#lacuna epilogue
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🗝 key
☁️ — fluff
🌊 — angst
⚡️ — smut
⭐️ — series, spin-off, or prequel/sequel
🎙️ — part of the 1k drabblepalooza milestone event
📓 — part of the 2k drabblepalooza milestone event
🌱 — w.i.p.
navigation. bts permanent taglist. multi permanent taglist. request rules. headcanons.
lacuna series masterlist
aphelion ⭐️ 🌊 ⚡️// prequel to lacuna, strangers to lovers to exes au // kim namjoon was as perfect when you lost him as he was when you found him. — listen to the playlist.
anniversary director's cut — 11/26/23.
lacuna ⭐️ 🌊 ⚡️ // sequel to aphelion, ex-boyfriend au // in his twenty-eight years, kim namjoon had made countless mistakes. most of them were insignificant and could be shoved easily enough into the back corner of his mind. the worst of them were all tied for first place, keeping him up at night. loving you, losing you, and now - picking up the phone. — listen to the playlist.
anniversary director's cut — 11/26/23.
redamancy ⭐️☁️⚡️// sequel to lacuna, exes to lovers au // Kim Namjoon wasn't known for making wise decisions. He acted first and, on rare occasions, he asked questions later. The path he'd taken so far was left broken behind him, but the light at the end of that tunnel sure looked a hell of a lot like you. — listen to the playlist.
anniversary director's cut — 11/26/23.
homecoming ⭐️⚡️ // lacuna au, established relationship au // your husband is out-of-town for two weeks. he may have to keep his hands to himself in the meantime, but that doesn’t mean he can’t tell you what to do with yours. — 1/8/24.
the one with namjoon and the necktie ⚡️📓 // corporate au, workplace rivals to ? au // in which namjoon learns who really has the upper hand. — request fill, 6/21/23
the one where namjoon is a fuck boy at a house party ⚡️ // one-night stand au // in which meeting namjoon for the third time's the charm. — request fill, 12/8/22
the one where namjoon is a "girl dad" ☁️ // established relationship au, dad!joon au // in which namjoon's fondness for crabs might be genetic. — request fill, 12/18/22
the one where namjoon takes you to nyc for christmas ☁️ // established relationship au // in which namjoon has encyclopedic knowledge of the tree at rockefeller plaza. — request fill, 1/16/23
"anywhere" by rita ora ☁️🎙️ // established relationship au //in which namjoon takes you around the world in 80 30 days. — request fill, 1/21/23
"tomorrow's ours" by lights follow ☁️🎙️ // established relationship au // in which namjoon can cure a bad day. — request fill, 1/7/23
the one with namjoon and the u-haul ☁️📓 // brother's best friend au // in which namjoon is buff, jungkook is late, & you're trapped in an elevator. — request fill, 4/12/23
the one with namjoon and the graveyard shift ☁️📓 // doctor au, friends to something au // in which there are two doctors working overnight in the emergency department and only one bed. — request fill, 6/25/23
meet me at the bar ☁️⚡️// law school au, best friends to lovers au // you're supposed to be staring down the barrel of the last — and most important — examination of your life, but you only have eyes for your study buddy.
mmatb: epilogue ⭐️ ☁️ // epilogue drabble for meet me at the bar // as it turns out, there is life after the bar exam.
the one where you cook your friend-slash-roommate, seokjin, dinner ⭐️☁️ // roommates au, friends to lovers au // in which seokjin may have feelings & also food poisoning. — request fill, 12/4/22
the one where seokjin stops being your friend-slash-roommate ⭐️☁️ // roommates au, friends to lovers au // in which seokjin says he loves you & you spit on him. — request fill, 12/18/22
the one with kim seokjin and kim seokjin ☁️ // established relationship au // in which seokjin has a surprise & you can’t get mad, okay? — 12/18/22
the one where seokjin is jealous ☁️ // established relationship au // in which seokjin is a wee bit possessive & jimin is a lawless flirt. — request fill, 12/18/22
the one where your husband, seokjin, is domestic af ☁️ // established relationship au // in which seokjin takes "laundry day" very seriously. — request fill, 12/25/22
the one with seokjin and his fishing partner ☁️🎙 // established relationship au, dad!jin au // in which seokjin finally finds a kim who enjoys fishing. — request fill, 12/30/22
the one with seokjin, soju, and all the stars in the sky ☁️ // established relationship au // in which seokjin is ripped, zipped, zooted, and madly in love. — request fill, 2/26/23
"feel the same" by the millennial club ☁️🎙 // doctor au, friends to lovers au // in which seokjin has sudden, acute lovesickness. — request fill, 1/11/23
the one with seokjin and the marathon ☁️📓 // friends to lovers au // in which seokjin has a lot of thoughts about rupaul's drag race & about you. — request fill, 4/8/23
the one with seokjin and without complaints ☁️📓 // fake dating au, friends to lovers au // in which you’re bad with directions and keeping secrets. — request fill, 5/11/23
"seven" by taylor swift 🌊🎙 // friends to strangers au // in which you can't recall seokjin's name but you've still got love for him. — request fill, 12/31/22
darksided series masterlist
foresight ⭐️☁️⚡️// (flashback) prequel to darksided & blindsided, strangers to lovers au // it all started with a bad joke and a bottle of tanqueray. — listen to the playlist.
darksided ⭐️⚡️ // established relationship au // min yoongi adored you. he'd simply never hurt you — unless you asked. — listen to the playlist.
blindsided ⭐️⚡️ // sequel to darksided, established relationship au // after years of dating, you thought you had min yoongi all figured out — you didn't, and when he flipped the script on you, you never saw it coming. — listen to the playlist.
hindsight 🌱⭐️☁️⚡️// sequel to blindsided, established relationship au // tba
the one where yoongi loves to tease his shy gf ☁️ // established relationship au // in which yoongi loves making you blush in public. — request fill, 12/16/22
the one with yoongi, the cat, and the turf war ☁️ // established relationship au // in which yoongi is jealous of your cat. — request fill, 2/27/23
the one with yoongi, netflix, and zero chill ☁️ // fuck buddies to ? au // in which yoongi has possessions & hobbies… the fuck? — 3/10/23
the one with the doughboy and the greaseball ☁️📓 // childhood friends to ? au, hallmark-esque au // in which someone returns to their hometown, and there are family businesses to run, and stuff. — request fill, 6/14/23
"can't remember to forget you" by shakira ft. rihanna ⚡️🎙️ // exes to… nope, still exes au // in which yoongi is the “best man” & the worst mistake. — request fill, 1/15/23
the one with yoongi and the fucking hydrangeas 🌊📓 // childhood friends to lovers au // in which the runaway bride runs straight to yoongi. — request fill, 4/8/23
interlude: sunrise ⭐️☁️ // darksided au, established relationship au // two years after your first night with min yoongi, you wake up next to him in a parisian hotel.
interlude: sundown ⭐️⚡️// darksided au, established relationship au // as it turns out, your boyfriend can take as much as he gives.
the one where yoongi takes care of you ⭐️☁️ // darksided au, established relationship au // in which you are sick, but yoongi is down bad. — request fill, 11/30/23
problem ⭐️ // darksided au, established relationship au, halloween special // yoongi’s got a problem, and she’s dressed like elvira hancock.
dadchwita vol. i ⭐️☁️ // darksided au, established relationship au // in which you & yoongi have three kids but no sleep. — request fill, 12/23/22
dadchwita vol. ii ⭐️☁️ // darksided au, established relationship au // in which yoongi learns to braid your daughter’s hair. — request fill, 1/2/23
“what sarah said” by death cab for cutie ⭐️🌊🎙️ // darksided au, established relationship au // in which yoongi keeps his vow. — request fill, 12/26/22
liar, liar ⚡️// fwb au // hoseok suspects that you’re “phoning it in” while sexting and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t call your bluff.
the one with hoseok and the teapots (tw: miscarriage implied) 🌊 // hurt/comfort, established relationship au // in which hoseok is fucking sorry, too. — request fill, 3/3/23
the one where hobi loves you - not despite, but regardless (tw: depression) 🌊 // hurt/comfort, established relationship au // in which "the chair" is no match for hoseok. — request fill, 12/6/22
the one where hoseok plays with fire 🌊⚡️📓 // star-crossed lovers au, rival gangs au // in which you are the secret that hoseok would die to keep. — request fill, 4/14/23
"only for a moment" by lola marsh 🌊🎙️ // friends with benefits au, unrequited love au // in which hoseok stays the night but not the morning. — request fill, 1/28/23
"we'll never have sex" by leith ross ☁️🎙️ // newly-established relationship au // in which hoseok kisses you just to kiss you, not to take you home. — request fill, 12/28/22
the one where hoseok comes home ☁️ // established relationship au, october 2024 au // in which love looks different every day, but hoseok never changes. — 4/17/23
the one with hoseok and the magic fingers ☁️📓 // co-workers to ? au // in which there is only one (1) bed. — request fill, 5/24/33
the one with hoseok and the palm reader ☁️📓 // university au, meet cute / strangers to ? au // in which hoseok’s fate line suggests that he’s unlucky, but your presence at this house party suggests otherwise. — request fill, 6/23/23
menace ⭐️ 🌊⚡️// fuck buddies who hate each other au, brother’s best friend au, completed // just because you hate him doesn’t mean you can’t fuck him.
"NFWMB" by hozier ⚡️🎙️ // established relationship au // in which jimin wants to be held by you, felled by you... — request fill, 12/8/22
the one with jimin and all that turbulence⚡️ // one-night flight stand au // in which jimin founds the metric equivalent of the mile high club. — request fill, 3/18/23
the one with the hall pass ⚡️ // established relationship au, threesome // in which you and your boyfriend, taehyung, both want to fuck his best friend. — request fill, 8/13/23
the one with the hall pass pt. ii ⭐️⚡️ // established relationship au, threesome // in which jimin just really loves his friends, okay? — request fill, 11/24/23
the one with jimin and the synonyms ☁️📓 // established relationship au // in which jimin is the king of mental health days. — request fill, 4/28/23
the one where you drunk dial jimin with approx. 5-7 feelings ☁️ // friends to lovers au, idiots in love au // in which jimin commits 43% of the seven deadly sins in one fell swoop. — request fill, 12/23/22
the one with jimin and the boomerang ☁️ // friends to lovers au // in which jimin ponders death, taxes, and other inevitable things. — request fill, 3/6/23
the one with the clownfish and the anemone ☁️📓 // fuck buddies to friends to lovers au // in which your relationship with jimin goes backwards. — request fill, 6/24/23
the one where your brother, jimin, believes you (tw: implied sexual assault) 🌊 // hurt/comfort, siblings au // in which jimin is there to listen if & when you want to talk. — request fill, 12/17/22
reckless serenade ⭐️⚡️ // sequel to “the bad thing” drabble, infidelity au // your husband hasn’t looked at you in months, but his co-worker, kim taehyung, can’t keep his eyes off you.
"the bad thing" by arctic monkeys ⭐️⚡️🎙️ // infidelity au // in which taehyung takes a big swing and your wedding ring. — request fill, 1/5/23
the one with the hall pass ⚡️ // established relationship au, threesome // in which you and your boyfriend, taehyung, both want to fuck his best friend. — request fill, 8/13/23
the one with the hall pass pt. ii ⭐️⚡️ // established relationship au, threesome // in which jimin just really loves his friends, okay? — request fill, 11/24/23
the one where taehyung buys you mandu and tampons during your period ☁️ // hurt/comfort, established relationship au // in which taehyung is not only a good boy, but the best boy. — request fill, 12/23/22
the one where taehyung skips a date to build your ikea furniture ☁️ // childhood friends to lovers au // in which taehyung sacrifices his friday night to the hasvik. — request fill, 1/25/23
the one with taehyung and the rook 🌊📓 // enemies to lovers au, chaebol au // in which taehyung plays the long game. — request fill, 5/4/23
the one with taehyung’s indecent proposal 📓☁️ ⚡️// fake relationship au, fuck buddies to ? au // in which taehyung would rather die than show up single to a class reunion. — request fill, 6/12/23
stay ☁️ ⚡️ // best friends to lovers au // “jungkook." his name was merely a sigh flying out of your lungs and through your parted lips. “if we do this — if we go down this road — how do we go back?” — listen to the playlist.
title tbd 🌱🌊⚡️ // enemies to lovers au, post-nuclear apocalypse au (insp. by fallout series), raider!jk // tba
the one with jungkook, the weekender, and the impossibilities 🌊 // established relationship au // in which jungkook is bad at prioritizing & somehow even worse with words. — request fill, 3/18/23
the one with jungkook and the sharpshooter 🌊 📓 // enemies to lovers au, hurt/comfort, mafia au // in which you shoot first and plan later. — request fill, 4/22/23
the one where jungkook has to sleep on the couch 🌊 // established relationship au // in which jungkook finds a loophole in the most jungkook way possible. — request fill, 12/16/22
the one where jungkook thinks you’re perfect (tw: body image issues) ⭐️🌊 // hurt/comfort, established relationship au // in which jungkook is down bad. — request fill, 12/7/22
the one where he thinks you’re perfect (jjk pov) ⭐️🌊 // hurt/comfort, established relationship au // in which jungkook is down incurably bad. — request fill, 12/27/22
"hey old friend" by dearly somber 🌊🎙️ // best friends to strangers au, missed connection au // in which the hotline, to your knowledge, did not bling. — request fill, 1/27/23
the one where jungkook gives you a tattoo ☁️ // strangers to ? au // in which jungkook thinks ghosts should mind their own damn business. — request fill, 2/26/23
the one with jungkook and terpsichore ☁️ // established relationship au // in which jungkook watches you pole dance & goes mildly-to-moderately feral. — request fill, 3/15/23
the one who bites and the one who doesn’t ☁️ // newly-established relationship au // in which you face the final boss: jeon bam. — request fill, 3/13/23
the one with jungkook, his son, and the lightbulb ☁️ // established relationship au, dad!kook au // in which jungkook wants to be the very best (dad), like no one ever was. — request fill, 1/16/23
the one where jungkook is the world's clingiest/softest bf ☁️ // established relationship au // in which jungkook fashions himself into a weighted blanket. — request fill, 12/3/22
"more than you know" by axewell /\ ingrosso ☁️ // established relationship au // in which jungk— is that a boombox? in the year of our lord, 2023? seriously? — request fill, 1/28/23
the one where jungkook isn’t dreaming ⭐️ ☁️ // stay au, friends to lovers au, morning after au // in which jungkook has pinched himself, like, four (4) times already. — request fill, 12/30/22
#bts#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts series#namjoon x reader#seokjin x reader#yoongi x reader#bts drabble#hoseok x reader#jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#jungkook x reader#jade writes#jade's masterlist#jade's drabbles#jade's requests
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A Fine Line [Masterlist]
Pairing: Namjoon x f!reader (ft. Hoseok)
Genre: roommates/enemies-to-lovers, non-idol!au, smut, some angst
Total word count: 67.5k (95k including epilogues and bonuses)
Summary: It's time to rebuild your life. You've got a new job, a new apartment, and a future that might be bright. The only problem? Your new roommate.
Content: consumption of alcohol, protected sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. and m. receiving, inc. throat fucking), masturbation (f. and mention of m.), spanking, biting, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, some seriously Big Dicks.
Enormous thanks to M, 💗@here2bbtstrash💗, for beta-ing this series for me.
Chapter One - Desperate Times
Chapter Two - A Distraction
Chapter Three - It's Not Complicated
Chapter Four - A Warning
Chapter Five - Fun and Games
Chapter Six - Fury and the First Time
Chapter Seven - Lacunae
Chapter Eight - Confessions
Chapter Nine - Watershed
Chapter Ten - Grasping the Nettle
Chapter Eleven - Luxury
Epilogue One - Hope
Epilogue Two - 'Tis the Season
Epilogue Three - Final Order
Epilogue Four - Yes
Bonus Chapter - Fear and the First Date
Bonus Chapter - Check
Bonus Chapter - Deer Tracks
#namjoon x reader#namjoon fic#namjoon#namjoon smut#bts x reader#bts fic#bts smut#namjoon angst#bts angst
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SGE Characters as Literary Things
(Not all of these are actual literary or rhetorical devices; some are just writing techniques, forms, genres, mediums, etc.)
This is a bit abstract, so I’m curious about how subjective these might be. Does anyone agree or disagree? And feel free to make additions if you think I left anything out, or request another character that isn’t here.
Hopefully this makes (intuitive?) sense. As always, I'm willing to explain my thought process behind any of the things I've listed.
Also, anyone can treat this like a “Tag Yourself” meme, if you want. Whose list do you most relate to, use, or encounter?
⸻
LANCELOT (I know—how odd that I’m starting with a minor character and not Rafal, but wait. There’s a method to my madness. Also, watch out for overlap!):
Metonymy, synecdoche (no, literally, to me, these are him.)
Zeugma
Analogy
Figures of speech
Slang, argot
Colloquialisms
Idioms
TEDROS:
Simile
Metaphor
Rhyming couplets
Rhyme schemes
Sonnets
Commercial fiction
Coming-of-age genre
Line enjambment
Overuse of commas
Cadence, prose speech
Waxing poetic, verse (not prose)
Alliteration
Kinesthetic imagery
Phallic imagery/sword sexual innuendos (sorry)
The chivalric romance genre
AGATHA:
Anaphora, repetition
Semicolon, periods
Line breaks
Terse, dry prose
Semantics (not syntax)
Elegy
Resonance
Consonance, alliteration
Pseudonym
Narrative parallels
Realism
Satire
SOPHIE:
Sophistry (yes, there is a word for it!)
Imagery
Italics, emphasis
Em dash
Aphrodisiac imagery
Unreliable narrator, bias
Rashomon effect
Syntax (not semantics)
Diction
Chiasmus (think: “Fair is foul and foul is fair.”)
Rhetorical purpose
Provocation, calls to action
Voice, writing style
Rhetorical modes: pathos, logos, ethos
Metaphor
Hyperbole, exaggeration
Sensationalism, journalism
Surrealism
Verisimilitude
Egocentrism
Callbacks (but not foreshadowing or call-forwards)
Narrative parallels
Paralepsis, occultatio, apophasis, denial
Hypothetical dialogue
Monologue
JAPETH:
Sibilance
Lacuna
Villanelle (an obsessive, repetitive form of poetry)
Soliloquy
ARIC:
Sentence fragments
RHIAN (TCY):
Unreliable narrator
Setup, payoff
Chekhov’s gun
Epistolary novel
RHIAN (prequels):
Multiple povs
Perspective
Dramatic irony
Situational irony
Chiaroscuro (in imagery)
Endpapers
Frontispiece
Deckled edges
Narrative parallels
Foreshadowing
Call-forwards
Foil
Death of the author
RAFAL:
Omniscient narrator
Perspective
Surrealism
Etymology
Word families or 'linguistic ecosystems'
Latin
Verbal irony
Gallows humor
Narrative parallels
Call-forwards
Circular endings
Parallel sentences or balanced sentence structure
Narrative parallels
Foil
Juxtaposition
Authorial intent (“return of the author”)
HESTER:
Protagonist
Allusions
Gothic imagery
ANADIL:
Defamiliarization
Deuteragonist (second most important character in relation to the protagonist)
Psychic distance
Sterile prose
Forewords, prologues
Works cited pages
DOT:
Tone
Gustatory imagery
Tritagonist (third most important character in relation to the protagonist)
KIKO:
Sidekick
Falling action
Dedications, author's notes, epigraph, acknowledgements
Epitaph (Tristan)
BEATRIX:
Pacing
Rising Action
Climax
HORT:
Unrequited love
Falling resolution
Anticlimax
Malapropism
Innuendo
Asides
Brackets, parentheses
Cliché
EVELYN SADER:
Synesthetic imagery
Villanelle
Foreshadowing
AUGUST SADER:
Stream of consciousness style
Imagery
Foreshadowing
Coming-of-age genre
Elegy
Omniscience
Rhetorical questions
Time skips, non-linear narratives
Epilogues
MARIALENA:
Diabolus ex machina
Malapropism
Malaphors, mixed metaphors
Slant rhyme
Caveat
Parentheses
Footnotes
MERLIN:
Deus ex machina
Iambic pentameter
Filler words
BETTINA:
Screenwriting
Shock value
#school for good and evil#sge#sfgae#the school for good and evil#tsfgae#the camelot years#rise of the school for good and evil#rotsge#rotsfgae#fall of the school for good and evil#fotsge#fotsfgae#my post#tedros#tedros of camelot#agatha of woods beyond#sophie of woods beyond#rafal#rafal mistral#rhian#rhian mistral#rhian sader-mistral#japeth#japeth sader-mistral#japeth of foxwood#merlin of ginnymill#marialena#I can't tag everyone#there's too many
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I know I said I wanted Syzygy done by the end of this year, but... uh.... yeah, probably not going to happen unless I get wild in this last week-and-a-half. Good news, though: I've finally got the brainpower to start working on that final chapter and epilogue! It's going to be slow going, because my draft of this bit is full of more holes and lacunae than a Dead Sea Scroll treatise on the nature of Swiss motherfucking cheese, but it's happening.
#Syzygy#writing stuff#the other good news is that the last two chapters of os rosa act one ARE pretty much ready for a final read-over-and-post#so you'll probably be getting the thomas and janus pov chapters VERY soon
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Cyprus introduces additional corporate tax residency test
1. Introduction
As of 31 December 2022, a major development relating to the Cyprus corporate tax residency test came into force in Cyprus, affecting Cyprus incorporated/registered companies which have their management and control exercised outside Cyprus and are no tax residency in any other jurisdiction, bringing the epilogue of Cyprus stateless companies.
2. Previous corporate tax residency
Before 31 December 2022, the only corporate residency test was the management and control test – a company would be considered as a tax resident of Cyprus if its management and control were exercised in Cyprus.
The above corporate tax residency test will continue to apply along the addition below - a company that has its management and control in Cyprus will continue to be considered as a tax resident of Cyprus, i.e. its tax residency status will not be affected by the Amendment Law.
3. Additional corporate tax residency test
The amendment 193(I)/2021 (the “Amendment Law”), introduced in the Income Tax Law, 118(I)/2002 (the “Law”), an additional corporate tax residency test by amending the definition of the meaning, “Resident in the Republic” in section 2 of the Law, introducing:
“It is provided that, a company which has been established or registered pursuant to any law in force in the Republic [of Cyprus], of which its management and control is exercised outside the Republic [of Cyprus], it is considered that it is resident in the Republic [of Cyprus], unless the said company is tax resident in any other country”.
In essence, introduced the Incorporation Test for corporate tax residency in Cyprus i.e. any company incorporated/registered in Cyprus will, by default, be considered a tax resident in Cyprus, unless it is (a) managed and controlled outside Cyprus; and (b) it is a tax resident in another jurisdiction.
4. Our Comment
The application of only the management and control test gave rise to the creation of what is commonly referred to as “stateless companies”.
Whereas a Cyprus-incorporated company, which had its management and control in another country, would not have been regarded as a Cyprus tax resident - thus outside the scope of Cyprus tax. A lacuna would thus be created, if the country in which the Cyprus company had its management and control applied only the incorporation test, such as the U.S. or Sweden, resulting in the company not being within the charge to foreign tax as it was not incorporated in that jurisdiction.
This mismatch resulted in a company not being liable to tax in either country - thus becoming a stateless company.
The Amendment Law seeks to remedy the above lacuna. The addition of the new test ensures that a Cyprus-incorporated company must be considered tax-resident in a jurisdiction and cannot remain stateless. This move indicates Cyprus’s commitment to be in line with the OECD on Base Erosion and Profit Shifting (BEPS) in countering international double non-tax arrangements.
The above will impact Cyprus companies that are currently managed and controlled in a country, such as the U.S. or Sweden, and not tax residents there due to the incorporation test of residency in that state.
5. Our Services - Lytras & Associates LLC
Lytras & Associates is an independent conflict-free boutique law firm based in Cyprus that specialises in cross-border corporate & commercial work. We approach each case meticulously and devotedly by having specialised tight-knit teams with internal and external specialists in international tax law for each project allows. Please contact us if you are interested in the following:
Advice on tax optimisation within your business or private wealth planning;
Advanced structuring to ensure eligibility for tax relief under domestic laws, double taxation agreements and EU directives;
Restructurings, including mergers and acquisitions, takeovers, and transfers of seat from and into Cyprus; and
Tax Rulings & Compliance.
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Lacuna - Epilogue (f.o)
summary: they say the odds tend to favor those who need them. well, they were wrong.
warnings; swearing.
wc; 2.5k
NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.
–
You take a deep breath, readjusting in the heels. Lately, you’ve been wearing them a lot again. They’ve begun to make your feet sore and leave blisters on the back of your heels. If you’re lucky, you won’t start bleeding. No matter the medicine that Elysia provides, they always seem to bleed or form again.
Lucky for you, it’s nearing the end of the tour. This district, and then twelve, and then you’re back home to enjoy your house. They’ll still come around to pester you about how you’re doing. But that will be fine, you’ll answer the questions like you have before. They’ll be bored of you by next year.
There’s no reason for them to ask Finnick questions. He’s with Caesar almost every single night, on his talk show. Then there’s the little news anchors, and all the other tv shows where he has an opportunity to show up. You don’t know if it’s an act anymore, or if it’s who he really is.
He’s all he ever was during the interviews, the mask seems to have stuck. He’s charming, and confident, and so goddamn cocky. He’s got all the girls in your district swooning over him, even if they can’t watch his shows, the news, or Caesar’s fucking talk show. The boy you knew to hate everything about the Capitol is gone.
The question is if this is who he was all along. If he loved the Capitol, and the riches, because it looks like it. You stopped seeing the wave ring he was supposed to be wearing--he promised you before he left that he would wear it every time he knew he’d be publicly appearing. He replaced it with something else, the sign of the Capitol.
They wouldn’t have forced him to replace it, because they’re always broadcasting your love story. There’s continuous love notes from Finnick, either him writing them on the show, or just saying it straight out. Some of the time the cameras will come around and you’ll stand out there in the snow and pretend like you’re in love. You manage to do well each time, they can’t tell if you’re blushing or if it's just the weather.
In reality, your love for him is turning to ice. Freezing in place, and when the summer comes around, it’ll melt for him when--if--he comes back to help you with mentoring. You don’t plan to let it blossom again in the summer, you plan to end it as soon as you’re face to face with Finnick.
Because while he’s in the Capitol, enjoying every moment of being showered with money and love from the Capitol people. While he’s going on talk shows and getting to know the enemy more, the people that had gotten his family killed. While he’s replacing a ring with sentimental value with something new and shiny from the Capitol.
While he’s out there with other girls that aren’t you. And professing his undying love on that same talk show instead of in person. And ignoring all the letters of you send him begging him to come home. And then bailing on you.
You’re doing the tour alone. You’re doing the speeches and taking the plaques and faking smiles and pretending you’re enjoying yourself. You’re facing the families both you and him killed together or seperate. You’re meeting the victors who absolutely despise you and the families that want to kill you.
You’re burning flowers in the train bathroom at night and fighting all instincts to ruin the fucking trophies that belong to him. But since he’s so sickeningly into the Capitol, you keep them and throw them into his empty bed. They clatter and clink when they’re up against each other, but they never dent or break.
You’re having nightmares about dying in the arena. About watching Finnick catch typhoid and it being your mistake. Watching him turn pale and weak from your dumbass mistake. You dying from hanging like Lennox or the girl that you had trapped in that net. What about being strung out like leather to be torn apart by bears or being awake for half a second as someone you thought was an ally drives a knife into the back of your head.
Or an innocent twelve year old boy who just wants to go home to his mom and dad. The girl you beheaded at the beginning. What if that had been Finnick or one of the others when you swung too early? You watch yourself kill these people, and take their places right after.
And this is all happening because Finnick had broken his promise of being on the tour with you. If he were to show up now, you would tell him to go home. Tell him that you never want to see or talk to him again, and you mean it. Because knowing that he broke all those promises that you guys made to each other so blatantly is so damn painful.
Finnick gets to enjoy his Capitol people. The nice clothes from his designers and wake up in a comfy bed every morning, fully rested. Or at least he’s rested enough to be sane for the entire day. You, on the other hand, are nowhere near sane.
Last night you had skipped sleeping, and found different ways to keep yourself awake. The first and the only one being, making a giant list of the things that you wouldn’t have minded trying with Finnick. Touring the Capitol together, going to the beach, getting engaged, married, having kids. Getting matching tattoos or some dumb cosmetic thing that would alter you. Officially welcome him to your family.
The list was long, and you folded it up neatly and handed it to Elysia to pass on to Finnick when she’d see him. That’ll be in a couple of days, but it’ll be sooner than you’re prepared for. You have district eleven, then twelve, and then you’ll take the train home. There, you’ll make a small appearance and give a speech or something. After that you’ll be left in the dark permanently. People will be excited for what’s to come.
One of them being, this will be your first year mentoring, and it looks like you’ll be doing it alone. It was one of the things on the list, mentoring with Finnick and getting those kids skilled enough to win. Make a streak or something, a challenge for the other districts to beat four. The houses would be full, every year families will be fed for a couple of days without worry of going hungry.
It’s not going to happen. You’re going to take over for Mags, accept the fact that you’ll be teaching these kids alone, and you’ll be forced to watch it all happen. It’ll go from Mags watching kids die, to you watching. Because in reality, it was mostly luck in the arena.
You’ve come up with an idea while you’ve been on this tour, thinking about how each person has died, and you decided that you’ll make a class almost. One that kids can tune in and out of any time. Where you teach them to tie knots and throw knives, start fires and prepare food. How to make shelter out of scarce items, how to avoid getting sick and all of that.
A pre-preparation class. You teach these kids, all this information, and then when they’re finally picked you get to expand on it all. You get to show them extra things that you haven't taught before. You show them how to get sponsors, and make friends that you’ll need.
You’re sure that the other districts are going to be very careful when it comes to alliances from now on. There’s going to be a reason why you don’t invite four to the alliance pack, and that’s because you and Finnick were a bunch of backstabbers. Gloss and Cashmere will see this, and they’ll decide that they won’t let it happen again. Hell, you guys might be the target from now on. Take out three to avoid the chances of you guys even making allies in the first place.
On that list you had made for Finnick, with all the things you wanted to do with him, you ended it quite bitterly. Like this is a warning for what’s to come when you do see him next. Even if he doesn’t come back any time soon, you’ll go to him. You’ll show up with Caesar on their own personal talk show and you’ll throw it in his face. Say it’s over and it will never be what it was. That you had done all the work while he had all the fun.
The celebrations, the victory tour, the after-interviews. And now you’ll be mentoring people all while he gets to party in the Capitol. What a joke. Especially to think that only a couple of months ago he was crying on your shoulder about it. You can’t believe that you were sympathetic in the slightest.
At the bottom of the list you wrote ‘but none of this will ever happen, and maybe that’s for the better’. It’ll be a slap to the face, maybe it’ll actually get him to respond to anything you’ve sent him.
Him reading those love poems with Caesar aren’t responses. Because you ask him genuine questions, and you elaborate on what’s going on. You try to plan out things, like him visiting and when it’d work best based on Elysia’s schedule. You tell him when the Victory Tour is and when he should be at the district. Days before so that he’ll be able to properly adjust and you can give him advice on how to take care of it.
The doors suddenly open, and you hear the clapping and the few cheers. On your walk down the stairs to the stage, you can see the faces of the people that belong to district eleven. You can see the hatred in their eyes and they want to come up here and kill you. There’s a wall of peacekeepers that keep them down, though.
You get passed some flowers, you thank the girl that hands them to you. Obviously the other girl has no clue what to do, since Finnick isn’t here to take them. The memo hasn’t passed even though you’ve been on this tour for weeks. Finnick is a no-show, just like he will be in district twelve.
When you step up to the microphone you pull out the cards that you had wrote yourself. They don’t seem so smart now that you’re staring at their families. But you take a deep breath, let it out and begin.
You have no fear of speaking in front of people. They could give you the entire nation in one huge district and you’d still be able to talk fine. But there’s a difference between one large crowd of people you don’t know, versus people that have watched you kill their kids.
At the end is when you begin to stumble a little bit, the speech being too long. You manage to clean it up last minute, and offer the crowd one winning smile. They clap and some cheer but you know that it’s to make it look like they’re cooperating. You wonder if they know that you wouldn’t have killed the boy from eleven if you had the chance. That you had saved Thyme, even if in the end you cheered when she was the one dead.
You’re about to wrap it up, but the sound of footsteps stop you, and when you look over your shoulder, the smile on your face drops. Seeing him here, on this stage is infuriating. Him showing up because of Thyme has already got you seeing red.
He tries to smile at you, and go to offer you a small hug and possibly a kiss with that, but you stop him. You don’t want him. You don’t want him after all that has happened.
Because this is salt on the ice. You’re going to explode if he lays a finger on you. You’re going to explode simply at the sight of him. And at the thought of him coming here to give a speech because of Thyme.
In fact, you lean forward to the mic, “Thank you, District Eleven for your tributes.” and then you hike up your dress as you turn to the staircase.
The people are obviously confused, there are a few people who clap. You watch as the peacekeepers move out of the way for you. The doors open and Elysia is standing inside with her mouth open.
“What was that?” she asks, motioning behind you.
You breeze past her, already tearing off the bracelets, earrings, rings, and everything else. Laurel is standing there with a box for everything, holding it out as she watches you toss the jewelry in, ignoring being careful. Next are the heels, that you trade for flats.
Beth holds out regular clothes for you, and you hear the door to the building open, from the same place you came in. One the door clicks shut, you turn to look over your shoulder, and he stands there with his hands out in a reasoning position. But you’re beyond reasoning right now.
“No, Finnick.” you snarl at him, but the angry tears are forming in your eyes, and your throat is closing up, “You don’t get to show up at District Eleven’s part of the tour, and expect me to kiss you in front of them. Especially when I know that you’re here for her!”
Finnick is silent, and you take in a gasp of air because you’re sobbing already, “You enjoy tonight. Enjoy the festivities because this is what you’re here for. Your stupid fucking flowers and plaques and certificates that I had to collect for you, are on your bed in the train.”
“(Y/n)--”
“I told you when we’d be going on the tour and I’ve had to do it alone for ten different fucking district, Finnick!” you go forward, shoving Finnick and watching him stumble, “I’m facing the families of the tributes you killed!” you shove him again, this time he falls, the peacekeepers move forward, “In fact, I saw all of them for you! You didn’t kill Thyme so she doesn’t fucking count!”
“That’s enough, (Y/n).” Elysia tries, but you’re not done.
“Go home Finnick.”
“I am home--”
“Not with me you’re not.” you snap at him, “Your home is the Capitol, and you know what? You can fuckign stay there for all I care. You can also move back into your own goddamn house, since you’re never home anyway. There’s no point in keeping your stuff in my house if we’re not together anymore.”
The tears gather in Finnick’s eyes, and you’re tired of it. You’re not going to be sucked right back into this, “Please.”
“We’ve over Finnick. Party like you’ll never see the sun tonight, because you’re not going to district twelve with me. You’ll be going back to the Capitol.”
You turn again, leaving for some adjacent room in the building. Waiting for your tears to spill over, but they dry.
You’re over it.
--
LACUNA IS THE FIRST VERSION OF BELAMOUR
//MASTERLIST//
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just out of reach - m.list
Summary: Iwaizumi and Oikawa were always within arms reach of the other, but what happens when misunderstandings and unspoken emotions drive them apart? What happens when everything they thought they knew about the other ceases to be true and they are left to pick the pieces of their friendship up…alone?
Pairings: Alpha!Iwaizumi x Omega!Oikawa
Warnings: Angst, Slow-burn, Friends to strangers, Strangers to friends, Occasional smut, Mentions of depression, manipulation, gaslighting, anxiety, toxic behaviors.
Rating: 18+ Tag list: Open (send an ask to be added)
Word Count: 65,660 (as of latest chapter)
Updates: Irregular Last Updated: May 22, 2022
JOOR Headcanons
JOOR Playlist
JOOR - OC profile 1
JOOR - OC profile 2
JOOR - OC profile 3
JOOR - OC profile 4
Prologue: latibule
Chapter One: habromania
Chapter Two: eccedentesiast
Chapter Three: induratize
Chapter Four: eshajōri
Chapter Five: whelve
Chapter Six: waldosia
Bonus Chapter One: nepenthe
Bonus Chapter Two: acquiesce
Chapter Seven: setsunai
Chapter Eight: anaziphilla
Chapter Eight.Five: lacuna
Chapter Nine: rubatosis
Chapter Ten: retrouvailles
Chapter Eleven: sillage
Chapter Twelve: resfeber
Chapter Thirteen: kairos
Chapter Fourteen: selcouth
Chapter Fifteen: metanoia
Chapter Sixteen: petrichor
Chapter Seventeen: natsukashii
Chapter Eighteen: ephialtes
Chapter Nineteen: sciamachy
Chapter Twenty: saudade
Epilogue: ikigai
hq m.list
#haikyuu#haikyuu omegaverse#iwaoi omegaverse#oikawa tooru#iwaizumi hajime#haikyuu iwaoi#hq iwaoi#haikyuu oikawa#haikyuu iwaizumi#oikawa x iwaizumi#iwaizumi x oikawa#omega oikawa#alpha iwaizumi#iwaoi slow burn#haikyuu oiiwa#hq oiiwa#omegaverse au#kteabug joor
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Lacuna - Epilogue
- Characters: Johnny Suh x members of nct
- Category: single parent au, fluff, slight angst
- Word count: 6k
- Warnings: -
- Navigation: prologue | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue
- Author’s notes: hello I am so emotional because I can’t believe this is really the end of the series.. I initially wrote this for my dearest friend who’s so close to my heart, but somehow along the way, a lot of you followed, patiently waited and liked this story and I will always and forever be grateful to all of you. I’ve grown so attached to this series and knowing it’s the end now is making me so sad yet so happy at the same time. I really hope this epilogue makes up for all the angst we’ve all been through the past few chapters and that it meets all of your expectations. I love you all heaps and bunches and thank you for reading and staying with me throughout this series. happy reading my sweet! x
“Daddy’s home!” You say to Youngho excitedly when you hear the front door slide open with Johnny now possessing keys to your house.
Youngho immediately drops his pencil on the table, completely forgetting about his unfinished homework, hopping off the chair and racing towards the front door to see Johnny taking off his shoes by the hallway.
“Daddy!” Youngho exclaims, his voice rippling through the house.
“Hey buddy,” Johnny greets with a warm smile that reaches his eyes and lowers himself to meet Youngho’s outstreched arms for him. “How was school today?”
“Really good! My teacher said I draw really well,” Youngho brags proudly, standing tall when Johnny lets go of him.
Johnny grins and ruffles Youngho’s hair, “I’m so proud of you! Good job!” Letting his eyes scan the hallway, his natural instinct is to look for you. “Is mommy around?”
“Kitchen!” Youngho replies and walks off.
You emerge by the hallway then, arms crossed across your chest, a bashful smile on your lips as you watch Johnny tug at his tie to loosen it, still clad in his tux after being at work all day. He looked divine, to say the least, even when the stresses of the day has beaten him down to a pulp.
Johnny’s face lights up immediately when his eyes land on you, his shoulders drooping unknowingly, already feeling a thousand times calmer at the sight of you. “Hey you.” He opens his arms, the gaze in his eyes inviting you and you try so hard not to melt because this was your reality now.
“Hey,” you greet shyly, walking towards him and reaching upwards to circle your arms around his neck just as he wraps his around your waist, his embrace firm, burying his face into your shoulder.
“Missed you,” you hear him mumble.
You chuckle, your insides warm, “When do you not?”
“Good question,” Johnny replies, lifting his head off your shoulder and pulling himself back so that he can look at you, his arms never leaving you. “But would it hurt if you said it back? Even if you have to lie?”
You laugh just as a teasing smile lifts on his face. “Missed you,” you finally say. “And that’s not a lie.”
Johnny bites at his lower lip to suppress his smile from getting wider, the woman of his dreams finally so close to him like this, feeling like the luckiest man on earth, because well, he’s convinced he was.
“Beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes glazing over every single one of your features, nothing but love and affection in his shining orbs. Johnny’s ducking his head, resting his forehead against yours in the process, determined to plant a kiss on your lips and you’re closing your eyes as he’s doing so, wanting nothing more than to feel him closer.
When you feel his breath against your skin, heartbeat skyrocketing and mind hazy with the thought of him, you’re quick to let go of him when Youngho’s voice jolts you both. “Mommy! I need help with this question!”
You’re suddenly chuckling, the disappointment in Johnny’s face too amusing for you not to make fun of. “Maybe later,” you tease but you lean on your tip toes anyway to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, hoping it’ll make do for now before walking away from him to tend to your son.
Johnny finds you and Youngho side by side on the dining table with you assisting Youngho on a particular question for his homework, your eyes focused on him as he jots down what comes to his mind after your direction. Johnny leans on the doorframe, revelling in the sight in front of him, falling in awe that this was his very own family and to make things even better, a family with the love of his life, his first love, you.
“Good job baby,” you praise when Youngho finishes the final question, squishing his cheeks in between your palms and planting a kiss on his forehead.
Not only were you an amazing lover, you were the best mother too.
When you spot Johnny watching you interact with Youngho with a soft smile, you tilt your head to the side, silently questioning him for just standing there, he just gives you another heart-stopping smile before he’s shaking his head and finally moving from his spot to join you both on the table.
“What do you boys want to eat for dinner?” you ask when Johnny takes a seat beside Youngho, helping you put away his books into his backpack.
“Pizza!” Youngho cheers.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you counter, knowing how much junk Youngho’s been having recently and plus it had been an agreement between you two that treats were saved for Fridays, a few more days to go until then.
“But mommy—“
“A healthier option maybe baby.”
Youngho pouts but when an idea pops up in his head, he’s suddenly turning to Johnny who’s just finished zipping his backpack when he places the last book inside. He’s tugging on Johnny’s sleeve, puppy eyes ogling up at him.
“Daddy,” he whispers.
When Johnny grasps what he’s trying to imply, he slowly trails his eyes over to you to which is met by a knowing gaze, already aware of what your son was trying to do.
“I think pizza sounds good!” Johnny suddenly announces and it makes you roll your eyes because these two were already scheming with one another, making it two against one.
So that’s how you find yourselves lounging in the living room with a box of pizza on thhe coffee table, Youngho’s favourite movie playing on the television after yet another successful persuasion from the two to allow him to watch on a school night. Youngho is wedged in between you and Johnny, a blanket big enough draped over your laps. Every now and again, Youngho would tug at Johnny’s sleeve when his favourite part would come up and it makes Johnny pay extra attention, asking Youngho in return why certain parts have become his favourite. And it doesn’t take long before Youngho’s snoozing, head falling towards your side. So when the movie ends and Johnny’s turned the television off, Johnny lifts Youngho in his arms as you watch him with a fond smile, thanking the heavens for blessing your life with such an endearing man whose affection for his son literally oozes in the way he looks at him.
When Johnny returns a few minutes later, he returns to his seat on the couch, only this time, he sits much closer to you, his shoulder touching with yours as you work to make sure he’s under the blanket just as much as you were. He’s reaching for your hand and when gets a hold of it, he interlocks his fingers with yours, his skin warm and soft. You lean your head on his shoulder, exhaling a breath of relief.
“Finally some time alone with you,” Johnny muses, turning his head slightly to kiss your head. He’s rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb as he rests his head on top of yours. “I missed this.”
“Me too,” you agree quietly. “Actually, I missed a lot of things.”
“Enlighten me.”
You shrug your shoulders, “Just.”
Johnny stays silent for a few seconds, merely gazing at the side of your face, smiling gently, literal hearts oozing out of his eyes. “I missed you the most,” he murmurs. “I missed your voice, I missed your hugs, I missed your kisses.”
You chuckle.
“Cheesy.”
“But true,” Johnny reiterates. He’s raising his free hand and it lands on your cheek as you lift your head off his shoulder so that you can look at him, “Remember the letter I wrote you?”
“Mhm.”
“I meant every single word, I still do,” Johnny’s staring into your eyes, gentle and warm orbs that you lose yourself into, a literal window to the depths of his soul; kind, compassionate, loving. “What’s better now is that I get to tell you whenever I want and need to.”
“And here I was crying over you denying what you said when you were drunk,” you say, turning away from him, the memory of that devastating time making you grimace.
Johnny laughs and it vibrates through his chest as he throws his head back. “It’s not funny,” you sulk. “That one hurt.”
“Babe, I lied to you because I thought you chose someone else over me,” Johnny points out when he settles down, catching his breath.
The hairs on your skin stand immediately at the nickname, the thought of it being directed at you making you feel all sorts of emotions inside. “Yeah and look where you assumptions brought you. If you would’ve just asked or let me finished talking—”
Johnny rests his forehead on the side of your head, “I know, I know. I’m sorry for being stubborn.” His hand leaves yours just so he can lift your legs so that it rests on top of his thighs, wanting you close as possible. You’re chuckling as you encircle your arms around his neck, resting the side of your head on his shoulder. “If it makes you feel better, I'm still as crazy about you as the first day I met you,” Johnny sighs, planting a kiss on your forehead.
Everything stills from then on, with you just taking in this moment with Johnny, so content and calm having him this close as his arms tighten themselves around your waist, his palms squeezing them every now and again. No matter how many years have passed, he was still the Johnny you remembered him to be and maybe even better now because he was here for you to hold. And he’s still as expressive as you remember him to be, always facing his emotions face front, no reluctance in confessing how he felt for you, especially with what he says next.
“I love you, y/n.”
It comes out in a low whisper, so delicate, words only for you.
Your home was finally home.
“What are you doing here?”
Your tone is questioning, eyebrow raised but there’s a bashful smile on your face when you see Johnny exit his car, his tie already loose around his neck when he reaches you by the gates of your preschool. He takes your bag from you and plants a chaste kiss on your cheek.
“Picking up my girlfriend from work, what else?” Johnny replies casually and moves to open the passenger seat for you.
You’re trying so hard not to crumble, but the blush that’s creeping up on your cheeks is surely giving you away right now. So you duck your head to avoid Johnny's gaze and scurry to get into the car so that you can take a deep breath to calm yourself. It feels just like the time Johnny courted you during the earlier years of your youth.
“How was work today babe?” Johnny asks as he revs the engine of his car to life, eyes on the road after strapping your seatbelt for you and he doesn’t stop there because once you’re settled in your seat, he’s reaching for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and keeping it in place on his thigh.
You’re smiling as you train your eyes on the road ahead, afraid that if you glanced at the man who’s making your heart thump, you’d literally melt. “Okay, the usual, the kids are still as cute as ever.”
Johnny smiles and brings your palm up so that he can kiss the back of your hand. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“How about yours?” You ask, finally having the courage to look at him, even is side profile seeming too perfect in your eyes. “I thought you’d be at work all day today?”
You see Johnny shrugging his shoulders, “Might have taken an hour off to see you.”
Though it warms your heart, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Are you even allowed to do that?”
“Probably not,” Johnny points out and glances at you for a second, “But I couldn’t help it.”
You scoff fondly, “You are something else Johnny Suh.”
Johnny chuckles and gives your hand a squeeze. “Do we need to pick up Youngho?”
You shake your head, “No, Jaehyun is dropping him off my house later.”
Johnny grins, “Great. More alone time with you.”
“You’ve used up thirty minutes of your unofficial one hour off work babe, I think it’s best you drive back as soon as you drop me off,” you point out playfully.
“Say it again.”
“You need to drive back—”
“No. Not that. What you called me.”
You blink at him before you realise when you recount your words. “B-babe?”
And then you feel the car come to a complete stop when Johnny pulls up on the side of a random road. He’s turning to you, letting go of your hand and smiling at you widely, his eyes disappearing. “I missed you calling me that,” he confesses and before you know it, he’s holding either sides of your face and leaning inwards to plant a sweet kiss on your lips, his happiness transcending from his lips to yours.
You’d almost forgotten how expressive this man was and honestly, it seemed as if Johnny was here to remind you and you really didn’t mind at all.
It doesn’t take long for the two of you to arrive at your house when Johnny begins to drive again, pulling the brakes just outside the gates of your home. He doesn’t want to go and you can tell by the way he tightens his hand around yours.
“Have a good evening at work,” you say, reaching across your seat to kiss his cheek which immediately makes him smile. “Please don’t give your employees a hard time, and also please stop slacking.”
Johnny’s chuckling, “For your information, I happen to be the best boss around.”
“Who also happens to disappear from work at random times of the day to do whatever he wants,” you rebuke, teasing him by pressing your index finger to his forehead.
“Hey hey hey,” Johnny defends, “This was crucial for me. I needed to see you so that I can focus on my work later. Call it a breather if you will.”
You’re rolling your eyes again but your grinning along with him, heart warm and giddy at the nonsense coming out of his mouth, “I’m not going to argue with you anymore because you’re going to be late.”
“I don’t mind, it’s okay.”
“Oh but I do,” you say, reaching across to kiss him on the cheek again, “Thanks for coming to see me, drive safe okay?”
Johnny puckers his lips and tugs at your hand when you’re just about to lean away, keeping your in place. “Another one,” he requests, puckering his lips out even more, “Here.”
You raise a brow at him, “Were you always this clingy?”
“I have every right to be after five years, babe. Cut me some slack.”
You laugh, the sound ringing in Johnny’s ears, falling for you all over again. You comply to his wishes, letting go of his hand to cup his face in your palms and landing a kiss on his lips, allowing them to linger on his for a while longer, feeling Johnny smiles against your lips before you’re eventually pulling away.
“I’ll see you tonight,” Johnny announces when you’re unbuckling your seatbelt. “Don’t miss me too much!”
“I’m taking it that you and Johnny worked things out?”
Ten and Jaehyun’s heads snap towards you at Taeyong’s mention of Johnny’s name.
“Really?!” Ten says excitedly as you hand him a fork for the pasta that Jaehyun is scooping out of the bowl.
You give Taeyong a weird look, wondering how he came to that conclusion without any explanation from your side, “What made you say that?”
“You look really happy,” he points out and it makes Ten and Jaehyun take a closer look at you, literally moving their faces closer to yours across the table to examine you.
Ten’s eyes widen, “That is true!”
You roll your eyes and push their faces away with the base of the palm of your hands, “I look like this all the time, thank you very much.”
Jaehyun shakes his head and resumes scooping out a portion of pasta for you, “I haven’t seen you this happy since university days.”
“It looks good on you, y/n,” Taeyong adds.
“Thank God,” Ten clucks his tongue. “I don’t know how much longer I could’ve endured seeing you so miserable.”
Your mouth forms an “o” and both of your brows raise at Ten who’s begun digging in his food, “What does that even mean? I didn’t look that miserable, did I?”
Taeyong shrugs, “Ten is just being dramatic.”
Jaehyun nods, “Yeah, don’t mind him.”
When you look at Ten again, he’s set his fork down on his plate and you assume he’s trying to mimic you when he pretends to cry, sniffing as he pouts his lips. “You looked like this almost every time I saw you since Johnny got back. I’m not lying and certainly,” he narrows his eyes at Taeyong who’s setting glasses down around the table, “not being dramatic.”
Jaehyun takes a seat, a smile playing on his lips, “If it makes you feel better, Johnny was just as miserable as you. If not, maybe even more.”
“Really?”
Taeyong nods and takes a seat beside Jaehyun, “Yeah. I’ve never seen him so sad before. He basically barged in Ten’s house that night and got drunk by himself. He was saying all these things about you to us.”
“And you know, Johnny hardly cries,” Ten adds. “But he cried that night with us.”
Memories of that night flood your thoughts and that’s when you're reminded how difficult things must have been for Johnny. All this time, he’s been tending to your wounds and helping you heal while it has only occurred to you now that he might actually be needing the exact same thing from you.
The doorbell rings then and Taeyong is quick to go and get the door while you’re in the midst of coming back to reality after having zoned out for a few seconds. Johnny emerges from the hallway and he waves at the guys before he’s walking towards you and openly wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you close so he could press a kiss on your cheek.
“Hey,” he murmurs.
“Yup, they’re definitely together again,” Ten states, pointing his fork at you two.
Taeyong and Jaehyun who’ve seen the scene unfold immediately take their eyes off you two, the feeling of being around the both of you reminding them of the old times. “Yup, definitely,” Taeyong mumbles and begins to eat.
As the four of them talk over dinner with your occasional nod and laugh here and there, you can’t help but be silent for the majority of the time, your earlier thoughts nagging at you in your head because the one thing you’re forgetting and have forgotten all this time is that Johnny is really good at masking, at hiding everything he needed to. As expressive as he was with how he felt, he was also the number one contender for hiding things he didn’t want to feel and you can’t help but feel hurt at the thought of him suffering too, silently, and by himself.
Johnny notices your unusual behaviour and gives your thigh a squeeze from time to time to let you know he’s there, not let you know he notices something is off with you, and though you give him a smile, you’re sure he’s not buying your silent reassurances. So when the guys leave some time after dinner ends, Johnny’s tugging at your arm, grabbing your attention from the dishes that you’re about to wash.
“A penny for your thoughts, hm?” he says softly, a small smile adorning the corners of his lips.
Johnny hasn’t let go of your arm and so you use your free one to pull him close, landing yourself in his chest, arms rising to wrap around his body. When you rest your head against his chest, you can hear his steady heartbeat, calming you in a way nothing else can. “Johnny, you know I'm always here for you, right?”
You feel his arms wrap around you in return, gently pulling you closer into his warmth. “Where is this coming from babe?”
“Just.. we’ve always been talking about me and everything that happened when you were gone,” you begin, lifting your head off his chest to look up at him. “But we never talk about you and how things have been for you during that time... I, I want to know.”
“This is what’s been bothering you?”
You nod.
Johnny takes his eyes off you momentarily, staring into nothing to conjure up an answer to your question and when he’s ready to answer, he redirects his eyes on yours, lips pressed into a thin line. “There isn’t much to tell you if I’m honest. Besides what I've written in that letter.. really nothing much else. All I remember is every day consisting of me missing you, of not really having any energy to do anything because nothing felt right at that point even when it was everything I wanted.. Just, it was hard, I guess?” Johnny pauses, thinking back to all the times he’s spent by himself sleeping off everything that weighed him down. “It was hard since I never really had anyone to talk to and I think I was coming from a position where I didn’t really want to leave in the first place. I guess I just never really came to terms with missing home in those five years.”
You sigh, imagining how difficult all those times must have been. You want him to talk more, to tell you more, possibly every little and big thing that happened in your absence. But you knew better because Johnny almost never talked about anything that upset him.
“And the only reason why I keep asking about you is because I’m sure you’ve had a tougher time raising our son on your own,” Johnny continues, his eyes warm and gentle. “I keep asking about you because I want to know how I can make up for it now.”
You can’t help but smile, Johnny’s ability to always put you first making you feel all sorts of love. “It’s different though, I had Youngho that made everything a little easier. Raising him has been nothing but a blessing. At least for me, I had him. With you...”
“Hey hey hey, stop that,” Johnny interrupts, leaning inwards to press his forehead against yours, eyes tender and lips curled upwards. “It doesn’t matter anymore okay? What matters now is that you and I are here, together, with Youngho. We have the rest of our lives to make up for everything we missed in those five years, okay?”
You nod slightly, your arms wrapping themselves around his neck, “Promise me one thing?”
“What is it, love?”
“Promise me you’d talk your heart out more to me.”
Johnny chuckles, “Geez, if I did, you’d be sick of hearing my cheesiness very quick.”
“Babe, I mean it.”
Johnny smiles and it make you smile too.
“I promise.”
Johnny places a soft kiss on your forehead and you close your eyes instantly to relish it all in, feeling a little too overwhelmed when you realise he really is finally here. You stay comfortable in your position, in his arms where you feel the safest, in the stillness and quietness of your house, just the two of you in the silence of your thoughts and the in the peace of your hearts. You feel Johnny squeeze you in his arms and your heart warms for a hundredth time for all the right reasons.
“Hey y/n?”
“Hm?”
“Come live with me.”
You should’ve known from the moment you opened your eyes first thing in the morning today when Johnny peppered your face with more kisses than usual, when he literally carried you off the bed and into the bathroom just so you could get ready for the day, when he literally could not stop grinning at you like some weirdo until the very moment he dropped you off at work, that he was up to something. With his hands covering both your eyes, body pressed gently behind you to lead you into the right directions, you’re beginning to grow impatient because even though you knew he was keeping something from you, he wouldn't budge and tell you what it was.
“Johnny— I swear, what is happening?”
“Shh, just trust me birthday girl.”
You huff and it makes Johnny chuckle behind you, your hands wrapped around his wrists for support. “I feel like I'm going to trip and fall on my face. Could you please just let me see where I'm going?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Johnny asks rhetorically. “And besides, don’t you trust me?”
You don’t bother to answer him, just letting him lead you further for another two minutes before you feel him come to a stop behind you. You exhale a breath, somehow your heart picking up its pace because from what you can remember, Johnny always loved to surprise you and with every single one that came after the previous, he had always outdone himself in ways you never thought he would. A small part inside of you is anticipating and the bigger part is excited, despite your actions showing otherwise.
“Okay babe, keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them, okay?”
“Alright.”
You feel Johnny’s hands leave your eyes and you hear him scurry away from you, his steps echoing towards somewhere in front of you.
“Okay, open them!”
And you finally do.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!”
In front of you are the people you love the most, with party hats on their heads and streamers flying in all directions. You’re smiling as you scan the whole room, your eyes falling on Youngho first who’s in Johnny’s arms, Taeyong, Ten and Jaehyun in another corner and Mr and Mrs Suh in front of the small crowd, smiling at you fondly. The entire kitchen and dining area is decorated with banners and balloons, all catered to your liking with food spread out generously on the dining table and the kitchen counter. Everyone’s grinning at you and you’re not really sure what to say because out of all the possible things Johnny could have prepared for your special day, you certainly did not expect this.
“Oh my god, you guys!” you manage to croak out, your eyes brimming with tears with how overwhelmed you are because in this room, was everyone you loved so dearly.
From the corner of your eye, you see Johnny set Youngho down from his arms and making his way over to you. When he reaches you, you’re already bent down to meet him at eye level.
“Happy birthday mommy,” he greets with a toothy smile, proceeding to put a hat on your head.
“Thank you so much baby,” you murmur when he’s reaching for your face to give you a kiss. “Did you plan this with daddy?”
Youngho nods shyly and you shoot Johnny a glance behind him only to be met with a dreamy smile. It isn’t long before everyone’s digging in for food, the boys hugging you one by one to congratulate you on another year of existence, along with Mr and Mrs Suh who greet you nonstop and pulling you aside to talk about anything and everything, ecstatic at the news of you and Johnny getting back together.
“I’m so happy for the both of you!” Mrs Suh exclaims, pulling you in for what feels like a sixth hug. “This has been everything Johnny’s ever wanted, and really, all we’ve ever wanted!”
Mr Suh chuckles and taps his wife by the shoulder, “You can let her go now, she has other guests to entertain.”
Mrs Suh releases you immediately, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry honey, I got carried away! I’m just so happy.”
You smile in return, taking a moment to spot Johnny in the room behind you before directing your attention back to his parents, “I’m just as happy as you are. I really am.”
And you really meant it.
“How does it feel to be a year older?” Ten asks by the counter, munching on some barbecue.
“I feel the same?” you point out with a shrug of your shoulders. “I don’t feel much different!”
“Hey y/n,” Jaehyun butts in, a plate full of food in his palm, “Remember that time you asked me about dating someone so Youngho could have a playmate?”
Taeyong finds himself beside you, picking up a piece of watermelon with his fork, “Well now you have someone to make Youngho’s playmate with!”
Ten and Jaehyun are wiggling their eyebrows at you from across the counter while Taeyong jabs at your side with his finger. “Will we be expecting a baby number two before this years ends?” Ten teases further, a knowing look on his face.
“You guys,” you roll your eyes but smile anyway. “The answer is no.”
Out of the three, Ten is the quickest to glare, “Oh come on! Johnny is here! What are you waiting for?”
“Johnny is indeed here,” Johnny pipes up beside Ten who happens to be nearby to hear his name being mentioned. He looks at you, quirking an eyebrow, “What’s happening?”
Jaehyun smirks at you and you glare at him in warning. “Y/n over here wants a playmate for Young—”
Jaehyun doesn’t get to finish his sentence when you launch a balled up piece of tissue his way, hitting him square in his pretty face. But it didn’t seem to matter because Johnny appears to have caught on, a mischievous glint now coating his eyes.
“Is this an invitation, babe?” Johnny teases, raising his brows up and down at you.
You sigh and roll your eyes, “You boys are unbelievable.”
Some time in the evening, when all the guests have left, including Youngho who insists on staying with is grandparents for the night, you head upstairs to wash up and take a long shower after much convincing from Johnny who insists he’s okay with finishing up the cleaning. But as soon as you finish with your nightly routine, Johnny is calling you from downstairs.
“I told you I should’ve stayed and helped—”
Your eyes widen at what your eyes come across as soon as you enter the kitchen. The lights have been dimmed and in the centre of the room, is a table for two people, clad in red velvet cloth and candles, plates for two on opposite sides and wine glasses to accompany each one, music playing quietly in the background. There’s rose petals scattered around where the table is situated and then your eyes catch him, Johnny, standing right beside the table, a single red rose in his hand, smiling at you gently.
“Happy birthday my love,” he says before he’s walking over to you and handing you the rose in exchange for your hand so that he can lead you to your seat.
Johnny has definitely outdone himself again tonight.
“Another surprise?” you say weakly, another wave of emotions gushing at you. “I’m not quite dressed for the event,” you chuckle and look down at Johnny’s white t-shirt that you grabbed out of nowhere earlier paired with shorts.
Johnny chuckles and pulls out your chair for you to sit, pushing it back in slightly when you do, “Not to worry. You always look beautiful no matter what you wear.”
When you take a closer look, you realise Johnny’s served his famous steak and you watch as he takes his own seat, proceeding to pour red wine for the both of you. When he finishes, you raise your glasses up, sharing a toast in celebration of another year of your life. You fall into mindless conversations about the day as you both eat, asking him about everything that went on behind the scenes for today to happen and as he speaks, you realise just how much this man must really love you for him to go through such lengths to make you feel extra loved on a day you never really celebrated anymore.
From across the table and beyond the candles, Johnny gives you a knowing look that suggests something you didn’t think you’d be doing tonight when your favourite song plays distantly in the background. You watch him carefully with an incredulous smile as he rises from his seat in a prince-like manner. He reaches your seat then and offers a hand.
“May i please have the pleasure of being your first dance tonight?” he asks politely, body slightly bowing towards you. You laugh involuntarily and raise a brow playfully, “come on babe, for old time’s sake.”
The shining of his eyes encourage you to accept his request and you do so by placing your hand in his outstretched one. “Certainly, Mr Suh.”
Johnny finds both of his hands on either side of your waist while yours sit comfortably on his chest. You both sway side to side and waves of nostalgia come flooding back to you, remembering the last time you had the opportunity to spontaneously dance with him like this was in the confinement of your cozy home was five years ago.
“I really missed this,” Johnny says, bringing you back to reality while staring down at you. You look up to meet his eyes and the familiar sense of longing for the very first person you’ve ever loved comes back.
“I did too,” you whisper faintly. A smile grazes his lips, gently squeezing at you by the hips. “Johnny is it okay if I—“
“Always love, you don’t even have to ask,” he cuts you off. You lean your head on Johnny’s chest, a habit you always showed back then when you found yourself swaying with him to songs you both loved. The familiarity of the situation and how it feels to be this close to him makes you silently wish time would stand still, at least just for tonight.
Johnny pulls a palm higher up your back and begins to rub it in a soothing manner, both of you soaking it all in. He presses a kiss on your temple and you can’t help but notice a subtle change in the pace of his heartbeat as it picks up its pace, a complete contrast to how calm he is on the outside.
But then you understand why.
“Hey y/n.”
And then you start to feel your heartbeat pick up too because if anything, when Johnny began with those two words along with his gentle voice, it always seemed to change your life forever afterwards.
“Mhm?”
“Marry me.”
You immediately lift your head off his chest, your eyes widening up at him, fearing you might have heard wrong. But you know you didn’t because he’s staring down at you with eyes full of... love.
“Johnny—”
“I don’t have a ring yet.. but the moment felt too right for me not to ask you,” Johnny explains, a nervous smile now appearing on his lips. “But I have been meaning to ask you, for the longest time now, it’s just I never knew when but tonight—”
“Yes.”
Johnny’s eyes widen this time. “W-what?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes I’ll marry you.”
Johnny’s eyes soften as yours brim with tears. “Really?”
You nod as he smiles, “Yes really.”
Johnny’s hands leave your body, palms now caressing your face, his touch warm and gentle and his lips on yours even more gentler. Johnny held you like you were the most delicate thing he’s ever touched and at that moment, for the first time you knew, he was the only man you’d ever want to spend the rest of your life with.
Lacuna. A missing or blank piece.
All this time, Johnny had been yours.
And this time, he was here to fill all of it.
#lacuna#Johnny suh#Johnny seo#nct#nct 127#Johnny scenarios#Johnny imagines#Johnny drabbles#Johnny blurbs#Johnny au#Johnny fluff#Johnny angst#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct drabbles#nct blurbs#nct fluff#nct angst#nct fic#Johnny fic#Johnny scenario#Johnny imagine#Johnny drabble#Johnny blurb#nct imagine#nct scenario#nct drabble#nct blurb#nct soft hours#seo youngho
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WIP Challenge
Thank you for the tag @fortheloveofcriminalminds 🥰
Rules: Post all the names of all your files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that intrigues them and post a little snippet or tell them something about it!
EDIT (4/21): See my sneak peeks from this challenge here!
* indicates a NSFW, 18+ work
Active WIPS:
Centerfold*
Coquette*
Diamonds
Close Calls
Dead Air
Devil's Advocate
Get Lucky*
Lane Courtesy* (Franklin)
Moonlight
Paraesthesia
Playing House*
Patience (Raymond)
Relief In Regrets*
Seatbelt Safety* (Chip)
Serendipitous
Shortbread* (Chip)
Study Session*
The Agent Assigned To My Webcam*
The Stork's Song*
TB&TB Part Ten
H2M Epilogue Part One
Backburner:
Baby Clothes (Wes)
Darling Desire* (Series)
First Timers*
For Better, For Worse (Series)
Forgotten Promises (Series)
Guilty Pleasure* (Series)
Lacuna* (Michael)
Practice Makes Perfect*
Release
Shut Up and Dance* (Chip)
Vested Interest*
You're meant to tag as many people as you have WIPs but... uh... I don't know that many people with WIPs. So if you read this and want to participate, just tell everyone I tagged you.
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(I don’t have enough to call this) Too Many WIPs
Thanks to the lovely @kasienda for the tag! As you all know, I’m not super prolific and not a big multichapter writer. Also, the actual challenge is to list titles of all your WIPs...to which I say y’all come up with titles first? 😅 But here goes...
Published WIPs
1. 5 Years: A SilMil AU in which Serenity and Endymion’s romance blossoms during her annual advising visit to the Moon. I actually worked on this last night for the first time in a couple of months, and I felt like I got somewhere. There’s one more chapter and an epilogue to go. Definitely not my most popular thing, but so far it’s one of my favorite things I’ve written.
Unpublished WIPs
“Unpublished” is wildly generous, as some of these are also completely unwritten or only exist as a few notes.
1. Untitled Day & Night Lacunae Piece about Mamoru’s Decision to go to Harvard: This one is mostly written (poor @kasienda beta’d it I think like 2 years ago 😂), and I actually referenced it a lot in Belonging, which might be why I’m less motivated to do anything else with it.
2. Untitled Mamoru’s Conversations with the Senshi Piece: I’ve toyed around with the idea of a series that focuses on Mamoru’s conversations with other characters, and I do have one of these partially written. It’s in R, in an episode I’ve played around in a lot before. I’m not sure whether to do this as a separate series or include it in Day and Night Lacunae. As I write this, I’m also getting weirdly sensitive about my tendency to create multiple one-shot series...
3. Contrition sequel: Yeaah, I know. This is probably the most requested thing I get, and is actually something I want to write. I think Kasienda hit the nail on the head with saying something like exchanges and other challenges get in the way lol. It doesn’t look like we’re doing a fall exchange this year, and since Contrition is set in the fall and I currently have the candle I burned while writing it last year out, maybe this is my own fall challenge this year 🤔. Given that, I pose a question to anyone who wants to answer: what do you want to see from a Contrition sequel? My ask box is open :)
4. Untitled MamoUsaWeek 2019 Fight Prompt: Yeah, I know it’s 2020. Don’t come at me. This one is also mostly written, but since 5 Years is technically for the prompt before it, I want to finish that first.
All right, so in a shameless quest for encouragement, who wants to read any of these? 😂
Also I tag @queenrisa14, @irritablevowel, and @moonlightusa
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redamancy (knj)
redamancy (n): a love returned in full
Kim Namjoon wasn't known for making wise decisions. He acted first and, on rare occasions, he asked questions later. The path he'd taken so far was left broken behind him, but the light at the end of that tunnel sure looked a hell of a lot like you.
Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader
Type: One-Shot - sequel to lacuna
Word Count: 5.5K
Content: Established relationship AU; fluff but some angsty bits, i guess?; pov switches; smut (18+ - MINORS DNI) p in v pentration, shower sex, unprotected sex, multiple callbacks to lacuna, and a gratuitous cameo.
A/N: Please read "lacuna" before proceeding! This is a sequel/epilogue, so the context is important. No spoilers, so my actual note will be at the end :)
Listen to the playlist here!
Tagging: @borahae-k @i-purple-buff-bunni @pamzn @myimaginationsrunningwild @nonbinary-demonbrat @yoongiphoria @bangtansmauyeondan @goddessjichu @ggukkiereads @dearly-somber @jihopesjoint @indgio @junsai-tree @persphonesorchid @mgthecat
Namjoon tucked his black marker into the pocket of his joggers with a sigh.
With the last box labeled, all he had to do was shove it in the corner with all his other possessions. In an instant, he could make it all the movers’ problem instead of his. He hesitated, though, and he didn’t know why.
That’s a lie, he thought, he absolutely knew why. It just felt so fucking childish to mourn a piece of real estate the way his heart seemed so inclined to. It was especially odd in his case because there were only fleeting moments where this artfully decorated apartment felt like a home; and not a museum he’d gotten locked in after failing to adhere to business hours.
There had been a lot of upheaval since he woke up in Yoongi’s guest bedroom with your bare body nestled against his. This was to be expected, after all. He’d blown up his life a year prior and just recklessly, maddeningly continued to set fire to the rubble. Now, he had to glue the pieces back together carefully.
What he broke could absolutely be rebuilt, but those cracks would still be visible, even once they were mended. The biggest of them — the nimbostratus cloud looming over that guest bedroom — was your impending flight back to Los Angeles, and the home you still had there.
Loving you was easy; it always had been. The logistics of loving you, however, had historically proven to be anything but.
Before you left, you said the pieces of your joint failures fell down like confetti. In reality, tying up all these loose ends felt more like cleaning up glitter. Reminders of his mistakes stuck everywhere. No matter how hard Namjoon swept, he always missed a spot. They stuck to him, catching the light.
This move was your clean slate.
If someone were to invade his brain now, they’d undoubtedly be alarmed by the tornado of nostalgia tearing ceaselessly through his thoughts. As it twisted, it uprooted everything and subsequently dumped it all in cardboard boxes. Namjoon was the spinning cow added for cinematic value, hanging on for dear life.
A hand clapped on his back, knocking him out of his thoughts and back into that empty bedroom.
“End of an era, eh?” Yoongi asked with his mouth still pressed to the lip of his coffee cup. He took another large gulp despite the scorching heat of its contents and he didn’t flinch.
“Yeah,” Namjoon conceded. It was a one-worded answer, but it spoke volumes. He didn’t need to look at Yoongi to see if he heard them all. The squeeze on Namjoon’s previously smacked shoulder indicated that he did.
This was where Namjoon decided that he loved you, not even four hours after meeting you. You looked at him then like no one ever had and he heard that cinematic record scratch. Then, the internal narration chimed in to give away the plot — that you were it for him.
Looking over the now-bare hardwood floor, his mind conjured you like a hologram: love-drunk in the corner, wearing his t-shirt and nothing else, serenading him with Whitney Houston’s “How Will I Know?” and using an empty soju bottle as a makeshift microphone.
He could hear it now and it gave him the same feeling he had then, like he was on an upswing and he would never come back down. He could hear himself, too, blushing red in the present at his past admission.
“I think I love you,” he’d said it so fast because it already felt like a reflex. A knee-jerk reaction that he couldn’t stop, so bat-shit and embarrassing because he’d only met you a few hours earlier.
Presently, he pictured your coy smile in that moment — the first time you’d graced him with it — and remembering your response had him warm all over.
“How sure are you? Enough to wager on it?”
“At least seventy-nine percent sure,” he’d responded immediately, which would become a habit of his, and relished in the way your eyes twinkled. So, you loved it when he’d buy into a bit — noted. He’d continued, no longer shy, “And yes, I would. All in.”
He could nearly feel the way your touch sparked against his hand once you’d skipped back and crawled over the mattress to settle in front of him. He’d prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that you’d do it again, and again, and again, running so eagerly into his arms.
“Then let’s make a deal, Joonie,” you’d smirked.
It was the first time anyone had called him that without being swiftly punched in the arm. It was the best that stupid nickname had ever sounded, coming out of your sweet mouth.
You’d tilted your head to the side and hummed with a thoughtful finger tapping at your chin, “Two years. If in two years’ time you realize that you were right — and you’re one-hundred percent sure — you’ll win a prize.”
He’d put his hand out to shake on it, but you’d swooped in with your fingers sliding through his hair. You’d kissed him instead and, against your soft lips, he’d mumbled, “Deal.”
Namjoon could’ve stood in that bedroom all day, watching the montage of you that somehow flickered against the bare white walls.
Yoongi seemed to sense this, though, and he intervened. After all, that’s precisely why Namjoon had brought him along: to keep him from getting lost on Memory Lane.
With a gentle pinch at Namjoon’s elbow, Yoongi nodded his head towards the doorway, “Movers will be here in ten. Anything left to pack?
Namjoon initially shook his head, but then he remembered. Fuck! Thank god — or whoever — for Yoongi, who stood there wide-eyed as Namjoon jerked forward and flew out the door.
He dashed to the kitchen and grabbed the only thing still there: his grandmother’s tea pot, bearing intricately painted cherry blossoms. He cradled it in his arms like a child on his way back to Yoongi, who was still standing where he was left. Still wide-eyed, too, like not enough time had passed for him to blink.
“I need you to keep track of this,” Namjoon confessed as he held out the teapot, “I know me and I know that I’ll break this if I’m the one responsible for it. Just — just don’t open it, okay?”
Without batting an eye — or heeding Namjoon’s words in any way whatsoever — Yoongi pulled off the lid and glanced inside. There was no change in his blank face, merely a tiny flex of his eyebrow that Namjoon just barely caught.
True to form, Yoongi asked no questions. His only response was, “You’re right. You would absolutely break this.”
Namjoon would’ve rolled his eyes if he wasn’t so distracted by his own pulse hammering away in his ears. “Right,” he muttered weakly.
“Ready to kiss this place goodbye?” Yoongi changed the subject after noticing how flustered Namjoon had become. He was alarmingly perceptive even when he wasn’t actively working to uncover Namjoon’s secrets.
Namjoon was — and wasn’t. He didn’t know how the fuck to feel, finishing a chapter so conclusively. In the past, all his endings had been ambiguous. They faded out, for the most part, so subtly that he didn’t notice right away.
All but one, that is.
Yoongi studied Namjoon’s face for one silent moment before landing a weightless punch on his bicep. His knuckles barely brushed him, but Namjoon felt it through his shirt, through his muscle, down to his bones. Then, without any response from Namjoon, Yoongi offered him a moment alone.
The apartment door clicked shut behind him. Though inherently quiet, it echoed loudly through the hallway and reverberated through every naked room on its way to Namjoon. As he stood there, silent and solitary, he realized how much he truly hated that sound. What it represented.
“So, is this it, then?” Your face told him that you knew the answer before you asked; but that you simply didn’t want to accept it.
He’d never seen you cry, save for the moments you laughed so hard that your eyes couldn’t contain your mirth. During sappy movies, maybe, but never because of sadness. Never because of him.
Namjoon had to stuff his hands in his pockets to keep them from reaching out to you.
He looked down at his shoes, nudged the rubber toe of one into the rug, then glanced back up at you. It was becoming increasingly impossible to look at you, but it felt so foreign not to.
He’d seen true sadness before — not from you, not until now — but your expression communicated something even deeper than that. Devastation, maybe? Whatever it was, it mingled with your mascara and spilled over your cheeks.
“I think it has to be,” his voice was thick when he replied, and it was a miracle he’d gotten the words out at all, “If you’re going to get everything you deserve in this life — everything you’ve worked so fucking hard for — I can’t be the thing that stands in your way.”
You were crying so hard that your sobs made his chest ache.
“I wanted all of it with you, Joonie, so badly,” You whimpered, then you wiped your leaking eyes on the excess sleeve clutched tight in your fingers, “I need you to know that. If we could’ve found a single way to make this work, I —“
When your voice gave up, his took over. “I know, baby,” and fuck, now he was crying too, “I would’ve lassoed the fucking moon for you if it could’ve made a difference.”
It hit him like a bullet train when you said it. As if you’d ever needed to ask.
“Can you kiss me one last time before I go?”
So, he did. Hard. And then, when you walked away, he let you.
Click.
Namjoon stayed frozen, staring into space, until he heard the movers clambering over the threshold.
You’d never seen more paperwork in your life.
Flipping through the binder, you were even more likely to stroke out than you were to get a paper cut. The sheer number of words made you dizzy; an insurmountable mountain of hangul. An avalanche, ready to overtake you.
After reading and signing for what felt like forty years, complaining all the while, you began to wonder: At what point would your brain simply give up and forget how to read as a form of protest? The thought was tempting — forgoing literacy entirely just to avoid this drawn-out task.
“I don’t understand,” you muttered, turning yet another page. You’d written your initials so many times that they stopped looking like real letters.
Maybe your brain was losing its capacity for language.
Jinseo furrowed her brows with such conviction, you could see them knit together in your peripheral vision, “I don’t know how much clearer I can make it. I’ve explained the terms to you no less than five-hundred times.”
You set down your pen and sat up to meet her exasperated eyes with a smirk, “No, not that. Your unsolicited lecture on contract law has me bar-exam ready.”
Jinseo’s mouth dropped open, always dramatic but never truly offended. You clarified, “I don’t understand why I can’t simply write smell you later on a post-it note, sign that, and be done with it.”
“Oh, I don’t mind all the time this is taking you,” Jinseo swapped out her shock for a wolfish grin, “It’s all billable, baby.”
At this, you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t contain your laughter, “Unnie, don’t I get the friends-and-family rate?”
“Friends and family don’t forget the guacamole, sweet bean,” she chided you with her fork pointed teasingly at you.
With your attention finally secured, the fork directed your eyes down to the admittedly lackluster burrito bowl you’d traded for legal advice. Oops.
“You get what acquaintances and hot, divorce-seeking strangers get.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
“Me another margarita,” she purred. With a wink, she lifted her not-yet-empty glass from the table. “And when you’re done breaking up with Big Hit, you can talk me up to the owner of your new label.”
You slumped back in your seat while feigning hesitation. Sucking a breath in through your teeth, you sighed, “Yoongi? Well, I don’t know… He’s married to his work.”
At this, Jinseo quirked an eyebrow. “Did you not hear me about the whole hot, divorce-seeking strangers thing?”
“Menace,” you giggled.
Your laughter petered out too soon and an unexpectedly heavy silence settled between you and the only friend you’d successfully kept in the whole of California. In all of the United States, really.
You didn’t want to say it, but you couldn’t keep it in, either: “I don’t know what I’d do without you.
Jinseo, dropping her chin to rest on the heel of her hand, smiled with only half her mouth. She paused before admitting, “I don’t know what you’d do without me, either.”
Your instinct was to cry, but you’d never hear the end of it if you did. Jinseo, like you, seemed to develop contact dermatitis when confronted with vulnerability and affection. Instead, your friendship was grounded in playful smacks to the arm and glances nobody but the two of you could decipher.
For this reason, you picked your pen up off the table and gestured to the page before you. “You’re sure that catch you on the flip-side, nerds, won’t hold up in court?”
“If you really want to fuck around with Bang PD, I suppose you’ll find out.” She shrugged, then she winked again.
You didn’t, for more reasons than one. The most recent of those was the grace and understanding Bang Si-Hyuk had shown you when you raised the idea of leaving his label. The heaviest of them was the simple fact that you owed him everything — your career, your success, and most of all, the family you’d found through him.
In your best friend, who you’d never have met without Si-Hyuk's help in breaking through the American market. She was your lifeboat in a lonely, intimidating sea of unfamiliar people, customs, language, and food.
In Yoongi, the illustrious Big Hit producer who collaborated with you during the wild hours you kept, no matter what time it was on his end. He was your parachute, saving you quietly and without fail, through every leap of faith. He kept you company when you left Korea — then he started a company to bring you back.
In Namjoon, whose release party changed the trajectory of your entire life. His role could never be adequately described in any words — in any language.
A lighthouse, maybe, guiding you through jagged rocks to shore.
Or a cabin in the woods that you never expected to find, but that held you warmly when the trail ahead couldn’t be found in the dark.
More simply: he was everything.
“Where’d you go just now?” Jinseo’s sudden statement made you jump. There was a muffled knock when your kneecap collided with the underside of the table.
You blinked over at her and watched as her pursed lips curved into a smile. Your instinct was to keep your sentimental nonsense to yourself — after all, this wasn’t goodbye in any way that mattered. The two of you would stay in constant contact, visiting one another at any and every possible opportunity.
Why did you always try to eulogize what wasn’t dead yet?
Again, Jinseo surprised you. “You do know how proud I am of you, right?”
She snorted at your bemused expression: wide, watery eyes sitting between raised eyebrows and a mouth that was neither closed nor fully open.
Just as quickly, she course-corrected, resuming her abnormally solemn tone. “You do hard things every damn day and you always get out of bed the next,” Jinseo continued.
Apparently, her margarita’s rim demanded more than table salt; it wanted tears, too.
“You’re brave as hell — braver than me, that’s for sure. You jump because you know you need to; and I sit on the ground because I’m too afraid of heights.” She reached across the table and gave your hand a squeeze, “And your survival rate, despite it all, is one-hundred percent.”
You wiped furiously at the tears streaking through your foundation. Everything you needed to say to her was communicated with a shared glance, like always. Your friendship was telepathic; it would endure regardless of distance.
What you said out loud earned you the belly laugh you loved so much:
“Imagine what you would’ve said if I remembered your guacamole.”
Namjoon wouldn’t normally use the word giddy to describe himself. Even at his most excited, he was able to maintain some ounce of chill — the tiniest fraction of composure, whether he truly felt composed or not.
Then again, he’d never experienced this level of exhilaration before. Not when he was signed, not when he released his first track, not even when he was nominated for a Grammy.
In a matter of minutes, your plane would land at Incheon and his whole damn world would resume its intended orbit. The tectonic plates would shift back where they belonged; and every natural disaster he’d set loose inside himself would finally — after all this time — subside.
Though he wasn’t the one who left, it felt like his homecoming, too. Even in Korea, surrounded by everyone and everything he’d always known, Namjoon’s recent existence was nomadic. He bounced between surface-level relationships and sleepwalked through events that should’ve mattered; never allowing himself to feel connected to any of it.
Namjoon was a comet — arriving quickly and on fire, then disappearing just as fast. He was ready to stop being temporary, so long as you became permanent, too.
It was that dream of roots that had Namjoon refreshing the flight-tracker once an hour for the thirteen you’d spent in the air. He watched that tiny, animated plane inch closer while your estimated time of arrival began to look more and more like the one on his watch.
When they finally matched, Namjoon slammed his hand down on the steering wheel of his parked car and shouted to no one but himself, “Yes!”
There was an old woman — why did she look so familiar? — glaring at him through his passenger window. He might’ve scared her with his sudden display, but Namjoon couldn’t find a fuck to give. He was too busy grabbing the carefully curated bouquet off the seat to his right, then clambering out of his own.
It was a confusing assortment, and not necessarily a beautiful one. Instead of a single phrase, Namjoon’s choices communicated paragraphs; combining every type of flower he’d ever given you on this very same sidewalk. If you were anyone else, you might take this eyesore and dump it immediately in the nearby trashcan — but you weren't anyone else.
The first addition was white camellias, matching the ones you received after your first flight home. Like they did back then, they confessed how much he adored you from the start. Then came pink roses because he loved you happily, softly, despite the distance.
On your third arrival home, he gave you baby’s breath. Those delicate petals commemorated the pieces of himself that went missing when you went away; all falling back into place the second he saw you again. White tulips followed, begging forgiveness for the increasing time you spent apart and how little you’d get to spend together on that fourth trip.
For this trip, the last you’d ever make alone, he added bridal wreath.
Namjoon read it somewhere recently that this plant was virtually impossible to kill once it was established. It could survive just about anything and remain beautiful despite its hardships. Like the shrub he’d clipped it from, he’d withstand everything with you.
The fondness he radiated must have summoned you because, after ten minutes of scanning the out-coming crowd, he finally saw you. There you were, shuffling on travel-weary legs, with your signature, mint-colored headphones; and your self-congratulatory boba.
Unfortunately, you didn’t see him — miraculous, given the way he was waving his arms like a fool and shouting through cupped hands to get your attention. Instead, your sleepy gaze fixated squarely on your phone.
You must’ve assumed that this arrival would be like the last one.
Before you could summon an Uber – definitely not another taxi – Namjoon dug his own phone out of his jacket pocket. He struggled to text with one hand occupied by his bouquet, so he took the easy way out.
[To: Jagi 🤫] 👋🏻
Your gasp came before he could look back up at you, but he heard it loud and clear. When his eyes found you again, he watched in slow motion as your beloved boba fell out of your hand and clattered against the sidewalk.
The sound of plastic hitting pavement was the starting whistle. Now, you were off to the races.
With shocking speed, you leapt over the spilled tea and flew towards him like your Prada backpack came equipped with rocket boosters. At that cost, anything was possible. He managed to catch you in his arms without losing a single petal.
Once he had you, he kissed you like it was the first time: shy to start, growing increasingly desperate with every passing second. With your arms linked in their rightful place around his neck and your lips so warm against his, he wondered how many times he could shout I love you without saying a word.
Panting, you eventually pulled back with lips pink and semi-swollen from the urgency of it all. You sighed if you weren’t the breath of fresh air, “Hi.”
“Hi,” Namjoon repeated with a chuckle, grinning like a fool.
Though he didn’t want to, he let you slip out of his arms to your feet. After all, he couldn’t complete your airport ritual unless your hands were free. He swallowed hard and tried his best not to blush when he held out the bouquet.
It felt like he was gifting you his whole, beating heart instead.
You froze once the flowers transferred from his hand to yours.
Immediately, his pulse began to race. If he was still holding that massive bouquet, he would’ve beat himself over the head with it. Once again, Namjoon had overthought everything and analyzed a simple task to death.
But your pupils dilated ever-so-slightly when you looked back up at him with swimming eyes. He should’ve known you’d remember. Given you long-due credit for the way you always made him feel seen.
You reached up and did what you’d only done once before — in a dark hallway, five months earlier. Your gaze followed the tip of your thumb as it swiped gently over his bottom lip, and you smiled.
“Say less, Joonie."
After picking you up from the airport, Namjoon promptly whisked you away to the apartment you’d both recently closed on. As a life-long renter, leaving town more often than staying, it was your first major purchase. It was also your first joint purchase.
The old you would’ve been terrified of killing these two, deeply committal birds with one stone; but the person you were now didn’t bat an eye.
What was there to panic over, anyway? It felt right because it was.
Given your exhausted state, the tour was brief. You spent it all clinging to Namjoon’s back like a jetlagged sloth in a tree, but your excitement was evident despite the mumbled voice that expressed it.
If there was any moisture left in your worn-out body, it would’ve left you in tears when you saw the combination of your respective design styles incorporated so perfectly throughout the space.
The items you’d shipped internationally arrived before you did. Namjoon seemed to know without asking exactly where you’d choose to put them. Your kitschy trinkets didn’t look stupid next to his art collection in the way you thought they would. Even more shocking was the way your eccentric, eclectic taste meshed seamlessly with his modern neutrals.
Your home with him was a mirror, reflecting the very specific way you each provided what the other lacked.
And he’d handled it all himself, taking the daunting task of unpacking off your plate so you could finish your chapter in Los Angeles.
Though he wasn’t physically present for the hours you spent making plans with Yoongi — or the hours you spent explaining those same plans to Bang Si-Hyuk — you felt him. He listened to every complaint and over-caffeinated rant. He gave you patience, reassurance, and equal enthusiasm in return.
Because you loved him, you could do hard things.
You could navigate the nightmare realm that was moving internationally. You could join your friend in doing what neither of you had ever done before — creating your own label, then your own studio — while you were still stuck on the other side of an ocean. You could move back home without your tail between your legs, feeling like you’d failed to hack it alone.
You didn’t fail. You simply realized – much later than you should have — that any path worth taking was one you walked with Namjoon.
When the tour concluded, you fell asleep — at three o’clock in the afternoon — in his arms. When you woke up six hours later, he was still holding you. That is, until you lurched forward and spun around in a frenzy.
“Joon!” Your exclamation was interrupted by a yawn, but that didn’t undermine the urgency. “Were you trapped under me this whole time? Oh my god, you missed dinner. Aren’t you thirsty? I’m a monster —”
Namjoon’s entire face crinkled up under the force of his smile. His laughter twinkled in his eyes, too, and threatened to spill out. You stopped rambling mid-sentence and released your death grip on his hand so he could wipe the mirth from his cheekbone.
He was still chuckling despite the horror on your face.
“What?” You asked incredulously, though you were starting to giggle, too. “What’s so funny?”
The more he laughed, the more you did. It was a cycle, certainly, but far from vicious. Was this the kind of life you got to live now? One so perfect that endless laughter — caused by nothing in particular — echoed through every room?
His hands cupped the sides of your face and guided you towards him. Still smiling, you were both catching your breath when his forehead came to rest against yours. Nose tips bumping into one another, he hummed contentedly, “You just sat alone on an airplane for thirteen hours, jagi. If I get to be your pillow for even half as long, you won’t catch me complaining.”
You kissed him automatically; a reflex your body had acclimated to without requiring your brain to prompt it. It was brief, but you had all the time in the world to kiss him again. For now, you wanted to stare at him for as long as it took to prove to yourself that you weren’t simply dreaming.
“Hang on,” Namjoon said suddenly. He kissed you before you could pout and then he rolled off the side of the bed. He held one finger up as he stared intently back at you, “Don’t move, okay?”
After all that time sitting still with your body pushing against his bladder, you assumed he was headed for the adjoining bathroom. He wasn’t; he rushed right past it and disappeared out your bedroom door. You listened to his footfalls against the hallway floor until he was too far away to track.
What on Earth was he doing?
You sat there cross-legged in a pool of sheets for several minutes. One eyebrow raised in confusion while your gaze stayed locked on the doorway. It still managed to surprise you when he reappeared — not just because his arrival was sudden, but because he was holding his grandmother’s tea pot in his hands.
Is that why you didn’t hear him jogging back? Because he was moving at a snail’s pace, protecting that floral-printed ceramic like his life depended on it?
You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off with the same finger he’d pointed at you earlier. Namjoon ignored your furrowed eyebrows, crossed back to his side of the bed, and crawled back into the space he’d left behind. While your eyes darted between him and his tea pot, his never left your face. Uncharacteristically quiet, taking deep, measured breaths.
No, really — what on Earth was he doing?
“I can tell by that look on your face that you have no idea what the hell is happening, but hear me out, okay?”
He waited for you to nod before continuing slowly, “I overthink things. Sometimes, it ends up fine, but it usually doesn’t. I try to think before I act, then I think instead of acting — I don’t want to do that now.”
Namjoon paused for a moment, finally glancing down at the tea pot cradled in his hands. “I asked Yoongi to hang on to this during the move because I break things. I never mean to, but for some unknown reason, all that over-thinking doesn’t make me careful. I ruin things far too easily and I hate that about myself —”
“Joon,” you frowned. Placing a hand on his bouncing knee, you begged him to look up at you. “You don’t ruin things —”
He shook his head, stopping you from continuing. You’d never seen him look so determined. “I do, but that’s not the point I’m getting at.”
He shot you a tiny smile as if you were the one deserving reassurance. “I let you go when I didn’t want to, let this thing we built fall to pieces. The timing couldn’t have been worse, either — now I’m late cashing in.”
“Cashing in?” Clearly, you'd lost the plot.
Namjoon laughed, “Two years. You said to give it two years and if it turned out that I was right, I’d win a prize. It’s been a little bit longer than that, but I'm one-hundred-percent sure.”
Oh.
You'd replayed that night over and over in your head since it happened. Really, you should’ve caught on immediately; but you thought you were the only one carrying that memory around like a torch.
Did he really remember that conversation after all this time? Some silly, inside joke that you made after only knowing him for a few hours?
Namjoon took the lid off the teapot and set it down softly on the nightstand behind him.
“It took me too long to realize it, but it’s you — you're the prize. I don’t want to orchestrate some ridiculous, dramatic gesture because this is us. It feels exactly like it did that first night, when I took this bet in the first place.”
His hand dipped down into the tea pot. When it re-emerged, he was holding a small box made of exquisite black leather. You started crying in the split second it took him to open it. He was blinking back tears of his own when he flipped it around to show you its contents.
“I’m all in if you are.”
Namjoon was a lot of things, but he wasn't a quitter.
After he slid that ring on your finger, neither of you could keep your hands to yourself. Like history repeating itself, he loved every inch of you on every goddamn surface in that apartment.
In the bed he'd wake up in, next to you, for the rest of his life. On that bright yellow couch you loved so much; the kitchen counter he'd have to clean before making too big of a breakfast for you in the morning. When you christened every other room, the pair of you retired to the bathroom.
Initially, your goal upon entering the shower wasn't sex. In fact, it was to soothe your exhausted, sweat-slicked bodies before collapsing onto fresh sheets and a re-made bed. If you thought you were tired before, you'd sleep for a week now. Every part of him ached in the best way, so he'd welcome the opportunity to rest for several days at your side.
But then he smelled your shampoo — vanilla and honey — and it flipped a switch in his fucked-out brain. The warm water spilling in rivulets over your soft skin pressed the issue; and so did that diamond sparkling up at him through the steam.
He didn't follow you in here to fuck you, but he'd be remiss if he let the moment slip down the drain with the suds.
Experimentally, he pushed your hair away from the back of your neck and brought his lips to the space he'd cleared. Watching your slow inhale, he lingered there for a moment to gauge your reaction. Your head tilted slightly to the side; he considered it an invitation. In lieu of an RSVP, he sent his tongue in a short, languid line.
The moan he coaxed out of you was quiet, but despite the falling water, it reverberated across the glass walls and tile. You followed up with a sigh, leaning your head back against his chest as his mouth moved to claim the side of your neck.
"Shit," you keened with your eyes closed, "We're never leaving the house again, are we?"
Namjoon hummed as he flicked his tongue over your earlobe, "Outlook not so good."
As expected, you caught his reference immediately. You wobbled as you laughed; his arms snaked around the curves of your waist to satiate his need for closeness and his desire to keep you upright. "Mr. Kim, certified genius, is now citing the Magic 8 ball?"
"It's the poet laureate of our generation, Mrs. Kim."
Even if you didn't whimper at the utterance of your future name, Namjoon still would've repeated it over and over again. A mantra, an invocation manifesting a long life in which you matched. So, he did say it again, whispering it into your flesh as his hands slid up your torso.
Mrs. Kim, Mrs. Kim, Mrs. Kim.
Given what they'd been through over the past several hours, he treated your nipples with the utmost care and reverence. Sensitive thing that you were, even his feather-light touch had you mewling. Fuck, he loved that sound.
"Baby?" Your voice was barely distinguishable from an exhale, but that perfect softness hit him hard, "Please."
Your wish was, is, and always would be his command.
Namjoon worried about your trembling legs, so he chose the first solution that came to mind: he turned you gently around, kissed you deep, and lifted you off your feet. As always, you molded so easily against his body. You legs wrapped around him in tandem with your arms.
Carefully, he rested your back against the stone wall and adjusted his grip so that his arms slotted under your thighs. “This okay, Mrs. Kim?" He asked.
Your answer came in the form of your hand dipping down and guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance. He followed your lead, leaving both of you to moan when he entered you.
Like a glove, you enveloped him completely. He'd never believe that you weren't destined to fit together like this. Out of every person, in every timeline, he was the lucky bastard meant for you.
Unlike the previous rounds, this was slow. Deliberate, not underscored by some carnal desire or desperate need to reclaim lost moments. He took his time grinding himself into your unimaginable warmth because he now had it in spades. Namjoon refused to let a second pass without cherishing it fully first.
Your head dipped back against the cool stone, allowing you to tilt your jaw upward. Placing a kiss at the column of your throat, he pushed himself deeper into you.
Breathy moans thanked him wordlessly for his fluency in your body's language. Namjoon had studied religiously to learn your unspoken cues, so your raised eyebrows and closed lids foretold your orgasm before your velvet walls clenched around him.
"Fuck, Joon," you cried out as you shook in his arms.
Your little whimpers lured him to the edge; your tightened grip on his shoulder pulled him off behind you. As he spilled himself inside of you, he screwed his eyes shut and nestled his face into the crook of your neck to muffle his chest-deep groan.
After several moments of silence, you shifted. He rolled his neck to move his head further down your shoulder. From this vantage point, he gazed up at you — the only thing worth looking at, all he ever wanted, the one he got to keep for good.
With a kiss left at his temple, you murmured, "I'm glad you took it back."
"What?" He asked quietly, searching your flushed, smiling face for answers.
"All the love I have for you. I know where to put it now."
A/N: aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH IT'S FINALLY HERE! i cried like a bitch baby when i was writing this - even more so when i finished writing this (aka now) - because this lil series takes up my whole heart. i buried so much of myself in lacuna, so this was my attempt to plant flowers in the achy bits, lol. i left lots of easter eggs, so i'd love to know what you find! also, yes, i did write my damn self into this one. hahahah. lacuna was largely autobiographical (except the namjoon part, obvi) so it felt right to fictionalize myself as the person saying what i would've wanted to hear back then.
i'd love to know your thoughts, so please please please let me know either by replying, reblogging, PMing me, or dropping a line in the ask box.
#re: lacuna#knj#kim namjoon#namjoon#bts#bts army#bts namjoon#bts rm#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts fluff#bts smut#namjoon fluff#namjoon smut#namjoon fanfiction#namjoon fanfic#namjoon fic#namjoon x reader#namjoon x you#namjoon x y/n#rm x reader#rm x you#rm x y/n#bts x you#bts x reader#bts x y/n#bts imagine#namjoon imagine#jade writes
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i also think it's funny that keagan and camille are the OCs i talk about the most even though they don't show up in lacuna at all
they're only important in the theoretical prequel and epilogue of lacuna that i might not even make
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The Blue Road – the first graphic novel by acclaimed poet and writer Wayde Compton and illustrator April dela Noche Milne – explores the world from a migrant’s perspective with dreamlike wonder. We are introduced to one Lacuna, she without a proper home. She’s also without much in this world: no family, no prospects, no past and seemingly not much of a future. The swamp has always been her home, and she’s just barely managing to survive from day to day. It’s not quite living and thus thriving, but it is sadly, all she’s known. This setup means the readers get a feel for the adventure and journey to come as Lacuna will need all her wits, hopes, and her ingenious nature to get her through each obstacle time and time again.
Wayde Compton spins a tale of someone looking for a place to call home, for a place to belong that is fantastic as it has seeped into the realm of fantasy. Not much is lost in the sauce narrative-wise as readers follow Lacuna, I, myself was able to follow her plight with each new obstacle and the parallels people in the real world can and do face. She’s a vital part to the story with her observations and understandings on how this new part of the world she’s entering works and how she can proceed. She doesn’t just move forward–she makes it so for those who may follow behind her, in an attempt to better their lives–can do so with more ease.
She works to make that road to finding a home and better options easier, so no one gets trapped, lost, or falls into the cracks again. In the second half of the book towards the end, using her ingenious nature, she later makes life much easier for herself and many others–totally disrupting a system in place that is a disservice to those like her. She even acknowledges her privilege in doing so when she learns that she can live a better life while some who were previously in her steps can not at the current moment. The ending and the surprising epilogue is a thing of beauty, showing us a character arc of a girl well developed, who has matured and continually brings revolution in her everyday life.
Read on here. [x]
#the blue road#graphic novel#book review#arsenal pulp#bipoc#blacknerdproblems#black nerd problems#migration#immigration
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Lacuna
by @teekettle
Summary:
Archaeologist Yuuri Katsuki is on a quest to discover the truth about the mythical golden city of Kitezh, aided only by the journal of his idol, Viktor Nikiforov, a famous explorer who disappeared without a trace in the 19th century.
Except, maybe Viktor isn't gone after all.
Words: 7544, Chapters: 5/5, Language: English
Fandoms: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Archaeology, Magic, Legends, Immortality, Russian Mythology, Fluff, Historical References, Being Lost, Atlantis AU but without being Atlantis, Happily Ever After in the Epilogue
read it on AO3 here.
#teekettle#yuri on ice fanfiction#yuuri katsuki#victor nikiforov#modern au#fantasy au#archeology au#magic au#immortality au#russian mythology au#mythology au#fluff#atlantis au#completed
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Whist - Epilogue
summary: you can’t protect her forever.
Word Count; 1k
Warnings; swearing, murder!
NOTES: not a finnick odair x reader. it’s a ‘what if’ series
–
It’s been months since you last saw your brothers. It was the day of Alyssum’s funeral--which half the district attended--and it was when they broke the news that they would be moving out of your house. They told you that they had already moved everything back into the childhood home.
They also told you that they never wanted to see you again, and you weren’t welcome back. The only thing they left with you is everything that you had bought for Alyssum, her room is still intact. But all her baby toys and blankets and clothes have been moved back to their house.
So, you’ve had the whole victor house to you and Finnick. And you can’t think of a bigger slap to the face. Them not talking to you in this house is one thing, but leaving you to deal with a ghost town is another. They packed everything and left just like they had promised.
It’s a barren land.
And you’ve been trying to convince yourself for a while now that it’s not your fault. You didn’t know that being with the careers would get her killed like that. You always knew that tributes would get creative with how they’d kill each other, you’ve seen it for years now. But you never thought that would happen.
Finnick tries to reassure you that it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known, and he didn’t either. And he also said that it was inevitable, and you knew it yourself. You said it over and over, and so did Alyssum when she was talking to Peeta.
You wanted her to go a more gentle way, though. You didn’t want her to be stung by wasps, have her skin swollen and face mangled. When she was being brought out of the arena, her body was stiff because of the venom, and Elysia told you that it was hard just to get her to look presentable.
It wasn’t just Alyssum that had died, it was also Glimmer. While Glimmer didn’t bother to act quick on her feet, Aly tried. And she tried hard.
You should have sent her a sponsor gift or something to wake them up. The second that the wasps were revealed, you should have gotten down to the betting room and found the nearest sponsor. The gamemakers can’t deny you of a gift, especially if you want it sent out in the open like that.
You’re sure it would have jolted them all awake. You know it would have saved their lives, and it would have been for the better. Maybe then Katniss and Peeta would be dead, and not televised. With their whole marriage bullshit being plastered all over Caesar’s show.
You can’t even turn on the tele anymore without being bombarded about the engagement, the venue, the flowers, cake, wine or this time--the fucking wedding dress. It makes you sick, and angry. To see the girl that had killed your sister being rewarded like this.
The only reason why you’re watching it now is because there’s a mandatory viewing. Mags told you earlier that this is the announcement of the quarter quell. The special games that happen every twenty-five years. It’s an even bigger reminder that the districts will never truly be able to escape the Capitol.
Finnick sits next to you, off to the left. He leans against the arm of the couch, one leg tucked beneath his thigh.
The anthem plays, and suddenly it’s cutting to President Snow, walking to his microphone from where he sat a few feet from it. Behind him trails a boy in white, a box in his hands.
Snow explains that the Quell’s are put in place to refresh the memory of those who were killed in the district’s rebellion. He then moves on to the Quarter Quells that have happened already, “On the twenty-fifth anniversary as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it.”
Mags likely mentored for that one.
“On the fiftieth anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes.” President Snow pauses a moment, before continuing, “And now we honor our third Quarter Quell.”
That’s the games that Haymitch had won. Lucky fucking bastard.
You watch as Snow opens the box, and plucks the envelope that has a 75 clearly printed on it. Then, he sticks his finger beneath the flap and forces it open.
He pulls out the paper, and without missing a beat continues, “On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that not even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors.”
There’s a silence that settles over the house.
District Four has enough tributes on both the male and female side that it’s really a roulette on who will get chosen to go inside. It’s not really that bad of a worry, and you can’t even bring yourself to be upset. Hell, it even feels like it’s right. You’re getting a punishment like this for what you’ve done to your sister.
Mostly all the districts have a male and female tribute--for a while District Twelve didn’t, but then…
Katniss is the only female tribute.
A smile begins to spread over your face, a laugh bubbling in your throat. Finnick looks at you like you’re nuts, “What is it?”
This is the best news you could have received.
You laugh a little louder now, looking at Finnick. He’s concerned, you shake your head, “Don’t you get it? Katniss is the only female tribute from twelve.” he still doesn’t say anything, so you continue, “Which means she has to go inside of the arena. But this time it’s all victors.”
“I know.” the words are slow.
You couldn’t save your sister last time, but you can do something so much better.
“And since it’s victor-only, that means I can volunteer.” the words sound harsh on your tongue, you never dreamt about volunteering, because who would willingly put themselves in that situation? “And if I volunteer, I can hunt down Katniss and Peeta, and get revenge for my dear baby sister.”
Finnick makes a noise, but you’re so focused on the tv.
No, this isn’t a punishment. It’s an opportunity.
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Strengthened Pluto Signs
There are four zodiac signs that Pluto is strengthened in Aries & Scorpio, where Pluto is dignified, and Leo & Pisces, in where Pluto is exalted. On top of all that, there are only three signs that Pluto has not revisited, and those are Leo, Virgo, and Libra. Part of the reason why Pluto is dignified in Aries and Scorpio is that Pluto is a high vibration of Mars, like how Neptune is a high vibration of Venus. Yes, everyone with an Aries Pluto (1822-1853) but Aries Pluto/Pluto First House is unbridled passion and anger. A famous person with Aries Pluto is Jules Verne. Scorpio Pluto (1735-1747 & 1983-1995) is like Scorpio Mars, Scorpio is patient with its desires – whether it’s sexual, or worldly in nature – it will get what Famous people with this placement Thomas Pain and Charlotte Wessels as examples. Pluto adores these signs because it’s able to communicate its needs and put action to their words. The downside is that like all dignified planets, the signs can become too forceful in their strengthened planet. Aries promotes novelty but doesn’t always have foresight over their actions. Scorpio is the investigator of the zodiac, the rock star, and gravedigger, so this sign wants honest, but by being overly blunt (and cynical) may push others away.
What both Scorpio generations have in common is that society as a whole began thinking, “Maybe our authority figures are wrong. Maybe we should acknowledge the truth instead of burying it in secrecy.” The first Scorpio generation ended a few years before the French Revolution, one of the bloodiest, violent wars in human history, social contracts, and great music was produced during this time. The Social Contract by Rousseau analyzed mankind’s intrinsic desire and how it often conflicted with wanting to maintain man’s privileges upon entering society.
During Scorpio’s second time in Pluto, we developed the same instincts again, before developed new interests in sciences at the time, now society’s delving into internet & gaming technologies now. Another similarity between both generations is that Pluto in Scorpio had extra violence in terms of their revolutions. In the 1980s & 1990s, we saw dangerous spikes in youth suicide and public shootings. My generation was taught that sex was great, but condoms are your best friend And in an odd inverse of the Scientific Enlightenment, the 1990s saw more interest in the occult and darker aspects of life, yet as a further contradiction rebelled against traditional philosophies.
What differentiates dignified signs from exalted signs, is that when a planet is exalted in a sign, the planet-sign combination can complete their theme’s cycle. Libra, the balancing scales, is exalted in Saturn because it’s able to analyze both sides for a fair judgment (Saturn). Pluto in Leo (1937-1958) generation grew up with McCarthyism, WW II, and the beginnings of Rock ‘n’ Roll. Some examples people from this generation are David Bowie and Elton John. It seems contradictory that Hades – Pluto – would like to live in this sign since Leo loves the spotlight, while Pluto would prefer the shadows (Pluto in Scorpio). But this the perfect sign for Pluto because Pluto wants the masses to understand the darker, hidden aspects of life. Like instead of dying in hospitals with strangers, when your times comes, die at home surrounded by family and friends. Scorpio cannot do this for Pluto, but because Leo brightens everything it touches – they are the lion – Leo is able to bring the hidden into the spotlight.
Arthur Miller’s The Crucible was inspired by McCarthyism; accusing citizens of Communism was reminiscent of the Salam Witch Trials. The Twilight Zone created by Rod Serling came out at the end of Pluto’s stint in Leo. Though it is nothing compared to now, Elvis Pressley’s “provocative” dancing was censored from the waist down during television performances. Getting Pluto’s messages of sexuality (Elvis), authenticity (the Crucible), and uncertainties (Twilight Zone) are more palatable with a stage presence sign than with brooding Scorpio.
Pluto in Pisces ranged from 1797 to 1823, and Pluto won’t return until 2044 and the reason why Pisces is exalted here is that Pluto rules Pisces in esoteric astrology. Pluto loves transformation, but when trapped in the house of death & resources, Pluto is unable to focus on the resurrection of transformation. When in Pisces, Pluto can communicate its message properly: Life goes on. Now, I realize that the subjects that most people will think of are immortality and the afterlife, but that’s not my intention. Pluto in Pisces reminds people that the world around us does not cease just because someone dies. Your grieving will end at some point. And when the universe does in fact end, it will be the ultimate epilogue in our story. Life goes on.
During this time, Romanticism was a very popular literature and artistic movement: The movement emphasized intense emotion as an authentic source of aesthetic experience, placing new emphasis on such emotions as apprehension, horror and terror, and awe—especially that experienced in confronting the new aesthetic categories of the sublimity and beauty of nature. It elevated folk art and ancient custom to something noble, but also spontaneity as a desirable characteristic (as in the musical impromptu). The escapism aspect of Romanticism defines Pluto in Pisces well. Granted
Songs for Strengthened Pluto Signs
“How could I ask for more?/Lifetime of laughter/At the expense of the death of a bachelor”-- ‘Death of a Bachelor’ Panic! at the Disco
“I’m a hero in the bright light/In this world of false illusions in my head/I’m a zero in the dark night/I’m a prisoner I’m hostage to the light” -- ‘Hostage to the Light’ Lacuna Coil
“Transmigrate into the future or the past/Eternal damnation awaits you my love/In the kingdom of the sick and the rotting dead.” -- ‘Transmigration Macabre’ Arch Enemy
“The treasure, the city of gods is there/Above the stars and we've come from afar/You will find it's a new day!” -- ‘Sky Sailing‘ Dark Sarah
#pluto in aries#pluto in scorpio#pluto in leo#pluto in pisces#pluto#aries#taurus#scorpio#libra#leo#pisces#aquarius#virgo#andrea ferro#lacuna coil#Heidi Parviainen#dark sarah#Angela Gossow#arch enemy#brendon urie#panic at the disco#mine#Sun in Scorpio#Sun in Aries#Sun in Leo#Sun in Pisces
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