only thing keeping you from the rest of the concrete basement was a few thick dividers somewhat resembling what you would see dividing patients at a hospital

there was a small cot next to you with a thin blanket on it, worn out and as much as you would love to lay down on it, it looks like it’s barely 10 pounds from falling in on itself. The only other thing with you in this small corner of the-Barely-closed off room was a rusted sink covered in all sorts of liquids as well as unidentifiable stains

He rarely talked to you, he either came to hurt you to watch you (Sometimes the latter), More than likely a cruel tactic to break down your “tough” psyche which hadn’t quite crumbled down on itself yet. He was asking someone questions, the screams were somewhat faint to your delight as it Meant you wouldn’t have to hear the man plead for his life today

The noises eventually come to a stop, And footsteps slowly make stop infront of the divider. His shoes visible for a moment before the divider moves and suddenly your body hits the freezing grey floor

“Up.” He speaks with slight annoyance, adrenaline seemed to let your tired legs shakily stand. “Hm” he stared at the cot and held his hand out for a moment, doing something you couldn’t see, “Lay down” he points to the cot and seems rather pleased that you wearily lay on it

It doesn’t collapse but it creaks “I’ll get a new one tomorrow” his monotone voice barely reaches you “Thank you” the feeling of laying down even if it was just with a thin blanket was refreshing beyond belief. “Don’t try anything, or you’ll get to see first hand what happens” He warns

“Yes sir” the words come out dry from days without water or food “It’s feitan” he moves the divider quickly and suddenly hes gone. It takes a few hours for you to even be able to get up and stretch your legs, you approach the old sink attached to the wall at the bottom of the cot-The thought would have made you sick before this last week or so but it barely even made your mind in the desperate mood you were in

you put your hand under the weak stream of water trickling from the leaky faucet, taking a gulp of the cold water was pure bliss. After a few more rabid gulps you were able to turn off the sink before sitting back down on the cot

you were so focused on the water that you neglected to realize feitan stood behind you, watching the animalistic behavior with a surprised look hiding behind his cowl. You immediately look down in slight shame, mixed with fear of how he might react

“hmm, thirsty, huh?” He teased while looking at the sink for a moment “Uh…yeah” your voice comes out weaker than you hoped it would “I might replace the sink eventually” if you were delusional than you might have actually believed him

You spared him your seeming belief in the form of a thin smile, your mind much more worried about how your going to get out of this hellhole. Feitan stared for what felt like an eternity before he walks away once more into the surrounding room- The only difference was that the divider was not returned to its closed off form and instead is open

You clumsily stumbled out, Looking around the rest of the room, There was someone shaking in the corner as if they were freezing but you ran past them and towards the wooden steps that creaked when you ran up them to reach the upstairs of his house. Your greeted by feitan sitting at a table next to a small kitchen, on the other side of the table is a living room with a small old couch sitting facing a small TV

“Brave one…” he mutters just loud enough for you to hear from the top step, the dusty glass goor closed behind you as your feet meet the near freezing wooden floors of the dining room. “Sit, Hungry?” He calmly asks with a slight hint of pity at seeing your shaky steps towards the chair across from him

“Yeah…” you look down at your lap but it just makes him chuckle and get up, placing a peach in front of you with surprising gentleness. “Thank you” it takes all of your effort not to immediately sink your teeth into the soft fruit in-front of you until he sits down across from you, the little self control you managed to uphold tore to pieces when you looked down at the fruit again

It wasn’t peach season, but the thought barely crossed your mind as the fruit was gone in mere seconds. Feitan laughed at the once more ravenous behavior in a way that made your cheeks light up pink from shame

“Your as pink as the peach was” he mumbles before throwing the pit in the trash without even looking, watching the slight amazement on your face with pride.

He propped his elbows up on the table and held his head in his hand “I’m gonna ask you questions, your gonna answer honestly” out of some small confidence you had the curiosity to ask “If I don’t?” feitan sighs and his eyes narrow at you

“then you can say goodbye to the cot, for a long,long, time”

#Yandere feitan #brainrot #yandere male #Yandere hxh #Yandere Hunterxhunter #fandom #Hxh brainrot #Yandere HxH blog #yandere blog #yandere scenarios #I kinda like it #CandiesActualFics #Yan!

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sweetiehyuka · 1 year

Note

I’m sick today and in need of Taehyun fluff where he takes care of reader when they’re sick. 🥺 pretty please?

aweee, baby.... just for you, heres a lil drabble <3 i hope you recover soon my angel, i love u sm. i wrote this whilst listening to love poem by iu, hence the title, as its a song that always is a comfort to me.

Love Poem - Taehyun

summary - reader is sad and sick and their boyfie comes to the rescue <3 cheesy and basic lol

w/c - >0.5k

bzzz...bzzz

Reluctantly, you force your eyes open. Everything hurts. Your head, your eye sockets, your tounge, your throat... you truly feel like your body is made out of brick rather than bone. With a shaky hand you reach over and pick up your phone, and the contact on the screen brings the slightest bit of comfort to you.

'Tyunnie <3 calling...'

After pointing your phone camera towards the ceiling - since he called you on facetime and you really dont want to be seen in this state - you accept the call. Your screen quickly lights up with his pretty face ; sparkling eyes, soft hair, pursed lips.

"Babe?" Taehyun says, moving his head around as if it would give him a better view of the still image of your ceiling. "I can't see you?"

"Tyunnie..." you croak, cutting yourself off with a sniffle.

Immediately, his face softens.

"Sweetheart?" he starts. "Is something wrong?"

"Don't feel well..." you mutter, eyes brimming with tears. You know he probably can't come to you right now because of his schedule, and you hate being alone whilst you're sick. You've tried not to mention it to him yet, not wanting to make him feel bad for being unable to be with you.

"Really?"

He sighs softly, big eyes full with worry.

"Thank god I have the rest of the day off. Can I come take care of you?"

"If you don't mind..." you reply, sheepishly. You already feel guilty, but can't deny how badly you need his company.

"Of course not, sweetheart. I'll be right over. Please take some rest, I can let myself in."

"Okay..."

"Okay. I won't be long."

Before ending the call, he gives you a gentle smile, and it feels as though he's looking into your eyes. As soon as he hangs up, your phone falls from your hand, and you fall under into a slumber.

When you wake up, Taehyun is nuzzled into you, whispering a lullaby into your hair. You pretend to still be asleep, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you and the sound of his sweet voice a little too much. If not for the heavy pain through your whole body, this would be the perfect moment. He really was everything you needed to feel better.

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idontknowreallywhy · 6 months

Text

Estera

Ok, this may be mostly for an audience of me and maybe two others and it’s my first ever OC so I’m more than a little nervous… but she popped into my head fairly fully formed and quietly insisted her side of things be told.

I’m treating it as a sequel to my one-shot (Stars Are Only Visible in Darkness) rather than a chapter 2… for Reasons. Subsequent chapters are here:

It lives vaguely within the same universe as @sofasurf’s awesome Recrudesence story and she both inspired and incited most of this so I blame her for everything except any examples of poor writing…!

The Tracy in question is much discussed but not named at this stage however it’s fairly clear who it is, particularly if you’ve read the above. If this goes the way I plan, all of them will turn up at some stage… this section is rather sad but it will improve and hopefully some healing will occur for various parties and happy ending vibes.

Triggers for war, implied violence/torture, trauma type stuff. If I have messed any of this up I do apologise - I have experience of MH stuff and some kinds of therapies offered but have never lived in a war zone nor had that kind of trauma.

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Estera is a Romanian girl’s name of Old Persian and Babylonian origins, with links to Hebrew. It is favored in Polish, Slavic, and Croatian-speaking communities as a form of Esther and means “star.” ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“What’s YOUR favourite colour, Miss?” An eager hand shot towards the ceiling only slightly slower, she noted wryly, than the question that had already burst out into the unusually studious atmosphere of Class 3B.

“Blue”, she answered without thinking.

“Why?”

“Oh! Ah, well…”

Suddenly every English word slipped from her brain and she froze.

“Blue is… it’s…”

She was taking too long… she was taking TOO long. They were all looking at her expectantly now.

It’s a simple question, Estera, they are waiting… come on just make something up for goodness sake.

“Well… the sky is blue. And the sea. And some really pretty flowers… lots of good things are blue.”

The questioner nodded, seemingly approving of this statement, and returned to the bright red pencil crayon rockets encircling his short poem about his favourite colour.

She quietly let out the breath she’d been holding and slowly tapped the desk with each finger in turn, willing her heart rate to return to something respectable. She mentally slapped herself for being so short-sighted - it was entirely predictable that one of the children would ask her the same question she had asked them that morning and she should have prepared an answer. A little white lie answer she could calmly give to a class of 7 year olds.

The truth, of course being that yellow had been her favourite colour her whole life. Until that life had ended in the market square of the small town of her birth.

Then there had been blue.

Intense, fiery, determined BLUE.

And everything she had now - her breath, her dignity, her freedom - she owed to blue.

A deep breath. Not now. Don’t think now.

She busied herself with marking maths sheets, taking her time over it to ensure nobody would question why she wasn’t writing and illustrating her own ode to her favourite colour. She already knew none of the school crayons was the right shade.

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The sensation of something crawling across her cheek woke her, hands flying to her face before she was conscious enough to realise it was just her own tears again. All was dark.

The dream wobbled at the edges but didn’t fade, the images and emotions still raw. She threw off the covers and felt her way to the kitchen to make coffee. Strong to overwhelm her senses and almost hot enough to hurt. Something else to focus on until she summoned up the strength to shut it out.

It was frustrating. For all the work she’d put into practising the exercises to prevent the flashbacks, hours upon hours of therapy… of breathing, grounding, counting, tapping… none of it could stop her reliving it while unconscious. It seemed that every night she was back there, desperately trying to persuade her class to leave her because they were in so much danger. She couldn’t let the brutes take one of them, no matter the consequences to herself. It wasn’t even a choice.

She’d closed her eyes, hoping against hope the end would be quick, knowing for sure it would be anything but.

There’d been a thud and a yelp and the hands that had seized her so roughly were gone. Her eyes had flown open in disbelief.

A fraction of a second of shocked silence, where she had looked up into those vivid blue eyes burning with fury.

Then all hell broke loose.

She’d backed away slowly and then run as far as the passageway past the school before a cry of pain made her turn back. Three of the six soldiers were on the ground and looked unlikely to get up again, but two had her mysterious saviour pinned by the arms and another stood in front of him spinning a wicked-looking blade in his hand.

She’d scrabbled on the ground and picked up a fragment of broken slate which she’d thrown desperately, hoping to cause a distraction, give him a chance to break free.

His head had snapped up and she’d met his gaze, the fury replaced by desperation.

“RUN!” he’d screamed. Her legs had obeyed without waiting for the consent of her heart and mind.

And she had run.

And she had lived.

And she’d lived with the guilt every day since.

She didn’t see what happened to him, but she’d imagined it so many times. His face haunted her. Sometimes it was the steely, determined hero who strode into her life, eyes flashing. Other times, the terrified boy spitting blood and pleading with her to survive.

She was determined to honour the chance he’d given her by really living. Doing some good wherever she could. She’d escaped to England and very quickly started teaching again - she could make a difference there - and the innocence of those children, untouched by horror, was soothing. She’d considered qualifying as a doctor like her sister, but couldn’t afford the fees or the years, so she trained as a volunteer first responder and taught first aid at evening classes. She cooked and delivered meals for the elderly. She filled every minute with helpful friendly acts to keep her too busy and exhausted to think too much. She’d even run a marathon to fundraise for rebuilding projects in her birthplace… desperate to do something… even though she could never bring herself to return personally.

Not that there was anything for her to return to. Her sister and teenage nieces had escaped to Italy many months before she herself had finally fled their homeland. It was understandable, the young girls needed… to not be there. Her parents had successfully laid low and avoided the attention of the militia, only for the malaria to take them both a month before the end of the war.

Estera slapped her palm on the the table, drained her coffee and stood up to flick the lights on. She shivered as the sweat soaked pjs quietly siphoned away her body heat. A shower to warm up and look alive.

It was School Trip day today - she needed to bring her A-Game.

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Link to Chapter 2

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #Thunderbirds OC #Estera #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #tw: war #tw: implied violence #TB Estera

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hansomeskz · 11 months

Text

Ceilings

Pairing: Minsung

Read on: Ao3 | Quotev | Wattpad

Twitter

Jisung spots the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. The rest is history

Jisung has had the worst day.

He finds himself trudging into the coffee shop a few doors down from the hospital after the longest shift he’s ever worked. The sun has just crept over the horizon, but he’s too exhausted to take in its beauty.

His scrubs are stained and he knows he looks like a mess, but all he wants is one cup of coffee to help him survive the drive home.

As he’s waiting in line he takes in his surroundings, trying to find something to keep himself entertained. That’s when he sees him.

Seated by the window sits the most beautiful man Jisung has ever seen, working on his laptop. His raven-black hair falls into his eyes, Jisung really doesn’t even know how he can see the screen past it. His confusion is cleared up when the modelesque man huffs and puffs, angrily brushing the hair out of his eyes.

Jisung just has to say hi.

He leaves his spot in line to approach the table, tapping gently on the surface to get his attention. “I’m so sorry, is this seat taken?” He gestures to the empty seat across from the man. He sizes Jisung up briefly before he offers the blond a soft smile. “No, you can sit.”

“Thanks,” he says as he slides into the chair, returning the smile. “So what can I help you with…?”

“Jisung. My name is Jisung. But my friends call me Han if you’d prefer.” Jisung knows he’s already rambling, nerves taking over in front of somebody he finds so beautiful. “Okay, Jisung. What can I help you with?” The dark-haired man cocks his head to the side slightly, leaning back in his chair.

“This might sound so weird but I just… I saw you when I walked in and knew it would be a mistake if I didn’t at least shoot my shot. Do you think maybe we could talk a bit? Get to know each other?”

As the words leave his mouth, Jisung’s heart sinks. That was maybe the lamest thing he’s ever said. He’s already opening his mouth to apologize and leave when the man across from him responds, his cheeks flushed a brilliant red. “Sure. I’d like that.”

“Really?” Jisung is shocked, eyes blown wide. The man laughs, nodding. “Really. I’m Minho.”

“Jisung.”

“Yeah, I know.” Minho’s eyes sparkle with amusement as he watches Jisung squirm, the blond’s face burning hot with embarrassment. “Oh. Right.”

“Are you a nurse?”

“I am.”

“Tell me about that.” Minho leans forward on his elbow, resting his chin on his hand. After that, the conversation is easy. They talk about music, books, and anything else they can think of.

Jisung discovers that Minho runs a bookstore nearby, and in his free time, he writes poems. They talk about their favourite foods, and the blond is enchanted to hear that not only is Minho a good cook, but he loves to do it too. He wonders if that would pair well with Jisung’s love of baking, but doesn’t say anything for fear of getting ahead of himself.

Their chatter lasts late into the afternoon. The staff has to politely ask them to leave so they can finish closing, and it’s only when Jisung is hitting send on his first text to Minho that he realizes he didn’t even get a coffee.

The next few days they text non-stop and Jisung is embarrassed to admit he feels giddy. Each time his phone lights up his heart starts to race. He hopes every time that it’s a text from Minho, and most times he’s completely correct.

Minho

How’s work been?

You’re just getting home, right?

Jisung

just got in! :)

work was ok!!!!!! the shifts are always hectic :’(

how was your day??

are you still at the book store :o

Minho

Yeah, I’m here most days.

But I make the schedule so that’s my fault, haha.

I gave myself this weekend off, though!

So that’ll be nice.

Jisung

all weekend??????

that’s so exciting!!!!!

do you maybe have any plans saturday night??

if you’re not too tired maybe you and i could grab dinner

we don’t have to I just think maybe it would be fun :D

Minho

I’d love to.

I have some errands to run in the morning but I’ll be free by 5?

Jisung

ok!! that sounds good to me :)

where do you want to go?

Minho

You’re so busy with work, let me handle all the planning.

Speaking of, you must be exhausted.

I’ll let you go.

Talk later?

Jisung

i can’t wait :)

Minho

Sleep tight, Jisung. x

Jisung is unreasonably excited on Saturday. Minho had texted him a screenshot of their reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town just the night before. Jisung didn’t sleep after that.

He’s smoothing out his shirt for the hundredth time standing in front of the hallway mirror. His slacks feel too stiff and the button-down is a little too loose, he thinks, but he hopes Minho doesn’t notice.

He stands outside waiting for Minho long before the older boy said he’d be by to pick him up. To pass the time, he watches the dark clouds swirl overhead. It looks like it might rain, but that won’t stop Jisung at all.

As the minutes tick by Jisung’s mind starts to mimic the storm brewing overhead, his thoughts swirling and crowding his mind. What if Minho doesn’t like him? What if this date is disappointing, and it all falls apart? Jisung doesn’t know if he could bear losing the most exciting part of his days right now.

The clouds in Jisung’s brain dissipate as Minho’s car pulls up in front of him. He slips into the passenger seat, smiling shyly at him. The smile that Minho returns is bright and dazzling.

“You look really nice,” the older boy says, squeezing Jisung’s knee gently before he gets them back on the road. “Oh, thanks… you do too.”

“Thanks, Ji. You know, I haven’t done this in a while.” Minho spares him a glance, the tips of his ears turning red. “So just be patient, okay?”

“It’s been a while for me, too. Nursing can really take up a lot of my time…”

“I bet. Well, I’m glad I got to sneak into your schedule.” The way that Minho sounds so soft and so genuine makes Jisung’s heart race. He smiles nervously and nods. “Yeah, me too.”

When they get to the restaurant, the hostess can’t find their reservation. Jisung can see the stress written all over the older boy’s face, so he intertwines their fingers and leans into his side.

“I don’t mind waiting for a table,” he says quietly. Minho sighs and looks at him. “Are you sure? We can go somewhere else if you don’t want to wait.”

“No, it’s alright. We can wait.” Jisung squeezes his hand gently and smiles up at him. Minho returns it and nods, adding them to the waitlist.

The wait for a table isn’t that long, but neither of them knows what to say. They look in opposite directions, occasionally sparing each other nervous glances when the other mentions something they like about the decor.

Jisung is starting to get anxious again when the hostess takes them to their table. Minho pulls out the blond’s chair for him, causing his face to heat up. “Oh- Uh, thank you.” He sits, clasping his hands in his lap as he stares directly down at this menu.

Minho sits across from him, the two going over the menu in total silence. Jisung thinks he can hear the blood rushing in his ears.

It’s not until the waiter has taken their orders that the silence becomes unbearable and Jisung blurts out the first thing he can think of. “It looks like it’s going to rain, doesn’t it?”

Minho’s eyes go wide briefly before he looks outside. “Yeah. I guess so.”

The silence returns soon after that.

Jisung can’t take it. His clothes are uncomfortable, the restaurant is much stuffier than he expected, and he feels kind of like his head is going to explode. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom,” he says, pushing his chair out and stalking off before Minho can say anything.

He texts his best friend Felix the second he makes it out of Minho’s sight.

Jisung

it’s a disaster!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

neither of us know what to say and i hate this restaurant!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Felix

do u need me to call and say i died????

i can do it

Jisung

no im gonna tough it out like a big boy i just need you to know that im suffering :(

Felix

text me the safe word if u need an escape plan i can be crashing through the restaurant window in 15

Jisung

i dont know what i would do without u wow what a hero

ok im going back wish me luck

Felix

god gives his toughest battles to his sexiest soldiers hannie

Jisung takes a deep breath before making his way back out to Minho. When he gets to the table, he sees two to-go boxes sitting in front of the dark-haired boy.

His heart sinks. Of course Minho took the time to find them an out, but Jisung’s disappointed they didn’t get the chance to fix their date. Minho, though, smiles up at the younger boy as he approaches.

“I had an idea if you’ll indulge me.” He stands, picking up the containers. Jisung tilts his head slightly. “What’s the idea?”

“Why don’t you just come with me and find out?” The playful sparkle in Minho’s eyes makes Jisung’s heart skip a beat. “Yeah, okay. I’m in.”

“Great.” He takes Jisung’s hand in his own, pulling him back out to the car.

It’s not long before the two of them find themselves next to the Han River. They watch as it moves with purpose. Like something important is happening today.

Minho has lain out his suit jacket for them to sit on. They sit with their thighs pressed against each other to try and make sure neither ends up sitting in mud.

“I’m sorry the restaurant was a bust. My friends said it was great there, but it doesn’t really seem like your thing,” Minho says quietly, looking embarrassed. Jisung shrugs lightly, smiling reassuringly at the older boy. “This is a lot more my pace.”

“Mine too.” He cracks open their to-go containers, offering the younger boy a fork. Jisung is quick to dig in, feeding Minho occasional bites.

“I listened to that playlist you sent me,” Jisung says suddenly. He’s finding it much easier to think now that they’re out of the way of prying eyes and ears. “Yeah? How did you like it?”

“I loved it. You have great taste, Min. I especially love that acoustic love song you have on there, it feels like a song from a movie.”

“I like that one, too,” Minho says softly, smiling fondly at the blond.

The conversation flows so easily after that. Jisung gives him some more in-depth reviews of the songs he liked the most, Minho nodding happily as he listens, propped up on an arm that has him leaning incredibly close to the younger boy’s side.

When they get onto the topic of Minho’s cats, the raven-haired boy lights up completely. He scrolls through different photos of them, telling Jisung all sorts of stories. “They’re my lifeline. I even take them to the bookstore with me most days. They just laze around while people browse.”

“That’s so cute,” Jisung coos, resting his head on the older boy’s shoulder so he can watch the river flow. He sits like that for a while, Minho’s arm finding its way around his waist. They’re quiet, but they’re content this time.

It’s only when the skies open up, soaking them both, that the two pull apart. Jisung gasps when the rain first starts to come down, standing up quickly out of pure shock. Minho laughs at him, staring up at him with the fondest look he’s ever seen. The rain has strands of hair sticking to Minho’s face, but Jisung thinks he’s never looked better.

“What, afraid of a little rain?” Minho asks, cocking his head to the side. “It’s fucking cold,” the blond whines, a shiver shooting down his spine. Minho shakes his head playfully. He fishes around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out his AirPods and offering one to Jisung.

He takes it hesitantly, putting it in. After a few seconds, that pretty acoustic song they’d been talking about starts to play.

Minho pushes himself up off the ground, holding his hand out in Jisung’s direction. “May I have this dance?”

Jisung nearly swoons, blushing as he lets Minho pull him in close. He never thought he’d be the type to fall for something so cliche, but the way the raven-haired boy smiles at him is so warm and inviting.

He presses closer, resting his head on Minho’s shoulder as the older boy tightens his grip on Jisung’s waist. Despite the way the rain makes their skin slick, their hands slot together with no hope of separating any time soon.

Minho sings quietly into his ear while they sway, the rain never letting up for even a moment. It feels like a movie, and Jisung soaks up every second of it.

When the song changes, neither of them takes the chance to pull away. A faster tempo song coaxes them into dancing a little sillier, Minho insisting on spinning Jisung as many times as he can.

Once they’re both completely exhausted, several songs and out-of-tune sing-alongs later, they sink back onto Minho’s jacket. Jisung is laughing, his cheeks bright red. He doesn’t miss the lovesick smile on Minho’s face.

They only call it quits once the sun has set, the orange finally fading into the darkest of blues. Tonight, despite all the clouds, Jisung thinks the colours around them seem more saturated than usual.

As they walk up to Jisung’s house, the older boy turns to him suddenly. “I’m really sorry about the rocky start to the date,” he says softly. Jisung shakes his head, but Minho keeps going before he can respond.

“I just… I was already so nervous. You’re so kind and so handsome… I really wanted this date to go well. And then the reservation was gone, and…”

“I had a lot of fun, Minho. You have nothing to apologize for.” Jisung takes his hand, smiling. “I was really nervous too, but this was incredible.”

Minho looks relieved, smiling back at the younger boy. “Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t blow it.”

“You didn’t. I can’t wait to see you again.”

They both linger for a few moments, neither wanting to leave without a proper goodbye. When Jisung’s eyes flicker down to Minho’s mouth, the older leans in.

It feels like fireworks are going off around them as their lips touch, slotting together like the two men were made for each other. Jisung wraps his arms around Minho’s neck, desperately pulling him closer.

When they both finally pull away, gasping for air, Minho laughs. “What, was I bad?” Jisung asks, looking horrified.

“No! No, I just…” He laughs again, admiring Jisung while he has the chance. “I just never kiss on the first date.”

Jisung’s face heats up, burning an impossible shade of red. “Oh.”

“I don’t think I could’ve waited a second longer, though. Okay- I seriously have to go, I know we both work early.” Minho steals one last kiss before backing towards his car, smiling brightly. “Goodnight Jisung.”

“Night, Minho.”

Jisung feels a little silly when he gets inside, leaning back against his front door like a giddy schoolgirl. He’s in so deep already.

The night is quiet aside from their laboured breathing. Minho is on his back next to Jisung, panting. Jisung wipes away beads of sweat from his own forehead before turning onto his side to get a good look at the raven-haired boy, propping himself up on his elbow.

Minho has his eyes closed, head tilted back against the pillows as he swallows thickly. He looks so beautiful like this. “You alright?” Jisung asks quietly, tracing a finger down the older boy’s bare chest. “You fucking killed me,” Minho laughs, opening his eyes to get a good look at the man next to him.

Jisung rolls his eyes playfully, a cheeky grin playing on his lips. “Sounds a little dramatic if you ask me,” he says, raising his eyebrows. Minho shakes his head before he shifts so he’s matching the blond’s pose. “I only say things I mean.”

“I don’t believe that. Just a few minutes ago you called me a stupid slut, do you still think that?” Jisung cocks his head to the side, eyes wide. Minho barks out a laugh and steals a kiss. “Yeah, I do. But Ji, you’re my stupid slut. That’s why I…”

Minho doesn’t finish his sentence but Jisung knows exactly what he’s thinking. He can feel it in the crinkles of the older boy’s eyes when he smiles. He can taste it in the meals Minho drops off at his work.

Jisung has been thinking it for a while now, but he’s been too scared to say anything lest it be too early. The feeling in his chest bubbles and bursts every time their lips connect at the end of a long day, or when Minho sneaks pictures of him playing with the cats.

He loves Minho, he does. That’s why it’s so easy for him to just smile warmly and peck the older boy’s lips. “I love you too, Min.”

Minho blushes, blinking quickly in disbelief. “You do?”

“I do.”

“I’ve never been happier to have somebody who can read my mind, Ji.” Minho lunges at him, pinning him back down against the bed. Jisung squeals with laughter, half-heartedly flailing his limbs to try to escape Minho’s grasp.

“Say it again,” the raven-haired boy demands. Jisung shakes his head, still laughing. “You haven’t even really said it yet! It’s your turn, asshole.”

“I love you Jisung,” Minho yells into the silence of the night, drawing more laughter from the younger boy. “I love you more than I could ever explain, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” He’s pressing kisses all over Jisung’s face now, the most beautiful smile taking over his face.

Jisung’s skin is on fire, burning with embarrassment. “You’re going to wake up my neighbours,” he hisses, slipping a hand out of Minho’s grasp to clasp over the older boy’s mouth.

“I don’t care,” he says into his skin, pressing kisses to his palm while he can. “I want the world to know how much I fucking love you, Ji.”

He’s embarrassed, sure, but the overwhelming happiness and relief he feels are enough to convince Jisung to let Minho go, shaking his head. “I love you too, Min.”

He tips his head back as Minho attaches his lips to Jisung’s neck, whispering sweet nothings as he makes his way further down the blond boy’s body.

They’ve been in the car for hours now, on their way to Minho’s parents’ cottage. “You’ve just never been especially good at navigation is all I’m saying, Min,” Jisung teases from the passenger seat, holding a Twizzler in the older boy’s direction.

“Well, I don’t see you being especially helpful,” Minho snaps, snatching the snack out of Jisung’s hand. The blond’s eyes go wide, his heart rate picking up. “Hey… I was just kidding, Minho. You know that, right?”

“You’ve been on my case for the past hour, Jisung. I can’t do anything about how long it takes to get there, especially not in this fucking traffic.”

The younger boy frowns, putting a hand on Minho’s knee.

“I’m sorry, baby. This must be stressful for you. We woke up so early to leave, too.” Jisung squeezes gently before rubbing gentle circles into the older boy’s thigh with his thumb. “Do you want me to drive for a bit? You must be exhausted.”

Minho grumbles something but pulls them off to the side of the road, pressing his forehead against the wheel.

“I’m really sorry, Min. I didn’t realize the teasing was really upsetting you. You should’ve told me.” Jisung ducks his head a bit, rubbing the back of his neck.

The older boy sighs, shaking his head as he sits up. “Sorry, Ji.” He reaches over and cups Jisung’s cheek gently, his expression softening significantly when he sees the guilty look on his boyfriend’s face. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m just so tired.”

“It’s okay, love. Let me drive for a bit, okay?” Jisung leans into his touch a bit, smiling softly when Minho nods.

Once they’ve swapped seats and gotten comfortable, Jisung gets them back on the road. He lets Minho take over the music, a hand resting on the older boy’s thigh.

“M’sorry I yelled at you,” Minho says quietly. Jisung squeezes his leg gently, shaking his head. “It’s okay, baby. I know how you get when you’re tired. I’m sorry I was being annoying.”

Minho takes his hand gently, squeezing tightly. “You’re not annoying. You know I love it when you tease me.”

“I can take it too far sometimes. I should’ve realized how tired you were.”

“Hey- stop apologizing for me yelling at you,” Minho says, kissing his cheek before settling into the seat. Jisung smiles lightly, glancing at his boyfriend.

He catches Minho right as he leans his head against the window, eyes slipping shut. As he turns his attention back to the road, he thinks about how uncomfortable that position is going to be in an hour. “My hoodie’s in the backseat, you can use it as a pillow if you want.”

“Mm… Good idea.” Minho is quick to lean into the back and grab it, just holding it tight against his chest instead. Jisung laughs lightly, shaking his head.

The older boy puts Jisung’s hand back on his thigh and he keeps their fingers interlaced as he drifts off, Jisung singing quietly to the songs on the radio.

Jisung feels so lucky to be with Minho, even when they aren’t always on the same page. He hopes he gets to do this forever.

Minho and Jisung are sat in the pews, watching as Seungmin and Chan stare at each other with the most lovesick expression. Jisung is crying, naturally, and Minho keeps leaning over to dab the younger boy’s tears away.

“Weddings always make me cry,” Jisung sniffs, staring up at Minho. “I know, Ji. You cried for like, six hours after Felix and Changbin got married. Felix didn’t even cry that long.”

“They just looked so happy,” the blond wails, burying his face in his hands. Minho laughs and pulls him close, rubbing gentle circles into the blond’s back. “Yeah, they really did.”

“I just know they’re feeling the same thing that I feel when I look at you, and the idea that my friends know what it’s like to be so unbelievably, undeniably in love makes me so fucking happy.” Jisung looks up at the love of his life with round, glossy eyes.

The raven-haired boy looks completely lovesick, which just makes Jisung cry harder. “I’m just so happy for them.”

“I know, Ji. You wanna get up and get something to drink?” Minho stands when the younger boy nods, pulling him to join the others as cocktail hour starts.

Jisung doesn’t stop crying until he’s had a few glasses of wine, now sat inside the reception. Minho keeps raking his fingers through the blond’s hair which makes him shiver almost every time.

Jisung watches Chan and Seungmin do the rounds, thanking everybody for coming out. He notices that in the few moments of peace that they have, they can’t keep their hands off of each other, sweet kisses and whispered words exchanged in dark corners where they hope the partygoers can’t see them.

When Jisung looks back at Minho, the older man only has his eyes on him. Jisung blushes, tilting his head a little. “What are you looking at?”

“You.”

“Yeah, baby, I collected that much.”

“I love you. I just want to look at you. That’s all.” Minho smiles warmly as Jisung’s face flushes. The younger boy rolls his eyes, scoffing. “I have a wine stain on my shirt, don’t I?”

“There is a pretty big red wine stain on your shirt, honey.” Minho laughs, placing a hand over the stain as Jisung scowls playfully at him. “You could’ve just told me that, dickweed.”

“I do just like looking at you, too.” The raven-haired boy caresses his cheek gently, only looking away from him when Chan and Seungmin approach their table. “Oh my god, you guys need to get a room,” Seungmin says with what Jisung can only assume to be genuine disgust. Minho laughs as Jisung scoffs playfully. “As if you and Chan weren’t just sucking faces five minutes ago.”

“It’s our wedding day,” Chan chirps, clapping a hand against Han’s back. “We’re allowed to be disgusting.”

“When Jisung and I get married, it’s over for you bitches,” Minho jokes, causing Jisung to choke on his wine.

When they get married? They’d never talked about marriage before. It’s not a surprising concept considering how long they’ve been together, but it still catches the younger boy off guard. Minho just pats his back gently as Seungmin and Chan laugh at them, heading off to the next table.

Jisung thinks about asking, about figuring out if that’s something Minho really wants, but he knows now might not be the best time to have an intense emotional conversation with him, so he just polishes off his glass of wine.

“If you keep up that pace, you’ll be hammered before the first dance.”

“That’s kind of the goal, baby.” Jisung grins up at him and Minho takes that as a challenge.

They spend the night chugging wine and causing problems, their two favourite pastimes.

Late into the reception, when half the crowd has gone home, they find themselves swaying slowly to a fast-paced song. They’re far too lost in each other to notice that the slow song they were dancing to fifteen minutes ago has changed several times over.

Jisung presses their foreheads together, a hand on either side of Minho’s face. His eyes are barely open but he can still see Minho clear as day. “I love you, Min.”

“I can’t think of another person I’d want to spend my whole life with,” The older boy breathes, spinning Jisung delicately before pulling him back in close.

Jisung presses their lips together to stop any questions from tumbling out. He just wants to enjoy this moment, he can worry about their future later.

Jisung has had the most hellish shift of his life and he tells Minho as much on their daily phone call on his way home.

“I’m just so sick of this shit, Min. I can’t keep doing this,” he says, voice breaking. The older boy hums sympathetically on the other end. “I know, baby. Being a nurse is hard, you deal with so much real shit. I’m proud of you for doing something so important, even if it can be stressful.”

The genuine compassion in Minho’s voice causes tears to prick at Jisung’s eyes as he pulls into their driveway. “I’ll be inside in a minute,” he says before hanging up before Minho can respond.

He spends the next few minutes crying in his car, all the stress of the past few days at work building into one massive breakdown. Minho comes out when he sees Jisung through the window, knocking gently on the car door.

Jisung practically throws himself at the older boy as he gets out, burying his face in his neck as he hiccups softly. “Oh, angel…” Minho coos, rubbing his back.

The blond lets himself be ushered inside, Minho helping him change before getting him curled up in bed. Jisung laughs a little through the tears as the raven-haired boy piles their cats on top of him. “Wait here, I’ve got dinner ready for you.”

Jisung snuggles with the cats and tries to pull himself together while he waits, feeling very lucky to have found his soulmate. The one who knows just how to handle his worst moments.

Minho carries a tray of food and wine as he steps back in, situating the tray in the younger boy’s lap and placing the glass of wine on the bedside table. “There, baby. Eat up.”

Jisung picks at the food, his appetite non-existent. He’s just grateful to have Minho sitting with him, telling him silly little stories from the bookstore today.

“You know, Min… There’s nothing I look forward to more after a day like today than coming home to you. I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one, Jisung. You know… I was thinking…” the older boy trails off, fidgeting with his fingers nervously. “What’s up, honey?”

“At Chan’s wedding a few months ago… you said something about how you like weddings because the couple always looks like they feel the way you and I feel, right?”

“Yeah. It’s my favourite part. Knowing my friends have found their person, too.”

“Well, since you think we’re the standard, I was thinking maybe it’s our turn.”

“Our turn?” Jisung’s heart is pounding, face flushing impossibly red. “What are you asking, Minho?”

“I was just wondering if maybe… Jisung, will you marry me?” Minho looks so afraid when he asks; like he’s convinced the younger boy would ever even consider saying no. Jisung lunges at him, knocking the dinner tray to the floor as he pins Minho down against the bed.

His face bursts into the biggest smile he’s ever had, and the older boy is quick to mirror it back to him. “Of course I will, Min. Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for you to ask me! You mentioned us getting married at that wedding and I was convinced you were going to pop the question right then and there!”

“I almost did! I thought it might be rude, so I held back.” Minho laughs, opening his mouth to say more. Jisung doesn’t let him, though, pressing their lips together in a heated kiss. They almost get lost in each other, hands wandering as they grow more desperate.

Minho breaks the kiss, pushing Jisung back a little as he catches his breath. “I have a ring for you.”

The older boy props himself up on his elbows, stealing another peck from Jisung before he digs through the drawer on his bedside table. “You kept it in there?”

“Baby, you’ve never looked through a drawer before in your life, especially not my drawer. It was safe in here.”

Jisung feigns hurt, but he’s laughing. Tears are pricking at his eyes again, but this time they’re happy tears. Once the ring, a simple silver band, is secure on his hand, Minho pulls him back in.

They spend the night tangled in the sheets, whispering sweet nothings between gasps and groans.

“Next, please,” the barista calls. Jisung shakes his head a little to clear his head, still reeling from the fantasy he’d created. He’s standing there in the very same coffee shop he started in, his scrubs stained to oblivion, looking like a mess.

The beautiful stranger is still seated by the window, now packing his things into his bag.

Jisung feels insane, having just imagined a future with a man whose name he doesn’t even know. He briefly considers just letting the man leave instead of feeding into his own delusions.

But then he thinks back to it all. He thinks back to the beauty and the ups and downs of the life he could have with this man he’s never met; with the most beautiful man he’s ever seen.

If he doesn’t do something now, he’ll spend the rest of his life wondering if this was it for him. He can’t build a life wondering if he let his soulmate get away to avoid being a little awkward in a coffee shop.

The barista calls for him again, but he steps out of line, marching his way over to the table as the raven-haired man rises out of his seat. “Hey,” Jisung says, pressing both of his palms against the tabletop.

The stranger stares at him, wide-eyed. “Do I know you?”

“No, but you’re about to. My name is Han Jisung,” he sticks his hand out, smiling brightly. The dark-haired man looks bewildered but clasps their hands together in a firm handshake. “Lee Minho.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Minho.”

"Finally?"

"I feel like I've seen you in my dreams before."

#minsung #fluff #stray kids #skz #stray kids fic #minsung fic #minsung fluff #han jisung #han jisung fic #lee know fic #lee know #lee minho fic #lee minho #han jisung fluff #han fluff #lee know fluff #lee minho fluff

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terribledactyl · 3 months

Text

okay not to be A Poet but I always feel a little ticked about the post talking about how some moments are too symbolic to make a poem out of cuz they speak for themselves and! GOOD! it’s a BEAUTIFUL thing that you can see the poetry of it! poetry is everywhere and in some places it’s more visible, and it always is worth finding the meaning in our world around us!

BUT!

the poem being obvious doesn’t make it less worth writing. even if all you can think to do is write out what happened in the plainest words possible, if you see the symbolism in it, that’s a poem! break that baby into lines!

let’s apply some poetry techniques to this post and see if we can turn it into a poem!

there’s the obvious: let’s just shorten it and split it into lines. I’ll try to pay attention to how I split up the lines as well, since where you divide a sentence into two lines can change how it’s read or how it scans.

In my AirBNB, you

can see the imprint of one

little glow in the dark

star that has been missed

and painted over in landlord

white.

You get the themes. Just look

at it: it’s on the ceiling.

That’s already a great poem, but let’s step the complication up a notch. Let’s try rewording it and see if we like that.

Restless under a night

that is not my own, I find

myself staring at the

ceiling of my AirBNB: see

the plastic stars, sixth

glow-in-the-dark childhood

wonder of the world,

painted over and sold

to me in landlord

white.

Not bad! Which you like better is entirely up to personal taste, but why do you like the one you prefer? What elements do you think elevate the point the poet is trying to get across, and what elements do you feel are unnecessary? Why might the poet have phrased it the way they did, and what did the differences in phrasing do to the meaning of the poem?

This is an encouragement, by the way! You don’t *have* to turn something into the second type of poem if the moment itself is too profound to you. I promise there are people out there who will find the moment just as profound. Don’t be afraid that you won’t do a moment justice: every poem you write is a poem ONLY you could write, and every profound moment you experience is its own entirely personal poem that you can choose to share with the world.

In that way, even if you think it’s obvious, there is ALWAYS a point in writing a poem out of things that impact you, even if you don’t think there’s a way to elevate it into a more complex poem.

Your experiences are worth sharing.

#poetry #poetryblr #i just want more people to feel encouraged to write poetry however speaks to them

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whatsnewalycat · 1 year

Text

Hey pals, I’m editing Chapter 12 of Psychomanteum. So I come bearing gifts: a poem I found inspiration from (Fabric Swatches, Paint Samples by Neil Hilborn), link to the Spotify playlist, and a little bite sized excerpt (below cut). I will post tomorrow or Sunday, but my goal is tomorrow.

✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨

You hop up onto the kitchen counter and inquire, “Where’s the most haunted place you’ve been?”

Dieter pauses mid-brushstroke and scrunches his face up as he thinks about this, resuming when he says, “Well, hotels are always the worst. They’re so transitive, you know, all this energy coming and going constantly. And the people stuck there… they usually went intending to have a good time, a vacation or party or whatever, and something happened to them. That, or… they went in with an intention not to come out and succeeded.”

The implication unfolds in your brain, and you nod.

“Either way they seem to have unfinished business,” he shrugs and squints at the canvas, smudging paint with his thumb, “Usually they’re harmless, so it’s pretty easy to ignore,” he pauses here, clears his throat, then continues, “But in terms of the worst vibes I got, like, uhh… how scared it made me feel, it was definitely Ethan.”

Blood drains from your face and extremities, leaving you cold and dizzy.

“I—I thought—wait, really?”

He squints up at the ceiling, like he’s re-evaluating his statement, then levels his eyes with yours with a nod, “Yeah. At first, at least. Like the first night I was there, I felt him and it was,” he furrows his brow and drops his gaze to the floor, “Dark. Really fucking dark. And I was already in a bad way, y’know, I went to your place straight from the airport and you were—”

“A fucking disaster?”

“A beautiful trainwreck,” he corrects with a persuasive smile. It falters as soon as he continues, “And I just had this big fight with Annie about the divorce and, uhh, stuff, and hadn’t used blow in a day or two, just… not great,” he swallows, then shakes his head, “I think maybe… he could sense that about me. It was a warning. I remember knowing that’s what it was.”

“Oh,” you breathe. Look down at your hands. Start picking at your cuticles.

“It was hard to stay. So… I left.”

“I didn’t think it was that bad. I’m sorry. I mean, he told me that he liked you—”

“It got better, really, love. It’s fine,” he assures you, then frowns, “Wait, he told you he likes me? Did you ask him about me or something?”

“Well, yeah,” you drop your gaze to the floor, “I just wanted to—I don’t know, see if he approved, I guess.”

His head jerks back and he blinks, “Oh.”

“Yeah—he, um, told me that he always liked you,” you tilt your head at your dangling legs and chuckle, “Told me you were a triangle guy.”

Dieter lets out a light puff of laughter.

“He asked if you make me happy,” you tell him, so quiet it’s almost a whisper, then look up to study his reaction.

He pulls his paintbrush from the canvas and stares at you, his eyes soft and searching, “And?”

—————

This is such a dialogue-heavy chapter. Like… soooooooooooooooo much conversation. Which, as someone who’s generally terrible at talking to other humans, has been a challenge lol. But I hope you’ll like it. Ok thank u happy Friday bb 🥰🖤✨

#Psychomanteum

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theazkabandreamer · 5 months

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A Hopeless Romantic

The Gryffindor Common Room was quieter than usual that evening. Things were usually quieter after a full moon and Sirius missed the sight of Remus sitting in his usual chair. Remus was recuperating in the Hospital Wing and it was Peter’s turn to visit him.

Sirius was lounging on the sofa enjoying the warmth from the fire and trying to ignore the dull aches in his body from the night before. James was seated at a table hunched over, his quill scratching the parchment so fast that Sirius thought that it would catch fire.

The scratching of James’s quill and the warmth of the fire was enough to lull Sirius into a doze. Sirius was dimly aware of the scratching stopping and he thought he heard footsteps.

“Well, what do you think?”

James’s voice jolted Sirius awake and he opened his eyes to see James looking down at him like an eager puppy.

“I think you’re blocking the fire,” Sirius groaned, sitting up and James grinned sheepishly and moved, allowing the warmth to bask over Sirius once more.

“What do you think of this poem I had written about Lily Evans?” James asked, shoving a scrap of parchment in Sirius’s face.

Dotted on the parchment were several snitches with the initials L.E inside them and James had enchanted them to zoom around the parchment. They were distracting and Sirius had to strain his eyes to read what James had written.

An ode to Lily:

Her eyes are green, like a fresh Quidditch Pitch, her hair is red like a sunset,

Please be mine, we’ll age like fine wine, go out with me or I’ll be upset,

Sirius read the poem several times, trying to force down a laugh. James’s latest attempt to woo Lily was just as daft as the last one.

“So,” James said eagerly. “What do you think?”

Sirius looked up at James, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“I think you should stick to playing Quidditch, mate,” he said. “You can’t show that to Evans. She’ll laugh you out the castle, mate.”

James sat next to Sirius, looking rather glum. Sirius thought he was a little too blunt and he was going to apologise when James spoke.

“I wasn’t going to show it to her,” he said slowly. “I just thought it would help clear my head about her. You know how I’m crazy about her.”

“Well, I certainly think you two would age like fine wine,” Sirius said dryly. “You bicker like a married couple already.”

“Yeah,” James said, the cocky grin returning to his face. “I’ll think we’ll be perfect together. I’ll just have to persuade her to go out with me.”

James and Sirius spent the next hour coming up with ways in which James could win Lily over. James was coming up with over-the top suggestions which Sirius knew would fail - It was little wonder why James was struggling to win Lily over.

___

They were having a good laugh about a prank that James was planning on Severus Snape when Lily Evans came rushing over to them, her dark red hair looking windswept.

“Have you seen Lupin?” she asked the pair. “I promised him I’ll help him with his potions essay and I haven’t seen him all day. Is he alright?”

“He’s in the Hospital Wing,” Sirius said. Lily gave him a quizzical look and Sirius tried to think up an excuse but James beat him to it.

“He ate too many Fizzing Whizzbees last night and now Madam Pomfrey can’t get him off the ceiling,” James said nonchalantly. “Poor Peter has to help her get him down.”

Lily frowned at him and Sirius wondered if she bought it or not.

“Well, okay,” Lily said slowly. “I hope he gets better soon.”

Lily was about to walk away, but something caught her eye; it was the scrap of parchment that James had written his poem on. It was lying next to Sirius and the enchanted Snitches must have attracted her attention

“What’s that?” she asked picking it up.

“It’s nothing,” James said, his voice a higher pitch than usual. “Just a- a shopping list!”

But Lily paid him no attention and picked the parchment up and read the poem, a frown creasing her face that slowly disappeared. James meanwhile, was looking at Lily with utmost horror, his eyes wide as saucers. Once again, Sirius was trying to force down a laugh.

“No one’s ever compared my hair to a sunset before,” Lily said in a small voice. “Not even Sev.”

“Considering he hasn’t even touched shampoo, I don’t think Snivellus is much of an authority on hair,” Sirius said.

James looked as if he was trying his hardest not to laugh whilst Lily frowned slightly, but Sirius could see the corners of her mouth twitch up into the thinnest of smiles that rivalled Professor McGonagall’s.

“So,” James said, standing up and towering over Lily. His voice had that deeper edge to it that he used whenever he wanted to impress Lily. “Since you like it and all, will you go out with me, Evans?”

“Nice try, Potter,” Lily said with a smirk, but Sirius noted that her cheeks were a faint pink. “It takes more than poetry to win me over.”

James looked like he was about to choke.

“I wasn’t intending to give this to you, Evans,” he spluttered, his face reddening. “You just had to stick your nose in like you always do.”

“I thought it might’ve been your Transfiguration homework,” Lily said heatedly.

“What? Trying to copy off me?” James smirked. “I knew you wanted an excuse to talk to me.”

It was Lily’s turn for her face to redden, but for once she seemed speechless.

Sirius had been watching their exchange with the usual boredom setting in; James and Lily had these arguments three times a week and it would always end with the pair of them being flustered. If anyone at Hogwarts screamed married couple, it would be James and Lily.

“Look,” James sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll forget about this if you will. Is that a plan?”

“I suppose so,” Lily said quietly and James breathed a sigh of relief.

There was an awkward silence and James and Lily both refused to look at each other.

“I think you can be quite sweet when you want to,” Lily said after what seemed an eternity. “If you could show me that side of you more often, I might give you a chance.”

To Sirius’s surprise, she kissed James on the cheek before making her way to the girl’s dormitories.

After she was gone, James stood there looking as if all of his Christmases had come at once. He slowly reached up and touched the cheek that Lily kissed.

“Like I said, Prongs,” Sirius said, nudging James in the ribs. “Married couple - the pair of you.”

James didn’t seem to hear him as he continued to look awestruck. A grin started spreading across his face.

“She thinks…I can be… sweet,” he said slowly.

“Took her long enough,” Sirius said dryly. “I take it you’re not err.. upset, then?”

James looked at Sirius as if he were mad.

“She wants me to be sweet.” he said. “I can be sweet.”

“Try not to act overly conceited then, mate,” Sirius said. “And deflate your head a bit and hexing every Slytherin that moves is out of the question.”

“Yeah, I think I can do that,” James muttered before gushing about Lily.

James spent the evening talking about his chances with her and by the time he went to bed, Sirius couldn’t believe how much of a hopeless romantic his best mate was.

#Jily #James Potter #Lily Evans #Sirius Black #the marauders era

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