i made an ateez wallpaper for myself and i thought why not share it on the very very very small chance someone else was also looking for a grey tone wallpaper for their phones 😭🤣

thank u by ateez 🫶 like or reblog if you save

How do you get the ideas for your backgrounds?

mmm ideas.... sometimes i draw the background directly from a photo reference (the happy case) so there's not a lot for me to change and i can have a rather peaceful painting process

othertimes, the BG is tied to the subject/concept/scene I'm thinking of, so it only makes sense that i have that as the background

for example, for this fem skk art, i knew i wanted to have chuu kneeling in a crater after destroying a city so drawing that background was just a logical follow-up because i already had the entire idea in mind

Here, I wanted to have Akiangel sit on a building, watching over the city. The ominous sign with "the day of salvation" and crow came later after I found this picture on Pinterest, so they helped further develop the concept, but the main idea was there and so on

The third background option happens when my painting doesn't depict a certain irl scene or landscape, nor do i have any particular references i can use. In that situation, I first and foremost think about the general composition, the shapes, how they flow with each other, how I can tie them to my main theme and what sort of symbolism or little easter eggs i can throw in there just to keep it fresh and interesting for the viewer ( aka the person reading this aha ;;) :-* )

For this piece, i started with a big circle for the background, and then I started breaking it up in pleasing, cloud-like shapes and swirls that constantly keep your eye moving around the picture (i mean hopefully lol). The composition was inspired by a) Dazai's Mayoi card ofc, that trad Eastern illustration style with the circle and then branches of trees, and also .. kazuha's splash art ok i admit it bshsj

for this one, the roses came much, much later. Again, I added that sort of golden arcade to better frame the focal point or the main subject of the scene which was ofc her face and/or outfit. Then, since it still felt rather empty, awkward, and directionless, I tried finding a pleasing, spiral line that would compliment the already existing shapes and that would, again, move your eye all around the composition. I figured since her outfit already had those small roses stuffed in her belt, those curvy lines could become some bloody, spikey roses and boom! here are the theme and elements for you: blacks-roses-blood-deadly-sharp-gold etc. I then had her crush some of those roses in her right (ik it's the left hand shut up) hand to balance out the busier left side

and a last example, sometimes I draw multiple character poses in one piece and they sort of become my background. Yet I still have some blank spaces left so i gotta figure out a way to fill them out. Here, since the pose where he's all curled up was inspired by the TDIPUD light novel, i drew him as a "corpse" in a pool of blood, and contrasted it with some nice flowery-ish patterns and swirls that sort of come from within that bloody mess ( someone also mentioned it looks like a womb which I found very interesting as well ). The cats also helped fill out the space. On the left side, i added that swirly black sun that drips into three squares that gradually fill up with straight blackness and raindrops falling below inspired by the "a conviction that the sun will never rise again" line. I don't think I should go into detail with the symbolism cause it's pretty obvious and not that deep so i won't but yeah, and that's my BG all filled up!

I do this with most of my BGs, it's mostly just abstract shapes; I'm very fixated on making the overall composition look okay and for the piece to send a message ( most of the time ), so i don't think of backgrounds as a separate entity, they are part of an already existing idea, generally speaking.

This kinda turned into a composition discussion midway......... sorry about that....... To be completely honest with you, I have plenty of BG ideas, they kinda just spawn in my brain so i'm not exactly lacking in that department. Having to draw them and finding refs is the hard part for me

Hi!! Wylan x reader who’s an inventor of sorts & just made a camera for the sole purpose of taking a picture of him <3 👾

Wylan x male! inventor! reader headcanons

hi!! Thank you for sending in the requests that you have and I'm sorry that they've taken so long to come out! I will say that tumblr has been very glitchy on my end lately and I've been losing requests and not seeing them for a bit--or ever again, some of them have been missing from my inbox for a couple weeks now--so if there's anything of yours I've missed that you can recall that you really wanted me to write please don't hesitate to just plop the idea into my inbox! If I end up deciding to write it I'll put it into my drafts to ensure I don't lose it but if I decide not to, I'll let you know!

I went ahead and did this as headcanons, which I hope is all right!

Fic type- this is just fluff straight out the gate

Warnings- this was written and then posted almost immediately after it was done, so there's not much to speak of as far as editing is concerned

Okay, so!

Photos as a concept were something that was being discussed just generally around Ketterdam a lot

Mainly in circles of the stadwatch because if they could get photos they could have evidence through more than some very shoddy paintings, sketches, or word of mouth

and with a lot of effort, a level of planning by which even Kaz would be impressed, and a bit of practice in being startlingly quiet footed, you wormed your way into the rooms where those discussions were taking place because you had an idea of your own.

You took the words spoken by government officials and inventors under the Kerch Merchant Councils employ and went home. You drew up a plan that was completely different to the sketches you'd seen while you observed from a point high in the ceiling, the back of your head pressed against a wall as you willed yourself not to breathe too loud and to avoid being noticed

You developed the first camera that Ketterdam had ever seen across the weeks to follow, something different to the sketches you'd seen from afar while you listened to the government drone on about how much of a benefit to society cameras would be while they were in the hands of the stadwatch

The ideas that the government were circulating all involved relatively clunky cameras, ones with tripods that came out the bottom and were exceptional only in stationary situations.

You developed a camera that you could take anywhere. It was lightweight, could fit between ones hands, and had the option of attaching a strap so that it could be carried while slung over ones neck.

The entire motivation behind the project made you feel a bit silly, but Inej found it to be rather romantic and Jesper thought you cheesy, as they were the only two you had told until the first prototype of the camera was complete.

They were your best friends, and they'd both happened to walk in on you planning out the invention at different points, ask what it was out of curiosity and receive your honest answer.

The entire reason you'd liked the idea of cameras was not for the gang related purposes most would've assumed had they known of it. You were not developing a portable camera to help Kaz and Inej gather intel for their schemes and their battles that would eventually have lead to a gang war.

You liked the idea of cameras because it meant you could take photos of Wylan, your boyfriend.

You could capture the moments where he looked so at peace while the two of you watched the sunset in the garden, the look of focus as he worked on an explosive, the sight of his head tilted back as he laughed.

You could capture all of the unforgettable moments that you were scared of forgetting anyway, seconds in time wherein you felt infinitely happy and needed something to remember that.

So, it was the first night you'd let yourself exist with the final product that Wylan finally discovered it.

He discovered it while he and Inej were laughing, glasses of wine in their hands when suddenly--

click!

Wylan glanced in your direction, where the sound had come from, found you yielding the camera with a grin on your face.

He would ask you how you got it and nod when Kaz observed that the government had unveiled prototypes that looked completely different at a discussion only open to those living in the merchants district.

You would shrug and tell him you invented things, and that you needed an excuse to get five steps ahead of government inventions anyway.

You were smarter than the lot of the government idiots combined and they wouldn't start shrinking camera sizes for a bit by your predictions, so you had time before a government official got wind of it all and approached you, offering to give you money in exchange for the patent and you said no.

You told Wylan the opposite of the truth in that moment, not wanting to get called a hopeless romantic or face any of Ninas teasing for the romantics right then and there.

You told him and the rest of them it was for intel gathering purposes and that it was the first prototype--Kaz would get the second, maybe the third, and he would get it for a price because you weren't going to sell one of them off for cheap.

Wylan knew you were lying but didn't push it.

Later that night, you told him the real reason you'd bothered to invent a camera that was so far ahead of the one that the Merchant Council was unveiling in fits and starts.

You'd done it because you didn't want to forget even the most unforgettable moments, and upon learning that, Wylan nearly melted.

He kissed you, and he told you he loved you, and he called you an absolute sap before he grabbed the camera and looked at the photo you'd taken.

He loved it. He'd never quite anticipated loving anything of that sort, but he looked genuinely happy in that split second, and knowing that you were the person behind the camera made him love the photo that much more.

In short, he loved you and he loved that you created a camera just to take photos of him and to not worry about forgetting the unforgettable moments you both lived through.

@theaba12: Prompt maybe for the LP&G fic um i Sufi at these but maybe Meryl writing being seen by vash or I don’t know would she share her writings?

A/N: This one also got away from me, lol. But I hope you enjoy! Set in the universe of Love and Peace and Gunsmoke.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

He stared at the door, wide smile still in place, her half-eaten plate of eggs and toast sitting on the table opposite him. He waited a moment to see if she came back—forgot something, had something else to add to her long list of meticulous instructions. But when her footsteps down the stairs fell into silence he let his smile fall and his shoulders relax.

He ran a hand over his face, letting out a heavy sigh.

Well. Here he was. In Meryl’s apartment. She let him come with her, just like he’d asked.

God, what was he thinking?

He pushed his chair out of the table and stood, moving into the small adjoining living room where he looked around, taking in a life well lived. She had a worn two seater couch, an armchair, an oval coffee table littered with knitted coasters sitting atop a ratty rug, the edges of which were beginning to fray.

Along the walls hung photographs, some of which he recognized from their travels: Jeneora Rock, before its destruction. Enora Ravine. Rostrum.

But there were others he didn’t recognize.

A photo of a city skyline–December, maybe? A long shot of a modest plant array, all the bulbs clean and healthy. Then there was one that really drew his attention, at the far end of the wall near the window.

It was a large photo in a decorative frame of Meryl holding an award wearing a fancy blue dress. Milly was holding her tight around the shoulders, face split in a grin, the photo taken close up but far enough away to see the plaque Meryl held up next to them. It read, in large gold letters:

Meryl Stryfe November Journalist Society Journalist of the Year

She looked different: her dark hair was long and thick, cascading over her shoulders in gentle waves. There was a glow about her face, though he supposed that could simply have been due to the cause for the occasion.

But unlike Milly, she wore a sad smile, at odds with the happy scene.

He frowned, uncertain for a moment when in the timeline of his absence this could have been. When realization hit him he sucked in a sharp breath and agonized, once again, over everything he had missed.

He turned to the opposite wall, deciding instead to investigate her bookcase and hoping it had fewer unintentional guilt traps waiting for him. The shelf was small, but filled to the brim with books and journals and magazines and old newspapers. To his delight there was a whole row of aging dime novels and he plucked one off the shelf, grinning widely when he saw the author’s name at the bottom.

C.C. James.

He jumped onto the couch and settled with his head over one armrest, legs dangling over the other, eagerly flipping it open. He hadn’t read a dime novel in ages, but he knew all of hers by heart. He’d been a fan since long before he found out she had written them.

To this day he still didn’t know what she was so embarrassed about.

He glanced quickly at the clock in the kitchen, noting the time. He had about an hour—plenty of time to read through one short story. With a smile, he turned to the first page, and began to read.

Howdy Bear, I'm so sorry that things are stressful for you and hope that you're able the find peace soon ✨💙🥺 I wanted to ask these questions to try and help; feel free to answer whichever you feel inspired to!

• What are your top five favorite books and why?

• What is one of your favorite childhood comfort films and why?

• What flowers do you like the most? Feel free to send photo refs!

• Which element do you relate to the most: earth, wind, air, or fire? Why?

• What are some of your favorite colors? Feel free to send photo refs!

• Feel free to introduce me to Kerry!

Remember to breathe deep, to take time to be quiet, to reflect on the things in life that make you happy, to reach out to people you care / care about you in your IRL space, try and treat yourself with little things like your favorite sweet treats.

If it helps, this quote always gives me comfort when I'm going through extremely stressful times: "Even this too, shall pass". Try to think of future things you're looking forward to, and if you don't have any, try to make some.

I believe in you.

Clover @tex-treasures

Ergh, stressful times, but I hope that a new week sees calmer waters in my future. It's been a rough week, seas got choppy, but i'm still standing and the boat's still upright, so that counts for something. I've got a nice cup of hot apple cider and some donuts, I thought i'd snack while I answered these. Thank you for the inclusion of that lovely quote, I feel like I need to put it up somewhere in my day to day interactions until I get all this ironed out fully.  ( Hi, Bear from the future here! This got a bit long. Strap in for some reading. There are pictures and a song to look forward to, though. :) )

The question that immediately jumped out at me was one of my favorite comfort films from childhood. This has reminded me that I need to go back and watch this sometime soon. The Princess Bride. I unabashedly love that movie, and I more than likely always will. I saw it for the first time around age seven or eight, and it stuck with me for years. I can probably recite that entire movie word for word as it plays in front of me. It's a tale of love and loss and friendship and betrayal with a happy ending to close everything off. It was a nice movie, and I will still always laugh at the little bits with the grandfather and grandson telling this story as we see it play out. "As you wish" is one of those movie phrases that is going to be permanently stuck in my brain, no matter what. 

Books. The one topic that will always fall close to my heart. I was a child who's friend group was mostly books, only a few real live people. This became a bit of a nostalgia list opposed to favorites, as they're all books i discovered when i was younger, but i do still adore them all, even this long after discovering them. First on my list is Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman. Yeah, the one that Shopping Website Company turned into a movie i'm scared to watch, i'm that attached to this book. Catherine's personality as seen through her narration in the diary entry style of writing drew me in, I got a copy of the book from a garage sale in fifth grade for twenty five cents out of a bargain book bin. I fell in love with the tale. Second is Precious Bones by Mika Ashley-Hollinger. The book follows ten year old Bones in the Florida swamplands, circa the late 1940s. Her father, Nolay, is the prime suspect when Bones and her best friend Little Man find one of the real estate developers Nolay had scared off the family land dead at the edge of the swamp after a storm blows in, and foul play is suspected. Bones is determined to figure out the answers and help her father. In case you want to read it, I won't spoil the ending. Third place is taken by The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin. This was another chance find, I picked it up from a thrift store because the blurb about the book sounded interesting, and I gave it a read. I thought it was quite an interesting concept, and got rapidly attached to the characters. The story was a little complicated for me to follow the first time through, but once I read it again, I realized how a lot of the puzzle pieces fit. Again, since it's a mystery, I won't spoil the ending. All i'll say is that it follows the story of the inheritance of Sam Westing, the mysterious owner of the Westing Paper Plant. Whoever can solve the mystery of who killed him receives his millions. I can only think of these three at the moment, but they're three books I always come back to. 

Flowers! This is so blessed. So, most of my favorite flowers are simply wildflowers, or flowers you can find absolutely everywhere, because i'm simple. Firstly on the list, falls railroad lillies. I know that's not what they're called, but that's what I grew up calling them. I'm not sure of their actual name. They're these lovely orange lillies that tend to grow in abundance near railroad tracks, in ditches, or other out of the way places, hence their name. I'm also incredibly fond of larkspur ( particularly blue ), queen anne's lace, and black-eyed susans!

Now, for the Info Dump. You gave me an excuse to talk about Kerry ( and by extent, CP2.077. ) so I will most definitely be doing that. Also, i apologize in advance for the word dividing, I do not want to be perceived by the fandom if it's still living on this website. They're here to critique things and play the game as it's meant to be played and i'm here to run around and look at all the visuals while Johnny chirps in my ear like an off key canary because I do all the sidequests before continuing with the actual plot of the game.  Anyhow, imagine with me if you will. History proceeded a bit differently, and we are in a future where technological advancements have surged forward at an astounding rate. The year is 2077, and we're in the free city-state of Ni.ght City, located on the coast of what once would have been central California. However, technically we first meet Kerry in a flashback. 2023. A lot of things happened in 2023, including the end of Samurai and the attack on Ara.saka Tower. We first meet Kerry when he's trying ( albeit unsuccessfully ) to talk Johnny out of the attack.  ( A moment of interlude here, just to mention that I love that his design in the 2023 flashback stays true to his design in the original Cyb.erp.unk 2013/2020 ttrpg source material. That was a detail that could have easily been overlooked or ignored, but they stayed true to his original design, at least for the moments in the past. I appreciate that nod to the source material. ) Back to the future ( heh ) to meet Kerry for the second time, when Johnny insists we check up on his old bandmate and so we sneak into his mansion to sit and play guitar to make him trust us and realize it's actually Johnny. Of course, after Samurai broke up, Kerry made it big on his own, leading to his successes and the mansion on the good side of town. Johnny was worried about him after seeing some troubling headlines about Kerry's mental state, and wanted to make sure his friend was alright, that being the main reason Johnny eggs the player on to go check on Kerry.

Now. On to the man himself! Back in his Samurai days, Kerry filled the role of vocal and lead/rhythm guitar, and had the same dream Johnny did. Changing the world through music. However, he and Johnny didn't always agree on the methods, and this lead to some rough patches between the friends, Kerry even making a few grand tries at leaving the band, but his somewhat complex relationship with Johnny would always pull him back. Samurai officially ended with Johnny's departure, and left Kerry in a rough patch. That rough patch eventually lead him back to his roots, and he stayed on Masbate in the Philippines for two years to re-gather the pieces and see what he could pull out of it all. He returned and launched an exceptionally successful solo career, that after a little leg work, took off. An unexpected turn in his life was the marriage and the kids, but all that left him with was the now ex-wife getting a decent chunk of their shared possessions, and the kids, and promptly shutting him out of their lives. He tried to keep in contact, but the ex-wife was having none of it, and used most of Kerry's well meaning if misguided attempts at positive relations to prevent his kids from idolising him. As of the game's events he appears to be still a popular artist, although he's afraid of falling to the shadows, and he cares an immense amount about the public opinion, keeping tabs on articles relating to himself. He's started losing inspiration, however, rather understandably after almost half a century in the spotlight. His missions in the game are some of the most fun because you get to go around town with him and break things and cause chaos, and it all starts because a new girl group used one of his songs, and he's angry that he was never informed about it. However, if you play your cards right in the game, and this is how I choose to see my canon, there's a happy ending where Kerry partners with the girls on a new project and starts plotting his revenge against his manager who went behind his back, knowing that he can't just outright fire his manager thanks to the hold the manager has on his music.  And here in the timeline begins the romance options, and I change canon a BUNCH from here on out. Boy, oh boy, I sound like the wiki. /lh Kerry is a man with a very long rollercoaster of a past, that has left him with doubts around himself, his music, and the people he surrounds himself with. I just want to be able to be there for him, hype him up when he needs it and show him that, at the very least, i'm not going anywhere. <3 ( i will also be subjecting you to him singing, please enjoy :D )

And here is his face for you to look at ( some of my favorite pictures i've gathered ) :)

Thank you for the ask and for the lovely distraction.  @tex-treasures

my hero - request

request: anon: hi could you write a sebastian x female reader fic where she suffers from anxiety and feels bad because of it but he comforts her and tells her there’s nothing wrong with her and how strong she is even though she has this disorder

pairing: sebastian stan x female!reader

warnings: self-esteem issues, anxiety, toxicity in the fandom, language?

a/n: hey nona! you weren’t super specific on what type of anxiety that you wanted to reader to have, so if this isn’t what you had in mind, lmk and i’ll write you another fic! other than that i hope you like it!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

check out my m.list

You and Seb met at a coffee shop in New York. It was totally cliche and seemed straight out of a storybook. You had somehow managed to spill coffee on that specimen of a man, and he was kind enough to let you pay for his dry cleaning. Your relationship didn’t grow until you ran into him again while you were at a bar with your friends. If he had any say in telling the story of how you met, he spotted you from across the smoky bar and he knew then and there that he had to get to know you. Truthfully, you liked his version, but the real one was just indescribable. It seemed, to you at least, that you were destined to be with this man. Seeing him twice in one week? Come on, that’s possible if you were in the small town you grew up in, but not New York.

You obviously had recognized him as an actor, but really you didn’t care. That’s what drew Sebastian to you in the first place. You treated him as if he was any other guy on the street, he was able to be a normal person around you. Now, two years later, you lounge on the couch of your apartment in LA that you shared with the man you love. He’s still auditioning for any role that catches his eye and you’re supporting him no matter what.

His fans for the most part adored you and your relationship with Sebastian. The fans who didn’t like you were your only issue with this whole affair, but they had nothing to do with Sebastian other than flood his socials with nasty messages about you. You weren’t perfect, that you knew all too well, and you tried to let the comments roll off your shoulders. Most of the time you were successful in your efforts, but other times they clung to your skin like an unwanted disease.

Sebastian was currently promoting his new project Endings, Beginnings. You were so unbelievably proud of Seb, he was doing something that made him happy. In this particular film, he was acting alongside Shailene Woodley, who was just amazing. Seb always came home gushing about the new inside jokes that they had come up with. One of your favorite things that Seb did with you was run lines. You liked having the inside scoop on his new works, but this one was harder for you. It had quite a few sex scenes between Seb’s character Frank and Shailene’s Daphne.

Not that it bothered you. Nope. Didn’t bother you. At all.

...mmm, okay maybe it bugged you a little. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sebastian, it was… well you couldn’t really describe what it was. Whatever the case may be, it was putting you deeper and deeper into a funk, one that you were having a hard time coming out of. And Seb’s fans who weren’t in your corner, weren’t really helping you any.

A few nights ago, Seb surprised you with a casual night out in LA. He texted you before he got home and told you that he was going to be taking you out. Did he give you a dress code for the evening? No, he did not (wonderful, thanks so much Seb). You decided to dress in a half business casual, half rail me when we get home outfit. You ended up wearing an adorable bustier top that was embroidered with pretty blue and pink flowers, a pair of destroyed jeans covered your legs. You finished it off with a pair of nude heels, when you looked in the mirror, you thought you looked hot as fuck. It was around seven when Seb picked you up, mouth hanging open, in awe of your outfit.

“Oh my god. You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He opened the passenger door of his car after he hugged you, giving you a small peck on the lips. Sebastian drove you to a restaurant a block off of Thai Town called Home Restaurant.

“Babe, this place is so cute!” You squeezed Sebastian’s upper arm, jumping up and down beside him. “How’d you find this place?” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at you.

“I asked Shai, actually.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and your heart sank a little. Why did it do that? “She said that the paps hardly ever come around here.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your temple. “I thought that draga mea deserved a quiet night out on the town.” His voice rasped as he spoke in his native tongue, making a shiver race down your spine.

“Well, tell her I said thank you.” You offered him a small smile. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans. He spoke with the hostess as your mind drifted away. You were pulled out of your thoughts when he guided you to your table. Sebastian sat across from you, staring deeply into your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest your chin on it, staring back at him. “How’s everything been going?” You were genuinely interested in the answer and it made your heart warm watching his face light up.

“It’s been going really well. Everyone we worked with was real nice, it made all the scenes more comfortable.” Seb’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the scenes and you knew which ones he was referring to.

“Oh, right.” You tried not to let your emotions show.

“Yeah, we’re about to start teasing some of them to promote the show.” Seb sighed at the thought of having to use social media, you shook your head at him.

“I’ll help you with it, you dork.” You laughed to hide your discomfort. “Which scene did they approve for the posts?” Sebastian began to speak when he was interrupted by your waitress. After the two of you ordered your food, the waitress returned with your drinks. Sebastian took a large gulp of his before answering your previous question.

“They want me to post the trailer and then the scene between Frank and Daphne at the bar.” You tried to think back to the script, remembering the context. Frank and Daphne were meeting after Daphne had gone out on a date with Jack. Daphne was claiming that she didn’t want to be a wedge in their friendship, then proceeded to make out with Frank. If you were recalling correctly, Frank and Daphne’s first sex scene followed soon after.

“Okay, we can do that. Do you have any behind the scene pictures you wanna post too?” Seb got out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll to see. He had several different photos of him with Jamie and then him with Shailene. He showed you his phone on a picture of Shailene leaned against him on a couch, her arm over his waist. A red filter colored the photo, you had to hand it to him, it was a good one to use. “We can post it whenever we get home, love.” Sebastian locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, to focus solely on you.

“How has your day been, draga mea?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working towards your Master’s, so your days have been filled with preparing for your dissertation. On top of that, you’ve become a bit of an influencer on different social media platforms. Really, you believe your popularity came from your relationship with Sebastian. You’ve been giving his fans the content that they’ve always wanted. Not only that, but you’re active with them.

“My day was good today. I had to edit a few papers from my other classmates but other than that I didn’t do much. I did make a few TikTok videos, but really today was a bit of a lounge day for me.” Seb smiled at you, proud of how hard you’ve been working.

“I should be getting a few days off soon, so we can relax together in the apartment, if you aren’t too busy with your classes.” He stretched his arm across the table, palm up waiting for your hand. Seb pulled your hand up to his mouth, placing a sloppy kiss onto the back of it. His eyes settled on you lovingly. To Sebastian, you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

The two of you managed to finish your meal in peace. No fans came up to Sebastian asking for photos, no paparazzi swarms when you left, just a quiet meal for a normal couple in love. After you got home and you were snuggled in your pajamas alongside Sebastian in your comfortable bed, he handed you his phone to read over his post for his Instagram. The paragraph was sappy, about his time working with Drake, the director, and working with the rest of the cast. Seb always was a softy, never was able to hide it, especially in promo posts.

“It looks good to me. Are you going to post it now? Or wait until tomorrow morning?” Seb debated, he probably should wait and do it tomorrow, but he was most likely going to forget to do it. He clicked post, putting his phone on charge and snuggling into you.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Y/N.” He kissed your jawline, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It really means a lot to me, baby. I love you so much.” He wrapped both hands around your waist, pulling you to his front. You smiled wide, momentarily forgetting all of your troubles.

“I love you too, Seb.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get some sleep, love.” Little did you know that a single post could ruin all of the progress that you thought you had made.

*********************

You woke the next morning, alone in bed. You could hear pots clanging in the kitchen of your home, bringing a smile to your face. Before you left the safety of your bed, you checked your socials out of habit. You opened Instagram first, seeing an absurd amount of notifications this early in the morning. Your smile dropped as soon as you opened the first post. Comments on Sebastian’s post about Endings, Beginnings and his chemistry with Shailene weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. They were to be expected, they were playing parts in a love triangle. People were ‘shipping’ Shailene with Seb and Jamie, so that wasn’t too crazy.

What hurt you were the comments saying, “living for shailene and sebastian! she’s a much better match for him than y/n.”

“never thought that y/n girl was going to last, glad he’s going w shailene”

“shailene and seb supremacy”

“yes! i’ve always supported seb in everything he’s done, but i rlly questioned him when he got w that y/n girl. what was he thinking?!”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you continued scrolling. You never thought you and Sebastian never fit. You knew that people had issues with your relationship, but you never let it get in your head this bad. You checked your explore page, pictures of you and Sebastian from last night were riddling the page.

Your heart dropped.

There were pictures of the two of you from last night with parts of your body circled. The exposed skin above your waistband, the excess skin on your neck and arms. You don’t know where they got these pictures, but your stomach was steadily sinking with each picture you saw. The door of your room opened, revealing a smiley Sebastian with a plate full of eggs in one hand and a cup of orange juice in the other.

“Good morning, baby.” You quickly shoved your phone away from you, wiping your tears away from your eyes to meet his. His brows furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You snuffled quietly, before answering.

“Uh, nothing. I’m just so proud of you.” You smiled at him, not wanting to bring down his already happy mood with your problems. Was that entirely healthy? Probably not, but you were doing it anyway, consequences be damned.

“Oh, well you don’t have to cry for me, Y/N. Even if you’re proud.” He walked up to your side of the bed, placing the cup and plate on your nightstand. He brought his hand up to your cheeks, wiping away your tear streaks. “You know that I only like to see tears whenever it’s me causing you so much pleasure you beg me to stop.” He winked at you, smirking at your rising blush. To say that didn’t lift your spirits for about half a second would be a lie. Sebastian brought the plate to your lap, waiting for you to start eating. At this particular moment, after seeing all those horrible pictures of your body, your appetite had gone out the window, but he was so smiley.

“After you eat, I want ya to shower.” Sebastian’s hand came up to your jaw, cupping it as you used it to chew the eggs. “We’ve got a long day of lounging and enjoying each other's company ahead of us.” Sebastian stood from the bed, throwing a wink at you as he left the room dramatically. You stopped eating soon after he left, the food tasting like ash on your tongue. At some point, you got into the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.

Your phone was in your hand again. The pictures flooding your Twitter feed. Shaky breaths left your mouth as you watched your reflection tilt its head. Tears began gathering in your eyes as it felt like you weren’t in your own skin anymore. You had worked so hard to be comfortable in your own body.

It’s amazing how just one picture can ruin everything.

You leaned forward on the countertop, hands holding up your weight. You shifted towards the mirror, examining every miniscule detail that your eyes could see. Your lids came down quickly, tears dragging down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head back and forth.

“You are not going to let this get to you.” You took a few deep breaths as you turned on the shower. Not wanting to be around the mirror anymore, you kept your bath short, talking to yourself the whole time. By the time you left the bathroom, it was steamed completely, you couldn’t see your reflection even if you wanted to.

“He loves you.” You had a mantra and you continued to repeat it as you walked into your shared closet. “He loves all of you.” You pulled one of his old t-shirts off a hanger. “Sebastian loves you.” A pair of your underwear and his loose boxers covered your lower half. “Sebastian loves all of you.” You shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy pink socks, leaving the closet still muttering to yourself. You tucked your phone into your waistband after checking your socials again. You know you shouldn’t have, but there was some part of you that just wouldn’t let you not.

The same shit covered your For You page on TikTok. Videos from the trailer of Seb and Shailene and then videos of you and Seb, comparing the two relationships. “They do fit well together.” You thought to yourself. A part of you wondering why Seb was with you in the first place.

“Did you say something, love?” Sebastian looked at you from the couch. A blanket was strewn over his lower half, his upper body inviting, waiting for you to join him. His smile dropped when he took in your glassy eyes instead of your usual happy expression.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He started towards you, eyes running over your body for any outward injuries. An understanding look crossed his face when he saw your phone clutched in your hand. “Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Sebastian’s hands rested on your shoulders, lightly caressing your biceps. You recoiled from his touch, feeling uncomfortable in your own body.

“Just some stuff that some fans posted.” Seb’s thumb traced just under your eye, wiping away the tears. He held his right hand out for your phone, to understand what you were talking about. His brows furrowed deeply as he scrolled, not fully processing how destructive his fans could be. Sebastian always believed that they were the best fucking people in the world. He knew that they could be mean, but this was something else.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Y/N.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. It was almost strong enough to cut through the fog invading your brain, but not quite. You had officially zoned out. Dead to the world. Lost in your own thoughts. No matter how destructive those thoughts may be.

Sebastian noticed that you were already too deep, having experienced this with you many times before. He was aware that you were self-conscious, insecure, however you want to describe it. Your anxiety always got worse when you were stressed. Prepping for your dissertation was definitely a stressful time. Add on top of that, Sebastian was constantly pulling you from your work for various reasons. Had he contributed to this? Scratch that thought, he didn’t have time for that. He needed to bring you back down to Earth, back to him.

“Y/N.” His hands hovered over your hips. “I’m going to touch you for a second.” He directed you to the couch, settling on the coffee table in front of you. His fingers lightly traced circles onto your knees, as he assessed how he should approach this.

“Y/N. Baby?” Sebastian hesitated before bringing his fingers up to your chin, not wanting you to react badly. “I’m right here, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” His left hand hadn’t left your knee, continuing to trace small patterns into your skin, giving you something to ground yourself with. He watched you blink and swallow harshly, inhaling sharply before opening your mouth.

“Why are you with me?” Your chin trembled with unvoiced sobs. “You deserve the world, Seb. I’m not even--” Your sentence was cut off by a loud whimper causing tears to start streak down. Sebastian wasn’t sure if this was a situation where you wanted him to be involved, so he waited for a sign.

“I’m not even worth a glance from you.” Your hand came up to wipe at your runny nose. “They’re so right. You need to be with someone like Shailene.” A bitter sob racked your body, making your body fold in half. Sebastian caught you before you hurt yourself.

“Y/N. I love you.” He always heard you say that to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. He knew that you suffered from anxiety, so he was always watching. Always paying attention to your little cues. The little things that he could use to help you as much as he could. “I love all of you.” He held one of your hands, running his thumb over the back of it.

“I don’t care what they say, baby.” He lifted your face to his, steel blue eyes locking with your cloudy pair. “I picked you.” He pecked your right cheek. “I want you.” A peck to your left. “I want only you.” One to your forehead. “It’s always been you, Y/N.” Another on your chin. “I love all of you, Y/N.” Sebastian landed a final short kiss to your lips, lingering for only a second.

“I want you to understand something, Y/N.” His gaze never left you. “I’m not going anywhere.” His brows raised as he hardened his voice. “I’m especially not going anywhere at the behest of my fans. I love them to death, but they don’t get to decide who I love.” Sebastian shifted to sit next to you on the couch. “Is it okay if I put my arms around you?” All he got was a brief nod in return, which was expected.

“I’m yours, Y/N. As much as you’re mine.” His arms descended around you, wrapping you in a loving embrace. You turned to face him fully, bringing your own arms around his waist, shoving your head into his neck.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all my shit, Seb.” Sebastian almost missed your comment because you spoke into his shoulder and through loud snuffles. He backed away to look you in the face.

“I signed up for this, Y/N. I’m here for whatever we go through.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We go through ‘your shit’ together, Y/N. This is a partnership, a two-way street.” He looked at the weak smile on your face, heart warming slightly at the sight. His face turned serious, casting a glance at your phone on the coffee table.

“How long have you been sitting on this?” He knew how quickly your mind could twist things, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. You bit your lip, not meeting his eyes anymore.

“Just since this morning.” He held you away from his body, watching your expression.

“Is this why you were crying earlier?” You gave him a meek nod in response. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. We have to talk to each other when we think we’re going to go into a funk.” The two of you had talked about it before, but you didn’t think this was going to be a funk.

“I should’ve been able to just shake this off because I know you love me and you won’t leave me because of something that some people on the Internet say.” The words left your mouth before you could process everything, your mind quick to defend itself.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t always have to be able to shake something off. We just have to keep each other in the loop.” Sebastian looked over your tear-stained face, pressing a kiss to your forehead again. “Let’s ditch the phones today. Just spend the day in each other’s arms, how’s that sound?” You smiled softly, nodding at the man in front of you. He got up quickly hiding both of your phones in the kitchen somewhere.

This definitely wasn’t a solution to dealing with your anxiety, Sebastian knew that. It also wasn’t dealing with the toxic people on the Internet, but you didn’t need that right now. You needed to be immersed in an environment that accepted what you were going through without judgement, Sebastian could provide that. Seb hummed happily when you snuggled into his side under the covers on your couch while he searched for a movie. He kissed the top of your head and he felt you smile against his stomach.

“I’m proud of you, draga mea.” You turned to face him, a confused expression lacing your features.

“For what, Seb?” He stroked your face with a single finger, mapping out your features.

“I’m proud of how you handle yourself. I’m amazed at how strong you are, even when you think you’re not.” He leaned closer to you, whispering his next words. “You’re my hero.” One corner of your mouth twitched upwards, not wanting to accept it. You rolled your eyes playfully, settling back onto his stomach before speaking.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

— ITADORI YUJI + FUSHIGURO MEGUMI + GOJO SATORU + NANAMI KENTO || HAVING AN ARTISTIC S/O

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + gojo satoru + nanami kento from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues

↳ form : headcanons

↳ published : 27 january

↳ pronouns : non specified in headcanon

↳ request : Goodday Violettelueur.😊 May I order classic black coffee? Okay ummm can I request headcanons Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Itadori Yuji and Megumi Fushigiro (spell I his name right?) x S/O that's talent creative like painting, drawing, sewing, kriting, tinkering.

↳ barista’s notes : good day to you too~ i decided to take the painter/sketcher approach to your request, so i hope you don’t mind ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ but guys, when i was looking for an imagine for this banner, i cried reading the manga again because if you know, you know...ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ BUT other than that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and come again soon ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ

When Itadori finds out that you are creatively talented, this boy will always ask you if you are planning to draw/paint soon because he wants to watch you do whatever you choose to do.

It is known that Itadori is your number one fan and supporter and will cheer for you in the background quietly because he knows that you need to concentrate when you’re doing your thing.

When you are either painting or drawing, Itadori will always sit next to you with his head on your shoulder because he wants to see the process but mostly the final result.

If you are painting, Itadori will ask if he can help mix paints to make different colours for you since he doesn’t want to ruin the piece you are making.

Imagine him shyly using an extra paintbrush and just cutely mixing colours next to you - guys...I can’t, I’m going to start crying.

Even though he is nervous, when you want him to paint on your canvas, he would always ask you what colour to use and where to paint even when you tell him he can do anything he wants and you’ll go on from there.

During this time, he will apologise profusely when he thinks he has ruined the painting - so please tell him that he is doing a good job as he goes along, it gives him confidence.

Since he is your number one fan, he will take a picture of your sketches/paintings and shows them off to everyone like the proud boyfriend he is.

“Look! Look! Y/N drew this yesterday, isn’t it so cool?!”

Fushiguro and Kugisaki will be amazed but will get annoyed at Itadori constantly shouting at them to look at your art - “We already know Y/N is an amazing artist, you don’t need to keep telling us…”

If you gift him a painting or a sketch of him, this boy will cherish it with all his heart and will compliment on how well you got his features - you can’t tell me otherwise at all.

In conclusion, Itadori will be the proudest boyfriend ever and will show you off - not in a possessive way - it’s more out of happiness and cheeriness.

When Fushiguro discovers your artistic talents, he will invite you over to his dorm to hang out together as an excuse to see you draw or continue on what art piece you were doing before.

He knows that you don’t ever come to his room without your art supplies because usually, you both are in his room just silently with each other.

He will stay silent and leave you to continue your work - when you are in your dorm room - but expect him to keep coming back once every 5 minutes to admire your work over your shoulder until you tell him that he could say if he wanted.

His favourite sights to see is when you are on his bed laying on your stomach sketching away on your book or you sitting on a stool with your canvas and easel in the sunlight with the touch of his divine dog calmly laying on the floor beside you.

Sometimes, when you are in his room, you would ask him if he wanted to draw with you, to which, of course, he would deny the offer since he doesn’t want to ruin your sketchbook.

Once you convince him it’s fine, it is known on a daily occurrence that you would draw/paint on one page of your sketchbook and he would do the same on the other - if he can, he would hold your other hand.

When you are feeling bored, Fushiguro will allow you to draw on his arm since he knows it’s a coping mechanism for you - I don’t think he would wash it off anytime soon…

Unlike itadori, it is unknown to you that he takes pictures of you drawing/painting as well as your work - he probably has a whole folder dedicated to you and a picture of you painting is probably his wallpaper.

If you draw him, expect him to blush and ask why and if you tell him ‘it’s because you are pretty’ that blush will just go redder.

I don’t think he will show your talent off, not because he’s not proud but maybe because he wants this knowledge to only himself - like yours and his little secret I guess.

Overall, Fushiguro is someone that will admire your work but also want to somehow relate to you by joining in with your sketching sessions - he has some pride inside of him to have such an artistic partner but wants to keep that to himself.

When Gojo finds out that you can draw and paint, he will always try to find your sketchbook and canvas to see if you have done anything new without his knowledge - because curiously kills that cat right?

If you have drawn something without his knowledge, he will pout and complain to you on why you didn’t tell him about it

“Honey~ why didn’t you tell me you were going to draw this week? I wanted to watch you~”

If you draw/paint him in any way, he will get cocky and confident because, of course, he is an amazing subject to be used. 

Of course, Gojo has to be that one person that takes a picture of something and will ask you if you could draw/paint what is depicted on the phone screen.

He will also allow you to draw on him and expect him to take a few photos while you are doing so because he thinks you look adorable doing so.

He will also ask you if you want him to model for you - because he is confident in his looks - and if you say ‘yes’ make sure to say what you want to draw from him because he thinks you want to draw all of him.

When you are painting, do not expect a peaceful session, because this guy will play with your paints and paint-brushes.

What I mean by this is him dabbing a paintbrush into the paint before brushing it on your face or anywhere that you are showing skin.

His excuse will be because you are a masterpiece and he will continue to swipe white paint on your face and maybe your hair to ‘match with him’.

Gojo will also mix paint to match the colour of his eyes and will use it to paint on you also - he just loves to tease you.

If you paint of him, he will cuddle you to get you both messy with paint since it’s another excuse of his to have a shower together~

In conclusion, Gojo will always mess with you when you are drawing and painting, he wants to be the subject of most of your works but he is grateful that he has a talented significant other like you.

Namami will give you more privacy than his senior - Mr Gojo Satoru - because he has an idea on how much time and concentration it takes to make one masterpiece.

When you are in the middle of something, Nanami will make you some of your favourite beverage and place it next to you with a bowl of fruit or his favourite sandwich.

His favourite site of you when you draw is when you both go on a coffee date together and you sit next to him with your sketchbook in hand - he would have a soft look on his face as he admires you and the book.

When you are painting, it would be you that will brush some paint on him since why not help him have a little fun?

He will groan at you for being a bit annoying but once he hears you laugh, he will forget about the little incident since this moment is something he wants to appreciate with you.

If you do any artwork that is related to him, he would seem nonchalant about it but you know on the inside he is really proud of you.

He would admire the work for a long time even when you have gone to do something else and if you are sly about it, you could see him sitting on your stool with a small smile being displayed on his face.

When the painting has dried or when a drawing has been completed, he would gently trace the drawing and will ask for a copy of it - even though he already has a picture of it on his phone, he just wants more.

“It’s really incredible Y/N, thank you for doing this”

When you have finished your work for the day or if you are tired, he will help you clean up and place your work somewhere for it to be safe or to dry since he is really proud of your work and doesn’t want anything to happen to it.

He doesn’t really have pet names for you - usually, it’s darling, love or something endearing - but he will add a new one for you and he will call you his “little artist”.

Overall, Nanami is very discreet when it comes to you and your art but is really amazed by all your work since he is a person that takes everything to detail - sometimes he is shocked at how well you get every little detail into your work.

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

Dear HIM/Ville Valo fans,

this is a long post but I must discuss this.

________

I came across this interview of Kat Von D from a few days ago. Before I get into my thoughts, below is a passage from her old book “Go Big or Go Home” which you may or may not have read. She wrote about Ville:

________

“I only knew his music, and I loved it on first listen. It was dark and it was beautiful. It was metal and it was poetry. It was love loaded into a gun, and I wondered about the man behind the songs.  Two years later, our paths crossed, and like the majority of the connections I’ve made in life, tattooing brought us together. Through our first tattoo sessions, we began to get to know each other. For the next few years, I just thought of him as my friend from overseas, and that was all. Then, after knowing him for six years, something changed. It could have been the wine, the music, or the moon. Most likely it was just perfect timing. Just one kiss, and he changed my world. We were both sad back then, and lost. I was depressed, having finally ended a marriage that had been doomed from the beginning. I was also dealing with the pressures of filming a television show, which was totally new to me - and drinking my way blindly through it all. His story mirrored mine, and he had been feeling just as low. We had been waiting for something to happen, for someone or something to come along and save us from ourselves. And when it suddenly seemed that that someone was each other, it took us both by surprise. We shared darkness, and doing that bought light back into our somber worlds: for once, we didn’t feel alone.He’s the reason why I wanted to write music to begin with - and learn to sing. I remember the exact moment I made up my mind about making music. It was something I felt I needed to do, not for any reason other than a way to respond to him. It didn’t matter if the songs I’d write never saw the light of day, as long as he was able to listen to my music, my message to him. He had told me to look for a package at my door step, prefacing the delivery of the contents, his new album, saying, “These are all of the things that are easier sung than said.”I knew what he meant, but never imagined that each song would be filled with direct messages to me. I put the album on, and the music rushed out of the speakers and filled my house. His voice rang all around, making it’s way to the core of my heart with every word he sang. As cryptic as those lyrics may have been for anyone else, I knew exactly what each word meant and recognized every event and place he referred to. The songs were so beautiful, I just wished so badly that he could have said everything out loud just once to me. How should I respond to something like this? Where do I even start?The first time I saw him after I got sober, he was in town working on music. We sat in my office at the shop until the late hours of the night, talking and catching up about everything - music, home, art and work. Did we talk about love? No. We constantly danced around our past instead. What happened to us? I couldn’t find the courage to ask because I was scared of the answer I already knew. We decided to draw, with pencils and paper in front of us, we sat at opposite ends of the table. He pulled my three-minute timer from one of the nearby shelves, and placed it at the center of the table. He suggested we draw each other, and I was game. With a flip of the hourglass, the grains of sand moved from one vessel to the other, and we began.Sketching these timed portraits forced us to stare at each other, making it practically impossible to focus on the drawing itself. I had almost forgotten how beautiful his face was. He has a combination of eyes, lips, and a darkness to his looks that makes him look almost otherworldly. With him, I felt like I was at the center of an orderly, tranquil, magnificent universe. For those short three minutes, there were no questions about life or purpose. It was as if we never needed any more from each other than this.Like all people, I’ve suffered from love sickness and tasted the pain of love. The theatrical director of my mind, the one who staged all these versions of him and my life with him, seemed to be unaffected by reason. I was finding myself constantly day dreaming of the past.His eyes, his hands, his crooked smile - I’d ruminate over his features. Things he said. Things he did. Things he wrote. Things he drew. Things he sang. Over and over again, I’d sift through these images and memories as if they somehow contained the answer to my prayers. But I was living with a long-age memory of him; living so far away from the present moment.If we had spoken about what we were or what we thought we were, back when we got sober, I wouldn’t have been so confused, wandering what if, and writing the rest of our story in my mind. What did I expect? For him to magically not hear about me being in a relationship? And to not be bothered by it? If only he would have asked….. I would have….. If we could have only talked….. then things would be….. if we allowed ourselves to transform our fears of being open, vulnerable, then, I’d convince myself, we would be together. I realized that none of that mattered now. If I wanted to be free of this unrequited longing, I would have to make peace with the past and finally let it go. There was no way around it. But did I want to be free of it? - and him?I listened to one of his songs the other day. Out of all the songs he wrote on that album, this one was the most direct. He sings my name in the chorus. By the time the song is over, I’ve felt a range of emotions - I’m sad but happy, frustrated but calm. He sings about how I alone bring him to a place of stillness and peace within when we are together. What a victorious feeling - to enter into a place with him where no one else has been. To be able to bring goodness to and draw it out of someone. Those sweet thoughts were interrupted by  an e-mail from him. Impeccable timing as always. It’s just a short note, letting me now he’s somewhere out there, thinking of me. He ends the message by calling me “Star Face” - his pet name for me from long ago that no one else uses. At that moment, I loathe him for it. I loathe him because I love him. Sometimes it feels like it would be so much easier to walk away from this if he’d just tell me that he hates me, that he wants nothing to do with me. But instead he calls me “Star Face.” There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not letting go, either.‘Ultimately, it is the desire, not the desired, that we love.’The silver plane hurtled over Newfoundland, over the Labrador sea. Someone told me I might see the northern lights as I fly east and north, but I wouldn’t have noticed as I was deep in writing the letter that I had already mentally composed long before I decided to make this trip to see him over New Year’s Day. I didn’t have to edit myself this time, I knew exactly what the letter would say.I reread the note to myself before sealing the envelope. Then I drew out the first letter of his name in pencil on the front. What a beautiful letter it was, probably my favorite out of the entire alphabet. A letter I was so used to writing myself. With ease the swirls and curves of each arch seemed to flow from my heart, my mind’s eye, drawn in and through my arms to my hands, releasing themselves onto the pale ivory paper envelope. My plane landed soon after.I had missed this country, I had missed him, too. I wondered how time had treated him ,for it had been a few years since I had last seen him. I wondered if I still had the ability to quiet his heart when he was feeling manic. He always said I had a way of doing that when I was near. And I wondered if he even needed me in that way anymore.When we met up, he looked just as beautiful as the day we saw each other for the first time, almost ten years before. And as if no time had passed, we started right where we left off - hours flew by in the comfort of each other’s presence. Talking. Catching up.He asked if I was getting sleepy, and my attempt at concealing the tiredness was transparent. I looked at the clock; maybe it was the jet lag or the clock hands pointing to midnight, but I knew it was time to say good-bye. Reluctantly, we both stood up and tried our best to part ways. As good as it felt to be near him again, I gave him the letter I had written letting him know that I was letting the nation of us go. He took the sealed envelope, and then I watched him walk away for what I assumed would be the last time.My heart didn’t belong locked up in a tower across the ocean from my home. It belonged in my chest, beating, living, feeling, sometimes hurting, but always loving. I deserved to be free, and understanding and needing that more than a dream, I was finally able to let him go.”

_________

Now, let me start by saying, I’ve never understood this and I still don’t. I’ve had that passage saved in my drafts for years because I keep almost anything pertaining to Ville. 

I’ve been a HIM fan since I was about 15 years old, and have followed Ville’s life and work closely. The friendship between them was always apparent to HIM fans in those days, because we saw her in photos with the band often. I used to watch Miami Ink and LA Ink as regularly as pretty much anyone in those days, and I remember when this particular passage of her book was brought to light, the HIM fan base read it and we all had our thoughts. We were all aware of Screamworks being written about Kat (it’s obvious in the lyrics of the album) even though Ville never specifically said Kat’s name when asked about it in interviews.

I remember being baffled back when we as HIM fans discovered this passage from the book. I couldn’t imagine not making that relationship work if it was true love. I’m a bit biased because I adore Ville and he’s like a dream to me, but I just couldn’t understand it. It seemed like she took the relationship for granted or she didn’t love him enough to make it work; but I digress. I get it; love and relationships are complex.

Still, flash forward to this recent interview (the screenshot), she says it was unrequited love, and I’m still not understanding it. Why release all the songs now? Why didn’t she make it work if it was true love? Who is she trying to say was the one not reciprocating (as the word “unrequited” suggests) in the relationship? I don’t understand any of it. More than anything, I’ve had so many questions that I wish I could ask Ville about it all because he only spoke briefly about it all, and it was always rather cryptic. 

I’m only writing this as a HIM fan, and because I love Ville and his lyrics on Screamworks so, so much (it’s an extremely underrated album in the HIM discography, in my opinion) so I’m letting any fellow HIM lovers know she wrote an album in response to it, in case you’re interested. I haven’t followed Kat or her work in many years, so I don’t know what to make of all this, but it’s always been extremely apparent to me when listening to Screamworks that a lot of heart went into it and even pain, not that his lyrics on other albums aren’t like that too, but I felt it more on Screamworks. I feel that Ville was the one who was truly heartbroken.

You all probably know from following my blog that I’m obsessed with love and unrequited love. Any romantic stories, bittersweet letters, heartbreak, longing etc. is just my favorite thing in the world so please excuse the long post, haha.

Der Geliebte

Pairing: Jungkook x artist! Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 6.4k 

Rating: 16+

AU: non idol! Jungkook x artist! Reader AU!

Genre: strangers to lovers AU; friends to lovers AU! (idiots to lovers AU!); love at the first sight! AU; soulmate to lovers! AU (kinda?); unbelievable amount of fluff; a little angst (fluffy angst!!,); tiny amount of smut (one paragraph xD)

Warnings: tiny bit of smut/some sexual tension between both of them; Jungkook is a poor shy thing and is fucking nervous around the reader all the time; teeth rotting fluff; both are so in love with each other that they’re getting stupid to not realize it; both are insecure that they’re not meant for another... just fluff, fluff, fluff and painfully obvious pining over each other! 

A/N: Hallelujah, I finally did it! After I made Sibi @borathae​ wait over three months for her Christmas + Birthday Fanfic I finished it two weeks to late for my sweetest Darlings Birthday! I am so incredibly sorry that I made you wait for such a long time and really, Sweetie, you have all the rights to be still mad at my stupid ass! Nevertheless... I love you so goddamn much and I hope the fic made at least a little bit up for it... Love you!!!! 💕 💕 

Summary: You and Jungkook met right at the first day you opened your own atelier in Seoul after you had to leave your old home behind you. You love paint canvas with landscape motives, other people just roll with their eyes when they hear that you choose such usual, almost boring things to paint. Not so Jungkook, he seems to be different than most of visitors. It’s almost like he can read your feelings through your paintings...

Status: Edited (I am sorry for any still existing errors in here!) 

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* Jungkook’s POV * 

"In what are you getting yourself into, Jungkook?"

 I quietly ask myself as I get rid of my clothes behind the paravent and throw the dressing gown over his body which you laid out for me. My hands are sweaty, they tremble slightly and my heart beats wildly, as if it wants to jump right out of my chest. Excitement spreads throughout my body, leaving a faint feeling in my stomach and a certain blush rises in my cheeks. I still can't believe what I've gotten myself into . But... you looked at me so pleadingly with your dear and downright innocent eyes that I would have done anything for you with that look of yours. I want to make you happy, see that happy and contented smile on your lips, which always makes a whole horde of wild butterflies break out in my belly. 'Normally I was the shyness and silence in person and with you... with her, I feel for the first timesomething like peace and security. Especially when I consider how shy I usually am around women.', I ask myself and I don't really know the answer to that. But what can I do against my feelings? I don't really know, on the one hand they scare me, on the other hand they feel so exciting and new that I don't want to eliminate them at all.

I don't even know exactly when the whole thing started. In which moment my feelings for you grew, when I felt more than just fascination and admiration for you and your artwork. Six months ago, a small studio had opened in my district, your own studio. On the day of the opening I simply went to it of pure curiosity, I had always had such a weakness for art and photography.

I can still remember exactly how I stood in front of one of your works and was literally speechless and overwhelmed by this picture and all his small details. This painting represents a classic image of the countryside, which was often to be found everywhere. But this work was different. So full of small details and ornaments. It was so much more... As a viewer you can see a beautiful clearing, which is surrounded by trees and protected from too many curious eyes. The ground of this clearing is overgrown with dense and lush green grass, which from the incoming sunlight almost invites you to let yourself fall into the grass. It reminds me instantly of my carefree childhood, when I rolled in it without overthinking my actions too much and those times when I playfully wrestled with my best friends around until our clothes had grass stains all everywhere. I could almost smell the scent of wild, untamed nature. The longer I look at the picture, the greater the longing became. Maybe I could visit this beautiful place one day, together with my partner, my significant other. Playing around with each other, chasing your beloved one until you fall into the grass breathless laughing and cuddling. Maybe we could have a picnic there and feed each other with homemade sweets? 

I didn’t know that such a "simple" landscape painting could touch and awaken so much more in me, in my soul. Suddenly, such a wanderlust came over me that I gasped for air and a heavy lump formed in my throat. My whole body was tingling and my heart was literally screaming to get away from this dreadfully grey and monotonous daily routine of my boring single life, for at least some weeks. I want to go to this place, where I could draw the warm and fresh, natural air could deep into my lungs and pamper myself with homemade delicacies. Just to let the soul dangle and don’t stuck with my closely clocked work life. Maybe sleep until 10 o'clock in the morning and then maybe have a nice nap later. Enjoy the warm nights and hear the crickets chirping. This longing was... irrepressible. This particular wanderlust for nature, just to be out of the city, this longing for exactly this abandoned and untouched forest clearing literally overwhelmed me. What was it for an artist who could trigger such feelings and emotions in me?

I had been so absorbed in the artwork that I had not even noticed that a person step next to me. "Do you like the work?", asked a soft melodic voice, which spoke perfect Korean, but was pervaded by a light accent, which I could not quite assign. I flinched a little, but this bright, happy laugh gave me a tingling goosebumps all over my body. What a beautiful laugh... I turned to the person who was the owner of this beautiful voice. I was startled when I realized that the artist and owner of this studio was standing in front of me personally. I recognized her again, as I had seen a small photo of her in the newspaper article that drew my attention to this beautiful studio in the first place. Already in this picture she had radiated something so strong, colorful, cheerful and lively, which caused an excited flutter in my stomach. 

I admit, I already laid an eye on her just by her appearance. Unfortunately I always had a hard time getting to know people ever since, let alone to talk to women. And now having you, Y/N, personally standing right in front of me, made me feel fluffy and excited in my stomach. Nothing is left of this otherwise so sassy and self-confident  man that I used to be. Only a nervous and stodgy twenty-three-year-old idiot, who did not know what to say or wanted to say, now stands in front of this stunningly pretty and intelligent woman.

Her eyes sparkles like jewels, full of joy, struck me with interest and a playful smile lays on her lips. "Did you not understand my question?", she asked kindly, but nobly reserved. Immediately a rosy puff settled on my cheeks and I stuttered nervously: "Y-Yes, excuse me! I... I was just somewhere else with my thoughts and was completely surprised that they were addressing me personally.... Your works are truly unique! They still show such ‘usual’ motifs and yet they are so special because of these finely elaborated details and this passion with which this work of art was painted. They really are... Unique artworks that you do not forget so quickly. Even for untrained eyes as my owns, I can see that a talented artist has worked on it. I am very impressed by your work, especially this work here!" You could hear the honest admiration from my voice and my heart leapt as she reacted bashful to all of my compliments.

"Thank you, really, thank you so much! I really appreciate to hear such nice words like yours, even if it is rare. I am often criticized for my ‘lack of creativity’, caused by my chosen motives. I just love the rough, almost untouched landscapes of my hometown, I try to depict the ‘normal’ as something beautiful, unique. I would like to ‘really see’ what we already take for granted again. As a wonderful creation, a work of art. Nature is a wonderful example of this, or the architecture of buildings as well. Architects are also artists, although unfortunately they are not seen as such. I just want to offer the obvious things a more meaningful space again.... People like you have become rare. I have observed how you have recognized the true meaning, this beauty and aesthetics in such a ‘usual-looking’ motif. And this pleases me so much that you can read 'between the brushstrokes'. Oh... Excuse me, I always talk way too much when someone shows an interest in art or music, my personal passions. Besides that, I have not introduced myself to you yet, I am Y/N! I was obviously so pleased to see your understanding, empathetic look at this work, if you understand what I mean... Anyway... I can guess that you knew my name already, don't you? What about you? May I know your name?", asked you, beautiful artist, with her really stunning smile.

I swallowed nervously, never before had a young lady mixed my emotions so much in me. Even the picture of her in the newspaper article, which I had read out of boredom in one of my lectures, got me so emotionallyconfused. I didn't want to say it in front of my teasing friends, but I had been really excited when I set off this Friday night. And now the creator of these works of art stood before me and seemed to want to have a longer conversation with me. My heart beats to my throat and I got sweaty hands from this nervousness in my poor body. Honestly, as soon as I wasn't surrounded by my clique of friends, I automatically turned into a nervous, slightly abashed blushing and stuttering guy who behave like an inexperienced teenager. 

In private life, without my best mates by the side, I am not so confident and daredevil. After all, I always had someone who could cover my back when things get tough, while I am on my own without anyone I know. You could usually only believe and trust, not control. That's probably why I struggled with interpersonal relationships. I always overthink too much and have some struggles with my self-confidence.

And now this attractive young woman looked at me with such interest and joy, just me. I was actually the reason for her interest. A joyful and blissful tingling seized every pore, every fiber of my body. Yes, in fact it was just me! Not my best buddy Seokjin, whom I have known since childhood and always sought the attention of everyone. It was no exaggeration to say that he was perhaps a little narcissistic, but only to cover up his own insecurities. Never would I have thought that someone would manage to get this personification of self-love under control. I admired his wife for standing up to Seokjin and keeping him and his dad Jokes at bay. Believe it or not, she of all people had the pants on in the house and knew how to deal with my best friend.

My gaze glided over the figure of the person in front of me and once again I took a sharp breath. I was so nervous to face her personally, a person I already deeply admired and had quite a respect for. I simply did not want to do anything wrong, even if this charm of hers was almost tangible and paralyzed my entire brain with its function. I can already picture how my mind waved wildly goodbye to myself and went to the summer holiday in the Caribbean.

This carefree smile and these beautiful eyes harmonized wonderfully with your complexion. Your features were awake and alive, seemingly always a slight smile surrounded the corners of your mouth, which provoked almost paradoxical reactions in my body. Your smile awake countless butterflies to flutter around in my stomach, which made me quite nervous and at the same time you radiated such a sense of security and calm, as if there was no reason not to get a word out of shyness. My gaze, which I hope examined you unobtrusively enough, wandered to your hands. You had long fingers, I could really imagine how they elegantly held the handle of the paint brushes and worked on these small details extensively in such a calm behavior. Which satisfied and concentrated calmness you possibly radiated while doing that...

A small, noble clearing of your throat again tore me out of my fantasies and speculations. God, what was I today but inattentive! How rude I must have seemed to you...

"Oh, sorry... I... I have not been able to keep my thoughts together all day..." I lied to seem at least a little more credible. Nervously, I pulled on the knot of my tie to loosen it up a little before I have a circulatory collapse. Before I went here, I thought for a long time about what I should wear for this occasion. Jeans and T-shirt were out of the question, too casual and almost an insult for your atelier. A complete suit, however, seemed too overdressed to me and so I decided for a black dress pants and a dark blue dress shirt.Understanding, Y/N nodded and gave me a cheering smile, which made my body tingle again. This woman drove me half crazy alone with his friendly gestures. How could it be that this polite lady got me confused right away?!

And somehow, it gave me a frenzy to leave my secure, anonymous side as a visitor to her exhibition and irrevocably reveal my true identity to you.

"My name is Jeon Jungkook."I answered in a slightly trembling voice, hardly daring to look into her eyes and rubbing my neck unobtrusively.

* Jungkook’s POV *

If only I had guessed what would change in me, how you changed me. That so much more would develop from a pure interest and a simple formal business contact... that you want to make me one of your artworks.

I take another deep breath before I dare to step out from behind the dark red paravent. It is pleasantly warm in this room, I should not freeze, if I am already so freely clothed. My gaze wanders through the small room with the huge, floor-to-ceiling window, which floods the entire room with light. The walls of the room have been painted in a dark orange and red colors and dark wooden planks lay out on the floor. It looks so comfortable due to the warm, dark tones. The orange-yellow evening sun dipped everything into something so cozy... sensual. Somehow into even a little erotic?

Y/N wants to work a lot with the light of the evening sun in this painting, which could be a little complicated if it is not suitable or if it is cloud-covered. But if you have put something into your head, especially in relation to your art, then you do everything you can do to go through it! Also the changing forces of nature cannot stop you from trying to realize your idea. Sometimes, you’re  someone who is quickly frustrated and dissatisfied with yourself as well, especially when something doesn't work as  you wants it to. Nevertheless when it comes to your passion, drawing and painting, you don’t let your idea go away, if you want something, you’ll find a way to make it happen. These are qualities that I know all too well of myself and thus my fascination about you only grows even more. The more time we spent together and I get to know more and more sides of you, the more attracted I became to you.

Your art means a lot to you and you’re quite tough in this respect, can not be overcome by the reproaches and the crushing criticism. That’s exactly what I admire so much about you, having the courage to stand up for personal passion. When I get criticized, all too often I think about really giving up on it, so that I don't have to endure all this criticism anymore. And then I look at you. How focused you are in this moment and carefully prepare for your next project. How you adjusts you easel to the right height, let your self-stretched canvas snap into place, spreads brushes of all sizes and shapes on the small side table next to you and prepares youracrylic colours. I swallow again, as I watched this happen. I am about to become one of your next artworks.

A little uncertainly I walk towards Y/N, the thin dressing gown tightly drawn around my body... never before have I felt so naked and vulnerable. This here is something else. I feel something about it... I feel something for you. For this pretty lady, who sprays her cheerfulness around her and could conjure a smile on the lips of even the most grumpy person. This joy almost kills you, completely engrossed this person and gives you the feeling of floating. You will get the feeling of being welcome at Y/N. To be accepted, with all the flaws and weaknesses that one has. She just smiles at you so gently and lovingly and just says, it's okay. It's okay to be the way you are. Imperfect.

"It is precisely this imperfect, this contradictory and also unpredictable thing that makes us human. That makes us an individual and also interesting. If we were really all as we are expected to be, it would be boring and monotonous. The surprise is only a real gift. Each of us is a very individual gift to a very specific addressee, who is the only one who can truly appreciate this gift. Only then did the recipient find the right person as his gift... Well, if the recipient knows about his gift...", Y/N once said with such a certain look at me, when we went out to dinner together in a restaurant in the evening to clarify some details. I wanted to help her find good contacts in Seoul and help her sell her works.

I can still remember it exactly... it was a quite... extraordinary evening. I was of course once again incredibly nervous and excited. At that time, I did not want to fully realize how much I already like you. Secretly, I had observed my opposite. Your positive and friendly disposition had turned my head all around... and in addition, this beautiful body and her elegant fingers, which already haunt me in the most erotic way unintentionally in my dreams. 

I could not prevent my dream pictures from shooting through my head, which is why my cheeks turned dark red in embarrassment. These fucking fantasies in my head! My eyes stare at the cutlery as if it were incredibly interesting because I didn't dare look up. There were scenes in my mind that made my ears turn red and I would’ve loved to hide behind the menu card. Your body, which made her look like a Greek goddess.

Naked, body covered in sweat, your body shook in lust, you sit up with a wonderful moan... You are on top of me, I could admire your beautiful, almost divine body as you sat on top of me... and rode me. This breathtakingly beautiful distorted face of yours, as if all this pleasure you feel is carved in marble... lids closed, your lips, swollen from all the kissing, are slightly opened which let    your lustful whimpering escape. This grace and elegance, as you rose from me and  then lowered yourself again... as your hands glide erratically over my stomach, searching for support... you suddenly threw your head back and clenched even more tightly around my length. The addicting sounds you’ve made... it’s like the most beautiful melody in my ears... squelching noises and even more of yourjuices gushing out of your sweet, so sweet pussy when you came...

An all-too-familiar laugh tore me out of my extremely indecent thoughts, which quite relieved me at first. Until I raised my head and not too far away I recognized no one but my best friend Kim Seokjin, who made very questionable hand signals in my direction. Oh my God, no! I knew that he had recently changed his job and got accepted for a position as a chef in a new restaurant... but not in this Restaurant! He will never let me life after he found out I was on a “Date” with a woman...

Even though Seokjin was on the other side of the restaurant, I could almost feel his smirk on my own skin. Fuck it, just pretend as if you do not know each other and hit him really hard tomorrow morning in the gym where we meet up for our work out. I quickly turned all my attention back to the person sitting opposite me and tried to ignore Seokjin as best I could.

It was only at the end of the evening, when I had said goodbye to Y/N, that I realized that this meeting had much more of a date than a "business dinner". How familiar we had talked with each other... how much I had thought about licking Y/N the drop from the chocolate sauce of her lava cake from her lips... how it would be... to kiss and touch you...

A noticeable blush has settled on my cheeks as I attended our first meeting together... or even Date in this Restaurant thought back. Four months had passed since then and I suffered from longing for you. You would never see me like I saw you. The reason you wanted to draw me was simply that she needed someone as a model. In addition to landscapes and cities, you want to devote herself gradually to more other motifs. And since I have been the first inquired. Your pleading eyes made me say yes. But I know that for me you have  no more than the feelings for a casual friendship. It hurts to see how you flirt  around so casually with all those other people. I would never be the gift for you as you are for me. If only the recipient would notice that there is a given heart laying in your hands...

"Ah, Jungkook! I’m glad that you're ready!", your cheerful and melodic voice cuts through the silence of the room and you’re walking towards me with excited shining eyes. "Come~," you say and lead me to the chaiselongue, which is placed in front of the large window. The soft, orange light of the evening sun falls on the wine-red fabric of the restored chaiselounge in baroque style. The upholstery has frames covered in gold and also the lion feet on which this historic furniture stands are gilded. Everything was decorated with so many Details, it looks so incredibly elegant and luxurious. On the left side there are some cushions in the same color and an elegant design is carved on the backrest, literally inviting to get used.

"Surely you know the movie 'Titanic', right? Do you remember the scene where Jack used charcoal pencils to draw an nude coal picture of Rose as she laid on the sofa? I would like to draw you in a similar position. I hope it's okay for you if I look at you more closely without a dressing gown... i want to get an overview of your body proportions.", you say, looking me straight in the eye. I notice that you’re very concerned about my privacy and does not want to overstep any of my personal boundaries without my consent. I nod slightly at first until I get a clear yes over my lips. She looks at me silently for a few seconds before reassuring me once again that we can always stop at any time if I feel uncomfortable. Especially your patience and mindfulness of my boundaries shows me how important it is for you as well and how I actually relax noticeably. Y/N smiles cheerfully at me and I slowly loosen the belt of the dressing gown and let the last garment slide to the ground. I feel her in-depth look at me... he is not uncomfortable... only... exciting... in a few different ways.

I swallow again and lie down on the chaiselongue as instructed. You correct my arm and leg position, also rearrange all of the cushions correctly. To my own relief, you put a red cloth over my crotch area. Not that I am ashamed of anything, I am more than comfortable with you already... I just have some worries that I will get a visible problem if I constantly feel your look on my bare skin.

 "It should be able to guess something, but not be allowed to see everything right away...", she whispered with a smile, before her fingertips unintentionally glide tenderly through my happy trail. One of your last smiles are... not really to interpret. Then you return to your easel.

* The Reader’s POV *

Carefully you sit down on your old painting stool, already quite worn out on the edges and stained with the most different types and tones of colors. It had originally been dark brown. You smile dreamily when you think back that you’re used to dangle your legs around when you were a little kid because it was way too big for you back then. For eighteen years now you have exactly this stool and this easel. They had been a gift from your grandfather for your fifth birthday. He had awakened the passion of painting and drawing in you and passed his talent on to you. A certain melancholy seized you when I thought back to how you used to paint your first real picture on canvas with your new easel in the old music room in your grandfather's country house. 

It had been the old, dusty grand piano, which must have been more than a hundred years old at that time. How the country house survived all these wars unscathed, you ask yourself to this day. Perhaps there had already been something magical about it at that time, which should remain untouched. Perhaps the small estate should remain an inconspicuous symbol of hope, the hope that at some point the sun and peace will return when the unbearable suffering and sorrow of this cruel time is over. When the wars were over and all those seeking protection who had fled to this country house were able to return to their own homes again. This house, this estate you can explain your childhood with a single word. Home.

You lift your thought-lost look from your empty, folded hands and look to Jungkook. He takes your breath away every time you see him. He is so special, such a wonderful and yet you firmly believe that he has not been chosen for you, such an ordinary woman as you are. He would belong to someone else with whom he would be happy, although he is the only one who was able to understand and read your works, the language in them. It... it had been such a beautiful moment when, six months ago, he stood in your newly opened studio, so absorbed by the painting of the forest of your childhood. All the other visitors had only looked at it briefly and smiled wearily at the fact that it was again only a landscape painting, but did not grasp what the story behind this work was. Why the artist chosed this very motif, to see, to feel what the creator wanted to communicate through the work. 

But Jungkook had been different. He had given the work, your personal heart, a chance to unravel the true meaning behind it. He did it slowly, bit by bit with his eyes... grasped with his whole mind and heart and finally let himself be influenced as a whole. You could tell from his body reactions that he felt exactly what you had felt when you painted it last summer. Longing. Infinite Longing. Mixed together with melancholy, a little homesickness and sorrow to a unique emotional color. The day you painted it was the last time you saw the house in your official possession. Your grandfather had left it to you. But unfortunately you lacked money, you had to pay some debts and with the best will you could not earn the money in other ways. So you had to sell it with a heavy heart. Your beloved birth and childhood home and the associated lands, you had to sell your true home away. The picture is the only thing left of it. And Jungkook was the only person who understood what you wanted to express with the painting. Longing. My Homesickness.

When all these sensations came upon him, he involuntarily clenched his hands tightly, his chest lifted and lowered quickly, his Adam's apple hopped repeatedly. His eyes were glassy. He experienced your longing as directly as you did. He... is so special. So infinitely amiable. He... he is the only person who’s able to read your true feelings in your works. He is able to read between your brush strokes.

So today you will try him... to paint a confession of love with this act. Maybe he could read... what you feel for him. Even if you know that you will probably never see him again. Because you would not be the recipient of his love and affection. He's just too... too... gifted for a simple artist like you. He would never be your gifted person.

Your gaze glides tenderly and caressingly over his body. Trying to absorb every little detail of his body, his charisma and his character into you and let it flow into the painting. Every birthmark you want to put on the canvas and hold on. You want to show Jungkook how beautiful he is. How godlike he lies before you on this majestic chaiselongue, how masculine and muscular he is, as if he wanted to embody an Adonis. You want to paint every muscle, even the smallest visible muscle, on the canvas in a realistic manner, you want to capture the strength and security that he conveys to you over and over again and make it visible to him. And yet... his gaze often corresponds to that of an intimidated, insecure fawn, which does not dare to want to get up on his legs on his own. The fear of falling again is too big. Through this painting you want to show Jungkook what he really is, what he represents for you and what you feel for him. He is... so contradictory. He is strong, godlike, powerful... and at the same time, so infinitely uncertain, vulnerable... almost pure.

Silence enters your little studio, only the regular breathing of the other and the muffled noise of the busy world outside the door could be heard. Here... here, it feels like time is standing still for a moment for the two of you. Your shared eternity had begun.

To your happiness that it is summer right now and it stays bright for a long time. Today you take more time than usual to mix colors. You want to mix a shade that perfectly matches his skin tone. You want to get the exact color of his black hair down onto the canvas, and the perfect brown for his beautiful eyes. The evening sun and the leaves of the huge treetops in front of the large window conjure up the most beautiful patterns on his immaculate body. A game of light and shadow. It seems to you that Jungkook's body, every single pore of his body has a tiny diamond, so that he begins to sparkle in the sunlight like an infinitely precious jewel. The evening sun warms him, lays a thin layer of sweat over his body. Every detail you try to bring to the canvas, every feeling, every movement of my heart, everything you feel for him, you want to bring to this canvas. You want to make him a masterpiece. Because for you, he is the most beautiful specimen, the only true crown of the human creation.

Some black strands have come loose from his manbun and have fallen on his forehead. It looks stunning, to see him like that. I had never seen him with a messy or even completely open hair... but even now these strands loosened from the braid make his facial features look so much softer and more relaxed. In it, the adult and strong man united with a young, vulnerable, shy boy. The result is... infinitely beautiful. He possesses both sides, so he makes the seemingly inexhaustible divine human being.

His eyes, drawing his eyes with that expression in them, cost you a lot of nerves. Too often you misunderstood this infinite longing that you find in his dark, brown eyes. Again and again you have to restrain yourself, not just to get up, to go over to him... and to kiss him.

This longing look you misinterpret is as longing as you own... according to your closeness, your touch, your affection... according to your love. Because you love him. You love everything about him, his sheepish laugh, the way of rubbing his neck shyly, the way he speaks and explains his point of views about things, how he smells... just everything... every blemish he blames on himself, you think it’s like an artwork on him. He is so perfectly imperfect that you just fell in love with him.

The sun has already set and only the last pink and purple streaks could be seen in the sky, with which the past day says goodbye to the world. One last time you can hear the velvety stroke of the brush over the canvas before you finally put the brush aside. It is finished. You have given everything that is in your power, used all of your artistic abilities and knowledge to the utmost and you have incorporated everything that you feel and think about into this artwork. And what you see put a smile on your lips, but also makes your pulse rise. What will Jungkook say when he looks at it? He will see it... can he read what you feel for him in it?

With a trembling voice, you call Jungkook and look at him one last time. The last time the sight of this male beauty was granted to you. One last time.

After Jungkook has wrapped himself in the dressing gown again, he slowly comes towards you and your easel. Your heart is throbbing as if it really wants to fearfully flight and jump out of your chest. Your body gets hot and cold at the same time and suddenly your hands get sweaty, the dried color on your skin mixes with the sweat to a uncomfortable mess in your palms, which somehow makes you even more nervous. Then he stands next to you. Looking at the canvas for the first time himself. The last brushstroke is still drying.

Once again there is silence, which makes you incredibly nervous and with every second that passes, you want to follow your instinct to escape. Jungkook's pupils are dilated and blown out, whether with bewilderment or horror, you can not recognize. One of his hands shoots up his mouth, he trembles all over his body. Suddenly you hear a suppressed, throaty sobbing. Surprised and a little appalled, you look at Jungkook, who has shut his eyes tightly and presses the palm of his hand even harder on his mouth, as if he wants to muffle every sound. Tears escape the corners of his eyes. This is a reaction... which you would not have expected...

Gently, mindful of any kind of resistance, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't sob, he doesn't whimper. He just cries. Tenderly, consolingly you hold him, without wanting to distress him. He literally presses his face into the crook of your neck. Salty tears drench your blouse, but it doesn't bother you. The reason why he had such an emotional outburst, you just don't understand. But still... it's okay. It is valid.

As he slowly calms down and his breathes becomes regularly again, he carefully lifts his head out of the crook of your neck and wipes the last tears out of his eyes dry in slight embarrassment. He slowly releases himself from your embrace until you finally stand silently in front of each other.

"What title you’ll give this artwork?", he asks softly, in a rough, throaty voice. You swallow . "It shall be called 'Der Geliebte'. ...it is german and translated it means... ‘The beloved’ ", you say barely audibly and lower your head. After this confession, you can no longer look him in the eyes.

Jungkook takes a sharp breath in and you're actually just waiting for a devastating response from him that would be like a death threat. But nothing of this happened. Instead, your chin is suddenly raised by his fingertips and you look into Jungkook's beautiful eyes. He bites his lower lip a little uncertainly,his own gaze falls on your pretty shaped lips. 

"Do you... do you allow me to kiss you?", he asks quietly... barely audible for you even though you’re standing so close to each other. He doesn't dare to look you into the eyes after such a question, he is too afraid that you deny his request. But you can hardly believe your luck, a high pitched ‘yes!’ flew over your lips and before you can control yourself, you press your own lips right onto his. They are incredibly soft and kiss you back in such a delightfully and endearing insecure and shy manner as no other could ever have done it.

Your heart beats full of joy and bliss and in your belly, the butterflies fly somersaults of all different kinds that your whole body began to tingle. Your mind cannot get a grasp of all this yet, but this... you don't need any more of it at this moment anyway.

The kiss is tender, shy and somewhat uncertain from both sides. Jungkook is very insecure and shy, but before he can escape like a frightened deer again, you put your arms around his neck and let your hands rest in the nape of his scalp. Again and again you detach yourselves from each other only for the fraction of a second to get a breath of air into your lungs in order to find each other lips again... until you stopped for a few seconds.

"I like you... I like you really, really much, Jungkook... I even dare to say that I fell on love with you.", you mutter softly against his lips. His shy, happy smile was too much for you, so you immediately kiss him again. Perhaps because of the sheer joy and maybe of the certainty that he feels the same for you, the next kiss turns into something more passionate than before...

january: an art retrospective

i did some stuff last month (but it’s a lot of stuff and there’s a photodump + some Serious Fucking Reflection, so it’s all below the cut)

so ok, let’s start with this. here are some heads. each head has a red arrow. that red arrow is what i call the red line of the devil. it’s the slope of the face from the side of the eye to the cheekbone and then down towards the chin. up until like 2 weeks ago, i couldn’t draw it. i couldn’t fucking draw it. i would edit over that part of the face over and over again until i was frustrated and tired and i had a raging homosexual headache and it still never looked right. notice that each head is different. notice that each head looks wrong.

at the start of 2021 i finally admitted to myself, as per the image above, that i was deeply, deeply unhappy with my art. what was the problem? i dunno. but i decided i was going to fix it and i was going to do so via another one scribble a day event wherein for every day of january i would find a photo of a human head, and i would draw it.

january 1st, 2021. i was embarrassed to tweet this even on my private account where like 5 friends and a rock would see it. in retrospect, you can also see all of my bad habits emerging like dicks from a hole in the ground. it’s disproportionate. the brows look flat. the eyes are slanting upwards. the entire drawing looks flat, like this isn’t a 3d person but a caricature of one.

january 2nd, 3rd, 4th:

on the 2nd i decided to start a separate thread for doodles and applied learning. here’s the first set of tests

the rest of the week is kind of uneventful so we’re going to skip those. fast forward to january 11th

this one is especially bad. i am acutely aware, suddenly, that i am not changing anything at all. i’m stressed and miserable about it because i’m still trying to see people as people and trying to draw people that look attractive and proportionate and hot. my friend, leny, reminds me that i need to think about faces in terms of planes. i have a moment. my other friend masha sends me some links to anatomy tutorials. i have another moment.

january 11th. applied sketch

january 13th is when i start the troubleshooting process. the link above drives me mad because i’m pretty happy with the face but then i realize that there’s something very fucking wrong with the shape of the head LOL and then i realize that i’ve never had any idea what the proportion of the face to the rest of the skull is so i grit my teeth and i open a new canvas and i

bald studies. it seemed like the right thing to do. can’t draw heads? ok draw some heads. look at some photographs. i traced each photo but tried to stick to straight lines so that i could replicate the shapes more easily. i broke each face down into shapes. i thought about airplanes

i got really excited. i started doing studies, then applied studies, then stylized studies.

sketches. i’m not sure what’s going on (as always) and it’s very rough, but they look different from the sketches i did on january 2nd. that’s a start

january 16th’s daily study. looks more like a person now. juuuuuust a bit

more applied studies

on the 18th i take a break and go stare at some lips because i don’t understand how the fuck they work. again, i focus on shapes, on volume, on the fact that these things exist in 3d. holy fuck lips exist in 3d. holy fuck we are real

january 19th. i’m working on it.

january 22nd. some sketches + a daily study. it has finally occurred to me that heads can tilt up and down and that things look different accordingly. yes i was not aware of this before. yes i have been drawing for over a decade.

january 23rd. by this point after doing my daily sketch i almost always go back and do an applied study which is basically to say i drew a lot of fucking links. this one looks kind of okay. i’m kind of proud

january 25th. links. trying to make sense of everything i’ve learned

26th, 27th, 28th. daily studies

january 1st. january 31st

The End Of The Photo Dump (dab)

ok NOW i get to talk about what i discovered while studying the shit out of human beings

FIRST OF ALL, there is something precious and magical about drawing shit without the explicit knowledge that you’re going to tweet that shit out to 45 people later. it takes the burden of perception off your shoulders and that does something to you, or at least that’s my theory. i told myself i wouldn’t post any of this stuff until the end of the month (if i wanted to post it at all) and kept everything off my public social media accounts and that meant i could draw ugly as hell without worrying about who would point and laugh, which i absolutely fucking did. a lot of these are fucking trainwrecks. most of these are fucking trainwrecks. why do they look like that?? why??? this doesn’t look like the work of someone who’s allegedly been drawing since they were in kindergarten, does it?????

here’s why: because that person took a huge motherfucking swing at everything they’d ever known about art and spent a month building something new in its place. the abstract explanation is that i grew up on shoujo and weird old anime and my understanding of anatomy was unironically kamichama karin and while i love kamichama karin, when kamichama karin is your rule even if you try to break it, you’re going to end up going nowhere. “you have to know the rules to break them”, yeah? well i didn’t know shit. the abstract explanation is i’ve been miserable about my art for a few years now because i saw other people doing things effortlessly which i couldn’t and instead of going back to the basics, i tried to do what they did (not plagiarism, mind you, i mean i literally tried to copy the red line of the devil i mentioned above because i couldn’t even make that happen) and then i fucking failed.

the simple explanation is this. i had to unlearn everything, and relearn it again (like some kind of new renaissance clown, what the fuck is this?)

take this for example. all my life i’ve drawn faces in the order: eyes, nose, mouth, face shape, head. this works for some people, im aware, but it was something central to how i had always drawn, so i decentralized it. i said fuck you to the old me and changed the order up. now i start with the nose, then the eyes, mouth, the chin line, and the sides of the face. now i force myself to think about the human head as a series of parts interacting with each other instead of a bunch of disparate features which i want to look pretty.

or let’s use this zelda from last year. something about this looked wrong last october, the way something about all of my drawings looked wrong, but i couldn’t pinpoint it for hell the way i couldn’t articulate Any of my feelings about the visual arts. now, looking back, here’s what i see. that nose is sticking out far too much given how she’s not really facing very far away from the camera. that ear at the back shouldn’t be there. her forehead is too big. she doesn’t have a forehead. what the fuck is up with the shape of her head?

so apparently reject modernity embrace tradition has its roots in alt-right terminology and i’m not very horny for the alt-right (you understand), but the spirit survives here. you know sometimes you have to admit that you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing and draw people for 31 days. i’ve spent my whole life drawing stylized people and while again there are artists who have no issue with this, i veered off the track of the Good and the Holy and couldn’t get back on. i had no point of reference because i’d never thought about what an actual human being looks like, so i had no way to fix what i knew in my gut looked wrong but wouldn’t come out better.

this was hard. this was like oikawa tooru swallowing his worthless pride and admitting that ushijima wakatoshi had gotten the best of him for the last time in his high school career, but in haikyuu!! by furudate haruichi oikawa tooru fucks off to argentina and then joins the argentinean national team, and you know what, i think i’ve made it to argentina (not the team just the country). as per the golden rule of dont fucking move until you’re at least two thirds of the way through the month, i only started trying to draw Shit shit on like the 22nd or something, but i was happy with that i created. i am happy with what i’ve done. i’ve posted like 2 things this month that involve people with what i now call ~applied Knowledge~~ and they’re, like, not perfect obviously (perfection is an unattainable ideal), but i’m fucking proud of them. i didn’t spend 5 hours hunched over my laptop adjusting the red line of the devil because it’s not a devil’s line anymore. because i finally sorta get how people work. because i sat down and i said ‘we are not going to fuck with this misery shit anymore’ and then i did that. it’s just a line now.

here are 2 collages tracking my painstakingly carved out progress from january 2nd to february 2nd because i’m a slut for collages

and here’s what i’ve done to my art! the same person drew these but also Not Really! you know! for the first time in a year i don’t immediately hate what i’ve drawn. you know what guys? art is fucking fun. zelda’s forehead doesn’t scare me anymore because i know how foreheads fucking work now, and i don’t know everything, and i’m going to keep troubleshooting stuff as i go (i want to draw a skeleton. like a. i want to draw a goddamn skeleton guys) but i’m honestly and genuinely proud of what i’ve done in the span of a month, and i’m also in disbelief. i started this month-long challenge out as a last ditch effort to make peace with my art because i’ve been tired for a long time and i was ready to kick the bucket on drawing people altogether. i didn’t think anything would happen. nothing’s happened for years. i’ve been miserable for years.

this was the caption for january 1st, 2021. i was super, super fucking embarrassed and it looks like super fucking shit, but you know what, i think i did in fact triumph over the bullshit. surprisingly enough, when you put in consistent effort into something, You Will See Results. didn’t see that coming, did you? i know i didn’t.

this isn’t a success story. it’s a happiness story. i never gave a shit damn about the institute of art or whatever, i was just mad at myself because what i saw in my head didn’t match up with what was on the canvas. and now it’s getting better. now i’m calibrating the compass. now drawing not just backgrounds but also people is exciting to me, and i can stick my links in your face and tell you ‘they hot’. i’m going to keep doing that. i’m going to keep going until i drop off the side of the earth and then spiral towards mars like some kind of fairy, and then i’m going to create something beautiful.

thanks for reading. here’s a pr department link for sticking around until the end

Of kisses and Roman traditions

[SUMMARY] Where Seungkwan enjoys kissing you and blames it on the Romans.

Idk what this is. Fluff? Flirty!Seungkwan definitely. Oh and noona!reader😁

3,087 words

HAPPY 6 YEARS TO MY BOYS💖💎

masterlist

You and Seungkwan have already kissed on three occasions. You didn't want to put too much thought into it, and you never mentioned it anyway. But sometimes it's hard to stop thinking about what those kisses mean.

The first kiss was at Seungkwan's house. All your friends were already asleep, tired of playing all his board games, and drunk innumerable bottles of liquor. You had finished cleaning up when Seungkwan came towards you. "Yah, why did you clean? This is my apartment.” You laughed at his half-asleep state, you could see just how tired he was trying to beat Soonyoung with one drunk. He did his best, but Soonyoung kept giving him +2s and +4s of tequila or vodka and mixing alcohol in Seungkwan's system ended badly. He threw up twice overnight.

"Look at you, hangover's gonna bite your ass in the morning. And you know I can't sleep when this place is trashed." You can hear him laughing lazily, trying to stay awake. "Come on, let's get you to bed." Seungkwan grins, "Starving. Creamy cheese bagels. Feed me?" You laughed at his antiques. You met him a year ago, and you know drunk Seungkwan needs to eat before he goes to bed. "This is a way of waking up hangover-free, noona. You should try it." But you know that Seungkwan will still have a headache the following day, with an Americano as a telling sign.

"You're too cute for your own good, do you know that?" You joked to him, shaking your head. You were warming up the bagel when he took your hand. "Happy anniversary, noona."

"What?"

"Do you think I wouldn't remember? It's the anniversary of the first time we met.”

"What a sappy, sappy man you are." You laugh while finishing his sandwich. You turned around to face him and said "ah" so he could take a bite out of the bagel. When he did, it was as if he had tasted food for the first time. When he had already swallowed his first bite, he suddenly threw his arms into your waist, swallowing you in a cuddle. That surprised you because he's not usually that sweet, and now he's very touchy.

"What are you doing?" You asked him when he set his bagel down on the counter and tugged the ends of your shirt pulling you closer to him. This is the only time you have noticed how he is a few inches taller than you, and that he has long eyelashes a bit like those of a baby. You were that close to notice that. He slowly bent over your face, staring directly at your lips, waiting for you to stop him. When you didn't, he closed the gap between the two of you and kissed you softly.

When he retired, he laid his head upon the counter and slept his intoxication away. You figured he’s too wasted to have done so. When you asked about the kiss the next day, he brushed it off, saying,  “Sorry, got wasted trying to beat that tiger hyung.”  

“Just don’t do it again okay? Friends don’t do that.”

“Yepp,” popping the last letter, “I’ll take you to your favorite burger place to make it up to you.” He drags you to his car while holding your hand. When he was driving, he held your hand still. “Hey, it's not okay to kiss, but it's okay to hold hands?” There was complete silence.

“Friends can hold hands, sure. When did friends start kissing on the lips?

“Friends with benefits do.”

“Ya are you asking me to? Cause you know I’m not into that kind of shit!”

Seungkwan laughed at your outburst. “Joking noona, sheesh. You’re getting old.”

“Shut it, I’m barely a year older than you.”

Throughout the ride, he didn't let go of your hand. However, you didn't seem to mind the extra warmth.

The second kiss took place around a campfire.

Soonyoung told the three of you that he wanted to go for a drive, and you were shocked when he suddenly parked by a beach. You never asked how Soonyoung got all of your clothes and other belongings, but he seemed to need the view of a peaceful ocean at night, so you all decided. You were already there, and the semester had just ended.

While you and Seungkwan were eating dinner you bought near the store, Seokmin began jamming to a guitar and singing his heart out. Soonyoung was on the lookout for the beach's caretaker to inquire about some wood for a campfire.

“I swear, I know Soonyoung oppa is the most spontaneous of us all, but I never expected him to be this bad. Is it really because of the finals?” 

“He may look carefree, but hyung goes through a lot,” Seokmin chuckled. You understand; everybody has their own way of dealing with their baggage, and Soonyoung's are to be daring and laugh his problems away.

“Minnie, can you play the song you submitted for your music class as a group project?” Campfire?” You believe it is appropriate for the atmosphere of the evening. While Seokmin was singing, you glanced over at Soonyoung to see how he was doing. His smile is beaming, and his eyes are glassy as he takes in the stunning scenery in front of him. You were relieved to see that his plan worked.

You looked at Seungkwan, realizing that this was his first time hearing the track. “Kwannie, pay attention to the next line. It's comforting.” You sang with Seokmin when the part came up. It reminds you of how Seungkwan made getting out of bed easier every day. Your anxiety held you awake at night or made you fearful of what might happen the next day. But Seungkwan, he unintentionally shone on you at a difficult period. Slowly but steadily, you began to anticipate waking up knowing that he would face the day with you.

Soonyoung accompanied Seokmin to the market to buy some food after he finished jamming due to his hunger. It was time for you to jam. Of course, you'd choose Taylor Swift's The Way I Loved You, in honor of her Fearless cover. You've always admired Taylor Swift's music, especially the older songs because you identify with the words she wrote. You were grateful for how her music got you through your childish heartbreaks.

You were so engrossed in Seungkwan's angelic voice that you didn't know he was already squatting in front of you. Both of you were grinning at each other when the last chord was struck, and you kissed him as though it were nothing out of the ordinary. The kiss felt right; it felt like it was what completed the song you were singing; it felt like the happy ending the song promised. To keep your balance, you clutched his arm. When you jerked away from him when you awoke from your daydream, he immediately drew you back in and kissed you again, squeezing your hand three times.

The four of you had agreed to spend Christmas Day at Seokmin's. Your mother didn't let you hear the end of it when you told them you couldn't come home because your family has always been conventional. Your mother guilt-tripping you to come home, saying, "We're family, we're supposed to spend time together." “Ah, well, families are supposed to support one another, not nag each other to death when one fails to meet one's expectations.” After that, you hang up, assuming that if you don't agree, your mother will say something else that you don't want or need to hear.

Seungkwan was supposed to pick you up, so while you were waiting for him, you double-checked everything you'd packed to make sure you hadn't forgotten anything. Seungkwan's introduction of Soonyoung and Seokmin is one of the things for which you are grateful. You've outgrown your crappy friends from high school, so the trio is a breath of fresh air for you.

You place your bags in the trunk as soon as you see his car, like a little kid heading to Disney World. “Thanks for picking me up, Kwannie,” she said, beaming. You excitedly slid down to the passenger seat. He immediately hugged you once you were sitting, saying, "Ah noona, you're in a good mood?" You can see his smile doesn't reach his eyes when you've broken free from the embrace. He's giving you a fake one.

“This is my first trip away from my home. I already know it'll be a lot of fun.”

“Really? At Seokmin Hyung's house, you'll feel right at home. His mother prepares the most delicious Christmas dinner. My mother's cooking pales in comparison.” Seungkwan once gave you a dish made by her mother, and one bite was enough to make you feel like you'd died and gone peacefully to heaven. The fact that Seokmin's mother cooks better piqued your curiosity. “Ah really? Then I'd really have to give it a taste.” He smiled again, the false smile, and you're starting to get bothered by it.

“What are you doing, Kwannie?” You're giving me this strange grin.”

“What do you mean strange?”

“Fake smile. It's the first time you've feigned a smile at me. What’s up?”

“You can see right through me, can't you?”

“Yes, I do. Would you like to talk about it?”

“Nope. But I'd like to take your hand.”

Seungkwan is holding your hand and exhaling contentedly. He kept it until you arrived at Seokmin's house.

Seokmin's house is warm and inviting. They live in a house on a corner with a vibrant garden surrounding it. The living room has an L-shaped couch that can comfortably seat all four of you, with additional seating available. Seokmin and his sister have a wall full of family photos and accomplishments. You can tell Seokmin's parents are a laid-back, loving family, as shown by his kindness and good humor. You don't know if it was the long ride, but you fell asleep as soon as you sat on their couch after the house tour.

When you first awoke, you chose to visit their garden, which you recall has a swing set. Seungkwan is seated by himself.

You teased, "Where are your twins?"

“They went grocery shopping with Mrs. Lee.”

“What kept you from going?”

“Too exhausted from driving.”

“Then you should've just slept with me.”

Seungkwan swung his head in your direction right away. “I-uh, what?”

Then it dawned on you what you'd said. This is so humiliating. “Sleep!” you exclaimed, “Sleeping, with eyes closed and resting-“

“I never expected you to finally ask me-”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHEN YOU SAY "FINALLY" YOU LITTLE SHIT?”

He laughed out loud at your reaction while you chased him around the backyard. He quit running around after you told him that you wouldn't smack him in the head.

“I hate you.”

That made Seungkwan stop laughing.

“Do you regret meeting me?”

You were surprised at his sudden change of tone, no longer joking. “Is this what it’s all about?”

“Well. Yeah.”

“I'm not sure what got you to think like that. You said, “But you know our first meeting was a flop.” When people meet for the first time, they usually ask for each other's names, go through some more tedious formalities, and then seal the deal with a handshake. You had an early class with him, and you didn't mind sharing a seat with him almost every time because you thought he was one of the quiet ones. The year was difficult for you because things didn't go your way, you had a lot of misfortunes, and you had a lot of work piling up that was affecting your mental health.

As you sat down in your chair one fateful morning, you put your cup of coffee on your side of the table. This is where Seungkwan got his drink mixed up with yours because you both have the same coffee taste.

“- flop is an exaggeration for that noona-”

“-you drank my coffee in our 8 a.m. class thinking it was yours, I'll never forgive you.” Reliving that moment made you roll your eyes. “But you know what? You wouldn't have replaced it if you hadn't, and I wouldn't have had the best year of my life.” It may seem to be an exaggeration, but it is true. You were grateful for Seungkwan's carefree and playful personality, which helped you get through your lowest point. He had no idea what you were going through, but you were relieved that someone was taking care of you.

He can be seen chewing his mouth, attempting to conceal his smile. “Ah dumb main character in a drama,” air quotes the phrase, ‘I wish I hadn't met you.' “I instantly thought of you.”

“Huh, that's strange.”

“What is?”

“That. As I previously said, this has been the best year I've had in, what, three years? And it's all thanks to you. I might be harsh with you all of the time, cursing at you whenever I get the chance, but that's just how I am. I'm glad I got you as one of my most reliable friends, my rock, and my go-to person. Even Seokmin and Soonyoung oppa were introduced to me by you. Seungkwan, I'd rather live in a world with you in it. Don’t think otherwise.”

Seungkwan stared at you and felt a combination of emotions. He kissed you when he understood what he felt.  At first, you thought it’ll be quick like the last time, a peck. But he deepened the kiss, and when his tongue touched yours, you hear him groan. He tugged you closer, afraid you’ll get away. He reassuringly held your hands, squeezing them three times just like the second time. I can get used to this. You thought. You focused on his soft lips, how you’ve always felt content while kissing him.

He pulled away, his chest heaving for breath. “Holy shit,” Seungkwan said. You nodded in agreement, apparently unable to concentrate because of your heart beating so loudly.

“I-, uh, I--”

“I thought we’ve talked this through?-”

He sighed deeply before adding, “I-I got cold. Sorry, noona.”

“You dumb shit, if you were cold, I would have made you hot chocolate. I’m nice sometimes you know.”

“I don't mind,” he smirked, “you're hotter anyway.”

“What the heck is wrong with you? I swear to god, you've been flirting with me since that drunk uno shit.”

“It's a Roman thing to kiss under the mistletoe,” he said, pointing to the mistletoe he was carrying.

You both laughed it off, thinking about how ridiculous it sounded. “Roman tradition my ass.”

You and Seungkwan are both in the hospital on New Year's Eve.

“Ah, what a dumb plan you had there,” you exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief.

“Well, I've always wanted to go out of my comfort zone...”

You give him a light smack on the head. “Shut up. Now I'm trapped in a hospital over New Year's because of your dumb plan.”

It's never a good idea to combine Seungkwan with hiking. Sure, he's fit, but when was the last time he went hiking?

“Then have Seokmin hyung or Soonyoung hyung accompany me.”

“They're still at Seokmin's.” You and Seungkwan both arrived at your dorms earlier than anticipated. After all, you didn't want to overstay your welcome; it was your first time. You were worried that Seokmin's mother would think you were too at ease in their home.

“Well, if you want to go home, you can.”

“Who will look after you if I go home?”

For a moment, Seungkwan didn't dare add a sarcastic comment on that question. So, instead, “Come on y/n, don't be so mad...”

“Where are your manners, I'm your noona?”

“three kisses in and I still can't call you by your name?”

You blushed when you remembered all of the times Boo SeungKwan kissed you and how sweet his soft lips were.

“Noona is blushing, wah.”

“I hope your ankle doesn’t heal you little shit.”

Raising his eyebrows at you. "You don't mean that. You love me."

"Of course I do. I love all three of you."

He reached for your hand. "I bet you love me more." There it was again, Seungkwan surprising you with his sudden seriousness. He was staring straight into your eyes, waiting for your response. Luckily, a nurse came in to check his vitals.

 A few minutes after the nurse came out, both of you were ignoring each other due to that sudden tension. To ease the situation, both of you just watched television until you fell asleep.

"Y/n wake up." Nudging you by your shoulders. "We're nearing the countdown. Cmon," and urged you to stand by the window, waiting for the fireworks.

Seungkwan then leaned in to put an earphone in, with a song already playing in the background. You realized it was a song written by Soonyoung's classmate, Woozi, for a songwriting class. You were bopping your head to the music when the ten-second countdown started. 

You and Seungkwan alternately sang along.

10

9

"I promise myself, while drinking a glass of water in the morning, to tell you"

새벽에 물을 마시면서 혼자 다짐해 나는 너에게

8

7

"Beautiful words like the lines in a movie"

영화처럼 달콤하고 예쁜 그 말

6

5

"The words I've prepared overnight for days"

몇 날 며칠 밤새 연습했던 그 말

4

3

"I want to say them to you tomorrow with clenched fists"

내일은 꼭 두 주먹을 꽉 쥐고 말해주고 싶어

2

1

Seungkwan turned to face you just in time for the next line.

"You are pretty." 

너 예쁘다

As soon as the clock struck twelve and the fireworks went off, Seungkwan kissed you. What astonished you was how you knew he was about to kiss you and how you returned the kiss with fervor as he deepened it. You can't help but compare this man to fireworks; how dark it was before him, and how awestruck you were when he came into your life.

Seungkwan was the first to back away, touching his forehead to yours and giggling like a joyful little kid. “Did you know that it’s a Roman tradition to kiss on the first minute of the new year?”

“Blaming the Romans again, I see?” playfully raising your eyebrows at him.

He laughed at that, giving you no excuse. "I love you, Y/n."

You grinned as you silently thank the Romans for their weird traditions.

I absolutely love your writing!! It's so very enjoyable and your au's are absolutely delightful. I just thought you should know.

Thank you so much, Nonnie! AUs are something I really enjoy and to hear that others find them fun makes me so very happy. As a little thank you, here’s another AU feat Kaer Morhen Radio and a Jaskier driving an 18 wheeler.

Life was a lonely one on the road. There were many acquaintances and other drivers Jaskier had a passing friendship with, Valdo Marx had the annoying habit of having similar routes to him - they did say mimicry was the highest form of compliment. Alas, nobody was a steady presence in Jaskier’s life. Well, nobody who was aware of him. Though there was the Kaer Morhen Radio family. They were the closest Jaskier had to everyday friends, as sad as that sounded.

“Good morning fuckheads.” Such a declaration could only mean it was 6am and Lambert had taken over. Instinctively, Jaskier was smiling as he sat up with a yawn. Most radio stations liked to gently rouse listeners with swelling music that got more up beat as the day went on. Not Kaer Morhen Radio. They had Lambert as their morning DJ, there to wake sensitive ears in more and more creative ways. He had become known for his unique way to wake listeners up; from bringing in pots to bang to trying to imitate the mating call of a moose at full volume. The only thing listeners loved more than Lambert being a general prick was his flirtation with Aiden who did weather and traffic announcements.

“And, in those four famous words: and now, the weather,” Lambert announced gleefully. After a long moment of silence, he snickered. “We shall have to give Aiden a moment to climb out from under the desk and rinse his mouth. In the mean time, here’s a banger.”

The banger, Jaskier was surprised to find, was quite literally a recording of someone (possibly Lambert) attempting to play drums (badly) on some kitchen pots. By the time the piece reached its rather boisterous end, it seemed that Aiden was no longer preoccupied.

“The weather today-” Jaskier tuned Aiden’s words out in favour of figuring out whether he was messing around or whether he really did sound so husky and gravelly thanks to having his throat fucked. It was quite the conundrum and Jaskier spent the start of his morning drive wondering how many complaints Lambert and Aiden will get now. Their record was 36 for the game of “identify that noise” wherein they stuck their fingers in various containers and made them squelch. To that day, nobody knew whether the last one really was, in Lambert’s words, “Aiden’s well used hole and my come”.

Afternoons were much more peaceful. Eskel took over at 2pm and he was laid back, played soothing music and gave the impression of being a very calm and reliable member of society. Jaskier always maintained it was an impression because, among all the chat, Eskel would sometimes drop a strange little fact that made him do a double take or two.

“This next song,” Eskel had once said, “was written while under the influence of cocaine.” It was a reasonable enough fact to share, Jaskier had been listening while stuck in a traffic jam along a motorway. “How they managed to write it though, I have no idea. Cocaine is terrible for your focus, I could barely scratch an itch before being distracted by something else. So kudos to the writers for creating a whole song while off their face.”

Which was something Jaskier had never thought Eskel would know anything about. He always seemed to demure, the solid rock of Kaer Morhen Radio. He balanced out Yennefer’s news updates perfectly. It was probably why Jaskier liked him so much, now that he thought of it. The surface innocence mixed in with hints of a very colourful life lived beneath the steady exterior. Well, hints other than the incident where Eskel somehow managed to not turn his microphone off and had a conversation about going to a rave with someone who worked at the radio station. Nobody knew the man’s name and his answers were half muffled but listeners swore they heard him suggest something along the lines of a collar and leash - which Eskel had hummed in agreement to, sounding all too happy. When questioned, Eskel resolutely refused to name the mystery man but conceded that there had been a rave. Jury was out whether Eskel had grumbled about being ‘in ecstasy’ or ‘on ecstasy’ for it. And there was definitely a picture of floating around the internet of him in a collar at what definitely looked like an underground rave.

The real reason Jaskier listened to Kaer Morhen Radio was the late night DJ. 10pm on the dot, Eskel would flick the switch and a prerecorded intro played, announcing that it was Late Late Nights with Geralt. Between 10pm and 6am, Geralt manned the station. The only reason Jaskier knew his name was because of the intro. Otherwise the man was silent other than a few hums between songs. Sometimes, presumably when he knocked something over, there would be a growled “fuck” that listeners lived for.

As little as Geralt said, Jaskier was in love. The music was eclectic and death metal could be followed up by electro swing or grime. There was to way to predict just what Geralt would play next, he didn’t take requests, didn’t talk to his listeners. But, somehow, he still drew them in. Jaskier had made the mistake of looking Geralt up online and swooned a little at the few pictures available. It seemed Geralt was an elusive man, somehow managing to turn away from cameras with an uncanny ability. Though a few pictures did exist of Lambert and Eskel on either side of him, quite literally holding him down for a photo.

Truthfully, Geralt was one of the main reasons Jaskier chose to do overnight hauls. Not only did they pay better, he also had Geralt’s nonverbal grunts and hmms to look forward to. He was well aware that it was an infatuation and nothing more. He’d never met Geralt before, Geralt wasn’t even aware of his existence. So, really, Jaskier could daydream all he wanted but had no intention of doing anything more.

Except, Jaskier couldn’t help but wonder. Geralt had such range in his musical taste, maybe he would like what Jaskier wrote. It was a rare night off and Jaskier was well into the bottle with Valdo when they got talking, egging each other on about who was the better musician. It ended with Jaskier drunkenly posting a CD of his music to Kaer Morhen Radio, addressed for Geralt. When he woke up in the morning, on the floor next to his couch which was occupied by Valdo, Jaskier groaned.

Thankfully, there was never a mention or even a single note of his music in the next week. Slowly, Jaskier relaxed, only a little disappointed that his music hadn’t even been acknowledged by Geralt. He almost had a heart attack when eight days later, Lambert came on air with a mad cackle.

“Morning fuckheads!” Lambert sounded more cheery than ever before. “You’ll never guess what I found. Geralt has been hoarding new music. Good music. Said it was for him. Well, I have decided he cannot hold this back from us. If you’re listening, Jaskier, your note was hilarious. I hope your hangover was worth it. Thanks for the CD!”

There was a growl that sounded like Geralt storming into the booth but the microphone was cut and Jaskier’s song started playing. Jaskier almost crashed his truck in shock. Especially when Lambert declared it so good, they would play it again and, sure enough, the song went back to the beginning to play twice in a row.

If it had just been Lambert, Jaskier would have quietly died of shame, accepting that he was being mocked. But Eskel got in on it too. That afternoon he introduced Jaskier’s song with the promise that management were looking into getting in touch with him about the music. Even worse, a listener even requested the song later that evening. Jaskier was both in heaven and hell at the same time. That night, Geralt didn’t play his song and Jaskier was only a little disappointed.

His phone rang the next day.

“Good afternoon, my name is Vesemir, I’m calling from Kaer Morhen Radio. May I speak to Jaskier?”

Jaskier promptly choked. He got an invitation to the studio. It was a good seven days of driving away and Jaskier searched for a contract that would take him across the continent. While he drove, he got a bit braver and started e-mailing the radio station on his breaks.

His written request for songs were acknowledged by a hum and the song coming on next. When he asked Geralt for a shout out, he got obnoxious pop music playing instead. So Jaskier asked for two hums if Geralt wanted to meet and three if he didn’t. Thus, there was a “fuck” on air and the Beauty and the Beast theme song started playing. It was safe to say Jaskier didn’t understand it but he wasn’t deterred.

By the time Jaskier got into town and made his delivery, it was almost 6am. There was no time he had been specifically invited for and he ended up approaching the building at the same time Lambert showed up with Aiden and three large cups of coffee in hand.

“Excuse me,” he called out, “I’m here to see Vesemir.”

“Bit early for that.”

“He never gave me a time so I figured an early start would be appreciated.” It wasn’t exactly a lie but Jaskier kind of wanted to meet Geralt who would be finishing up soon.

For some bizarre reason, Jaskier was led into the radio studio, no questions asked. Surely it was a security issue but then again, Jaskier checked out Lambert and Aiden, they would no doubt be able to handle any issues. Then there was Geralt, stepping out of the booth, Lambert’s intro queued up. He froze when he spotted Jaskier and, curiously, glanced away, seemingly all shy. The curious response was explained away all too soon. There, on the wall, was Jaskier’s CD and a polaroid of him and Valdo, helpfully labeled “The Talent” with an arrow to Jaskier and “The Fake” pointing at Valdo.

“You here for Vesemir?” Geralt asked eventually, sipping at one of the cups Lambert had brought.

“Amongst other things,” Jaskier replied.

“He won’t be here until 10. Why don’t we go grab breakfast while you wait?”

Aiden wolf whistled at that and Lambert whooped, arms in the air.

“My dear fuckheads,” he purred into the microphone, “we have a date between our local cryptid and our mystery siren. Please wish them luck.”

It turned out that, in person, Geralt was a bit more talkative than on air. And Jaskier helped fill any silence without any problems. He ended up being later than planned to meet Vesemir and Tissaia who had a very handsome cheque for him for playing his music and also his phone number with the promise of passing it on to some connections who had expressed an interest in his music.

Never before had Jaskier thought he would thank Valdo Marx for anything. But, one drinking session with him had landed Jaskier with not only a contract with a record label but also a boyfriend. With his first pay, Jaskier send Valdo the biggest bouquet of flowers humanly possible.

Lonely.

I will forever be salty that LoT doesn’t let Sara explore her grief a bit more, it seems. Anyway, enjoy some angst with a happy ending!

---

Sara put down the make-up brush and stared at herself in the mirror. It wasn’t a lot, but she felt confident in what she did for herself. Lightly, she put on the finishes touches to her lips and was ready for the big event.

In just a few short hours she’d be marrying the love of her life.

But why did her heart feel so heavy? Shouldn’t she be overjoyed that she was marrying Ava? But it only took one quick glance to the photo sitting her in locket to remind her why she felt this way. Laurel and Oliver smiled up at her, their faces alive and happy. Sara picked up the locket, holding it gently in her hand. At least Oliver got to marry the life of his life, Laurel never even got that chance. Both men she loved were tragically ripped away from her, before her own life was as well.

Although Laurel told her it was the right decision, Sara couldn’t help but still feel guilty that she didn’t use the Loom of Fate to bring her back. Why did someone like her get so many chances at life yet her sister didn’t? It was a cruel thing, fate was. Sara would have gladly given one of her several returns to life in exchange for Laurel to be here on her wedding day.

And Oliver too, who would never see his daughter grow old. How was it fair that someone who gave so much and rarely asked for anything in return was not allowed this once in a lifetime opportunity. At least Mia had Felicity, who was one tough cookie. It just felt like some cosmic joke to her. Oliver wasn’t perfect, but he deserved to grow old with his wife and children.

Sara blew a frustrated breath through pursed lips. She needed to stop thinking about this. About them. Today was supposed to be about her happiness, her love. About her and Ava finally retiring from saving the universe and enjoying life. It wasn’t an easy decision for them to make, especially for her. Sara had been fighting since she was teenager. What would the domestic life feel like? Going for walks with having to watch your back? Talking about that silly thing the neighbours did with Ava? Sara honestly couldn’t even picture it in her mind.

There was a knock at her door, startling from her thoughts. Sara put on a brave face and called out, “Come in!”

Nyssa walked into the room with a smile adorning her face. Sara smiled back, but Nyssa was not fooled. She had known Sara for a very long time and knew when she was hiding her feelings. Nyssa closed the door softly before turning to face her former love.

“What is wrong, Beloved?”

Sara smiled softly at the familiar expression. “It’s nothing, really. Just got thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“How much I miss them,” she said, looking down at the locket again.

Nyssa nodded in understanding as she came to sit next to Sara. “I miss them as well. I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

Sara clutched the locket, holding it to her heart. “I wish they could be here to see this. I want to let them know that I only got this far because of their support. Especially Laurel’s…” the tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

“Sara…” Nyssa reached for her hand, squeezing it in comfort. “They may not be here physically, but I know Oliver and your sister. They’re watching from wherever they are currently. They would be so happy for you, so happy that you found the love they wished for you. Do you understand that?”

“I do,” said Sara with a small voice, “but that doesn’t make me miss them any less.”

Nyssa hugged Sara tightly. All she could hope was that Sara could feel her emotions through the hug. That it was okay to grief those you’ve lost, you just cannot let it consume you. Sara hugged back just as tightly, wondering when the emptiness in her heart would finally feel a little more whole.

Another knock at the door broke the pair apart. Ray stuck his head into the room, his smile instantly dropping when he saw Sara. He wasted no time in walking across the floor and scooping the tiny assassin into a bear hug.

“I have no idea what’s upsetting you, Sara, but I’m not going to let it ruin your wedding day,” he said firmly.

“Ray…”

Ray put Sara onto the floor before getting to work straightening out her wedding dress. “Sara, I’ve known you for a very long time. Heck, I think you’re my oldest friend at this point. You were there for me when Nora and I tied the knot. We were there for each other through all the hardships that we’ve face. I would never let you do this alone.” Ray stepped back to make sure there wasn’t a single wrinkle left. With a satisfied nod, Ray placed a gentle hand on Sara’s shoulder.

“You deserve happiness and peace, Sara Lance,” said Ray with watery eyes. “I believe that more than anything else in the world.”

Sara swallowed thickly while blinking out tears. “Thank you…” She fanned at her laugh with a wet laugh. “Oh God, my make-up. Ava is going to freak out if I don’t get a move on things.”

“I believe I can help with that,” said Nyssa with a smirk. She held up the eye make-up with a fire in her eyes. “I am quite good with my hands, after all.”

Sara burst out into laughter while Ray looked pleasantly confused. Together, Ray and Nyssa got Sara ready to walk down the aisle.

XXX

Quentin looked like he was trying his hardest not to cry as he walked his daughter down the aisle. Sara squeezed his arm tightly as they did, trying to keep her raging emotions in check.

“I’m so happy for you, baby,” he said in a choked whisper.

“Thanks, dad.” Sara sniffled slightly. “I’m really happy too.”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek as he left her at the alter. He joined his wife in the front row. Sara took in the crowd. Jax and his wife were here with their kids. Thea and Roy were in the crowd chatting quietly to Dinah. Sara couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when she noticed that Dinah had her pinkie finger linked with Laurel 2.0. That was unexpected. Barry and Iris were sitting next to Kara, Alex, Lena, and Kelly. Ray waved to her, his arm linked with a very happy looking Nora, who was also waving. Mona was seated next to Gary, who was already ugly crying. Nate was on Ray’s right side, and he was beaming up at Sara, Zari holding his free hand. Charlie was with her band, providing the music for the wedding. Amaya came from the past to also watch her former captain and friend tie the knot. She was seated next to the Hawks, which they had been hard to track down, but Kendra had been Sara’s first friend aboard the Waverider, and there was no way she was going to miss this for the world. Nyssa sat with Sin, who was looking so much older than Sara last remembered.

All her friends and family were here, and it was a wonderful sight to see.

Charlie looked up towards the doorway and motioned to her band to start playing the music. Sara’s heart was beating like crazy with anticipation as the doors swung open.

Ava walked out from behind the curtains. Her smile was wide and there were already tears in her eyes as she walked towards Sara. Her dress was nothing fancy, but that’s exactly what suited her best. Mick was walking her down the aisle. They had an unlikely friendship, but Ava had helped Mick with so many things in his life, he felt it only fair to return a favour. There were tears in his eyes as he helped her up the steps. He gave Sara a quick nod before clomping back down to take his seat next to Spooner, who was sitting with Astra and Behrad.

“Alright,” said Diggle with a clearing of his throat. “Sara and Ava both asked that this not be fancy. Sara said to me, ‘I already have enough drama in my life, I don’t need it at my wedding too,’ and I couldn’t agree more.”

This drew laughs from the crowd.

“So, Sara, do you have anything you want to say to Ava?” asked Diggle.

Sara nodded quickly. “Ava, I just want to say that you’ve made me the happiest girl in the world. You just get me, and that is so important. We’ve had our rough patches, but we always got through them together. You’ve been with me through thick and thin. I love you so much that it makes me lie awake at night thinking about it. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” She smiled brightly, ignoring the tears that flowed freely down her face now.

“Ava, do you have anything you want to say to Sara?”

“Yes.” Ava took a deep shaky breath. Sara could feel the tremors in her hands as she spoke. “I hated you the first time I saw you.” Everyone laughed at that, including Sara and Ava. “But you slowly broke down my walls and taught me how to really live. If it wasn’t for you, I probably would still be working for Rip, without ever realizing the person I could have been. You helped me because the best version of me, because that’s what’s being a person is all about. Helping each other grow. I hope that we can continue to do just that, because you’ll be spending every moment with me, and I can’t wait.”

Diggle smiled at the two of them before saying. “Okay, well, go ahead then!”

Sara dipped Ava and gave her the most passionate kiss she could muster. It would take some time, but she was hopeful that Ava would help her fill the hole in her heart. She already had, in some way. Because Sara knew that this right here meant that she was no longer lonely. She would always grieve the death of her Laurel, her wonderful and beautiful sister, and her best friend in Oliver. But she also knew that Ava would always be there for her, every step of the way.

And she was ready to see where that path led.

Everything Comes Back to You

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean can count on one hand the amount of weaknesses he has. Despite his every effort to keep his distance over the years in an effort to keep you safe, he find himself at your door a few too many times. Everything changes when it you who calls him.

Notes: My first supernatural piece! A story told through many years.

September 14, 1996

There were few things you despised more in this world than calculus. The lecture had drug on and on, monotone and continuous, until you felt like you could scream. A miracle of reprieve came when the door opened and in walked a boy who seemed to glide on charisma. He made some kind of offhand joke and flashed a smirk that had half the girls already in his palm.

For you, it was what you saw in his eyes that drew you to him. Something akin to the pieces you kept buried deep within you.

December 22, 1996

You’re sweet, unbelievably so. The way you taste, the way you sound, the way you feel. It’s so easy for Dean to bury himself in you, forget about everything that isn’t in this bed. You had been the solace he didn’t know he had been searching for- offering just a few moments of peace in this life he had no say in.

Most days he believes you may be the light that will save him, other days he believes it unfair to ask such a thing of you.

You nuzzle into his chest and his arms around you tighten. “What are you thinking about?” You ask.

Maybe it’s how tired he is, running between the motel to check on Sammy and darting straight back to the comforts of this bedroom that has him feeling so unnaturally mushy. You’d say it’s the Christmas spirit looming in the air, threatening to infect him with just a bit of joy.

You did love Christmas, and he loved you.

But love was not something he was allowed in this life - stability never something he’d known. Dean knew the drill all too well. The moment he allows himself to plant any semblance of roots, it’ll be time to load the Impala and disappear. Kansas may have been home once, but it isn’t home now.

Still, he couldn’t help himself when it came to you.

Sometimes his mind wonders to what his life could be if he were to just ask you to run away with him. Leave this little town and never look back. No more hunting, no more fighting, just wonderful, uncomplicated, boring life. Life with you.

He’s never met a hunter that’s successfully left the life, though. The longer you knew him, the higher the chances got for you to get caught in the crossfire and he’d never forgive himself if something were to happen to you.

You’re silently watching him, waiting for a response to a question he had already forgotten.

“I should go check on Sam.”

April 18, 2002

“You gave my address to who? Mom, just because someone says they knew me doesn’t mean you should tell them where I live! It doesn’t matter if he seemed like a ‘wonderful young man’ you know there are things out there.” You’re pacing in your living room now, tempted to grab your shotgun.

“Oh, Y/N, stop it with that nonsense. He had a photo of you and now he’s on his way.” Your mother dismisses you.

You groan and toss your head back. “Well hopefully you can describe what he looked like to the cops when they find me-“

Then a car pulls up, engine roaring and rock music blasting. You knew that car, you knew it well. Sneaking up to the window, you take a peek around the curtains and see the sleek black Impala. A man gets out, the leather jacket he’s wearing tickles a memory long buried.

It isn’t until you see his face that it settles in- butterflies swimming in deep rooted anger. The boy who left you with nothing but an aching hole and a postcard with no return address was all grown up and damn if he didn’t look good.

“Gotta go.” You hang up the phone.

When he knocks, you brace yourself- scrounge up all the will-power you have so you can kick him out. There will be no apologies or pleasantries. No sir. None. Not one.

But Dean’s always been one step ahead of you, so, he’s quick to start when you open the door- death glare only momentarily stalling him. “Listen, I know-“

“Get back in your car and go home.”

“Just hear me out for a minute.” He pleads.

You want to tell him to go, you really do, but one glance at those green eyes and every fiber of your being is pleading for you to just wait. Call it hope, call it weakness, call it a desperate need for some form of closure, you let him in.

Narrowing your eyes, you ask him, “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

You hate how that almost settles your anger, how after all these years he still had some ridiculous hold on you. “How can you possibly believe I would want to see you after what you did? That kind of hurt doesn’t just disappear, Dean.”

“I know, I know. I’m also here to apologize. I should have said more-“

“More?” You interrupt exasperated. “Please tell me you did not come all this way to ask me to absolve you of your guilt.”

“That’s not-“

“Because you showed up on my doorstep, asked me to pack a bag and run away with you- leave my life and everything I’ve ever known to go who knows where with you. And then, when the sun rose in the morning, you were gone.”

“You hadn’t exactly been happy with me.” He tries to defend himself.

“Yeah, but you know what I did that night? I packed a stupid bag and waited for hours in front of that stupid diner. Waiting and waiting, but you never showed! You just left me! Know what I got out of it? A postcard from Topeka with a half assed ‘I’m sorry’ written on it.”

He falters under your gaze. “Y/N, I am sorry. I really am.”

“I just want to know why, Dean.” Your voice falls and he can no longer meet your eyes. “Come on, there are a million excuses. You couldn’t leave Sam, you couldn’t leave you dad, you didn’t actually love me. Just pick one so I can move on.”

“I did love you.” He bites back.

“Then what, you couldn’t leave the life?”

His eyebrows furrow as he takes a step closer and lowers his voice. “What do you mean?”

You sigh. “I was young but I wasn’t stupid. The family business wasn’t sales, Dean.” His eyes widen. “People started disappearing right before you and your family showed up. They stop disappearing and then all of a sudden, you’re gone. I had my suspicions, but it wasn’t until I met another hunter a few years later that I knew for sure.”

He makes his way into your living room and you want to ask what gave him the idea that you wanted him in your home.

“If you know about that side of this world, then how can you blame me for wanting to protect you from it?”

Of all of the reasons you had come up with as to why the boy you thought was the love of your life had left you high and dry, this wasn’t one. Had he truly loved you? Had he weighed his heart and your life to determine which he valued most? You can’t tell if that idea hurt more than the rest.

“Who were you to make that decision for me?”

“Who are you to expect me not to have?”

It’s quiet, uncomfortably so. Dean rakes his fingers through his hair and your arms tighten across your chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. None of it. He wasn’t supposed to have left you destroyed, calling out for him in the middle of the night. You were supposed to have moved on, supposed to have said goodbye to the boy with so much sadness in his eyes and so much love in his heart.

You never really do forget your first, though, do you?

He sighs, drawing your attention back to him, and pulls his gaze from the ceiling. “This isn’t what I came for.”

You tighten your arms across your chest and take a step closer, then another. “Do enlighten me, then. What are you really here for?” You’re dangerously close now, a breath away and Dean can barely think. “What is it you want?”

You look up at him and in a second he’s gone, just like that first day. It’s nostalgic and painful and warm all at once. How was it you still had this power over him?

“You.” He breathes out.

October 14, 2006

“Hey, uh, Fairmont? That’s close to Eudora, right?” Dean asks, trying so hard to seem casual.

Sam peaks around the bathroom door, noticing his brother has been ‘cleaning’ the same weapon for the last thirty minutes, and raises a brow. “Yeah, not too far.” Dean just hums. “What’s in Eudora?”

“Huh? Oh nothing, just thought a detour would be nice with everything going on.”

Sam spits his toothpaste into the sink. “Didn’t we spend a Christmas there?”

Dean stalls. “Well, you know, we moved around so much it’s hard to tell when we were anywhere, really. I couldn’t-“

“No, no, I’m sure we did. I had that English teacher that snored through Shakespeare.”

“Your memory is definitely better than mine, I couldn’t tell you much about-“

“And there was that girl, gosh, what was her name again?” Sam prompts his brother, already knowing the answer.

“There’s been so many girls, Sam, can’t expect me to remember all of their names.” Dean chuckles nervously.

The flop sweat on Dean’s forehead is almost reward enough, but hearing him sputter and flail was just too good for Sam to give up.

“She had the hair and the mom, liked Christmas.” Dean stutters again. “Oh right! Y/N! Aka the girl who’s name you say in your sleep on a weekly basis.” Now he’s red. “How long has it been man? If you could’ve made it work, you would’ve. What’d she say when you saw her last?”

Suddenly the floor is very interesting to Dean. “That I can’t keep coming in and out of her life.”

“That’s all the closure you’re going to get, Dean, take it.”

October 18, 2006

Work had been the worst. The only thing you wanted was a bubble bath and a huge glass of wine. The last thing you expected when you finally reached your driveway was Dean Winchester sitting on your porch, but of course, with the cluster fuck of today, this might as well happen.

You take a moment to collect yourself before stepping out of your car.

“Heard you took down a Rougarou in Tennessee. Thought you said you didn’t want a part of this life.” He raises a brow and you can’t tell if it’s an accusation or an ‘I told you so’ moment.

“Was there for business, it was just good timing. Guess you were right, though, can’t just sit by.” You shrug. He looks like he’s waiting for something, something you’re sure you can’t give him. “What are you doing here?” You ask, sounding more tired than upset.

“I know, I’m sorry. But we had a case nearby and Sammy told me no, but next thing I know I’m in my car and then I’m here. Really, it’s your fault. Should’ve moved.”

You snort. “And you wouldn’t have found me?” He only shrugs. “What is it you want, Dean?”

“A friend?”

“You drove all the way out here for a friend?”

“Guess you could say I’m in short supply.”

You look him up and down, noticing the bags beneath his eyes and something in you aches for him. Of course, you had heard about the passing of John, that may be the very reason he’s here, but knowing Dean, it’s not a subject he wants to touch.

Ten years later and you can still read him.

“Fine, but don’t ask me to run away with you.” You tease. “Twice is enough for this lifetime.”

June 16, 2013

Dean is in the middle of another argument with Sam trying to defend the importance of bacon when his phone rings. Sam’s dramatic sigh of relief earns an eye roll from his brother.

“Dean Winchester.” He answers, but he can’t hear anything on the other end. “Hello?” He tries again and this time he makes out heavy breathing. “Who is this?”

“Dean.” His name barely slips from your lips and to his ears before you groan.

He leans forward quick enough to earn concern from Sam. “Where are you?”

“Sound stressed.” You chuckle before sputtering.

“Y/N, tell me where are you.” His voice is the kind of calm that would usually send ice through your veins, but right now you were struggling just to keep your eyes open.

“Not sure.” Your speech is slurred and the panic Sam sees in his brother’s eyes drives his fingers faster as he works on a trace.

“How bad is it?”

“You should see the other guy.”

“Dammit, Y/N, not the time. Where are you hurt?”

“Broken ribs, I think. This gash in my side seems a little alarming.” You squint down at it trying to determine if your blurry vision was a result of the gapping wound or the nice blow to the head you took. “Objectively, all very bad.” You mumble.

Dean is over Sam’s shoulder now and if he hadn’t looked as terrified as he did right now, Sam would be making a less than funny comment about it.

“Were you on a hunt?” His voice is still cool, but he begins to waiver when he has to strain to hear your confirmation. “Is it still after you?” He has to press the question two more times before he gets a response, by then he’s already started the Impala.

“Finished him ‘for he finished me.”

“Y/N, were on our way.” Dean grits out. “You just hold on a little longer and we’ll get you all patched up.”

You barely manage to hum response before everything begins to fade out, Dean yelling your name in the background.

June 17, 2013

They had only barely made it in time. Dean had come sliding to your side, bandages already in hand. He spoke softly to you, a drastic contradiction to the frantic shake of his hands.

Sam had never seen his brother like this before.

“Dean, I don’t think…”

“No! Just,” Dean tossed the keys to Sam and slipped his arms beneath your limp body. “Get us to the nearest hospital.”

He sat in the back seat with you holding as much pressure against the flaps of skin as he could, still talking so softly to you. Sam’s heart ached as he heard his brother beg you not to leave him and make promises they both know he can’t keep.

When he could no longer feel you breathing, his eyes shot up to the review mirror and Sam slammed on the gas.

Squealing into the ambulance drop off, Sam began to yell for help as he pulled open the back seat door. Dean was frozen, all of the color drained from his face.

Emotion cut off from his voice, he had barely managed a whisper. “I think she’s gone.”

From there, he had spent the last six hours trying to force himself to come to terms with the fact that he had lost one of the only good things in his life. Sitting there in some criminally uncomfortable waiting room chair with his head in his hands.

All he could see was you. You twirling around in a bright sundress with the Kansas sunset kissing your skin. Your eyes closed- lips parted slightly as you slept soundly. You angry, red in the face accusing him of using you as some kind of sick tie to a simpler time.

Was that all she was to him? No, he shakes his head at just the thought of it. To him you were the only thing that made sense. A singular constant that he felt like his whole being revolved around.

But he had never told you.

Finally, by 5am he had almost convinced himself that he would be fine.

So, when the doctor comes out with blood speckling the bottom of his scrubs, he wants to shut down, but he needs to know.

“Just give it to us straight, doc.”

“She’s alive.” He says. “The surgery was tough and she gave us quite a scare, but she is alive.”

His knees almost give out from beneath him.

June 20, 2013

Everything hurts. Your side, your chest, your head, your skin. The gentle breeze from the vent above you is what pulls you out of the darkness. The harsh fluorescent lights are almost enough to send you right back to the comfort of the dark, but a shifting pressure at your thigh piques your interest.

Slowly, trying not to groan despite every muscle in your body screaming, you look to your left. Dean’s arm is draped lightly across the tops of your thighs, his hand curling in at your hip. For a moment you do nothing but watch him sleep, his eyes fluttering behind his eyelids every so often.

He looks like shit.

Dark, sunken bags have built up beneath his eyes and it looks like he hasn’t shaved in days. A part of you feels flattered imagining the fuss he had to have made to not only get you here, but to stay here himself.

Without thinking, you begin to move your hand to caress his cheek. Your fingers trace the lines of his now furrowed brow before you thread them through his hair. The movement hurts, but it’s worth it.

Especially when you’re rewarded with a lovely green as his eyes slowly open. For a moment you think there may be no yelling or ‘are you out of your mind’ speeches when a smile begins to slowly light up his face. And then, as if he’s suddenly remembered what has happened, his smile shuts down into a scowl.

“You almost died.” He hisses lowly.

“Almost.” You echo and try to cough out a laugh, but it devolves into a groan. His alarm doesn’t disappear when you try to wave him off. “I’m fine now, so why don’t you go shower or something? You smell.”

“So you can try to slip out?” He narrows his eyes at you. “Not happening.”

“You’re usually the one that slips out.” You mutter, but he doesn’t hear you. “You can’t kidnap me, Dean.”

“The hell I can’t.”

June 23, 2013

“Bedroom here, bathroom down there. Sam and I are here… and here.” Dean’s pointing to doors as you struggle to hobble behind him on his tour of the bunker. When he stops, you almost run into his back. “Sammy went to grab some stuff from your house, but it looks like you don’t live there anymore.” He only raises a brow when you advert your gaze.

Instead of responding, you turn around to point at a door a couple down. “Mine? Sounds good.” You scurry as quickly as you can into the room, but Dean catches the edge of the door before you can shut it.

“You’re not going to explain yourself?”

You laugh bitterly. “Explain myself? Are you kidding me? I don’t answer to you, Dean.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You want to turn away from him, but he’s holding your gaze too intensely. “What’s going on with you? You’re living out of cheap hotels and hunting on your own now?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”

“Y/N, cut the shit. It’s just you and me here. Have you even told your mom what happened?”

And it’s this comment, this sincere question that takes the final piece of your resistance from him. He watches as the tense set of your shoulders fall and your face relaxes. The malice and resentment slips from your features and it’s a relief.

“She’s dead.” You barely manage to whisper. “Vetala. Didn’t know they worked in pairs. Her husband found her tied up in the kitchen three years ago.”

He’s stunned. It’s probably the only thing you could have said that would steal his fire in an instant. He knew that kind of pain, that kind of drive. He knew it too well. You sniffle before quickly wiping your eyes and his face falls imagining the pain you’re feeling.

To his surprise, the moment is gone as quick as it started when he watches you swallow down your emotions and rebuild that wall in almost an instant.

“Don’t worry, I know you’re not one to be domestic. I’ll be out of your hair the second the doctors clear me.”

It stings. “Just like that?” He asks, not caring this time if you hear the hurt in his voice.

“Why would I stay? You make it clear what you want each time you stop by my house for a quicky and then slip out without a word.” The stunned look on his face is infuriating. “I get it, Dean. It’s convenience and consistency. Not love.”

“Not love?” He repeats your judgement, rolling the word around his tongue and he has to admit he hates the taste. He repeats it again, louder this time and it startles you. “Y/N I gave up everything I ever wanted that night I left you at the diner because I love you. I have tried and tried to stay as far away from you to keep you safe because I love you. I show up on your doorstep in moments of selfish cowardice because I can’t stay away! Almost my whole life I have been drawn to you time and time again and I know it hurts you. It kills me to hurt you, but I can’t stop because I love you.”

Dean’s chest is heaving, his breath falling across your face with how close he is to you now. “You love me.” He has to strain to hear you, but you need the clarification. Love or loved?

“When I saw you laying on the ground, bleeding out, I wished it was me instead. But when I held you in my arms and you…” His voice breaks and his eyes water. “And you stopped breathing…”

Before you know what you’re doing, you have your hands cradling either side of his facing, soothingly hushing him.

“Dean.” You murmur. “I’m okay, you saved me.”

“Stay.” The word bursts through his lips without his control. “Please, just stay.”

A single tear falls from your eyes as you nod knowing that the idea of a place called home had changed over the years, but this, him- he had always remained.

By Your Side - Chapter 1/3

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, No Game Spoilers, Coming Out, Other Tags To Be Added

Summary: The epilogue of Aid, in which Soda finally comes out to those around him, and accomplishes a goal he's had ever since that fateful day in the beach house.

Chapter: 1, 2

Read on Ao3

This Chapter: Soda remembers some important moments with his friends while enjoying a morning with the love of his life.

_____________________

Soda woke to the faint sound of a hamster wheel and squinted at the bright sunlight filtering through the window. He groaned and stretched out his arms while rolling onto his back to take in the beautiful sight behind him. A soft smile found its way to his lips.

Gundham was sleeping soundly, hair messy and face peaceful as he breathed deeply.

Soda couldn’t resist, he rolled to his side and pulled his boyfriend to his chest, just because he could. Gundham grunted, but shifted closer in his sleep. Soda pressed his face into his hair and smiled.

He would never get tired of waking up like this.

It had been eight months since the end of their beach vacation, and so much had changed. It had been a little stressful at times, but, despite that, Soda could definitely say he’d never been happier.

He felt more content and more loved than he ever had before, and he felt free now to just be himself.

–

Coming out to their friends had been… weird. It wasn’t some big dramatic event the way Soda had pictured it in his head, hell, it wasn’t even an event, more of a series several quick conversations and supportive gestures spread out over a couple weeks.

Hajime was the first to know, obviously, and Nagito had been included in that conversation because it just made sense.

It happened the day after Soda had finally stopped being such a dumbass and actually managed to tell Gundham how he felt. Hajime had raised an eyebrow at him over breakfast, glancing meaningfully between him and Gundham, and Soda responded by asking if he and Nagito wanted to hang out in his cabin later. Nagito had made a remark about how rare it was for Soda to want to spend time with him, but Hajime had cut him off before he could ask for a reason and agreed for the both of them.

Gundham said nothing, but placed a hand on Soda’s knee below the table and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Later, once the four of them had entered Soda’s cabin, Hajime took Nagito’s hand in his, confirming what Soda had already known. Despite knowing no one in the room would have a problem with it, Soda had still felt embarrassed when he reached out to take Gundham’s hand in his own.

There had been a few moments of silence, before Nagito broke it.

“Ah, so that was what we heard yesterday, Hajime. You’re so perceptive.”

Soda’s face drained of color and Gundham blushed deeply.

“W-what do you-” He looked at Hajime, who was covering his mouth and trying not to laugh. “You heard?”

“Unfortunately.” Hajime tried to look upset, but his laughter won out, and pretty soon he was grinning broadly at Soda. “Happy for you, dude, even if I am gonna need so much therapy to get the sounds of your boning out of my head.”

“Fuck you, man.”

“I don’t think Gundham would appreciate that.”

After the laughter died down, they had spent a good part of the morning just hanging out in Soda’s cabin. Sure, the experience had been mortifying, but not for any of the reasons Soda had previously worried it might be.

No shouting, no violence, and no lost friendships.

Once his embarrassment passed, he just felt happy and relieved. He relaxed into Gundham’s side and made as many jokes at Hajime’s expense as he could while his soul friend did the same to him.

It had been so easy. It had felt so good.

Soda and Gundham were careful to be a little quieter at night for the rest of the trip.

–

Gundham began to shift in his arms, burying his head into Soda’s chest in an attempt to convince his body to remain asleep.

Soda held him a little tighter and pressed a kiss to his brow, not quite ready to start their morning either.

–

Sonia was the only other person they had told before the trip ended.

It hadn’t been on purpose, they had agreed to wait until they were home to tell the rest of their friends to avoid creating unnecessary tension on their vacation.

Or maybe Soda just wasn’t ready to be out yet, and Gundham had just gone along with that story so Soda wouldn’t feel pressured.

Either way.

It was a few days after telling Hajime and Nagito, and they had been having tea with Sonia out on the patio of the hotel’s restaurant. Gundham had suggested the three of them start spending time together as a way for Soda and Sonia to build a better relationship, and afternoon tea had quickly become a regular thing for the three of them.

Soda and Sonia really had been getting along better. They only really hung out together in groups, but most of the weird tension between them had been lifted.

That day, the topic had somehow shifted to space, and Soda couldn’t help but mention his dream of building a rocket ship. He was surprised when Sonia had been interested, and elated when she had started prodding him for more information. Before he knew it, he was rambling away about all his different ideas and dreams for the rocket he hoped he could one day build, and was hardly even paying any attention to Sonia and Gundham anymore.

Sonia, however, was paying attention. She had seen the way Gundham’s face softened as he watched Soda speak so openly about his dreams, noticed the way he shifted and slid a little closer to Soda when he ‘secretly’ pressed their knees together below the table. Noticed the way his eyes had drifted to Soda’s lips as he spoke.

She apparently hadn’t planned on saying anything.

But then Soda stopped talking, and Gundham, lost in how much he loved to see Soda happy and excited, had leaned in and gently kissed him. Soda kissed back, just for a second, before they both remembered Sonia was right there. They froze and turned to Sonia, who had gracefully hidden her surprise by sipping her tea and averting her eyes.

She had looked down at her cup for a moment before looking back up to them and smiling.

“I did not realize you two had become a couple.” Her smile widened, and both of the boys relaxed a little. “Congratulations are in order! We should organize a party to officialise your courtship!”

“Ah, Miss Sonia, that’s kinda…” Soda had panicked a little, he really hadn’t been ready for everyone to know yet.

Gundham had just gently placed a hand over one of Soda’s own and smiled at him.

“That is a most gracious thought, dark queen, but my consort and I are trying to be… discreet about our new bond.”

“Oh! I apologize! If that is the case, then I understand. I will be most inconspicuous about this matter, no one will suspect a thing!”

Soda was glad Sonia understood, but he was a little worried about her ability to keep things “inconspicuous”…

To his surprise, though, she had no trouble acting as if she didn’t know they were dating around their other friends, staying true to her word and never giving anyone any reason to suspect they were a couple.

She even covered for them when they had not so subtly shown up late for breakfast one morning, clothes rumpled and faces a little flushed, by asking if they “had managed to recapture the dark beast they had been chasing” before anyone could get any less innocent ideas.

Soda was once again surprised by how easy coming out had been, and how well it had gone.

Once again relieved that he didn’t have to choose between being himself and being happy.

–

Gundham heaved a sigh against Soda’s chest and groggily drew himself back. Soda leaned in to kiss him.

“Mmm. Good morning, my consort.”

Soda smiled as he moved back to look at his sleepy boyfriend.

“Morning babe.”

They kissed again, only to be interrupted as one of the Devas squeaked loudly, apparently realizing they were both awake and thus demanding to be fed. Soda groaned in protest as Gundham slowly got out of bed to feed his hamsters.

–

Fuyuhiko had been the next to know they were dating, as well as the last of their classmates that Soda had to tell directly.

Soda and Fuyuhiko had been eating lunch together at a cafe, just the two of them, when Gundham texted him. He had sent a photo of himself with the puppies his mother’s dog had given birth to that weekend, and Soda couldn’t help but smile goofily at it.

“The fuck you smiling at?”

Soda just smiled wider and turned his phone to show Fuyuhiko the picture.

Fuyuhiko glanced at it and rolled his eyes. He had been getting pretty sick of watching Soda fawn over Gundham when he thought no one was looking.

“So when’re you gonna stop being such a pussy and ask him out?”

Fuyuhiko smirked and watched as Soda blushed and stuttered, feeling smug until-

“Um… like a couple weeks ago?”

There was a long silence.

“The fuck?”

Fuyuhiko had looked so pissed that Soda had actually considered running.

“And what? You just weren’t gonna fuckin’ tell me?”

“I, uh-”

“Thought you could just keep that shit a secret forever?”

“N-no, I just, um…”

“You what?”

“I was… look dude, I was just kinda scared to tell you, alright?”

Fuyuhiko had sat back in his chair after that, still looking pissed as hell, but there was something else in his expression as well. Eventually he sighed.

“You were… scared? Did you think I was gonna beat you up or some shit?”

“I mean-”

“Fuck you man. Thought we were close, you should know I’d never fucking hurt someone over dumb shit like that…”

Soda had been surprised by how upset Fuyuhiko had sounded. He really had been worried Fuyuhiko would hit him, not because he actually thought he was the kind of guy to get violent over who someone dates, but because his stupid brain wouldn’t let him not worry.

They had a long conversation after that. Soda did his best to explain to Fuyuhiko how his shitty brain worked and that he didn’t actually think he was a bad guy, while Fuyuhiko did his best to pretend like he wasn’t hurt by the fact Soda had been so hesitant to tell him about him and Gundham. By the end of it they were both feeling a little more awkward and a lot more vulnerable than they were used to around each other, but looking back, Soda was glad it had all gone the way it did. It had strengthened their friendship in the long run.

They ended up parting ways once they finished eating, but not before Fuyuhiko ad asked Soda if he wanted to hang out later that night. Soda had told him he couldn’t because he was going to help Gundham with the puppies, and Fuyuhiko had just rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be fucking helping him all right. Just make sure you put the dogs in another room, they don’t need to see that shit.” He smirked at Soda’s blushing face and turned to leave with a wave.

Despite the embarrassment, Soda had been relieved that Fuyuhiko was back to being his snarky self. Maybe it hadn’t been the smoothest of way to come out, but overall, it had still gone pretty well.

Later that night, Soda was sure to lock the puppies out of Gundham’s room, just for Fuyuhiko.

–

Soda watched as Gundham fed the Devas, making sure to give them all a few gentle pets as he did, mumbling away about keeping up their power levels and checking them for any signs of “evil spirits”. As Soda watched, he couldn’t help but let his gaze wander lower.

Gundham rarely wore anything to bed, especially when Soda was over, so his ass was on full display for Soda’s wandering eyes. He chuckled sleepily to himself when he found the still healing bite mark on one of Gundham’s cheeks.

Maybe not the best decision he had ever made, but Gundham had seemed into it, so no harm no foul, right?

When he finally stopped staring at Gundham’s ass and let his eyes wander back up, he noticed he’d been caught. Gundham smiled coyly at him.

“Were you not satisfied by last nights activities, dearest paramour?” Gundham carefully closed the Devas’ cage before turning and slowly climbing back onto the bed. Soda took his time responding, letting his eyes travel up and down the front of Gundham’s body as he straddled his lap.

“Hmm. I’d say it’s less ‘not satisfied’ and more ‘looking for a repeat.’” He smiled as he slowly sat up and brought his hands to Gundham’s hips, before leaning in to kiss him.

It was so easy now. So easy to just let himself be with Gundham, to kiss him whenever he felt like it, to tell him how he felt, tell him what he wanted.

He wished he hadn’t been such a coward on their vacation, wished he had just confessed right away and spared them both a lot of pain.

Wished he had known how easy it could be, how right it would feel.

_

After Soda told Fuyuhiko about their relationship, they had agreed to stop trying to hide it from their friends. It was slow going at first though, as neither of them were entirely comfortable with public displays of affection.

Soda was pretty sure Chiaki had been the first to notice. They were all at Ibuki’s house drinking, and Soda had been feeling a little jealous while watching Hajime and Nagito cuddle on the couch. He had grabbed Gundham’s hand and tried to act casual about it. If they had been sober, everyone in the room likely would have noticed they way both his and Gundham’s faces suddenly flushed, but, as it was, only Chiaki seemed to notice.

She had looked up from the game she was playing at just the right moment and happened to glance at their intertwined fingers. She had just looked up at Soda’s face, smiled, and returning to her game.

That had been it.

When Chiaki had found Soda looking for snacks in the kitchen later and they started chatting, she referred to Gundham as his boyfriend without even hesitating. Soda had to wonder if maybe Hajime had accidentally told her they were dating before hand. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around how well things were going.

He wasn’t really sure if anyone else had noticed that night.

Ibuki had definitely figured it out the next morning when she found them cuddled up half naked in her guest room, though. Soda’s hungover brain had processed the volume of her voice before the words, and he had just tried to muffle the sound by burying his face into Gundham’s chest.

Then a second later he realized she was yelling “You two better not have fucked in Ibuki’s guest bed!” loud enough for anyone else in the house to hear.

He jumped out of bed and managed to get her to quiet down by assuring her they didn’t fuck.

He didn’t mention that it was only because neither of them had thought to bring lube, or that they had absolutely blown each other in her guest bed, but really, she didn’t need the details, and they still technically didn’t fuck, so it was fine, right?

She had been happy enough with his answer and left the room, closing the door behind her. A few seconds later he got a text from Teruteru asking who exactly he had fucked in Ibuki’s guest bed. He was too tired to deal with him at that exact moment, so he just responded with a hamster emoji before climbing back into bed and snuggling up to a half awake Gundham.

They slept off their hangovers for a few more hours, and when Soda woke up he had a phone filled with texts from Teruteru. In the first message he congratulated Soda and wished him happiness in his relationship. It was actually pretty heartfelt and sappy, but the effect was immediately ruined by the next twelve messages where he asked for details on exactly what they had gotten up to the previous night, then made several animal-based sex jokes.

He had also received a single thumbs-up emoji from Byakuya. Somehow it was equally mortifying.

Soda was embarrassed to learn a few of their other friends had stayed the night as well, and almost certainly heard Ibuki yelling, but no one else said anything.

Hiyoko had definitely tried to say something when she caught Soda and Gundham leaving the guest room together, but Mahiru had been there to shush her before she could get out more than a teasing “Oh?”

Soda hoped the look on his face had told Mahiru exactly how grateful he was to her.

After that, he wasn’t really sure who told who, but it seemed like all their friends were aware they were dating.

And not a single one had and issue with it.

Soda couldn’t believe it. He spent so long worrying about how other people would react, and then they just… accepted it, accepted him, without so much as a disapproving look.

He might have cried about it one night after he realized it, but that wasn’t something he was ever going to admit to.

Coming out had been so easy, so freeing.

If only it had stayed that easy.

_

He looked down at Gundham as they both caught their breaths. He seemed so content laying on Soda’s chest that he almost didn’t want to move him, but he was heavy and Soda’s legs were falling asleep. Soda carefully rolled onto his side as Gundham let out a sigh.

He was surprise when Gundham just readjusted and cuddled closer instead of getting up. He was usually very strict about waking up early to take care of all his other animals.

Soda wasn’t about to complain though. He loved the mornings where Gundham decided to spend just a little more time in bed, and he was going to cherish it.

He pressed a kiss to Gundham’s slightly sweaty forehead.

He was going to cherish every second they had together.

Next Chapter

Full of Surprises

a Matthew Tkachuk one-shot

a/n: I rewatched the Tkachuk family Spittin Chiclets interview this morning from the All-Star game in St. Louis and it got me in my Matty feelings. Here’s a proposal story full of fun surprises. Enjoy!

warnings: just swearing — otherwise, total and complete fluff

_____

“Do they know?” I whispered, one arm entwined with one of Matthew’s as both of us stared at the glimmering ring on my left hand.

“Does who know?” Matthew asked in a matching whisper, ducking his head in front of my face. I knew just what he was after — I placed a kiss on the top part of his ear, his favorite, and allowed my tongue to dart out just slightly, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Does your family know?” I clarified as he sat up straight, smirking at me.

We were flying first class, headed to the Tkachuks’ summer home in Cape Cod. I knew that his parents and both of his siblings would be there, but had no concept of how many of them, if any, knew of the engagement that had begun only about eight hours beforehand, on the beach in Bimini.

What I had seen simply as a much-needed getaway from Matthew’s rigid summer workout schedule and from my own bustling days as a graphic designer had quickly turned into the official start of a lifetime together, complete with a Bahamian backdrop.

Matthew shook his head. “No, they have no idea,” he informed me as he pressed a kiss to my temple. I nuzzled my head against his bicep and let my eyes flutter closed, partially in bliss and partially because Matthew and I had gotten maybe two hours of sleep total since the moment he proposed, what with all the celebrating the two of us had done in our hotel room.

I was suddenly so anxious to share our news with our loved ones, starting with Matthew’s family. I smiled at the thought of rehashing the story for any and all who wanted to hear it.

_____

“Matty...” I whispered, tears swiftly filling my eyes and an enormous lump sneaking into my throat.

Matthew had suggested a walk on the beach following our final dinner at the Bimini resort, where we had we spent the evening holding hands over a candlelit table on a private balcony of one of the resort’s fabulous restaurants. After we finished our seafood dinner entrees, he had fed me my half of a delectable piece of chocolate cake as we laughed together behind glasses of red wine.

Little did I know that the sweetest treat was about to come.

Here he was, kneeling in the sand before me, holding a black velvet box, propped open to display the most gorgeous oval-cut diamond ring I’d ever laid eyes on.

“Matty,” I repeated, this time aloud, as I found my voice again. I took a cautious step toward him and wrapped my hands around his outstretched wrist.

“Taylor... baby?” Matthew prompted, his voice strained, shaky. I suddenly realized that the man in front of me had just poured out his soul to me — promising forever, promising a home together, promising a shared legacy of love, joy, and children. And I had yet to give him the answer he was seeking, or any answer at all. His question hung in the ocean air — time stood still.

“Yes! Oh, yes, Matty, yes! Of course!” I choked out, both of us suddenly overcome with nervous and relieved giggles. He sprung to his feet to kiss me, taking my face in his hands and giving me a firm, lingering kiss.

“Can I put the ring on you now?” Matthew asked when he finally pried his lips away from mine. It was then that reality hit and the tears started to flow.

“Yes! Yes, baby.” I held out a shaking left hand to him, which he stroked with his thumb and kissed sweetly before pulling the ring from the box and slipping it onto my finger.

“Oh, my god, it fits perfectly! It’s so beautiful, Matthew!” I exclaimed, gasping at how truly remarkable it looked on my hand. I had imagined what this moment would be like for so many years, ever since I was a young girl with blue glasses in Mrs. Kingsley’s first grade class at McKinley Elementary, watching Matthew play tag from across the playground. The gravity of this moment overwhelmed me and exceeded my every long-held expectation.

The tears continued as I held my hand up to Matthew, showing off my newest accessory. He grinned widely.

“Stay right there, baby,” he instructed, fumbling for his phone in his shorts pocket. “I wanna remember this.” He eventually retrieved the device from his pocket and snapped a quick photo of the momentous occasion before putting his phone away once more. He pulled me in close, our chests flush against each other, hearts racing, and we shared dozens more kisses and laughs there on the shore, both realizing that our forever started tonight.

_____

“Are you happy?” Matthew whispered. My eyes opened and I turned my face up toward his.

“Am I happy?” I asked with an incredulous scoff. “Baby, I’m the happiest,” I reassured. “You make me the happiest.” I sat up further in my plane seat and kissed his cheek, and he smiled down lazily at me. “Good. That’s all that matters to me,” he said.

“Are you happy?” I countered.

He waited a beat, looking deeply into my hazel eyes. “The happiest. The luckiest,” he whispered, stroking my chin with his thumb. I kissed the digit as we stared at each other in content, peaceful silence.

_____

An hour later, our flight landed at Boston Logan Airport. Matthew picked up our suitcases from baggage claim, and we were off to join the Tkachuks at the Cape.

I placed my aviators on my nose as I walked through the automatic doors at the airport’s exit, my newly dubbed fiancé just a step behind me.

“Where’s the car?” I asked over my shoulder, knowing that Matt had arranged for his usual car service to pick us up and haul us to the vacation home.

“Oh, uh... right there.” Matthew threw his head casually in the direction of a black stretch limousine further down the pickup lane. My jaw went slack.

“Matty...” I whispered, peering at him over my sunglasses. “You never get a limo!” He threw his head back in an easy laugh. “Well, I never get engaged, either! Until now,” he remarked. He kissed my cheek and patted my ass lightly with the closed hand that also held his duffle.

“Now, come on, my bride-to-be,” he encouraged. “We’ve got places to be.” I shook my head in disbelief as he sauntered toward the limousine.

_____

Just over an hour later, Matthew and I were pulling into the driveway of the beautiful summer home his family had owned for years. My heart flooded with anticipation. I could not wait for us both to go bounding into the house with our big announcement and be surrounded by loved ones.

“Should I wear my ring? Or should I try and hide it somehow?” I asked quickly, turning toward Matthew as I finished applying some lip gloss, the last step of freshening up my appearance after a long flight.

“You can do whatever you wanna do, babe,” he said, leaning forward and insisting on kissing my freshly-glossed pout. He licked his lips immediately and moaned. “Mmm, peppermint,” he said in a low voice. I chuckled and placed a hand against his cheek, knowing we were sure to celebrate the occasion alone many more times throughout tonight, hopefully after some rest.

“I’m just gonna wear it,” I told him. A grin spread wide across my face as I added, “I’m not gonna be able to keep the news in for long anyway.” Matthew smiled brightly. “Me either, T. Me either,” he told me, kissing my left hand as he had countless times already.

I drew a deep breath and smoothed my fingers over the fabric of my white sundress as the car pulled to a stop in the circular drive in front of the house. It was only when I looked out the window that I noticed all the cars parked alongside the perimeter that I had apparently been too busy to see while primping.

“Matty... what are all of these cars doing here? Who’s here?” I asked softly, frozen, eyes wide. Matthew’s smirk overtook one side of his face.

“Why don’t you go see, babe?” he prompted. I opened my mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to do, or say, or even think.

“Okay,” I finally whispered, taking the hand he had offered me as we moved out of our seats, leaving our belongings behind.

Hand in hand, we walked into the breezeway and through the side door of the house. It was... empty?

I looked up at Matthew, about to ask again why there were so many vehicles in the drive, when a familiar voice called out to us from the back porch.

“Out here!” Chantal...

Matthew was now openly beaming at me, ornery chuckles racking his chest as he gently guided my rigid form to the back sliding glass door. One glance outside stole my breath.

All of his family, all of my family, and dozens of our friends and his teammates stood together in the yard, crowded around tables decked in white, with bundles of silver and white balloons tied together with gold tulle scattered across the lawn. Among the balloon bunches were giant helium-filled diamond rings, and a banner reading “Congratulations, Matthew and Taylor!” was draped across the front of the cabana by the pool.

From where I stood just inside the door, I saw all four of the Tkachuks, my parents, my brother Sean, and my sister Erin huddled together on the deck, the other guests in the yard below starting to cheer as Matthew tenderly pulled me outside. “Come on, babe,” he coaxed with a smile. “There are some people here to see you.”

Tears stung my eyes as I finally stepped outside, clutching Matthew’s hand tightly, fully relying on him to support me and hold me up, both physically and emotionally, just as he always had.

My mom stepped forward from the group first, cupping my face in her hands, tears falling freely onto our cheeks.

“Mommy... you knew!” I said breathlessly. My dad came toward me next, eyes damp, kissing the top of my head. “You all knew!” I exclaimed, loudly enough that many of our other guests several yards away started laughing.

“We knew, sweetheart. Your wonderful fiancé has had all of this planned for quite some time!” my mother explained, pulling away from a tight hug.

“I can’t believe you came all the way from St. Louis!” I told my parents. With a squeeze of my hand, my dad said, “Of course we did. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I threw my arms around them once more, then turned to Keith and Chantal, the sight of them causing me to cry harder.

“Oh, honey! Don’t cry! We’re so happy for you guys,” Keith told me, pulling me close for a hug and kiss on the cheek, his chest vibrating with laughter, as Chantal put her arms around both of us. “So happy, Taylor,” she said, her voice tight as tears escaped her.

Matthew came toward us, having already been greeted warmly by his parents and siblings, and rubbed my back soothingly, his siblings in tow. “I would say welcome to the family, but you’ve already been part of the family for years now, so congratulations, T!” Brady mused, ducking past his brother to wrap me in a suffocating hug, lifting me slightly off the ground.

“Don’t break my sister!” Taryn warned, swiping under her damp eyes. The three of us laughed together, Brady slinging an arm around my shoulder while Taryn enveloped me warmly, sobs shuddering our shoulders. “You’re marrying my stupid brother! What the hell,” she laughed. I pulled back and looked at her with a giddy chuckle. “What the hell!” I echoed emphatically.

Matthew laughed along as he pulled away from hugging both my siblings, who then stepped forward to greet me, Erin squealing as the three of us jumped up and down a few times, arms circling one another. Matthew put his arms around my waist after Erin and Sean each hugged me and kissed my face, rushed words of congratulations and disbelief flying from their lips, as if they’d been holding them in for ages. I leaned back against Matthew’s chest for a moment before turning in his grasp.

“They all knew,” I said in awe. “Everybody knew!” Matthew nodded, carefully swiping his thumb under my eyes so as not to completely wreck my makeup. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to tell them yourself, but I just wanted everyone to be here with us to celebrate,” he said.

“Matty, don’t you dare apologize! The last twelve hours have made me so goddamn happy — I can’t even explain it,” I told him, gripping his white button-down at his waistline as I kissed him firmly, his insistence about the two of us wearing similar outfits for the flight home finally making sense.

“Me too, Taylor. Honestly. I just wanna spend the rest of my days making you as happy as I possibly can,” he told me, his blue eyes sparkling from a few happy tears.

I could not believe that my strong, stubborn, sassy fiancé was crying again for the second time in less than one full day. I kissed the tip of his nose and tucked some of his hair behind his ear.

“You are just full of surprises, Matthew Tkachuk,” I told him, slinging my arms around his neck.

He angled his face closer, stopping just short of pressing his lips on mine.

“You sure you’re ready for a lifetime of me, future Mrs. Tkachuk?” he asked. My heart soared. He guided my hips to sway back and forth gently, the sort of natural, comfortable, everyday dance I was fully prepared to enjoy for the rest of time.

“Hell yeah,” I mumbled against his lips, joyful tears springing to my eyes once more, as our mouths finally met.