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hyunfilms · 6 months

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blue side of the sky (lmh) | fourteen.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.4k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, cuddles, small, sweet kisses, cute gestures of affection, whatever happens later in the chapter - it's really not what it looks like (aka minho means it), minsung heart to heart, flashback scenes - one that is cute, the other that is a bit more angry and full of emotion (some pushing involved), jisung is trying hard to be an equal middle person between his bestfriends and respect boundaries, pls prepare because the next update will not be fun ... 😅

minho: get to work okay?

you: yes!

minho: stopping by?

you: maybe.. ☺️

minho: 🥺

minho: i'm literally just down the street, why is it a 'maybe?'

minho: i never hear chan or seungmin get 'maybe's'

minho: san too......

you: oh please, how would you know!

you: chan and seungmin are my favorites, remember? same thing with san 😉

minho: bye 😞

You giggle to yourself as you tuck your phone in your pocket, knowing Minho is probably sulking after the teasing you've done. A little teasing shouldn't hurt. Though, it doesn't change the fact that you do plan on visiting him during your break and it doesn't change the fact that you really, really miss him already.

And he really, really misses you, too.

☁︎ FLASHBACK | THE OTHER NIGHT

"Y/N?" You hear your name being called, followed by a few soft knocks. You get up from the easel, halting the current watercolor painting you were working on. When you pop your head out of the room, you see Minho looking through the small windows on your door— a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Hi." You smile up at him. "What're you doing here?"

"Just wanted to see you." You step aside to let him in, bits of the cold, night air rushing in just before you shut the door close.

"Didn't you have class?" He nods, pushing the hood down from his head.

"Yeah, took a quick shower then came here." He chuckles.

"How was it?"

"Good. Tiring." He says, sitting on the edge of your bed when you return to the easel. "What're you working on?"

"Trying to paint one of the flowers from the conservatory." You giggle. "What's your house up to?"

"Nothing. When I left, Ji and Seungmin were playing this board game while Chan was just watching his show in the living room."

"I don't think I'm any better company." You laugh.

"You are."

"Did you teach today, or did Hyunjin teach?"

"Hyunjin. I had to help him figure out his last 8 count though because he didn't know how to close out the piece." You nod as you continue to paint the last strip of pink onto the canvas, setting your brush down off to the side before getting up to keep Minho company.

"Did you eat?"

"Kinda yeah, but I'm not hungry."

"You sure?" Minho nods, pulling you in between his legs. He gently wraps his arms around you and lays his head against your stomach. Minho doesn't say anything, but you can feel him relaxing in your hold— your arms wrapped around him while your hand massages the back of his head. "You okay?"

"Mhm." He mumbles. "I just really missed you." You're not sure if Minho is speaking in the moment, because his actions, the way he doesn't want to let you go, says he's speaking about the past. How he's been feeling. How he's been yearning for you just as you have for him. It's more than a simple 'i miss you.'

"I missed you, too." He looks up at you, resting his chin against your stomach. "Come, let's go and watch something, yeah?" You unwrap his arms from around your waist, slipping your hand into his to lead the way. Before you can walk further into the living room, Minho pulls you back. Your body is pressed flush against his, his hands on your hips and giving them a gentle squeeze. "What?" You shyly giggle.

"Nothing, I like looking at you, remember?" He breaks his silence, a small laugh falling from his lips. He edges forward to kiss you on the forehead, before moving down to your lips; hands squeezing at your hips again to show you how much he loves kissing you.

How much he adores you.

You only smile at him before leading the way to the couch, where Minho plops onto his side and makes some room for you to lay in front of him. There's a debate about which movie is going up, but Minho quickly waves the white flag and surrenders the decision to you. He doesn't mind watching Hocus Pocus even though it isn't remotely close to Halloween yet, he just wants to be here with you;

Holding you, keeping you close.

Feeling your warmth against him.

Minho is surprised that you even make it past halfway into the movie before you fall asleep. He chuckles to himself when he hears your soft snores amongst the Hocus Pocus background noise. He presses a few kisses to the back of your head that wakes you up for a few seconds— only for you to shift in your position and face him.

"Baby, do you want to sleep in your bed?" He whispers, hoping you're still awake enough to hear him. "I can go and let you sleep."

"No." You simply mutter against him, shifting closer to his body as if there was no way you'd separate from him at this moment.

"Okay." Is all he says before he's silently chuckling again, wrapping an arm around you to keep you safe. Because this time, he will. He can't help but press a few more feathery kisses across your face, making sure to give a little more love to your scars.

He missed you.

Really, really missed you.

And this time, he'll keep you safe. He'll protect you, choose you.

Yours.

☁︎ END

"What's the cute giggle fit for?" Mrs. Pak smiles at you and softly nudges your arm, making you shake your head.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just, happy?" You respond in a questioning tone, followed by another small giggle.

"Happy looks good on you, sweetheart." Mrs. Pak chuckles as she helps you get a big bouquet together. "Is it San?"

"San." You repeat his name. "Right, I forgot to tell you about that." You give her a small toothless smile. "Just friends."

"You talked to him?"

"I did. He was very sweet about it."

"Good. How did you do it? Tell me all about that evening."

"It was nice! He took me to that famous unagi restaurant and Peace Piece. Then, he took me to the movies for the Studio Ghibli event. We watched Spirited Away."

"That sounds like a lovely evening."

"It was." You look at her. "He took me to the beach to talk about everything, but he was very understanding about it when I told him I just wanted to stay friends. I told him I thought we worked well this way."

"It's good he was understanding. Says alot about his character and how much he respects you."

"He's truly a great friend. It hasn't been long, but San has done a lot to help me feel comfortable, especially in my own skin."

"That's good." She hands you some ribbons. "How about the one you have feelings for?" You giggle.

"The one that I have feelings for? Hm, he's one of my bestfriends." You fiddle with the ribbon and tie it nicely around the tissue paper to keep the bouquet secured. "He actually owns that café down the street. Sunday Morning."

"Oh, he does? I've gone there before, it's a nice café."

"Mm, yeah. Might pay him a little visit later." You smile at her.

"What's his name?"

"Minho. Me and Jisung met him in high school." She nods. "I'm not really sure how to explain this, but I've always felt something for Minho after I woke up. I feel connected to him on a deeper level—" You pause just as you set the bouquet aside. "Attached, almost."

"Do you guys have history?" You shrug.

"I think so. Wish I could remember. But, Minho said he'd tell me in time. He didn't wanna rush it because he didn't wanna overwhelm me." Mrs. Pak gives you a toothless smile. "I trust him. I know he'll tell me when the time is right."

"That's good. He wants to tell you, I'm sure. But, he's still thinking about you and helping you get comfortable."

"I'm just scared."

"Why scared?"

"I.. I don't know. I don't really know what to expect."

"That's okay. I'm sure he'll tell you, just like you said. When the time is right." You nod.

"Yeah." You simply agree before grabbing a vase to fix another bouquet. "I don't know how else to say it, really. But, I like him. A lot. We.." You let out a small sigh. "Things happened between us already over the past few days. It escalated so quickly? But, I don't think any of this is weird. These aren't unfamiliar feelings."

"Sometimes, the heart just knows."

"What if our history isn't the greatest?"

"Well, that's okay. We are only human, and we aren't perfect." Mrs. Pak softly says next to you. "It's up to you how you'd like to take it, but I would take it as something that can help you grow and learn. We are always learning, and there are always ways to improve. It's never a linear path, my dear." You sigh and nod, eyes darting to the customers that just walked in.

"True."

"Do I get to meet this young man?" You chuckle just as you walk away from the front, looking over your shoulder with a small smile.

"Of course. I'd love for you to meet him and my friends—" At this moment, just as you're about to greet the customers that had walked in, another body comes through the front door; eyes landing right onto you just as you shift your attention to them.

"Minho." He smiles when he hears his name slip from your lips, watching as you tuck your hair behind your ear shyly.

"Hey." He steps in and patiently waits for you to tend to the customers. You walk over in the cutest outfit, with the brightest smile on your face, and Minho can't help but melt.

"What're you doing here, sir?" You joke and he holds up a cold drink and a pastry bag.

"Since you didn't wanna visit, I thought I'd come make the walk." He hands you the drink and food. "Also wanna make sure you're eating."

"I am, or.. I will." You chuckle. "Once I get a little break." You turn to look at Mrs. Pak as she's ringing up a customer, a small smirk planted on her face. "Come." You loosely lace your fingers with his, dragging him over to Mrs. Pak for a quick little meet-and-greet. "Speaking of Minho."

"Speaking of Minho? What does that mean?" He asks, and you simply laugh it off.

"Mrs. Pak, Minho. Minho, Mrs. Pak."

"Oh, he's a handsome fella." Minho blushes, shyly acknowledging her from your side. "You know how to pick 'em." She whispers and teases you. "It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard quite a bit about you."

"Only good things I hope." He looks at you and you simply shrug. "I hope I'm not being a bother, just wanted to make sure she had something to eat." Minho scratches at his temple. "I'm sorry I didn't bring another for you, Mrs. Pak."

"It's okay." She smiles and nods at you. "Go take your break, I'll be here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, go. It's time anyway."

"I'll be right back." You reassure her even though you know she isn't looking for it. You look up at Minho and he gives her another small smile and a shy wave, rubbing his grubby hands against his jeans when he gives her one last goodbye.

"It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Pak."

"You too, handsome!"

"Please." You mutter just as you turn on your heel to walk out the door and Minho scoffs.

"Wow, someone's in a mood today."

"No." You giggle. "You didn't have to drop by, I was going to come." You start walking towards the nearest bench until you feel Minho's hand gently wrap around your wrist and pull you back towards him.

"Were you?" He pulls you close to him, hands slowly wrapping around your waist. "Cause it almost seemed like you were gonna go visit San instead." You laugh.

"Just a joke." You playfully hit him. "Besides, he's still my friend, you know? You're gonna have to get used to San." Minho purses his lips into a tight smile.

"Right." His slight jealousy leaves when he feels your lips against his cheeks, your eyes falling back onto his— glistening like they hold the entire universe in those orbs.

"But anyways, I was going to visit. Because I kinda sorta missed you?" You say so innocently, so shyly, all doe-eyed and pure.

"I missed you, too." Minho taps the tip of your nose before giving you a chaste kiss to the forehead. He laces his fingers with yours, finally bringing you over to the bench to sit and let you eat.

"What did you make today?" You chuckle when you peek into the pastry bag, finding a thick, fluffy, slice of coffee cake. "Coffee cake?" You look at him and sip on your iced vanilla latté.

"Mhm."

"You spoil me too much."

"I don't, not enough at least." You giggle.

"Shop busy?" Minho shrugs.

"Hm, it's been on and off. The usual. You?"

"Mm, nothing too overwhelming."

"That's good." You both sit for awhile, enjoying the the fresh air, the perfect breeze. Minho has his arm resting on the bench behind you, finger gently drawing shapes on your arm. "You've been feeling okay, right?"

"Mhm. I feel great." You nod and look at him. "It's been nice being able to help Mrs. Pak out."

"She seems very sweet."

"She is." You chuckle.

"You sure we can't hang out tonight?" Minho brushes the hair away from your face.

"Nope. I promised my uncle I'd have a movie night with him. It's the first night he doesn't really have something to urgently work on. Says he can finally sit back and relax for a bit." You chuckle.

"That's good. He deserves some rest." You nod, popping another piece of the coffee cake into your mouth.

"Yeah, he does. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow after pottery class?"

"Here we go again with the maybe's." He pouts, making you laugh.

"I'm sorry. We will, okay? I'll come by and wait for you."

"You sure?" You nod.

"Positive." You check your phone and sip the vanilla latté a little more, letting out a small sigh. "I should probably get back in there. Thank you for my coffee cake and drink." You stand and do a little stretch, Minho following suit.

"Of course. Just needed to make sure you were okay."

"I am, especially now." You smile. "Thanks again. I'll call you later?"

"Okay, sounds good." Minho cups your cheeks and gently caresses the surface before pulling you into a quick, but sweet kiss. "Have a good rest of your shift, okay?" He continues to look you in the eye and caress your cheek before pulling back to let you go. "Call me if you need me."

"I will." You wave him goodbye, turning on your heel to continue your shift. You take one more look at Minho, who is still waiting until you safely make it back to the register before stepping away.

That night, Minho cooks dinner for him and his roommates— setting aside the food on serving plates until they find themselves hungry and ready to eat. He gathers his own plate and pours himself some beer before walking out to the outdoor sectional in the backyard. He pulls up some videos on Youtube, occasionally watching in between bites to entertain himself while also responding to your texts. He's a bit sad since your responses are slightly delayed, but he understands that you've been wanting to spend time with Uncle Adrian, and you should be.

He just misses you, and feels a constant need, yearning, for you whenever you aren't around.

"Yo." Jisung pops out into the backyard from the house, adjusting his beanie as he plops onto the sectional next to Minho. "Just eating?"

"Mhm. I made some extras, they're on the counter."

"Thanks." Jisung leans forward and rest his arms onto his knees. "I'll probably eat a bit later. What else have you been up to?"

"Nothing really. Been kinda bored. Popped in to check on Y/N earlier while she was at work."

"She was okay?"

"Yeah, she seems happy to be there." Minho shrugs. "I met the owner, she's really sweet."

"That's good. Where is Y/N?"

"Movie night with Uncle Adrian." Jisung nods.

"I haven't really texted her today, I've been swamped at work." Jisung lets out a small sigh. "You don't have class today?" He shakes his head.

"Nope."

"Wanna do something then? Where's Channie and Seungmo?"

"Like what? Seungmin is taking a nap in his room and Chan hasn't been home."

"Damn, nevermind then."

"We can hop on FIFA after I eat?" Minho asks him, trying to keep him entertained for tonight.

"Okay." Jisung responds right before nodding towards Minho's phone. "What're you watching?"

"I've been trying to perfect this recipe for awhile, so I'm trying to see how other people bake it." Jisung watches, even though he has no interest in baking or cooking whatsoever. But, it doesn't last long when he's easily distracted by Minho's text tone all of a sudden going off.

One text,

and another,

and another.

He can't help but be a little nosy to see who's blowing up his phone. Surprisingly, it isn't you. And this is the shit Jisung was afraid of.

"Dude." Jisung furrows his brows at Minho's phone, watching the un-named number pop up a few times. Even though it no longer has a name to it, Jisung knows.

"What?"

"Okay, seriously. Can we talk about this?" Jisung pauses the video for Minho before pointing at the texts coming through.

"Shit. It's Kat." Minho groans. "It's really not what it looks like though." He sighs and picks up his phone, briefly scrolling through the angry texts from Kat. All of a sudden. "I cut it off with her completely awhile ago and blocked her number. She's texting from someone else's phone."

"Okay, but you can't say you're done with her and keep the line open. Block that too and be done with it. She's obviously going to keep creating issues if she feels like you'll keep letting her in."

"I'm not letting her in, okay? It's done. Completely."

"Please don't repeat your behavior, for the love of god. I know you hate the nagging. But, how am I supposed to react when Kat is still popping up on your phone even though you claimed you were done with her before?" Minho groans a bit and lays back on the outdoor sectional.

"I really have no intentions of going back. I swear I haven't reached out to her. This is the first time she's trying to text me again on someone else's phone, I'm not even sure why she's texting me all angry." Jisung watches as Minho texts away and asks for her to stop reaching out, blocking the number and deleting the thread shortly afterwards.

"Swear on our friendship?" Jisung asks.

"Swear. I don't know where this is coming from." Jisung sighs a bit and shrinks back into his seat.

"I just.. I don't know. I think we're all just scared about you reverting back to your old ways. It takes two to tango, but Kat has always played a big part in this." Minho sighs.

"I know, I know. I hear you."

"Have you even told Y/N? Because I know you're trying to get back together with her. But, I think that's a crucial step that you need to take first no matter how it makes everything turn out. It'll need some time and I think that's much needed. Not saying I don't ever want you to stop proving yourself and try again, but I think you both need the time to heal."

"I do plan to tell her."

"Alone?"

"It's better if I do."

"When are you going to tell her?" Minhi shrugs at the question and lets out another sigh.

"Tomorrow." Minho solidifies the thought because even though it will kill him to do so, it’s time for him to be honest about it.

"Okay. I just need you to tell her before it's too late, or if she somehow finds out through word of mouth. It'll be harder for her, and it could seriously fuck everything up." Jisung looks up at Minho and he can't even lie, he feels his heart ache a bit seeing how distraught and conflicted he is. He knows he loves you, and that has never changed. He just made the wrong choices.

"I.. I know. I'm going to." Minho swallows the lump in his throat before shifting his attention to Jisung. "I'm sorry."

"I'm just afraid." Jisung says lowly. "It's not that I don't trust you to do better, I just hate seeing her hurt. She's been through so much, and the whole reason I did this was because I just wanted to give her time." Jisung shrugs. "Time to get used to the world and being in it again. I didn't want to see her shrink and hide from the world again. That's all."

"I made some really dumb mistakes, but I wouldn't hurt her. Not again. I'm learning from all of that, and I don't ever wanna go back."

"Yeah." Is all Jisung responds with because of course he wants to trust him. But, he'd be lying if he said he does fully. He can't. Not after he sees Minho prove himself a bit more. "You're going to tell her about that night too, right?"

"Yeah, I have to. I'm sorry, I really am." Minho repeats.

"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry I haven't really been there for you but.. Y/N." He looks at Minho and shrugs. "Maybe time would be really good for the both of you."

"I understand. I really do. However this pans out, I'll be there for her. I'll respect her space and give her all the time she needs." Minho's thoughts shift back to that night, his heart wrenching thinking about it because not only had he broken up with you once over Kat, but he acted like he chose her that night. When in reality, that was never the case. You got back together and things seemed great— until that very night. The argument was huge, Minho can still hear the yelling repeating in his head; over and over again like a fucking siren.

You got back together with him because you trusted him to love you, to protect you and keep you safe.

But, he didn't. He didn't protect you, keep you safe. He acted like he chose her that night.

He let you leave even though he shouldn't have.

"Either way— please." Jisung says close to a whisper. "All I ask is that you're sure this time. No more playing with her emotions, no more second-guessing her. Please mean it."

☁︎ FLASHBACK | SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

When Jisung is finally able to get you to bed so that you can take a nap, he leaves a note saying he'll be back and that he's grabbing some food for you to eat later.

Which, isn't entirely a lie. But, he has other plans right now.

He's fuming as he pulls off to the side of the curb, barely putting the car in park before he's hopping out and racing to the apartment.

"The hell is wrong with you?!" Jisung storms into the shared apartment and pushes Minho.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Minho pushes him back. "Not today, Jisung. I'm not doing this—"

"No, you don't get to do that. I just left Y/N after she's been crying for hours over you!"

"Am I fucking wrong to be honest?! I just think we need some time apart to figure things out."

"Figure things out? You've clearly figured things out. If I only knew you'd pull this and leave her for somebody else, I wouldn't have let this shit happen in the first place." Jisung furrows his brows at him and shakes his head. "You don't even look like you care—"

"Of course I do!" Minho's tone raises. "God, it was the fucking hardest thing to do! Of course I care about her, that's why I didn't wanna hurt her more!"

"Then why do it!" Jisung yells back.

"I don't know!" It falls silent between the two before Minho lets out a breath and runs his hand through his hair. "I don't know what to tell you. I really tried not to, but it just wasn't happening. It wasn't working." Jisung scoffs.

"All because of Kat?" Silence, again. "What the hell has Kat given you that Y/N hasn't?" More silence. "Right."

"I'm sorry." Minho says lowly. "I love Y/N, I do. I just haven't felt in love with her for awhile now. I don't really know what it is, I thought maybe—"

"Bullshit! Not with the way you easily disposed of her and made her feel replaceable." Jisung shakes his head. "You don't get to say shit. There's gonna be a day when you realize that tossing your relationship over one girl wasn't worth it, but I hope you don't come crawling back. Y/N is worth way more than that." Jisung begins to walk away but comes back to face Minho once more, stepping closer towards him. "I trusted you. I really trusted you to take care of her and be there for her. I would've understood if you two needed some time apart, but never would I have imagined that you'd do it over another girl." Jisung probably sound so ridiculous calling his bestfriend out, but what can he say? He really is upset, and he really did trust Minho to take care of you. There wasn't a single thing that made Jisung think he'd ever leave your side. Sure, he noticed Minho getting close to Kat, but he didn't think it'd get to the point of this—

Of hurting you, leaving you;

Making you think you were disposable. Replaceable. Not worthy enough to stay.

Because you are worthy, you are all the amazing things and then some. If it's anybody who would know, it's Jisung. You've always been his other half, and he knows how big your heart is. You've always put everyone else before yourself, and you've always given your all— loved harder than anybody else has loved.

Minho was making a mistake.

But Minho is also his bestfriend, and he knows he would prefer for him to be honest. He wouldn't want him to go behind your back, god no. He just doesn't understand Minho's thinking process, and maybe he never will.

Wasn't this just a phase?

Was it really worth throwing it all away to see if something new would make him happy?

Maybe.

Jisung doesn't really understand it entirely.

What he does know is that he's angry at Minho, and he's hurting to see you cry. What he does know is that he can't really look at Minho right now, and he can't really talk to him. What he does know is that he may not be able to talk to him properly for awhile.

"What just happened here?" Chan asks, confused as he walks through the door. He feels the tension already, and he's not sure how to react. He's barely seen Minho and Jisung like this.

"I don't know, ask him. Maybe he'll tell you more." Jisung diverts his attention to Chan briefly before returning to Minho. "Whatever. Do you, dude. But, keep your bullshit away from Y/N."

☁︎ END

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studioghibelli · 4 months

Text

lonely like me- joel miller x reader series

— ;; chapter one, tombstone

summary: joel miller has wrapped himself in an impenetrable wall of thorns, where nothing of seriousness can ever get to him. you have spent the last five years running from a bloody, violent past, thirsty for revenge. when two unstoppable, stubborn, roughed up forces meet, something soft and unspoken begins to ensue.

warnings: no use of y/n, some original characters, sort of enemies (the bickering type) to lovers, cowboyjoel!au, wild west!au, orphaned reader, bounty hunter!reader, hefty age gap (20s/50s), female reader, I am basically taking so many creative liberties this is pretty much my own story with joel miller in it i am so sorry people, probably going to be a slow burn, tragic backstory, will update as i go <3 lmk if i missed anything!

rating: r, 18+ mdni

word count: 4.2k

note: i will be making a spotify playlist for this eventually. this is my first series pretty much ever, so any comments, recommendations, feedback, critiques are all welcome- so please feel free to comment them! thank you kindly my friends.

The wind was howling, like a pack of grieving wolves.

Beneath the canopy of Texas' barren wasteland, the night sky was aflame with twinkling slivers of white, perfectly painted atop the canvas of navy as the promise of winter soon approached.

You couldn’t remember the last time your back wasn’t aching. With the sudden chill that had blanketed itself over the land, your bones cried out for help more and more with each passing day. You were too young to hurt like this, too young to know a pain like this.

But life was a brutal teacher, and you knew there was no other way through it but to hurt with no respite. A desert with no oasis.

Your horse whinnied beneath you, the leather saddle cool to the touch of your naked hands.

“It’s alright, boy. Only got a day of ridin' left. Just a bit longer and you’ll get all the barley you want.” He liked this answer, sweeping his head to the right with a deep huff out of his nostrils. His heavy hooves continued imprinting against the soft brown earth of the ground beneath.

Fritz was your father’s horse, before the attack. Before you were left with nothing but a wad of cash, a fading Stetson, and an old, stubborn steed. Despite his head strong nature and aging body, Fritz was still a beautiful sight to behold. A buckskin American Quarter with white socks on each leg, accompanied by a thick, luscious black mane and a matching tail that was always brushed out and braided- courtesy of you. Your daddy had, supposedly, wrestled him in the deserts of New Mexico when the both of them were just two young bucks, taming him then and there. A bond was formed, a silent sort of partnership that only a gun slinger and their horse can have.

Well, that's how the story goes, anyway. You were never too sure how true it was.

He still had a wild streak in him, after all these years, after all this suffering. Just like you.

You looked up at the moon. It hung from its dainty piece of silver twine, twinkling against the backdrop of dusk. It had always been a sight to behold in your eyes, a celestial entity so unobtainable, yet one you loved so dearly, so deeply.

An owl hooted to your left, and you heard the leaves of the surrounding vegetation dance against the smoothing rhythm of the harmonic gale.

"We've been out on our own for too long, boy." You whispered to Fritz. He pulled against the leather reigns slightly, and you saw where his head was turning. About two miles south you saw lights flickering. A town. A town much closer than your original stopping point.

"Always were the ones with brains, weren't ya?" You patted his head, steering him in a new direction. "A few days off track won't hurt." Fritz was silent at the sound of your voice, clopping quietly and huffing every so often towards the vibrant town.

As you drew closer you could hear buildings bustling with music, women singing songs and men slamming their cups of beer together, frothy foam clinging to the sides. A sign was posted above the entrance:

TOMBSTONE

Something about this place sounded awfully familiar, but you just swallowed it down, eyes hellbent and searching for the nearest stable. Out there, far off in the distance, stood a creaking barn you figured Fritz would be safe resting in.

Clopping and clacking to the entrance, you saw a tubby man with a newsboy cap on, a cigar hanging beneath a thick, red moustache.

"What can I do ya' fer, ma'am?"

"Need to board him. Got any room?" You asked, pulling yourself off your worn saddle with a hefty sigh. Oh, how your body ached.

"Yeah, I got room." He eyed you and your horse, sniffing. "It'll be $15 dollars for the week."

With an eyebrow slowly raised, you pointed towards the sign. "Says right there it's $10. You tryna bleed me dry?"

His eyes, aged and graying atop the leathery mask of skin he wore, widened with surprise. "Now I ain't never met a girl on her own that can read."

"Now you have. I'll settle on giving you $8, since you tried to play me."

He gave a thick shrug of his shoulders, giving in to your offer. "Fair 'nuff. He gets barley twice a day, dollar extra fer some apples. Fresh hay every two days, can throw in a saddle at the end, for twenty extra, if ya' want."

"Sounds good. Hear that, boy?" You turned to Fritz, gently running your fingers down his dusty muzzle. "Just like I said. All the barley you want." Your loyal steed nudged against your chest, before a thinning, weakly looking stableboy took him in to the darkening barn.

"What's your name anyway, miss?" The old man asked, sitting back down in his chair as you grabbed your bag.

"Don't got one anymore." You mumbled, thumbing through your satchel.

"Everybody's got one."

You ignored him.

"This should cover it. Take care of my boy. I'll give you enough for an apple a day." Stuffing the cash in his hand you turned on your heel, before sweeping back to look at him. "And, trust me, I will know if you're skimpin' on those damn apples." You rested your hand on the holster to your side, fingers brushing the pearlescent handle of your Colt. It was a threat, not a warning.

The man tilted his cap, nodding. "I ain't got no doubt about it, miss."

You walked down the dirty road, the thick air burning your nostrils. It smelled like manure, liquor, and lumber. The streets were nearly barren, except the occasional prostitute smoking outside a door, or a fight in a dark alley you had no business standing around to watch.

Just to the corner, you saw the swinging doors of a decaying saloon, falling apart at the corners, and made your way inside. There was an empty seat at the bar that you made a straight B line for. Beside the empty chair sat a broad man in a leather jacket, head bowed, black rim of his Stetson covering a brow you figured was laced tight, thinking about whatever guilt and bad blood inevitably plagued him.

Your eyes raked down his back, his jacket stretched tightly against it. Clearing your throat, ignoring the feeling which stirred within you just at the sight of this man's backside, you sat beside him, ushering the bartender over.

The smell of cigarette smoke, smooth whiskey, and warm, nutty oak seeped in through your nostrils. You realized it was him. The nameless, faceless man who had not so much as looked to the side, despite feeling your body shift beside his into the seat.

"Well hello there, pretty lady. What can I getcha' this fine Thursday?"

"It's Thursday?" You asked incredulously, studying the bottles behind him.

The bartender, a boy about your age with slicked back blonde locks and a thin patch of hair on his chin laughed at your surprise, nodding. "Yes ma'am. Been out on the road for long?"

You scoffed to yourself. The man beside you twitched his chin a bit, but his face stayed covered by his thick shoulder, eyes still behind the darkness of the shadow his well-fitted, worn, aged hat provided.

"How'd you tell I've been out on my own?" Your words were laced with sarcasm.

You had seen better, brighter days.

When your skin wasn't caked by the thick, dry southern dust, when you wore handmade, tailored dresses the color of lilies and sea foam, when your hair was always clean and curled courtesy of your mama, when you were young and alive and pure and clean. A life you felt was more of a theory, a concept, rather than a memory. A story you had never lived, not for many years. Not since you were a young, naive little girl, forced to live out on her own. Forced to witness the bloody walls, dripping knives, rippling gun shots. Forced to live a waking nightmare.

Now here you were. Cotton trousers stained by mud and tea, vest tearing away at the seams. You barely recognized yourself, whenever you caught a glimpse in a flowing stream or dirty window. You didn't think you were pretty anymore, not like you used to be. But you'd rather take the toughness you had acquired, the grit and the anger you held, over being pretty, soft, feminine.

Well, you were still trying to convince yourself of that.

"You okay?" The bartenders voice snapped you out, and you looked up at him.

"Just a whiskey and sarsaparilla. I like mixing 'em." You explained, and the boy nodded once, turning on his heel to work whatever magic he knew.

The shrouded figure beside you scoffed. "Cowboys don't mix their shit." He grunted out.

Your voice caught in your throat before you could throw back an insult, an explanation, anything. He sounded..... delicious. Angry, tough, worn by life, raspy and rough and.... and your eyes dropped down to his hand, wrapped around the glass of his double shot of what you could only assume was Jim Beam or Maker's. His nails were caked with dirt, palms wide and rough, leathered up by what you figured were decades of hard work. You couldn't see his face, but you knew by his hands that whatever was beneath must have been real nice to look at.

For what felt like the hundredth time, you cleared your throat. "I ain't no cowboy." You finally mumbled, voice tired like a petulant child's.

He chuckled sweetly, lifting his cup up to his lips and downing it in one thick gulp. "Sure do look like one."

"Well, I'm not."

"Just playin' dress up then?"

You rolled your eyes, the bartender handing you an open glass bottle of sarsaparilla and a shot of amber hued liquid. "It's all I had."

And that's when he looked up. You glanced over, not expecting to see that.

Tanned skin, dark eyes, perfect lips. A thick moustache, surrounded by scruffy, graying facial hair. You saw a stray curl fall from the brim of his hat, brown and laced with salty white streaks. His jaw was sharp and tempting, lips wet from his tongue, and his gaze was steady, confident. He was the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes on. Time had done him well, the clock had been good to him. He was old, much older than you, no doubt about it, but still so alluring, mysterious, delicious,

"Holy shit." You found yourself whispering.

"Yeah," he grunted while flicking his fingers, ordering another round, "I have that effect on women."

"I'm not a woman. I'm a cowboy, remember?"

"Does this cowboy have a name?" He asked, eyeing you slowly.

"Not one she plans on tellin' you."

He gave a deep shrug of his shoulders, twirling the new cup of liquid between his fingers, before nursing a slow sip. "Mine's Joel." He grunted after a long moment of turning something or another over in his head.

"You said you stole?" You asked, the music of the live band behind your backs playing up louder.

The man rolled his dark eyes, the orbs dripping with honeyed amber, before looking at you. "J-O-E-L. My name is Joel."

"Oh." You said in a moment of understanding. You brought the cup of your mixed liquid towards your mouth, slowly sipping at it. "Well now I just feel like I'm being rude, not telling you mine."

"You are pretty rude, yeah." He agreed, a burning smirk planted on top of his thin lips.

"Well, just for that, I'm not telling you now. You ruined it." Your arms crossed over your stomach, eyebrows stitched together in a grimace.

"Only agreein' with ya. I guess I'll have to come up with my own name then."

"For me?"

He nodded.

"Like what? Just pull one outta your ass? Kate? Jane?"

Joel laughed a deep laugh from his chest. "You're dumber than a bag of rocks, aint'cha?"

Your cheeks heated up, out of embarrassment or anger, you were unsure. "Could be. Not as dumb as you though. J-O-E-L."

"I was thinkin'.... hmmm." He studied your face, and you felt that foreign stir brewing back inside your belly. He traced your features. You wondered what he was thinking. Joel had a light smirk dancing across his mouth, eyes darkening ever so slightly with every new inch of skin on your face he discovered. He poked and prodded you with his gaze, and you suddenly had the urge to cover up. It was like he was undressing you, slithering deep into your soul, unearthing and unlocking secrets you had never confessed to anyone before.

"Yeah, those names'll suit you for now."

"What will?"

"Just have to wait and see."

"Well you don't have much longer to confess. I'm heading out tomorrow." You lied.

Joel nodded. "I am too. Where you headed?"

"West."

"What's West?" He asked, stirring the remaining liquid in his cup.

"Work."

"'S that so? What you do for work?"

You stared at the ridges in the wooden table, white knuckling the edge. Memories you wished to repress came swimming up to the surface of your mind. The metallic taste of blood, the smell of salty tears. Begs and pleas and I'll give you anything you wants and please, just give me some times. Your jaw clenched. Joel took notice.

"I hunt." You finally answered. It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Hunt what?" Joel asked, curiosity sparking within him.

You pointed to a few torn posters on the wall with your head.

One, yellowing at the edges with browning letters stood out amongst them all.

HARVEY JONES, 58 YEARS OLD

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE FOR:

MURDER, ARSON, KIDNAPPING.

$5,000 REWARD

"People like that." You muttered, staring at his picture.

Harvey had an old and scarred face, tanned and rough. His right cheek looked like a dog had gotten ahold of him, covered by patchy, gnarled facial hair, and his eyes were cruel, painted through with rage by the steady hand of time, no doubt a victim to the tempestuous waves of life. You swallowed, and Joel watched your eyes gloss over with something he had become well acquainted with: Rage.

"You think he's campin' out West, too?" Joel asked, eyes cemented to the side profile of your face. God damn, were you pretty, he thought. A firecracker.

You nodded slowly. "Wyoming."

"That's where I'm headed."

"What're you running from, Joel?"

"Not runnin' from nothing. Searchin' for my brother, 's all."

You shook your head, eyes meeting his. "Everybody's running from something."

Joel sat in silence, finishing his drink. "I have a proposition for you."

"I'm not sleepin' with you." You grumbled into your cup, staring at him from behind the rim.

"Not what I was gonna ask. Nice to know that's where your pretty little head went." He snickered, waving for another drink. Poor bartender, you thought, he must be five drinks in already. You saw the cups piling around him. Damn, could he hold his liquor. The mark of a real man, your pops always used to say.

"What's this proposition then, Cowboy Joel?"

"I go with you, out West. Keep you safe, help you find that Harvey man. I get half the reward for takin' care of you."

"I don't need some disgusting, stinky man takin' care of me."

Joel laughed, that chesty, deep, gorgeous laugh once again, his neck falling back. "Now I know I ain't stinky, darlin'."

Darlin'. That must have been the name. Your cheeks lit with the flame of.... well, something you didn't quite have the name for.

"And you know I ain't no fool." He continued, his voice settling into a sturdy sort of seriousness. "But you don't look like you've been too well out there on your own. How old are those clothes? Four months? Five? Covered in dirt, even though you wash them weekly. Right? Am I gettin' somewhere with this? Your cheeks are covered in scratches. It's rough out there. Rough for any man on his own, not jus' you." Joel raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to nod. And nod you did. You could feel bitter hot tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away, continuing your silent sitting.

"Now, let me see you there safe, make sure you get that man for whatever he did to you, and we can go our separate ways. Like nothin' ever happened. Hell, I'd settle for less than half- If I end up likin' you some."

"Okay." You whispered. "Okay." You repeated, louder this time.

"You got a room here for the night?"

You shook your head no. "I just got here, 'n hour or so ago."

"Want to join me in mine?"

"I said I'm not going to sleep with you-"

Joel cut you off. "That's not what I'm askin'. I don't want to see you naked." You narrowed your eyes, for some reason feeling a bit deflated by that comment. "Just figured it'll give you someplace to wash off. Got a tub in mine, you can go up there and get some of that dirt off. I'll stay down here, if it'd make you feel any better."

You saw him pull a key from his back pocket, pushing it towards you. You stared at the little piece of metal before taking it, glancing up at him.

"Do you... do you know if any clothes shops are open 'round here?" You finally asked, almost sheepishly.

"Think there's one down the road, to the left. Could still be open."

You stuffed the key in your bra. "What's the room number?"

"Twelve."

You gave him a nod, pushing your way out of the saloon, feeling the fresh night air hit your cheeks. You gasped for breath, taking in the sensation of the earth soaking its way into your lungs, filling you to the brim with the crisp night. You hadn't realized how hot it was in there, how stifled your chest had become.

"Dammit." You grunted to yourself, leaning the palms of your hands on your knees as you bent over. These weird feelings? Yeah. Not good. "Dammit. Dammit!" You snapped again, this time louder. Your worn boot kicked a pebble across the street, hearing it clang against the metal of a water trough. "Fuckin' stupid asshole."

You walked the directions he had given you, finding a little clothes shop with the lights still on. You ratted your knuckled against the door as you walked in. A pretty lady, about the age of this Joel you had just met, smiled at you from behind the counter, not deterred by your appearance.

"Howdy! Looking for some new clothes?" She chirped, a sweet song-like quality tugging at her words.

"Yes ma'am. Something nice."

"You a rider?" She asked.

"I am, yes ma'am I'm on the road a lot. Need something that lets me move freely." You explained curtly, not meaning to seem so standoffish.

"Have you ever tried a riding skirt? Just got a new shipment in, made from the finest cow hide." She guided you towards a mannequin, showing you the skirt.

It was ankle length and looked heavy, but you felt a shimmer in your eyes once you saw it. The hide was light brown, patches of white and black spots littered throughout. Must have been a pretty cow. You'd look like a proper lady wearing one of these, you thought, a bit like you used to. You shook the thought away. No. You needed tough. Rough.

"I, uh-" You rubbed the back of your neck. "I think I'll just settle for some pants."

"Sure! These are new." She held up a pair of trousers, simple and black, a pair you knew would fit you nice and well.

"Those'll do." You smiled, gently grabbing them from her. She caught your eye, grinning.

"Good! Now we're gettin' somewhere. I think this would look great together." The pretty lady held up a long sleeved white shirt with a black bow, reminiscent of a bolo tie, around the collar. Alongside it, there stood a nice, deep maroon vest, silver embellished buttons lining the middle, a pretty frill at the hems.

"That's pretty." You admitted, grabbing it from her.

"You need a new holster? Boots? Belt?"

"Well, might as well just get it all." You joked, eliciting a laugh from her.

You settled on a thick belt that matched the vest, a silver buckle in the middle with deep florals carved into the material, a real piece of turquoise jutting out in the middle. Your holster was falling apart, so you grabbed on that matched the belt, and a pair of new leather boots that ached when you tried them on. All good boots have to be worn in, you thought, it'll be worth the blisters.

"How about a hat-"

"No!" You rushed out, a bit too brutally, and she took a step back with her hands raised defensively. You coughed a bit, repeating yourself much softer. "No. No thank you, I mean. This hat was my-... it's a, uh, it's a family hat."

There was a long sort of silence, thick and awkward, the kind you hated the most. "Oh, do you have some sort of, like... sleeping shirt?"

"I've got a nightgown."

Grudgingly, you accepted, taking the soft, feminine fabric from her. It was white, with a dainty bow at the low collar. It was... cute. Something the old you would have worn. Something that sweet, pretty little thing of a girl you once were would have swooned over. It filled you with a twinge of pain.

"Thank you." You spoke earnestly.

She smiled, nodding a bit, before taking you to the register. "It'll be $80."

"$80?" You repeated.

"A bit too much for you?"

You thumbed through the wad of cash in your satchel, handing her $100. "No, it isn't enough. You could be making bank in here, lady." You scooped up the bag your new clothes were in, turning to walk towards the door. "Keep the change."

She giggled a giddy laugh, bidding you a sweet and meaningful farewell, before you made your way to the inn, searching for this mysterious door 12.

Once you finally found it, you unlocked it with ease, the lamp on the beside table soon flickering awake with golden life as you flipped it on. The room smelled like Joel. Like wood, smoke, whiskey. It smelled good. You felt your skin prick with goosebumps, and you shook it out of your head. A man has never had this sort of effect on you. You groaned, stuffing your face in the palms of your hot hands.

This was business. Business. Business. Business. That's all it was. All it ever would be. All you would ever let it be.

The bath in the corner was already full with water, untouched, a bar of soap on the table beside it. You stripped, allowing the cold water to soon engulf you as you let out a little yelp, the temperature making your bones ache even more. Your nipples hardened painfully, and you gave one a twist, feeling some odd sort of relief inside of you, caused by that stupid oaf down at the bar.

"God damned fucking water." You grumbled as it sloshed against your face, directing your energy towards being annoyed, before reaching for the bar of soap. You must have scrubbed every inch of your skin, for at least an hour, before you felt clean enough to get out. The water was swirling with dirt and soap suds, and you winced at the sight. Were you really that dirty? You felt embarrassed.

There was a knock at the door. Joel.

You rushed to dry off and threw the nightgown over your head, before he stepped in with a hand over his eyes.

"Now, I ain't tryna' get a peak if you're still naked." He felt around with his free hand, closing the door with a kick of his leg. Something about that made you feel.... some sort of way.

"I'm not naked." You grumbled, and he let his hand drop.

"Well, I didn't take you for the nightgown type. Did you buy that for me?" He asked smugly, his fingers moving to the buttons of his vest.

You rolled your eyes. "No, I didn't." You spat matter-of-factly, taking every ounce of willpower to turn your back to him as he unclothed himself.

"Mhm. Well, better get a good sleep tonight, darlin'. Got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

You shuffled your way to bed, refusing to look his way, trying to ignore the new name he had brandished you with, and climbed under the wool blankets, keeping as many feet away from him as possible. You felt his weight shifting against the hard mattress beneath you once he was undressed, the blanket shuffling. You knew his back was turned to yours, obliging your unspoken wish for space. As you stared at the wall, you felt yourself begin feeling silently thankful for a change of pace from the cold, hard ground.

You fell asleep to the lullaby of his snores.

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heeversee · 4 months

Text

Heeversee Presents ✨

Yander Au

Chapter 01

Genre: dark romance

Mention of blood.

yander, obsessed, mafia, Stalker heeseung.

Damn it's a lot. For my anons who requested me to add all these in one. So here it is.

Please leave if you're uncomfortable with all these things.

Spotify playlist

Criminal love (by enhypen)

The night we met (by lord Huron)

Chaccone (by enhypen)

Do I wanna know (by Arctic monkeys)

Given-taken (by enhypen)

Maniac (by stray kids)

Gasoline (by Halsey)

(⁠/⁠¯⁠◡⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠◡⁠)⁠/⁠¯⁠ ⁠~⁠ ⁠┻⁠━⁠┻............乁⁠༼⁠☯⁠‿⁠☯⁠✿⁠༽⁠ㄏ

You gasp

"what is happening here" you watch with your favourite sketch book burning.

"ohhh dear dear, my hand slipped" you heard a very annoying voice.

You silently pick your half burnt sketch book and glare at the bunch of dumb heads who bully you.

Bulling wasn't new for you. You were bullied all along your school life. Even now in your workplace.

And suddenly one day you found yourself not wanting to go to work. You were tired of fighting with the bullies, after a week of thinking about your detroiting mental health you decided to give your resignation letter and live your life.

3 months later

The bells jingle indicating above your head as your enter your safe place, the art shop. The smell of panits and canvas lingering in the air.

You took everything you needed but the last thing that was missing was red paint. You went to the paint corner to find a single tube of big red paint lying on the top shelf.

You run towards the shelf trying to reach the tube, you felt warmth on your back and a very veiny hand reaching the tube. You turn to see a tall man with his face covered by hoodie. All you could see was looming dark shadow.

"umm can I take that" you muttered pointing out the red tube.

The hooded man took a sharp breath which sacred you thinking that you could have made him angry

"ummm, I'm sorry. It's okay, it's okay I'll find the paint in another store" I laughed akwardly.

He suddenly held my hand and handed me the tube.

I tilt my head "can I take it?" I question softly

He nods his head once and that was enough to make me smile for once in last three months.

I bowed, thanking him and left the shop after billing.

Heeseung

He watches you walking to your apartment. Heeseung quickly reach to his room and watching you through the window, exactly opposite of your apartment He watchs you twirl around in your space happily.

That's all heeseung has done.

Watch.

All he has done is watching you from afar. He wishes to kiss you, hold you into his arms, cook for you, buy you paint and watch you paint for hours. But all he has done is watch you from afar.

*distant muffling sounds*

"ahh" he sighs. "I totally forgot about you" he turns around and pulls out a sword hanging on the wall. He unsheaths the sword and the dried blood covering the entire sword.

He watches the girls who bullied you tied up with their mouth stiched witch thick red wire. Blood flowing from their mouths as they cry.

"let's see.... What do i add in my collection now...." He swirls the sword.

"your blood" heeseung laughs like a maniac after killing the three girls.

He collects the blood in a long tube.

As he walks to the window blood pooling in his room. He orders the men standing beside the door to clean and dispose the bodies

He closes the cap and watches you paint the canvas red from his window.

"maybe I'll gift it to you someday. My little one."

Idk how to actually feel about this. I'm still thinking about what twist to make in this series.

A new day a new me 😂

I hope you all like this.

Fuck I'm so nervous.

Thank you for you all anons for comforting me. I hope to live a long life.

Thank you and love you 🎀🪐

#enha #enhypen #kpop #engene #heeseung #heeseung fanfic #lee heeseung fanfic #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #heeversee

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pearbunny · 2 months

Text

the bucket list ✘ [thirteen]

series masterlist | prev | next [ ❀ spotify playlist]

summary: Fly to Korea. Check. Buy a bouquet of flowers for a stranger. Check. Have said stranger come along with you to accomplish your bucket list? Well that wasn’t on the list, but falling in love was.

pairing: han jisung x afab!reader

genre: 18+ [MDNI] strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, fluff, angst, comfort, eventual smut.

general warnings: tourist!mc, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, nudity, cursing, mentions of death in later chapters.

word count: 5.5k

chapter content: bittersweet. everything is bitter sweet. extremely brief mention of deceased loved ones. mc and jisung go to an aquarium! angst hidden behind fluff! Conversation about fate/destiny, inyeon.

You move slowly as you start to repack your luggage for the trip back home. You’re a little tired from the dinner party last night which is why you’re taking your time with the task, but in reality it’s because the whole thing is kind of saddening. As you place your clothes in your packing cubes, you set aside the clothes you plan to wear on the plane tomorrow morning.

Jisung knocks on the doorframe, peeking his head in. “Need any help?”

You give him a small chuckle, looking up at him from your spot in the middle of the floor. “You don’t have to knock, it’s your room.”

Jisung enters the room and sits on his bed, moving aside the clothes you laid out. “Well, what if you were indecent or something?” The tiniest smirk plays at his lips, finding his own joke oh-so-hilarious.

With a deadpan stare, you playfully ball up a shirt and throw it at him, “Oh, like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

Jisung laughs and catches the shirt, folding it neatly and setting it aside soon after. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” Your eyes drift back to your suitcase and your hands go back to folding items to pack. “I mean, I do know. I don’t wanna go back home.” You chuckle sadly, shrugging your shoulders in defeat.

Jisung looks at you with a small smile on his lips. He doesn’t want you to go home either; he wants to say, ‘then don’t’, but he doesn’t need to. You know that's what he wants to say, and you both know that he can’t say it. Instead, he leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees, bringing himself closer to you. “Well, you’re still here, so let’s not waste it, yeah?”

You match his smile and nod your head, placing your hands in your lap. “Okay, yeah. Can we…” You pause and think about your bucket list. When you remember a specific to-do list item, your smile wides and you release a small giggle. “Can we find a fountain to make a wish at?”

“Yes, let's make a date of it.” Jisung places his hands on his thighs, bracing himself as he pushes himself off the bed. He takes a step towards your sitting form and extends both hands to you, palms up.

You place your hands in his with a large smile on your face, eyes soft as you look up at him. Your head had been swimming in circles, thinking about your flight home, leaving Korea behind, leaving Jisung behind, but now, you’re relieved, choosing to only worry and think about today, not the flight home tomorrow morning.

“So,” You pause your speech to squeeze Jisung’s hand, fingers laced with yours. The date was planned loosely, both of you decided to take advantage of the beautiful day, opting to set aside the car for a nice walk.

You wore a flowy white midi-skirt with a slightly oversized graphic white tee-shirt, tied to be cropped and cinched at your waist. Your hair up in a messy bun with a claw clip, a canvas tote bag hanging on your shoulder carrying not only your essentials, but a light brown knit cardigan just in case it got cold in the evening.

Jisung wore an open, unbuttoned khaki collared shirt, a loose white tee underneath, with black linen slacks, cuffed at the ankles. A simple casio watch on his wrist, a silver ring on his index finger, and a small pendant-free chain around his neck. Both of you had on some white old beaten up sneakers, deciding to err on the side of comfort for the last day.

“So?” Jisung starts to swing your linked hands together, looking at you with a gummy bright smile.

“Where are we going?” You both come to a stop at the corner of the street, a small crowd of people joining you to wait for the pedestrian light.

“Well, after food, I wanted to take you to the aquarium,” Jisung shrugs nonchalantly, as if there was no pressure into the situation. You, however, knew how much Jisung loved animals through the little facts he would sprinkle into your conversations, the books on his shelf about animals, the small wolf figurine on his desk. Maybe it didn’t mean much to him, but you were thankful that he was willing to share this time and hobby with you.

When you and Jisung finish at a small Japanese restaurant, you quickly find that this place was one of his favorite places to visit. The owner knew him by name and not only did Jisung have a regular order that the waitress knew by heart, but even gave the both of you the opportunity to try out an off the menu item that they were working on. Needless to say, you both left with full stomachs and happy grins on your faces.

“Do you take all of your lady friends there, Jisung?” You rest your hand on your full and round stomach, savoring the Japanese curry bowl you had.

Jisung laughs and gives you a raised brow, “What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

You eye him with a playful smile, “Well, seemed like they were really talking you up in there.”

Jisung laughs louder, taking a step close to you and nudging your shoulder gently. “Maybe because I’m just a nice customer!”

“M’hmm,” You link your arm with Jisung’s, letting him lead you to your next destination. You’re not sure what comes over you, maybe it’s a slight bit of hypothetical jealousy thinking about the possibility of Jisung bringing his past love interests to the places he’s shown you. “Have you had a lot of girlfriends?”

Jisung chuckles, rolling his eyes while he looks ahead. “No. Not at all.”

You almost scoff, “You don’t have to lie, Ji.”

“I’m not lying. I know I seem like it, but I don’t actually have the best luck in the dating department.” Jisung bites the inside of his cheek, a little ashamed.

“What? Really?” That was hard for you to believe, especially since from what Jisung has shown you, he’s been an extremely sweet, smooth, empathetic person. There’s no way people weren’t waiting in line to date him.

“Yeah,” He pauses, lips forming a thin line as he tries his best to explain, “A lot of the flirting is just surface level. You tell them what a person wants to hear, inflate their ego a little bit.”

You swat at his arm gently.

He laughs and rubs at the sore spot dramatically. “But I don’t usually connect with people beyond that. Sharing feelings, holding hands, kissing… It all makes me nervous. I start to get in my head.”

”You don’t seem to have any problems doing that stuff with me.”

“Well,” Jisung unlinks your arms and instead, holds your hand, bringing the inside of your wrist up to his lips for a chaste yet sweet kiss, “That’s because you’re different.”

You try to fight the blush that forms on your cheeks; the bubbly feeling in the pit of your stomach that slowly climbs up into your lungs to make you feel like you’re floating on air. You know what that feeling is and you know that feeling isn't productive, not when you’ll be on a plane home tomorrow morning.

In an attempt to change the subject, you look around to find that you were in front of a convenience store with little machines for kids to either win or buy toys from. You pointed at one specifically, filled with small plastic containers with red caps on them, little prizes or toys inside. “Look, Ji. I used to bother my mom for money to get a ring from these vending machines when I was younger.”

You crouch down, balancing yourself on the balls of your foot, trying to get a better look at the toys inside.

Jisung watches over you with a smile on his lips. He shoves his hand in his pocket, finding some loose change from the lunch you shared. Crouching next to you, he places a coin into the slot, hand on the knob. He’s about to turn it, but pauses to look at you, “Which one do you want?”

You reposition yourself multiple times, trying to get a real good look at the variety of rings. There are a couple of heart shaped ones, mostly in pink or red, the usual ones that mimic large oval and teardrop shaped diamonds and gemstones, but there are also fun ones in the shape of stars and shells, even a rainbow. Then, you point at one in particular. “I really like that one!”

Jisung looks at it and nods, “Okay, here’s hoping that’s the one we get.” With a turn of the knob and a cranking sound, the coin disappears and out of the machine comes a plastic capsule. Jisung maneuvers both himself and his hands to cover up the ring inside, causing you to laugh and shake his shoulders gently. Dramatically, Jisung gasps, taking a peek at the toy ring.

“What? Which one did you get!”

You watch Jisung’s face drop, his brows furrowing, creating a crease on his forehead. He frowns, lips in a tight line. “Show me, Ji!” You don’t really care if it was the one you wanted, all of the rings were really cute, you just wanted to know which one he got.

Playfully, you poke at his side, trying to get him to turn around to show you. He tsks at you which makes you a little upset. You stand up and cross your arms, tapping your foot. “Han Jisung!”

Jisung laughs and rolls his eyes at your impatience. He turns around to face you, this time on one knee. He laughs nervously, taking the ring in his hand, showing it to you. “Y/N, Marry me?”

“W–what?” You’re completely taken aback. The confusion on your face is so apparent that Jisung’s nervous laugh turns into a full grown fit, laughing from his chest with his head thrown back. Your palms start to sweat as he continues to laugh, you uncross your arms and subconsciously, you rub your hands on the front of your skirt.

With a shrug of his shoulders, he sticks his hand out with the ring towards you. “Seungmin said we should get married so you could stay in Korea with us.”

‘Me’, he means. He wants you to stay with him. Staying with Seungmin and the rest of them was just a fun addition.

“And it's the ring you wanted, so.. Maybe it’s a sign.”

You finally look at the ring and it is the ring you were hoping to get. It was a plastic light blue gem in the shape of a bear, the cuts in it making it shine brilliantly as if it were made from a real gem stone. In the center around its neck was a small chrome pink ribbon.

Jisung holds his hand out towards you and you place your left hand in his, allowing him to slip the ring on to your ring finger. He struggles gliding it on and you laugh together when it is sufficiently stuck on the knuckle. Jisung takes it off your finger and resizes it, pulling apart the shiny plastic ring ever so slightly. “Good thing these are adjustable.” He slips it back on to your finger and it's a perfect fit.

You admire the adorable little ring on your hand, smiling to yourself at how ridiculous it all was while Jisung stands back up from his knee, dusting himself off. Your eyes dart back to the stand of toy vending machines, looking for a ring for him as well. “I got to get you one, too!”

Jisung raises a brow, “No you don’t. Men don’t get engagement rings.”

You scan the different machines, getting a good look of the different toys inside. Some had stickers, others had toy cars and little baby figurines. When you find one, you point at it, turning to Jisung behind you, “You’re telling me you don’t want this really cool dinosaur ring?”

Jisung quickly goes to the machine you’re at, looking over the options. He nods his head once, as if this is the most serious matter to him. “Okay. You’ve won me over. I want an engagement ring, too.”

You laugh and hold out your hand to him, looking for another coin. Jisung’s eyes go wide, appalled. “I’m paying for my engagement ring?”

“Do you want the dinosaur ring or not?”

With a melodramatic huff, Jisung shoves his hand in his pocket and takes out a coin, placing it in your open palm. You put the coin into the machine and crank the knob,a clicking-like sound coming from the machine until the ring comes out. You uncap the small plastic capsule and show him the ring inside, a large green squishy dinosaur with a long neck and tail on a plastic metal adjustable ring. “It’s a brontosaurus!”

Jisung laughs at you and takes the ring, placing it on his finger. “It’s actually not a brontosaurus.”

You take his hand as he shows it to you, staring at the dinosaur. “It’s not?”

With a shake of his head, he adjusts the ring so that the green dinosaur sits straight, “Those don’t technically exist. Well, they exist, but that’s not what they’re called. They’re called Apatosauruses.”

When Jisung flips his hand over in the air so that his palm faces downward towards the ground, fingers stretched out, you bring your hand up to his, placing your palms together. Easily, Jisung closes his fingers around your hand and leads you forward. With a beaming smile, you look up at him, squirting your eyes a little in curiosity, “Jisung, tell me; were you a dinosaur boy growing up?”

“Oh yes, absolutely. Definitely more dinosaurs than cars.”

After a bit of walking, you find yourselves in a busier area, shops and fun cafe’s lining the wider street. One in particular captures your eye. “Jisung, you know how couples have photoshoots?”

Jisung nods his eyes, taking his phone out to look at the directions to the aquarium again. “Yeah, they’re kinda’ corny, to be honest.”

“Oh,” You try to fight the pout forming on your lips.

When Jisung looks up from his phone, he notices the change in your mood, eyebrows shooting up in panic. “I – I mean, they’re not something I would do normally! I just feel super awkward taking photos, that’s all.”

“Well,” You tug his hand and his attention towards the photobooth studio down the street, “Would you at least humor me for today?”

“For you?” Jisung leads the way to the shop, “Anything.” He laughs a little as you make your way through the doors, “And it’s only a photo booth. We’ve done this before, I thought you were going to make me stand in front of someone with a camera!”

You laugh at his ramblings, imagining how nervous and awkward Jisung would be in front of a professional camera. Inside, you’re elated as Jisung talks to the worker. Looking around, you notice that everything is pretty self-serving. There were a couple of very large photo booths with a plain backdrop and shelves and buckets filled with accessories.

When Jisung comes back, he guides you to the booth all the way in the back. You slip in with him behind the light blue curtain and you quickly scan through the different templates and frames of the picture strips. Jisung stops you at a certain one, “What about ‘2Gether 4 Ever’?”

You look up to find that Jisung’s head is hovering right over your shoulder and the proximity is both comfortable and nerve-racking; comfortable because at this point in your… whatever-it-was with Jisung, his whole presence is something you seek, something you expect – never too far away –, but nerve-racking, because it felt like today, every single word, every movement, gesture, moment, is hanging over your heads, everything was comicotragic.

Is the universe playing a sick prank on you?

So much for focusing on just today. You couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t escape tomorrow.

Jisung’s eyes mimic your own, a little bit of mirth, hope, but also that tinge of sadness.

“Yeah,” You speak before you can even process what you’re saying, “That’s perfect.”

Before you’re ready, the large countdown on the preview screen in front of you starts and you panic, opting for your default pose which consists of a peace sign by your face. Jisung, behind you, has a similar pose: He leans over you slightly, placing a peace sign above your head with one hand, the other hand poking at the side of your cheek. It snaps the picture.

You smile brightly, turning your head around to him. Quickly, he loops an arm around your waist, bringing you close to him, leaning his weight into you. As you lean to the side under his weight, he holds you up. “Hey, we’re engaged, you gotta show off your ring!”

You laugh and do so, bringing your hand forward into the view of the camera. Jisung mimics you and the camera snaps again, taking a picture of Jisung and you close together with your shiny toy bear ring and his rubber dinosaur ring in front of you.

The screen blinks in front of you and the countdown for the next picture starts. “Two more!”

“Come here,” Jisung turns you around, and places his hands at the small of your back, pulling you close.

You push your palms against his chest, trying to create space but it’s no use. “Jisung?”

The picture snaps and the automated voice of the photo booth lets you know that it’s going to take the final picture.

Jisung’s lips tug into a smirk as he leans in closer, “Just kiss me. Please?”

Truthfully, you’re not into public displays of affection like this. Holding hands and hugging was probably the extent of affection you were okay to show to the world. Jisung, however, is not afraid to show how much he cares about you.

“What, I can’t kiss my fiancee?” He repeats with a small laugh.

One look at him with that sly smirk on his face was all it took for you to tilt your head up to meet his lips with yours. Your hands go to his jaw, giving you more purchase for the kiss. Even after the camera takes the final picture and it starts to print out the photo strips, you're left in the tender kiss.

When you finally pull a part, you’re breathless.

Both you and Jisung are all smiles, pressing your foreheads together. You hold his gaze for just a moment longer before you tear away from him to get her the photo strip. With a bite of his lip, he follows after you.

“Ji, these are cute!” You show him the photo strips, that smile still plastered on your face.

He takes them in his hand, tracing a finger of the last pose. “Oh, honey. We already look happily married.” He brings you into his side by your waist and your grin grows wider.

“We do, don’t we?” You take the pictures and place them into your tri-fold wallet to keep it safe from wrinkles and creases before tossing it into your bag.

At the aquarium, you and Jisung took your time going through all of the many exhibits, from bay aquatics to tropical and reef fish. Jisung would sprinkle in some interesting facts that he learned from watching an animal documentary or even from the lid of a snapple bottle.

The whole time, you held hands. When he would point to things close, he would use his free hand to place the pad of his finger gently on the glass – he told you it was inhumane to tap on it, ‘Have you seen Finding Nemo?’, he said – whenever he would point out something in a tank. When he would notice something across the room or hall, he would point with the hand that held yours, index finger pointed in that direction with the rest of his fingers wrapped snugly around your hand.

Now, you’re in the main hall, looking at a map of the place on the wall. “Jisung, I want to see the jellyfish.”

“Jellyfish, got it.” Jisung’s finger grazes over the map from your current location to the back of the building. He nods to himself and then points with your hands together towards the right maze of hallways. “That way.” While the both of you walk towards the jellyfish exhibit, Jisung’s eyes stay on the map just a little bit longer, committing the next place that you would go to memory.

The exhibit hall you walk into is dimly lit, the low light coming from the tanks of jellyfish itself, the soft sound of waves crashing playing over the speakers in the room. Jisung guides you to the first tank, recessed into the wall. Your eyes go wide, filled with wonder. While other aquarium visitors would stop and observe the tank and leave shortly after, Jisung and you stayed longer.

“Do you like jellyfish?” Jisung’s voice is low, but loud enough for you to hear over the calming waves.

“I do, they look so… easygoing.” You go to the next window, watching the plump jellyfish swim across the tank.

Jisung moves his finger along the glass with it. “These are the Japanese Sea Nettle jellyfish.” His finger traces the long tentacles, dragging it down the glass. The orange color of the jellyfish is a beautiful contrast against the blue of the tank. The corners of his lips tug upwards in a smile so wide it reaches his eyes, “Jellyfish are 95% water, that’s why they look so different out of it. I also think that’s why they’re super interesting to watch swim. They look like they’re floating.” He laughs nervously at himself, “Well, I mean they are floating.”

You laugh with him, tugging him towards the large cylindrical tank in the middle of the room, “No, I get it. It looks like they’re weightless.”

The tank in the middle goes from floor to ceiling and is filled with lots of jellyfish, a type that’s smaller than the Japanese Sea Nettle. The lights at the bottom of the tank change color every so often, the current purple hue casting a purple glow on the nearly translucent jellyfish.

You stand in front of the tank, watching as the glow shifts into a cool blue. “These are my favorite ones.”

Jisung watches your face and admires the way you look at the jellyfish. Your eyes are wide, lips in a small smile, head tilted to the side. The jellyfish and tank are reflected in your eyes and as the light changes to red, he has to tear his eyes away from you. In a quick recovery, he clears his throat. “These are moon jellyfish. They’ve got a really round and big bell compared to their tentacles.”

You glance at Jisung briefly from the corner of your eyes and notice how his eyes move as they trace the jellyfish’ movement. “Do you know why I like jellyfish so much?”

Of course he didn’t, but he doesn’t say anything and instead waits for you to answer.

“I just imagine their life of floating in the ocean, going in whatever way the water takes them. I’m a little jealous of them, really.”

Jisung looks back at you and pulls you to him. He settles you in front of him as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pressing his cheek against the side of your head.

Once you’ve stayed for a full cycle of the color changes, Jisung whispers against your ear, “Y/N, are you ready to go to the next exhibit?”

You nod and he retakes your hand in his and leads you out into the hallway.

“These are some of my favorite animals here.” Jisung walks backwards as he leads you into the room.

The smell is really strong and frankly kind of stinky, but you get over it once you realize that you’re looking at penguins through a glass. There’s many of them, some diving in the water, others just standing on the platform meant to resemble a rock with their flipper-like wings at their sides.

You’re not as close as you want to be, children sitting in rows in front of the large glass window. Soon, the kids stand, getting closer just as the penguins crowd around the door to the exhibit where you assume the employees enter. Sure enough, someone comes through the door with a large bucket of fish. You clap and laugh along with the other visitors as the penguins gather around for their meal time.

You take a seat on a bench, still watching the penguins. The kids file out, someone on the intercom attracting their attention when they announced a tidal pool exhibit where they could touch starfish.

As the penguins finish their meals and the employee leaves through the door, the penguins go about their regular business. You notice two standing close to each other on the rock, one nudging the other with its head.

“Those two remind me of us.” You point at the two birds before zooming in with the camera of your phone and taking a picture. After a couple of pictures, you place your phone on your lap. “Here’s my animal fact,” You giggle. Not only is the possibility of Jisung’s habits rubbing off on you amusing, but you’re a little excited that you could share a fact with him for once. “Many different species of penguins will only have one mate for the rest of their life.” You take his hand back in yours again, the brief moment without it made you miss the warmth he radiated.

Jisung stares forward, though his eyes look a little distant. His smile is lopsided, a reflection of how bittersweet this whole day is.

He doesn’t tell you, but he already knew that fact. He wonders silently if you’ve heard the story about a group of three penguins. Two were mates and the third was a female penguin attracted to the male penguin. Eventually, the male’s mate passes away and although that made him available to love the third penguin, he passed away from the grief of losing his soulmate.

“Y/N, do you know what inyeon is?”

You turn your head to him and notice his far-off stare. “No, what is inyeon?” You speak slowly, doing your best to imitate the way he said the word, clearly a foreign word to you, never once hearing of it or speaking it.

Absent-mindedly, he runs a thumb over your knuckles. “It’s silly, really. Koreans believe in the idea that certain people are meant for each other, but that it could take thousands of lifetimes to get it right. Maybe the penguins got it right this time, like this is the lifetime where everything aligned.”

“Hm,” You take a beat to reflect on his words. “Like fate. Destiny.” The more you think about it, the more you start to wonder: Who was that person for you? Would you know if that lifetime was the lifetime? Could this be your lifetime?

As you lean your head on Jisung’s shoulder, your phone vibrates in your lap. One glance at the notification of your flight convinces you that it’s not.

The night air is a little crisp when you walk out, your cardigan in your bag completely forgotten. Instead, Jisung’s body heat keeps you warm as you latch onto his arm. The pace of your walk is set slow, the lights from the lamps on the street and from inside buildings shining through their windows illuminating your walk.

“Where do you want to be in five years?” Jisung’s voice cuts through the bustling of the streets, the soft mumble of people talking on their own walks with friends and family.

The question catches you off guard. Where did you see yourself? Previously, you’d probably see yourself just doing what you always did: wake up, go to work, put just enough effort to maintain relationships with your friends, see your dad once a week. You look at Jisung. He smiles at you, no sign of judgment that would follow. That gives you enough assurance and courage to even just imagine something more for yourself.

That’s what Jisung has given to you.

So you let out a sigh and it’s not of frustration. No, instead it’s a sigh that sheds off your own fears and judgmental attitude about wanting more than what you previously had for yourself.��

“I want to be happy.” Without knowing, you squeeze Jisung’s hand. “Maybe promoted at my job or at a better one.” You chuckle at the idea, instead of being behind a computer screen the whole time, maybe something more client facing, interacting with people. “A better relationship with my friends. More dinner parties with Robin and the girls.” You stop at an intersection and look up at Jisung. “What about you?”

Jisung smiles brightly. He’s thought about the question a lot and it’s something you admire about him. Through the challenges that life has thrown him, he was able to come out of it as a bright person.You smile back at him when you think about how his friend Chan would be happy to see him now.

“Happy. Successful.” He laughs at how arrogant he comes off with that sentence. “I hope in five years I’m able to share my music with people”

You interrupt him, excited while you step off the curb into the street when it is safe. “You will! You need to let the world hear your music, Jisung. It’s incredible.”

Jisung shrugs his shoulders modestly. “I would love to see Loud Mouths continuing to do well. I mean, we’re doing great now, but imagine another Loud Mouths somewhere outside of Korea. We’ve been talking about partnerships and collaborations with other restaurants, like showcasing baked goods from Seungmin’s cafe during our brunch hours. I hope the place gets big enough that we can help smaller local companies out like that.”

Jisung stops and that’s when you realize that you’re in front of a fountain. The water trickling sounds calm and serene in the middle of the city. The lights on the ground and in the fountain showcase the area beautifully.

He comes up behind you and takes a coin out from his pocket, similar to how he did earlier in the day. He places it in front of your face and you take it into your palm, squeezing it with one hand over the other tightly. “Go ahead, Toss a Coin and Make a Wish.”

As you close your eyes, Jisung steps back to give you the space and breathing room. You think about all the major events that have happened in your life; both the good and the bad. You’re reminded of both of your parents. You recall your mother’s beautiful smile, her radiant energy and how truly, all she wanted for you was to be safe and happy. Something that your dad always wishes for you. It took awhile for your relationship with your dad to get to where it is now, and you have no doubt that it will continue to get better. That same sentiment is shared by Robin – who you cannot thank enough for being so patient and having so much faith in you, even when you probably weren’t the best friend you could be.

Safe and happy. You wonder for a moment what that looks like.

A smile stretches your lips.

Safe and happy looks like right now. This day. With Jisung.

You open your eyes and toss the coin into the fountain. In lands with a plop and a small splash.

You turn your body towards Jisung who on cue, makes his way back to be by your side, strong arms engulfing you in a warm and tight embrace. You lean into him as he cradles your body against him, gently rocking the both of you back and forth.

“I wished th–”

Jisung pulls apart, eyes wide in horror. “No, you can’t tell me. It won’t come true if you do.”

When Jisung looks down into your eyes, he notices the glassy reflection. Your eyes start to sting a little as tears start to pool. However; they don’t fall, a poetic testament to the balance that is how you’re feeling right now: both untroubled in his embrace and out of sorts with tomorrow’s departure from this dream land that you’ve lived for the past two weeks.

Jisung is right. Wishes don’t come true if you speak them out loud, but perhaps that’s why you say it. Your wish is so outlandish, so selfish, so fantasied that it didn’t matter if you said it loud.

“I wished that this day would never end.”

ending author’s notes: don't we all, mc. we're almost done here. i love and am welcomed to all feedback. see you guys next chapter ;)

taglist

@burningchaosdeer @bat-shark-repellant, @jisunglyricist, @captivq, @lixiel0ver, @channieandhisgoonsquad, @dalamjisung, @laylasbunbunny, @beanebabyy, @leyknowsbin, @vixensss, @hyunfilms, @cutiespaghetti, @hanjisunginc, @kubuwu, @raehawthorne, @leeknowyah, @lifeissteph, @thesunsfullmoon, @bbokari711, @sunnyhonie, @aalexyuuuhm, @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

could not be tagged

#han jisung fanfic #han jisung series #han series #han jisung smut #han fluff #han jisung fluff #han jisung angst #stray kids series #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz angst #skz series #han jisung x you #han jisung x y/n #han jisung x reader

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wineonmytshirt · 24 days

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Jen's Favorite Edits: March, 2024

These are some of my favorite works of art that I've seen creators post. I'll continue this series each month. Thank you for creating and please, please keep doing so! Tag me #tsuserjen! If we haven't met, hello! My name is Jen, and I really love something you've created.

Taylor Swift Clean Graphic by @evermqres

Taylor Swift You're Losing Me Eras Tour Performance Gifset by @goodriddancedeluxe

Taylor Swift TTPD Wallpapers by @sombrewoodlandfairy

Rocky Horror Picture Show Eras Graphic by @andtosaturn

Taylor Swift evermore Gifset by @midnightslesbian

Taylor Swift Maroon Eras Tour Performance Gifset by @tayloralison

Taylor Swift Death By A Thousand Cuts Eras Tour Performance Gifset by @bazkrekkers

Taylor Swift Eras Tour Setlist Gifset by @midnightslesbian

Taylor Swift Look What You Made Me Do Gifset by @tolerateit

Taylor Swift Superman Eras Tour Performance Gifset by @itmfl

Taylor Swift Eras Tour Lover Set Gifset by @kitsebastianconnor

Taylor Swift illicit affairs Graphic by @tthealchemy

Harry Styles Matilda Graphic by @stood-onthecliffside

Taylor Swift Labyrinth Graphic by @stillworshipthislove

Maise Peters Icons by @maliagf

Olivia Rodrigo Obsessed Spotify Canvas Gifset by @anthonyfoster

Taylor Swift reputation Gifset by @paintedmesgolden

#jen's favorite edits: march 2024 #jen's favorite edits #artists on tumblr #taylor swift #harry styles #maisie peters #olivia rodrigo

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cboffshore · 5 months

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Well, less than twelve hours after wondering if I should make it: it's here, the official playlist for On Sea, Sunlight, and Sky! Cover art and everything, too.

Since Spotify doesn't allow track-by-track notes to be added, I've included commentary on each included song under the cut (as well as their names and artists so anyone who's not on Spotify can go look them up). If you're short on time, the most important thing to know is that order is not important here, as this is a rough collection of songs that either inspired or act as parallels to the series. You know, for when you want the energy of the fics without actually reading them.

Before the notes: here's the full cover art. I sourced all the illustrations from free art websites and Google listings, then edited them together and did some minor color correction in Sketchbook (on mobile, too!). I tried to go for a scrapbook style look, so I hand-cut each piece out with a rough eraser for a papery feel, then added text that I formatted in Canva, pulled the background out of, and textured.

Now: the tracklist and commentary!

"Escape Route" by Paramore: Given Nya's MO of GTFO throughout the series, I thought this would be a nice capstone track. I especially love the lines "Not quite a victory to run from your problems/But it's the only plan that I got, the only plan that I got" and "Where I'm going is everyone's story" in a meta kind of way. Where she's going - or trying to - is indeed this entire story.

"The Ballad of Mona Lisa" by Panic! At The Disco: Three out of four entries in OSSAS take their name from "Kaleidoscope Eyes," a bonus track from the same album as this one that's not on streaming services (although you can find it on YouTube). In the absence of the title track, I picked "Mona Lisa" for its ethereal opener and ominous guitar work. I also adore the line "A lonely speaker in a conversation/Her words are swimming through his ears again" for the prologue of IICT(OSC).

"Small Cuts" by The Brobecks: This is where "It Doesn't Take Much (To Cover Up Small Cuts)" takes its name from. I think the themes of covering up pain while wanting someone to acknowledge it works very well for that particular fic, but also for the series as a whole. My favorite OSSAS-ish line in this one is "She will leave you deaf and bewildered/Oh, how she floats like a butterfly, stings like a killer."

"Visitation Of The Ghost" by The Brobecks: From the same album as "Small Cuts," this is a delightfully spooky track (and if you want extra drama, go look up the "fancy studio version"). The second verse is especially relevant for reasons I'll try to articulate in the finale of this year's installment, if all goes well, so pay attention to that one ;)

"GLOOMTOWN BRATS" by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME: This track brings us three for three on Dallon Weekes songs, and there's more where that came from! A brand-new release, this song is a panicky, funky track that acts as a nod towards Nya's canon distrust towards overblown luxury and Nadakhan's veneer of gentlemanly behavior.

"Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things To Do Today" by Fall Out Boy: It's loud, it's fast, it's snarky, it's bitter - this is a song to run away to. Take a look at that chorus, the chunk with the bridges and the piss, and tell me otherwise. This might be a personal thing, but the swell of the volume between the verses and the choruses makes me think of swooping ocean waves.

"Playing God" by Paramore: At its core, OSSAS is a power struggle. This song exemplifies that with its own hefty dose of Nya-aligned snark and poignant venting. I especially like the pairing of the lines "Next time you point a finger, I might have to bend it back or break it off/Next time you point a finger, I'll point you to the mirror" as a character analysis of both Nya and Nadakhan (as a bonus, this line will become very relevant in the IICT(OSC) finale - and not for the reasons you think).

"Nearly Witches (Ever Since We Met...) by Panic! At The Disco: Another one from the album that kicked all this off, this is yet another spooky, dreamlike track, with an undercurrent of lost love and regret that serves Nadakhan especially well. (For him, I think it's fun to take the shouted "And I regret never letting you go!" out of the song's context for the IICT(OSC) opening sequence.)

"mirrorball" by Taylor Swift: Something a little softer and solidly out of the 2000s alt rock scene, this song works nicely for the introspective sections of the series, especially when it comes to how Nya processes her situation. For that, I really like the line "I'll show you every version of yourself tonight/I'll get you out on the floor" and the general quietness of the track.

"Look Who's Inside Again" by Bo Burnham: This one is pretty specific to IICT(OSC) and actually almost gave the fic its title! It ultimately didn't, but I think it's still a good fit. If I listed every line that fit the story, I'd be writing out the whole song, so do us both a favor and go play it once or twice.

"Hold Me Like A Grudge" by Fall Out Boy: Yet another snarky one that I particularly like for both Nya and as a tongue-in-cheek reference to Nadakhan's constant physical contact despite the fact that he's growing to resent her and his own failings (literally holding her like a grudge). Nya is nothing if not a "full-time problem". (Also: the bass line on this is incredible.)

"Carry On" by Coeur de Pirate: This song actually inspired the post-Seabound Nya fics I wrote a while back, so it's a Nya song to me now. In the context of the newest series installment, I love the line "The light of the sundowns/On my fate" as a little bit of foreshadowing.

"YES MOM" by Tessa Violet: This one is unadulterated independence, power posing, and self-confidence - that is, Nya every time she kicks off some new menace behavior. "Push me down and I bounce right back/Trampoline and it's in my past/Rising like a phoenix, making fire from the ash" is a FANTASTIC sequence for her, in both the context of her little successes in this series and her origin as Samurai X.

"The Carpal Tunnel Of Love" by Fall Out Boy: Surrealist Wentz lyricism at its best, I chose this one for the underlying themes of relationships that are apparently destined to never work (like the one Nya's trying to avoid) and the sheer energy. I especially like the Wentz screaming section in the middle, and the lyrics for that part are pretty relevant - although unintelligible, so you might want to just look them up and read them on your own.

"Say Amen (Saturday Night)" by Panic! At The Disco: The music video for this one inspired the combat sequence in IICT(OSC). Aside from that influence, I think the lyrics that swing from wild confidence to existential despair are a great fit for the tone of this series.

"bury a friend" by Billie Eilish: I love that this one opens with a series of questions that range from simply wondering what's wrong with someone to wondering about what happens after death. If that's not a fun fit for Nya's arc in this series (we'll get to the death thing eventually, don't worry), I don't know what is. Again, there's a nice sense of bitterness in here, as well as those ominous male backing vocals muttering "Careful" and echoing the lyrics here and there.

"Choke - Acoustic" by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME: Both versions of this track are awesome, but I like the gentle, almost taunting creepiness of the acoustic style in this one. The entire song is about hating a place, which I think is appropriate given the fact that Nya's trapped with someone she hates for the first three fics on the timeline and with memories she hates for "Small Cuts." In IICT(OSC), she loosely considers burning the Temple down as a means of escape, but finds that she can't, which lines up beautifully with "If I could burn this town, I wouldn't hesitate/To smile while you suffocate and die." And, in true Weekes style, there's another little commentary against undeserved wealth that works nicely with Nya's disdain for her situation.

"Absinthe" by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME: As of IICT(OSC), beverages are a major plot device, which plays nicely with 'Whatever they give you, stop drinking it down!" and the title of the track. If "Choke" is Nya's TLDR opinion of the situation, "Absinthe" is Nadakhan's - but we'll get to that in the finale.

"Modern Day Cain" by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME: Last IDKHOW track for a while, I promise! And I hate that I keep saying the finale is going to make a lot of these make sense, but if it's true for one song, it's true for this one, which did inspire some of what I'm working on for the final confrontation.

"The Calendar" by Panic! At The Disco: This one is only here for the lines "There is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends" and "Anticipation's on the other line, and obsession called while you were out" as very thematically-appropriate lines. Also, a straight bop.

"Patches of Sky" and "Path of the Eclipse" by Coeur de Pirate from Child of Light: A little instrumental break, these are two of the pieces I keep on my default writing playlist. Ominous and optimistic in equal measure, I think these two fit OSSAS well.

"Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes" by Fall Out Boy: This one is an absolute goldmine of lines that could work for either of the series leads. For Nya, I really like the repeated "Boycott love! Detox just to retox!/And I'd promise you anything for another shot at life/Imperfect boys with their perfect ploys/Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy!" For Nadakhan, I like (well, not LIKE like, but I definitely think it works) the slightly stalkerish and somewhat paranoid "Little girl, you got me staring odd/Or was that just a telescopic camera nod?"

"Time To Dance" by Panic! At The Disco: This one is perfect in ways I can't articulate succinctly, although I do want to say I love the detached and kind of panicky sarcasm of the opener as a summary of the overall series mood: "Well, she's not bleeding on the ballroom floor just for the attention/'Cause that's just ridiculously odd/Well, she sure is gonna get it!" There's also some desperation in there that works very well for every failed escape attempt or revenge plot.

"Leave Me Alone - Piano Version" by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME: Surprise, more IDKHOW! The lyrics on this one are pretty straightforward - read it as an insulting monologue being hurled at Nadakhan if you'd like. I chose this one for the lonely, vaguely-frightened vocals over the stripped-down piano backing.

"Boy Division" by My Chemical Romance: I like this one for its high energy and fight scene vibes, but most importantly, look at those lyrics - don't they read as someone lamenting a situation they put themselves into? I think that works well for what I've done and plan to do to Nadakhan in this year's installment and any future ones.

"To The End" and "It's Not a Fashion Statement, It's a Fucking Deathwish" by My Chemical Romance: Songs from Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge automatically get Skybound brownie points for all the gore and the wedding theme. "To The End" reads as a mockery of Nadakhan's marriage plot; "Deathwish" is a fun examination of resilience and, well, revenge - I adore the line "I'm taking back the life you stole/This hole you put me in wasn't deep enough, and I'm climbing out right now/You're running out of places to hide from me!" as a general summary of what Nya's doing the whole time.

"F.T.W.W.W." by My Chemical Romance: Again, excellent action sequence energy here; this is what flipping the bird would sound like if it made noise. In the context of Skybound and this series, I really appreciate the line "The heart you got, it ain't the one you need."

"Karma" by Taylor Swift: Listen, this entire series is an excuse to flip the script on Nadakhan and let Nya take a crack at the whole "read your enemies and then use their flaws to beat them to an emotional pulp" tactic, because frankly that's a cool narrative device. Here's where "Karma" works best: remember the line in "Wishmasters" where Nya, with little other comment, tells Nadakhan that he'll be sorry? That's this song. There's a sort of "I know you're about to get your ass beat" energy, a sort of wink wink from the singer that subtly pokes the subject with the knowledge that only one person here is in the right.

#lila speaks #OSSAS tag #december wip rambles #PHEW that's a lotta notes #my playlists #audio #Spotify

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allamericansbitch · 8 months

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Hi everyone! Here’s the newest addition to my Creator Shoutout Series (september 3 - september 10)! I want to appreciate editors and their creations that i love from the past week. To track this series or look at previous shoutouts, please check out the tag on my blog *creatorshoutouts. Have a great week everyone!

yellowjackets: 2x07 gifset by @cobiesmlders

stranger things: lucas sinclair gifset by @mike-el

yellowjackets: 1x09 gifset by @saltandspite

taylor swift: 1989 (taylor's version) gifset by @evermoredlx

friends: rachel green + favorite outfits gifset by @sculien

barbie (2023) gifset by @phoebesbridgers

taylor swift: you're on your own kid graphic by @cruellesummer

yellowjackets: shauna shipman gifset by @evelyns

barbie (2023): ken gifset by @ryaangosling

taylor swift: the eras tour gifet by @rogerhealey

the last of us: joel and ellie gifset by @belasdimitrescu

the national: don't swallow the cap graphic by @h-f-k

yellowjackets: akilah gifset by @taiturner

succession: shiv and kendall gifset by @romanticspeculation

yellowjackets: shauna shipman gifset by @maddiebuckley

heartstopper: season 2 gifset by @spookys

taylor swift: the eras tour gifset by @paintedmesgolden

the bear: carmen berzatto gifset by @emziess

yellowjackets: favorite characters gifset by @jackietaylorsghost

pride & prejudice: text post gifset by @barbiexken

olivia rodrigo: the grudge graphic by @stood-onthecliffside

taylor swift: 1989 (taylor's version) gifset by @rogerhealey

yellowjackets: jackie taylor gifset by @ordinarybarbie

olivia rodrigo: the grudge graphic by @abadidearight

normal people gifset by @jamietarrt

yellowjackets: shauna and jackie gifset by @azrphales

olivia rodrigo: guts gifset by @ginaricky

elton john grpahic by @andtosaturn

heartstopper: nick nelson gifset by @birthdaysentiment

olivia rodrigo: guts gifset by @venka

taylor swift: eras tour movie gifset by @lovestory

barbie (2023) gifset by @spookys

olivia rodrigo: spotify canvas' gifset by @chriswevans

barbie (2023): barbie wardrobe gifset by @myspiritmytrust

olivia rodrigo: all-american bitch graphic by @allamericanwitch

yellowjackets: 2x02 gifset by @jugheadjones

olivia rodrigo: guts gifset by @kitconnor

abbott elementary: janine and jake gifset by @bellamysgriffin

yellowjackets: favorite dynamics gifset by @jackietaylcr

olivia rodrigo: guts gifset by @swearphil

yellowjackets gifset by @lavenderhze

#*creatorshoutouts

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ls-daydreams · 1 year

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~Writeblr Intro~

Hello, everyone! I'm a tumblr ancient who's been lurking around writeblr for a while now, but never actually made an intro post or interacted with peeps within the community, so here I am!

☆ ABOUT ME ☆

name: Laura | birthday: 26.09.1997 | pronouns: she/her

languages: Romanian (native), English (fluent), Korean (conversational; been casually learning on and off for about 6 years), can somewhat understand Spanish and Italian

studies: BA in Scriptwriting, MA in Film Production Management

interests & hobbies: sudoku, crosswords, cooking & baking, tennis, collecting things, losing myself in canva edits & spotify playlists

what i’m doing now: working as a newbie librarian, trying to write my first novel, losing my mind over my characters

☆ ABOUT MY WRITING ☆

what i like: everything. i love me some nice variety in my genres, themes, and mediums. being absorbed into new worlds and learning from my peers is why i enjoy reading and why i’m a writer

what i write: in two words, murder gays. in more words, i usually write psychological thrillers intertwined with romance and mystery. after i’m done with my massive old-ass WIP (Metanoia, my beloved), i’ll dabble into taking the idiots-in-love into other genres (i already have some ideas for dark fantasy, sci fi & dystopian stories)

recurring things: characters who are demisexual/on the ace spectrum, deep connections between two people who can truly understand only each other, obsession, the concept of beauty in ugliness, death (as rebirth, as a companion to life, as a cause for grief), generational trauma, nature vs. nurture, loneliness vs. solitude

mediums: my current WIP is a novel, but i also write film and TV scripts and like to come up with transmedia experiences too - check out Forget-Me-Not for glimpses of those.

Below the cut are more details about some of my works~ I hope to make loads of friends, read all of your wonderful stories, and meet all of your OCs, so please interact with this post and I’ll check you out! I follow from my main, @sarcasticjuiceboxes ! Bless you for reading this~

METANOIA - novel & eventual TV series

themes - nature vs. nurture, familial relationships, the illusion of choice

summary: Set in the tiny fictional town of Plain River, the story follows 25-year-old Malachi Azevedo as he tries to regain his memories after an "accident" erases the first 18 years of his life. Stuck caring for his ever-ailing mother, plagued by intrusive thoughts of self-harm, and constantly feeling like an impostor living in the wrong skin, Malachi latches onto The Void - a familiar voice in his head - to cope. He’s convinced The Void was someone important to his former self and tries to find him despite everyone around him denying such a person ever existed. It's this desperate search, along with his fight for independence, which lead Mal down a rabbit hole of love, violence, and hidden truths and force him to finally reconcile with the person he used to be.

warnings - blood, gore, depression, amnesia, abuse, kidnapping, gaslighting, attempted suicide, murder, death

word count - x

status - currently writing

FORGET-ME-NOT - feature film

summary: Haunted by never-ending tragedies, reporter Seo Joon decides to end his life in an almost derelict bath house. It's there he runs into a pair of odd strangers who force him to pick a side when they get into a violent fight, Seo Joon accidentally ending up killing one to save the other. A connection immediately forms between Seo Joon and the rescued stranger, Yul, who convinces the former to put off his initial plans.

It's only the next morning that Seo Joon learns two things: Yul is a photographer working for the police, and the man they killed was completely certain Yul was a serial killer trying to claim him as the next victim.

themes - grief, peculiar love, beauty in ugliness

warnings - murder, suicide, death, blood, panic attacks

word count - ~26k words

status - complete

story & more details (character profiles, inspo, etc) here | mobile friendly here

FLAT 27 - short film

summary: Detached from society and impaired by his deteriorating mental state, writer Ryan latches onto one of the last things that can still keep him going - his novel. He fixates on trying to finally finish it, but the incessant noises in his head prevent him from concentrating as he hasn't slept for days on end.

His inspiration is finally awakened when he overhears a tormented cello playing from the neighbouring apartment. Ryan grows dependent on the music to write, believing his neighbour, Damien, is playing specifically for him, and they're bonded through their art despite never exchanging a single word. When Damien starts to show a disconnect by refusing to play as usual and inviting a third person into their "bubble", Ryan is tempted into a depraved act that finally brings him face to face with his delusions.

themes - obsession, solitute vs. loneliness, real vs. manufactured self

warnings - insomnia, stalking, unreality, death

word count - ~3k words

status - completed (script), in production (film)

story & more details (character profiles, inspo, etc) here | mobile friendly here

More works available to check out - web here | mobile here

Thanks so much for reading! Hit me up and let’s get a-friending ♥

#writeblr #writeblr intro #writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #putting myself out there is scary as hell but oh well #it's about time i do this #maybe this will stop me from talking to the void (heh) whenever i write #and actually share stuff

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crappymixtape · 1 year

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something infinite • part one

SOMETHING INFINITE • PART ONE M A Y B E T H E W O R L D W O N ' T E N D

2.8K – part one of something infinite – steve steals a car and somehow you wind up in hawkins, indiana, a meet cute without the cute *18+ only | ( 2.8k, angst, verbal abuse, enemies to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader – find the rest of the series and more here and find the series playlist on spotify here )

J U N E 1 9 8 7 🎶 the rat, the walkmen

“C’mon Harrington, don’t be a pussy, get in.”

“Shit, hurry up Tommy!”

“Shut up, I’m going!”

With two wires held tightly between his fingers, Tommy Hagan quickly brushed them together until the old Chevy Blazer rumbled to life, Lynyrd Skynard’s Call Me the Breeze screaming through the speakers.

Well now, they call me the breeze, I keep blowin' down the road! I ain't got me nobody, I don't carry me no load!

“Fuck yeah, get it in drive!”

Steve didn’t know how he ended up there in the passenger seat of an about-to-be-stolen car – sheriff’s car to be exact – and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as Tommy struggled to shift it into gear. His hands gripped the dash in front of him as he watched a light come on inside the house, “Jesus, Tommy, fucking move!”

“I’m trying, god damn gear shift is stuck!”

It was the hundredth weekend in a row, Steve was certain, that his parents were out of town on business and the fight he’d had with his dad that night had been a real crowning achievement. The worst of all time and something in him snapped. All he wanted now was to feel something. Anything. And it was barreling toward him like a train off the rails.

“HEY, YOU LITTLE ASSHOLES! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY TRUCK!”

“Oh shit, we gotta go, we gotta go!”

“Fucking bail!”

The screen door on the front of Hopper’s house flung open so hard the whole frame shook as it slammed shut behind him.

“Get outta here, meet back at my place!” Kyle and Tommy jumped out of the car so fast Steve didn’t have any time to think.

“Shit, shit shit shit,” scrambling, Steve’s hand fumbled on the door handle as he shoved it open, scraping his leg against the runner board on his way down. Hair messed and wild in his eyes, he looked up to see his friends were already over the fence and sprinting toward the tree line behind Hopper’s place, “Wait!”

Not bothering to close the door behind him, Steve tried to pick up a sprint, but a large hand half-shoved, half-grabbed the back of his neck and within seconds he was face down in the lawn with a mouth full of grass and dirt, Hop’s weight pressing him into the ground.

“You little shits think you’re so clever. Well, s’the last time you fuck with Hopper, hm?”

It was dark, the summer night thick and warm when you arrived at your aunt’s place in Hawkins. Nothing like Indianapolis. The moon hung high in the inky black sky, stars blinking above you like holes poked through canvas, and the sound of crickets and frogs off over the fence was almost deafening. No ambulance sirens, no yelling, no loud music in the apartment above you. Your stomach sank. What was this place?

“The real armpit of America, hm?” the cab driver said tossing your bag and skateboard at your feet as if he could hear your apprehension, wiping sweat from his forehead. You gave him a look, almost pleading to let you come back to the city with him, but he was already climbing back into the car. Rolling down the passenger window he leaned over and tipped his ball cap at you with a laugh, “Enjoy!” And with a rumble he was off down the road you came, dust kicking up around the wheels as he went.

Fuck, you muttered squeezing your eyes shut, hoping maybe if you clicked your heels together you’d magically appear back in your room like Dorothy. The whole summer. That’s how long you’d be stuck in this place. Until your mom was back, and in that moment you wished you’d asked to stay with your grandmother. Anywhere was better than this.

“You’re here! Oh, you’re here!”

Your eyes flew open at the sound of a voice you hadn’t heard in years and you were suddenly wrapped up into a big hug. It was all cinnamon and fresh laundry and cut grass and so soft. So warm. Your aunt Joyce.

“Honey, you’re so tall! My gosh, I don’t think I’ve seen you since…can’t be since ‘77 can it? Here, Hop will get those, come on inside,” with a gentle hand on your back she guided you to the door, leaving your things where they were for whoever this Hop was. “I just made dinner,” Joyce gave you a big smile, her shoulders squeezing up toward her ears with excitement, and you wondered for a second if maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

She was so different from your mom, her sister, so much softer around the edges, fuzzy and sparkling and bright. The look she gave you made your heart ache a little, like she really loved you, and a small lump rose in your throat as you tried to smile back.

“Oh, Hop, grab those will you?”

As the screen door creaked open you came face to face with what could only described as the human version of a grizzly bear. Tall, frame like a fridge and gruff, but oddly soft under all the grit like your aunt. He grunted a reply and held the door for you both, muttering a Hey, kid, to you on the way by before going to grab your things.

Your aunt’s place was modest, but so homey and comforting somehow. The living room was smaller, with a little television in the corner, and it bled right into the dining room and kitchen. Open, just like your aunt.

Family photos hung along the walls, you recognized your cousins Will and Jonathan, but there was a girl now too. And Hop. And tons of other kids you didn’t recognize. All grinning and laughing and piled on each other or hanging out the bed of a pickup or floating lazy in a lake.

“Will and Jonathan are out with their friends, not sure when they’ll be back…” your aunt’s voice brought you back, “Are you hungry?”

“Actually, I’m sorry, I’m just pretty tired and–”

“Oh, of course you are! That’s okay, sweetie. Your room’s the third door on the right, Hop’s got your things in there, and the bathroom is the first door on the left. I’ll be out here if you need anything, okay?” she gave your arm a gentle squeeze and for the first time in a long time you felt your lips curve up into a small, genuine smile, murmuring your thanks.

Turning to walk down the hall you looked back to see Hop settle into the big, brown arm chair with a beer in hand as your aunt climbed up onto his lap. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, fitting perfectly there with him. Hop rumbled a contented sound as he wrapped an arm around her and pressed his own kiss to her forehead.

Happy. Loving. A proper display of affection. Nothing like home.

Closing the door to your room you didn’t bother unpacking and flicked the light off before falling onto the neatly made bed. Hawkins, Indiana. Crickets and frogs and wheat fields and dirt roads and hot and thick all summer long. Your eyes slipped shut and the lump came back to your throat as you rolled onto your side.

It’s only three months. It’s only three months.

The words looped in your head on repeat as you curled into yourself, exhaustion slowly wrapping around you until you fell away into sleep.

“Got some real shitty friends there, huh?”

Steve’s arms were folded tight over his chest as he glared at Hopper from across the big desk. Tommy and Kyle had made it over the fence and home, because of course they fucking did, and he was here getting an ear full of shit he already knew.

Hop took a long drag from his cigarette and tapped it on the ashtray. Leaning back in his chair he blew smoke up toward the ceiling, not bothering to look at the kid across from him, “Suppose you think you’re gonna get off easy, right? Mommy and daddy come in here and cut me some check, let little Stevie go home, lesson learned.”

“They don’t even know I’m here–”

“Shut up, my turn to talk,” Hop snapped, cutting Steve off as he spun in his chair to lean on the desk. He fixed the boy with a look that shut his mouth right quick. Sucking on his teeth the sheriff shook his head. “You’re all the same. Entitled little assholes,” he hummed in thought, “Same goes for your buddies, Hagan and Peterson, right? Yeah. Well. They ran faster than you, unfortunately.”

Steve let out a heavy sigh and jammed his tongue into his cheek, fighting the urge to snap back at the older man, knowing damn well he was already in for it as it was, “Jesus, can we just get this over with?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Got somewhere to be, Harrington?” Hopper sniped, taking another drag, this time blowing the smoke into Steve’s face. “You’re lucky, I don’t feel like looking at your face anymore,” putting out his cigarette, Hop stood from the desk and snatched up the pile of paperwork in front of him. “Community service oughta do it. Fifteen hours a week all summer at the library, weekends off.”

“Fifteen?? That’s crazy, how am I supposed to—“

“Keep runnin’ your mouth and I’ll make it thirty!” Hop rounded on Steve, leaning down to get in the boy’s face and meet his eye line.

Steve’s chest was heaving as he sucked in air, struggling to keep himself in check as his heart pounded against his ribcage. Hopper shot him a grin.

“Perfect. See you Monday, champ,” he clapped Steve on the back hard enough to make him stumble forward, Asshole, muttered under the younger boy’s breath.

Hop didn’t bother to wait as he walked out of his office and down the steps of the police station. Steve watched through the blinds with balled up fists as the sheriff climbed into his rig and rolled out onto the street.

“Do you need something, hon? Jim won’t be coming back today…” the receptionist called in after him and Steve turned to kick the leg of the chair he’d been sitting in.

“No, just— no,” Steve grumbled and followed the same path Hopper had out into the hot, sticky summer heat, chucks smacking against the pavement as he started the walk home.

His parents didn’t know he’d tried to steal a car, didn’t know he went out drinking, didn’t know how much he longed for their approval, their affection, and didn’t know he was saddled with three months of community service for the rest of the summer.

The last time he’d talked to his dad was the night he’d gone to Tommy’s, begging to do something – something reckless. It had hardly been a conversation, Steve and his father at each other’s throats, yelling until they were both red in the face and saying things that couldn’t be taken back.

“You couldn’t even get into a trade program, Steven! What in the hell am I supposed to do with you??”

"I tried, dad! Do you know how many applications I sent–”

“I don’t give a shit, we’re done. You’ll start at the firm in September.”

“Dad, I don’t want–”

“It doesn’t matter what you want anymore, son. If you’re gonna amount to anything in life it’s obvious I need to step in.”

Steve’s breath caught in his throat as his father’s words ran on a loop in his head.

If you’re going to amount to anything in life. If you’re going to amount to anything in life. If you’re going to amount to anything in life.

The corners of Steve’s eyes prickled with tears, but he threw his gaze up to the ceiling and hastily blinked them away. Finally it was out. What his dad really thought of him. And it hurt more than he wanted to admit. “I don’t need your help,” the boy snapped, turning back around to look his dad in the eyes. Heat rose in his chest, flames crackling and roaring to life, a fire he’d tried to contain all these years, but his father’s words were like gasoline and it was hot and angry now.

“Yeah? And who’s gonna hire a kid out of high school with shit for grades, huh? The only thing on your resume is a damn ice cream shop and video rentals and the real world doesn’t care about basketball or popularity contests, Steven.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Gary, just drop it–”

“Quiet, Carol! He needs to hear this. No one else seems to be able get it to sink in. You wanna be a real man, Steven? Take care of a family, huh? A wife? Get your shit together.”

“Take care of a family?? Are you kidding?” Steve was laughing, but there were tears streaming down his cheeks now as he slammed the chair he’d been gripping onto into the dining room table, “You’re never home, you don’t give a shit about me.”

“Watch your mouth! Ungrateful. I told you Carol. Doesn’t appreciate anything I do for him–”

“I can’t,” Steve threw his hands up as if to shield himself from the words his father was hurling at him, voice thick as he hissed through his tears. Snatching his keys from the hook next to his mom he knew he couldn’t be there anymore.

“Steve, your father doesn’t mean it–”

“I do mean it! Don’t you walk away from me, boy, we’re not done here! I’ve got a flight in the morning and–”

“Yeah? Well gee, dad, have a great trip!” Steve snapped, slamming the door behind him as he left. The tears came more freely then as the hot, sticky summer air hit him, thick and suffocating and too warm. He cranked his BMW to life, speakers screaming as he turned up the volume, and backed out of the drive before ripping down the street toward Tommy’s to steal Jim Hopper’s rig.

Paying no attention to where he was walking, Steve let muscle memory guide him down main street. A light sheen of sweat was clinging to his forehead and brows as the sun beat down on him and his anger faded with each step in the heat. Tommy and Kyle were going to give him so much shit for his community service stint, Steve could already hear them laughing, and he toed a rock into the road. A muttered dammit came forth, eyes still on the ground, but then someone was shouting at him.

“Hey! Watch out!”

Eyes wide, the boy standing in the middle of the sidewalk clearly wasn’t going to move, so you angled your board into the grass and jumped off, hands flying up to grab fistfuls of his shirt as your feet hit the concrete.

“Shit!” he yelped, his own hands grabbing onto to your arms. You stood like that for a moment as if to make sure you were both okay, but then the boy was letting go and pushing himself away from you, threading his fingers through his hair to try and regain his composure. “Watch where you’re going,” he sniped, tone packing more heat than he’d intended.

You scoffed. “Where I’m going?” crossing your arms over your chest you fixed him with a look, “I’m not the one with my eyes glued to the pavement.” Bending down to grab your board, you tucked it under your arm and glared. He was taller than you by at least a few inches, moles chasing along his jaw and cheeks, hazel colored hair messy across his forehead and eyes all warm honey and burnt caramel. He might have been pretty if not for the scowl on his face.

“Pedestrians get the right of way,” he sniped, throwing an arm out toward your skateboard.

“Okay,” huffing a laugh you shouldered past him, but he caught your hand.

“Hey! Where are you going? Shouldn’t you apologize?”

“I’m so sorry,” your voice was sugar and saccharine sweet, but it didn’t match the look on your face as you tossed your board to the ground, “Don’t get run over!”

“Oh nice, really nice!” he yelled after you, and when you glanced over your shoulder to give a wave you laughed at the sight of him. All worked up, hand on his hip, lips twisted into a frown and hair caught up in the heat.

“The nicest!” you called and with a few kicks off the pavement you were gone around the corner toward the gas station for a blue-raspberry Icee, leaving Steve there cursing on the sidewalk with an infuriating curiosity as to who had almost run him over.

SOMETHING INFINITE SYNOPSIS: hawkins, indiana, 1987 – your mom is out of town for the summer on business and she sends you to live with your aunt joyce and her husband jim in hawkins while she’s gone. joyce works at the library and jim is the town sheriff – the kids, will, jonathan and el slowly warm up to you and it’s after you get in with them that you really start to feel at home, but there’s one person who just annoys you to no end. one person you’d love to just boot off a cliff – steve fucking harrington. ♥️ find the rest of the series and more here and find the series playlist on spotify here.

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